Chapter 7 Section 2

Back by popular demand, but only til Monday night It's the used car acquisition sale! (I hate those fucking commercials)

This right here is the man. He's the President, he's Brandon Stokely, he's Michael Jackson (the black one). This was Wednesday night, at a fundraiser... well, I suppose soiree is the word. He's going to give me the state of Colorado when he controls the country. May God allow good fortune to fall upon him.

There are so many types, you can't know what you want.... ever. There are many many shapes, sizes, and colors, and believe it or not, two different gloves may fit the same hand. I always thought that opposites attracted, until I met the opposite of me. Far from attracted, I was repulsed, and it drove me to the brink of homicide. I call this life "Home." But that's not what this is about. This is about my realization that not only must everything not be different, but they cannot match either. One's life cannot be completely of the same hue. We are left, once again, with the idea of moderation. The golden middle.

Physics tells us that a pendulum that swings 20cm horizontal left will swing almost 20 cm right. It then will go back left agian, but to a lesser extreme. What I do is apply. I learn the formulae yeah, who doesn't? Now I may botch one or two up on a quiz or something, but what I do is apply. This pendulum, applied, leads me to believe that a girl must have the extreme similarities, and the extreme differences. Only there is the middle road found, because 1+1=2. Were not Baucis and Philemon separate people when they met?

Love the bees
the air
the birds
and the breeze

the good
the bad
the sky
and the trees

that which you see
that which you hear
that which you love
and that which you fear.

Tempus fugit.

Why I love the Bowlbys

"ok, what happened was these people from greensburg came to the shelbyville walmart. they were trying to steal a camera or something and the guy at the door noticed that they were stealing it. so a manager followed them out the door and he jumped in the car or truck with the people. the manager called the police. the people drove out in the county and dumped the manager out. so then a policeman saw them and started following them. they drove off in a field and got stuck, so they jumped out and started running. the lady only had one leg so the policeman got her first and put her in the car. he lost track of the guy, so they called the dogs to come find him, but they couldn't. so my dad went up in the helicopter and the pilot saw the guy hiding in tall weeds, so they tackled him and the dog bit him. end of story. he may spend like ten years in jail or something like that."

That is a quote from a Jan 23 8:04 conversation. I would have it indented like I should, but I don't know how to do that shit on this blog.

Oh yeah, and yesterday I IMed Mandy the message "gurls gurls gurls" and she didn't get it.... not that she was supposed to, but you're missing the point. The point is read, dammit, read. Oh yeah, and make like Jove and take.

.5kx^2

Last night was fun. One hard week left before the team starts its taper. This means two and a half weeks before I shave my head, which is what I've finally decided to do. I was going to not (but).

Anyway, the point is what should I do with my hair this year? I have to outdo the previous three. I've had two mullets, the old man, and whatever that crazy shit was last year. I'd do a mullet, but I don't think it's long enough in the back... we'll see though.

Lord of War was fun, check it out.

Hm....

I like laughing, and smiling, and being happy. I like crying, and frowning, and being sad. I like raging, and breaking, and being pissed.

what does this mean?

does it mean I'm human?

I know that if you drink my Gatorade, and I have evidence you did it.... I like to vary the details, but the punch line is you won't like it.

My left ring finger is time and a half the size of my right, fucking Nick and his basketball.

I wanted to go to formal, but now I'd rather get loaded and storm in there with a swim parka on and start throwing fists, elbows, shoulders, and knees..... ahh yes.

I started A Clockwork Orange today, I think it'll cure my lack of aggression.

Punch punch
fist fist
oh what a relief it is
Anthony-selzer

What the hell?

Man, I really smashed my fuckin finger playing basketball today.

Tuesday is the worst day of the week

This is true, that doesn't mean it's bad though.

If anyone finds a collection of Lincoln's poems.... well, there's only one reason one would start a sentence with that format; you know what to do.

Our poor, beautiful Colts. We look upon them now as a middle aged mother looks upon her drug-addicted high school daughter. Manning was the apple of every eye in the state, now, like Napoleon, he's nothing. From hero to zero in one swift move.

Five weeks of swimming left.

Other than that, my thoughts are errant and disconnected.

Everyday, 2006

The date is 15 January 2006. I'm in my normal mood, neither hostile nor happy. Answers lead to questions. This is a terrible cycle that must be stopped.

There is no why. The only answer is there is no answer. Everything is nothing. Love and hate, sex and rape. Red or violet, nothing matters. All we know are perceptions and are subjected to bias.

This leads me to believe that nothing is more real that feeling.

Mental is to physical as four is to one.

KE = .5mv^2

Here, we see that if one were to double the mass, that's Fonzi. If one were to double velocity, we have an increase of 400%.

Mr. Heaton was scientifically correct.

odi et amo, dogi e iamo.

It seems we will never learn. The only things that has power to turn heads are pipes and paper (barrels and bullion.)

I'd shoot you in the fucking throat if not for negative incentive. Thank you Mr. Gaines.

If the wind is in your face, bow your head and charge.

A Cornucopia of Color

I was just sitting here, eating my cheeseburgers, when Calvin walks past. I got three hours of sleep last night, so I wasn't in the mood for the games of the malfunctional. Anyway, I caught sight of Sam, and decided that I liked his hair, and since I had on Blair's sweatshirt, I should get a picture.

I didn't.

I did, however, scrounge up for this post a picture of the real Blaire, depicted here with his best friend and lover, Emily the fuckin' retard.

Blaire just loves that sweatshit. I asked once to borrow it, because I was cold. He replied with a question, and called me Alex. He asked, "Man, how the fuck am I supposed to go to work, pick up my bitch at the supermarket, steal a stereo, go home, clean up the baby shit from all over the walls, shoot somebody, pay my bills, not pay my rent, then go back and get my money for my bills, and.... AND catch Mr. Juntao if I'm fucking cold? You tell me Chuck, I'm just like the fetuses, I wasn't born yesterday, either."

I'm Back

Yes! Be-a-u-tiful day. I'm back to the roots, refined. It was somewhere between swim practice and working out that it hit me.

The other day, Tatlock told Romeo from another other day that he needed to get right out of here. That was good, because I would have kept him around a while, and Romeo is a giant Drama-Bitch. He was still taking his time in leaving, he said he couldn't find his coat, then it was his hat. Anyway, today, I told Devon Awesome about it, and he promptly came over and kicked his ass. Made me laugh too. Now, I'm back. And thank God.

Ahh.... it's time to relax,
I know what that means.
Glass o' wine,
my favorite easy chair
and of course,
Smash.
So here I go,
enjoying myself,
leaning back and
just enjoying the melodies...
after all, music soothes even the savage beast.

Home Alone

Life is an aimless drive
that you take alone
might as well enjoy the ride
take the long way home.

Good 'ole Bloodhound Gang.

Anyway, the meaning of this post is to inform one and all that I've arrived. It's unfortunate, as I was hoping to move in with someone across the street, but here I am. I've been kept awake the last four/five nights with thoughts marble dicta. I did manage nearly ten hours last night, and my Mind is clear again. Even better, I had a short but healthy conversation with a friend about what's been ailing me, and he was happy, as always, to share his insight. I had come to the same conclusion, but it took me nights, and it took him minutes. Nevertheless, he was right in everything he told me, and I feel refreshed. Today, I'm in a more Americana mood, song: Americana.

I believe it was the great Virgil, more than 2000 years ago who lamented what a wild and inconsistent thing is woman. I'm comforted by the fact that the pieces fit, and just like mathematics, it only works out one way... the right way.

It just is.

I've been an Offspring man since I first heard Bad Habit when I was 11-12ish. That's it. As I've grown as a person, the title of "favorite" album has been shifted around. I was angry then, among other things, and my album up to freshmen-sophomore year was Smash. It was about that time that the anger subsided and the now familiar feeling of disappointment consumed me, this brought in the era of Ixnay on the Hombre. That hasn't really changed, and my favorite song continues to be Amazed.

I'm not into image. I'm not into loud speakers or big tits. I'm not really that into lyrics even. In music, I gravitate ad affectum. Passion for the music and the message of the song. That's what language does, it tries to convey an idea. That's the key to my heart. That's why my band hasn't changed and I don't like any of this new shit. I've already found a band that has nailed a wooden board with the title "Offspring" into my heart. So go fuck yourself with your Fallout Boy and your 50-Cent and whoever else is on M-TV and VH-1 and BET.

In this past month, deep change has come about. I thought it was stable, but it's proven to be anything but. Anyway, since the rupture, I've understood the album Ignition. I've always liked the music and the lyrics of these twelve songs, but I never felt them like I do now, like I did Amazed from time naught. It hit me Thursday with physical inertia while I was on the bus, traveling to my swim meet. I was blown back into my seat, and my shoulder still hurts from the impact of this (song Dirty Magic) album. Nothing from Something and Forever and a Day are also both quite expressive. I believe this album defined and released the relationship phenomenon for the band. I listen to it, I feel it, I dig it.

I watched my absolute favorite movie tonight. I'd quite forgotten how much I love and am able to get into Donnie Darko. Movies, books, stories, they're all trying to transmit a story. I love to be taken for a ride, through plot twists, and action, and drama, and romance... I gravitate ad significationem. (I would use the English for feeling and meaning, but I have a different idea of the words, more refined, I think.) We all identify with songs, with books, with movies... These are mine.

In the search for God, I can only find evidence of Order and Balance. Karma. Monotheism is beautiful for control over morals and behavior. Like many other things, our Christianity has become stale and sour in the minds of many. This is not the fault of the God, of the Text, or of the Religion, it is the fault of the people. Do not IM me with flowing rage as a result of this. It's just that I feel We've lost sight of our aims, We're running so fast for the finish that We've forgotten why we're running to begin with. Over time, it just becomes part of us, a habit. Go here, say these things, put this much in the plate, smile at these people, shake these hands. This is not the way God is served. This is the very same reason our country is in the Rome-before-the-fall state it is in. We have lost sight of our beginnings. We elect fools because we couldn't be bothered to learn more about a candidate than the TELEVISION tells us. That is, of course, if we can even be bothered to vote in the first place. Vote or die, mother fucker. We don't give a shit about our forefathers, nor what they believed in for this country and its people. We only are forced to remember names and dates for the quiz on Friday. Fuck that. That is not education. That is no basis for a GPA, I say, college acceptance. Fuck you. There is much work to be done. But, We will walk angrily, blindly forward, with resolute and determined steps. I, however, know that no matter how determined I am to walk to Indianapolis, I cannot do this with legs destroyed. Our savior will be thought. This, above all, has to be accepted. Fuck them.

Again, I implore you not to rage at me, as I think you'll find my eyes are indeed open. This doesn't suggest I don't learn from people who have something to teach, or that I don't participate in conversation.

I have a very strong passion for life. We have all heard the idea of life being a circle. I'm more of the understanding that it is a sphere. This allows me to love fear, hatred, and destruction just as I love love, happiness, and creation. This is the unwavering, divine love I've read about.

Wow, in just under eighteen years St. Stefan has grown to level 27. (You know, like a video game)

Amate aut morite. Pax vobiscum.

Espionage

It wasn't treason. It turned out to be espionage. It's so clear to me now: All I know is I know nothing.

Passages of Pulses Felt

"Towards the end of the evening, however, as the wife's face grew more flushed and animated, the husband's grew steadily more melancholy and stolid, as though they had a given allowance between them, and as the wife's increased, the husband's dwindled."

"...Loving with human love, one may pass from love to hatred; but divine love cannot change. Nothing, not even death, nothing can shatter it. It is the very nature of the soul. And how many people I have hated in my life. And of all people none I have loved and hated more than her."


Midnight. Swim practice at 8. As I feel here, now, I'm strong. A degree of chiaroscuro is always necessary, even good, yet at times I know and love the shade as I should the light. I'm swimming well, yet I wish I had more time to read. The weight of the rose determines the force of the skull. Mother's bones are eternal. I never forget an insult or a kindness.

Romeo

I've met this guy before, I never liked him. He came around again last night, and he was still here when I got up.

He doesn't know if he wants to leave yet though, I'd ask him, but this one is out of my hands. You can't bark at the golden retriever forever.

So strange... dreams I mean, how you feel that the realistic ones will come to pass. Then they do, that's how it is.

It's quiet.

Kickoff 2k6

The quest for happiness is a waste of life. It's a Pyrric victory at best.

Happiness is only love.

The phrase "Fuck You" was never meant to be taken lightly.

Semper Solis

Last Adventure 2005

I had a good time last night. I went to Devin's house and played pool and stuff and watched the ball drop with Chelsea and the gang. Dustin was playing cards. Jordan was making ice cream and Eric was dancing. Kaleb was making me laugh. I am forced to call Devin's a success. This, however, is only the back story.

It was about two a.m. eastern time and I needed to get home, so Blair came and picked me up. He was in the mood to make me laugh and never once did I cease or catch my breath even from the moment I got in his (dad's) car to three seconds before I opened my front door, because I didn't want to wake mamma.

As I opened the front door, I heard a noise, and it was scary. He asked me what was grunting and scratching around upstairs. I knew what it was, the Abomidable Snowman, but I told him instead it was King Kong, I didn't have the heart to scare the Jesus out of him. Just like that guy in Peter Jackson's King Kong. That was a good joke, haha, Abomidable Snowman. Anyway, I told Blair to very quitely but quickly run to the garage, and get a shovel, rope, bucket, can of paint, a Ritz cracker, and a pack of playing cards. (Don't worry about parallel structure) I meanwhile was going to going to get a sense of his movements so we could boobie trap his ass. I peeked up the stairs and OH SHIT!

We came up with a pran. It was a very precise and compricated pran. We had to get past the Snowman in order to get the Ruby Glasses, or we would surely go thirsty.

We had our gear, our pran, and they say that Eric Howard grew balls in Connersville. So we were 3 for 3, and ready to take this bitch out. Ok, you guys remember Home Alone when he throws the paint cans on the rope from the top of the stairs? Not that. We were going to throw the cards to distract him while I ran around behind and slipped the rope around his neck. Blair then would smash his face with the shovel and put the cracker in his mouth, since the Abomidable Snowman consists primarily of Dihydrogen Monoxide, the salt in the cracker would lower the freezing point of the water, and his throat would melt causing unpleasantness, suffocation, death (Palahniuk anyone?). The trick was getting him to melt into the bucket so I wouldn't have to run and get a towel.

He proved to be a very strong monster, and wasn't having any of that dumb shit. We ended up having to retire to the Great Room, because he was roaring really loudly and scaring the shit out of us. We didn't know what to do, and our thirst level was getting dangerously high. Remembering my Friend Up Above, I pulled out my cell phone and made the most important call of my life. I called George Bush, and told him that Saddam had escaped and was in the upstairs hallway of my house. He said he knew this already, that I'm a stupid asshole for thinking he didn't already know (apparently the US has a fantastic INTELLIGENCE system), and that he would call in an artillery strike. I hung up the phone, and Blair asked if the retard really bought it. I replied with a shake of my head, "What a douche."

When that didn't work either, because Bush was drunk at the time so instead of calling in the strike, he bombed Hollywood, killing Ben Affleck. We were really too thirsty at this point, and I had had enough of this, so I decided the best way to circumnavigate the fat fuck was to just meet him head on. I called R-Kelly. He came and sang a song about John Travolta, and pulled out his gun. Blair smashed the side of his face in with the shovel, and I used his pistol to smash a circle through the temple of the beast 9mm in diameter. It felt good.

Five minutes later, with the Snowman neutralized, we were sipping at the Glasses of Hue Ruby, with smiles on our faces and joy in our hearts. The white fur covering the monster's body was completely charred, but his face did say 'scary.' I'm still selling the hide on e-bay.

What an adventure.