Friday, March 11, 2005
pyrhic victories & last call...
Quite ready to give up on cards at this point as it seems to be an ever widening money hole and something that has been getting less fun of late. Mostly, I think I am getting that time to move on feel again, ready to go someplace else, anyplace near a beach...if (when?) I get rejected from grad school, I may just leave. I bet I could sell my piece of shit car, get a couple of hundred bucks together and leave town...but now, the secret is out, so I guess I can't. Besides, there won't be any warning from me when I actually do leave. It's funny how quickly things change, mostly because I thought maybe, but those were the aforementioned fever dreams, instantly discounted.
The truth of the matter is...well, whatever, the truth is the last ounce of caring has been drained out of me, and I don't fucking care about anything at this point. I got the Celtics, soon I'll have my Sox, and that is more than enough for me. It would have been nice to hit spring training again, but oh well, no ride and no plans, so that is my fault. I'd also like to say I just LOVE IT when people come over, play cards, have fun, and enjoy the time spent, and then leave ALL OF THEIR SHIT for me to clean up. Fucking really nice, people I can't wait to have over again...or maybe I'm just pissed because I want out and I can't have it for another two months.
Seemingly stuck in the grasp of anger and hatred (and I do mean Anger & Hatred.) I am unsure of what to do. Well, fuck it, there is no point to worrying, all answers shall be directed to the man behind the curtain. He rarely lies, and only once have I known him to be wrong. It would be so much easier to just buy into everything that is being sold, but I can't do that, and besides, even if I could, in the end, it's a fool's bargain, and I have enough of those already.
OK, back after a brief head break. Finally managed to hunt down a John Jennings CD (evidently not available anywhere to download surprisingly enough) and while most people probably don't remember him, he was Mary Chapin Carpenter's guitarist and co-writer/producer. That alone wouldn't get me to buy his CD, but the song "Everybody Loves Me" is. Hence, I am now the proud owner of John Jennings debut CD, Buddy. (Wow, this shit really helps. I swear, I was damn near foaming at the mouth a few minutes ago. Now, I'm still smarting, but I again remember there is no reason to be upset, and as for leaving this dead town, well, in good time, I'll be gone. And they say this shit is harmful to your health...hahahahaha)
Well, off wassailing around the house, since I slept all day and I am now jacked from a doubleshot and a totally funky idea. There is a real chance of more posting tonight, though my reason for it would be shitty, I do enjoy writing, and since lately most of my shit seems shit, perhaps this practice writing will do me well. At any rate, I'm getting that feeling again. That feeling that I am walking around, and the sounds flooding my ears is the wailing of the Why? chorus, every last human being cooing, demanding, alternately a command and a question, pleading to the deaf ear of a sky that can't answer. We all scream "What does it mean? Why is it like it is?" The only reply is silence from a blue sky and rain from a grey one. I huddle for a moment with a blonde girl under an awning, and when I turn to ask her the question, she is gone. I am alone amongst the crowd, but we all speak as one.
cf
The truth of the matter is...well, whatever, the truth is the last ounce of caring has been drained out of me, and I don't fucking care about anything at this point. I got the Celtics, soon I'll have my Sox, and that is more than enough for me. It would have been nice to hit spring training again, but oh well, no ride and no plans, so that is my fault. I'd also like to say I just LOVE IT when people come over, play cards, have fun, and enjoy the time spent, and then leave ALL OF THEIR SHIT for me to clean up. Fucking really nice, people I can't wait to have over again...or maybe I'm just pissed because I want out and I can't have it for another two months.
Seemingly stuck in the grasp of anger and hatred (and I do mean Anger & Hatred.) I am unsure of what to do. Well, fuck it, there is no point to worrying, all answers shall be directed to the man behind the curtain. He rarely lies, and only once have I known him to be wrong. It would be so much easier to just buy into everything that is being sold, but I can't do that, and besides, even if I could, in the end, it's a fool's bargain, and I have enough of those already.
OK, back after a brief head break. Finally managed to hunt down a John Jennings CD (evidently not available anywhere to download surprisingly enough) and while most people probably don't remember him, he was Mary Chapin Carpenter's guitarist and co-writer/producer. That alone wouldn't get me to buy his CD, but the song "Everybody Loves Me" is. Hence, I am now the proud owner of John Jennings debut CD, Buddy. (Wow, this shit really helps. I swear, I was damn near foaming at the mouth a few minutes ago. Now, I'm still smarting, but I again remember there is no reason to be upset, and as for leaving this dead town, well, in good time, I'll be gone. And they say this shit is harmful to your health...hahahahaha)
Well, off wassailing around the house, since I slept all day and I am now jacked from a doubleshot and a totally funky idea. There is a real chance of more posting tonight, though my reason for it would be shitty, I do enjoy writing, and since lately most of my shit seems shit, perhaps this practice writing will do me well. At any rate, I'm getting that feeling again. That feeling that I am walking around, and the sounds flooding my ears is the wailing of the Why? chorus, every last human being cooing, demanding, alternately a command and a question, pleading to the deaf ear of a sky that can't answer. We all scream "What does it mean? Why is it like it is?" The only reply is silence from a blue sky and rain from a grey one. I huddle for a moment with a blonde girl under an awning, and when I turn to ask her the question, she is gone. I am alone amongst the crowd, but we all speak as one.
cf
