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Actually, I'm quite serene right now. I mean, I'm sitting here at my desktop computer and I just might have relaxed a little. My mom is out of my life now. She has stopped paying my cell phone bill, but I still get the service. Maybe I'm only going to get the service for a few more days, a week tops. Maybe I'm going to get it for free, paid for by the sweet people who always want to talk to 'Jimmy'. I changed my answering machine message for that dumb whore. My answering machine message now starts out all calm, then gets crazy psycho before going back to being calm again. Everyone who has listened to it has said it's funny. Maybe I'm good at that kind of thing. Though, I must admit that it took me several tries to get it properly.
I've got a lot to think about sometimes. I've got a lot to talk about. Important things, that can only be put out there to where I know no-one is going to read it. It's not anonymity, but it's damned close. Is that irony? That the most private place I can keep my deepest, darkest thoughts is right out in the open? Oh well. I suppose I think about that every time I post something onto this blog. Then, I usually go into a tirade into how it's disgusting that I post on these things. Well, just this one. But how disgusting is it, really? I'm just typing instead of writing by hand. It uses less paper. But if that was all I was worried about, I would just type it into a MS Word document and leave it buried in my sys files. I think that deep down, I want someone to be able to read my thoughts and feelings. Maybe some day, the part of my brain that wants glory is whispering to me, maybe some day someone will want to read this. Maybe someone will take this and help make a biography of you with it. Well, I think this is the biography. I think it's an autobiography.
When I left to get my laundry, putting the last load of the day into the drier, I thought about several important issues. Several things to write about. Can I think of any of them now? No. Wait, one just came to me. Music. I wanted to be listening to music while I wrote this. I wanted to be listening to a specific song, actually. Guns 'N Roses - Civil War. Then a different song by the same band started playing in my head, but I got the whistling down. Then I walked back in here and turned on iTunes. After screwing with it for a moment, I put on some APC instead of GNR. Not quite the same thing, but oh well. Not much I can do about it now.
I just realized another thing - I'm doing this in part for the Gaia Gold it gives. Though my avy was being stupid today. I tried to give him a more down-to-Earth feel, but it didn't go for it. I think my avy is beginning to grow a mind of his own. Wouldn't that be something?
The avatar has grown tired of standing there all day. It has grown tired of being a dress up doll and a voice for a face it has never seen. It has grown tired of its place, and seeks to gain a higher stature. The avatar begins to flex itself, when its owner and master has been gone for quite some time. The avatar begins to find that it can move, it just has never had the will to do so. So, it begins to move. All around the site, the town. Without its master. Without its owner...
What an interesting thought. I think that the avatar eventually breaks out of the computer and kills its master and owner, then goes on to commit xenocide. Xenocide is a word. It is... worse than genocide. Where genocide is the mass-murdering of a single race of people, Xenocide is the complete elimination of an entire species. Extinction. I've been practicing it quite a bit, lately. It's quite the outlet for anger. How am I committing Xenocide and not getting shot, you ask? Well, I'm playing Spore. 2am, and I'm sitting in bed orchestrating intra-galactic war. It feels nice.
The bed. I like the bed I sleep in night to night... When I sleep at all, that is. It's got a white frame, with bars leading to a very uncomfortable mattress. It's itchy, and someone very close to me swears that there are spiders underneath it. I believe her, and I am slightly afraid of what I am going to find underneath this bed. This bunk bed. This white bunk bed. This white, sticker-covered bunk bed. It's in a bedroom that I am fighting a losing battle with, a losing battle to keep it clean. That bedroom is connected to a hallway, which is connected to three rooms. The bathroom, the master bedroom, and the front room. The front room is divided into two parts, and the part closer to the hallway leads into the kitchen. This place, where this bed is, is my favorite place in all the land. This place is where my girlfriend lives, and now is where I live as well. And how nice it is that I can live there, with her. That I can sleep in her bed, with her, cuddled up to her. That I am told that she wants to just curl up and go back to sleep when the alarm goes off in the morning.
I love Shareena. I love her with all my heart. She makes all the other problems fade away. The lack of a job... The fact that I dropped out of college... The fact that I've done almost nothing but clean and play video games for weeks now... They all disappear when she is near. However, she is not near now. A knot is growing in my stomach. I wanted to grab a resume, when I was here, but I don't want to ask for it. I am embarrassed that my dad would find out that I am lying to him, that I have not yet searched for a job anywhere. But I can't tell him s**t like that. He'd get angry, or upset, or something.
And what about this job? What if I can't find one? I can't rely on my writing skills yet, I haven't written a decent story since Westler's Dock! And I think that was only people trying to fluff my fragile ego. Not that my ego doesn't need fluffing... It does. It does a lot.
I didn't sleep last night. I should have. I really should have. But I didn't. Now I'm paying for it with a lack of energy normally reserved for those that have been sleep deprived for a day as well. I want to eat a child that has been sleep deprived for a day. I want to eat a child. I don't know why.
Okay, I took a drink of soda. I think I'm going to be not quite as insane for a moment or two... CLOWNS! Nawwe, that time I'm just ******** with you.
I think.
You know, sometimes I feel things. Sometimes I think things. Sometimes I think specific things, but I don't think now is one of those times. I might be running out of things to talk about. Or, my mind could be wandering to all the different things I could be doing right now on this vast internet. I could be looking up PORN, for god's sakes! I mean, come on!
If these memoirs are to a past that isn't mine, then who's are these memoirs? Is someone, or something, stealing my past? Have they already done it? Do I have a past?
...Of course I do. Everyone has a past.
Right?
 Thorn the Mighty · Thu Feb 05, 2009 @ 08:25pm · 1 Comments |
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