I don’t think anybody reads this at all now…


I havn’t posted one of these in forever, I guess I have been too busy with work to do most things I was doing regularly.

I leave a week from today, well, a week from yesterday for my next tour. I can’t believe how fast time went this time. I don’t entirely know how I feel about going. Usually I am excited to just leave and get away from it. But I realize that I’m the king of fucking up friendships and ruining chances for myself, if I am never here, I can never actually repair anything, or hope to live a normal life.

I don’t even feel like myself lately, I feel like an automatic Ernie robot. I do pre-programmed things, I say pre-programmed things, I reply to text messages with pre-programmed replies. I even have a theory where I am actually a robot sent from the future to test advance forms of AI and convince humans that robots from the future do not exist.

I thought about writing a book. Actually, I have thought that a few times lately. And the only reason I could think not to would be that it would be a best seller. So many angst filled teens would take it and find stupid little things to relate to. They would change their myspace names to it, and I would be praised by Goths and emos who think that I wrote the book just for them, that their problem is so original. Their need to find a place to fit, when the reality is that their problem is the same as every other anti-social loser. I would be the Jeffree Star of novelists. I would be praised by the fans, and ridiculed by my peers, By the REAL writers.

If I became a writer, I would be the fastest sellout ever. Thats why I doubt I’ll write a book.

I think about things like this constantly, stupid things like, “Am I the next anti-christ?”

Yes, I’ve actually asked myself that. I have actually pondered if I will be the next person to bring unspeakable pain to this world. I mean, Jesus didn’t find out he was the son of God until he was a teenager. Maybe I just don’t know it yet.

Somehow I feel like if I was the bringer of the apocalypse, at least it would be fun. There would be go karts, Laser tag, and all you can eat shrimp. It would be a part celebrating how we fucked up this earth and how we are all getting whats coming to us.

Even now I feel like I’m trying to type out my blogs as if I am some contrived writer trying to make everyone relate to my generic issue with the world. I feel like I could be the next generations Chuck Palahniuk, I could be my children’s over rated writer. I could make Next Years equivalent to “the perks of being a wallflower”

Fuck, I’d win the pulitzer.

Most of the time, these are the things going through my head. A million thoughts per minute, My CPU fired up and ready to process every single one of them.

I think I am rambling now.
I don’t know.
I Don’t care, You’re here, looking to read something entertaining.
So why don’t I give that to you?

I have found a whole new love for sitting on ebay looking at rare shit, wishing I could buy it.

Like a special metal gear solid watch, or limited edition boxsets of the games. Bidding on them, but knowing I’m not going to get it.

I did win a new shirt though, and a special energy drink that Snake drinks to recover stamina in the game. I’m still unsure as to whether I will try to drink the Japanese Energy drink or not. But I paid 15.00 bucks for it, so I think I would like to just keep it for kicks until its long past expired.

My relationships with people are in a constant spiral. Maybe I will start to value the few people I have left before they are all gone. But I doubt it.

Here is a song I have been really into lately, Complete with Lyrics.

Guess Im Incovenience – Thee Armada

(I def separated the stanzas incorrectly)

I saw you throw him overboard
To feed a fetish for the wolves
Just like they did to you
To follow up your cue

The headline reads on Sunday morning
Be careful what you choose
Guess I’m an unborn slave
Tragically far from grave

I found a way to test a theory
Parents living vicariously
Molding all our minds
Slowly bettering their lives.

Until another goodbye, another warning
The instigators are the two left mourning
A rebel yell that everyone can scream
Out loud

Oh, let your voice be heard
We’re flying free birds
A rebel yell that everyone can scream
Out loud

Oh, let your voice be heard
We’re flying free birds
And who are we to blame for
Certainly not the media
Please give us the answers

Oh, oh dear Mom and Dad.
I’m writing you from prison,
I’m writing from the streets
Where I learned to get away for awhile
To shoot down your selfish dreams

I’m insecure from all of the talks that we’ve had
This one’s for you
Oh so dear, sweet Mom and Dad.
Another goodbye, another warning
The instigators are the two left mourning.
A rebel yell that everyone can scream
Out loud

Oh, let your voice be heard
We’re flying free birds
A rebel yell that everyone can scream
Out loud
Oh, let your voice be heard
We’re flying free birds

I’ve walked these lines
To hold my own grandeur

{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

Anonymous July 3, 2008 at 12:39 am

“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”

compton July 3, 2008 at 1:19 am

your stuff’s definitely entertaining?
and that’s a good song.

Misty Blue July 3, 2008 at 8:30 am

Wow 😐 that was an intense entry.

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