Camera trails across ground leading up to a body with a pool a blood forming around it.

Camera rolls up to show a man in a chair with his head down holding a hand gun.

Cut to behind the man in the chair, overlooking the dead body.

V.O.: Oh well...

Cut to title. Cue violins.

A A A

COMING SOON?

Koyaanisqatsi

I'm sure I'm not the first. A strange thought came to me as I sat on my couch petting my cat. I sat there looking at my cat and then it struck me, like a bat at my head. My cat is something living. She breathes, hears, sees, smells. It's strange because I always knew my cat was alive, but it was something else. The strangeness of the situation. A living thing owning another living thing. If you read this you'll probably wonder at my thought and think how dumb, but it was something else that really hit me. I imagine that that's what it must feel like to reach enlightenment, even for a split second.

Out of the loop. Never been in it.

Cold like the street, stupid like the city.

Got. Kept.

Or maybe it was a brain tumor.

Heavy

We're strapped to a train cart on a rail. Head encased in metal with only one tiny eye hole with six feet of pipe welded onto it resting on a bipod. We can't touch it or move it. Our perception of time. Our perception of life. And we have no choice but to say, "That's life." - Taken from Slaughter House - Five

What else can we say? There's nothing we can do when our life takes a sharp turn to suck town. Like when your binder crashes to the floor and sprays out all of it's contents across the floor. Twice in the same week. Or when you get a C on Chem test that you could have gotten an A on. Or when you look at life and wonder how people can hang onto something seemingly so hopeless for so long. It doesn't make a difference. It's out of our control. All we can do is look back on the pleasant moments and ignore the bad ones. The universe's destiny is set.

I thought we controlled our future. We can change the course of history and there was no set destination. If we tried hard enough we could change the future. No inevitable future.

I don't know what to think anymore. Then again, I don't think I ever did. The only thing we can do is to keep on moving, to soldier on, even when things do get heavy.

That's life.

HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!

HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!

Solitaire

is the master of games. It brings sadness and loss in morale from the sheer difficulty of the game. Brings joy when you beat that first Solitaire game, which you thought was impossible at first. It lets you customize your deck from a number of preset pictures. You like frogs? No problem, Solitaire's got a frog style deck. You like fish? No problem, Solitaire's got that too. The simplicity in the game drives sane men to the loony bin. Anyone who plays on Draw One is a wuss, everyone knows that Draw Three is where it's at. Try Vegas style scoring for an added challenge.

The British called it Patience. They knew what they were talking about.

HOPE. PROGRESS.

Climbing Ever Closer

to the near two months I haven't updated. In fact I do believe that anyone that would care to read this would be Nick. Yes, you Nick. I know you'll read this once this goes up since you're the one who told me to finally update my blog. So I may as well dedicate this post to you. In fact I might as well just have a conversation with you right now and break that fourth wall. Even though if I really wanted to do that then I could just talk to you in the IM box that's open right next to my Firefox window so that would be pretty pointless. Then again people have conversations through Myspace comments, so how much more absurd would it be to have a conversation through a blog? Not absurd at all if you ask me, there's plenty more things to be worried about in this world anyways. I don't know why I use punctuation, capitalization, or any other grammar marks in this. I mean even if I tried there would be grammar mistakes everywhere anyways so to me it would seem to be pointless. Like this part of the post, it really should be another paragraph. And that comma I used in that last sentence and this sentence, are they even used correctly? Or is that all a part of my writing style? Or it's just me not having a good handle on the English language? Whatever the case I suppose it doesn't make that much of difference in the end. We're all working towards a moot goal. When we leave this place all that will have been left behind are the scars we leave on this planet from all the strip mining, pollution, etc. But that shouldn't be the way of human thinking and to many it isn't. Thinking like that only get you two things:1. Hopelessness that'll drive you to give up on life and pursue nothing higher in your life. 2.Drive for a better future and a will to survive. Number 2 is the choice that the primal side of humans will make, but for many by the time that happens it'll be too late. Hopes of alternative fuels, clean air, a green tomorrow all seem to be always only 5 or 10 years away yet by the time that rolls around it's just another 5 or 10 years away. How long will it be before we actually put these technologies to use? Greed is a tough monster to overcome and many in business suits would rather bow down to. Strange thoughts come to mind when you let you're mind wander and have a writing utensil nearby, be it keyboard or pencil. My own personal future seems ever cloudier every day that goes by. What do I want to do? It seems like every time I come to write here that question always comes up and I find myself answering it in a similar fashion. First I'll talk about it and then I'll go on to ways to possibly fulfill that goal, but this time I don't think so. It just seems like a way to lie to myself with me actually believing in the lie. Always waiting on external forces to push me and my future. It's about time that I find my own drive. See what I did there? Another lie that I seem to have conjured up. Who knows though, maybe this time I'll actually follow what I say. I suppose if the future was clear there would be no point in living, but the mystery haunts me everyday. Scared for my future and my laziness. Too much to do, too little time. It always seems like that doesn't it? To people like me anyways. Those who sit around for 2, 3 hours doing nothing and then think to themselves, "What! Where did all the time go!?" Then we find ourselves panicking and rushing, putting out sub-par work. To depend on that randomness factor to swoop in and save me from myself is nothing, but a fantasy. A fantasy that all of should get away from. Those who made it, made it on their will to do. I seem to lack that. Writing on my blog always gets me down because of the stuff I write on here. But what else should a blog like my own be used for? I suppose this is what the purpose of my blog, to write my own sorrow onto it and leave for others to come by and laugh or be angry at the kinds of problems in my life, when other people have bigger ones. Meh, what can I say that will please passerbyers? Nothing, that's what. As of now I am discontent.