3:00 P.M. Well, now 3:04 P.M. Got distracted. Nothing's bleeding right now. Not that there was anything bleeding before, just glad to see nothing started to. I dunno. Something told me things were going to start bleeding sometime soon, and I guess whatever it was was wrong. Call it intuition if you like, but I just don't like how it makes me feel. It's this sensation that takes your attention and rams itself onto it until you can no longer ignore it. It's odd, not really as weird as I'm making it out to be, like a spike you get when you strain your shoulder. I just couldn't explain why I was feeling that way.
Had rice for lunch. Rice and nothing else. Could explain why I feel so empty right now. I slept for 14 hours last night, woke up around 7:15 A.M. Zonked out around 5:30 P.M. since I was so damn tired. Missed dinner again. Made up for it at breakfast with two eggs and 4 strips of bacon, bowl of cereal and an english muffin with PB&J&H. 3:11 P.M. Well, 3:12 P.M. Time keeps on moving and I can barely keep up with it.
Had a short period when I thought I was going to lose my mind yesterday. That is, from the lack of sleep. Things just kept blurring the line between fantasy and reality. You know how it is, you're so tired you start to see things in the haze. You think you see a girl you knew from high school, and you call out to her, when you realize there's nobody but you in the room, and you rest your head for a moment. Then the moment becomes 5 minutes, then 10, then an hour, and before you know it you have let it become late afternoon and you have yet to do anything you were supposed to to today. Speaking of, I probably should have mowed her lawn earlier. Not saying who, trying to keep anyone who's not directly involved's name off of here.
3:20 P.M. I keep becoming distracted when I should be focused. Not on this, mind you. This is a distraction in itself. Not that I don't like talking to you all. No, I just realize that there are things I need to be doing and I just... really don't want to do them. That's a crappy reason to not do them, but damnit I want to avoid having to do anything that could result in me becoming tired at the moment. So I do this.
Been thinking of my Aunt way too much recently. Talking about her way too much too. She was murdered a few years ago. My parents were supposed to be staying with her
6:32 P.M. I don't know what's happened since I stopped writing up there and now, but my bed has been made and I don't remember doing it. Also have a sharp pain in the back of my neck. I'll post this for now but I'm not sure just what is going on. I'll try to make another post later to let you know what's going on. Be safe.
10:46 P.M. Uh... I'll... explain. Later. Much later. Yes.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Not Easy Being You
So there's this thing, it's called real life. It can really suck when you're being hunted like a gazelle by a psychopathic tiger with the ability to teleport and people are watching you while you try to make a blog post. Take right now, for instance. There's loads and loads of free chairs in the area I'm at, and this girl sits right next to me. I mean right in front of where I left my empty coffee cup and all. Not complaining, she has the right to sit wherever the hell she wants, but come on; what are the damn odds?
Here I am, sitting alone and watching some funny videos before class, and suddenly: BAM. Ah well. Hope things keep the nominal level of sanity they've been at for the past few days. Oh, time check. It's currently 7:43 A.M., EST. I'm trying to keep track of the time due to the fact that, apparently, our friend has the ability to give people lost time when he touches them. Also seems to move them during the interim. Kind of reminds me of an alien abduction in the old movies, you know, where the unsuspecting citizen just gets grabbed out of nowhere, taken up to the saucer, probed, then placed somewhere random after a few hours or days.
So what's the point of this post? Good question, PLAYERs. The point is that I am currently unsure as to whether or not I have a class to go to, and the anxiety is building to the point where writing my thoughts down is actually kind of helpful. Calming, even. I feel like whatever weird crap is going on seems to suspend itself while I take my time, gather my thoughts, and spill them out here for you to laugh at. Sure, it's funny, why not laugh? Look at the weirdo talking about some stalker he has and how he can't even decide on a pronoun for the thing. Tons of hearty ha-has for everyone.
I'm sure there are many of you out there wondering what the point of playing the game is. Wondering what the point of being a PLAYER is. Wondering what the devil I'm talking about when I go on about blood. It's complicated. I know, that is such a cop-out answer, and I realize it, though the trouble with that is the damn thing is the proper answer for now. I can't really explain because it isn't time to explain it. It's... it's like trying to explain to people in the 1930's why you traveled back in time and you have all this cool stuff but you can't kill Hitler for some reason. It sucks, but there's a reason. You just need to trust that there will be an explanation in due time.
Q and A keys aren't sticking as much as they were. So that's good. Something for me to be happy about. 7:54 AM. I'm going to try to make these time checks in 10 minute intervals. I thought about doing them in 5 minute intervals, but when you're writing it's hard to keep track of the time. You just get in the zone and don't really pay much attention to anything else while you're doing it. I'm sure many of you bloggers out there know what I'm talking about. It's like an addiction that way, you don't have much to say but you don't want to stop, either. Hell, in a way it forces you to come up with excess crap to talk about just so you don't have to stop. Speaking of excess...
Haven't really seen him (IT) in awhile. And now another person comes to sit right next to me. What is it with this area and people wanting to sit here? This guy at least has a netbook, so he's got an excuse, but whatserface just sat here for I have no idea why. It's kind of annoying, like your privacy is being invaded even though they're not really doing anything. Merely by letting them hear the keystrokes, they are essentially dropping in on a conversation which I would rather they not hear (for obvious reasons). Do they even know how much trouble they could be getting themselves into if they so much as glanced at the screen and read the wrong thing, spurring them to do their own research and dooming themselves to a life of fear and paranoia?
8 A.M., slightly past the dot. The autosave feature keeps lagging my keystrokes due to the number of tabs I keep open. Just closed a few, hopefully that takes care of it.
----------
Phone call. Mom. Always an annoyance to talk with her. It seems like a heartless thing to say, but seriously, after awhile you just cant help but acquire a sense of impatience whenever your Mom calls to check in on whether you've remembered to bring your phone with you... by calling you on your phone. It's not that I don't love her, she's just become utterly annoying to talk to. Her voice has a grating quality to it which makes you want to hang up as fast as you can, and her speech patterns don't help her case. Moving on.
Headache. Good. That'll keep me focused... maybe. Either that or annoy me to the point where I need to lie down for a bit and contemplate the finer points of drug usage. I'm at that period of one's life when you're supposed to be abusing illicit substances, apparently, but I never really took an interest in it. It's not like I'm some goody two shoes, I like a fine cigar and a good bourbon as much as the next guy, I just never really thought losing control of my mind any more than I already have seemed like a good idea. I've seen that happen before when I had too much to drink and acted like a buffoon. Never as good a time as I imagined it would be.
8:10 A.M. Some woman sitting behind me is talking loudly on her cell phone. I know she's talking loudly because I'm wearing noise-muffling headphones and I can hear her clearly. The girl who sat next to me earlier is highlighting things in a textbook and the netbook user is sliding his finger around his trackpad in that "Yeah, I'm cooler than you" fashion we laptop users do. Headache has calmed down a bit. I don't know when I started writing like Rorschach from Watchmen, but at least I'm able to keep my grammar intact.
Thought I saw something. Something (HIM) outside the window. Was probably nothing (ITWASNT). Oh good, little parenthetical insanity writing, I missed you. It happens sometimes, in short bursts, but for the most part I manage to keep whatever part of me that does that from... doing that. It's kind of like an anti-censor, something that's trying to make me see things that aren't there. Remember the typos from the earlier posts? That was me trying to keep these things from showing up. It gets kind of annoying after awhile, so I usually let them do their own thing.
Breakfast was kind of small. Thought I would be able to do a bit better than a McMuffin, hashbrown and coffee, but then I remembered I needed money for lunch. $8 should be able to get me through to 4 PM. Oh, speaking of time, 8:21 A.M. Damn near forgot. Starting to slow down and forget just what I'm doing. Feeling a bit groggy, and now here comes some jackass to take up two fucking chairs for himself. There's an island in the middle here, but he needs an extra chair even though it's completely clear save Netbook's trash. Meh. If it keeps other people from coming over here, take up as many chairs as you can guy.
----------
Where was I... oh yeah, lunch. Lot of good places to eat downtown, though on $8 you must be kidding yourself if you think you're doing anything fancier than Subway or Tin Drum. At least the university has their own free movie theater here. My asylum from the unwashed masses and the bane of my GPA, I've spent many an hour in there, watching, sleeping, experiencing cinematic masterpieces the way they were supposed to be seen. If you've only seen Taxi Driver on a TV, even a widescreen, you haven't seen anything. De Niro is a fucking God on that screen, and I never truly understood until I sat through it all the way; uninterrupted, no commercials, no phone calls from assholes trying to sell you something during it, just pure entertainment.
I've been on a video game binge for the most part lately, mainly because I just can't seem to get into anything else. I can work, sure; if you can't work you're worthless, after all. But in terms of watching TV, or listening to music, even books haven't had that same punch they'd been gaining back. There's just something special about knowing you have an integral role in making your entertainment happen in some way. It reminds me of when I took theater classes, when you would be able to interact with your fellow PLAYERs and
Well. Didn't mean to do that. OK, truth time at 8:32 A.M. I don't know why I'm typing it out PLAYERs. I don't even know what it really means. I also have no iota as to why I started this Blog the way I did. Looking back on it after I posted it, I thought it looked silly. I could barely remember the events of the 23rd. I honestly thought I was dreaming the whole thing when it was happening, and was surprised to see the posts when I checked in the next day. The worst part was when I checked my cell phone and that damn text message was still on there. Received at 10 A.M. on the 23rd. I was planning on making a post on the 24th since I hadn't written anything lately, and surprise, surprise...
Oh, also. blood? I capitalized that when I started writing it. I never changed the color. I just hit "d" and suddenly it changes. No glitchy screen, no real obvious shift, it's just one way one second then blood You see? You see! It did it again! I just blood wasn't even thinking about it and PLAYERs damnit even THAT doesn't work. 8:42 A.M. (DOUBTING) See this shit doesn't fly, me, I don't know why I'm doing this it just keeps blood damnitdamnitdamnit! OK, so that test failed... or passed, depending on what you were expecting. One more try: PLAYERs alright moving on.
Been writing this for an hour now. A whole hour. Good. I'm glad. Maybe this will clear me from having this for the weekend (ITWONT) goddamnit me I am getting sick of your sass. I just wanna go on like before, when I was able to ignore these things. I'm laughing at me. I know it doesn't make sense, but it's like part of me wants to let it (HIM) win. Tough, me, I'm not going to just lie down and take it. I don't really know what's going on, but I think I'm done for now (NO). I'll talk more later (WAIT).
Here I am, sitting alone and watching some funny videos before class, and suddenly: BAM. Ah well. Hope things keep the nominal level of sanity they've been at for the past few days. Oh, time check. It's currently 7:43 A.M., EST. I'm trying to keep track of the time due to the fact that, apparently, our friend has the ability to give people lost time when he touches them. Also seems to move them during the interim. Kind of reminds me of an alien abduction in the old movies, you know, where the unsuspecting citizen just gets grabbed out of nowhere, taken up to the saucer, probed, then placed somewhere random after a few hours or days.
So what's the point of this post? Good question, PLAYERs. The point is that I am currently unsure as to whether or not I have a class to go to, and the anxiety is building to the point where writing my thoughts down is actually kind of helpful. Calming, even. I feel like whatever weird crap is going on seems to suspend itself while I take my time, gather my thoughts, and spill them out here for you to laugh at. Sure, it's funny, why not laugh? Look at the weirdo talking about some stalker he has and how he can't even decide on a pronoun for the thing. Tons of hearty ha-has for everyone.
I'm sure there are many of you out there wondering what the point of playing the game is. Wondering what the point of being a PLAYER is. Wondering what the devil I'm talking about when I go on about blood. It's complicated. I know, that is such a cop-out answer, and I realize it, though the trouble with that is the damn thing is the proper answer for now. I can't really explain because it isn't time to explain it. It's... it's like trying to explain to people in the 1930's why you traveled back in time and you have all this cool stuff but you can't kill Hitler for some reason. It sucks, but there's a reason. You just need to trust that there will be an explanation in due time.
Q and A keys aren't sticking as much as they were. So that's good. Something for me to be happy about. 7:54 AM. I'm going to try to make these time checks in 10 minute intervals. I thought about doing them in 5 minute intervals, but when you're writing it's hard to keep track of the time. You just get in the zone and don't really pay much attention to anything else while you're doing it. I'm sure many of you bloggers out there know what I'm talking about. It's like an addiction that way, you don't have much to say but you don't want to stop, either. Hell, in a way it forces you to come up with excess crap to talk about just so you don't have to stop. Speaking of excess...
Haven't really seen him (IT) in awhile. And now another person comes to sit right next to me. What is it with this area and people wanting to sit here? This guy at least has a netbook, so he's got an excuse, but whatserface just sat here for I have no idea why. It's kind of annoying, like your privacy is being invaded even though they're not really doing anything. Merely by letting them hear the keystrokes, they are essentially dropping in on a conversation which I would rather they not hear (for obvious reasons). Do they even know how much trouble they could be getting themselves into if they so much as glanced at the screen and read the wrong thing, spurring them to do their own research and dooming themselves to a life of fear and paranoia?
8 A.M., slightly past the dot. The autosave feature keeps lagging my keystrokes due to the number of tabs I keep open. Just closed a few, hopefully that takes care of it.
----------
Phone call. Mom. Always an annoyance to talk with her. It seems like a heartless thing to say, but seriously, after awhile you just cant help but acquire a sense of impatience whenever your Mom calls to check in on whether you've remembered to bring your phone with you... by calling you on your phone. It's not that I don't love her, she's just become utterly annoying to talk to. Her voice has a grating quality to it which makes you want to hang up as fast as you can, and her speech patterns don't help her case. Moving on.
Headache. Good. That'll keep me focused... maybe. Either that or annoy me to the point where I need to lie down for a bit and contemplate the finer points of drug usage. I'm at that period of one's life when you're supposed to be abusing illicit substances, apparently, but I never really took an interest in it. It's not like I'm some goody two shoes, I like a fine cigar and a good bourbon as much as the next guy, I just never really thought losing control of my mind any more than I already have seemed like a good idea. I've seen that happen before when I had too much to drink and acted like a buffoon. Never as good a time as I imagined it would be.
8:10 A.M. Some woman sitting behind me is talking loudly on her cell phone. I know she's talking loudly because I'm wearing noise-muffling headphones and I can hear her clearly. The girl who sat next to me earlier is highlighting things in a textbook and the netbook user is sliding his finger around his trackpad in that "Yeah, I'm cooler than you" fashion we laptop users do. Headache has calmed down a bit. I don't know when I started writing like Rorschach from Watchmen, but at least I'm able to keep my grammar intact.
Thought I saw something. Something (HIM) outside the window. Was probably nothing (ITWASNT). Oh good, little parenthetical insanity writing, I missed you. It happens sometimes, in short bursts, but for the most part I manage to keep whatever part of me that does that from... doing that. It's kind of like an anti-censor, something that's trying to make me see things that aren't there. Remember the typos from the earlier posts? That was me trying to keep these things from showing up. It gets kind of annoying after awhile, so I usually let them do their own thing.
Breakfast was kind of small. Thought I would be able to do a bit better than a McMuffin, hashbrown and coffee, but then I remembered I needed money for lunch. $8 should be able to get me through to 4 PM. Oh, speaking of time, 8:21 A.M. Damn near forgot. Starting to slow down and forget just what I'm doing. Feeling a bit groggy, and now here comes some jackass to take up two fucking chairs for himself. There's an island in the middle here, but he needs an extra chair even though it's completely clear save Netbook's trash. Meh. If it keeps other people from coming over here, take up as many chairs as you can guy.
----------
Where was I... oh yeah, lunch. Lot of good places to eat downtown, though on $8 you must be kidding yourself if you think you're doing anything fancier than Subway or Tin Drum. At least the university has their own free movie theater here. My asylum from the unwashed masses and the bane of my GPA, I've spent many an hour in there, watching, sleeping, experiencing cinematic masterpieces the way they were supposed to be seen. If you've only seen Taxi Driver on a TV, even a widescreen, you haven't seen anything. De Niro is a fucking God on that screen, and I never truly understood until I sat through it all the way; uninterrupted, no commercials, no phone calls from assholes trying to sell you something during it, just pure entertainment.
I've been on a video game binge for the most part lately, mainly because I just can't seem to get into anything else. I can work, sure; if you can't work you're worthless, after all. But in terms of watching TV, or listening to music, even books haven't had that same punch they'd been gaining back. There's just something special about knowing you have an integral role in making your entertainment happen in some way. It reminds me of when I took theater classes, when you would be able to interact with your fellow PLAYERs and
Well. Didn't mean to do that. OK, truth time at 8:32 A.M. I don't know why I'm typing it out PLAYERs. I don't even know what it really means. I also have no iota as to why I started this Blog the way I did. Looking back on it after I posted it, I thought it looked silly. I could barely remember the events of the 23rd. I honestly thought I was dreaming the whole thing when it was happening, and was surprised to see the posts when I checked in the next day. The worst part was when I checked my cell phone and that damn text message was still on there. Received at 10 A.M. on the 23rd. I was planning on making a post on the 24th since I hadn't written anything lately, and surprise, surprise...
Oh, also. blood? I capitalized that when I started writing it. I never changed the color. I just hit "d" and suddenly it changes. No glitchy screen, no real obvious shift, it's just one way one second then blood You see? You see! It did it again! I just blood wasn't even thinking about it and PLAYERs damnit even THAT doesn't work. 8:42 A.M. (DOUBTING) See this shit doesn't fly, me, I don't know why I'm doing this it just keeps blood damnitdamnitdamnit! OK, so that test failed... or passed, depending on what you were expecting. One more try: PLAYERs alright moving on.
Been writing this for an hour now. A whole hour. Good. I'm glad. Maybe this will clear me from having this for the weekend (ITWONT) goddamnit me I am getting sick of your sass. I just wanna go on like before, when I was able to ignore these things. I'm laughing at me. I know it doesn't make sense, but it's like part of me wants to let it (HIM) win. Tough, me, I'm not going to just lie down and take it. I don't really know what's going on, but I think I'm done for now (NO). I'll talk more later (WAIT).
Friday, August 26, 2011
Awkward
You know that feeling you get when you know you're supposed to be doing something, but you just can't be bothered to do it? When you know there's something really important which needs to be done, but for some reason you just don't have it in you to move yourself to care? I've been having a lot of days like that lately. I tried to care about the fact that I needed to register for a class which is keeping me from my degree. I failed. I tried to care about the fact that I was going to have a hell of a time registering later after putting it off for so long. I failed. So, here I am, 19 minutes to go before I'm potentially cut off for this semester.
Can I truly be blamed for my carelessness? When you've got bigger things to think about, for example, a stalker who doesn't know the meaning of the words "restraining order", let alone "you can't grow tentacles", things like going for a B.S. degree don't really seem important anymore. It really forces you to take stock of the truly significant things in your life. Right now I'm wishing I spent less time in the classroom and more time on the gun range.
Not that it would matter, anyway. We all know what happens when you try to fight back. We've all heard the horror stories. And those few who actually pulled anything off... how many people have heard of the same trick working twice? I haven't. Then again, maybe I haven't been performing the proper amount of research into what has and has not worked. There is a possibility someone has pulled a bag over it's face more than once(WHATFACE).
I'm doing a lot better than I was before. Whatever happened before was most likely brought on by a severe lack of sleep. One of my more prominent problems is insomnia, you see. Well, the more likely culprit is definitely a severe boredom of waiting for sleep to arrive, leading me to go off onto the internet and wile away the hours until suddenly it's 4, 5, or 7 AM and there is no more time for sleep. Had one of those nights last night. I'm just glad I didn't have anything more to do than register for a class I have had severe troubles with passing in the past, or I would be more despondent over the fact that there's less than 7 minutes left, 6 now, before the cutoff.
Don't really feel that terrible about it, there's always the possibility I could claim there was no way I could make it in due to the course being full and having a hold on my account. It's not like Criminal Justice is a really demanding degree, and besides, I'm almost finished with it anyway. I can always try again next semester... though I'm becoming tired of saying that. By the time I graduate the Mayans will have been proven right or wrong, and I'll have a 50/50 chance of not needing to worry about passing anything anyway.
2 minutes left. Gonna try calling someone again.
5 PM. Call went to voice mail. Again. Welp, here's hoping I can convince someone to look at the screenshot I took while they were leaving me to their answering machines as an exception. I was certain I would be able to register, but then again what do I know about how things are done down there. 5:05. Great. This is an excellent start to the semester which I might not be able to participate in. Can always get a job, I guess. Nothing holding me back from that. Never really hated work, just seemed to always get bored wherever I was. That's one thing I don't envy my Dad for. The man can perform the same repetitious motion over and over and not get bored. Pass.
So. Here I am. Writing for no other reason than how I know when I stop I'm going to lose it and crazily shout bloody murder at the first person who calls me back. 5:08. Did I always write this slow? No, it's not that I'm writing slowly, it's that I can't think of what the hell I'm supposed to say. My mind was always faster than my fingers, and now my hands just want something to do so they won't go on a rampage on the first breakable thing they find. Suddenly it doesn't know what to write. Even that last sentence took some doing to come up with. I couldn't even think that I didn't know, it's so empty right now. Damn I need a drink.
5:11. I want to stand up and walk around a bit, yet I can't move from this spot. 5:15. Trying my damnedest to not think about how screwed things could get if I can't talk my way out of this. I keep making typos because my hands are shaking so damn much. Dmn damndamndamndamn. why do I keep saying that? I guess I'm trying to avoid sying anything much harsher. Trying to keep a PG rating, mybe. considering the material I'm discussing, I have no idea why I bother. It's a giant farce anyway.
Getting bored, keep switching between tabs, nothing really interesting in any of them. Including this one. Meh.
5:28. Nothing much else to say, Might as well stop.
Can I truly be blamed for my carelessness? When you've got bigger things to think about, for example, a stalker who doesn't know the meaning of the words "restraining order", let alone "you can't grow tentacles", things like going for a B.S. degree don't really seem important anymore. It really forces you to take stock of the truly significant things in your life. Right now I'm wishing I spent less time in the classroom and more time on the gun range.
Not that it would matter, anyway. We all know what happens when you try to fight back. We've all heard the horror stories. And those few who actually pulled anything off... how many people have heard of the same trick working twice? I haven't. Then again, maybe I haven't been performing the proper amount of research into what has and has not worked. There is a possibility someone has pulled a bag over it's face more than once(WHATFACE).
I'm doing a lot better than I was before. Whatever happened before was most likely brought on by a severe lack of sleep. One of my more prominent problems is insomnia, you see. Well, the more likely culprit is definitely a severe boredom of waiting for sleep to arrive, leading me to go off onto the internet and wile away the hours until suddenly it's 4, 5, or 7 AM and there is no more time for sleep. Had one of those nights last night. I'm just glad I didn't have anything more to do than register for a class I have had severe troubles with passing in the past, or I would be more despondent over the fact that there's less than 7 minutes left, 6 now, before the cutoff.
Don't really feel that terrible about it, there's always the possibility I could claim there was no way I could make it in due to the course being full and having a hold on my account. It's not like Criminal Justice is a really demanding degree, and besides, I'm almost finished with it anyway. I can always try again next semester... though I'm becoming tired of saying that. By the time I graduate the Mayans will have been proven right or wrong, and I'll have a 50/50 chance of not needing to worry about passing anything anyway.
2 minutes left. Gonna try calling someone again.
5 PM. Call went to voice mail. Again. Welp, here's hoping I can convince someone to look at the screenshot I took while they were leaving me to their answering machines as an exception. I was certain I would be able to register, but then again what do I know about how things are done down there. 5:05. Great. This is an excellent start to the semester which I might not be able to participate in. Can always get a job, I guess. Nothing holding me back from that. Never really hated work, just seemed to always get bored wherever I was. That's one thing I don't envy my Dad for. The man can perform the same repetitious motion over and over and not get bored. Pass.
So. Here I am. Writing for no other reason than how I know when I stop I'm going to lose it and crazily shout bloody murder at the first person who calls me back. 5:08. Did I always write this slow? No, it's not that I'm writing slowly, it's that I can't think of what the hell I'm supposed to say. My mind was always faster than my fingers, and now my hands just want something to do so they won't go on a rampage on the first breakable thing they find. Suddenly it doesn't know what to write. Even that last sentence took some doing to come up with. I couldn't even think that I didn't know, it's so empty right now. Damn I need a drink.
5:11. I want to stand up and walk around a bit, yet I can't move from this spot. 5:15. Trying my damnedest to not think about how screwed things could get if I can't talk my way out of this. I keep making typos because my hands are shaking so damn much. Dmn damndamndamndamn. why do I keep saying that? I guess I'm trying to avoid sying anything much harsher. Trying to keep a PG rating, mybe. considering the material I'm discussing, I have no idea why I bother. It's a giant farce anyway.
Getting bored, keep switching between tabs, nothing really interesting in any of them. Including this one. Meh.
5:28. Nothing much else to say, Might as well stop.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Writing
1:25 PM - I feel the urge to write something. Anything. Except His (ITS) name, well the name we gave it (HIM (IT) ). Tht's out of bounds right now. I'm compelled. This is some weird stuff going on, like a few minutes ago I saw her I know I saw her (Was it her? (NO) ). She was stnding over by the corner of the library, looking out of the window. I KNOW (?) I saw her. It was definently her. Definitely.
Waking dreams. Damnit, I know this isn't real, but I'd rather believe the lie than the awful, goddamn truth. She deserved bettter than what she got, what 'd she get? She got Me. Worthless, bumbling,idiotic stupid me. stuipd, stupis, stupidstupidSTUPID
Loss os sleep is getting to me. I need to speel. sleep. dmit. I can't manage the backspace button anymore. I'm just hoping I hit the right keys at the right times at this poing. Tired. Eyes are drooping. Thank whatever I believe in I turned off Stickykes awhile ago or my iron pinky on the SHITF key would;ve triggered that thing a long while back. I feel terrible.
I feel fine. I don't know what;s wrong with me; I should just calm down and take a few deep breaths. Yeah, that's it, deep breaths...
*INHLE* *EXHLE*
Great. The a key is sticking again. I didn't want to bring it up, but the q and a keys have been randonly deciding when they want to work. Last post I almost went off on a rant about them, well guess what a and q I'M LOOKING AT YOU NOW!
1:35 PM - Need to calm down. Need to relax. I am typing very slowly now, but t least I'm calm. This is actually pretty relaxing. Heh, a key stuck again, but do i care? Nope. Missed the shift key on that I. Stressed? Over an i? There, I did it again. I just need to slow down and ... nd breathe...
*INHALE* *EXHALE*
Well, tht worked a lot better than last time. Feel kinda calm. Not like before, that was me forcing myself to calm down. This feels... nice. Tranquil. Peaceful.
And now I'm thinking of Him (IT (HIM) ) again.
Dmnit me, why do you have to do that? I'm getting tired of worrying about this stuff. Things don't have to be this hard. I honestly believe that. I never really remembered my dreams until recently, and I usually only remembered the good ones. These hve been crappy as hell. qqaaqqqqqqqqaaaaaaaa OK, you see that? I swer, they're messing withmIT DID IT AGAIN! RIGHT THERE! DAMNIT!
......
*INHALE* .......... *EXHLE*
......
*INHALE* .......... *EXHALE*
......
OK. Good. Sorry about all this, but I just got this laptop and for it to be bugging out like this already... I mean yeah, I might mash on the q nd WASD keys for TF2, but that's just normal gamer wear. It shouldn't be sticking like that after a measly 6 months.
Well. The good news is the adrenaline woke me up. The bad news is the breathing exercises calmed me down a bit too much. Gonna get a coffee or something. Later.
Waking dreams. Damnit, I know this isn't real, but I'd rather believe the lie than the awful, goddamn truth. She deserved bettter than what she got, what 'd she get? She got Me. Worthless, bumbling,
Loss os sleep is getting to me. I need to speel. sleep. dmit. I can't manage the backspace button anymore. I'm just hoping I hit the right keys at the right times at this poing. Tired. Eyes are drooping. Thank whatever I believe in I turned off Stickykes awhile ago or my iron pinky on the SHITF key would;ve triggered that thing a long while back. I feel terrible.
I feel fine. I don't know what;s wrong with me; I should just calm down and take a few deep breaths. Yeah, that's it, deep breaths...
*INHLE* *EXHLE*
Great. The a key is sticking again. I didn't want to bring it up, but the q and a keys have been randonly deciding when they want to work. Last post I almost went off on a rant about them, well guess what a and q I'M LOOKING AT YOU NOW!
1:35 PM - Need to calm down. Need to relax. I am typing very slowly now, but t least I'm calm. This is actually pretty relaxing. Heh, a key stuck again, but do i care? Nope. Missed the shift key on that I. Stressed? Over an i? There, I did it again. I just need to slow down and ... nd breathe...
*INHALE* *EXHALE*
Well, tht worked a lot better than last time. Feel kinda calm. Not like before, that was me forcing myself to calm down. This feels... nice. Tranquil. Peaceful.
And now I'm thinking of Him (IT (HIM) ) again.
Dmnit me, why do you have to do that? I'm getting tired of worrying about this stuff. Things don't have to be this hard. I honestly believe that. I never really remembered my dreams until recently, and I usually only remembered the good ones. These hve been crappy as hell. qqaaqqqqqqqqaaaaaaaa OK, you see that? I swer, they're messing withmIT DID IT AGAIN! RIGHT THERE! DAMNIT!
......
*INHALE* .......... *EXHLE*
......
*INHALE* .......... *EXHALE*
......
OK. Good. Sorry about all this, but I just got this laptop and for it to be bugging out like this already... I mean yeah, I might mash on the q nd WASD keys for TF2, but that's just normal gamer wear. It shouldn't be sticking like that after a measly 6 months.
Well. The good news is the adrenaline woke me up. The bad news is the breathing exercises calmed me down a bit too much. Gonna get a coffee or something. Later.
Not Finished Yet Either; Lesson One
Apparently that part I wrote about not wanting to stop writing was so spot on I immediately wanted to start writing this post right after sending out the previous one. So, you want to know how you can become a PLAYER. I'm assuming you are wondering just how you can jump into this fast-paced life of terror and insanity with the rest of us, otherwise why would you be here (if you're here to laugh at me you might as well hit the follow button, it's only going to get worse from here).
In order to become a PLAYER, you need to have that special something that sets you apart from everyone else who is set upon by a towering no-faced man (DON'T LOOK). Something which lets you live to see tomorrow. I know it sounds cliche, but this kind of life isn't for everyone. There are people who tried to escape it, and failed miserably. I don't really have any truly special skills; I don't think having ADHD is a superpower, but in this particular case it might be keeping me sane. Or not. Based on what I know about my disability, I tend to not remember things I consider boring while I latch onto things I find truly interesting. Not things other people try to force me to like; I have to personally enjoy it a lot for it to get to the level where it's an addiction. At least that's what the nurse says.
In my mind, it's less a weapon and more a defense. See, if the guy (WHO ISN'T THERE) is only made stronger by thinking about him, I've got him beat... well, kinda. I mean, I still think of him (it (WHATEVER) ) on occasion, since it kind of hurts not to think of him after awhile. That's when it becomes really hard to sleep. I had one of those nights last night, as I previously mentioned. The 15th, when I started this blog, that was one of the larger spikes. One of the reasons I kept writing was when I did, the pain went away. I only just remembered how badly my head was pounding when I sat down to start writing. I'm feeling a lot better now. I wonder what might happen if I stopped writing altogether...
Owdamnownocrapubiyvfdjyhdsmvssssssssssssssssssssssd
OK, I'm leaving that in there. I don't remember hitting the keys exactly for them to make out "Ow damn ow no crap" and then spew gibberish, as much as I screamed "Ow damn ow no crap" while my head felt like someone blew a dog whistle tuned to a freuency the human ear could hear. People are looking at my funny in the library. I'm gonna cut this here and post then move somewhere else. Will write later. Maybe. Yes. I will. Damn.
---
OK, I didn't post this yet because I had to close up and get out of the library. People were staring, and I didn't want to draw too much attention. Moved out to the courtyard to get some fresh air. Nice and calm out here.
Alright, so no quitting I guess. Looks like I'm sticking with this for the long haul. Great. Lovely. I wanted to do some writing awhile ago, and now I have a real purpose to do so. I'm leaving the top part unedited since I believe it should be preserved as it happened. It could be important.
11:20 AM. I wish I could type faster. Not out of fear, just because I type slow in general. I can never get what I'm thinking down fast enough when I use a pen or pencil, and typing seems to be a bit faster, but for some reason my fingers can never seem to keep up. I come up with something I want to write or say or do, and one second later, poof, it's gone.
Back on topic. Lesson one: Do you have that special something? It's not a skill. It's not a talent. It's will. Will is that defense which allows you to look into that nothingness, stare back at those whipping tendrils (ohgodicanseethem), and say no. You are not going to do this to me. I am not going to let you take my fears and use them against me. No. I am in control (onetwothree) and I will overcome this obstacle (onetwothree) and you are NOT going to hurt her AGAIN!
...Shouldn't have said taht. Nope. But I'm not going to censor myself, either. In the interest of preserving information which may beocme important someday, I will leave that unedited. It seems like he (they (IT?) ) wants it there. Maybe that is my special something. That I am unafraid of showing my true self now. In the past, I would have flipped my lid over those two typos, but here I am, J. Conners, not giving a damn about some squiggles. Mistakes happen. Sometimes you can't corect them. Sometimes...
sometimes you have to live with the choices you make.
In order to become a PLAYER, you need to have that special something that sets you apart from everyone else who is set upon by a towering no-faced man (DON'T LOOK). Something which lets you live to see tomorrow. I know it sounds cliche, but this kind of life isn't for everyone. There are people who tried to escape it, and failed miserably. I don't really have any truly special skills; I don't think having ADHD is a superpower, but in this particular case it might be keeping me sane. Or not. Based on what I know about my disability, I tend to not remember things I consider boring while I latch onto things I find truly interesting. Not things other people try to force me to like; I have to personally enjoy it a lot for it to get to the level where it's an addiction. At least that's what the nurse says.
In my mind, it's less a weapon and more a defense. See, if the guy (WHO ISN'T THERE) is only made stronger by thinking about him, I've got him beat... well, kinda. I mean, I still think of him (it (WHATEVER) ) on occasion, since it kind of hurts not to think of him after awhile. That's when it becomes really hard to sleep. I had one of those nights last night, as I previously mentioned. The 15th, when I started this blog, that was one of the larger spikes. One of the reasons I kept writing was when I did, the pain went away. I only just remembered how badly my head was pounding when I sat down to start writing. I'm feeling a lot better now. I wonder what might happen if I stopped writing altogether...
Owdamnownocrapubiyvfdjyhdsmvssssssssssssssssssssssd
OK, I'm leaving that in there. I don't remember hitting the keys exactly for them to make out "Ow damn ow no crap" and then spew gibberish, as much as I screamed "Ow damn ow no crap" while my head felt like someone blew a dog whistle tuned to a freuency the human ear could hear. People are looking at my funny in the library. I'm gonna cut this here and post then move somewhere else. Will write later. Maybe. Yes. I will. Damn.
---
OK, I didn't post this yet because I had to close up and get out of the library. People were staring, and I didn't want to draw too much attention. Moved out to the courtyard to get some fresh air. Nice and calm out here.
Alright, so no quitting I guess. Looks like I'm sticking with this for the long haul. Great. Lovely. I wanted to do some writing awhile ago, and now I have a real purpose to do so. I'm leaving the top part unedited since I believe it should be preserved as it happened. It could be important.
11:20 AM. I wish I could type faster. Not out of fear, just because I type slow in general. I can never get what I'm thinking down fast enough when I use a pen or pencil, and typing seems to be a bit faster, but for some reason my fingers can never seem to keep up. I come up with something I want to write or say or do, and one second later, poof, it's gone.
Back on topic. Lesson one: Do you have that special something? It's not a skill. It's not a talent. It's will. Will is that defense which allows you to look into that nothingness, stare back at those whipping tendrils (ohgodicanseethem), and say no. You are not going to do this to me. I am not going to let you take my fears and use them against me. No. I am in control (onetwothree) and I will overcome this obstacle (onetwothree) and you are NOT going to hurt her AGAIN!
...Shouldn't have said taht. Nope. But I'm not going to censor myself, either. In the interest of preserving information which may beocme important someday, I will leave that unedited. It seems like he (they (IT?) ) wants it there. Maybe that is my special something. That I am unafraid of showing my true self now. In the past, I would have flipped my lid over those two typos, but here I am, J. Conners, not giving a damn about some squiggles. Mistakes happen. Sometimes you can't corect them. Sometimes...
sometimes you have to live with the choices you make.
Not Dead Yet
Do I feel like I should be? Yes. That, however, is primarily due to the fact that I have neglected to sleep the previous night. 10:15 AM on no sleep and a single cup of coffee can feel like the end of a long workday, and I'm a student just returning to university. Joy. There is nothing quite like the feeling of utter listlessness from having not slept for a long time, with the exception of having an exceptionally bad hangover. Luckily, I have never encountered that particular problem, and I look forward to avoiding it in the future.
Damn my mind. I made a typo in the previous sentence, spotted it, removed it and thought about leaving it in as an example of how tired I am. After deliberating on it for awhile, I decided I preferred having no little red squiggle over making a point through idle spelling errors. That's how I am, though. Always wanting to make sure I come through clearly. It's something I feel I need to do, to appear more human in these... posts. Emotion, passion, inflection... these things are lost in the aether when you just post words on the internet. Anyone who thinks a smiley face can explain what they're feeling is a fool.
No offense to those of you out there who think that. It's just hard to discern exactly what "I SEE YOU :D" means when it pops up on your cell phone with "hidden" on the display. Your hands start to sweat, wondering if someone's playing a prank on you, wondering if there's a psycho out there waiting to do something... awful... to you. Especially when you're running low on sleep. I couldn't have done it if I had tried. I know that for a fact. Every time I closed my eyes, he was there.
I tried to get my friend to meet with me since we hadn't seen each other since April. We were supposed to have met up in February, but he had some things to do with his family. Now he's busy at work and I'm finishing school... I'm lucky if I get to see him twice a year. Before, I would see him all the time. At school. At the studio. Now...
I don't know what to write anymore. I feel like I'm done, that I don't have anything else to talk about, but there's something that makes me want to keep going. I feel like it... it's soothing, in a weird way. It feels nice to get my thoughts out in the open like this. Things seem clearer, as though it's more obvious that this is what I should be doing right now. Believe me, I would love nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes for a minute... an hour... eight whole hours...... then i remember that i cant.
Damn my eyes for staying open so long. Groggy. Starting to talk like Rorschach from Watchmen. Not good for mental stability. Must hang this lampshade and consider what is making Joreal talk about himself. Need to make self-referential humor.
I feel sick. There's a guy who keeps staring at me when he thinks I'm not looking. I can feel him looking at me like I've grown an extra set of eyes on my forehead, and they're staring at him. Funny thing is, I kinda feel like I'm looking at him while I write this.
I'm sure you're all wondering what I was talking about with the PLAYERs this and creepy faceless man that and (DO NOT LOOK BEHIND YOU RIGHT NOW) all the blahblahblahyaddayadda, but to be honest I don't really understand much of it myself right now. Like I said before, intro, recap, and then we resume. Well, you all never really took a break. It's more like... new PLAYERs are coming in from the wings, to fill new roles which need lines to be read, blocking to be done, and blood to be spilled.
Don't worry, it probably won't be yours. Probably.
Break a leg, PLAYERs.
-JC
Damn my mind. I made a typo in the previous sentence, spotted it, removed it and thought about leaving it in as an example of how tired I am. After deliberating on it for awhile, I decided I preferred having no little red squiggle over making a point through idle spelling errors. That's how I am, though. Always wanting to make sure I come through clearly. It's something I feel I need to do, to appear more human in these... posts. Emotion, passion, inflection... these things are lost in the aether when you just post words on the internet. Anyone who thinks a smiley face can explain what they're feeling is a fool.
No offense to those of you out there who think that. It's just hard to discern exactly what "I SEE YOU :D" means when it pops up on your cell phone with "hidden" on the display. Your hands start to sweat, wondering if someone's playing a prank on you, wondering if there's a psycho out there waiting to do something... awful... to you. Especially when you're running low on sleep. I couldn't have done it if I had tried. I know that for a fact. Every time I closed my eyes, he was there.
I tried to get my friend to meet with me since we hadn't seen each other since April. We were supposed to have met up in February, but he had some things to do with his family. Now he's busy at work and I'm finishing school... I'm lucky if I get to see him twice a year. Before, I would see him all the time. At school. At the studio. Now...
I don't know what to write anymore. I feel like I'm done, that I don't have anything else to talk about, but there's something that makes me want to keep going. I feel like it... it's soothing, in a weird way. It feels nice to get my thoughts out in the open like this. Things seem clearer, as though it's more obvious that this is what I should be doing right now. Believe me, I would love nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes for a minute... an hour... eight whole hours...... then i remember that i cant.
Damn my eyes for staying open so long. Groggy. Starting to talk like Rorschach from Watchmen. Not good for mental stability. Must hang this lampshade and consider what is making Joreal talk about himself. Need to make self-referential humor.
I feel sick. There's a guy who keeps staring at me when he thinks I'm not looking. I can feel him looking at me like I've grown an extra set of eyes on my forehead, and they're staring at him. Funny thing is, I kinda feel like I'm looking at him while I write this.
I'm sure you're all wondering what I was talking about with the PLAYERs this and creepy faceless man that and (DO NOT LOOK BEHIND YOU RIGHT NOW) all the blahblahblahyaddayadda, but to be honest I don't really understand much of it myself right now. Like I said before, intro, recap, and then we resume. Well, you all never really took a break. It's more like... new PLAYERs are coming in from the wings, to fill new roles which need lines to be read, blocking to be done, and blood to be spilled.
Don't worry, it probably won't be yours. Probably.
Break a leg, PLAYERs.
-JC
Monday, August 15, 2011
A Guy Walks Into A Bar...
...He then says "Ow." and proceeds to rub the lump that has sprouted on his forehead.
I like to start anything off with a nice joke, though the pretense for starting this blog is no laughing matter. No doubt anyone who has seen me comment on any one of a number of different blogs discussing our mutual friend will realize very quickly we are all in the same boat. This does not mean we can't share a laugh every now and then, though. Just look at Maudin, for example.
Me? I'm nobody. Well, right now I'm nobody. At the moment, you could say a new PLAYER is entering the scene, though "new" isn't exactly the correct word. You've seen me poke my head in at several different haunts, as previously mentioned. What has changed is that I am no longer slipping in to speak my piece in other people's homes, as it were. I have come in from the cold to let you all know that we are all in the same big pot and someone is preparing to throw a match onto the kindling.
What has changed is... well, it hasn't happened yet. That's the short of it. The long of it is that all of you are PLAYERs in the game, and if you refuse to play, you will lose by default. The enemies we have faced would have taken you down in one fell swoop if given the chance, thus you have proven yourselves capable PLAYERs. Again, by default. Congratulations on being able to prove you deserve to keep playing.
I'm sure you are all wondering just what is meant by something changing, what a PLAYER is, why there's a tall, faceless man standing right out of your peripheral vision (DO NOT LOOK AT HIM)... we aren't at that part yet. This is merely the introduction. Well... not the introduction of the beginning. You've all lived through that part already. What this is, is more like... coming out of intermission and being given a recap. Only this recap comes with some new information.
Chance is not dead. You all have the chance to run afoul of something horrible, seeing something terrible which you cannot unsee, and possibly doing things you cannot undo. There is power in choice, the ability to determine one's own fate. If you give in to fate, you have already lost. I very nearly gave in and walked away from this, nearly decided to say "No thanks, this isn't for me anymore..."
That was the night I made this blog. That was yesterday. This is today.
Is this today? It's... 4:16 AM, EDT as I sit here and write, growing weary of hearing the constant clack-clack-click-type-typity-type-type. But I know I have to. Need to. Something within me is making me shun my usual haunts of watching funny YouTube videos and playing video games all hours of the night to write this. And thus I do. Because I really don't have much of a choice in the matter. Or do I?
What is choice but that thing that forces you to make a decision? Do you go left, or do you go right? Why not go back? Or up? How about down? These may not be viable options for you, based on where you are, who you are, what you are doing, etc. etc. Do I continue to type or do I close this browser? Do I post this when I finish or do I delete my account? Do I go to sleep or continue to stare at my door, worried that something terrible might break through?
For whatever reason, I am deciding to let you all know. I'm here. I exist. I am a PLAYER now. Hi.
I like to start anything off with a nice joke, though the pretense for starting this blog is no laughing matter. No doubt anyone who has seen me comment on any one of a number of different blogs discussing our mutual friend will realize very quickly we are all in the same boat. This does not mean we can't share a laugh every now and then, though. Just look at Maudin, for example.
Me? I'm nobody. Well, right now I'm nobody. At the moment, you could say a new PLAYER is entering the scene, though "new" isn't exactly the correct word. You've seen me poke my head in at several different haunts, as previously mentioned. What has changed is that I am no longer slipping in to speak my piece in other people's homes, as it were. I have come in from the cold to let you all know that we are all in the same big pot and someone is preparing to throw a match onto the kindling.
What has changed is... well, it hasn't happened yet. That's the short of it. The long of it is that all of you are PLAYERs in the game, and if you refuse to play, you will lose by default. The enemies we have faced would have taken you down in one fell swoop if given the chance, thus you have proven yourselves capable PLAYERs. Again, by default. Congratulations on being able to prove you deserve to keep playing.
I'm sure you are all wondering just what is meant by something changing, what a PLAYER is, why there's a tall, faceless man standing right out of your peripheral vision (DO NOT LOOK AT HIM)... we aren't at that part yet. This is merely the introduction. Well... not the introduction of the beginning. You've all lived through that part already. What this is, is more like... coming out of intermission and being given a recap. Only this recap comes with some new information.
Chance is not dead. You all have the chance to run afoul of something horrible, seeing something terrible which you cannot unsee, and possibly doing things you cannot undo. There is power in choice, the ability to determine one's own fate. If you give in to fate, you have already lost. I very nearly gave in and walked away from this, nearly decided to say "No thanks, this isn't for me anymore..."
That was the night I made this blog. That was yesterday. This is today.
Is this today? It's... 4:16 AM, EDT as I sit here and write, growing weary of hearing the constant clack-clack-click-type-typity-type-type. But I know I have to. Need to. Something within me is making me shun my usual haunts of watching funny YouTube videos and playing video games all hours of the night to write this. And thus I do. Because I really don't have much of a choice in the matter. Or do I?
What is choice but that thing that forces you to make a decision? Do you go left, or do you go right? Why not go back? Or up? How about down? These may not be viable options for you, based on where you are, who you are, what you are doing, etc. etc. Do I continue to type or do I close this browser? Do I post this when I finish or do I delete my account? Do I go to sleep or continue to stare at my door, worried that something terrible might break through?
For whatever reason, I am deciding to let you all know. I'm here. I exist. I am a PLAYER now. Hi.
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