I Quit....my worst fears have been confirmed

After all this time, these accumulated years of life, i can reluctantly say I'm a quitter. I quit, yo. I finally stopped filling my lungs with tar. No more nicoteine, although maybe 15-40% of me really wants to smoke one...sort of...who knows...blargh...this is what happens when i quit. The doubting, the rationalizing, the craving. But on the upside to this i have been knitting waaaay more, and i actually cleaned my room the other day and i didn't need to sneak outside to smoke 4 cigs...or something like that. I'd like to see how much i spent on cigs...i saved most of my receipts so if i tried i could compile the stats for a period of time then just do some math. I love math...okay maybe i'll do it, then i can focus on trying to save that much money for retirement, or something....or even better, use that money to visit friends.

Faux Realz...quitting is mind-blowing. It just seems silly that i have to tell myself not to do something. i'm used to doing what i like, for the most part when i like. i don't like rules yo, not even self-imposed ones...but i'll live.

After quitting it dawned on me that everywhere i went i smelled of nasty ass cigs. Eww urghs...blah, they really do smell...and that WAS me. Now lets just hope i don't eat myself to morbidly-obese heights, or better yet, widths.

Last night as i was lying in bed before sleep, i focused on breathing in and out, in and out. It was very relaxing. I need to think about breathing, more often.

Pics below are mostly for me, in my effort to not smoke the death-stick....

i have no clue what's going on in this picture but rest assured it is gross....and unfortunately, because i chose to smoke for about 6 years, my lungs are probs somewhat black too. totally gross. (http://www.watauga.k12.nc.us/staff/felkera/smokers_lungs1.JPG )

I was looking for some other pics and came upon this blog. They say it all and probs even more, oh so well...so peep it yo.

http://whyihatesmoking.blogspot.com/

the end....time to get ready for lunch.....shrimp and veggie stir-fry=i rule.

ftw

Just makin' some convo Yo...

so i log into this dating site thingy that i find rather amusing, you know, just to see what's going on, what's poppin'....just kidding, i lie...i'm only looking for some eye-candy, but whatevs...

i'm on it for like two minutes when i get a message from some dude.....

please enjoy!!

The question is, would i ever suck an 1-1/2" d?

I was going to just close the window, because i don't know him, and this can only lead to one place....

his webcam. But i decided to fuck with him and ask why? was he offering, all the way from FL?

Was he actually trying to find someone to suck his small peen? Could this have possibly been one of those

fairy tale situations where depending on my answer, which depended on my 'goodness' as a person, i would've

been rewarded. Sort of like the tale of the princess kissing the frog. Once the kiss is administered the frog turns

into a prince. Is this dude looking for someone like that? But i guess my chances of finding out were sabotaged by the site's IM'ing system. If i may ask, wtf is "Podmena traffica test 3f"? Because that's all that appeared when i sent a message....But it doesn't matter, it ended a bit shortly, with him calling me a 'bitch.' Well isn't that nice, it's almost like he read my entire profile. Sweet.

i'm going fucking crazy

Upon waking this morning, i made sure to repeat the nights' dream to myself so as to not forget.
Amazingly, i still remember some of it.

In the dream i'm telling myself that i want to go to a bar after work. I even have one in mind
that does exist here in albuquerque. Anywho, i guess it's after work and i'm trying to get to this place, but the weird thing is that the city is a mix of los angeles and abq, with the buildings and the streets. As I'm walking to this bar, the place seems more like l.a. in that there are lots of people sitting outside of other bar places. All of these people were smoking cigs, which bothered me in the dream because i quit in real life. So throughout this dream i am being tempted to smoke a fucking cigarrette. I don't remember if i ever get to that bar, i just remember that i really wanted to go.

The previous night i also dreamt.

In this dream what i remember is that I, along with two other people, was chosen to be a part of this comic/art training, which seemed to be a big deal. Like it was an honor to be chosen or something. So i was super excited because i was going to learn things and possibly get some exposure. I guess we had to share some of our work so the blond sort-of-exotic girl goes first. She reads a poem she wrote. I was very shocked once i heard her stuff, to be in this group. I thought to myself, 'Is this a joke?" You see the poem was really nothing special. The only thing that was of note was her accent. I couldn't place it but it was very different. Anywho, after i heard her stuff i didn't know what to think of the honor of being chosen. We all had little notebooks and stuff and we had one dude who was the teacher dude, i guess. It almost seemed like a reality show. I never got to read my stuff. I did think about showing all the art things i've made though....the end.

maybe i watch too much reality t.v. maybe i want some recognition.....maybe i want to do stand up....who knows? i think this not smoking cigs thing might be getting to me. i'm glad it's thursday and that the week is almost over. i really really really want to get shit-faced....when will i drink again? who knows. anywho....that smoking dream really rattled me. blargh....should i just go smoke? i have some in the car...no rachel...NO. okay, got that out of my system.
))<>((

the 1st day of the last month of the year

the first day of the last month of the year
is here, today...only.
once we get past this day,
all subsequent days will slide rapidly towards
the end...the final collision.
the days will be like a pile of gelatinous goo,
sliding off each other, with no where to go,
until that last day of the year,
when we can drink them all away
with justifications and good intentions
for the following sets of
wasted days.
more gunk for the soul.

+++++++++++

this is the first year that i went out shopping on black friday.
what an appropriate name, by the way. it's a day that we will kill
for savings. but anywho, i went to kmart (to buy my mom a decorative
x-mas tree thingy) then i went to Mecca record and bookstore. They
were having a 30% off everything used. So i ended up getting many
books, a few records, and three cds. although i have practically all
of Pavement on my laptop, i bought the Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain CD.
I don't know how to explain my love for Pavement (especially Stephen
Malkmus). For the most part 99%, their music makes no sense, but i
like it not making sense. It makes emotional sense.
anywho, i was looking up the lyrics to Stop Breathing, because it's
my favorite song on the cd so far...i love love love it. his voice...
ummm...the end. anywho, i came upon a website that i hadn't visited in
many years. the last time i was there i was looking up some belle and
sebastian stuff in college. i feel old, but back to the point. this website
is called http://www.songmeanings.net . After I looked up the song
Stop Breathing, i moved on to Carrot Rope.
i love reading the comments, the possible meanings that these songs could
have, according to the people contributing their 2 cents.
Below is the comment left by some foolio for the Carrot Rope song.
I love his analysis:

"Benny-X 03-12-2003
It's about getting high. Marijuana, you know? Now I know you're thinking I'm just a stoner but bear with me here. Now let's examine the title first. Carrot Rope. Now imagine a joint, if you will. The way the paper is rolled might just make it look somewhat like a rope. And if you've ever looked at a carrot closely, you will see ridges going around the outside of it, much like the ridges of a joint. I also neglected to mention the fact that the actual color of burning marijuana and paper, orange, is indeed the same color as that of a carrot. Secondly, let us look at the lyrics. "Carrot rope, feed my thrill, I got beat by weather." This could very easily be about the writers use of drugs, namely marijuana, to step away from his problems. He is "beat by weather" (not feelin' so hot) and so he relies on marijuana (the carrot rope) to feed his thrill. Some more proof, you say? Well how about when it says "It's my second hand wonder, a thing that recovers the doubt." Again, illustrating the writers reliance on marijuana to make him feel better about life and himself. Just a few lines later in the song, "It's of my design assembled at the cut." Now I could be pushing it a bit here, but you could refer to the amount of marijuana used as the "cut." The writer's high is adjusted depending on the amount he uses. This is a little shakey though. "It's alright to shake, to fight, to feel," followed by "you go down, down, down, down." The first line could mean one of two things if the song is actually about marijuana. One, it could be one opinion the writer has about drugs, that it's alright to use them, "feel" them. Of course, it could be the exact opposite. Saying that it's alright to experience life as it is and drugs are unnecissary. The second line, "you go down, down, down, down," well that's a bit obvious. The last few lines now. There is talk of this "wicket keeper" and how he is seemingly "down" and how "he gets me off of the grounds." I understood the wicket keeper to be a metaphor for the Malkmus' conscience. A conscience to tell you what to do, controling your life through morals and judgement, you know who I'm talking about? Well, he's gone or "down" once you've started on the carrot rope, right? In a sense, it gets you "off of the grounds." Pretty persuasive if I might say so myself. And if you still think I'm just a stoner, I'd like to point out that most of the other people who have commented here are perverts. That's right, talking about masturbation, pedafilia, bondage, public nudity and the such. For shame. To tell you the truth though, I'm not actually that sure. I just thought it made a bit of sense. I have no explination for the "Christian lie" part of the song. Nor do I know what the bomb the writer is going to drop on someone is. But come on now. Carrot rope. Looks like a joint, huh? "

Halfway through that analysis, i wish i was stoned. anywho, that is the greatness of the internetz,
anyone can say anything. so in conclusion, visit this website and read about your favorite songs.
do you think a song is written about you? say so, on this website. i think i'm going to go back to looking for some ridiculous shit.

ps. i feel like crap. my tooth is causing me pain. i couldn't sleep last night. i just kept moving around the bed...moaning and shit. my poor dog was the victim of my ceaseless movements. i finally fell back asleep at 5 am...only to wake up an hour later. tommorow i go to the dentist, finally. i know those bastards are only going to take x-rays. i am of the belief that they should pull this fuckin' tooth out.
when i was younger i used to think, hey, maybe i should just have dentures then i won't have to take care of my teeth, or get cavities. now i'm scared because my teeth are pretty much really fucked up and i wouldn't be surprised if they said i need dentures. the end.

i'll update later is i feel even more miserable or better.
))<>((

para ti no tengo amor....para ti no tengo nada

111408/1205pm

1.
the ups and downs are incredible,
i know them well.
looking back i can map out what
happened when, by the point in the
curve at that time.
the point is at the bottom right now.
if this time wasn't tainted with sorrow,
i could liken it to meditating,
to clearing my mind,
for i find myself empty but for the
sorrow.

2.
i love folk music because it speaks
to me it seams
to say things could be worse
but they may be getting better.
then there's the sadness.
the sad sound of the acoustic guitar.
the harmonica solo.
bobby d. had it right.
upbeat folk is good as well.
can't get enough of that tambourine,
beating and clanging out
the sound of solidarity.
making visible the
the invisible ties that bind.


****
I get on this trip listening to music that i like.
I will listen to a song over and over and over again
like it aint no thang. Today's song on loop is called
A Real Time Here by Lloyd & Michael



Above is a video of Lloyd & Michael performing live.
I have no clue what song it is because i cannot hear
sound from the youtube site at work for some reason.
so i guess i'll listen to my post later.
the end.

i can't get this out of my head

Mirah-Don't Die In Me




and while i was searching for this song, i also came upon this song, which reminds me of the Stardust days. back when i thought i was cool for dipping my toes into the pool of metal...

Children of Bodom-Angels Don't Die

Update...i guess the song is called Angels Dont' Kill
and they really need to work on actually making a video.
Maybe they're too 'effin me'al to bother with making a video.
who knows...i certainly don't....mmmmm, all this talk about metal
is making me want to head bang.




the end

long-disatance runner

every hello is an eventual goodbye.
all i can do is take you in with my eyes,
but that's never enough.
the touch is needed
to see if you're real.
i doubt my existense, as well.

******

the sun was coming in too bright through the window for it to be five thirty am. it was in fact seven twenty three and she was late again. no use rushing now...now that she knew she would be really late. how does one find the drive to get out of bed when you just barely got into it a few hours before. yes, it was only five hours ago that she had met beard-man. four hours ago that she had gone into a closet with him to fiddle around. she was very interested in fiddling but not the instruments. certain instruments were more useful than others in situations where one finds oneself in a closet with a bearded man. "harder," she told him.

******

i can't hold on to you through your memory.
i have no claim to your time.
you've found your other
so you've got to spend all your time with him not me.
even if we are 1200 miles apart and your actions are logical...
i feel you leaving.
but i've heard that's life...i guess i'm still waiting.

*******

you can't rewrite history
so go out and make your own
or stay in and make it with
the wringing of your hands
as they contemplate the void.

*******
tip:if you get an inkling that you should shower,
it's best not to ignore that feeling/hunch. crunch munch

******

the phone rang at two pm.
it reverberated through the house,
unanswered.

Cogman....thoughts on cogs and other things 10/16-1029

COGMAN

COGNISANCE

COGMAN...I READ A STORY IN COLLEGE ONCE ABOUT MEN BEING COGS IN THE MACHINE OF SOCIETY...THE WORKING WORLD. I THINK IT WAS SOMETHING THAT WAS WRITTEN BY FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY...OR TOLSTOY.


update...i found it...it's tolstoy


101608/0841am

with today's modern technology not keeping in touch is impossible. if you don't talk to someone it's because you no longer wish to. the barriers of distance and location are no longer there. the days of being on an oceanliner...or home on the prairie without a landline are over. i kind of wished i could go there. would i then want to connect?


0905am

sally don't you godon't you go round the roses...

i love when i hear a song on the itunes radio that i actually have at home on vinyl. this just happenedwith a grace slick and the great society song.i'd like to say that i rule, but i don't...grace slick rules.when i advertise for a roommate for my housei'd like to mention that we can share my record player. but really...will anyone be interested in this. i can'tget over the idea that if i don't move downtown nothing will happen for me. blast those parental ties...no really. blast them, then i'll be free. i can totally afford to live on my own somewhere but i help to pay all the utilities at home. the end. back to work.


1032am

oh my goodness i'm going to go crazy. i can't look at pictures of ***** without being filled with an intense longing. he has a very beautiful girlfriend. i'm so jealous. i want to be with him. someone left a comment in my honesty box saying that they masturbate to me and cum 3-4 times an hour. although this is probably a complete lie...i really wish it came from ***** the end. i need to get laid.


0220PM

estoy tripeando pelotas guey...pero it's not joke. te lo digo seriamente es muy interesante come el cerebro puede aprender tantas cosas. como los ser humanos son capaces de tener tantas lenguas y comnunicarse. quisierra estar en mi casa ahorita...pero solo para poder salir y fumer y entrar y hacer mis cosas o no hacer nada...quisas eso tambien estaria bien padre. el unico dia que puedo ver al muchacho mocho son lon lunes. he estado pensando en las cosas de amores...bueno, pues, las cosas de tener a un chavo, mas bien, pero si seria padre tener novio...no lo se por seguro. una hora con treinta y siete minutos hasta que es tiempo de salir a la casa....pero esto del trabjo ya me aburrio. lo unico que falta para hacer del aburriamento comido es la letra 't.' quisas un dia escriba una novela...quisas quisas quisas.

Este aviso es para informarle de las ofertas que estamos ofreciendo esta semana en nuestros paquetes de maquillaje 'Joder.' tus amigas te diran, "No...Jodas?" y tu les responderas, "Si. Jodas, guey."

101708
0324PM
did i just hear my co-worker tell mikey he could 'be sitting at home stroking"? it's probably not what he said, but if it is then it's eye-opening with what ease these dudes are talking about their dicks.

102008
0717am
i am having a very bad day. it started with my mom and her religion. then i almost burned my car with a cig. then my water bottle falls and breaks. and now i just feel like shit. and i left without giving my dog water and new pee pads. maybe i should just move out once and for all.

102908
0211pm
i never wonder what i missed at work
i always wonder what i missed in the past,
as if that would do any good.

walking away from the coffeeshop i feel dejected,
deflated and maybe some other de words.
not debunked...well perhaps.
i may have debunked myself,
stripped away the veil of self-deceit.
what was left was me, alone,with all my traits,
good or bad.

JUST ANOTHER PODUNK TOWN 09262008

i moved to albuquerque 1 year and 27 daysago. it was a hesitant move but a move nonetheless, more fueled by fear of survival than by true desire. i spent the first few months in a whirlwind of inactivity. it was spent getting used to the idea, if you will, the idea that was now fact. i lived in albuquerque and had definitely left los angeles. although i am not a lifetime angeleno, being there 6.5 years was enough time for me to become a born again one. i bled l.a. well, perhaps it was mostly mental, but there was blood, not always mine. yes, this is what i mean by being a part of the city. living next to a crackhouse...slowly cracking their talk. hearing them mumble, sometimes not so quietly between the hours of one am and five am...and eventually seeing them bleed. they've been shot at, my neighbors, and by default, i experienced this twice. hell, once we almost ran over a dead body. i blame it on the po-po for not taping off the road. so, where was i? oh yes, it was a difficult move considering my love affair with los angeles. i enjoyed the options open to me, for i didn't go out everyday, but i knew i could, if i so desired. here in albuquerque i live in the fuckin' boondocks...or rather all the way in timbuktu. my city is divided into four quadrants. i live in the sw quadrant, in what i believe is the most sw corner of the city...in housing developments. yes they're nice and all, but annoying as hell. yesterday i received a letter from the homeowner's association. it stated that as a part of living in a community i reaped the benefits of a nice community blahblah balh and that on their inspection they saw that my front yard has weeds growing, therefore i must fix this situation before i get fined. fuck you h.o.a. maybe less patroling the neighborhood trying to find ways to make more money and more minding of your own business. so now like a little bitch i have to do it. my mom's out of town and she would not like to be fined. you see the thing is i have no problem with doing this, pulling of weeds. my prob is that i've gone into hermit mode and i really don't want to do things in my front yard for fear that my neighbors will see me. don't get me wrong, i love my neighbors, but the thing is i volunteered once to do obama campaign work, then i didn't do anything after that. obama girl has called me on several occasions and i didn't answer. that is how i deal with things. so now i have to be all up in the front yard, full visibility, and deal with my shame of being a flakey-mc-flaken flake in the eyes of my neighbors. i don't think they'd judge, it's more of me judging myself than anything. to illustrate further my method of dealing with things, i shall tell the story of my bathroom. four days ago as i was getting ready for work, i'm sitting on the pot, and i happen to look into the tub, and what do i see? a centipede thingy...this one has 20 legs on each side...i should google that shit. anywhozers, this creature is still there. i don't want to touch it, i don't want to kill it. i just want it to go away. two days ago as i was in line to get food somewhere. there was a little boy and his father in front of me, and what did this boy have in his hands? a toy centipede. is this a sign from the universe? am i missing out on the message? i don't know.