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 |  Zee Journal! |
| My blog. Journal. Documentary. Life. Sometimes. |
| Gone till Thursday. Time for a small vacation to the sand dunes to go play on some Quads and read. And drink. Happy early Thanksgiving to you all. |
| In my blog post three days ago I used the Fuck words 4 times. I actually had someone comment about it in my blog. All I have to say is: this is my fucking blog, and as my fucking blog, you'll have to fucking deal with it or fucking fuck off. Fuck. This is an 18+ blog, and a place used for just my random ideas. If I want to talk about the intricacies of British Politics while only using the word fuck I'll do it. I have no problem with cursing. Granted, it shows a great variety of vocabulary not to, but when I'm having an informal conversation so fucking what? Anyways...my wrist is feeling a bit better today. I was talking to loon last night about the fate of my time in the RPG forum called "Escape". I think I'm about to end my character's time there. There's a little too much of a "personal storytelling" feel, rather than a general story forwarding arch. I'm trying to be nice. I then began to discuss creating my own RPG forum, but trying to work upon the issues I've experienced in Escape. I'm not sure it would really take off because of the requirements I might desire from the members. Those being that they have to post at least once a day during active game days (Sunday-Thursday), and only 5 people actively playing within the game(this number is something to be debated). // Fuck Count: [10 times] // |
| For some reason my left wrist is just throbbing. It's driving me nuts. I was going to write a longer blog post, but I just can't stand it right now. I might have to go into the doctor if it's not better by tomorrow. Night. |
| I wanted to have a relatively somber blog post, but then I put on the Gorillaz "19/2000" and that went out the fucking window. Something about this song makes me happy beyond words. 2-D and Noodle are my favorites. I went to my cousin Michelle's wedding today. That was literally the whole day. It was a two hour drive there, six hour ceremony/reception, and then two hours back. Just so you guys know I'm not fond of any of these social events: weddings, graduations, and funerals. I don't like them. I don't require people to come to mine either, and because of this I hate when people require me to. That, or when they do the passive, "Oh, you don't have to come" while at the same time thinking, "If you don't fucking come I will come to your god damn house, kill your dog, and dance naked with its splayed carcass over my body as I watch your house burn." I think one of the reason's I'm like this is simply because I was born on the 21st of December. Any kid who has a birthday that close to, or on, a monumental holiday will most likely divulge that there are two very negative components to it: 1.) You get shit for presents if you are around Christmas. People stiff you with the, "Look, it's your birthday AND Christmas present!" and then present you with a 5 dollar book. See if you can pull that shit on them. 2.) No one is around to come to your birthday party. Since I was so close to Christmas, most families were already going to their holiday destination, or had family, or something going on that kept them from ever coming. Either that or I'm a fucking loser. I can't accept the second option because the twine that holds my sanity dangling might actually snap. Let's also discuss what it's like to be the only person going to the wedding that doesn't have a date for the fucking thing, excluding the ten year olds. The past few family weddings have led to a rather dark and twisted tradition, and that is the bet. A mystic ritual to which all of the male cousins of the family move into a shadowed hallway and take stabs at the calendar, making a tormented game out of the future of our loved ones. With my cousin Brian and his first wife I actually won the bet: 2 weeks. It was unfair, actually. The bride had slept with 3 out of the 4 men standing for the wedding. This was after the proposal, but Brian wouldn't listen. This wedding, however, found no betting. I know this doesn't guarantee that they'll make it to the airport for their honeymoon without divorcing, but they actually seemed happy and pleased with one another. It wasn't that happy, "Look! We got married!" bullshit you normally see. It was hard to explain, but I might call it the closest to love my family has ever touched on. Hell, the way they were it makes me rethink if I know two cents about the emotion. Anyways, it's 4:39, and Jesus would not be pleased. I shall leave you with the lyrics of the song that brings me great joy. Download it, or buy the album, if you can. It won't disappoint. GORILLAZ - 19-2000 Lyrics The world is spinning too fast I'm buying lead Nike shoes To keep myself tethered To the days I try to lose My mama said to slow down You should make your shoes Stop dancing to the music Of Gorillaz in a happy mood Keep a mild groove on Ba ba ba Day dee bop There you go! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! There's a monkey in the jungle Watching a vapour trail Caught up in the conflict Between his brain and his tail And if time's elimination Then we got nothing to lose Please repeat the message It's the music that we choose Keep a mild groove on Ba ba ba Day dee bop OK bring it down yeah we gonna break out Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine! Ah Ah Ah Ah Day doo de bop |
| So my father took me to Fry's Electronics today. He said he would buy me the Graphic Table I've been wanting, and so he did. But he didn't just buy me any ol' Graphic Table. He bought me the Wacom Intuos 9x12. It's like the finest rock on the block, and I'm hooked. It's a bit odd to get used to though. The drawing area is practically the screen. It's not like a mouse, because the pencil just doesn't pick up from wherever you last left off. If you clicked on the bottom left hand, pull the pencil off the map, and then entered it back at the top right, the pointer would be at the top right. It makes it a little difficult. But it's awesome to be able to draw with it. It's amazingly accurate. Makes me excited. Just need to become a better artist, and then become a better digital artist. Then it's all mine. That's right: big pimpin'. |
| This evening was very different than my normal nights. The greatest divergence was that I actually went out to a club. One of Shauna's coworkers raps(which I wasn't too interested in), but found myself going just for the hell of it. It was nice to go out, it really was. And Shauna has a hot little Japanese friend. Not that she interests me, mind you. Cough. Cough. Anyways... My father came home today from his trip to Texas. He was there for some military conference, and upon returning he was kind of a dick, but yet helpful, all in the same ball of wax. My dad simply thinks that my depression would go away if I went out running every day. Now, I grant you, exercise is a great way of upping your emotional status. I know this very well. It realeases endorphins in the mind, etc., yatta yatta, blah blah blah, but the thing is: exercising isn't going to take away years of depression and my other issues. He offered, in trade of me finishing that website and that comic for him: a year long membership at the gym. It's something I've really been wanting lately, but known I couldn't really afford. The other thing that made this a differnt night in a good way was the possibility of an early Christmas present. I've always been artistic. In High School I didn't want to be a writer, I wanted to be an artist, but I never worked for it as much as I should have. I played video games instead. Then I ended up meeting my friend Mario who I've lost contact with over the years after High School(Which was my fault). Mario is simply an astonishing artist. When I became close friends with him I became depressed about my own artistic talents, because they were nowhere near as great as his. There was, however, one thing I did have that he didn't: the ability to create stories. Together we began to work on a few comics with one another. I still have a bunch of rough sketches strewn about of my characters brought to stunning life. However, Mario was a strong Catholic and nearly 80% of my ideas came into conflict with his religious views, and so we never could quite meet eye-to-eye with one another. As for my own artistic ability, I've had art teachers have me show them my artwork. They were generally amazed by it. The only issue with it is this: I can copy. I can copy something to the 't'. You give me a picture and time and I can give you an exact copy. Yet, I can't really sit down with a blank piece of paper in front of me and draw something out of nothing. When I told them this they simply said: "That's the first step." All I needed was some proper schooling and I would most likely be drawing at whatever level I wanted. I used to get discouraged easily. Anyways, I'm going way off base here: back to the early Christmas present. So, in the past couple of months, hell, years, I've joked about creating a web comic. For those of you not versed in what a "web comic" is, I suggest you go to my favorites: www.penny-arcade.com www.vgcats.com www.gucomics.com www.pvponline.com www.machall.com ...just to name a few. Anyways, getting back into all of this Photoshop stuff and my father wanting me to do all of this artwork for money, I've kind of become warmer to the idea of developing my artistic side a bit. This is where the present comes in. There are wonderful creations of man called graphic tablets. They're basically drawing pads for your computer. With these beautiful inventions you can draw something on a pad and "voila" you have it staring back at you from Photoshop, or whatever poison you choose. Simply put: I want one, and so I hinted at my dad - okay, beat him with- that this is something I would like for Christmas. He simply asked, "Is this something you could use now for what you are doing for me and Monte(the man I'm doing the website for)?" I replied like an obedient gerbil, "Yes." He said, "Okay, well, let's see about getting you one tomorrow or something." All I have to say is, "That's shit hot." So many people have asked me, "Why don't you draw your own comics? You have the ideas, why not draw them?" Well, maybe I can make that a possibility sometime in the near future. We'll see. I know I would like to maybe start it all out by doing a web comic or something, because I'm insane enough to pull it off me thinks. Not sure. Self....esteem...collapsing around my idea. Argh! I am such a retard. |
| So tonight I was chatting with people online when out of nowhere I get an IM from an old classmate of mine. We both took Small Group Communications together a year ago. I'm exceptionally bitter about this class. At the end of the semester we were required to have an hour long presentation done. We were seperated into groups of four. Guess who did all the work? Worst of all, my ex's mother taught the class while my ex was systematically ripping my heart out. Anyways... So she IM's me, and at first I had no idea who the hell she was. After a bit of catching up I ask her what she has been doing since we last talked. She tells me she went to NAU for about a year, and was now just settling back into the valley. Flowing with the conversation I ask her what she is doing for a job now that she is down here. She replies: "Working for an escort service." Granted, the girl was moderately attractive, but not quite what I would consider escort quality. I ask, "What exactly are you doing for them?" She nonchalantly says "Showing the boys a good time." I simply must sum it up in one word: "Goo." That's right. Goo. What disturbed me the most was after she drops this little bombshell on me, she starts fishing for people that might be interested in her services, even going so far as trying to bait me. Let me make this clear to you all. The day that I find myself having to pay for sex is the day that I will literally cut my own wrists and bleed out, ending my pitiful fucking life. Besides, with the amount of work I put into that presentation I figure she owes me. Just kidding. So yeah, this week has just been a little to dramatic. It makes me wonder what the fuck is going on. It's like the world's being shaken up like a snow globe. With that, it is 4:07 and I am going to bed. It's all quiet on the intruder front and I'm exhausted. I think I've got maybe 4-5 hours sleep today. |
| So, I ended up going to counselling today. I was running on two hours of sleep and my mind feels like mush. She wants me to keep going to ACA(Adult Children of Alcoholics) meetings, and finish reading my book. She was kind of disappointed when I came in today and she heard that I didn't go to one of the meetings. So...we'll see how things go. |
| It's currently 4:45 in the AM. Sometime around 4:00, as I was about to crawl under my blankets, I heard the gate in my backyard open. My room is directly above it, and I had my window open. I thought that was kind of odd considering I thought I heard my brother go into his room about 10 minutes earlier. Outside of my room I could hear the television on downstairs, so I wander down there to see if my brother was still up. I thought maybe he was taking out a trash can or bringing one back. Not an abnormal event for the vampires of Hanson Manor. He wasn't down there however. I crept back upstairs and sat in the loft, attempting to listen and see if I could hear any more noises. Katie, our German Shepherd, was outside. She barked once, but was silent after. I waited a few moments after hearing some odd sounds and then I crept into my mom's room and woke her up. She keeps a gun in the house, and so I took it and then we woke up my brother. I passed the gun onto him, and that is when we started hearing someone fidgeting with the backdoor downstairs. It's a double door, and so it is easy to hear if someone is fiddling with it. My mother called 911, and we all sat in the loft waiting to hear the police arrive. A couple minutes later we heard running on the rocks outside and a few minutes after that a knock on the door. It was a group of police officers asking if we could put our dog in the house so that they could check the backyard out. I went down to Katie's doggy door and sat staring at it. Why couldn't she get in? I pushed my hand against the flap and it hit the dirty plastic shell of my garbage can. Someone had pushed the can completely against it so that Katie couldn't get in or out. The oddest thing of all was the fact that Katie didn't even bark at these people. It's creepy. Normally she would bark her head off, and the only thing I can think of is that she knows the people that came into the backyard, or that maybe they had something to give her to keep her pacified. The Police Officers couldn't come up with any conclusive evidence one way or another, so we have made sure to lock the house up tight. It makes me wonder what would have happened if I wasn't up right now. Would they have got in? Could I be, at this moment in another reality be sitting with a gun in my face or worse? Killed in my sleep incapable of stopping these people. I think this was one of those: "Everything happens for a reason" moments. If I didn't stay up like a Vampire maybe I wouldn't have heard that gate open. Maybe my family could be in some serious shit right now. It's creeping me out. I'm outtie. Still got that Counselor appointment at 8:30. It's 4:55 right now. I had to write this out to work out some of the shock. ~Shudders~ |
| Life has been a bit strange lately. I'm not sure if that has leaked into my blog too much, but now it's going to pour into it. Life since my last counselling appointment has been interesting. When we had our initial talk, she evaluated me. She feels that my depression is currently in the danger area of the spectrum. I began to talk to her about how I was feeling overwhelmed with all that my life was asking of me. Normally I'm really dedicated to my schoolwork. I'm an 'A'/'B' student in college and I've always been motivated to keep it that way. Yet, here comes this semester. Whereas I'm the one yelling at my friends to keep their asses in class, I'm the one now ditching them left and right. I started the semester out at 17 credits. I was pumped and ready before the semester started. It was going to be a cinch. Then the semester started, and so did my depression. I hit a wave of depression like nothing I had ever experienced before. I wasn't suicidal, but I was a phantasmal blob. I sat on the couch, with the lights out and the television flickering. I didn't read, write, nothing. I simply sat around and played a video game to help me fantasize what it must be like to live a life where things are actually happening: where I'm making a difference. As of my appointment I was taking 6 credit hours. I dropped the others. I couldn't help it. I literally just had no will to do it. It was like someone who is 600 pounds laying on my back and telling me to get up and run. She listened to what I had to say about everything else in my life. I told her about how my family expects me to do everything. I'm required to make sure the house is cleaned, the cars are taken care of, animals are fed, walked, and groomed. I do everything for them but the jobs they are employed to. One of my friends joked and told me I had the life of a "House Wife". On top of this I don't have a steady income. The company I practically helped build with my mom is no longer lucrative. After 9/11 and her embarassing display of alcoholism we are living in a metaphorical Purgatory. We get a job every so often, but it's rarely enough to make my car payment every month. Yet, she still requires me to be in the company. My father on the other hand piles more work on me than I can handle. He's backed me into a corner to not only design a website, but custom draw the entire thing for a friend of his. On top of this he wants a fully illustrated and colored comic for his branch of his military that talks about what you need not to do if you wish to be a member of the Air Force. I have to draw two versions: One for the Air National Guard, and another for the Air Force in Tucson. On top of that I'm trying to find a way of moving out. Shauna and I already have an apartment picked out and we're planning to move into it by the first of January. So the stress of wondering if I'm financially capable is killing me. I'm still living with all of this grief and depression to. I can't quite shake losing my 'ex', still trying to come to terms with my fling with Mystery Girl X, and coming to terms with my parents, how they treated me, along with my own past substance use. My counselor looked at me and said: "You are carrying way too much. What if I gave you a doctor's note which would allow you to withdraw from your classes with no penalty?" I wanted to cry the moment those words left her lips. I know many people around me are sighing, shaking their heads, and silently screaming in their heads, but to hear someone else say it just lifted such a weight from my chest. I need to get out on my own. Sink or swim, I have to get out. I have to disconnect myself before I can really be myself. I know that if I continue to stay in this house for the sake of getting out of school I'm going to eventually lie down and never get back up. A part of me wants to shake its finger at me, tell me its wrong, but too much of me thinks otherwise. To those that call me a coward, lazy, or incapable you get my middle finger. Sorry, but I need this for me. But it is 3:33 in the AM and I have a counselor appointment at 8:30. I'm gonna go to bed. Viva la Resistance. |
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