Round Two

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So I guess it’s not as gone as I had previously assumed. Who am I kidding. It is. It’s gone. It has left me and I’m grasp at the coat tails of something else. Some other bit of inspiration. Though it may change the overall message, i think this will work. It kind of has to.

The previous post was supposed to be about how we can’t just be left alone. Everyone wants their two cents and everyone else want to give you theirs. About how I’m tired of being touched, influenced. Maybe I’ve even overstepped by saying that much. Really what it all boils down to is one simple thing.

I just want to be a lone right now.


Sad Clowns

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I started this off without a title. Not exactly a new approach for me but still not something I pull out of the “woodwork” all that often either. The space-bar on this keyboard is, quite, irritating, to say the least. It’s lost the ability to smoothly make contact with the circuit board underneath and thus releases with a fairly noticeable ‘thunk.’

I guess it really bothers me so much because I’ve spent so much of my life in the shadows avoiding the prying eyes and spotlight so many seem to covet. It was never really, my thing, even though every once in a while I’d long for a little appreciation myself. I’m just having a hard time trying to focus on the purpose of this in the first place with this space-bar right now. Oh well.

So, I started this with thoughts about how my writing has developed over the years. Even to this day I follow the guidance of muses but things aren’t as easily expressed anymore. Specifically, I refer to the funny.

I miss being able to dispense with comedy on a whim. It was almost my art. I guess, that’s really it. This keyboard has killed my mood. Or perhaps I should’ve dwelled more on the topic in the first place.

Take care.


Turns Out She Has a Boyfriend

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I had a nice little bit stored up but decided its worth to be equivalent to the sum of every thing else I’ve written up till now. I’m trying real hard not to pander but I’m just not sure any of this will come across connecting with its namesake.

You’d never know there was a delay but that’s the whole point of this in the first place; complete transparency. I came to realize I’ve taken “pander” for granted. I looked it up and now I reflect on how many times I’ve probably come off as a pretentious prick in high school. Then again, I was probably considered as such for any number of other reasons. I still am. I have the hardest time staving off the initial dismissal of the masses whenever interaction is mandated. It’s just easier to consider them incompetent. So much time is wasted on them. Thought, wasted, and for what?

That got pretty dark pretty quickly huh? No wonder I don’t have any friends. So, the whole point of this was because I’d started using facebook as a soap box. Again. Unfortunately, tumblr’s harder to come by in this place. Restrictions.

The news wasn’t a surprise. I’m more irate that I now have to find a new venue for subterfuge. It’s hard pretending to feel normal but it works when it works and for that and hopefully only in this short span I do hope to stay blissfully ignorant.

And with fractured attention we find yet another abrupt ending.


Conversations With Guardos

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For some reason I have the line, “Picking out my ‘fro with my fist-comb” stuck in my head. See link for source. That being said, I started a conversation with myself. Turns out, I’m still a dick. Go figure. Sad thing is that I just wrote that for the effect. I’ve consistently had conversations with myself for as long as I can remember. It’s not like I’ve ever terribly been close to anyone. Even when I DID have an abundance of “friends”.

Got distracted by something for a bit and dropped the flow. Sadly I guess that equates to the start of a new paragraph. Almost dropped another “go figure,” depressing, I know.

What was this even supposed to have been about I wonder now. Not much has changed since…oh, yesterday. Maybe I just…. Actually let me scratch this thought first.

I’m still searching for kin. The spirit kind of course. Someone or something out there that gets me. Like really, REALLY, “gets” me. So, until that days comes, I’ll continue to reach out. Nothing new with that declaration either but it just popped in all of a sudden. So, back to the random I guess.

I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right but here goes anyway.


Building Again

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So, just like that, everything begins to change again. I stumbled upon the innermost feeling I could find and was left no better than when I started. This isn’t a depressive rant this time. This is what’s happening here and now.

It’s easier. Accepting such a miserable truth has actually made the world so much more palatable. I don’t know why but at the moment it doesn’t interfere with the path I’ve chosen to walk so I’ll continue it. Continue it until there’s nothing left.

Of it or me.



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I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m garbage. Surprisingly it makes the day go by so much smoother. I wear it like a badge at this point. It’s my “YOLO” though “YOGFO” would be far more accurate. See? And with that I’ve tied the title to the content. Now what else is there to write?

A lot can be ascertained about a person from the way they write. I personally enjoy tumblogs that are picture heavy than not and the fact that mine is the opposite I think truly reflects that. I can’t stand myself and create things I also can’t stand. But I have to stay honest. I have to stay true to what’s inside.

This was never about gaining an audience. This was about finding that kindred. That one to prove I’m not alone. So far, no luck. So, I continue to write.


For Another Last Time

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Still feeling pretty crappy. I follow enough people in the “good will” business to know that I’m doing this all wrong. Really, really wrong. I’m holding back. Isolating myself. Closing myself off from the world I’ve come to exist within and consciously pushing everything that even resembles sincerity or kindness away. I know all this and I continue to do it. I even know why.

But, I guess that’ll be for another time.


A While

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It’s not as though it has really been all that long since the last post. Then again it would appear as though I’m giving this far more attention than any tangible outlets so, that may very well be the reason.

I’m writing again. Well, sort of. I hate myself for any number of reasons but really this focus is on the fact that without inspiration I’m no more than mute. I end up regurgitating the same crap till I’m blue in the face, go for long absences, and then eventually return to spew the same stuff all over again except it feels new because I forget due to all the time spent avoiding the issue. But that’s my whole life isn’t it?

What’s the point is really what I’m getting at. I think? I don’t know. I’m just tired I guess. I just deleted a reference to suicide. Time to call this closed.


Still So Low

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Dated: 01OCT12

Still feeling down. Hasn’t really gotten worse. Just don’t feel good in the slightest. Pissed off every day. The job comes first but at the end of the day I hardly have the time to pull myself back together. When this is finally over, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to take a long sabbatical if there’s any part of my psyche even left to recover.



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Dated: 30SEP12

Away From Ground. Feels like I’m falling again. Can’t say much else. Everything seems to want me to believe I’m less than garbage. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe I am.


"I'm in the dirt and in the gutter...

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Dated: 28SEP12

...clearly this can’t be my life.“ - The Dears - There Goes My Outfit

So yeah, I’m kind of in a third world country right now. Weird how that works out huh?


Leaving Soon

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Dated: 15SEP12

Once again it seems like the weight of the world has begun to rest on my shoulders. The call has been made and but a new breed is necessary. A stronger, more adaptable, more intelligent breed. As greatly as things have changed however, there appears to be one requirement that never does. Will. The will to persevere. Everything else is just excess.



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But no cigar. Story of my life. But I guess that’s fine. It’s not like I smoke anyway.



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Nothing New

French tips have been ruined by porn for me. Now whenever I see a female sporting the signature style I no longer find them attractive. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. Okay, it is an exaggeration. Really, I just feel their attractiveness quotient has diminished. Nothing more, nothing less.

Digging deeper though, it’s not just that. For a while now it’s become more apparent that I never seem to find myself on the same page with women in terms of style/fashion. I see ones dawning animal print and just think tacky. Weaves/etc. and by extension [pun] eyelashes, nails (all fake), and just think, unnecessary. Same goes for makeup really. I just don’t see the point or better yet don’t see how that’s a thing.

I reminisce about simpler times. Minimal makeup because ladies, you’re already beautiful. Emphasizing one’s real hair, because unless you have an ailment or deficiency, it grows to whatever length you desire eventually.

The list could go on but the point is made. It just seems like I’m on a different page, or maybe just in the wrong era. It’s not just the media that makes people hate themselves for what they have, it’s other people. I know I don’t fit it or rather feel as though I do. Abrupt ending.



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I figure I’ll try and be more consistent with titling from now on. To be honest, I don’t think I really care but then again, something-something poignant about a world/life/other such mundane metaphor with guns sans triggers and the chaos that ensues.

But what if there wasn’t chaos? No one would even notice if that’s the way it had always been.



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It's Official

I update this thing far more than I’ve updated my actual site! I’d say it’s a bit depressing but really, it barely holds weight amidst the other turmoil.



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Sure. Lets Give it a Go

She emailed me back. We talked. I sent the words that title this torrid piece.


This is America, Thanos

You never realize how difficult it is to stay relevant until you dedicate your time to maintaining what amounts to a blog. "Maintains" is a bit of a strong word but just go with me here for a moment. There has been a lot going on, in my head, as of late. A lot of things I'd love to touch on. But then it's strange because I lack the time to give those ideas the proper coverage they deserve. It is because of that and this looming fear of relevance-there it goes again-that I find myself unable to commit the words. It's a shame. Why do I care so much about being late to the party? Simple. I feel like it's a waste to purport the same trash that everyone else is. It's a waste of my time and the time of any patrons who would visit my "humble" establishment here.

This isn't about click bait. My site, not the title. The title is for sure click bait but it does serve a purpose as well. I want to further the conversation. That's where things like this place--looking further outward--can thrive. The internet. Innovation shines there. Or, at least it can if we allow it. So why not?

This is America. And this is the link to the video. And everything and this and that has been said about it. But no one seems to be talking about the other little subtleties. Maybe my own experience helps shape the perspective; not maybe, definitely, but that's beside the point. I saw the video and looked at scenes where the children are on the rafters above with their cellphones that were originally on Childish Gambino move to the violence that propagated the background and saw that as a call to action. To use that "tool" which he so cleverly alludes to just prior to the scene in question. How those children, having their faces concealed, showcases that it's not a race thing. And that symbolism of the modern revolutionist and how it will be the youth that spark it, just all speaks to me of so much more depth. The bell curve of the piece. How it starts simple, the crescendo, plateau, and then the decrescendo which no one really talks about. How the turning point, again at the children with faces obscured juxtaposed with the ones that were surrounding him, remarks at the height of the "performer." Let's call it the "Ice Effect." Referencing the rappers, T and Cube, as opposed to the transitioned form of water. How they came up with truth and "realness" and then eventually became staples of "a life." Faking it. Actors portraying things and lives they no longer lived or ever had in some cases. Just how once Childish raises his hands without actually holding a firearm and his "posse" vanishes. How he walks alone to the sum of his work. A stable of vehicles. A pretty girl. His wealth, his worth, for all he did to get there amounting to really, barely anything at all. Hollow. And into the end as he runs in the dark. For all he did, his endeavors in the end made him no different from those others who fell before him. The people, America, uses him till they no longer need him. In the coming revolution, he'll have to pay his dues just as everyone else. His time is over. But Childish has rapped about things like that for years. And comedians of colors have remarked about it as well. That, even the wealthiest, most famous, most popular person of color is still just that before anything else. At least in this system.

So where does Thanos fit in? Sure it was a distraction. Sure I enjoyed it and would speed the money over and over again in any countless number of alternate realities. But really, the only reason it's there is because I had this joke sitting in my head for a few weeks now about how I didn't realize Avenger's: Infinity War was going to be a horror movie. Because a black guy is the first to die.



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I’m pretty sure I’ve invited thoughts of fatal harm upon my roommate four or more times in my mind today.


Sometimes they don't finish at all. (11SEP12 V)

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“Nice guys don’t always finish last!!!” - Female’s headline on dating website