04MAR17 II

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Brackets


Watch me as I continue to slide down this path of destruction. So distraught in such a cold dark but what else is there for those that have rejected humanity? To be something greater or simply out of fear of being so much less. Dead men tell no tales so I suppose I must still be alive. Somewhere or something inside me. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm just afraid. I don't want to be here. There's nothing truer. I just don't want to be here. This was his world. It'll never be mine. Not this time, not any time, not ever. I have not the necessities to make a place for myself. That was never my function. The trek awaits. So I continue.



"What am I?"

That's been coming up a lot lately. The answer is never satisfying. The answer is never what I want it to be. I was asked if I was a good person. I hesitated. Before I could figure out how to answer the person no longer wanted to hear it. 'Ask yourself that and when you have the answer tell it to yourself.' That stung. I didn't say 'ouch' though. The person has no idea how much it sucks to be right all the time. So much so that even when you call yourself anything but, you're still it. Right. It's laughable. No. It's just sad. It's sad and I still don't understand how to relate to humans in a manner that is acceptable for both parties. I wonder if that's the nicer way to answer the question. I am unrelatable.

For what seems like the longest time now I've found myself wondering if there was something wrong with me or the world. Should be a no-brainer but whenever I speak to the crisis hotline or therapists they imply that perhaps it isn't. Me that is. So I've been putting it to the test. My life is full of setbacks. Every life is. Instinctively I attribute the blame to me and my shortcomings. The implication is that depression makes one less objective. So, I try to leave myself open to the possibility that I'm just catastrophizing. Recently though things expanded outward into all aspects of my life. I lost every friend I once had. "Lost" would be a lie. I distanced myself from them. The reasoning is convoluted but what it amounts to is the fact that I didn't feel like they were true friends anymore. Now, just over half a decade later, trying to make a friend again I find that I was short-sided in my previous understanding. I've found that it wasn't that they weren't true friends. It's just that I didn't know what a friend was. Something, I think I finally understand now. And, like so many other things in this life, I am what's wrong with the equation.

A friend isn't supposed to be their for you. A friend isn't supposed to accept you for who or what you are. A friend isn't supposed to allow you to vent your frustrations or release your pain and sorrow. A friend is supposed to tell you your happiness is a lie or wrong and that you should find it elsewhere. A friend is supposed to tell you you're not mentally okay and that there's something wrong with you. A friend is supposed to set limits on what you can say or express. A friend is supposed to tell you that you being honest and open makes them feel bad and unhappy. A friend is supposed to tell you that they don't want to hear about your day, your interests, your dreams. A friend is the person you have to warp and contort yourself to make happy because no one else wants anything to do with you. A friend reminds you that deep down inside, you're worth more dead than you ever were alive.

"What am I?"

I am better in smaller doses. I am better faceless. I am better when I don't speak. I am better when I'm filling a void in someone else's life until they get what they were missing and can move on. I am unremarkable. I am undesirable. I am alone. I am in the dark. I am alone. I am where I've always been. I am alone. I am the only place I'm allowed to be. I am better in smaller doses.

Okay, so the last few weeks have been depressing as all hell. Fortunately for any readers, you'll be safe in knowing I'm not going to kill myself. At least not deliberately. For some reason I seem to have the capacity to contain all this sorrow and pain. Maybe because the self-hate runs just that deep. Either way, welcome to the empty lamb. And would you look at that. The worthless sacrifice. Seems fitting. But no, that's me projecting myself on this. I'm not emptylamb.


The vessel I fill with my love, my pain, my joy, my sorrow, my rage, my compassion, my mind, my soul, my all to sacrifice for that which resides beyond. I guess I lied. I am going to kill myself. But it's okay. It was always going to end that way. I've been trying so hard to figure this out but I already had the answer the whole time. It can't be the whole world that's wrong so it has to be me. I'm what's wrong. So I'm what must go.


Sky Williams 28MAY17

Medium:  iPhone Notes/Tweet

Context:  Corrections in Brackets


1 video a week or 1000 videos a week don't mean anything to the craft. Artists/creators tap into something beyond mere logic to spawn something from essentially nothing. It's like gathering heat from a flame except in this case there's no telling when that source will extinguish. Better or worse is inconsequential as this is a matter of things left unsaid, avenues left untried. So ask yourself, is what you do about what others perceive (to include your own perception) or about the message?


Can Sociopaths Be Suicidal?

There's no good reason to start these with "I want" but that always seems to be the go to. It's Valentine's Day. Usually the equates to nothing for me but now here I am. Thinking of someone. Thinking of someone who by all accounts doesn't want me. At least not in the same way I do them. Can you still have heartaches if you have no heart? Can sociopaths be suicidal?

Wow, call me the "one-pump chump" over here. I already let out the title and we haven't even gotten to the second paragraph. Maybe I'm just off my game more than I thought. Maybe I'm a bigger idiot than.... What? I thought? Such a waste of line space.

What's the update? That's what this is for after all. Didn't have one last week. Not for lack of trying... wait, no. Definitely for lack of trying. I had some stuff going on that was too important to create a post but not important enough to remember after the fact. That sounds fair and legitimate right? Nope. Okay.

It's "Valentine's Day." What does that mean to me? What does that mean to my life? Wasn't I trying to die not all that long ago? (Never stopped, still trying) But where is all this coming from is what I keep asking myself. Lie. I don't ask myself that. I ask what I feel as the world burns around me. The answer helps me gauge my mental state. Have to love that subconscious mind. I'm sick. I tried to save someone for the first time in a while. Didn't know where the impulse came from. Maybe the last remnants of him. Maybe the re-ignition of that old core directive. I'm fading out. I got blood on me. Had to reach through puke filled water to open a drain so the person wouldn't drown in their own vomit. I carried them to their room. I helped them stay alive and all I could think was, "are humans really just that weak?" No one needs me. Not really. I'm slowly losing it all and no one notices. That's the way I want it. But it's "Valentine's Day" and I want to do something special. I can't tell what's real anymore. Is this another mask or is it the only genuine left?

Can sociopaths be suicidal?



Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Parentheses


I forgot my name. I forgot my voice. I forgot how little I stop(p)ed caring. It was nice.


You'll Never Know How Badly You Make Me Want to Die

Last week was a rough week. A lot happened in the space of the nothing that transpired on top. I'd love to say it felt like I was floating but I'm afraid my feet are firmly planted. I'm stuck. I'm stuck trying to make heads or tails of what I've been presented. Things are "good." Many of my concerns have been alleviated in terms of necessities for living. It was honestly a bit touch and go there for longer than I would have preferred but so is the way. I have a friend. The one. Been a while since I've had one. Since I've had anyone to talk to really. I've recovered some semblance of my former creativity again. I'm writing again and even sparingly pick up the pencil and sketch a bit. Things aren't bad. Anyone notice the decrescendo?

I won't say I haven't felt this kind of sad or down before because I have. It's just that there's something else tangled in with it. This would be the paragraph that I'd take to give the flip of everything I listed previously right? Symmetry. Balance. But it's more than that. Not this paragraph no. The break that has formed. I've fallen into a place all too familiar. A place made familiar by the burst of content I produced prior to my last fall. Thank the internet! I have documented, my rise and fall--see upcoming tumblr throwbacks. It puts a lot into perspective. That sounds nice but really there isn't a lot. It's simple. It has always been simple but I seem to always find myself so easily swayed into forgetfulness. This world isn't for things like me. I will always be on the outside looking in. No one will join me. Commiserate with me. Save me. Kill me. Because even if there were one who tried, I'd never allow it. My pain is my burden. And I'll just have to take solace in knowing that eventually I'll absorb enough to get beyond this propensity for saving others. That eventually I'll get to die. That eventually I'll be able to kill myself for real.

What's so wrong with appreciating death? I keep asking myself that. I mention it's on my mind and immediately, conversations shift. What's so good about living? The potential for happiness? And if I were to die next year? Next month? Next week? Tomorrow? Today? Would the potential happiness alleviate the decades of pain and misery? What makes suicide so wrong? What makes it such a litmus test for the broken?

What am I living for? I can't seem to find a reasonable answer. Because he hasn't saved enough people? Because I'm still attached to this world in some way? Because I get off on the pain of living? Take your pick. Each as ludicrous as the last. I live because it's less of a hassle. Because I don't have the means to wipe myself from existence without some inevitable fallout. Not yet at least. I made the mistake of letting people in. I made the mistake of acquiring associations. An association.

A friend.

Everything is cyclic. Just like every friend before things seem to be going just the same way.

The means to survive but lacking substance. The drive to create but without feeling. A friend I can't confide in. Just like before and the time before that. It's me. I'm the commonality. The world's not broken. Just me. It was always me. And just as every time prior, if I can just accept that truth, I may find a way forward.

I love how much she makes me want to die. How it hurts to be with her. How alone I feel with her in my life. How I'm reminded time and again, and this time again, that happiness isn't for things like me.

I love her because she makes me want to die.

I love her because she reminds me that even at my best, I'm undesirable. How every smile I bring to her face bleeds me more as I sacrifice what little is left of myself to wear the facade. You're the only one smiling anymore. But that'll change. Peace will come in death. I can only hope.

My last hope.

I'll be set free in my death.


03MAR17 IV

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Parentheses


Are we going to break the last vestige of this human shell? Awake the daemon. To accept death or sacrifice all that's left in the hope that there's enough left to revive. Been waiting so long, too long. A decision? Decide or die for real. It's not about what they want this time. It's not about what "you" want either. It's about; it's about time to find out what it's even about. Nothing more till then. After, will be after.



Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Parentheses


I don't remember what year it is. Just that it's soon to not be today any longer. Tomorrow will be here and I'll have not moved. I'm still not moving. I'm still here as everything changes, vanishes, fades away. Where am I supposed to be? Supposed to go? When will I finally wake up and actively engage in this life the body floats through? The masses it interacts with? Perhaps that's the point of this place. The taste is what's left. The sight, touch, and smell were first. Never to grow up right, call me the third/forth. My name is Left.


Rough Days or the Desire to Drown

It's that time again. I've'nt been this consistent with updates in a long, long time. Maybe I'm circling the bottom. Must be something dramatic because I hate this keyboard. I kind of hate this laptop too. Fifteen inches but sans bezel. I miss my 17in. Sure it was cumbersome but at least it had a full-sized keyboard. Any surprisingly more USB ports. Why I've decided to waste lines on that I don't think I'll ever know. Lie. I know exactly why. I don't want to discuss what's really on my mind right now. It's been a rough day. And not just because I'm abusing contractions. Pull up a seat.

I'm abusing the crap out of these contractions. I'm also listening to a certain playlist while I plug away at the keys. (humble link -- Momentum) The point is that I'm on a time limit and haven't even gotten to the true point. Story of my life. Oh, surprise, I'm down. Maybe that'd be a better alias. Call me Down, I'll never be Up. Doesn't have the same appeal as my other but since there's likely only one person who'd get that reference I'll just let it die there. I get it. I really do. I need help.

So what's what? I find myself alone again. That's not new. I've been touching on that for like two weeks already. I want what I can't have. Sure. I want to believe that maybe there's some thing or some one who can fill this void in my life. Maybe I should go back to abandoning life. Was easier when death was a blessing. Wow, I miss my attachment to death. Maybe I should start drinking again. What is the point?! Get to the point! Right.

She doesn't want me. I still want her. It won't end well for me. I'm accepting that. But still feel like I'm drowning. Is there anything I want that I can actually have? Or is this it? Just one failure after the next, just barely getting by until my time finally runs out? Today was a rough day.

I've been isolated personally and now, today, professionally. This keeps happening. That means it's me right? Can't be everyone else if I'm the constant. Or so the saying goes. This playlist is really not meant for this kind of writing. Like I'm sloshing through. Can't see, can't think. Getting hit with nostalgia. Hard. Reminiscing. The good and the bad. Mostly the bad. Taints it all. Can't even cry. I told her about the hurt. Never told anyone about that. Maybe this is what I've been wanting for so long. Maybe she's what kills me. Directly or indirectly. Maybe she'll be what sets me free. Water's up to my eyes. Choking on this fake future I know I'll never have. Why'd I have to start dreaming again? Why can't I get passed this? Why can't I find a place I belong?

Why don't I just kill myself


Humanity's Divide

This is going to be a weird one. Figured I'd throw that out there to start since while "weird" isn't necessarily an uncommon occurrence for these particular posts, this one is maybe a bit more out there. That out of the way, here we go.

I'm a people watcher. Of sorts. Or perhaps it would be be more accurate to say I'm an equal opportunity observer. Of sorts. I find myself lingering on the world, or aspects of, around me whenever my surroundings are less than stationary. I constantly find my gaze being drawn to anything that obstructs the general flow of my space. What I mean by "my space" however is more or less the area in which my senses are able to perceive. Of course I include all senses in that because the limits of one or two are trivial compared to what can be derived once supplemented by the full contingent. Of course. So what does that matter? Right? What does that have to do with anything? Nothing more than an observation of humanity. Of human beings. Of Interactions specifically. And what I found will shock you. Not really though. Probably. We'll see. Well, you'll see. Yeah.

I'm pretty crap when it comes to dealing with people. Obviously I can do it. I'm just shy of a sociopath so figuring out the basic intricacies of human interaction was something I made a priority. If only to avoid the awkward stares and questions that come along with the apparent lack of feeling. But here I am in my ripe old age rethinking things. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say I'm revisiting an idea I once had as a teenager. A premise. How much of human interaction is actual connection and how much is luck?

In all my time and accounting for every person I've ever had contact with, I'm come to realize just how much has been "Lost in Translation" over the years. In hindsight of course. This is from my perspective, so obviously there is some skew but then to draw back to the introduction of my proclivities, I began to look outward. It's like with vision. People use their personal experiences to fill in the blanks. It makes me wonder just how, if at all, human beings connect. It makes war sensical. The idea of peace laughable. It leaves me wondering if anyone is ever truly listening. It makes me wonder what kind of people do hear and comprehend. What it takes to get to that point with someone. Whether a person like that is truly human or not. Or maybe whether I'm just the outlier. Maybe there are more like me than I give credit. Perhaps we're all sociopaths, one step behind.

Is this a problem? No more than any other. The world continues to turn regardless so it may very well not matter until doomsday weapons become the norm. May not even by then. Time will tell. Always does. Yeah, this one's a weird one.


What I Should Have Sent

Origin Date:  19JAN17

Medium:  Email (Draft)


I wasn't expecting to be doing this. In fact if I was completely honest with myself, I thought I'd gotten to a point. No. Sorry. I thought that things had gotten to a point where maybe. No. Sorry once more. I mean to say, a point where things absolutely had gotten to a point far past the point of no return. I've failed at a lot of things in my life. Even more things after I left New York those four years ago. I want to make jokes. I want to say how it's "kinda funny" that its been five years since we spoke. Something, anything to break the awkward of writing this but it wouldn't help. I don't think anything would help. And even if there were anything as far as hope would be concerned; hope for what? What am I hoping for? I'm still depressed. Surprise. I still feel like a burden to everyone. Most especially the people I care for. Especially to you but here I am. Doing something I feel to the fiber of my being to be the worst thing I could do. But I feel like garbage and I'm all alone. Not that I haven't these past few years/decades but I can't shake the fact that when you were in my life, at least there was some semblance of light in the dark. I wanted so badly to see you smile. To see you happy because you brought me the joy of living. The desire to keep going. Because I could commiserate with you. Because I never felt like I had to be "on" with you. I could just be myself and you were willing to accept that. I'm so sorry. It's too little, too late but I really hope you can believe me when I say it was for you. At least that's what I've told myself all these years. It was all for you. I cut myself off from the bright parts of my life so as to not darken them any further. I didn't then and even now still regret that I'm at this point but I miss you so much. I truly do. At what feels like another end of another pitiful life I've come to lead, I feel so much more empty and am clinging to the only things. No. The only person I felt good about. I remember the good. I remember the bad. I remember feeling like trash when I was with you. I remember the anger I felt after the birthday party at the cold winter night. I saw the ugly that was me. I wanted to be with you in a way you didn't. I resented the fact that there couldn't be more but at the same time I knew that feeling was misplaced. That's the essence of what made me realize I needed to leave. I had to go away from you. From all of you. My dearest friends. My family. No. The ones who meant more to me than family. I'm so messed up. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe it'll help because I know now for sure that I'm more broken than I've ever been. I can string together words anymore. I can't see the future anymore. I really just feel like I'm anything else than anything I thought I was. Anything I ever wanted to be. I'm just in such a dark place and I think this is my reaching out. I miss you. And I always avoided ever being this honest with you. I felt scared. Scared that the only person I felt free with would reject me. I felt like a tool being used by everyone else for everything else but you were different. I miss the marina. I still listen to the CD. I still and will always feel like I left a piece of my heart with you. I'm just so sorry that I'm just so dumb. So, broken. Honestly, I've contemplated any number of different excuses over the years that I could attempt to contact you with. But here I am. At my highest low. A shell. I miss you. I loved what you were to me. To the me that could bring you any sort of happiness if there ever was such a me. I don't know that you could be anything to me now. Because even after writing all this. Even after every word, you'll never see this. I'll never send this in earnest. I want you to be well. I want to believe you're doing great things and found happiness and have someone who makes you feel great and see within you that bright glow of excellence you exude. You were perfection to me. Completely unattainable. I wanted to remark how at least there's one joke in this mess but I realize that at best you wouldn't get it and at worst you'd take it the wrong way. I've fallen so out of touch that I don't know anymore. This is my world of regret. Please be well. Please be at peace. You deserve happiness. I'll never stop believing that. Sorry, I couldn't even just end with the joke.


Can't Seem to Stop Trying to Kill Myself

It's that time again gents. Here I am bearing all manner of gifts but only for the ones that seek me out. Guess I'm pretty selfish like that. Maybe instead of "What's Up" it should be "Selfish." Too bad it just doesn't quite have the same ring to it. So what's new right? That's what this is. I'm pretty low. Might even have to change my name. Nothing really new there. But just sending it out. Oh, wait. My bad. "The Secret" is that what I put out is what I will get back. Crap I must be putting out disgust and hatred. Maybe that's why I'm so low. Maybe that's why I keep making these self-destructive decisions again and again. Or maybe I'm just crazy. Well, definitely I'm crazy but yeah. Maybe in more ways than the one.

I'm just so tired again. Or maybe not again. Maybe I just never felt rested and have just gotten accustomed to the weight. The burden. Why can't I shake the fire and brimstone future whenever I gaze outward? Why am I doing this now? Putting this out here now? Oh, yeah. Time capsule. This is my suicide letter. This whole blog. I shouldn't be so presumptuous. I'd have to succeed at something I've dreamt about first before I could start acting as though I know anything. This is so depressing. Why do I even bother? Five more years. Let's see how it all goes.

Thanks for listening. To the voice in yourself that read these words. Take care. Go with peace and love and happiness and kindness and the desire to live. Sure, the desire to live. Alright secret, hit me back all kinds of 180. Late...


You Know the Easiest Way To Tell You're In a Simulation?

Really had to debate this one. Rolling around my head I keep throwing back and forth the premise of what this was going to be. Whether it be a "Mainstay" or a "2.0." Obviously we're diving into a lot of opinion/perception but the subject matter is clearly, next plateau. You can see from the category though where the coin eventually landed. SO, without further adieu, here we go.

You know the easiest way to tell you're in a simulation? It gets harder to tell. Lately, and I use that word loosely, more and more people have been subscribing to the idea that we all may in fact be in a "simulation." Honestly, whether we are or aren't, in the long run it likely wouldn't matter unless said simulation was for some sort of nefarious reasoning. Even then though, it likely wouldn't affect the world we've come to know in the slightest. At least not in a perceivable way anyway. So sure we can just jump to the conclusion that if it doesn't matter there's no point to think about it but for us neurotic types... oh boy. "Hold my beer."

So let's look at what I see and see how it stacks up. The point is that if I'm right, these words will never see the light of day. And if I'm wrong, these words will gain traction in some way shape or form since they'll only serve to reinforce the original premise. Of course there's the very real possibility of the reverse but why jump even further down rabbit holes? Where were we? Oh, right. "It's harder to tell."

The easiest way to tell you're in a simulation is to look for the edges. Find the ends and you'll find a world too small for the magnitude of realistic proportions. Not to go full "Matrix" but deja vu much? When everything seems to keep popping up almost as if the world feels smaller... yeah, it probably is. You know the best public announcement that's come out as of late? The great AI debate. Bots, bots, bots. It's perfect really. Rogue AI, always watching, always listening and then of course you'll see things you're casually talking about or admiring everywhere you look. It's just a ploy by advertisers using every underhanded trick in the book to make the most in this seemingly never ending age of consumerism right? OR it's just enough to make the limitations, the edges of the "world," look just that much further away.

Alright, that was my piece in all this. Just an idea I was throwing around because I refused to do any actual work on my movie pitch idea. That and as of the first of January my notifications have been going crazy. So many bots seemed to all go online at once. Not that I don't appreciate a follow... you know what? Scratch that. I definitely don't appreciate the follow or all the junk mail. And that's a tangent for somewhere else. Anyway, finding the reference links for this is going to suuuuck. And with that one elongated word I guess I'll have to change the category. Anyway, guess a little push to the right then for this baby.

Hope you enjoyed the read, have a good one!


03MAR17 II

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrected in Parentheses


Still can't seem to feel anything. Looking at the surrounding it takes such extremes to pursue thoughts the(that) can be connected with. Sad. Depressing. Dark. Murky. Nothing. Is this indifference? Is this the ID? The surface is deeper when left autonomous. So gen(then) perhaps it's all fake. Perhaps it's the turth that I've been broken away from for so long. I feel, nothing. Minor annoyance. What does the other exist for? How do we fix (it) if there is anything (t)hat such could even apply? Burn. Drown. Ghastly ways swirl as we sink. As I sink. Alone together alone. Still nothing for me. Diatribes from him. It? Show we the way.


Just Like That

Turns out I'm pretty trash still. Every time I use that name I feel nauseous. That won't make much sense but it's not as though that matters. Wednesdays are for me. Everything else can be for the world. Just at least let me keep this.

I'm writing here because if I'm being honest, it's not as though anyone would read this. And, if anyone were actually to do so, it's not as though it'd be anyone who'd understand just what any of it means. I write here because I find myself in a position where I no longer feel free to speak. I'm back to a world without friends.

Wow, that was the hardest sentence I've had to complete in a pretty long time. I guess coming to realizations'll do that to you. Last week, "I met someone." This week I realized how naive I was. Today really. Pretty clear I'm insane since I keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Maybe next time I won't delude myself into thinking it something more by calling it "hope."

"I met someone." What a fool I was and still am. The person I met was what I was looking for, searching for, begging for even, for just so many years. A decade plus! Someone who didn't need me, didn't need my help, didn't need my support. Someone who would be my confidant. Someone I could be truly free with. Someone I could share my all with. Someone I could love? I guess it would always have to go to that if I'm doing that level of sharing. Of course this person can give me all that except the last. A person who doesn't need me, but wants me. Sharing their life. Duly noted brain. Let's see if we can get it right next time.

I haven't felt this low in a while. It's slightly above my lowest which such be evident by the fact that I'm still creating but definitely not anywhere near as happy as I once was. Just last week. This may just be the worst of it. Here's hoping. Probably not going to help that I'm having wicked flashbacks of the last time I was in this situation. Probably definitely. Next year's going to be a stacked week of updates. That'll make more sense next week.

I don't feel like sharing with this person anymore. I don't feel like letting them in any further because I'll just get more and more attached. Attached and desiring a future they've already debunked. I'm a pretty trash friend. What do you know? Full circle.



Medium:  iPhone Notes


Need to find better hobbies. Need to find better ways to cope. Looking for a future by drowning in the past has harmed nothing but the ire of all who'd bare witness. We are not a thing that can exist. That should exist. Yet here we are. Here I am. An empty shell hosting two entities at war with reality. One that shuns the light of failure while the other basks in the dark ever fearful of open eyes. Such a shame. Such is the fool. Such is the role we play in this place. This wonderful sorrow.


January Fifth

I met someone.



Medium:  iPhone Notes




How Sad Must My Life Be That It's Funny To Me That I May Be Trying To Marry My Cousin

Been for sure a long while since I've done one of these. Hell, been a long while since I've posted more than once a week. It's a lot worse on this end considering Wednesday content tends to be the be the least demanding. It's literally just me spewing my thoughts and where I'm at. Guess I'm still reeling from the fact that a large part of me still doesn't want to write ever again. A large part of me feels abandoned. A large part of me has ever reason to just let this place die. Too bad that part isn't at the wheel right now huh? Or good thing? Never mind.

I've been gone a while. Much longer than the posting would have you believe. Still technically not here but these are more for me than an audience so what does it matter the level of esoteric right? Prostitutes comes to mind. I have been writing a little here or there but none of it feels quite complete. Hell, I even wrote a rap song. It's ridiculous and I love it for that very reason. Will have to post it someday. Maybe it'll be a throwback. I guess I'm glossing over the fact that I've found some inspiration again. Kind of brings us back to the title of this little piece. My "cousin." That's the joke. I hope. I truly, truly do.

This person helped me break a wall that I've rested my head against for so long that I honestly wasn't sure I'd ever get past. Now what though. Can I just jump back into all the projects I've been avoiding all this time? Seems like the only thing I can do that'd make any kind of sense. Really excited about the dude who wakes up with jerk off powers idea. Came up with that like three years ago now, if not four? Oh, yeah, that's another thing. I'm writing scripts now? Like actual scripts. I want to hold on to this person. We've gotten so close and now I fear being broken again. Broken to the point where I lose my words again. Don't know if I'd ever be able to come back after a second break like that. And wow, I'm just so filled with regret. People I feel deserve apologies for having to deal with me and my mania. I'm just so sorry but I don't know that I'll ever have the right to just jump back into their lives to say so. You see, as much as I stress about it, I also don't want to give them the wrong impression. I can't be the person I used to be. Not anymore. Not if I ever hope to reach a future I'm alive in.

So much work to do. Need to get the cobwebs out and dust off this old brain of mine. The grind never leaves but it sure as hell gets hard to see when one's eyes are blacked by prolonged nonuse. Look at me talking about a future again. You'd think I were a real person. That might be kind of nice. Better than the fire and brimstone I keep gleaming when I normally look ahead.

I can't promise there'll be regular content here. I can't even promise I'll do better. Just, welcome and thanks for joining the ride. I guess that'll be it for now.

I already know. I just also know no matter what move I make next, the outcome won't change. It's not over, but for now, I just have to let it take me. It's too early to make a last stand.

And so on this path I continue to walk.


I Didn't Realize How Disenfranchised Women Felt Until Wonder Woman Came Out

I feel compelled to start this off with admiration for the movie so that I may avoid some of the slings and arrows--read as misogynist declarations--but let's be honest, no matter what I type with a title like that, people will come into this with whatever they want regardless of the content. That said, the title really sums it up for me. The biggest regret I have however is the fact that I couldn't muster the enthusiasm to put this out sooner. Probably could be said for any number of ideas that I've let fall by the wayside but let's deal with that bridge yada yada crossing it yada yada.

Wonder Woman smashed records. Critics lauded it as a refreshing change in this age of super hero movies. Some people calling it revolutionary and others taking it further saying it was a greater than any super hero film of the last few years. Or so I wanted to exploit but as of my research currently, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that those sentiments have since largely been drowned out by reason. I suppose I did just end up sitting on this for entirely too long but at this point I'd still much rather get the thoughts out and into the ether than to just abandon even more content. So, as I was going to lean into, I watch super hero movies. Wonder Woman wasn't a bad film. It wasn't perfect though. No super hero movie is. But before I dive further, let me exclaim, the goal of this isn't to tear it down. Plain and simple, I'm just going over the effects I've come to witness after the inception of the first female super hero to grace the silver screen. At least in terms of proper super hero as opposed to your Alice's (Resident evil), Ultraviolet's, ...scratch it let me just say as opposed to the characters Milla Jovovich or Charlize Theoron have taken up. I'm oversimplifying for comedy sake so bear with me. The point is, super powered women aren't a new concept. Not even on the silver screen.

But what makes Wonder Woman stand out? Outside of the fact the Warner Brothers/DC have been putting out less than stellar showings in terms of live actions adaptations to their comic book properties or the fact that Wonder Woman is the first top tier female super hero from a comic book to have a solo movie? (Elecktra and Catwoman are negligible for numerous reasons) Simple. This movie made bank. Rightfully so, it was a good movie. But was it a great movie? Was it unique and different? Honestly, no. If it wasn't Wonder Woman and was just some other dude with super powers would it have done as well? Of course not. But that's the litmus test. Let's not kid ourselves into believing otherwise. So if something so dependent on a thing as the sex of the lead made such waves, yada yada, we're back at the title of this piece.

The movie had a simple story. The ending [SPOILERS] amounted to an old fashioned big bad fight with the main character all of a sudden unlocking some hidden power unbeknownst to them to go OP and save the day. [/END SPOILERS] Where's the innovation? Where's the revolutionary? What kind of world do we live in where the dialogue seems to gloss over something so blatant? This current era of "political correctness" apparently. I use quotations because it's a joke. So much of this political climate as of now is a joke. Not the ha ha variety I assure you though. Just, the kind that makes one really see what it really means to have privilege in this day and age, or on the flip side, what it truly means to be less than.

The loudest outcries of hate, so long as they fit the agenda are gaslit while rationale is snuffed out. Am I denying the dark things that transpire in this world? Hell no. But it is laughable to see so many giving praise for such minute victories. U.S. citizens talking about taking down the patriarchy in this county as if such a thing exists here. But that just brings up the question of "why" more than anything else. The numbers don't lie. People went out in droves to see Wonder Woman. It was lauded as masterpiece by many even though it's plot and conclusion were about as straightforward as it gets. So why? Why do the most privileged people feel so disenfranchised? Why is the narrative so focused on women being treated poorly when the truth is that everyone is treated like trash? That's what I find myself trying to figure out. That's what I find is the real question in this whole mess of a year, decade, lifetime. Why, after all this time, are people still so egotistical?

Do I fall into that? Sure, of course. I'm promoting my ideals above others so I'm just as guilty. What incentive is there to listen then, right? None. There never was one and never will be one. This blog is not for that purpose. This place is for the curious. For them I say welcome. For those who enjoy puzzles and noticing subtleties. Again, welcome. But I digress. I've done some traveling; lived in other countries for some time and would like to say I've garnered at least a bit of a broader view of what this world has to offer. It's honestly with that knowledge that I find myself here trying to push out this piece. I love my country. I've fought for my country. I've sacrificed for my country. But America, Mr. Uncle Sam even, why do you your loudest outcriers feel so downtrodden? Why are so many women blanketed by feelings of weakness and oppression in this country? Why are so many men virtue signaling because of it? This really would've had much more of an impact prior to the #metoo movement but again, lethargy got the best of me. Either way, Are we just weaker? Are we as a nation just that frail? Disjointed even? Was the last time we all came together the last terror attack? The last World War? And if it were does that mean it takes something like that to get the people to snap out of this boo hoo me mindset and into the lift your fellow human beings up mentality? For the love of all that's good and holy doesn't anyone else out here see how Watchmen-esque things are starting to skew? Is it really going to take a Dr. Manhattan/Alien invasion for us all to get on the same page and stop blaming this or that? Do human being really need an adversary just to realize everyone's the same? Hasn't the same science that leaders pervert to make weapons already established that unifier long ago?

Atoms for anyone who's not quite with the rest of us yet. Just this whole world baffles me at times with how simple things appear to become so complicated. Tower of Babel really does seem to lean credence with all the lunacy of this era. All so connected but so short-sided all the same. Why are so few willing to expand beyond these immaturities that limit the development of the species? I may never know, but I suppose it's better for me. Keeps me stocked with plenty to write about. Anyway, thanks for reading. Hard to type that without laughing to myself. Till next we meet again.

Comment and be heard.