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Entries in THT (59)

Thursday
Aug162018

Garbadge

Source: tumblr

16OCT12

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.

Thursday
Aug092018

For Another Last Time

Source: tumblr

15OCT12

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.

Thursday
Aug022018

A While

Source: tumblr

11OCT12

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.

Thursday
Jul262018

Still So Low

Source: tumblr

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.

Thursday
Jul192018

#AFG

Source: tumblr

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.

Thursday
Jul122018

"I'm in the dirt and in the gutter...

Source: tumblr

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?

Thursday
Jul052018

Leaving Soon

Source: tumblr

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.

Thursday
Jun282018

#IMDOINGITWRONG (13SEP12)

Source: tumblr

Close...

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

Thursday
Jun212018

#ITDOESNTGETBETTER (13SEP12)

Source: tumblr

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.

Thursday
Jun142018

#IMDOINGITWRONG (13SPE12)

Source: tumblr

Order

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.

Thursday
Jun072018

#ITDOESNTGETBETTER (12SEP12)

Source: tumblr

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.

Thursday
May312018

#IMDOINGITWRONG (11SEP12)

Source: tumblr

Sure. Lets Give it a Go

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

Thursday
May242018

#ITDOESNTGETBETTER (11SEP12)

Source: tumblr

Untitled

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

Thursday
May172018

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

Medium: tumblr

Content:

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

Thursday
May102018

I'm a Sh*tty Son (11SEP12 IV)

Medium: tumblr

Corrections in Brackets

Content:

Honestly this isn’t a particularly new thought bubble. I just hadn’t gotten around to popping [it] over my keyboard I guess. It might be strange, I know it feels so to admit it publicly, but I’ve never thought about my father when referencing the fact that I am a “son.” His death in my infancy precluded me from ever truly knowing him so it had never dawned on me that I represent him in that sort of fashion. I have had plenty of friends with fathers and even then it had never really hit me until recently. I am my father’s son.

Even now, a week or two after from struggling with the idea, it still sounds so off to me. Why is it so difficult to integrate such a fact? I just don’t get it. Even though I have all the respect in the world for the man, it just isn’t clicking.

I’m a sh*tty son.

Thursday
May032018

11SEP12 III

Medium: tumblr

Content:

I’m not sure if it was the text message or the pain in my knee, but I’m awake now. My sheets stained in blood, I gave what would pass for my all this morning and even though I finally accomplished something, I still feel empty. Like I’ve done nothing at all. Like it doesn’t really count or matter for anything which, to be fair, in the the longest of runs, is probably truer than any sensation of existence I’ve felt these last 11 hours.

Thursday
Apr262018

11SEP12 II

Medium: tumblr

Corrections in Brackets

Content:

“Greater minds than mine, I’m sure.” I actually used that in an email. The email I sent the female that started this whole de[s]cent into…mainstream(?), I guess. It’s not like I’m a “hipster” so what do I give a crap about whether this is “mainstream” or not. Yes, I’m quoting myself.

I wrote those words and knew instantly where they’d serve the most purpose. It was to describe how my speculations toward her reasoning regarding the sudden temperament shift were infantile. I was honest. I really don’t understand the why and was honest about it.

I doubt I’ll get a reply back. Or closure. Turns out it doesn’t get better, unless you’re gay.

Thursday
Apr192018

11SEP12

Medium: tumblr

Content:

I wonder if you can channel the living? I had recently gotten into the Harmontown podcast and’ve found myself lost in the inflections of someone far my intellectual superior. They say the most sincerest form of flattery is imitation but what’s the point if I’m not actually any better for it.

I’m just even harder to stand now because I’ve become twice as smug, pompous, and liable to call someone an idiot.

Thursday
Apr122018

00Alpha 11SEP12

Medium: tumblr

Content:

I started this…tumblr, for two reasons. The first being because I received an email a number of months ago from an unknown recommending it, [no link to anything or attachments for that matter, so it was hardly standard spam] and the second being because I was just given the “cold” shoulder by a female I thought I had fostered an amicable relationship with. [via dating website but still]

So, just like that, I gave in and joined the masses. This isn’t going to be great. This isn’t going to be fun. This is just going to be my life…so perhaps it just isn’t going to be those things for me…

Thursday
Apr052018

Hatred and Me: Reasons I'm an Idiot 30MAY13

Medium:  tumblr

Content:

I’m the second luckiest person in the world. Honestly that doesn’t mean much. It’s like being everyone else. Faceless, a silhouette. But only compared to the first. So what does the first have that I don’t? That’s easy.

Everything I want.

I’ve lived a relatively short life. But in that short time I’ve seen and experienced enough to make me dread getting out of bed in the morning. I’ve faced pain, sorrow, strife, depression and in a lot of cases they weren’t even mine. As a kid I knew exactly what I was. What I could be. And I mean that. It’s why I put into place a foundation that would serve to cause me endless amounts of displeasure and effectively hinder my social development well into adulthood. Never could suffer the easy route for some reason. I guess if you hear about nothing worth having coming easy you start forgetting that results aren’t always immediate. The good, the bad, it’s all cumulative. And developments are amplified therein by all the choices and decisions that preceded them, constantly ever evolving until reaching that elusive peak.

So what’s wrong with this if not that I must not truly want it? Why is it whenever I desire more than anything to ask the one question that may very well grant me all I could ever hope for, it becomes a matter of destroying lives? Maybe because that’s what’s at stake. Maybe because that’s very much what I’d be asking, to sacrifice others for my own happiness. She asked me if I’d ever ventured into erotic fiction…

It isn’t a particularly notable day. The sky is blue and the ground is dirty. Amidst a foreign land stands a foreign body. A visitor. Humble, unassuming, but quite nefarious. It only takes a moment’s glance at the clouds traversing the skies above before he begins his own journey.

She’s just getting out of the building. It’s an uncharacteristically long day. But all days she has to be in that office are long. She makes her way along her usual route. Soon she’ll be home and doing what she could use the most after such a day. Absolutely nothing. A cloud catches her attention. Unlike the masses, she wasn’t much for avoiding the heavens. And in another moment she’s back on her way.

He’s lost. Directionless. It all starts to hit him at once. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe he should just turn back now and pretend as if the entire fiasco never took place. He mulls it over, his legs still taking him ever forward. He should’ve spent more time paying attention. Someone bumps into him. Hard. He falls back catching the ground by his rear. Whoever did it will get a piece of his mind as soon as he makes it back to his feet. That was the plan at least. But as he brings his eyes from the dirt he locks in on the reason he was even there to begin with. Clearly it’s a sign he tells himself. Now, just to make sure it isn’t wasted.

She’s waiting as a cab pulls up. Her routine. She opens the door but hesitates briefly before entering. Just the strangest feeling overtakes her. She stops to check her phone. She quickly dismisses it as nothing and gets in. The vehicle pulls off slowly into traffic. She’s just this much closer to her freedom.

He watches as she takes off. He’s stuck, waiting, trying to cross the street. His trip is seeming more and more like a fool’s errand. He’s about to lose possibly his only opportunity. But, he didn’t come all this way just to fail. Especially not when so close already. He hails a vehicle and before long one conveniently pulls up. He hops in and immediately exclaims, “follow that taxi!” The driver’s response is beyond him. A foreigner in a foreign land. His opportunity continues to dwindle. “Never mind,” he grunts at the driver in frustration quickly making his way out of the vehicle. Guess there’s the old fashion way he thinks.

It’s a slow drive. Today of all days being what it was, the roads are full of plenty of other homeward bound. Frustration begins to work its way in. She has a mind to just get out and walk. It is late however. It’d be irresponsible. The cab is forced to take a detour which passes by a familiar place. On a whim she decides to get out there. It’s Friday. She has till Monday before she need worry about work again. Just going to pick up a snack she tells herself. It won’t take long at all.

He makes his way up the street and identifies her cab. It’s stopped but not in front of what of what looks like a house. Doubt sets in. Perhaps he’s mistaken. Maybe he was chasing the wrong one this whole time. Would this really be it for his little adventure? He had to confirm. He made his way over to the car as the door to the shop opens. It’s her. And before he knew it, their eyes were locked.

She sees him. She drops her snack. She’s dreaming. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be him. She’s speechless. She’s lost in her own mind. The sound of her overzealous driver’s horn brings her back. She picks up her things and makes her way to the curb. She watches him make his way to her. She’s scared. She’s excited. She’s nervous. She’s mad. He’s standing before her. Sweating, a little out of breath. He puts his arms around her. She doesn’t resist. He whispers, “I’m here for you as promised my love.” She’s happy.

It’s a roller coaster. He’s just following her lead. Nothing seems as foreign anymore. Not as long as she’s with him. Her scent fills his nostrils. He’s taken by her beauty. His heart is a flutter. He doesn’t know where they’re going. He doesn’t care. Time had stood still. It could’ve been 20 seconds, it could have been 20 minutes. He places his hand on hers just to watch her pull it away. He moves in closer to say something as she stops, turns toward him, and places two fingers over his lips. “Not yet.” The words slide out past her luscious red lips. He’s not sure what to feel more. Love or passion.

She leads him up to a reception desk. She’s pure business. This is nothing, rudimentary. After completing the transaction she leads him along. She can feel him. She can feel what just being in his presence is doing to her. She isn’t happy with the surprise but it couldn’t have come at a better time. The night’s about to be a long as the day. Only this time it’ll be in the service of what she wants to do as opposed to has to do. It’s a quiet walk. She knows he has questions, but they’ve talked long enough. This night, there would be an extreme lack of it. They make it to a room. She turns to face him. His arms make their way around her. She hugs him back. Her eyes begin to tear up. “We should go in” travels to her ears. That voice, even better in person she thinks. It was going to be a sleepless night.

The room barely gets a glance as they make their way straight to the bed. Both know exactly what’s going to happen. They’d been dreaming of it, longing for it, craving it almost since the very beginning. She’s the love of his life, he thinks to himself stripping down to his shorts. He makes me happier than anyone ever has, she thinks to herself as she removes her work attire. They make their way under the sheets. The bed is huge and soft. There are pillows all around them. The sheets, overly festive. It’s perfect for what they have planned. He can see worry in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he posits. “Nothing, it’s just, do you…have it?” The words timidly escape. “Of course,” he reassures her. Everything truly is perfect, their union has been long overdue.

“I’m ready,” she tells him. “I love you,” he replies. “I love you too,” she adds before the both cuddle in closer together. He places his arm around her. She looks him in the eyes. His happiness is apparent. He kisses her forehead before announcing, “Here goes.” And just like that, the TV comes on and it’s the show that started it all. Season one. It’s going to be a marathon night. They both smile. It’s going to be a long night. Certainly the very best kind.