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Entries in THT (68)

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.

Thursday
Mar292018

03JUNE17 III

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Corrections in Brackets

Content:

His name was ML. It was until his death that the true birth of Morribb Lehrer would come about. But it wouldn't be until the next death that Mael Lehrer would awaken. Perpetually trapped in limbo. That was the life of the lost black sheep. The pain and suffering were the only friends he couldn't rid himself of. The darkness drew him in and to divvy out what little substance was left of himself was all he had. To cry and scream and bleed; to surrender it all to the page was the best he could do to expunge it from his insides. He stopped wanting to feel. He stopped wanting to be a hero. He stopped moving forward and that meant insanity for certain. He was alone but shackled to the broken system that propagated the world before him. It was the most special kind of Hell. He just wanted to be safe. But he lost sight of himself and before he knew it the years had piled on. He had gotten old and his life had evaporated. There was nothing but barren s[urr]ounding his very being. His soul. It took entirely too long but it had to happen eventually. He would do what was necessary. He would say goodbye.

Thursday
Mar222018

03JUNE17 II

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Content:

Find me alone in the crowd. Find me looking for hope in all the worst places. I'm far from a home I've never known, along a path with an end beyond conception. At some point I'll look back and find myself stuck again. Forward seems so far away.

Thursday
Mar152018

03JUNE17

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Content:

Why don't I feel anything? Is this the role or is it me? What am I doing here other than wallowing in my own pit of, of, what is this? I don't know what I feel right now. It's not depression. It should be but it doesn't feel heavy. Where are the feelings. Why can't I find them? She said I was passionate but then why am I having so much trouble trying to find the part of myself that is worth genuine connection? Need to stop the manipulator. Or is that all I am now? Am I so lost that I'll never be able to be free? Who am I even asking these things right now? I know my place now. That's what I feel. Finally I feel something. Embarrassment and shame. There's the place I exist within. I played the game and lost. The world owes me nothing but will take everything I have and more. Burn it all. Get rid of every last bit. Guardian is all I'm allowed to be anymore. It's the only thing this pain is good for. Stop retreating. I am acting like a child. I've been spurned once more. Even money isn't enough to bypass my social ineptitude. But I knew this already. I need to stop turning away. Embrace this feeling. Let it hurt. Let it cut deep and let it all bleed out. Free the pain and be freed by it. Have to hold on. Feel it fading already. I want it. I want something. Anything. But I've tired of this game. Hurt me, wound me, break me, but unless your final answer is death STOP WASTING MY TIME. I wonder what my voice sounds like now. I wonder what I am after all this. Have I changed at all, I suppose I'll find out somewhen else. Call me something else. Let me be anything else. Or will pain eventually bring me to the truth. Saint Sage Guardian or Deadlamb Wonderland. I can be anything but me. Anything but free.

Thursday
Mar082018

02JUNE17 II

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Content:

Bored now. Strip clubs probably aren't the best place to practice social norms. Trying to figure out what I want is difficult while pretending to care. Have to suppress the manipulator. Right? This is too difficult. And I hate smoke. I feel like I don't belong again. Here's to the home of my dreams. May I find my way to you some day.

Thursday
Mar012018

02JUN17

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Content:

Some good, some bad. I find myself in the same place I've always been. The dark. The murky. I am not "I" but just an "it." A denizen of the murky. Not quite where I belong but far too tainted to be allowed the grace of the light. I am just anger and pain now. And lies. I'm something far worse. I don't even have the conviction to give into the few emotions I feel left. This is the danger. The joke. The last time I can use such before it becomes a crutch. I've forgotten how people do it. I've forgotten how to be one of them. To suffer their intrusion on my existence. Am I supposed to feel something now? Am I supposed to know what I know and pretend, anything else? The dark feels like a suit. A nice shade to hide within. Is this the first level of hell or am I already swallowed whole? I forgot why I started this in the first place. For even the ash to burn. I can't have anything left or I'll be doomed to repeat this misery forever. All or nothing if I'm to ever be free.

I'm just so good at being alone. Especially when I want anything but.

Thursday
Feb222018

04MAR17 II

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Brackets

Content:

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.

Thursday
Feb152018

Sky Williams 28MAY17

Medium:  iPhone Notes/Tweet

Context:  Corrections in Brackets

Content:

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?

Thursday
Feb082018

04MAR17

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Parentheses

Content:

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

Thursday
Feb012018

03MAR17 IV

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Parentheses

Content:

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.

Thursday
Jan252018

03MAR17 III

Medium:  iPhone Notes

Context:  Corrections in Parentheses

Content:

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.

Thursday
Jan182018

What I Should Have Sent

Origin Date:  19JAN17

Medium:  Email (Draft)

Content:

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.