Just in time for Daylight Savings:

Make me feel sexy, cos I don't right now.

30 March 2004 at 12:39 am | 1 Comment »
shutterbugs

So we talked, and what the agreement the three of us came to was that she had April to prove herself. If by the end of the month bills were still unpaid and rent was still due to the landlord, that was it. She was out. Willingly or unwillingly. It's not entirely what I wanted, since I was out for blood and wanted her gone completely without any further debate, but I'm willing to accept this, provided that she lives up to the terms of this contract.

If she does, then we're all good and I can begin to rebuild the respect for her that she took a large weapon to. If not, she's gone and my point stands proven, and if nothing else I think I've demonstrated that I oh so enjoy having my point proven.

29 March 2004 at 7:52 pm | No Comments »
the daily things

I will never, ever, ever live with a girl ever again.

Jake and I are preparing ourselves to give our other roommate her 30 days notice. I can't take it anymore, she's dangerously irresponsible, and she's cost me a shitload of money, and she's very nearly cost us our apartment due to her inability to pay her portion of the rent. We got into another fight again yesterday when the landlord dropped by to pick up the remainder of the rent she owed him– when I was very much under the impression that, even though it was still two weeks late, she'd paid her rent a week ago. Apparently not, but she was out of town and nowhere to be found, so I was fuming. I've had enough. Three months of this, three months where she's paid her rent in the middle of the month when it's due on the first, three months of bounced cheques, three months of late bills, three months of services nearly cancelled if I hadn't paid everything off myself at the beginning of the month.

I'm over it.

I went out to Long Island with C.S. I took the LIRR and everything, it felt nice to be on an above-ground train for an hour. I hadn't done that in a while, nor had I seen C.S.' house since…. Christmas, I think. Thereabouts.

It brightened my spirits a little bit. I'm also wanting to go back to New Orleans more passionately than I've ever expected myself to feel. I miss it, which I never thought I'd say.

I've distanced myself from a lot of people and a lot of places over the years. I've made and lost, sometimes violently and destructively, many friendships. I've burned as many bridges as I think I've built and crossed. For a while that worked for me; for a while I was happy being solitary. For a while I was sure that's all I needed.

I don't know if I am anymore. I think maybe I'm ready to start pushing my fingers up and out and feel for something more than that. I don't know, because just as soon as I think I brush up against something tactile, I remember why I've closed myself off. I remember the reasons why I shut myself out against those things and those emotions.

And it makes me scared. It makes me question a lot of things.

And then I'm thinking about Kent a lot again, now. I guess I always am, no matter what I'm always comparing things against the control of my experiences in those two years.

I bought a keyboard a week ago. I've started playing and writing music again. It's been difficult, because I'm worryingly out of practice (which is what happens when you're homeless for eight months and don't have anything to play on), so I've forgotten a lot of my old songs, and only remember pieces of others, and all along I'm having to fight against the frustration to stop playing.

But I've started working on my cd again, the one I've thrown around in theory for a long time now. It's becoming something, if only in my head. But a concept is coming together, and I'm getting excited about it.

the caution tape, as it's been called for some time now, is gonna work this way. From its first song, which as of right now is this one (though I dunno if the lyrics will quite stand that way), it's going to be about Kent. I think this is the only way I can really move beyond him. He loved my music, he loved me as best as he could. I can't think of a better way to give him both a tribute and bury him once and for all.

I have a lot of songs that I'm finishing or still writing, and I'm going to sequence them in a specific order. It's going to begin with his loss, working up through all the different points of grief until, if it works how I hope/expect it to, and assuming that the experience will be as cathartic as I think, acceptance. We'll see.

Ofcourse it's not going to be just about him, because in the three years since he's left my life a whole tapestry of other people have woven themselves in and out and around, so that will be there as well, and as a piece of art I can't expect it to be relateable if it's just about me, but I think it's coming well. I only have about six songs anywhere near what I could call a song, but I'm happy.

Mojo's coming on home, I'm feeling creative again. Now I just have to slice off the boil of my third roommate and once again go through the annoyances of getting a new one, and all will be stable in my universe.

Oh, and go buy his cd, cos I vicarously know him, and he's good!

29 March 2004 at 3:20 pm | No Comments »
the daily things

I am feeling discontented with my adulthood. This is also part of the cycle. Now that things are stable, my heart longs for those times when even though I was terrified beyond ass, there was still a sense of adventure to the terror.

But no, not now. Now I'm an office-assistant.

I want to go out and fly a kite again. I haven't done that in forever. I never thought I'd find myself saying this, but I think I need to get away from New York for a little while. I always would blink and shake my head at people who said that, cos I can't imagine ever wanting to leave, but now I do. If only for a day, I think civilisation is grating on my nerves and needs to be left behind.

I also fear my creativity has left me behind. I want it to come back. I want to create things. I haven't, in so long.

26 March 2004 at 1:03 pm | No Comments »
introspection

In retrospect, I can trace it back a long time:

1999 - Though this probably wasn't the first time, it was definitely the first I can remember being so clear and the beginning of the pattern that's followed me this long. I started NOCCA in the latter half of the year. By Octobre/Novembre I had met Kent, thus setting off the catalyst for what's happened ever since. By January/February a new millenium had begun, we'd moved into the new NOCCA building, and my life went onto cruise control until

2000 - August, Septembre, Octobre, I was in a new city, in a new school, finding myself or forcing myself, I don't know yet, doing things I'd never done, becoming a person I'd never been before. By January/February, so forth I was winding down, preparing to move back in with my parents after leaving them the year before. Cruise control again until

2001 - Octobre, Novembre etc, Kent was gone, new school, hating things, sadder than I'd ever been. I moved out in Novembre. Left my parents, had left school by January/February, moved into my first, own apartment by February/March, first job, etc. Things relatively stable until

2002 - Octobre, quit first job, started a new one, quit second job, left apartment, moved in with parents, moved to Florida, by January was in NYC, by March/April had a new job, coasting until

2003 - August/Septembre/Octobre, moved into my first real NYC apartment, quit job in Octobre, broke, jobless, scared, roommates move out in January, new ones move in, bills are in my name, apartment officially mine, start new job in January, and now back again to the point I was before.

There's obviously, clearly, a cycle here. The end of the year brings me incredible, turmoultous changes that seem to get bigger with each revolution. Or maybe they're not, they're just relative to where I am. The changes start in the end of the year, and by the beginning of the next one I'm either coming to terms with or finally dealing with those changes, and from March until Octobre I'm in a state of what could be viewed as calm, but I always see as stagnating. I mean, things still happen, but for the most part they aren't the life-changing events that I will be brought against later. They're day-to-day things, things that I only have to live with for a week, nothing that picks up the tracks I'm following and forces them down a new path.

This is the first time in the cycle I can remember sitting down to analyze it. I've noticed it before, yes, because always around my birthday I find myself becoming more spiritual and more introspective, trying new things, picking up interest in old ones. I find myself shaping myself more than I do the rest of the year. This is the first time I look ahead to Octobre, the fourth quarter of the year, and find myself thinking, "what will 2004 bring to this list?" Where will I be in January, February, and March of 2005? This is the first time I have a chance to plan ahead for it, instead of being washed along the current.

In retrospect, will I find that I did, or was I once again battered about with no idea where up is at?

24 March 2004 at 10:29 am | No Comments »
introspection

Am back, with a sore neck and a hump of aggrivation, but back. Ryan visited me this weekend, and it was great; we chatted about New Orleans, mutual friends he still speaks to who I hardly think about now, the differences between us. He's taller now, he noticed the worry-lines on my forehead.

We went to see Avenue Q last night, which was fucking funny. It was a mostly good weekend.

Mostly good because my female roommate has crossed the line between here and the Twisted Kingdom and is now certifiably insane. I'm going to shoot her, or kick her out. Haven't quite decided which yet.

But she's given me a headache that's lasted four days, and it's probably going to get worse tonight. I need my own place. I'm tired of living with people.

I bought a keyboard saturday though. Full-size, amazingly beautiful, it kicks ass. I can start doing music again. I didn't really get a lot of time to play on it with Ryan here, but I'm gonna make up for that tonight.

22 March 2004 at 12:46 pm | No Comments »
bitching

Okay. That episode of South Park was out of control. Beautiful, but out of control.

What saddens me is that most people won't realise why it was the fucking funniest one ever.

Poor Butters.

17 March 2004 at 10:34 pm | No Comments »
the daily things

I'm feeling a little bit down. A little bit sour, a little unsure, a little confused, a little impatient, a little expectant. It's always this way. It'll always be this way.

I sit and contemplate this place, which, as it's now "moved" back out into public territory, I guess warrants its own explaination.

It's funny what brought about the decision to make this accessible again. I was talking to someone last night, the person who the letter in the last entry was written to. And in mentioning his own writing, he said something so off-handed that it struck me with its simplicity.

There are individuals here who will read this who I don't want to have the privledge. There are people who for whatever reason have taken it upon themselves to aggrivate my friends in an effourt to aggrivate me.

Fuck you.

There are people who'll use what I write against me. There are people who will take advantage of the words here to attack and attempt to hurt me.

Fuck you.

It was a bad idea for me to move the site while I pretended this one was over. Because if I begin tailoring this and these words to one audience and denying another, it's not honest anymore. And if nothing else I've always held on to my integrity.

So, it's back. In its entirety. I won't even block you anymore. But your comments aren't welcome here. If you insist on reading, go ahead. But you're not welcome to respond. And really, you need to get over this obsession you've got going on, because it's completely unflattering. That's the last I'll ever direct at you.

14 March 2004 at 5:41 pm | No Comments »
bitching

I don't know why I'm gonna write this. I guess I just want to, because it's been building up in me ever since the first time I saw your photo online, which I guess I'll probably never know for sure if it's really you or not since my perceptions of your honesty have been shattered.

I want you to be pissed off, or something. have some sortof emotional response. you don't know me, so you don't know the profound, bizarre effect you have on me. had on me. you don't really do anything anymore.

I can read people like a see-through book lying beneath a magnifying glass. there's nothing of them I can't see in an instant– if they'll lie to me, if they won't, if they're going to get me into any level of trouble or adventure, if I'm going to remember them in a week, a month, twelve and a half years, if their smell is going to haunt me any time I hear it, or their voice, or just something they've said. this happens with everyone. they rarely ever know that I've decided their role in my life before it's ever happened.

to say that I had a crush on you is obvious. I guess I shouldn't have, because as I said before, I don't know if you're somebody I can trust. you defy my immediate impression. you're one person to me, another to the person I see in that journal, another to someone else, all of them different and competing and seemingly contradictory. you make my head hurt. because you don't act like you could care less whether you speak to me or not. I'm not used to that, I guess. I'm used to people caring.

that's probably why you got me so excited. cos I can't read you, and I don't know what you're thinking or what you feel, and I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you when I've got no reason to. or I did. I don't know you anymore.

I guess I'm writing this just because I don't know what's going on. I was nice to you. I liked you. I looked forward to talking to you. I got happy when you came online. I still do, even though if I get a response at all it's monosyllabic at best. generally I don't get one.

I don't know. I had a point to this when I clicked "write" but it's lost now. I want you to have some sort of response. you write such profound, beautiful, scarring things that other people get to see and get to read, you write such incredible words about other people. not about me. I guess I'm hurt. I shouldn't be. you had no reason to care. I just kindof would have liked it if you had.

don't worry about this. I'm not gonna force conversation on you anymore. for what it's worth I think you're beautiful, and it's not for your face or your body or how you work out or the size of your penis. it's because I see some pain in you that I feel in me, and I've never heard it resonate before the way it resonated when I talked to you. you probably didn't feel it. but I think you're beautiful.

13 March 2004 at 7:13 pm | No Comments »
introspection

Never let it be said that I don't deserve the title Frost the Destroyer.

In the space of an evening I've effectively shattered the roommate dynamic in my apartment.

Since I'm too headached to feel like posting all of the details, I'll just say that the female roommate is the most irresponsible person I've ever met. She did something this weekend that, not for the first time either, seriously almost fucked up my bank account and credit, and without even as much as an apology or warning beforehand, disappeared for the weekend and didn't return any of my calls.

So I got pissed, left a very weighted note on her door, and she's spent this Sunday sulking around the house and ignoring me. Instead of coming to speak to me like a rational being, I'm left to feel like I should feel bad for the note and apparently hurting her feelings.

I, however, do not. Because I did nothing wrong. And she's starting to threaten the well-being of both myself and my other roommate by her check-bouncing.

That, I find intolerable. And if nothing else, I want a bigger room. So, watch out baby.

7 March 2004 at 10:12 pm | No Comments »
bitching