digital pen, digital paper.

Articles of Confession

I allowed fear to get the best of me. Not that the best of me was worth much at the time. I was still young and knew very little. And I imagine there were, and likely still are, other factors which helped foster that fear. Regardless, it kept me indoors and stifled a normal social education.

Well, sitting in silence can only entertain a mind for so long. Boredom got the best of me and I needed an outlet. Anything to escape.

I found several and they all worked. Two or three lasted me for several years, but  eventually they required dedication and focus to be effective. My focus is difficult to hold, so while they have not completely died out, they have become less frequent and less potent.

Only one vice stood the test of time. And it requires only as much effort as I choose to put in. But the reward is short-lived. Repetition became a necessary evil.

Repetition evolved into routine. Routine warped into addiction.

The fear is still there, but I am older now and have grown stronger. I have yet to overpower it, and worry that I may never, but at least today is better than days of my childhood.

Cannibalism is for the birds.

Today, there was a noise from the roof. I stepped outside because curiousity and personality flaws demanded I recognize and categorize the commotion. A small brown bird streaked overhead and disappeared behind a tree. I thought I may have recognized the bird. I had seen one many times buried in a nest above the balcony. A larger black bird, in close pursuit, sounded a battle cry and also dove behind the tree. He emerged only a single moment later, prize-in-beak, and flew back to perch on the roof. I could see only half of his sleek black exterior, partially hidden by shingled ridge. His head plunged down and popped back. With each snap of his neck, a new shred of meat appeared, then quickly disappeared in feast.

I ran to the balcony and gazed upon the empty nest in a moment of silent contemplation.

Articles of Confession

Another exerpt from an old MySpace blog.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005
What kind of quiz taker are you?!

I am the kind that likes to occasionally click those little links that say “What kind of [insert something lame] are you?!” quizzes to see just how wrong (or eerily right) they are.

Your Birthdate: May 2 

You’re so intuitive, it’s like you have a sixth, seventh, and eighth sense.
You connect with others freely and easily - and you tend to have many best friends.
Warm and caring, it’s hard for you to close your heart to anyone.
Affection is like air for you - you need to give and receive it to survive.

Your strength: Your universal compassion
Your weakness: Your unpredictable mood swings
Your power color: Mauve
Your power symbol: Butterfly
Your power month: February

This one makes me laugh because
1. From the number of times people have called me an asshole, I gather that the statement of my connecting with others “freely and easily” is likely false.
2. While I have the capacity to be “warm and caring,” its generally only toward girls and close friends, and is not hard for me to close my heart to the remainder of the general public.
3. My strength: Definately not universal compassion. In fact, I am generally pretty apathetic toward other peoples problems.
4. My weakness: Unpredictable mood swings are not typically part of my repertoire. (I dont think)
5. My power color: Mauve. I had to look this up to even know what color mauve is.
6. My power symbol: Butterfly. Honestly, I’m not even sure how to combat this falsitude.
7. My power month: February. Ya, well, February is a pretty fucking sweet month.

This quiz seems to have really captured my essence.

Articles of Confession

There is a girl that works at the Publix down the street. It’s not the closest Publix, but I drive the extra 10 minutes for a chance to talk to her so I can ask her out. My brain puts together all the right things to say, but the words always get chewed up in my mouth. What comes out is usually something better swallowed. Now I am having difficulty getting my brain to put together something new, so all I can do is smile and say hello.

Articles of Confession

Exerpt from back when my friends told me I should have a MySpace blog because posting random comments about my life was the cool thing to do. Glad I don’t mess with that kind of crap anymore. +Follower.

Friday, August 12, 2005

…

so i have this song stuck in my head. well, less of a song, and more of a song lyric.

“everyone is rock ‘em sock ‘em robots…”

its from a tenacious d song i was listening to in my car.

now i am at my parents house. they left for the weekend so i am taking care of rusty, my golden retriever. im bored, sort of hungry, my head is aching ever so dully. its hot here. i need to crank the AC.

im going to do that. then maybe go out and find food since my parents apparently dont eat anymore, judging by the fact that there is nothing in the fridge aside from an old banana and some cheese.

so we meet again, cheese. my arch nemesis…

Articles of Confession

Last Sunday evening, while tending to some laundry and other errands about the house, I could hear my roommate opening and closing the front door every few minutes. A clear indicator of moving items into his car. I looked for him as I moved through the house, but we never crossed paths. This had sort of become the norm since his girlfriend “moved in.” I knew they were around, but they would typically stick to his room and remain unseen. Eventually, after hearing the door close a final time, I peeked out the window. They were standing in the driveway and kissing before getting in separate cars and pulling away from the house (never mentioning that they were leaving). This would be the first time he had used his car in several weeks. They would always take her car. Always together. Curiously, not this time.

So I shrugged my shoulders and settled in front of the television. Twenty minutes or so passed when my roommate returned having forgotten his xbox. I asked what was up and he told me he was hanging out at a friend’s. He left again, this time saying goodbye.

He then never returned. I have not seen him since and it has been a week. On Thursday, I poked my head in his room. I knew he was looking to move out soon, so I figured it was maybe all part of his plan for the moving process, though he never really said anything of it. His room, however, was as messy as ever, but his computer was gone. He knew he would be gone long enough to take the essential. That’s essential, singular. What else is needed when you hibernate and live through the internet.

I call him. Ask if he is alive. Ask how he’s been doing and what’s up. He claims to be really busy with his girlfriend’s class project, and also his work has been keeping him busy as well. He sounds a little exhausted, but that has been typical since going out with this girl. She keeps him up late into the night. World of Warcrafting.

He doesn’t say much as to where he’s been or when he’ll be back, and I’m not one to pry.

I spent a good portion of yesterday knocking back beers from Orlando Brewing Co., and apparently, while being generally unproductive, my roommate was doing the opposite and packed all his shit and left. I knew he was moving out at the end of this month, but he never mentioned a day, and his room was still an explosion of clothes and other random crap when I last saw it on Thursday, so I didn’t really see it coming.

Needless to say, I’m saddened by our breakdown in communication. But I suppose it makes no difference, now. Afterall, now I live alone.