Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Just checking.

Doing the last check of the night, I go through my several different internet-social mediums: Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, Blogspot, Dailybooth, Youtube. Always in this order, though depending on my current position, one or two of these may be exempt due to deletion and/or neglect.

This is the routine. I wonder how I ever managed without these. Then, I wonder why I believe it's essential to my functionality.

When will I realize the destructive nature of monotony?

There are few things more excrutiating than nothing.


However, something new has caught my attention - attractive, even at the apex of it all. She isn't a single one though, and that is most upsetting. Is it an instinct of survival? Has my mind created the desires and illusions out of pure inactivity?

I check it all again, before bed - the pointless social outlets, only serving to highlight my own inadequacies...

...until tomorrow, where something, someone, can distract me again between the stages of lacking.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Waste

I wonder how much time I've wasted:

Sleeping in.
Learning useless information, specifically advanced mathematical equations. (I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure Pythagoras was a great guy.)
Watching awesome Japanese cartoons.
Watching dorky American cartoons.
Watching awesomely dorky Americanized-Japanese cartoons.
Finishing the song playing in my car when I get home.
Writing blogs.
Pooping. (Let's be honest, it's a waste of time. Colostomy bags are the way to go.)
Capitalizing and punctuating when it isn't needed or incorrect.
Wall-staring. (It's a legitimate form of entertainment)

When you think about it...I could have used most of that time to watch more Japanese cartoons.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Quit or Poor

I need money.
I want to quit my job.
I get money from my job.
My job is making me feel terrible.
Money makes me feel good.
Quitting my job would make me feel good.
I'll be broke if I quit my job.
The chances of finding another job are slim.

I am stuck.
Like peanut butter to the roof of the corporate world's mouth.
Please rinse me off with a cool glass of milk.
And help me to stop making bad metaphors.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Space Cowboys - Captain Malcolm Reynolds

"How can we win, when fools can be kings?" - Muse



Hoof beats on steel plating
Unnatural and archaic beasts
Playing host to new ages
Or old ages made new again

A holstered pistol
Open and displayed
Respected and honorable arrogance
It says a few things
Try me
Fight me
Fear me

Permanent smirks
Leather hats to hide them
Snarky and reserved
Serious and boisterous
Gloves to fit what situation dictates

World to world
Always the same faces
Fighting no more than you have to
No less than needs call
Unless it's funny
...It's always funny



Taking a bullet
Being hated
Loving never acting
Pushing away

Helping the helpless
Fighting the ruthless
Commanding
Flying...
Flying...
Flying...

Doing it for those you love

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Starbucks Parking Lot

A young father brought a plastic guitar out of Game Stop. His kid was beaming - skipping to the mini-van where his mom parked it. I wonder who was happier.

An older man gets out of his beat-up Chevy and walks into Jimmy John's, but I don't think a sandwich is going to make his large belly feel any better about its size.

An incredibly beautiful woman in a Cadillac Escalade drives by. She doesn't look happy. At all.

Two teen girls drive by in some crappy car that spent too much time in the 80's. They look happy. Really happy.

A well-dressed girl with good posture walks into McDonald's, she's holding her neatly folded apron and hat.

The woman smoking an entire pack of cigarettes keeps looking over her shoulder. I keep imagining Death taping on her shoulder.



A middle-aged man sits in his truck, waiting for either a friend or kingdom come. He waits a long time...

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The Architects - Part 2

This will make slightly more sense if you read the first excerpt here:

http://cohenism.blogspot.com/2009/05/architects-part-1.html




So, there’s this new instructor for my Linear Social-Structure class, and she kind of reminds me of you. She even smells like your letters. For a minute, I thought it could have been you, if she wasn’t so old. She wasn’t you, in any case. It was more accurate to just say she reminds me of you. Anyway, she’s a good friend of Jack’s, so she’s probably tyrannical in her own way. Jack controls every little thing I do.

If he was my dad, I would be more rebellious, but he’s got the upper hand, being my uncle and all. Of course, he doesn’t know I read my blueprints, so at the very least, I know what to expect. Still, it doesn’t give me much to work with.

Yup. Born of parchment, and die by parchment. It’s all pretty silly if you think about it. No one ever thought to just let life happen, as it were. That’s the Council for you - control what can be controlled, and grant freedom in the form of constraints, whether it’s constraints of time or fear or capacity doesn’t matter. It’s all the same anyway.

What an ironic name for a council. The Life Council of Free Creation. That's a joke. Free Creation? I mean, I take a class called Linear Social-Structure! Freedom and linear structure are complete opposites. It’s a self-refuting name. Asinine, if you ask me.

Oh, sorry for complaining again. Well, you know there’s no one else I can say this to. We will meet eventually, Pandora. I’ll get this off my chest, and we can just be. Just be and let our parchment run out. We’ll change the blueprints. We’ll make them eat their ink!

Sincerely,

Hephaestus

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Taken

"Well, I think someone wiped my memories clean. That's the only way I can explain it."

"That sounds a little sci-fi to me. We don't live in that kind of world."

"Maybe you don't. Anyways, they're gone, so what should I do?"

"What do you remember?"

"I don't know - English, math, science, history. How ridiculous. I remember all the high school prerequisite classes. Whoever did this to me was a sadist."

"You don't remember anything else...anyone else?"

"I can remember people, but no one I've ever met. Hitler, Stalin, Beethoven, even Captain Picard from the Starship Enterprise."

"So...no one else?"

"Is that really the question you want to ask?"

"...no."

"Then ask me."

"Do you...do you remember me?"

"I would give all the memories I have to remember you. You're the only one I've met so far that didn't look at me like I'm a stranger. You make me remember things that I don't even think really happened."

"Is that a no?"

"That's a not yet."