No direction - my life however is highly structured against my better instinct. Same time same route same cube same lunch same email same sales pitch same Anderson cooper 360. Slight variations - contentment - I'm not in love - I'm slightly challenged - I'm petrified with fear (occasionally). I see girls. A white chic on bart with long blond strands dirtied with black streaks, fair skin, petite pointy nose, nonchalantly thumbing through songs on her I pod. What if I broke these imaginary social mores in my head and got up - walked over there smiled combo eye stare/flirty smile and simply said "hello". She couldn't hate me for that - probably respect me, probably engage me equally or give me an ironic look. Its as if my life will end if it doesn't work. The brain, the fucking brain - tricks you into retreating into an indifferent state when you're genuinely motivated to LIVE. You feel trapped however, this feeling slowly morphs into normality - the normalness, the routine strips you of spontaneity and you accept.
Imagine no fear, pure instinct and confidence. People's reactions are meaningless, the only important thing is you're naturally drawn to following an irrefutable force which draws you to speak, to act, to move in the direction of the unknown - yet, you know its right.
Friday
coloring book
the beginnings of a coloring book on graph paper. i was trying to make it alternate between more geometric pixel patterns and various creatures of some sort.. i don't know
Wednesday
Re: Locale
I had a horrible, vivid nightmare last night. I dreamt about my teeth and how I couldn't close my mouth without intense pain. It felt like all of my teeth came loose and one of my right top molars had moved behind my right bottom molars, so my jaw wouldn't close properly. So I just kinda sit there, opening and closing my jaw, spitting blood. All I can think about is all the pain I'm experiencing. Finally I build up the courage to look at the mirror. What I see is every single one of my teeth split down the middle. Like if you take a knife and just cut your teeth in half, that's what it looked like. Lots of blood, lots of yellow spit. That's how I woke up today.
Since I have sleeping issues I usually wake up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I go back to sleep, sometimes I struggle. Regardless of what happens, when 8:15am rolls around I have to get up for work. Sometimes if I'm lucky I can sleep the entire night and I'll wake up to Andrea saying goodbye. Her work schedule is inconsistent, so sometimes she'll leave while I'm still in bed. Anyway I get up, brush my teeth, piss, get dressed, grab the lunch I made the night before, check the weather(because the weather is all over the place, you just never know), and I start walking to the train station.
I walk west down Taylor to get to the train station which I didn't used to do because it's much faster to go north of Laflin and then go west on Polk, but I like walking down Taylor because all of the restaurants are on Taylor, so there's more to look at in the morning compared to walking though quiet residential streets. I see the same old man sitting on his stoop smoking. The single mother waiting with her son for the school bus. I jaywalk across Ashland Ave because it's the busiest street and I have no time to wait for the signal to change, but I hate standing on the divider when trucks and buses whiz by. I always think they're going to swerve into the divider while I'm standing there.
The Pink Line has gotten way more crowded as of late. Probably because no one wants to drive anymore because gas here is like $4.50/gal. I try to find a spot right next to the door so I can just lean up against the plexiglass. I only get on the train for two stops, so I don't want to sit down. Just get on, and get off. After I get off in the River North district, I have to walk around the river to get to my building. I really wish there was a bridge right there where I can just walk directly to the Sun Times Building where I work, but the river curves right in front of that building, so it's totally cut off. Looks like it's on an island if you look at it from the train.
I don't really want to say anything about work other than I am the at my lowest when I'm at work. There's nothing to look forward to and just being there sucks the life out of you. Okay, maybe I'll say a little more. I hate the job because it's the same thing everyday. I type information for the same companies in the same windows and I do that the entire work day. I hate the people there even more because they are horrible, hypocritical, sloppy, judgemental, butt faced miscreants. Gossip and ghetto speak pollute the air. They talk shit about each other when their backs are turned. Sunflower seeds, sticky fingers from eating glazed donuts, and rubber bands all over the keyboards. And no one works. No wonder our managers hate us.
The highlight of my day is sitting in the building lobby during breaks to people watch. Mainly girl watch because there is an art school in my building. The way Chicago is, as with most large cities, a lot of people share buildings downtown because lack of real estate, so you get a mix of different things in every building. Like I said, I work at the offices of The Chicago Sun Times, but Bank of America also has a floor. There's also a Holiday Inn, and the art school so it's frickin' amazing to sit there and watch the girls walk by. Most of the time they're going outside to smoke. I always tell people that the girls are really the best in the Midwest. California isn't even close, sorry.
After work I walk back to the station, take the train, walk home, get the mail, and greet Andrea. So it's just the morning except backwards and it's darker outside. We make dinner together. She mans the stove, I chop onions and garlic. Everyday I chop onions and garlic because no matter what we're eating we always have onions and garlic. Andrea always complains about chopping onions so one day I started doing it. It doesn't bother me. Eventually she added garlic to her recipes, so I started chopping that. I kinda take pride in chopping vegetables now. I watch Food Network closely whenever they're chopping and I try various techniques. I even bought good knives and a sharpener, so I'm pretty serious about it.
We sit down for dinner and talk about our day. Most of the time we don't say much because the TV is on, other times we have in depth conversations about work politics, or about our feelings. After dinner I do the dishes while Andrea relaxes on the futon in front of the TV that I sleep on. We watch prime time TV, and then the rest of the night we do our own thing. I usually play video games or watch a DVD while Andrea paints, or studies. It's been sort of difficult as of late because of the lack of space. Like I've been wanting to work on my backlog(which is a list of games that I've been meaning to finish)before the heaving gaming season starts, but I haven't been able to play that much because we're sharing a TV, and you know...wifey rules. I have to wait for her to go to bed before I can get any gaming done, but I'm trying to avoid that because if I play video games past 12:30am, I won't be able to sleep.
Look out for my impressions of MEGA MAN FRICKIN' NINE. Also, Hi Rok. I can't wait to read your first entry.
Since I have sleeping issues I usually wake up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I go back to sleep, sometimes I struggle. Regardless of what happens, when 8:15am rolls around I have to get up for work. Sometimes if I'm lucky I can sleep the entire night and I'll wake up to Andrea saying goodbye. Her work schedule is inconsistent, so sometimes she'll leave while I'm still in bed. Anyway I get up, brush my teeth, piss, get dressed, grab the lunch I made the night before, check the weather(because the weather is all over the place, you just never know), and I start walking to the train station.
I walk west down Taylor to get to the train station which I didn't used to do because it's much faster to go north of Laflin and then go west on Polk, but I like walking down Taylor because all of the restaurants are on Taylor, so there's more to look at in the morning compared to walking though quiet residential streets. I see the same old man sitting on his stoop smoking. The single mother waiting with her son for the school bus. I jaywalk across Ashland Ave because it's the busiest street and I have no time to wait for the signal to change, but I hate standing on the divider when trucks and buses whiz by. I always think they're going to swerve into the divider while I'm standing there.
The Pink Line has gotten way more crowded as of late. Probably because no one wants to drive anymore because gas here is like $4.50/gal. I try to find a spot right next to the door so I can just lean up against the plexiglass. I only get on the train for two stops, so I don't want to sit down. Just get on, and get off. After I get off in the River North district, I have to walk around the river to get to my building. I really wish there was a bridge right there where I can just walk directly to the Sun Times Building where I work, but the river curves right in front of that building, so it's totally cut off. Looks like it's on an island if you look at it from the train.
I don't really want to say anything about work other than I am the at my lowest when I'm at work. There's nothing to look forward to and just being there sucks the life out of you. Okay, maybe I'll say a little more. I hate the job because it's the same thing everyday. I type information for the same companies in the same windows and I do that the entire work day. I hate the people there even more because they are horrible, hypocritical, sloppy, judgemental, butt faced miscreants. Gossip and ghetto speak pollute the air. They talk shit about each other when their backs are turned. Sunflower seeds, sticky fingers from eating glazed donuts, and rubber bands all over the keyboards. And no one works. No wonder our managers hate us.
The highlight of my day is sitting in the building lobby during breaks to people watch. Mainly girl watch because there is an art school in my building. The way Chicago is, as with most large cities, a lot of people share buildings downtown because lack of real estate, so you get a mix of different things in every building. Like I said, I work at the offices of The Chicago Sun Times, but Bank of America also has a floor. There's also a Holiday Inn, and the art school so it's frickin' amazing to sit there and watch the girls walk by. Most of the time they're going outside to smoke. I always tell people that the girls are really the best in the Midwest. California isn't even close, sorry.
After work I walk back to the station, take the train, walk home, get the mail, and greet Andrea. So it's just the morning except backwards and it's darker outside. We make dinner together. She mans the stove, I chop onions and garlic. Everyday I chop onions and garlic because no matter what we're eating we always have onions and garlic. Andrea always complains about chopping onions so one day I started doing it. It doesn't bother me. Eventually she added garlic to her recipes, so I started chopping that. I kinda take pride in chopping vegetables now. I watch Food Network closely whenever they're chopping and I try various techniques. I even bought good knives and a sharpener, so I'm pretty serious about it.
We sit down for dinner and talk about our day. Most of the time we don't say much because the TV is on, other times we have in depth conversations about work politics, or about our feelings. After dinner I do the dishes while Andrea relaxes on the futon in front of the TV that I sleep on. We watch prime time TV, and then the rest of the night we do our own thing. I usually play video games or watch a DVD while Andrea paints, or studies. It's been sort of difficult as of late because of the lack of space. Like I've been wanting to work on my backlog(which is a list of games that I've been meaning to finish)before the heaving gaming season starts, but I haven't been able to play that much because we're sharing a TV, and you know...wifey rules. I have to wait for her to go to bed before I can get any gaming done, but I'm trying to avoid that because if I play video games past 12:30am, I won't be able to sleep.
Look out for my impressions of MEGA MAN FRICKIN' NINE. Also, Hi Rok. I can't wait to read your first entry.
Locale
Hey guys, since I haven't been in any of your surroundings (save for Tan) I was wondering if I can get a sense of it.
I'd share mine, unfortunately I am still saving up for a camera and the lens on my cameraphone is so dusty that it is like looking at a seedy stillshot from a surveillance camera that is blurry.
I walk to school so basically here is an account of a usual walk to and from:
Going to school.
I'd share mine, unfortunately I am still saving up for a camera and the lens on my cameraphone is so dusty that it is like looking at a seedy stillshot from a surveillance camera that is blurry.
I walk to school so basically here is an account of a usual walk to and from:
Going to school.
- Wake up. The bed is fairly big but it hurts my back so I usually sleep on this fold-and-go makeshift couch/bed thing. Right now it's dirty and I think it gave me an eye infection so I sleep on the bed. I live in Jay's grandpa's guest house (3rd and 4th floors). When I walk down to the first floor there are portraits from Bob's Portraits (Jay's dad) and I walk through an open garage. There is a guard named Jerms and a dog named Boy. Initially Boy would bark at me because I was a stranger and when he got accustomed to me he was a lot nicer. Then one day I was walking and talking at the same time and accidentally kicked him in the ribs. He is a combination angry/scared of me at the moment and I'd hate to say it but it kind of kills me.
- I go out of the house. It's a street that is usually cracking with nightlife in the evenings. There is a comedy bar (read: transvestites making fun of the audience and singing) across the street from me, which usually is littered with beer bottles. The name of the Street is Jorge Bocobo.
- Walking down the street, to my right is an off-track betting parlor. that is still usually littered with people from the night before. If I am lucky there is a Korean couple ready to hook up walking past me and in love.
- There is this comedy bar for gay males called "Supermen". I would walk by that place during the height of Soulja Boy and would have "Crank Dat Soulja" in my head as I walked by it every...freaking... day.
- Usually it smells like vomit and shit (the street does) in the morning and I have to manuever my way through said projectiles.
- I take a right on Pedro Gil, which is usually filled with people on their way to work and school and towards the end of the street are little vendors selling slippers, fried peanuts and the like. There are at least 3 taho vendors. One of them tried to sell me taho the first time I went there and since then we give each other a salute as a greeting. There is also this guy with crutches who lays in the middle of the sidewalk inthe most awkward position imaginable. He has a paper cup next to him and has long stringy hair. The funny thing is I've seen him on his work break and he's standing upright leaning on the crutches. I've seen him work other streets and it's funny because I imagine he has his own schedule for begging.
- I take a left on Taft, which is a main Manila road. Its road is also a route for the transit system over here so it's packed. Traffic is unbearable and exhaust fumes are everywhere. There used to be this one guy who had no legs, a guitar and an amp. It was actually one of the most beautiful things ever. I give him change. There is this weird conflict in that I would like to stay and watch but I have school to take care of. Plus the atmosphere is usually not conducive to loitering when everyone is trying to get from point A to point B. The irony is that the pedestrians here are too slow for my tastes. Sometimes I feel like one of those guys in the fast lane of a highway and am just biding my time to overtake the slow ass people in the lane, but the other lanes are going at the same pace. Large groups especially are quite the challenge. When you are also a pedestrian and it rains, there is this weird synergy about where everyone has their umbrellas but have to maintain a level of their umbrella so it doesn't clash with others. You see people concede to those oblivious of the unspoken protocol and it's just this subtle little thing that I can appreciate. I am guilty of being both the compromiser and the guy who doesn't pay attention (usually when I am running late or just stuck in the doldrums).
- I pass by at least three 7-11s and two mini-stops on the way to school.
- I go through a hotel entrance and bam I'm at school.
- A little alteration to the route as now the mall is open wherein I can shortcut that motherfucker. The mall is also not as steamy/rainy/whatever shitty weather Manila has at the moment and also has air conditioning. Malls are like Starbucks over here, there's one every corner. The allure is indoor convenience I think more than actual shopping it seems like. The negative is usually I am walking by a Wendy's and go "OH BAKED POTATO" which adds up in my wallet.
- So instead of taking Taft to Pedro Gil to Bocobo. It's taft to Padre Faura to the mall to Bocobo.
- In the evening and afternoon, Bocobo is much more populated and lively. There is this basketball hoop located there and kids play inbetween cars passing by without fail.
- I think I'm running out of steam here in describing. Maybe later. I will try to take pictures.
Tuesday
HOPE MOTHERFUCKERS
No 700 billion dollars to bankers with their personal caveat that they don't want american taxpayer's eyes over their shoulder. I am kind of proud of America right now (GOP AND DEMS). Let's cook up some roadkill 'cause shit ain't getting any better, but it's not getting better on more acceptable terms.
hope motherfuckers do you speak it?
tags:
gay politixxx
This is what Rock Band will do to your tastes Part 1
I looove playing this song on guitar, drums, or singing. I get giddu\y whe it comes up on a playlist, but I chenge the channel in a decond if I se the same video on TV? There is something in the publicity...I'll go more into it tomorrow. Whoo-hoo I win!
Monday
Bistek Dream
When I woke up in my bed this morning I was not in my apartment but in someone elses apartment in east side San Jose. It was sometime in the early mid 90s and the apartment was a mess with clothes and trash scattered everywhere and new kids on the block magazine posters collaged all over the wall. There were two beds across from each other both same in size, and on the bed across from mine I saw a girl with her face down in her pillow with a younger child playing on top of her. When i woke up in that bedroom things were very hazy as I was just coming out of a nightmare or another dream of some sort. Things were patchy in my mind at that moment. All I could make out was being in another small unfamilar apartment snooping around a small room when i step out into the hall a crazy man starts swinging his own thick gold dookie chain around his head threating me, perhaps wondering why I am probably tresspassing. I could not make out this mans face or remember anything about the way he looked except his shaggy brown and unstylish haircut that made him seem like some sort of sexual predator. It is at that moment that i look at my hands and I have a bicycle chain of my own that I begin wildly swinging around the apartment wrecking things hanging about on the walls enticing him to make his move. Then after a few fake head jerks and half ass swipes he takes at me I call his bluff and rush him and end somehow manage to squeeze the life out of him by choking him with my bike chain leaving greasy spotted lines across his neck. Shocked at my own strengh, I found myself relieved yet I did not know what to do with the body so.... for some reason I put him on the balcony outside and pose him as if he fell asleep enjoying the summers day and put a unsuspicious fisherman hat to shade his dead face. People passing by call out to greet him as I walk away on the streets below, paranoid. And then I wake up. In this room with this girl with her head in the pillow face down and a child playing with toys next to her. She turns to me and mutters something muffled but I cant make out anything yet I nod like I understand like I tend to always do. I could not tell how old she was, maybe 17 or 18, she had crisp even bangs and was dressed like a chola in tight skinny acid washed tapered black jeans - I could not tell but she looked like one of those asian gangters girl with penciled in eyebrows. I assumed the child was hers and passing judgement on her I assumed she must be some type of hood rat to some local gang. I was of course weirded out that this wasnt my room or my bed or I just had this crazy dream of murdering some faceless man and posing him on his own porch like weekend at bernies. Thats when my hand felt a hardbound book on the bed. It was one of those black sketch books, she turned her head to say 'go ahead, you can look at it, its mine.' So I begin to turn the pages of her book and look at all her sketches. Doodles of cholas and demons with lowrider cars, plenty of random critters with evil smiles & sketches of girls that looked lost. and i looked up at her and looked back at the book and then looked back at the child and then started to actually wake up, in my own bed, alone, 5 minutes before my alarm went off at 8.
Sunday
hand sewn bag
i know i showed you guys the lovely hand sewn bag i made a few weeks ago but hey i figured i'd show it again. whateves.
I love you to the max (repeat 3x)
So what can and can't we post in this thing?
Sometimes it feels like I'm riding this carousel and I am sitting there, feeling the horse bob and flow but not moving its legs, bob and flow in circles with music that is gratuitiously cutesy.
And I want to get off, but first I'd need to know how to get off. Of course I know that if I were to move away from a horse that is going at least less than 1mph and safely jump out of the carousel then I can leave it and its lusterless white paint, its braying twinkly music, it's turtle-like momentum of moving stationarily. But what next? What can I explore when I get off? It's not like options are bountiful at this moment. So I stay in the carousel, noticing how other people on the ride seem to be oblivious or enjoying it. I notice how the gold pillars sticking the horses and carriages to the carousel are rusted and that the music is monotonous.
I'm amped to see The Wrestler. I have yet to see The Fountain but I liked Requiem For A Dream and thought Pi was just the most gruesome pleasure to watch.
This is an article about Mickey Rourke's comeback from this movie. He is getting Oscar buzz.
Plus it's about pro wrestling although I am more interested in the backstage going-ons and the territorial history of wrestling now rather than watch the actual wrestling. Something about Chris Benoit's death has left me empty about a travelling road show of people that made money by trying to suspend your disbelief. I think I am more interested in mixed martial arts. Humourosly, if I see monster truck racing on the television I tend to watch it now.
The mythology of pro wrestling as folk-art though will always leave me wanting more. It's like Valley of the Dolls with latent homo-erotic dudes ravaging their bodies. I am glad Brock Lesnar left the business before he became Jake "The Snake" or some other godawful cautionary tale for living life in excess.
I am still on this ride, noticing how the grass is growing in increments of centimeters until a lawnmower comes by to keep it tidy. There are many fun things in this carousel if I stop and think about. There is too much not to love and sometimes I wonder about the carousels you guys are riding. Hopefully it stops on your terms and maybe we can have the power to re-decorate it or change the music or alter the horses to become like Studebakers or something.
Everyone's getting married isn't that a trip. With gay marriage being legal maybe Lewdogg can fulfill his dream as well. Have you guys seen him lately? How's he doing?
I can't wait for football. I can't wait for Christmas or watching your kids or nieces or goddaughters or sugar mommas grown up and I will fix their teeth. I can't wait for lying down on sand and maybe swimming in the summertime. Ten years ago feels like an eternity doesn't it? It's better to know you're in the carousel than thinking the ride is real.
Frenetically anxious,
Pierre
Sometimes it feels like I'm riding this carousel and I am sitting there, feeling the horse bob and flow but not moving its legs, bob and flow in circles with music that is gratuitiously cutesy.
And I want to get off, but first I'd need to know how to get off. Of course I know that if I were to move away from a horse that is going at least less than 1mph and safely jump out of the carousel then I can leave it and its lusterless white paint, its braying twinkly music, it's turtle-like momentum of moving stationarily. But what next? What can I explore when I get off? It's not like options are bountiful at this moment. So I stay in the carousel, noticing how other people on the ride seem to be oblivious or enjoying it. I notice how the gold pillars sticking the horses and carriages to the carousel are rusted and that the music is monotonous.
I'm amped to see The Wrestler. I have yet to see The Fountain but I liked Requiem For A Dream and thought Pi was just the most gruesome pleasure to watch.
This is an article about Mickey Rourke's comeback from this movie. He is getting Oscar buzz.
Plus it's about pro wrestling although I am more interested in the backstage going-ons and the territorial history of wrestling now rather than watch the actual wrestling. Something about Chris Benoit's death has left me empty about a travelling road show of people that made money by trying to suspend your disbelief. I think I am more interested in mixed martial arts. Humourosly, if I see monster truck racing on the television I tend to watch it now.
The mythology of pro wrestling as folk-art though will always leave me wanting more. It's like Valley of the Dolls with latent homo-erotic dudes ravaging their bodies. I am glad Brock Lesnar left the business before he became Jake "The Snake" or some other godawful cautionary tale for living life in excess.
I am still on this ride, noticing how the grass is growing in increments of centimeters until a lawnmower comes by to keep it tidy. There are many fun things in this carousel if I stop and think about. There is too much not to love and sometimes I wonder about the carousels you guys are riding. Hopefully it stops on your terms and maybe we can have the power to re-decorate it or change the music or alter the horses to become like Studebakers or something.
Everyone's getting married isn't that a trip. With gay marriage being legal maybe Lewdogg can fulfill his dream as well. Have you guys seen him lately? How's he doing?
I can't wait for football. I can't wait for Christmas or watching your kids or nieces or goddaughters or sugar mommas grown up and I will fix their teeth. I can't wait for lying down on sand and maybe swimming in the summertime. Ten years ago feels like an eternity doesn't it? It's better to know you're in the carousel than thinking the ride is real.
Frenetically anxious,
Pierre
Whoo-hoo I'm glad to see some posts
Pierre,
Ambien is great until you build up a tolerance and then it gets bad. Then you start squeezing hot sauce all over your bed for some reason. I would avoid it unless you really need to sleep which is what I've been doing. I only took it once this week and still I only went to bed a 3AM. I've been going to bed consistently at 2:30-3AM. I'm not forcing myself to sleep anymore which is kinda cool because I'm getting "good" sleep. I'm not waking up feeling like shit because I'm just letting sleep happen, but the downside is that I'm not getting enough "good" sleep.
Tan,
Did you comment on your own post? You fucking pimp. Anyway, I'm sorry the museum day didn't work out for you. I know it's like, "Really? I can't even have that?" Bleh. Come to Chicago mang haha. I always say that like it'll make everything better.
CJ,
Could I get a mother fucking post already? A "WOOZLE WUZZLE" or something. Are we going to Montreal? Get yo passports ready son. I love how the girls dress in Montreal. Small, but interesting downtown. Plus there's smoked meat sandwiches,poutines, and Lebatt Blue yo!
Ambien is great until you build up a tolerance and then it gets bad. Then you start squeezing hot sauce all over your bed for some reason. I would avoid it unless you really need to sleep which is what I've been doing. I only took it once this week and still I only went to bed a 3AM. I've been going to bed consistently at 2:30-3AM. I'm not forcing myself to sleep anymore which is kinda cool because I'm getting "good" sleep. I'm not waking up feeling like shit because I'm just letting sleep happen, but the downside is that I'm not getting enough "good" sleep.
Tan,
Did you comment on your own post? You fucking pimp. Anyway, I'm sorry the museum day didn't work out for you. I know it's like, "Really? I can't even have that?" Bleh. Come to Chicago mang haha. I always say that like it'll make everything better.
CJ,
Could I get a mother fucking post already? A "WOOZLE WUZZLE" or something. Are we going to Montreal? Get yo passports ready son. I love how the girls dress in Montreal. Small, but interesting downtown. Plus there's smoked meat sandwiches,poutines, and Lebatt Blue yo!
tags:
bachelor party 09,
BUI,
montreal
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