The Great American Novel

Today i sold the previous five years of my life away. I made a grand total of 295 dollars. My furniture and accessories that i worked so hard to afford were practically handed out to the folks of casselberry. These people really didn't appreciate any of it. Offering two or three dollars for a piece that originally cost me 200 bucks. I guess that's the kinda thing that happens at yard sales to people who spend just a little to much on modern decor. I think it would have meant more to me to just hand stuff out to my friends for free. I'm not bitter but I really cant be any happier to leave. This was my American dream. It came and it went. Ive blown two very dear wishes of mine, and i really only have one left. Please let it happen.

The Future That Never Was

I am intrigued by the pasts perception of the future.  This lithograph is from the 1880s  and depicts flying aquatic buses and  late 19th century  Victorian attire. Who would have ever predicted that in the year 2000 We would still be wearing monocles and going to the opera. Im pretty positive that the only opera that occupies popular culture nowadays has the words "phantom of the" preceding it.

Synecdoche, New York

 Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I’ve been pretending I’m OK, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen. 

Decay

We have short time to stay

Our nights are slipping far away

Caught up within bad memories

Our growth seems certain to decay

Now..this feelings so alive

But, as you or anything, we die

Lets stay here for a while

Eyes so round and bright we gently smile

Live for the moment, not the past

Why do we always fall so fast?

I Just Met A Girl Named Maria.

  After my plan was foiled and i understood the truth, on the walk back from her house, i turned to my friend and said these words "i guess this is growing up" It was easy to give up, like it always was for me, that night i probably just went home and wrote some vague premonition of love and loss on my aol, bulk mail account. 
 
  Unbeknown to me, this was the genesis of the shell i would slowly build for myself to fend of hurt and to help me with any possible failure i might accumulate through the years. I don't like discussing certain things, with anyone at anytime That's how Ive always been. But really, Its better for a person to say whats on their mind the moment it happens and not let it bottle up, no matter how uncomfortable the situation is. God forbid you hold your tongue, make sure these misplaced feelings don't surface at a later date, and god forbid they do surface at a later date, lie. Simple as that. Tell the person you mean nothing to them, anything else you muster up will only hurt your cause. It doesn't matter if they share the same feelings as you. They will only use the truth you showed them to hold against you at a later date. 
 
  Billy Wilder said once that if you have to tell the truth make sure its funny or they'll kill you. He's right. Don't venture across the lines and into some realm of fantasy where things are always gonna be alright, like its the third act of a drab romantic comedy. Or possibly a Jane Austen book. Or the great gatsby. This isn't cinema, or some savvy post modern novel, your not in the staring role, maybe you once were, but you've been demoted to the pathetic supporting character, that has no character, who is just a plot device for those lesser films that need an obstacle to occupy that bothersome Second act. You are just there toreaffirm the love the two leading characters have for each other. You were quite close but deus ex machina put you in your right place. And when i say you i mean me. 
 
  When i was young, i would watch that movie, West Side Story, and during the dance at the gym, when tony and maria first glanced at each other, without uttering a single word, knew they were in love. I had delusions that this is how people met. My parents met this way, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, ect ect. My 2nd grade pea brain couldn't comprehend the fact it isnt that easy at all. The fundamental things no longer apply, time goes by, people have grown tired or maybe they've just grown tired of themselves. 
 

"but if you are failing, and you need me, I'll let you cheat, and realize all the answers were already there, and you knew them all" 

 
  As the days bleed into the nights, within the daze of depression, and my pride still nursing the sting of inadequacy, the apathy i have towards everything else is accompanied with the welcomed sensation of prescription drugs and the outer-worldly array of emotions that don't resemble sadness nor happiness, or anything else in between. I never give a second thought to most people who might try to belittle me with their gossip and banter. Its just the ways of this world. . They mean not a thing to me. Its the ones I do care about, the ones that want nothing to do with me, that's what really gets my eyes to turn red. Its not below the belt, but right in the fucking gut. I haven't got the slightest chance in hell. And illprobably end up at the bottom of a swimming pool.