Rituals.

I know I haven't posted in a while, but don't worry, something is coming. I'm just not sure yet what it is. Also, I don't know when it's coming. But I do know that it will be brilliant . (Like anything I do could be otherwise?) Anway, it's coming. So relax. Enjoying a cup of coffee (or tea if that's your preference) and enjoy this nice non-confusing, non-confrontational, and well, non-interesting post. Later Days. (what? you've never watch the Weekenders? please, next you're going to say you've never watch Filmore either. seriously? it's like NYPD Blue for middle-schoolers. it rocks.) Right, so later.

Want to see a really disturbing picture? You know you do. You might hate me for it, but if you (more or less) have a sense of humor, you should find it pretty funny. Distrubing. But funny. (And I'm just putting these spaces here so you get a chance to read what I wrote before you look at the picture.) Oh, and by the way, have you noticed that I've been posting fairly consistantly lately? I have, and frankly, I'm a little perplexed. But I think that I'm either content and am finally getting back in my writing mode.....or I don't have enough to do. Or that things are so off in my life that my ramblings are becoming more and more frequent. Gee I hope it's the first one. "Gee". Ha. That's an amusing word. Like "jeepers" or "gee-whiz". Or is it "jee-whiz"? I'm not sure. So I have plans for Friday but even as I made them I seemed convinced that I somehow already had plans. And it's starting to bug me because I still ...

Spiderman. Spiderman. Does whatever a spider can. Spins a web, any size. Catches thieves- just like flies. Look out! Here comes the Spiderman! Is he strong? Listen, bud. He's got radioactive blood. Can he swing, from a thread? Take a look overhead. Hey, there! There goes the Spiderman! In the chill of night, at the scene of a crime. Like a streak of light, he arrives just in time! Spiderman. Spiderman. Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. Wealth and fame? He's ignored. Action is his reward. To him, life is a great big bang-up. Wherever there's a hang-up, You'll find the Spiderman!

Holy crap you're noisy. Stop yelling. Stop talking. Just be quiet. Be quiet or go away. Just for now, just while I'm cranky and haven't been feeling good, would you please just SHUT THE HELL UP?

So I just went back and was rereading a bunch of my old posts and I've decided that if I was ever measured by Mary Poppins' tape measure, my little description would be "easily amused by own intelligence". Also, I've added a little title section ^^^ but really, it's just another chance for me to showcase my writing and quip talents. I'm selfish like that. And people find me overbearing and condescending. Really. Plus, I posted again because I decided to add more "Evil Overlord" Stuff. And today's your lucky day because you get ten of them instead of the measly five. Throw that in the face of whoever's nearby. (But don't explain it, just mock them because you got ten and they only got five. Try it, it'll be fun) :sigh: I'm so whimsical today. If I was an Evil Overlord, I would: 6. I will never utter the sentence "Before I kill you, you should know…" 7. I will never turn into a giant sna...

Is it sad that as I work on one of my novels, I can't help but smile and be greatly amused at my own brilliance? Especially considering that I never did get around to ask S. what her opinion of it was. But it's just so funny. I mean, come on, any time you have a corporate cubicle worker making comparisons between himself and a highschool cheerleader, doesn't it just scream "great writing"?

Katzenjammer Do the lonely deserve to be cold? Is it our fault we’re lost and alone? The air’s so much heavier on our shoulders As we bear the weight of the sky. Space is silent for us. The world devoid of life. The sun holds no meaning for the blind. And no warmth for the lost . On this husk of a planet, the lost are alone. Each, their own existence. Never to cross. Never to merge. Never to warm and never to burn. A world of mirrors surrounds us. Any we see, a reflection of self. Always alone to remain alone. A wandering wolf on the plain. Ghosts of the flesh. Fading in and out of your world. Not to be seen. Not to be heard. Not to be touched or be loved. Always alone again. Always alone again. Why must you hate what you can not love? Isn’t our own scorn enough? The rot we feel when we look in the mirror. Why is this not enough? Why must you hate us too? We are the lonely. We are the lost. Maybe you were one too. So why do you add to t...

Well, I had a post but it got erased because my computer is crappy because Service Pack 2's Pop-up blocker sucks and I hate it. So fuck that, this is all you're getting. I'm going back to watching the Super Bowl Commercials.

A story I'm vaguely working on. I really, really like it. I'd almost leave it jsut as it is, but I've introduced too much plot to let it end now. The Sea Above the Sky When we’re kids, our mothers tell us stories. Stories to lull us to sleep. Stories to make our imaginations soar. Stories to frighten us and stories for us to marvel at. But they are just stories. I had a normal life. I had a normal 9-5 job in a normal sized cubicle. I had a normal girlfriend who I was going to propose to in a normal way. She would give me a normal “yes” as an answer. I had normal clothes in a normal apartment in a normal neighborhood. The world was a normal world. But normal people don’t tell stories. Not about their normal lives. Normal people only tell stories when their normal lives suddenly become not so normal. I was on my way to my normal job, taking my normal subway ride, when I first met…”her.” Which I’m sure you knew was going to happen. It’s always abo...

I've decided, well sort of decided. Okay, I think that a good sign of a guy's genuine interest or potential as a relationship, or even a friend, is the interest they show in my writing. Maybe that seems kind of selfish, to require someone to be interested in something I'm working on. But most people, even some friends of mine and especially my family, don't seem to realize or believe how serious I am about this. I really am going to be an author. I'm really writing novels. Not just little stories to keep myself busy or English papers because I enjoy the work. But actual full-blown, need to get published novels. And I don't think a lot of people get that. Now some friends, my really good friends. (like Ringo, S., AF., L., M., AM.). Those people are good enough friends, and I mean really good friends, that I don't require them to be interested. It's not important. But I think that if a guy is going to be important enough to me or thinks I...