seapage.

Have you ever sat in a room with your back turned to a sliding glass door with the curtain open at night?  I do every time I sit down to the computer to write, or masturbate.  The worst part about it is the reflection of the door to the dark outer realm is noticeable when you adjust your eyes to look through the computer screen.  It freaks the shit out of me because I then stare into it and think of all the horrible things that will suddenly pop in the reflection.  I'm doing it right now, actually.  Best part about it is I'm listening to the Lion King's To Die For track and it just got to the part where Simba is walking up to his father's dead corpse.  Now I have images of rotting fetus' etched in my mind.  The reflection in the screen of the reflection of the door looks hazy, almost indiststinguishable as a man's form and it sorta sways slowly right to left, or I guess that would be left to right.  The sway stops a bit when the tear ducts in my eyes go dry and I need to blink to moisten them.  It appears to come closer as I open them again and readjust my sight.  With every breath I take the movement of the form seems to quiver; pulse rapidly at the neck and head until I exhale.  Then it cocks violently to the right; arm dangles, it seems to stare into the back of my skull like it knows something I don't.  The wind blows and it's stagnant arm taps the glass.  With a slow, precise movement it raises it's head back to the upright position while keeping it's vision deadlocked on my back and focuses for a second.  The static surrounding it snaps away like piano wire under strain.  Piece by piece the image is revealed until all I can see are piercing gold eyes.  They are changing a bit...it almost looks like they're bleeding.  The gold is washing out and becoming this deep red that creeps down the front and sides of the face.  The brow bone cracks in and down as blood fills all the gaps in the face.  The slowly flooding eyes turn to tight slights of red and lower at the inner corners.  A waterfall of blood starts to spew out and onto the glass.  A massive globe of swirling black and red is rising behind it now.  The image is completely blurred minus the top of the quivering skull and the growing orb that is starting to surround it.  There is no sound as the blood rapes the glass and shoots shells on the concrete patio.  With a quick jerk of the left hand the figure smacks the glass, the orb implodes like a breath held for days.  It ignites the ground.  The cold, dry hand flexes and tears the blood away from it's line of sight.  My chair starts to turn under it's own force.  I grip the seat, knuckles white.  The wooden legs catch the seams in the hardwood flooring and scrap a sound that could kill a child.  There is a suction restraining my movement and my back is suddenly stiffened against the chair's back.  I cannot blink.  The chair turns 180 degrees with a crunching pull and am forced to stare directly into it's right eye.  In an instant the blood separates from the creature and falls to the ground like a wave off the rocks.  The grey matter falls static again and the haze lifts back to reality.  

I think I shall close the curtain.

   

I...dee...clare...war

Have you ever mistaken a complete stranger for your own reflection?  One day, years ago, when I was actually trying to do something with my life and attending college...the first time, I turned a corner and got goosebumps.  I looked into the eyes of my double.  Not my twin but my exact human replica.  It was like I was looking at myself in a mirror.  I don't think he saw it in return.  It was if I was looking into a different dimension and his Universe was hovering through a one sided mirror.  He was looking through me not at me and I could feel my temperature rising like I was never supposed to be in that spot at that particular time.  The only day the worm hole gods fucked up and left their post unattended to shit was this day and our paths crossed.  The anxiety of the moment was making the beads of sweat turn to streams on my forehead and I almost lost my muscle control to my stomach.  It only lasted a moment; fraction of time, really, but it felt like I was looking into my future for decades and I could see what it was I was supposed to become.  I blame all my failures on this moment.  This moment that the gods screwed up, walked away from the window, dropped the cosmic balls. 

I think it is this moment in my life that has made it so hard for me to just pick a team.  Jacob or Edward...why is it so hard?!  Curse you Demi-gods! 

The wheels on the bus...

I am so happy the genious at work has decided to come out of his shell and rain down his fabulousness on good ol' 480.  On my drive home from our picnic/cookout thing-a-moroll for work I was entering I-480 from the Kent direction and happened upon the construction zone that has been being worked on for a while now.  I never noticed this from the numerous times I've been on the same road coming home from work everyday but they are paving the freeway with black asphalt.  This in itself doesn't seem strange, at all, but then I really thought about it.  Why on earth would you pave your freeway in black asphalt?  I mean, it's black, number one, and two, it's black.  What genious thought it was clever to make driving even harder at night?  ...while going 75mph?  Not to mention that there are no street lights on 480.  So the equation goes as follows: curvy, poor-lit road + black paint - reflecting center line + increased speed limit + Ohio Turnpike onramp - common sense = Safe Auto and ODOT partnership. 

It also doesn't help that my headlights are complete shit and my high beams are weaker than most car's low beams.  Regardless of the hand holding going on in the insurance and transportation departments paving your roads that have no other light source besides the moon and your clouded up head lights for sight is completely idiotic.  And now I really, REALLY want to snap into a Slim-Jim.

The pool has seen it's share of floaters.

I ate ice cream at 12:30am and I'm feeling the slight tingle of a missed friend.  My belly is pulsating like the broken bolts of the Titanic as it slide across it's frozen fate.  I had planned on writting something about the day I first realized we were all puppets to the ones we love, but I am instead clenching hard and hoping my fingers will allow the words to come quicker than the taco bell flow about to literally hit the fan.  .......

Team Jacob!

Hello.  My name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father; prepare to die!

Quotes to surf life on.  The people we look up to in life are the people in ourselves we wish we could be.  I guess that goes without saying, though.  Movies have always been my one and only push.  I don't get excited over anything anymore.  The little things in life are still my most favorite moments but it's getting harder and harder for me to say, yay!, trash day!  Or, thank goodness I missed the wooly bear crossing the road.  Even though I am always excited to miss that little guy.

Writers have always been a fascination of mine.  To be able to manipulate words in a way to motivate and inspire; make peace with and create passion.  Someone who can inflame my heart to burn brighter within a sentence, especially in screen play form, has a special spot next to me on the couch.  A well written movie line with the correct amount of emphasis on the music behind it can truly change your life.  I hate when people take an object to cherish or worship in a sense, but I guess movies and their scores would be my hypecritical stance on the matter.   I can't seem to help it.  I get engrossed inside of them.  Even the horrible movies I can't help but fall into.  I have the same addiction to boys.  I fall into them as quickly as I cum...pretty damn quick.  It doesn't matter what they look like or their personalities, it's all the same to me: someone that I cannot have so I must obsess over it.  Movies are the same way.  It is a life I do not have so I want it.  Gigli for god's sakes!  I teared up and it wasn't because it was longer than 12 minutes.  I actually don't like many of the movies I watch.  I have a horribly high standard when it comes to them, life also, I guess, but I love watching them all.   I love the cinematography.  The way you are made to feel the emotion of the moment by a sweeping camera shot or a slow crawl upwards with the crescendo of the strings underneath you, lifting you up.

I forgot if I had a point.  I guess I normally don't have a point.  So...I'm thinking of buying one of the cardboard standees we are selling for the new Eclipse movie.  There are two types: Edward and Jacob.  They are just a life sized cut out of themselves posing in a sexually explicit way...well, suggestive in the PG-13 sorts.  I thought to myself, $24 is a bit much for cardboard, not to mention, really?  But what's the harm in having a little vampire or werewolf in the closet?  Then I thought if I bought Jacob would that make me a pedifile?  He is technically underage in real life.  Like it makes a difference if he were 20 playing a 15 year old or 15 playing a 20 year old.  Still pretty pedi!  Anyway, that's what I want for my birthday.

When I was a young warthog.

Why am I awake?!! 

I do this to myself all the time.  I force myself to stay awake for some god awful reason.  I think it is the same reason I cannot take naps.  I feel that I'm missing out on my life by sleeping.  And then when I finally fall asleep I feel horrible for waking up in the middle of the afternoon because I feel like I've wasted the morning but I hate to wake up and just want to always be sleeping.  Shit don't make no kinda sense!  I am a huge contradiction!

I have also come up with the plan to lose 25lbs in 2 weeks.  It comes from Christian Bale and his insane performance in The Machinist.  That, was crazy.  One can of Tuna and an apple a day for a month and he dropped 100lbs and became absolutely disgusting looking.  Granted, I do not want to look like him.  I would not be alive for one and two it creeped me out and that doesn't ever happen.  Soo...nope.  But I am going to incorporate some of that logic into this crash, unhealthy diet.  Two cans of tuna!  Ha!

I got to thinking about Jana this past weekend and it made me a bit sad.  No offence to you sweets, but I was thinking about how it must be something amazing to wake up one day and be in the middle of nowhere and still be able to coop with life that is left in shadow and miles away.  I'm not sure what she is thinking about the situation at hand, being so far from her home, her friends, family, dog...lover!  If that is making her sad and regret certain decisions, or if she is thinking that this is now her new form of home.  The not knowing what will come at her next is a solace and this new adventure is her new comfort.  I am reminded of the time I up and moved to NYC.  That just sounded like Wilson from Home Improvement...anyway, and I had no idea what I was doing or going to do for money.  It was a tingle I had never felt before.  It was good.  I miss that feeling of the unknown.  The ghosts of someone else's life to dictate my path.  I'm not sure why we as humans lost our ability to fly by the seat of our pants, go with the flow, play it by ear...use our instincts.  I think my anxiety comes from the pent up instincts I have shoved into the corner of my soul.  I use logic and brain function over wading through the water.  Closing my eyes and stepping forward with the wind pushing against my body as the only caution.  We now seem to over think everything and make unnecessary excuses for every situation.   

Watching the deer outside my window makes me wonder where they are going.  Where did they just come from and what did they do there.  Is it all a game for food?  Walk this path for greens and then back for water and then back for greens, or is it something more?  Something we have lost in ourselves?  The deer paths of my life have route numbers for names and the food and water come in the form of paper and bricks.  Are we the exact duplicates of the deer we see crushed on the side of our paths?  It can't be this way for life, can it?  Driving the same roads to the same sorce day after day.  There has to be something to gain or something to move towards in life.  Is it just money?  Can I truly be happy with no vanities and just honestly say fuck it and leave everything behind?  Hmmm...I think it may be time for a change. 

Jana, I'm comin home!

EPIC FAIL!!!

On fiy-ah!

I'm feeling a little alone in this world of the web.  Where have all my people gone?  I have no interesting posts to read when I get home at the ass-crack of dawn after work and it is making me so sad.  I used to rely on my sister for something to read on her blog but there hasn't been a post for a while.  Now I thought I could count on some interesting desert stories, but the Reeds have dried and snapped off...Help!!

I am giving you all an assignment.  I expect two posts from each of you in the next day.  I have to work tonight until 1am so this gives plenty of time to come up with the first story.  I don't work tomorrow which is awesome!!  Rockin on the River with 5 free drink tokens, loaded pulled pork nachos and a bag of fire up my ass that'll ignite world peace; evening planned.  So you will have an extra day to write the second story, for I won't read this until Saturday night after work.  Good luck.  Disappoint me and I'll murder your loved ones while you watch.  I'm not talkin kindergarten manslaughter, full blown torturous rage with a hatchet and a can of gasoline while listening to the Lion King soundtrack will be in store.  You've been warned.

Add a pinch of Viola and a dash of Soprano!

Just a question...

Name your favorite movie and movie soundtrack.

I guess, just a statement, then...

My movies are, because it is impossible to chose just one, The Lion King, The Last Of The Mohicans, Finding Neverland, Amelie, Edward Scissorhands, Running With Scissors...

Soundtracks are bunches.  How To Train Your Dragon, the above stated movie's soundtracks minus Amelie and Running..., The Davinci Code, Stardust (just a few pieces from it, though), Titanic, Chronicles Of Narnia...to name a few.

I'm looking forward to getting to know you guys better through song!  I believe the music you listen to and the movies you're drawn into are one major piece of our personalities.  Join me in the search for our friend's souls and experience the joys it may bring.

Ice Dance  the sadness of ones consuming love pulls at your heart.
To Die For  this is just simply amazing!  The mix of emotions felt with this song is too much to handle.  Hans Zimmer, enough said. 
The Battle  the amazing way this piece flows with it's cinematographic way
Impossible Opening  cheerful childlike innocence with a sharp pain of adult responsibility
Shooting Star  seems to be able to transport you to a place you feel you need to belong
Chevaliers de Sangreal  beautiful harmony
The Sinking   mainly for the staccato cymbals in the beginning and the growing tension.
Forbidden Friendship  by far my latest obsession!
Elk Hunt  this gives you an uncontrollable filling of intense movement and growing anxiety and anticipation, sooo good!

Gobble, gobble mutha bitch!

Today was an interesting day.  I tried two new things that I never thought would enter my realm of hello-ness.  The first new item was turkey from a can.  As splendid as it sounds, it had a flavor of something that wasn't so splendid.  Granted, it wasn't surprising that turkey from a can wasn't the most amazing tasting product sold at the Dollar Tree, but it wasn't the worst, either.  It was sitting in a pool of broth, which was never explained on the can as to what and where this broth came from.  It could have been pigs lard for all I know, especially since the 6oz can was supposedly three servings and each one of those servings had 3 grams of fat and 80 calories...weird.  It had a slight peppered taste and a shaker full of salt pucker that kept you wanting more.  The top of the flat circle of canned poultry had a thin layer of something tan-ish, brown.  I can only assume that is where the fat calories were being housed.  It wasn't terrible and I may partake in the eating of the can again tomorrow.

The second new thing I tried today was singing in key!  I've noticed that people don't squish their faces as much in your direction when you hit the right note.  When you don't have that crinkle sound in the back of your ear when harmonizing with the radio, or in my case, the NCM advertizing in the lobby, people tend to smile and not run.  Hanson has a new album coming out and the one song on the constant loop in the theatre is actually quite catchy...the mother fuckers.  Not to mention they're not too shabby to look at now that they look like boys.  So I have been singing and dancing, well, pretty much like normal, to it.  Clap, clap.

Twas a good night.  And damn it if I'm not craving some freaking hockey puck turkey goodness right now...

T-minus 22 years and counting...

I don't think it is fair to say that I have never felt happy.  I have been in a state of calm and relaxation before that has lasted longer than most of my shits but to truly say that lead to any sort of happiness could possibly be labeled a lie.  But I do believe in happiness.  I believe it is a place we all strive to be and will one day meet face to face.  I do not believe it will ever be in this time or in this country with these values and prenotions.  I cannot say for sure what anyone else is thinking or even decipher the words as truths that come from people's mouths but I can say with all comfortability that you are all liars.  Not only to the ones around you but to yourselves at most.  I guess with that said though, happiness is never truly acheived in full or at long bursts of time.  It is an island from which we anchor and refuel.  It is a stopping ground in the roadtrip of our lives.  To say one is happy is to deny your humanity.  Maybe I need some rehab, or just need some sleep.  But this is a sick obsession I see in my dreams.  What you got boy, is hard to find, I think about it, all the time...Ke$ha? Really?!  Shit just pops in my head.  But yeah...happiness. Who needs it?  I'd say I'm happy enough without it but there goes that catch-22-thingy again.  The ironic thing about being unhappy is that it puts you into a compulsive state of...well, happiness.  Like this fucking itching!  I know it doesn't help my skin to scratch, it actually worsens the itch, but I can't help it.  It has become the reason I do it.  I truly believe the bumps on my skin are an evolution of my need to scratch it now.  Sick obsession, indeed.

The Closer tonight made me cry balls!  It was so sad.  And so good.  That is my other obsession, feeling miserable.  It makes me feel good to cry and be all dark and depressed.  If I wasn't a manager at a movie theatre my next career plan would be serial killer, pretty sure.  And now I want Peanut Butter Crunch.     

You're gonna love my nuts!

Man Working Above...

While walking through the Pitts yesterday we stumbled upon a sign, from God no less.  A church was under going some sort of roof renivation and around the base of the building were wooden signs proclaimming Men Working Above.  I thought this was quite fitting and that every church should have a sign on the building saying Man Working Above.  For we all know who the "man" is that is working above...it's God, people!  So on our walking adventures we came up with a plan to start setting up these new "signs" from above on all the churches of the world.  It will be my mission, of sorts, to share the word.  The funniest part about the venture was when an actual construction worker came around the corner in his blue jeans and white hard-hat.  I felt like I had actually looked into the eyes of God.  My soul felt instantly cleansed and all was right in the world at the moment.  His name was Fernando.  He seemed confused when I dropped to my knees and started kissing his boots.  Our God is an awesome God, He reins from heaven above...and He's modest! 

I wanna hold your hand.

With Forbidden Friendship streaming into my ears thoughts of death come bursting through the loose fabric that houses my memories.  A kid that "friended" me on Facebook tonight has a mutual friend in common with me.  The common person on both our pages wasn't a friend of mine persay, a relationship or even a Facebook stalkee, but he is someone that entered my life and changed a piece along the way.  He is the first boy that I had a slight feeling for that glanced in my direction here in Ohio.  He is a life force that shined as bright as the dying star he would soon join.  His name is David and he is dead.

The unfortunate thing about this person is that he was made into a world of logic and in turn was poisoned by the thing he tried so hard to defy.  His moments in breath were out lasted by the breath of his moments and he died officially too young on Sunday.  He was 26.

I think the worst part of this whole situation is the fact that I knew it was coming.  The way his eyes ricocheted off your skin.  The fact that the boy never knew what he told you or could remember what you told him.  His life was a party and no one was around for the clean-up after.  He was a drug user and abuser and the alcohol flowed through his veins like toxic life.  He, like so many young gay boys before him, hid behind extravagance to blind the reality.  He was happy doing everything in his power to not comprehend being sad.  To cover up his actuallity was destroying him.  His light has gone out.  And although he is gone in sight he will live on in mind.  I hope he touched as many lives as he needed to in his short span.  For I feel our mission if chosen to accept it is to be alive long enough to open someones eyes, heart, mind, soul, for the better.  I believe David did.  R.I.P. mister.