I'm fraudulent, a thief at best.

Chapter One:

So, I had this dinner date thing and the guy had the nerve to show up 30 some minutes late. Total tool. He was all like "There was traffic blah blah blah." And since it was too awkward for me to just get up and leave, we ordered food and I did my best to pretend like I had something in common with him. And to top it all off, he talked about pussy the ENTIRE time!

Of course, I am only kidding.

I spent most of Wednesday morning nervously anticipating the evening. I paced back and forth and prepared myself for the possibility of being stood up, which in all honesty, wouldn't have been a complete shock given my misfortunes in the past. I smoked too many cigarettes and convinced myself that this particular person wasn't going to show (he was late and it's completely understandable) and I would have to suffer the humiliation that comes with realizing you're not that great after all.

"Table for one?"
"Um...I'm actually meeting someone."
"Oh...okay."

Aside from being stood up, awkward silence was my biggest fear. But, to my surprise, silence was never an issue. No topics were off limits, but probably should have been seeing that we were constantly surrounded by children, which actually made things funnier. Did I mention everything was funny? Because it was.

"What's wrong with you? You're so...happy."
"I know. Its strange for me, too."

End of Chapter One

Today is, of course, another story. I want nothing more than to run across the highway and hope for the worst. Though this is a common urge of mine, it seems much stronger today. I'm finding it more and more difficult to willingly compromise myself and I certainly can no longer justify the mess I have become. I also fear that I'm becoming a mean person. I'm not comfortable with this and I wish I could apologize to everyone I've neglected to appreciate.

Poison is poison, right? Right.

I leave for Texas in a few days, which means I should get my suitcase out of the backseat of my car. I keep it there in case I ever get the urge to travel the highways to somewhere new. This urge is as deep as the one where I want to get hit by a fucking car.

It's Friday night. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

rabbit fur coat.

One week from this very moment I will be sitting in a mansion house in Plano, Texas.

I received a 23 cent raise today. A complete waste of paperwork, if you ask me.

Even though I drive past it every now and then, today I paid a special visit. I parked across the street and stood in front of a foreign fence encasing a familiar plot of land. A house once stood there. A house was condemned there. I grew up there. I remember the old lady who lived to the right of us, with the red kitchen. She was always locking herself out of her house. She always said we looked like movie stars.And I remember the alcoholic butcher who lived to the left of us. I'm certain that if I were to dig through the earth, I would find a bullet or two, aimed out of my mothers drugged disillusionment. I can still imagine the overgrown weeds, the sea of cats and the oxidized swing set.

I wanted to trespass on what was once mine, but opted against it in fear of being arrested.

I am very distracted. So distracted in fact, that I consciously neglected to acknowledge something/someone/ some feeling. It's truly an amazing feat.

I have the day off tomorrow and am already overwhelmed with nervous energy. I just don't want to disappoint anyone, because I fear it's what I've become good at.

Dōmo arigatō, Mr. Roboto

Creatures of value.

My mind and body are under siege, thanks to unknown enemy forces of inconsistent uncertainty. And yes, I realize I use the word "uncertainty" much too often when describing my life and/or state of being. I'm okay with it.

Everything is contradicting everything. And I feel as though I'm being pulled in thousands of directions by thousands of ideas and fears. I feel compelled to bite off more than I can chew. Yet, I feel equally compelled to dismiss my potential all together and settle for a life that is less than satisfactory.

I just Googled Google.

I will admit, that amidst the chaos, it is pleasantly refreshing and foreign to fall asleep happy.

While watching the Oscars, I found the perfect way to end my acceptance speech; "I suppose Dorothy was right all along. The dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."
It's beautifully cliche, not unlike myself.

I feel like my life has a laugh track. It's ironically appropriate.

the biggest flower.

I was just another face amidst a sea of plaid and flannel. I felt (and continue to feel) like a carbon copy of a cliche. I tried my best to refrain from judging people who were less refined than my co-pilot and me. I came to the conclusion that I'm jaded with things that I never wanted to be jaded by.

There was this kid standing in front of us wearing a Dandy Warhols shirt. We joked about how were were going to beat the shit out of him for being a "fag". And then we made disapproving faces at another kid for dancing like he was fucking....Charlie Brown at a Fallout Boy concert. Good times.

There was a moment. While at the piano he sang "We've seen the sunrise with new eyes" and as the words fell from him, he looked into the spotlight, wide-eyed like a child. It was then that I learned to believe that I have the power to change things. And I convinced myself that I will, without a doubt, find happiness.

Sometimes I forget how much I miss her. I followed her out, we both missed the exit. When we approached the proper exit, it split in two, she went right and I went left. It's okay, though. We're all going to the same place, anyway.

I like when people are happy. I really do. I cried at work today. I felt helpless. This happens all too often.

I bought two pairs of boots that are truly ancient relics. I got chills when I tried them on, and they happened to fit almost perfectly to the natural arches and curves of my feet. I can't help but wonder where their previous owners walked to. Maybe I'll walk there, too. I hope so.

My parents are gone for the night. It's refreshing. I think I'm going out.

No matter how hard I try...I just can't catch a break.
I need a break.

total eclipse of the fart.

I saw a dead deer today.

I almost stole a police car yesterday.

The day before yesterday I ate a burger the size of my face.

The day before that I remember being completely consumed with vacancy.

I am quickly losing track of time. Forgetting time, actually.When I go to work the sun is on its way up and when I'm leaving work it's on its way down. The space in between is spent sleeping or pretending, sometimes both at once. I've lost my will to fight, and in turn have become completely accepting of everything, without question. I fear I have lost my desire to change or make things better. I have accepted mediocrity.

I feel like people stare at me the same way people tend to stare at a child being scolded in public.

I really did come awfully close to stealing a police car. He was in the gas station and he left the car running. I paused for a moment beside it, thought briefly of the implications
and realized I was much to tired for a high speed chase.

a gaggle of cock rings and a pornographic kitchen

A young man, smelling of marijuana, wearing florescent flower clips in his hair approached me while at the register:

Young man: Do you have a calculator you can type on?
Me: Sure.
Young man: Okay. 35,000 x 500.
Me: Okay.
Young man: Now multiply that by 21, 000 and add 60.
Me: Okay.
Young man: That's how many sparkles you have in the store.
Me: (long pause) I assume that to be an accurate number, sir.

I had one of the most enjoyable nights approximately two or three nights ago. I think I may be getting the hang of this whole socializing thing. Perhaps I have surpassed "socially inept" and have entered the world of being "Charmingly quirky." I realized I don't need alcohol to be successful in meeting new people and starting conversations. People aren't as presumptuous as I thought. I might not be such a lost cause after all.

The days that have followed that evening have been draining.
I'm at the end of my metaphorical rope.

It's funny when you see someone briefly and feelings you once had return as if they never left you. It's also funny when people question your feelings and you haven't an answer, just an uncontrollable smile.

I have to finish my drawing and write another sentence or two.

quiet little voices.

My lips are chapped, which makes my mouth feel neglected.
My stomach is turning upside and downside and side to side.
My head is swelling, possibly from the excess of persistent thought.
This is to be expected. It is Friday, after all.

I almost bought a Huey Lewis and the News cd at the Salvation Army. Not buying it is currently my most consuming regret. What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking (which is very rarely a problem for me.)

I also almost bought (and regret not doing so) a pair of portraits of these creepy and sad looking redheaded children.

While contemplating the purchase of the aforementioned cd record album, a little blond girl asked me if I had ever been in a movie. When I said "No" she told me about her dog and her love of marshmallows. She was my only true and unassuming human interaction today.

The joy of clean sheets and bedding is completely unappreciated.

I think my fish knew me in a past life. He's always looking at me. Staring, actually. And not staring like a fish just, like, stares. He's neurotic and easily startled.
I'm glad I saved his life.

I think I might vomit.

"Let's slam our doors in unison
and step out into the light
when we're ready to be okay.
Okay?
Okay.
Alright?
Alright."

(happy 50th post to me. yay)

too little, too late/ too much, too soon

"You don't have to compromise who you are to grow up."

Everyone has both "good" and "bad" days.
Some have more of one and some have more of the other. The past few weeks it seems as though I have had my fair share of bad days and I find it to be completely undeserved.
Hmph!

My size 0's are falling off my hips and I haven't had a period in over three months. I suppose my body is reflecting the outer chaos. Or maybe I'm just dying.

When I went on my cigarette break, I was very close to leaving
work and never coming back. But I forgot my keys.
I'm always forgetting my keys.

I am actin' a fool when it comes to my writing.
I make excuse after excuse as to why I have to postpone writing.
I just hope that these excuses don't add up to something bigger and more permanent.

Three days off and a few unstable plans.
This might be nice.

I hate people who are living "the" life.
I'm not sure I can associate with perfection.


There has to be more to this story.

Inseparably combined

I've learned something today. You can either compromise or stay true.There really isn't much gray area in between. If you have to question it, you're lying to yourself.

The bedroom connected to mine is empty for the second time in seven years. But this time, furniture has been replaced, bags of clothing have been transported and there have been enthusiastic discussions about what new purpose the room will serve.

I have no prospects of leaving.

For my lunch break, I sat outside feeding parts of my cookie to the sparrows, all while absorbing as much sunshine as possible. Good thing, too. It started to snow a bit later. It's snowing now, actually. It looks like craft glitter.

Some days when I see people in love, I am disgusted and bitter. I make snide remarks under my breath, scoffing at the most innocent hand holding. But other days, I am absolutely enraptured with joy, just to see love. Sometimes I actually cry. Like today, for example.
My manager was celebrating her two year anniversary and her husband came in (unexpectedly) with chocolates and a card. They looked so happy that I couldn't help but be completely hopeful.
I fell back into love with, well, love.

Having said that, I'm totally sick of this Valentines day business. Diamonds and roses and sappy bullshit dripping everywhere. Love is all a bunch of manufactured shit. Absolute shit.

Having said that, I desperately want flowers and one of those Disney themed cards that I used to buy in boxes for my elementary classmates. And you know what? Fuck it. I want dinner, too. A real nice fucking dinner. Yeahhhhh.

Last night I sat in bed and attempted to start writing where I left off two months ago. (Mind you, I was distracted by the movie "Ice Princess") It took me two hours to write one sentence.

"The morning confronted me with great consequence."

This is all I have.

Outta mind outta sight.

I heard that Olive Garden is getting sued because
some girl got herpes from a chef jerking off in the Alfredo sauce.
How awesome is that guy? Right?

My manager said that she was watching me walk
and she could tell I was listening to music in my head.
I wonder if everyone can see that.
I hope so.

One of my favorite things in this entire world
is my selective ability to make people laugh
their genuine, deep down, laugh.
When I hear it, I feel like I'm hearing a secret.

Yesterday while on my ten minute cigarette break
there were these two kids, no older than three, all bundled up
doing their very best to catch two sparrows nesting in a tree.
I cannot remember a happier ten minutes in my entire life.

I've been writing tons of songs in my head.
I need to find a band, man.
Like, seriously.
I can't play any instrument.
My voice is fucked.
But...I don't know.
I just want to be bigger than you.

I have severely underestimated the power of breakfast
AT breakfast time.

The days are getting longer already.
It feels alright.