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Jun. 25th, 2006 @ 08:07 am
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Looking out for my own good has only ever backfired. |
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May. 13th, 2006 @ 06:37 pm
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I got a new livejournal, please friend it.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8) nearlyundead
Yay. |
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Leet
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Apr. 26th, 2006 @ 08:43 pm
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Still doing my job
I'm pretty good at it, except for the times when i screw up.
For the most part, i find things other people miss
And note when something isn't right
These handy little powers of observations
Earn me pats on the head that could be promotion in the works
I don't care, I'm just good at what I do, and as routine as my job is, the strange things stick out really badly, unless I'm trying to ignore them and just end the damn call as fast as possible.
That happens.
Sometimes I'm sleepy, that happens too, i just forget things.
But my job isn't really that interesting
I drew some new things
Only a few people will ever care about my drawings
My father told me straight to my face I was wasting my time drawing at all, that I had no talent and should leave it to those with talent, and instead devote my time to things I'm good at, like math, and physics, and go be an engineer.
I'm not particularly affected by this, it's just something I found unusual
Once again, the more routine things are, the more unusual things stick out.
Generally people just glance at my drawings, don't say much. They don't grimace, they aren't offensively horrible or anything, they're just not really noteworthy or interesting most of the time.
I know this better than anyone, I rarely give a crap about anything i've drawn about 3 days after it's done, at most.
But I hope someone might find it interesting, or see the thing i TRIED to draw.
Maybe guide me to better find that thing.
I dunno, there's always that hope of someone just liking it
Then there are times what people see what I was trying to draw, and then altered to make it not seem like that. They see the first thing all the same, and they ask. They look at me and they know, and I realize they know, and I am horrified because I cannot explain. I feel stares searching for my inner being, seeking to follow and trail they found with that little glimpse, that time when I tried to expose myself and succeeded, and I writhe, trying to hide again.
It's not that I don't want anyone to know who I am... it's the fact that I don't want anyone to dislike who I am... nor to I want most people to like it. With some exceptions, i fear, if you know me and still like, it is because you identify, and I want to be nothing like you. Because so many people seem to be complacent, and so accepting of what the rut they've slipped into, and I don't want to know that I am like that. Then there are the others, who I want to see and want them to like me, but i think, they, as they are, could not identify with my wretched, fearful inner self. And would not like it, they would find it repulsive and alien.
I write poetry, I have for years now. I don't keep most of it.
I don't want anyone finding it. One person has seen almost every work
She is so removed and far gone she is nearly anonymous, except to me. To me, she is someone I know very intimately.
She knows the person I was once, was later, and am even now.
And she swears that she does not hate him in the least.
Oddly... I do not care for her. I almost dislike her. I am torn between fervent adoration and sneering contempt. As I am to myself.
I suppose that I was I let her see so much of me, because I regard her nearly as a different self. She is not PART of me, no voice in my mind sounds a bit like her. she is not the same as me. There is some non-specific abstract similarity, that makes me so trusting of her, yet, also completely paranoid simply because of how much she knows, and the fact that no one is ever detached. She is not objective. Again, i do not even trust myself. I feel like I have a split series of motivations, one wishes to be honest, one sees no point in revealing these things and worries as to how this will affect everything.
So why then, of those I regard as friends and try to be myself around... is she the exception?
Because I utterly do not care what she thinks of me.
She has hated me, once, and since then, I do not care so much whether I am reviled or revered by her.
She knows who Pox is, she knows who Pox looks like. She knows who Rook is.
She knows the secret names, and the imagery and symbolism I use to describe everyone I know.
She knows why I consider the moonless starry sky the most important kind of night.
So, I decided, I've give anybody a chance.
I won't decide I'm being super-honest and open with everyone because not everyone wants that.
Hell, it's not even pleasant to consider that I may be hiding or outright lying.
I'm sorry if you DID think i was being completely open
So, here's what we do.
I'm going to steal a neat trick from a friend of mine
I'll make a letter, all you have to do is ask.
Leave a comment, asking to be sent your letter. |
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Apr. 11th, 2006 @ 09:12 pm
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Every person on your flist gets to request a drabble (real drabble: 100 words exactly) from you. In return, they have to post this in their journal and write a drabble for you. Post all fandoms in which you're willing to write.
Your friends can pick a relationship, a story arc, a missing scene, or pretty much anything they want, unless the author has previously mentioned that they will not write it. They comment with what they want, and you write drabbles and post it in your LiveJournal.
Uh, video game fiction is in.
Various movies.
Anime... i haven't seen too much, so, ask and I'll try. |
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WikiPedia meme: 3 facts, 2 births and 1 death that happened on the same day of the year as your birth, post some ones you like.
Facts:
1922 - The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics is formed.
1862 - USS Monitor sinks off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. (One of the first 2 metal-plated ships to ever sail)
1953 - The first color television sets go on sale for about $1,175 each.
Births:
1980 - Eliza Dushku, American actress (She's Albanian descent)
1975 - Tiger Woods, American golfer
Death:
1691 - Robert Boyle, Irish scientist (b. 1627)
I got communism, and frickin BOYLE.
Hah! awesome for me.
*Edit--- December 30th*
Apr. 9th, 2006 @ 09:57 pm
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When i dream at night, sometimes it is about doing my job.
It's what i talk about these days, i talk about callers like an old lady talks about her cats
I pretend to laugh about how stupid they are, and I act like i'm frustrated by their inability.
I'm not, i just wish they'd hurry the fuck up, so i could get onto the next problem, so they i can be that much closer to going home
I don't work on the things i need to when i get home, I just pass the time until i get back to sleep
I try to keep up with everyone just so I won't be alone
It occured to me today, how many things I've tried, done, gotten into, and then left behind due to some new interest, never entirely forgotten just placed into secondary importance.
It occurs to me that I try to grip the things that used to be so good, because I believe that one day things will be good again, not necessarily the same, just no longer lacking the charge they gave me.
I know that you can never go back to last year and I can't help but see how cliched and foolish it is to wish it could be so, everyone does.
I'm thinking i should just cut the strings all let my old ways fall away completely, but the idea that nothing will be coming to replace it worries me, I want to wait until i know there's somewhere to be going.
But there's a good chance holding on is holding me back.
I had some fun with spraypaint, it's hard to use.
I've always been afraid to be typical, and boring, and expected, but maybe being something undefinable simply means being nothing at all.
Being complex as a person is complex in itself, and I'm not even sure why that's what I think I should be.
I even see the repetiiveness of my asking if i should just follow my whims
So, I am.
Lemme know if you catch me in some self-doubt, i could always use a little help here and there.
I'm not doing this for anyone, not even for me. I'm doing it because i feel like it.
Maybe you should feel grateful that I'm listening, i never listen to anyone for long
Maybe you'll even start being a decent friend to me again now
I'd like that.
Won't change a thing, either way.
'cause love is love, friends are friends, no matter who they become.
At least, that's a little rule I try to follow.
I'd like to dance with somebody again, it's been a long time.
That's not a metaphor.
Apr. 7th, 2006 @ 12:02 am
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I saw V for Vendetta
It reminded me of the old days of my life
When I hated pretty much everything the world had made up until then
And I saw corruption everywhere
Thought it was my duty to do something
Before I decided I just wanted to be happy for myself
Just have my own life, because the best way to fix anything was to just be good to people, and be a person of right living.
It made me realize I've given in to the corruption too much
It also reminded me of the time I could've died, and chose that over surrendering my belief.
I've got the strength, now, I think, to fight.
And now I've got the will.
My selfish desires have left me all alone
It was my beliefs and dreams that made me an attractive person, not my surface personality
Cause while i'm animated, and kinda funny sometimes
It was my quirky commitment to my own way of doing things, and my thoroughly considered viewpoints that people ever genuinely admired.
I used to watch the news, and I used to care.
Enough with complacency
Rally the legion, Jack, it's time to fight the war.
I'll come to you, everybody, and if i think you're ready
I'll ask you to walk with me, Wayfarers.
Apr. 2nd, 2006 @ 12:49 am
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There's a cut because of lyrics, and i'm not a spammy asshole.
( Saves the Day show )
Love to those who've felt my heart.
Mar. 25th, 2006 @ 01:20 am
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The defensive press ends; I have a job now, I will be out of my debt before the fall.
I will undo the advance of my enemy, one step at a time.
Yay!
Mar. 15th, 2006 @ 04:28 pm
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