Category: Uncategorized

i was very excited when i realized that i actually wanted to teach philosophy, to be a professor. because the idea of teaching english had never really left much more than a bitter taste in my mouth. so that’s what it was going to be: graduate degree(s) in philosophy, philosophy professor. and then i was told that for each rare philosophy teaching position in my university there were at least 400 applicants. so i suppose philosophy professor is out. maybe i can teach gym. and i feel foolish.

i am writing a story for a creative writing class. since i brought it up, i don’t think people should take creative writing classes. if you can’t figure out what is good writing and what is bad writing intuitively, related to your own work, over a period of time through lots of trial and error i don’t think you have any business being a writer. for some reason i keep thinking that the next c.w. course will be different. but anyway, my story…it’s about god’s brother radley. it might be able to be good. but as i’m writing it for a deadline for a class it might not be good. they usually haven’t been in the past. i have heard that my professor dislikes stories not grounded in reality. this might be a problem. but that’s okay.

“during the holidays, i own your availability,” he said over the phone. i could see his lips curling into a smurk, his hand tightening on the leather whip covered in the dried blood of my coworkers. “so, choose, your other job or us.”

i chose the other job but he might not know it yet. he is on vacation, because he got more than two days to visit his family for christmas. i chose the other job because i want make it clear that he owns nothing of mine. what is funny is that he is short 3 cooks, 4 in two weeks, and at least 2 more are leaving in the next year. isn’t this called insanity?

so, how was your christmas?

i just posted a new story: change. i do realize this is not the best title i’ve ever had…but what’s in a title? everything. some people only read the titles on my site, so i feel i have let them down. but sometimes this is inevitable, and i am okay with it. the story was written last night from an idea i jotted down months ago.

also, you might notice that at the main page (here) i have put a new picture up. i thought it was pretty. no cars came by when i stopped to take the picture, which was lucky, because it was on a bend and there wasn’t much of a shoulder for me to park on. i could have laid dead next to that incredible cat. it looked like it would never decompose.

that really really sucks. i wrote this really good blog entry. it was very insightful, i worked my way through a lot of things in my head. it was simply excellent. and apparently it was a dream.

i took my last final (as it looks, all As and a B, possibly C) and thought that i would probably write another story soon, as i have posted one in about six months. that’s a long time eh? i used to post once a week. anyway, while i have a few remnants of stories that i’ve written throughout those six months, but no real interest in developing them. instead i’m reading. a lot. but on top of my current lust for reading i got another job, so the chances of my writing something are exceedingly slim.

i think i have to go to work now. crap. i don’t remember which job it’s for.

i was driving home at around midnight the other day, when bars were closing, and i saw a drunk couple stumble into the street and start kissing. cars were driving around them, honking at them, and they kept kissing. she had one hand on his butt, he had her head cupped in his hands. it was calming, and i wanted to honk at them too.

have you ever seen crash? it’s odd, and not in a charlie kaufman way, more like a soft porn way. it’s about people who get off on car crashes, either being in them, thinking about them, or seeing them. more to the point it’s about people dealing with a meaningless accident in a way that tries to make it more meaningful. at least that’s what i thought. it was hard to derive that from all the wife sharing and real car crash reenactments. they had a lot of scars.

i question you.

i am typing this on a wireless keyboard, and pointing at it with a wireless mouse. these things are new. i initially started using them so that i could remove my laptop from my desk, and thus actually use my desk. these things have accomplished this task, but have a side effect: the table on which my laptop now sits is lower than my desk, and lower than me. i tower over it and like to look down scornfully at the screen. and i realize i have never viewed my computer in this manner. and it is a wonderful feeling. i encourage you to mimic this act.

i began reading the essence of tao today and found, alarmingly, that i already have many of the same ideas/ideals that surround the tao (not taoism. that is a religion based on tao. it is a long story. basically, taoism is a religion and tao is a philosophy). i haven’t quite decided what this means.

if ever you wanted to hear the music that i create, you can now, by clicking here. i only have two songs uploaded. they were both recorded a long, long time ago. maybe even before such things as wireless keyboards and wireless mice existed. but probably not.

i was walking home one night from work (no small feat…i live seven miles from work, and i walked the interstate) when i saw strange lights in the sky above me. all the cars on the interstate disappeared, and it was just me with these three strange lights. i looked into them, and they got bigger as they got closer to me, and closer. i passed out. i woke up probed. and that’s where i’ve been for so long. my appologies, but, as you can see, it was not my fault.

i began my first story in two months last night…two months exactly, actually. i hope it will be good. and i hope i will finish this week. it’s about the weather and extreme temperatures. hazah!

my birthday is tomorrow, and it has often been among the most depressing days of the year for me. i suppose it might be for most people. not because i’m getting older and all that crap. but because it’s supposedly this special day to you, yet nobody else knows and few people remember. i guess it’s disappointment, yes?

i hope people still read this…i know in blog world one day is equivalent to a month, so as i haven’t posted for two months i should be dead, or at least bleeding profusely, or in rehab. i’m not. please tell people. and please don’t use the word “peeps” in actual, physical conversation. it’s just annoying.

tonight we went to our favorite restaurant in san marcos, hill country grill. it’s in a restored bank that has been empty for forty years. it looks ritzy when you walk in, but, as i eat there often, it’s obvious that it isn’t remotely expensive.

in any case, as we were seated i asked the hostess if dave, the owner, was there.

“no,” she said, “he’s in new orleans.”

we waited for an explanation, but she just kept smiling. “oh?” i said. “is he okay?”

still smiling, she said, “oh yeah, he’s with that association…what it’s called…oh i don’t know what they’re called, but he’s, you know…helping to clean up the dead bodies.”

is it just me, or is that ludicrously inappropriate?

she shrugged and kept smiling. “enjoy your meal!”

ahh, it’s nice to see you again. i just wrote and posted a new story, wallpaper flowers. i like it. it’s the most honest thing i’ve written in a while.

someone asked me a question the other day (it may have been myself). they asked who i was writing stories for. firstly, i answered, “for myself,” then, “for the small group of people who might read them, or who stumble upon them when searching for porn.” i had to reiterate to myself, or…to that person, that i had no illusions of becoming famous, even gaining cult fame, during or after my life, though, if it were to happen, it would most likely happen once my body has been deteriorating for some amount of time. and even then, probably only if i die before the age of thirty five, and even then, probably only if i die by some freak occurance of nature. you see, for anyone, odds are simply stacked up against them. it’s all going to erupt in a ball of fire anyway. does it really matter?

“But when I hear other kinds of discussion, especially the talk of rich businessmen like you, I get bored and feel sorry for you and your friends, because you think you’re doing something important, when you’re not. Perhaps you regard me as a failure, and I think you’re right. But I don’t think you’re a failure, I know you are.”

-The Symposium, Plato

i have the suspicion that nobody, anywhere, ever, including myself, actually…gets it.  i’m not talking about the meaning of life, all that garbage.  i just mean…getting the whole picture.  i don’t think anyone ever will.

i listen to suicide and am sent back to my childhood.  this is probably not a healthy occurance.  if you know suicide you’d know why.  frankie teardrop managed to give me a few nightmares at a very young age. 

it’s three in the morning and classes start tomorrow, 10 am for me.  i’ve been going to sleep at four or five for the last three months.  asking for any earlier is insanity.

so, i sit here in the dark, listening to rev and vega’s little freak outs, eating pasta and drinking wine.  it’s a good end to a brief summer.