Outskirts

I like to think I started the day out right. I think I started my day yesterday. Woke up… made me a cheese sandwich… admired the beautiful rain from the balcony of my fortress… and then … nothing. I think I have somewhat gotten a handle on all of the mental and emotional problems. It’s just a matter of dressing the part. Playing the role. I get out of the house, I know exactly which me is facing the people. I can do my little freak outs and break downs and what not in my home sweet home. Is it weird to get used to that? The physical stuff would take care of themselves. (I think. Hell, I’ve been having nothing but tuna and cheese sandwiches for the past few days, that’s gotta count for something, right?)

I look back the past week and I see nothing but different faces that just happened to be pasted on my thick head.

That’s My Poison

Douche.

Let’s say you’re a guy that likes to drink, and despite not having seen a Bond movie in your long and sorry life, your favorite drink is vodka martini, shaken not stirred. Each time you walk into a bar, and you order a glass, and there’s a good reason to believe that the bartender would crack some witty (at least by his or her standards) line about James Bond. That would most likely be amusing the first few times, but eventually, unless you’re a total dork, it’ll be irritating. What do you do then? Do you just stop drinking it since some doofus in a tuxedo popularized it to the point that it’s become synonymous with the fictional character? Do you take your frustration out of every dumb ass bartender who makes such a sorry attempt at small talk in the hopes of you tossing a few bucks in the tip box? Or do you tune out every person too stupid to process the probability that you and said fictional character could actually share the same taste in alcohol?

No, I’m not going anywhere with this, I just find it soothing to cloud my mind with shit like this instead of pondering the dramatic uncertainty that is my life. It’s hard not knowing anymore. There are needs that are unfulfilled, and wants that I can’t even recognize to actually do something about it.

The Afterlife

It feels kinda silly, me being here. I’m writing this in a Burger King in the mall where Ol’ Football Head and I used to view the world like it was one giant aquarium. I’m nursing a hell of a headache, a stomach ache, the literal and extremely annoying heart ache. Guess I kinda pushed it way harder than expected over the past few days.

It’s my first week out of purgatory, and you’ll have to excuse me, I tend to get overly emotional during transitional periods in my life. It’s my version of PMS. It’s kinda freakier now since I only “work” for like a couple of hours a day, as opposed to the constant 20 hour days that have been the norm just a few weeks ago. I’d like to think, at least for this first week, I managed to use my time wisely, much to the chagrin of my body. Maybe my plan of recuperating and getting back into shape could start next week.

Second Stage

Searching

I think that was the longest stretch I’ve ever gone in recent memory that I haven’t blogged. I doubt it’s going to happen again for a long time, as I now have more time on my hands than I’ve ever had all year. How different are things now after I last posted here? Incredibly different. You know that feeling one gets at the end of a movie, when the sun rises, the cops arrive to basically do clean up, and the funny guy usually gets in one last witty one liner before everything fades to black and the credits start to roll? That’s how I feel now.

Basically everything I’ve established for the past five or so months have come to an end, annd while I’m still changing my mind about how I feel about it every five minutes or so, I have to say that I’m in a generally better mindset than I was at the start of the year, when the world first started crumbling down.

Really, Really Busy…

With the world conspiring to prevent me from my only form of therapeutic ranting, I’m going to have to say that I wont be blogging for at least another week… not that any one would notice. (I’m in between articles right now and just needed to breathe.) A lot fo shit is going down, and in a week, I may have more than enough blog time on my hands. For now, do view some of my old movies… will be mking new ones soon.

Rain Storms and Rock Piles

Jumping not quite for joy.

I had a lengthy blog post chronicling my further adventures written in a candid, open, endearing manner that promised to be entertaining and at times thought provoking ready to be uploaded and then wordpress acts up and I had to redo the whole thing. (Kidding, last week’s supposed post was just as bad as the rest of my ramblings.) So I skipped a week and here I am now, writing about how one weekend I was rolling with the waves in my least favorite beach, and drenched to my socks the next.

I do feel like a school boy again. That’s both a good and a bad thing.

I’m starting to get annoyed with how my years suddenly get repetitive. Blog long enough about your lif, and you get to see patterns, and it’s a kick in the nuts knowing had those patterns made themselves known a bit earlier… there’s still nothing one can do to change them. Not when it’s the external factors that always tend to get in the way of one’s own personal happiness. I guess that’s how it is with everyone.

Flawed by Design

Tick, tock Mr. cruz.

After a week out of purgatory, I was ready to hit the phones aagain with refreshed vigor. After the Big Man and I watched a movie and talked and laughed, I walked under the torrential rains and happily made my comeback, bursting through those glass doors screaming my latest battle cry: “Tara!”.

Then, the nurse sent me home. Apparently, even after away from the phones for a week, my blood pressure climbed higher. So it was another week off. But this “working vacation” thing was already costing me massive amounts of money, so I decided to really and slow down and devoted my week out of the office to finishing certain responsibilities for my other jobs without carrying the weight of my extremely unhealthy lifestyle.

A week of a heallthy diet, less cigarettes, fewer alcoholic drinks and no drugs whatsoever. The only vice that was retained was the caffeine. By the end of the week of course, I’d be craving for a really huge buzz for all the wrong reasons.

The Cookie Crumbles

My shoes, those I’ve been using electric tape on just so I can use them still, has finally called it quits after a rather unexpected night that I found myself once again saved in a week that I was forced to slow down due to my heart problems. Yes, it’s back, and my doctor (who seems to find it amusing to talk to me like I was a child) called it “stage 1 hypertension”. No, I don’t know what the implications of that are, but when there’s promise of latter stages, I’m assuming it only gets worse from here.

So, one week out of purgatory, I have enough funds to make this an unbelievable week but I’m as weak as an old man. Prudence would dictate that I take this opportunity to rest, recharge my worn out batteries. And I did. I did rest. I did recharge. I just did it on my terms.

Working man

My most recent photo.

For the past several days i’ve been hopped up on energy drinks, coffee and a few other things that my teeth are still grinding as i’m typing this. It’s been crazy but not my kind of crazy, not the kind that has me walking sluggishly down the street giving hugs to people with a stupid grin on my face. It was the kid of crrazy that would drive someone like me, well… crazy.

Bert tried calling me last week, repeatedly, and for some reason I just couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone. he left a message, but I believe it was directed to a different person, someone I could never hope to be again.

it just sucks having to write in this blog and the only thing i have to write about is work, but then again, maybe i’m just not the type of guy who’ll really be content. Fuck, this year started out with me unemployed and broke bbut with what I thought was a real relationship. now, i have no relationships of anny kind, and yet my ‘career” is doing cartwheels all over the place. i wonder how other people manage to do this without snapping.

Strapped In

I’m off the heels of an extremely long night. My mind feels tired, my body, well… slightly worse. I’m not really going to be big on updates again. I’m sure that, if you read this page regularly, you’d know how most of my days go. I write all day, get drunk before and after office hours, sleep when I can, etc. etc.

The regular job has begun to take its toll on me, mentally and emotionally I guess. For the past few months I’ve been mentioning about the nature of the “beast”. The call center environment, to those who are or once have been working the phones, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.

The ugly, ruthless, breeding ground for depression, leading to acts of self destruction, of the degradation of morals and principles and even sacred bonds, leaving a path of broken spirits and hearts… I spend no less than 9 hours a day there. And unlike most people, I go through all that alone.