the fate: abandoned on newyears eve to yr own self. ha ha. well, we make so good of this. a chance to act the new parts. to chnage for the better if it fucking kills us. to get out of this going nowhere.

hurt by the boyfriend yr never happy with whhen yr conveniently so far away would be easy to find solace in someone new where there is a spark of happiness and fun. go for that i say in my mind taste that kiss and feel something beyond monotonous fucking drab walls with a waste of time here, for once.

we’ll plan getting this all out of here soon enough. i’m not playing the part of best boy anymore. i refuse it and according to the evidence oh how i failed miserably, and the constant reminders. oh so closed off oh so no more communication. i will poison my heart to turn fortune in our favors.

find a way out of this fucking nowhere and drag yourself from being miserable once and for all, for ever. god damn it depression makes me sick to my guts and i’ll set a course to waste my life away to pointlessness to avoid it now.

drop all the fucking balls you want, i’m going to gulp xanax and cheap wine so at least i can sleep away the anxiety that makes me sick too. my friends and family have better things to do than me phoning them up with nothing to say just keep my mind occupied.

oh trust me theres no home to come to it’s all furnished ditches with central heating. get drunk and fuck the one night of the year that pretends to love you back. dont be like i can reach through time and space to brush the ideal with my fingertips, to pretend best case scenarios that never panned out, to be tricked by your own blind hearted blood that makes a body war,mer because it’s fucked away on drugs like romance and mystery- never never. the monotony is imminent. robot yourself and suits of armor for your spared feelings, how often theyve had a blade to the fleshy throat they breathed so heavy through.

so i’ll be your fucking simon walking shadow onto the beach, cutting my walk through the sacred of your ceremony and i only ask that you cut me downlike a sacrifice, and do this or else i will stew in darkest headquarters, i will boil rock into lava with my bitter staring contests with the floor and my feet will become immune to temperature, and i will walk upon my molten rivers through your burning cities and your scorched countryside and i will smile to have had an effect, after all.

we lived as children we grew to despise, realizing every move was a mistake, every swallow is something bitter and there is no taste of the world left on our tongues. sleep only kills the time we wasted on turning it all around and now it’s too far gone to take anything lightly at all. already the tips of scabbed wings grow from the calloused skin of my shoulderblades and charred pieces of organs evacuate my mouth and dissolve into this stench of air.

i have chosen scapegoat for the benefit of the world that only celebrates when i’m locked away with nothing paying me any mind – but my other half will seeth with the acid bitterness and spit on the stars to blot their fire out forever. promises personified razors and i stirred them both cold real.

you’ve been blind to all the work i put in, and my last will be digging this ditch and you need to lend me one last push, and then for fuck’s sake find something that makes life worth living.

and then, after some time, forget as much as possible, but never forgive.

your candle of life is burning away and if you dont know when it’s going out then what are you waiting for? your fate requires very much more of you, yet you continue to avoid it.,

when i am out of sight, find something to believe in and start running as fast as you can.

control is about sacrifice. sacrifice until you are in control, somewhere that fulfills the life we take for granted.

and even though i am angry about losing so much, the misery of wasting lives that could have been great would be too much of a regret to live with.

this year i resolve to be worse.

i resolve to retain the right to break any and all resolutions. i resolve to break everyones pathetic hearts especially my own.

i resolve to self destruct and hit the bottom chin first.

i resolve to climb the company ladder while using cusswords in meetings and having affairs with coworker’s wives and boyfriends.

i resolve to be bitter about little things that are no longer of any consequence whatsoever.

i resolve to have a black heart but still give to charity, anonymously.

i resolve to make myself a target. i resolve to find someone to unjustifiably beat me to a pulp with their big meaty fists.

i resolve to be regretted by everyone who’s ever had feelings of love for me.

i resolve to have an even smaller penis and i resolve to masturbate four times a day and feel very very guilty about it, constantly.

i resolve to break ties with all of my old friends and i resolve to be forced into making awkward new friends who misjudge my chameleon character.

i resolve to drive my car over a precipice, rolling out the door and onto the ground just before it goes over.

i resolve to work 13 hours a day 7 days a week and put my job ahead of personal fulfillments and human relationships and happiness.

i resolve to be happy and not miserable.

i resolve to be even more of a hypocrite and i resolve to be just as honest.

i resolve to be less confused and smarter and i resolve to please the little girl inside of me, too.

i resolve to build a twenty five thousand dollar savings and blow it all on cds and heroin at the end of the year.

i resolve to build ties to a narcotics dealer.

i resolve to read no books and write no more empty meaningless creations of my own.

i resolve to be boring and insensitive and unappealing and i resolve to be the butt of jokes and a waste of a human being and i resolve to be more real than ever before.

i resolve to have a continuous string of nonclotting nosebleeds which necessitate hospital visits and i resolve these to be stupid desperate cries for help.

i resolve to X out my picture from all of my old yearbooks and i resolve to have limitless contempt for the harmless little boy i once was.

i resolve to become whatever i am accused of being.

i resolve to create nothing but still call myself as much of an artist as all the other artists.

i resolve to have limitless contempt for everything pretentious and i resolve to be pretentious.

i resolve to claim to know what is best for everyone and i resolve to judge everyone with whatever information i have and choose to take into consideration.

i resolve to befriend as many liberals as conservatives and as many blacks as whites and as many girls as boys and as many terrorists as capitalists and as many jocks as poets and as many psychotics as neurotics.

i resolve to accept the limits of what i can understand with my dumb stupid mind.

i resolve to fail and i resolve to give up.

i resolve to not take things so seriously and i resolve to make light of hurts.

i resolve to daydream.

i resolve to be formless and spontaneous.

i resolve to be calculated and cold and i resolve to schedule my feelings for expression on solitary sunday evenings. i resolve to be closed off and impenetrable.

i guess that’s it for this year.

gollum:


/gollum drools when you pet him and he is ten.

huckleberry:


/huck drinks from the christmastree water and is not modest and is seven and a half.

sadie:


/sadie was found in the summer of ’95 as a crippled kitten on the erie canal towpath with her broken leg. she was thrown away to die but kris saved her and brought her home but the leg healed crooked and she gets around pretty good for having no elbow joint. her meow is really loud and annoying though.

they are all vibrantly alive despite all the death to cats stories shared by family members this holiday, like my dad and chad’s dad reminiscing about when they were twelve and took shots at that cat in the burlap bag with the .22 and kept on winging it . and when the great grandfather i never knew yelled at my gramma about the little litter of kittens she wanted to take in when she was a little girl and he was going to drown them but she thought if they had to die then she would do it herself and she cried and cried and put all the little kittens in a bag and walked down to the liftbridge overlooking the same canal where kris found sadie fiftyfive years later and she finally got up the nerve to drop the bag over the edge of the bridge and she cried as she listened to the desperate mews coming from the shuffling bag that barely floated on the surface of the water because she forgot to put a rock in with the kittens to take them to the bottom and she watched and listened in horror until they all drowned too near to the surface.

these three are never nervous.

after the two-million dollar settlement, marty settled into his new house on eagle street, and bought himself the small-town bar where his mom had been serving beers for eight years.

he was set to have a sitcom on his hands.

he had come so far, from the chummy smartassed, scrawny stoner-hero of the class of ’95.

but, he still had the cast and crutches, he couldnt smoke or drink ’cause of his heart, and sitcoms had become very nearly close to the brink of extinction.

“…wont get any better than this” he said, toasting the brightest part of the gray sky with his upheld glass of kool-aid, which was always always halffull.

adam’s family sends his gifts through the mail for christmas, out to california because he never comes home anymore. i say on the phone how he should come home so we can try to get some glimpses of all those people from highschool. and maybe it would make us feel better about how far away we are these days. and he tells me about the box of rusty nails his family sent him for christmas. or the bag of balloons. at least his sister/cousin sent him a scented candle. those are always nice. in another week or so he’ll get my gift of two cd’s (a gord downie solo disc i found used, and black rebel motorcycle club, which i think he’ll dig it, cat) but i didnt tell him.

even though he’s destitute in the bay area he still sent me a special edition monty python & the holy grail dvd, and a rage against the machine dvd, even though they’re not my absolute favorites, but i still like the thought of being able to see phrases pounded into walls and skeletons like “who laughs last?”, and money to alter the justice with, and things.

it is good to let the revolution exist, to keep things fresh. even if i think that even if people can be this sinister, they couldn’t possibly be organized enough to be effective, and justify all this revolutionary paranoia. right?

christmas is heartburn and cookies with sprinkles and southpark with mr. hanky. and the biggest assest christmas trees that are like 6 (six) feet wide that your mom said didnt look so fricking big when she picked it up at the tree place.

it is coming home and realizing that you named your cat Gollum ten years before and even though he probably wont live past fifteen, he wont be seeing any royalties, i dont guess. and he’s so cuddly in his old age. such for laps, not angstridden like in his youth.

but oh how things are forever changed when you can say the word fuck in a conversation with mom and it doesnt even matter.

do i look like i drink chardonnay? damn it where’s my whiskey&coke?

and maybe later today (it’s christmas eve even, and the big everyyear party into the late night with all of chad’s family) maybe i can get a glimpse of the ferret that he got for his girlfriend this year. ha.

a ferret?

i decided i needed to rush to worktoday, after meeting my doctor this morning to sit for ten minutes and say “the medications are lovely, thanks” and then watch emily pack a week’s worth of supplies in 60 minutes and dropped her off at the airport with all fingernail clippers in checked baggage only and rushed to work and got here by noon
only to find that i really dont have much of anything to do, and also my boss is taking the day off.

so i decided to try to occupy myself by writing at my livejournal, but couldnt think of anything to write
so i decided to call my mother, because she doesnt usually have much to do at work either (state job yknow..) but she’s not even near her phone, apparently.

and i’m so bored and it doesnt feel like christmas at all. though i guess i’ll finally go into the stores and buy things for the people that mean something to me- some kind of saw or tool for dad and i’m lost on the rest.

you’re either in the sky or chicago right now. i hope either one is nice.

be more proud of delaware.

it’s tax-free shopping, after all.

now i can only think how my life wasnt worth saving, being three hours out of the way.

i was probably crying
crying “wolf”?

but anything red goes down through pipes to the sewer anything red goes down through pipes to the sewer a porcelain echo mocks the sobbing a chemical demon holds yr hand on the way out “everything the way it should be after the ends we have, but so sad nothing turned out okay”

i will never cry “wolf” again, the boy said. “i’ve learnt my lesson”
“what if there really is a wolf, after all?”

amnesoid: when are you headed home?
(Kristhebrother): next week sometime…..
(Kristhebrother): not sure yet
amnesoid: do you want this ham?
(Kristhebrother): sorry?
amnesoid: the ham i just picked off of my pizza. do you want it?
(Kristhebrother): ooooh
amnesoid: i dont like ham on pizza.
(Kristhebrother): um, sure i’ll be right there
(Kristhebrother): so why’d you get it with ham?
amnesoid: that’s what they wanted. i’m just a pee-on
(Kristhebrother): oh right
amnesoid: it’s alright. i got them all diet pepsis to drink. thatll teach them.
(Kristhebrother): lol
(Kristhebrother): always looking for retaliation eh?
amnesoid: as long as it can look like an accident.
(Kristhebrother): hahaha
amnesoid: are you going to see tLotR wednesday?
(Kristhebrother): oh hell yes
amnesoid: fucking bandwagon freak.
(Kristhebrother): screw you dick
(Kristhebrother): at least i read the books
(Kristhebrother): that’s somethin
amnesoid: ha. no, it looks so cool. unbelievable.
(Kristhebrother): yeah it does
amnesoid: did you read them three times and then write sequels?
(Kristhebrother): ummmm why yes i did
amnesoid: okay, then i guess you’re worthy.
(Kristhebrother): did you do all that?
amnesoid: i read them six times, wrote two sequels and one prequel.
(Kristhebrother): i never knew that
amnesoid: what i said before is just the bare necessities.
(Kristhebrother): still have them?
amnesoid: wha?
(Kristhebrother): what you wrote
amnesoid: fuck no. i cant write.
(Kristhebrother): ok???
(Kristhebrother): if you can’t write, how’d you write them?
amnesoid: with a pen. but they were garbage.
(Kristhebrother): oooooh
amnesoid: did you read the silmarillion?
(Kristhebrother): what do you want for xmas?
(Kristhebrother): no, didn’t get to that one
amnesoid: a silmaril.l
(Kristhebrother): a what?
amnesoid: there are only three, and they’re kinda hard to find.
(Kristhebrother): i’ll do my best
(Kristhebrother): anything else?
amnesoid: wah wah pedal?
(Kristhebrother): you have a gee-tar?
amnesoid: a ham eliminator, for my pizza?
(Kristhebrother): i can do that
amnesoid: i have two. i think.
amnesoid: i just cant play.
(Kristhebrother): haha
(Kristhebrother): a bit defeatist isn’t it?
amnesoid: i wish i knew what that meant.
amnesoid: i can hold a pick, though.
(Kristhebrother): owning two guitars and not knowing how to play them
amnesoid: i want to be the singer/tambourine player. guitars are too difficult.
(Kristhebrother): tambourines suck
amnesoid: can i sing and play tambourine in FADED DIVINITY?
amnesoid: FRAYED i mean.
(Kristhebrother): they no longer exist
(Kristhebrother): different band different name
amnesoid: why not? isn’t there an audience for deathmetal anymore?
(Kristhebrother): actually, no name
(Kristhebrother): sure there is
amnesoid: oh, there is?
(Kristhebrother): they still play the same shit
(Kristhebrother): sure, in dive bars and back alleys
amnesoid: are they looking for a singer? we could compromise between their being evil and my nonchalant mellowness, and maybe wed be the biggest thing since creed.
amnesoid: i mean CREED.
(Kristhebrother): maybe….
(Kristhebrother): aiming pretty high tho
amnesoid: if CREED can do it , anybody can.
(Kristhebrother): you lack scott stapp’s looks too
(Kristhebrother): sorry to say
amnesoid: so you think he’s cute?
(Kristhebrother): oh certainly
amnesoid: me too.
(Kristhebrother): maybe you could grow your hair long, work out so you look ripped, you’ll be on your way
amnesoid: i’m not bad though
(Kristhebrother): lol