12-hour days turned to 14-hour days turned to 18-hour days turned to even a 20-hour day.

tee minus burnt the fuck out.

i wrote a letter today i accidentally capitalized ‘god’ he said that’s alright.

i’ll see you through the looking-glass (if i see you at all),
-imt.

i think kitties hate hrududus too.

ten bucks says that right now, linus is not missing me, and is instead being somewhat mischievous, or else napping.

i seem like an all right sort of guy.

it would be great to get to know me.

it’s important to document the time, even if it’s not so verbose.

And Especially if it’s lame.

alright then. : a reminder. if i _________, then you should _____________.

the airports weren’t so busy today. especially richmond. i sat at the end of the counter in the restaurant at RIC and had a nine-dollar sandwich like i do when i fly out around lunchtime, and even six or seven hours later, i am finding dried up tabasco stains on my pants and ketchup sticking between my fingers, even though i have washed my hands about three times since the sandwich.

it’s something about hot sauce, this week. on monday night, lisa and matt watched as i downed two dozen hot buffalo wings all by myself. i should have felt shame, but i didn’t, for some odd reason. i was hungry.

monday was my first day off in what felt like months. my holy distractions.

on sunday night i was driving back from yet another work-related experience, and wondering how many more days of this monotony before i can just die, already.

it’s my own fault. i pour myself into doing whatever it is that’s expected of me, to the best of my ability, and sometimes there’s no apparent reason for it.

life’s still not the lightning bolts and magic wands i thought it should be. you’d think i’d have given up on that thought when i was thirteen, but i’m a way stubborn sonofabitch.

nothing profound, already. existentialism pats me on the shoulder. such the goddamn fairweather friend.

i slept on my couch, on my first two nights home. i must be in the doghouse. or really, i just like to fall asleep with the cosby show on, on nick at night.

i will be quiet and sheepish, a fly on the invisible wall of the huxtable residence. (“does the wall exist?” is the question that silentlyvowed monks had alighted before finally passing from the world.)

and so the second day off. we watched a movie that had tokyo in it, and laughed in a bar afterwards. it felt right.

the realization: social lives keep you sane.

i cannot entertain myself, anymore.
-
but then, back out on the airplanes, whoring myself out to the corporate conglomerates. back into existing where pointlessness crosses disconnection and there are no guardrails or streetlights.

boredom piledrives sadness. it happens.

right now, i have arrived in midflorida. i will be here for. let’s say two weeks.

let’s say you give a damn.

it is warm here and i speed down the highways in a 2004 grand prix, windows ddown. play the MBV. be twenty again. twenty, or fresh twenty-one. five minutes of this, and i will stop whining.

.

the next couple hours will decide my relationship with baseball. the yankees win, and i go back to not caring, stare the sport out the door and regret the fling. the yankees lose, i may give it a few more weeks.
*
where i come from, everyone is having heart attacks and massive brain cancers. mom emails to let us know who is in ICU today. today, uncle roy and uncle fred are in ICU. uncle fred is not my biological uncle, but i call him uncle fred anyways. he’ll be dead within four months.

so they say.

let’s end it on a sad note?

sorry, i’m full of shit and fresh out of epics.

love& pin cushions,

-tim.

can anybody hear me?okay good, i used to be out of my mind all of the time, but it’s not

like point versus counterpoint anymore. i am the one who has disappeared and i’ll reap my rewards. i still remember when i stopped, fell through the television screen, we were both so fucking floored, it wasn’t real any more. we felt separated, not as far apart as a universe could make. in the end, we gave back the definitions we thought we’d created, it turned out we were just pretending.

philosophy locked in cold crystals. I live far far away from where I found so much out. I will post only because I am too drunk to care. frozen to myself, surely a thousand miles from any place, out of zeniths. fate, be cruel.

i watched baseball last night and even found it halfway exciting. i surprised myself.

did you see sosa hit that game-tying home run in the bottom of the ninth? holy cow.

that’s drama. even though they ended up losing in the 11th.

cubs red sox!

i used to play junior mini league baseball, which was for the kids 6 through 8 or 9 or something. i was an okay batter. i seldom needed the tee. i got to base most of the time, i think. it’s hard to remember.

i wasn’t a very good fielder though. i played left field, which means i was just a little bit better than the guy who played right field, but still really bad. there weren’t many kids who could hit the ball that far anyway. i picked out a lot of grass. i never was able to whistle with it, though.

but in my last year, i played catcher. i can’t remember if i was good at it or not.

that was when i played for the pirates. AAARGH! we were a good team. we made it all the way to the semifinals and then we barely got beat. afterwards, all the kids on the team were crying except me. not because i’m tough, but probably because i just didn’t care anywhere near as much. i remember feeling like i should be crying, or beyond just disappointed.

my dad was the assistant coach. not that junior mini-league baseball teams really necessitate assistant coaches, but c’mon, it was fun. anyway, the kids were all crying after losing the semifinal and my dad took us all out for ice cream and then everyone eventually stopped crying.

i probably got the chocolate-vanilla swirl custard cone, because that’s what i always got when i was a kid.

–

i am pretty busy right now. i’ll probably be really busy through christmas. it might be my last busy season for a very long time. the industry has taken a dive. forecasted work falls way way off.

my company laid off a bunch of my peers last week. my boss said i was very talented, though, and he urged me to consider a promotion that would keep me in an office. the office would be in either houston texas or johnson city tennessee. the tennessee office contains a girl who looks like mena suvari, and i actually enjoy her demeanor, and perplexingly she enjoys talking to me sometimes, but she is married and has a six month old baby. so why bother?

i think i will shut up and stay put.

–

dear journal,

hi. my name is tim. i enjoy listening to music, moonlit walks on the beach, bicycling through city blocks, underachieving, crock pot recipes, hockey and football games, strumming guitars in hotel rooms, watching films, getting drunk at wedding receptions, and being increasingly emotionally disconnected from the rest of the world.

what will you be like two years from now?

kind of sincerely,
-tim.

**

you came back into my life last nite.

oh, love, you are still the illest shit ever.