kilgoret

Avatar was pretty cool, I liked the idea of the trees and neural network...

Pretty possible when you think about it.

hm...sober poetry...man I got to find a hobby...when you read this in 6 months you better not finish writing with something that looks like a poem.

toilets overflowing, the door locks getting stuck, the landlord's relatives fixing my rented house...

chip away patience, and build to the unbearable
look past the treasure, and see potential splinters in the chest

festering hatred for the irrelevant
stifling approval and compassion

realize the lie
remember the truth of all will always be, and all is possible or real.

So there's this new chick.

I find myself thinking about her all the time.  No real reasoning behind it, besides I feel like I know her.  I know her type.  I think the type is so recognizable because it's so much like my own.  Is that good enough reason to pursue her?  Does it matter if the similarity between the two of us is the unwillingness to put yourself out there?

Who knows.  In a wishful thinking sense that the world has some pre-defined plan of mystical destiny I would think it be only a matter of time.  A matter of time until we naturally meet and show each other how not interested we are.

It is what it is.  There is no destiny or magic to make it happen only pure cause and effect.

Choose what  you want, go from there...

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so what to do.  paint something i guess.  a wall blue.  another one white.   rather one wall savannah blue another one burnt parchment.  let the walls smell industrial for a few days.  vacuum the floor.  light some incense. breathe.

let the clothes pile up, let the bed never get made, let the hangers hang.

back to square one and it starts over again.  move.

I have an awesome plan.  buy a house.  move out of country.  better get started.

it's tinted outside like it does right before a fat monsoon roles in.  Funny tinted like dreams where you take the time to look at scenery and not something in front of you...

I'm thinking about how I came here and how I'm living.  I know I'm thinking about it because its the only time i bother to update the livejournal.  Recently I've seen glimmers of women I've fell instantly in love with.  As ridiculous as it sounds it may be the single factors of unavailability that make them so attractive.  It seems there's no real handle on obtaining these girls, so i don't feel bad if I shoot in miss, or don't shoot at all for that matter.

Why do I always sit to make a point- only to find I don't have one.  I'm running on the hamster wheel.  writing down my thoughts into a digital and intellectually void machine.  Like painting a picture and tossing it to the ocean.

I am bored as fuck.

i forgot my card at the grocery store today....fuck that.

I wasn't mad that I didn't get my groceries, or embarrassed that I had to walk-of-shame to my truck...i was annoyed at walking around the fucking store like an idiot picking out all the bull shit i was going to take home.  Great stuff.  Fucking retarded.  Then I come home to a house where my TV receiver isn't working....then the Internet, I check a web-site thinking miraculously something different or exciting may be unfolding.  Only to be disappointed.

Then it hits...how fucking trivial I've become.  Does leading a life that involves that sort of interaction mean anything?  Does it affect anyone besides myself?  IF I decided to be this way forever then what?  Then my job would report the my duties of having been completed for the time I was employed...the grocery stores would report they sold an extra one hundred and forty dollars of food every two weeks...DirecTV would record one more spectator on yet one more show that doesn't matter.

I'd like to think people wouldn't survive without me.  That me living keeps civilization from folding in on itself and rotting...

maybe it's time to live.

conspiracy theories would be cooler if the people behind them brushed their teeth.

I hear the rain outside.  I hear it rain harder.  I want it to rain more.  Rain forever.  Rain until the streets are flowing rivers and people are riding their wooden furniture.  Cars are ruined.  Lightning beats the only rooftops visible above water.  People are gone.  The sky stays dark all the time.  The thunder only stops grumbling to roar.  Years pass.

The sun peaks out.  The waters recede.  Plants start to take over. Sand covers everything.  The breeze is full of life and the sea.  Huts replace homes.  Phoenix is replaced with a beach.  I work on my tan.

I'm convinced I have no match.  I've heard there's a lot of fish in the sea, I'm just thinking I'm in the wrong ocean.  I need to jump over some sort of panama of canal of women.  I'm not sure I mean that as a metaphor.

I can't remember a single person in my life that I've felt truly comfortable around.  I see people living lives more my speed, but for whatever reason the people I'm associated with are nothing like them.  I'm frustrated around my family, my friends, the people I work with.  I don't see how people can be so voluntarily ignorant with their lives, so content with the constant delusional portrayal of themselves.  I don't dislike or despise these people, and I'm not really depressed with the situation I'm in.  It feels more like a frustration due to lack of any lasting connection to anything.

At any rate.  Halloween was cool.  I wanted to remember a specific part of the bumblebee.  A sight that would ignite fireflies in the stomach of any hopeless romantic.  The scene was this:

A night that wouldn't end.  At any moment one group of people would leave, another rowdier group would replace it.  The house was alive with every soul partaking in every aspect available.  Talking, singing, smoking drinking, and then drinking some more.  A halloween of all ages, young and beautiful mixed with old and nostalgic.  Good spirits throughout.

Flash forward to the present...

I sit on the couch noticing this.  Only momentarily trying to recall a night to compare.  I sit, and for the first time in a long time I appreciate fully something I'm not centrally a part of.  Something I can watch and listen and let unfold.  No resentment, no fear of its end.  In an effort to sustain the moment, I take note of my empty beer and head to the refrigerator.  I stand to face the kitchen and see a girl standing in front of the refrigerator; I see the bumblebee girl.  She's beautiful and sees me.  She watches, and I return the stare on my walk over.  I smile like I had no other intention but to smile and walk only to her.  She smiles back and I think of how attainable she just became.  She's beautiful and inviting.  It's different, a very different feeling than a more common emotion.  It feels nothing like lust or wanting, but a mutual offering of ourselves before we're even close. My arrival to her may look awkward to those standing near us, but silence results from deferring unworthy salutation.  We both look away from each other still very focused on our closeness.  Still smiling.