on my funeral.

I don't want one.

A funeral, that is (if you didn't read the title). I'll obviously think about it more later in life, but right now? I want to be cremated and mixed in with some fertilizer for a flower garden or something.
No service, nothing churchy, nothing fancy.
I feel irritated whenever I hear it's not for the deceased, it's for those in mourning to gather and find solace - or peace. I feel irritated because while I'm not against mourning, I am against an event being held under such a flawed pretense. I don't want my post-mortem moments to be awash with negativity and a memory wrapped in dark clothing and smeared makeup.

Of course this is assuming I'll find anything in my life that'd result in such a funeral, but either way.. If it's my death, I don't want it glorified in boy public manner. No food, no service. Group up and mourn on your own if you truly wish, but don't arrange something as foolish as a wake for me.

Or something. Half-asleep ramblings. Goodnight.

short, unintended hiatus. to end.

it's been a little while since i've written on here. I wouldn't necessarily call it neglect, so much as the fact that I've been busy enough that I don't have to call it neglect.
I've been in Spokaneland since Thursday, staying at my friend Wayne's house.
on tuesday my friends Wayne, Justin, Collin, and I will be leaving at like four-something to go to Kennewick. why Kennewick? we wanted to turn going to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers reunion on screen into a roadtrip. so we'll leave a few hours before the time of the show, and let destiny take it's golden course.

anyway, I have blogworthy thoughts on hold. they shall be coming.

title post broken.

Dear cellular-sounding-board,

I have writers block, and it won't go away. Expressing myself is made difficult by invisible walls, and yet I'm going to try anyway.
Why do I have writers block, you don't ask? I'd attribute it to feeling depressed, but sometimes I can find inspiration there so I'm making that a symptom, because I want to write but can't. So I get frustrated with what I do write, constantly deleting/scrapping entire paragraphs and pages of dissatisfaction in a flurry of fury, grinding teeth, eyebrow scrunching and all.
Despite this I'm going to try anyway.

By now I've deleted about twelve paragraphs of unfocused, disorganized, half-hearted thought that I've tapped - rather than punched, my phone is newer than that - into this digital blogfront.
So.. I'm going to see if I can't sleep off this feeling of broken English and whatever, whatever, etc, whatever.

Adios,

Mister-interweb-blog.

it's today, I hate today.

it's today.
it's a day that will probably end in dismay,
that's the way it usually is anyway.
today is the majority reason I hate August,
the "morbidity" isn't near as real as the morbidity.

I have faith in everything that ever was or wasn't,
I hope to move past my everything and anything.
it's not like I'm eternally broken,
I know I can recover.. eventually.

I hate today,
and I stupidly keep wanting something very specific to happen.
but I know there's absolutely no chance of it,
who do I think I am? someone worth it?
I wouldn't go out of my way for me.
or something, right?
emo rant over?
did it start?

I have happiness somewhere to be pursued,
but I can't pursue anyway.




ANYWAY



I'm in Spokane right now.
It's my home, always has been.
Things in Yakima have progressively been getting worse,
actually that remains true since I moved there.
Sure there were moments and weeks and months..
Where I could see myself staying a while.

But now I'm thinking seriously,
I don't really want to live in the town
where I found out you don't exist anymore.
I don't really want to live in the town
where my family went from broken to shattered.
I don't really want to live in the town
where I meet shreds of hope and lose them soon after.

Right now I'm thinking about working a little while, and saving saving saving.
And after I save, save, save, I'm thinking about moving back home, to Spokane.
Away from you, and you, and you. Sure.. away from some of my friends,
but I'd still see them. But I don't want to see you, or you, or you either.
I'm thinking about moving back, and attending community here, and working,
and saving saving saving, and then after my community years.. Either Gonzaga or CWU.
I want to be an English major. I want to move on with my life,
as many people have already done.
I'm a stupid little bug drowned in amber,
a fool eyeing the barrel of a gun, I know it's odd.
but that's what I am, and that's what I have to overcome.

My greatest hits,
my soon-after heartaches,
move on from me quick and easy.

and whatever?

plan,

job, save, spokane, job, community, save save save, gonzaga/cwu, live.

to the girl from the gamestop, but not the one I met that was working at the one in spokane today, although that one liked my shirt but it doesn't matter.

dear cellular diary.

there is immense beauty in a place, and it's very much not a foolish dream. there are wonders here and there, that I can't hope to obtain.
it's always the simple things I find I enjoyed most. the fact that I can make someone with such an overwhelming sense of presence feel embarrassed and barely able to contain a smile may have been one of my favorites.
that level of unconditional and awkward happiness I could help another achieve just by being me, it still feels unfathomable.
but achieve it I did, and whether you read this or not, or even realize it's for you, since I'm too weak to say it to you myself, I'll have to convey it through this cellular dialogue between boy and blog..

it wasn't just "fun", it was surprising and scary. but while it may turn out that I'm totally wrong, I still felt there was chemistry.
it was very complicated beneath the seemingly simple exterior of our hanging out and occasional dates.
but no matter what it may or may not have been, it was great. it felt good. and among my favorite things about you, other than how you genuinely seemed embarrassed by me (in such an adorable way to boot), I honestly think I'll miss your honesty, the look you got when things were quiet, and that despite the surface feelings of fear and insecurity.. deep down you actually made me feel warm, and calm.

anyway, this is the best I can do for you, whether you read this or not.
I do hope life treats you beautifully, and as much as I'd like to be the boy you wrap yourself up in, I do hope you find happiness and don't let fear or anything overwhelm your ambitions.

so.. goodbye, you.
thank you for existing in my life,

no matter how short it was,
it was definitely beyond sweet.

skip this one.

I don't know what you think of me,
probably very little, or much less than that even.
That's alright though, I don't really know what I think of you either.
To be honest, there's never been space for consideration, or any
form of understanding. We occasionally exchange words, sometimes
many, sometimes few, sometimes often, sometimes rarely.
Things I've learned about you..

You're cautious, and naive. Not that that's bad, we all have our
little quirks, in fact I'm probably more anti-social than you are,
I just happen to attract people for some reason.
You're very smart, and creative. It's something about you I respect,
I'm always wanting to see your creativity in action although I rarely
get the opportunity. I'd like to have the opportunity though, right?
Well, I don't know.
You're wonderful, even if you don't notice it, beautiful, even if you
won't acknowledge it. The world could easily collapse under your
bidding, if only you allowed it, though I doubt you ever would.
Sometimes I feel like you're lying to yourself to protect yourself,
though I can't argue with that without being a hypocrite.

I wonder, if you read this, would you know it's about you?
Would it matter if you instantly thought it was about you?
Maybe you'd take this as some kind of confession,
though I don't know why you would, there's nothing of
the kind here. To me, a "confession" has more mutuality than that,
more substance.
Would this scare you? I'd probably be disappointed in you if it did,
your personality isn't nearly that weak, if weak at all.
I wonder, if you read this, and knew it was about you,
what would you do? What would you think?
If you knew this was about you, maybe I'd tell you that it's okay to
let others in, find help and build bonds with those close to you -
not saying I'm one of those people of course, I don't know what
you think of me - you're much too confusing a person.
You never paint a picture in black in white, there's only ever a
canvas of greys, what should I think?

If you read this, and thought it was about you..
What do you think the chances are of you being right?
Am I talking about a real person? Who knows.
The fact is.. I doubt there's anyone strong enough to
react to this anyway, though I highly doubt you're a reader.
Or are you? Or aren't you.
Is this confusing enough?

You, who I'm talking to, who you don't know if it's you or not,
may or may not exist. I may just be speaking figuratively,
imaginatively, while that's a little odd in itself, it follows my.. character.

However, also talking about a real person would make sense too.

BAM.
I decided not to do the PC game blog thing, my irritation ran dry,
and I decided it would break any flow this blog maintains.

*cough* "flow", yeah right.

Caffeine High 51

Apparently that last one was the big five oh, whatever's big about that.
Fifty blog posts in nine months, I honestly could have done much more,
but I'm extremely impressed with myself for sticking with it this long.
As a present, tonight I'm going to rant about video games,
specifically what's ruining PC games, and fascism or whatever.

Not much of a present, I don't know who my supposed readers are,
but it's something I want to do.. Just not yet, maybe tonight if I can
manage any form of a caffeine high.

there's a silver bullet for you in the cupboard.

clarity.

I honestly don't know what I think,
there's a great many things that have been washing over me lately.
From friends, to family, to everything and anything that may or may not be.
Today I stuck a needle in my heart, to try and sew the gap closed -
figuratively of course. I'm not fucked up enough to actually try that.

What I realize is that I don't usually have what people need,
and I'm alright with that. What others sometimes don't realize
is that I don't have what they need.. I wish it were easier to
deal with that.
In my own special ways, I'm fairly broken,
and yet there are many who wish to lean on me.
It hurts as my soul cracks and creaks under
the collective weight of my gathered fate.
To be honest, I only truly have enough of myself for one person,
and while some may think that's odd - it's true.
I don't have it within my power to make the right people smile,
nor do I have it in me to express myself in a way that feels right.
It's a common curse, I don't think I'm special because I'm not,
no matter what anyone might read in my words.
Pulling meanings from them that aren't there,
like pulling off the toe nails of the clueless.

I'm not special, in any way shape or form,
and this isn't a method of self-deprecation,
it's just the honest truth.
Because just as I'm not special, in most ways..
Neither are you.
It's not a bad thing, of course we all have
little quirks that make us who we are,
we are unique little flowers, and blah blah blah.
But no matter what I have that you don't,
I'm definitely not more important than you,
nor am I less important.

No matter what issues anyone may be dealing with,
we're not the first to suffer by any length,
and there are definitely those who have suffered more.
Every life is significant, I guess.

It's officially August, and I hate this month. I associate it with a bad memory,
and use that memory to funnel every single one of my other bad memories,
a way to deal with my PTSD on a yearly basis almost (as unhealthy as that
is in reality), I've slowly been doing better with it though.
But still, I don't like August, it makes me feel sick to my stomach at times.
Even now realizing it's here, I don't feel well. But I'll get through this, not
like I've never managed before.

Goodnight, right?