The Bastard

David Lynch was a bad idea.

Been on a bender from hell out on the outskirts. I am on the verge of resurfacing yet caught somewhere between wake and sleep. I keep reaching for inspiring thoughts but that is all that it is, reaching. We have been sitting around playing video games and watching shows about regression to our past lives. It makes me chuckle but at the same time gives me the chills. People are consumed by a desire to understand their minds yet simultaneously consumed by their secrets. It makes you kinda wonder who you really know, or what sides of a person you know. Here we are on extended weekends when we could be somewhere else, anywhere else. Are we going to hell or are we already there? Waiting for the rem sleep to kick in, but it doesn't. Or maybe this is just a dream. More to come when I actually wake up.

W=FD

Wonderful, joyous Saturday afternoon. Stuck inside under fluorescent lights really only for the sake of warming a chair. Cutting out shelf tags with scissors as opposed to my customary way with a paper cutter, only to kill time. Building numerous seeqpod playlists, listening to punk rock, avoiding responsibility, avoiding people, and smoking cigarettes. My hair is getting longer and starting to fro out again. Idle thoughts. I keep telling myself that there will be something to do on Friday nights, then I wake up Saturday morning. I'm going to put my sunglasses on and wait for the night and it's monstrosities. I was told last night by a good friend that he could see me walking downtown with a double bladed ax. That's inspiring. There is a short film I will make some day based on the conversation, but for now idleness. I am going to start playing guitar again, tomorrow, next week, this summer, but for now...

signing off,
fromundertheovercast

Dumb luck isn't just luck. Wait, I think that came out wrong.

Yeah, it's been I while. I find myself once again reflecting on one of my previous posts. Or is it reflecting a reflection of an even further previous post. My argument essentially was that being in the right place at the right time is everything. However this is really only half of the truth. Being in the right place at the wrong time can be equally as valuable. We've all been there whether voluntary or not. It's like a tap on the shoulder from a friend that knows you as well as you know yourself trying to stop you from being drunk and belligerent or trying to tell you that regret is in store for your short term decisions. Sometimes it takes a complete asshole stranger or two to finally convince you that opportunity is actually an accident waiting to happen. Back to the goldmine...it is fatal. I fell in and all the gold turned into beer. But I can learn from my mistakes...eventually. It's in my hands. King Midas has nothing on me.