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|Tuesday, March 3rd, 2015|
|Wednesday, July 14th, 2010|
|Hurry, hurry! Update before the urge fades!!!
Oh-Em-Gee! Nothing is really all that exciting, but I am crossing my legs and hopping on one foot to avoid pissing my pants at the moment. But instead of taking the 5-step trip over to the toilet, I'm going to write out something that will never be read again.
On that note, I wonder why I even do this. I write in here so infrequently that it is a statistical impossibility that anyone will happen to stumble upon this. I guess if I wanted everyone to read this, I would have written it on Facebook.
As far as updates go, this will be lacking. My life really hasn't changed for the better or worse since last time you got a glimpse. Everything is just kinda suspended in time. Like slow motion. Imagine, for a moment, that you are watching some action movie that should be 30 minutes long, but is stretched out with a shit-load of slowed down shots. You hear a gunshot. A man jumps sideways and then appears to be suspended in mid-air with a scared look on his face. The motion is so slow that the bullet traveling at twice the speed of sound is not budging. That is my life right now. I'm just waiting for time to speed up and kill me, but it is dragging everything out.
Okay, quick exit. I would say this bladder isn't going to empty itself, but it totally will, and that's the problem. Until next time... Current Mood: jumpy and pissed...get it?
|Friday, January 8th, 2010|
|No one will read this; no one will care
Words on Livejournal over the past year: 0
Wow, went a whole year without giving a shit about this website. I used to write on this just about every day, describing the *oh-so-interesting* things going on in my high school/college life (anything in asterisks is sarcasm). I would read through them, but, frankly, I'm a bit scared. Not scared of remembering the things I wanted to forget at one point, but scared of seeing how terrible my writing was and how stupid I sounded. It may not be that bad, but I don't want to risk it.
I clicked on the "FRIENDS" tap at the top of this site, and only two posts popped up. 2 years ago, dozens of posts would be fighting for my attention, and all of them would be from different people. Facebook has officially murdered every other "social networking" sites...even Myspace! Myspace was the fucking king a few years ago, but now Tom hasn't made a new friend in months, and all his old friends moved over. Oh how life has changed.
Last time I wrote a word here, Obama was kicking ass, taking names, and just overall being awesome. Now he's just the president, like every president before him; just black *and secretly a Muslim hell-bent on destroying America*.
And I'm already bored. This will be a rare treat to anyone who reads through livejournal anymore. A post from someone different. Have a great day, and a great year.
|Tuesday, January 6th, 2009|
|Another year, another legacy
So I thought that I would avoid New Years resolutions this year, but everywhere I go, someone is talking about how they are trying to better themselves with promises of change. Well, I decided to make a list of things I want to change in my life, and here it is:
1. Grow a beard
2. Be a better person and friend
3. Find happiness in things that I traditionally have not discovered any ounce of joy
4. Stop complaining
and last but not least...
5. Always finish what I start
So there they are. If you see me breaking any of these, feel free to let me know. Just be sure to refer to this list so that I don't just think you're being an uppity prick.
Here's to another year!!
|Monday, December 8th, 2008|
I found this on www.foundmagazine.com
It's a website where people submit the things they find on the ground, such as notes, pictures, whatever.
This is one such quote typed on a yellow piece of paper: The feeling of being "okay" does not imply that the person has risen above all his faults and emotional problems. It merely implies that he refuses to be paralyzed by them.
Truer words are hard to come by.
|Friday, November 14th, 2008|
I feel like I have been ignoring all my friends. This is neither done on purpose nor is it limited to my friends. I have been avoiding everything recently. I avoid my room and my computer because I am also avoiding writing, even though it is my major and will hopefully surround me my whole life. I am disconnected from my family, and I have just recently come to the conclusion that that is a very bad thing. I am running away from something, and I don't know what it is, but it's scary as hell and getting closer.
Most of the people I talk to on a regular basis work with me at the Olive Garden, and though they are cool people, they aren't the ones who got me through all the tough times that make me who I am today. It seems as though my life is on pause while I, for lack of a better phrase, "find myself." But if I spend any more time groping around this dark room for a flashlight, the world will eventually find the door that leads outside and enjoy some real sunlight without me.
I'm sorry for being so standoffish. I don't know if things will get better, but I want them to.
|Monday, November 10th, 2008|
|Let's be hopeful today
I had a dream last night that I picked out my favorite shirt to wear for the day. I think I'm going to wear that shirt just so I can pretend, if only for a moment, that dreams do come true.
|Friday, November 7th, 2008|
|I would like to take this moment to congratulate us for not being TOTALLY braindead
I never write in here before. And if you look back, probably half of my submissions made in the last couple years start with a line just like that. But anyways.
So, Barack Hussein Obama is now the official president elect of America. Thank-fucking-God. At the absolute last second, the good ol' U.S. of A. delivers itself from the jaws of destruction. Seriously, if McCain would have been elected, Russia would still have nukes pointed at us, Europe would gather together to find a way to uninvite us to UN parties, and Iran would be scrambling even faster to get "weapons of mass destruction" to teach our racist government a lesson. So, instead of giving global politics a massive middle finger, we have caused a collective raging boner. Go us.
France, Germany, Kenya, Russia, Iran, and countless other countries have already sent letters to praise our choice in our new president. What you don't know is that they each wrote two letters the day before the election. One letter congratulates us for finally being all the we can be, and the other warns us that nukes are on their way and should be knocking on our airspace by dawn. We can this close (my fingers are a few millimeters apart) to completely pissing off the entire world (again).
The kids of the 60's and 70's protested to get what they wanted, and they haven't stopped bragging about it yet, but we voted, and we got mostly what we wanted. So yeah, go eat shit and die Summer of Love generation, we have decided, voted, and changed America without the National Guard shooting our friends. Your move.
|Friday, July 11th, 2008|
|New TV and my glorious return to Livejournal
Finally, after months of trying, I received a piece a plastic that will turn my bank account into a shadow of its previous glory. If you haven't guessed by now, I got a credit card. I have applied before, but no one ever wanted my business. I was waiting for my rejection this time, and something surprising happened. I picked up the envelope in question and did what I always do: bend it so see if something stiff kept a portion on the paper rigid. But instead of bending completely like it always does, a few inches remained straight. Somehow, after several times of trying, someone decided to trust me. The funny part is that they went from "Don't even trust that man with the free postage" to giving me a $2500 spending limit in one letter. Go figure.
But I digress. Within 1 hour of getting that card, I had already spent...a lot...on a brand new HDTV. It's 40" and is my new baby. At first I was disappointed at the screen resolution when we played the PS3, but then we got the right cable and my eyes almost started bleeding. I seriously feel bad about killing people on GTA4 because they look so real. And when I walk around outside now, I actually find myself thinking that things in real life would look better in HD. Don't look at me like that, if you spent this much money on a flashing black box, you would be promoting it shamelessly too. I guess this is my way of fighting off the regret associated with such a big purchase. Current Mood: spent
|Sunday, January 6th, 2008|
|For those of you who don't know...
Alright, so I haven't really written about myself in a while. I may be a writer, but I'm also incredibly lazy. Maybe that's why I want to become a writer in the first place. I can do my work sitting on my ass. Great gig. But don't get me wrong, it's a lot of work to put words on page that make sense. If you aren't careful, no one will understand a word you're saying. But if you do it right, your thoughts will mix with the thoughts of the reader and he will no longer know what is his and what is yours.
But enough about that. For the past few months I have been incredibly stressed out. I ended up dropping (failing) a class because I simply couldn't have passed even if I tried. I need to learn to show up to class more often. I should be scared and worried about my future, but I just keep forging ahead blindly, and for some strange and wonderful reason, it's working. I wish I could say the same for some others in my life. My roommate has been going through a tough time for a while now. I wish I could commiserate with her. I wish I could be more help, like I used to be. I miss being best friends. I still consider her a best friend, but we don't talk like we used to. But I guess she doesn't need me when she has everyone else. But that's probably a good thing, because I'm losing my ability to listen to anyone anymore. I spend too much time in my head, and when I finally come to, they are done talking and have moved on. I'm learning about myself, but I'm forgetting about everyone else. What have I turned into?
Random, I know. But sometimes I need to write. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta eat, and losers have to write. Current Mood: thoughtful
|Monday, November 5th, 2007|
|If you wanted to know what work is like...
AT THE OLIVE PLANTATION
I hide my drawings under my palm
I stifle all non-guest related enthusiasm
People come and go
And I see them all
At the Olive Plantation
I smile and welcome
I walk and talk
To people who don't listen
I am only an obstacle
At the Olive Plantation
My labor is fast forgotten
And under the lens
When I miss-step, everyone knows
at the Olive Plantation
I am no more than a wage slave
For my money I forget my values
I am a doormat trampled underfoot
The grime at the bottom of your shoe
will end up on my face
And I will thank you and smile
because it's the Olive Plantation
Hope is denied and glory fades
They are the owners and I am the slave
At the Olive Plantation
|Wednesday, October 10th, 2007|
|School taught me how to do this
My mind travels too fast for my pen
For every word I write, I forget a sentence
Like a piece of yarn, they unravel my thoughts
Until all that's left is scribblings on pages
Pages I didn't mean to write
On thoughts I didn't know I had
Every penstroke is another instant vanished
But they leave their legacy behind them
Disguised as a trail of black blood in perfect form
And if you follow this trail, you will find me
Huddled on the floor killing pens
Squeezing out every remaining drop of inspiration
So that no one can ever say that I didn't write this sentence
|Sunday, October 7th, 2007|
|I wrote a short scene, and it goes something like this.
A middle-aged, eccentric man sits behind the counter of a dirty ammo shop. The walls are lined with guns of every kind, explosives of every intensity, and a bunch of knives. Gotta have knives. While he is wiping down a gun with a cloth, a man walks in proudly, and the shop owner puts on his best smile.
Uncle Sam: Welcome to the Wide World of Munitions, friend. We got grenades, automatic weapons, all the ammo you could shoot, and nukes, but of course we can't sell the nukes...Unless you have the cash upfront. Winks
Angry Stranger: Just give me a couple long-range cruise missiles and a bunch of out-dated machine guns for cheap.
Uncle Sam: Sounds like someone is planning a party.
Angry Stranger: You could say that. At least we will have something to celebrate.
Uncle Sam: Well, before I sell you these AMERICAN MADE machines, I need to know about the method of paym—
Angry Stranger: Oil.
Uncle Sam: What was that?
Angry Stranger: I am sitting right on an oil field. I will pay you in oil.
Uncle Sam: Well, hot DAMN! Just when I needed oil, someone comes and offers it to me. The good Lord is on my side today. How much oil are you talking about?
Angry Stranger: 40 years worth.
Uncle Sam: Well, sir, you have got yourself a deal. Have fun, now. And be careful, most of those things could put an eye out.
Many years later...
Uncle Sam: What the hell, man?
Uncle Sam: You can't invade Kuwait! Kuwait is MY territory. I thought we were friends.
Saddam: I never said we were friends. Did I ever actually make any effort to be your friend?
Uncle Sam: Well, come to think of it...no. But you bought weapons from me. That should count for something.
Saddam: Well, why do you think I bought them in the first place?
Uncle Sam: My family buys from me all the time, and usually it is just to blow shit up for fun or scare people away from their homes.
Saddam: You should have thought of that before you sold them to me. By the way, do you have anymore cruise missiles? We kinda ran out after blowing shit up for fun.
Uncle Sam: I knew it! Isn't it fun? Regaining composure. But I'm afraid I can't sell to you anymore.
Saddam: Why not, man? I thought we were friends.
Uncle Sam: We were until you invaded Kuwait. Now we have to be enemies. And enemies don't sell enemies weapons.
Saddam: Then I guess I will just have to develop a nuclear program. Do you have any plutonium?
Uncle Sam: No! And we can't allow you to get nuclear capabilities.
Saddam: I'm gonna do it anyways, asshole!
Uncle Sam: Then I guess we will have to invade you in a decade or so.
Saddam: Oh yeah? You and what army?
Uncle Sam: The U.S. Army
Saddam: Oh.... Then just forget everything I just said.
Uncle Sam: I'll tell you what I can do. Next time we have a war, we will use you as a scapegoat and invade you for that oil you owe us.
Saddam: That doesn't sound too fair...
Uncle Sam: You should have thought of that before you fucked with us. Current Mood: creative
|Saturday, September 1st, 2007|
|Sic Transit Gloria (Glory fades)
I live my life in the fast lane, but only so I can get to work or school faster. In fact, sometimes it's both. Sometimes I have to go to class wearing my work clothes so that I will have enough time to get to work after the class is over. And by sometimes, I mean after nearly every day of school. After work, I rush home to finally catch a break, but by then, I'm too tired to enjoy myself in any memorable way. This is largely due to the fact that being at work means being a cookie cut-out of everyone else's shining personality. It is very draining and steers me away from being polite outside of work. Everything meaningful in my life is suffering, while everything that tends to make people miserable is blooming. And I'm sure the worst is yet to come, and I'm not sure if I can handle it. If that far-away butterfly doesn't stop flapping it's wings soon, this rainstorm is going to turn into a hurricane. Someone save me. Current Mood: exhausted
|Tuesday, August 21st, 2007|
|Life isn't too short, but it sure as hell isn't long enough
I just found out last night that a guy I kinda knew from high school died in a car accident a few days ago. His name was, and still is, Rusty Arbo. He graduated a year before me and was involved in the Space & Engineering Academy, just like me. I don' remember much about him, and we only hung out a few times, but knowing that he is dead eats away at me a bit.
I want everyone to know one thing. YOU ARE NOT INVINCIBLE. You are made of the same delicate, fleshy material that he was, and it can all be taken away at any time. Just look at the old newspapers in Tracy. Young people have been dropping like flies lately, and most of the problem has to do with driving. Every time I hear about someone dying in Tracy, I am always surprised to see how close it hits to home. I haven't really personally known anyone that has been killed, but every death hits a closer group of friends. I never knew Ashley Lance or Michael Ucci, and I only knew minute tidbits about Brandon Dewey and Rusty Arbo, but every time someone dies, I am left wondering when this pain will happen to me, and it scares me. One day I could wake up and find out that a person who made my life have meaning during high school is dead, and I don't know how (or if) I could handle that. So everyone, please be careful out there. I need you more than you know, and I don't want to have to rely on memories.
|Wednesday, August 8th, 2007|
I bought two female rats as pets yesterday. One turned out to have balls. Fuckin' Petco.
|Saturday, July 14th, 2007|
I had my orientation at Olive Garden scheduled for 10:00 this morning. I had it all figured out. Orientation until noon, then off to Pismo, assuming my training schedule worked out. But this morning at 9:15, I received a call from my new employer describing a series of mistakes on their part which, in turn, affect me and my schedule. I was a bit excited when she first said that they needed to reschedule because I was optimistic and immediately thought that I could go to Pismo first, and then worry about Olive Garden, but my excitement was crushed when she informed me that the new time is tomorrow morning at 8:00. Nevermind all the trouble I went through to get all the necessary clothing and get everything, including me, ready for both the orientation and the trip. So not only can I not go to the beach as planned, but all my frantic scurrying about to get everything done in time is all but a complete waste. I hope this isn't how It's always going to be. Current Mood: pissed
|Tuesday, July 10th, 2007|
|Escape from decisions
Screw that interview on Thursday; I got a job at Olive Garden. Current Mood: ecstatic
|Friday, July 6th, 2007|
|It may not be much, but it's money
So I got an interview at Hot Topic because it as the only place that called me back. But the thing is, I have no idea what to wear to the interview. The only way I know how to go to an interview is with dockers and a polo shirt, but that just might not cut it for this situation. But then again, if I just go in ripped jeans and a band shirt, I may look like I'm not taking this seriously. I need some help finding the middle. Any suggestions?
|Thursday, June 7th, 2007|