Apartment

Though I have yet to move, I do have an apartment now. Los Angeles. This is going to be really interesting. I still have no idea what I am doing, and have not let what is going on sink in yet. This makes it all easier... It's as if I've had a lobotomy. No big deal. Just turn off the head and do as little as I can with the body.

I find it hard to write anything. Usually when there is a lot going on it would be easier to write, but I don't really understand yet what is happening. Nothing. Goodbye.

Who

Something is following

Following me

Swallowing me

I've waited

I see it

I lose it

Do I even exist?

I woke up, but went back to sleep

Nothing to do, everything paused

Again I awake, in the afternoon

Messages left but nobody's calling

I need some of these people to help me now

I will pay the prices they request

They just need to return my phone calls

Terror

It follows me

Shame reproduces inside of me

Fear keeps me safe

I think I might be dead

A new year

Pressure.

I am not making it happen.

Open the door and the wind will blow the leaves inside.

And the leaves are curious.

I just want to relax. NOT AN OPTION!

I got a call today about the apartment I've been fantasizing about for months... I can have it if I want it. Now I don't believe that I want it anymore. It's too small. I just don't know what I'm doing. I feel so clueless, but the choices I make now will greatly effect my future. I hate that. I like choices of no consequence. I am not sure if any such choices actually exist. I am working for my parents the next three days. First I will clean their entire house, then I will be ushering their concert, along with working the door, providing security, taking donations and also snapping some photographs. How will I do? Well. I'm sure. I hope. Wanting to do well is more than half of the challenge.

The last blog I posted was just a quick blood letting. I was thinking about some things that bother me. I tried to convey my frustrations in a way that would be cryptic and direct. I just don't really want anyone to know what it is I'm talking about because I am embarrassed of my emotions. Don't tell me that I should not be. Maybe I shouldn't be embarrassed about most of the things I feel, but there are a couple of things about me that bring me great shame. I have not acted in an inappropriate way outwardly, that is one thing I can take pride in. Inside I am always a mess. I would expect that everyone is, but I hope not.

Yesterday I had a lot of things on my mind that I wanted to get done. I did none of these things. Working for CVS was way easier than this. If I ask for answers, I get questions. It is my life, but what do I know about living it? This is a very honest question. I don't even know that any of the things I am struggling for are things that I want. I feel like I am seventeen. When I was actually seventeen, I was really only fourteen, at best.

I like doing one thing. What that thing is isn't important. I start doing one thing and I find that I like it. That's it! That is the thing I will be doing from now on. The only thing. Nothing else matters. It may be a food I like to eat, like figs. It may be an activity I enjoy, like bicycling. It may be an album I love, like Deerhoof's Apple O'. I find that breaking habits is my whole life. I am easily set into routine because without it I get nothing done. Things I have never done never begin. How would I know how to do it? The second time around I will be a professional... or close to it. I just can't wait for the time when the awkward firsts are over so I can live. My guess is that they won't ever be over.

Fuck you, bitch!

I can't fucking stand to look at your face in the photograph.

I can't fucking stand to look in the mirror.

I can't stand it.

One day I will do or create something that will make them all think. They will miss me. Until then, get a job, lose some weight, listen to music, pretend to cry, worry, take a walk, cash a check, grab the phone to warm my pocket, grab the keys, drive, leave it all behind... except for most of it, go all in for a few moments and then change my mind, Prove to myself somehow that I do exist in the same world that you do, make sure that world is not Facebook, remember I am going to die, die.

David: Just remember that your slander is only your sad lazy attempt to deal with hurt. Accept your fate and move on, then it might get better. You are projecting the struggles you have with being who you want to be onto an imaginary woman, only this imaginary woman happens to be fleshy and warm and can be seen by everyone she passes. She will be there whether you conjure her or not. She is only what you make her, but only because she passed you a long time ago. Not worth two minutes. Your friends do not care about you the way real friends should. You can leave them all. Do not worry. GO! Do what feels right to YOU! Just don't kill anyone.

Cyclist

In the last three days I have biked about 120 miles, give or take. My dad got a nice road bike, along with a new home in downtown Santa Ana, so I've been going up there to borrow the bike. There is a very long paved trail that runs along the Santa Ana river from the Huntington Beach coast to Yorba Linda. The first ride I took ran from Santa Ana to Anaheim to Huntington then back to Santa Ana. The next day I took the trail the opposite direction and hit Yorba Linda, then came back. Each ride was just shy of forty miles. Then yesterday I set out for the trail, which is about four miles from my starting point, but I took a different route and never found the trail. I made it to the coast on streets and ended up in Newport. I headed north to Huntington and caught the trail back. After getting off of the trail I got lost. I biked all over Santa Ana until I found some trails. I biked through parks and under railroad tracks and by an archery range. I exited the trail and using my best judgment figured out which direction to go to get back to my parent's house. I ended up in Orange, so I called my dad to find out what the hell I had done. As it turned out, I had been heading the exact opposite direction of where I wanted to go, and at a great speed. The good news was that I was only three or four miles away. I turned around and made it back moments later. I imagine my ride was fifty miles, or more, considering all of the ground I covered. I was out for nearly three hours and had consumed very little water, so when I was done I was drinking a lot of water. But this did not make up for the lack of fluids during the ride, apparently, because for the rest of the night I had a terrible headache and felt weak. I only remember one other time I felt this way, and that was years ago when I experienced my first, and last hangover. After a lot of sleep I feel much better... still not perfect, but I am well enough to be on a stationary bike right now while looking into the bright computer screen.

Tomorrow I have an appointment to see an apartment in Los Angeles. It is an artists community with several open units for $750. I would like for it to work out. I will also look around the area for work. I want to find a Trader Joe's or something, they seem to treat their workers with much more respect than I am used to.

I guess that is all. Goodbye.

One more night of work

I go in for my last night at CVS tonight. These last eight months have been interesting. I am glad to be leaving this job, but I also find myself wanting to see things through. We have been embarking on a big task that I will not be a part of beyond tonight, and I know I would be promoted in a heartbeat if I were to stay. I have gained the respect of my manager and many other people at this store, I have also made a bond with one person there that I will be incredibly sad to lose. I have been very fortunate to have been given this job, and even more fortunate to have been treated so well by some of these people, even though the work atmosphere is harsh, to put it lightly, and kindness is infrequent. I have been acknowledged. How swell. There are now a few people who understand the hard work and intelligence I can bring to a retail operation... I never would have guessed that I would take to this so well. I am here, tooting my own horn, because I am confidant in my abilities. What a feeling. Now the hard part, life. I need to find a new job, and an apartment in Los Angeles. No matter how well I did at CVS, there is little this will get me outside of that store.
It will certainly be nice to be awake for the sunny afternoons, I have missed these dearly. I am very tired as I write this, which may account for the sentimental feeling I have, but I would not like to be well rested without that feeling. I think I am in love with everyone... not really... but a little bit. I would like to tell a short story. There is a lady who works in the beauty department at my store. She gets very little work done, and it is constantly a problem. Her products pile up with no place to go and our whole back room is cluttered with merchandise. Myself and my supervisor cleaned up a large section of the back room, including the area where her overstock is kept. After she saw the results of our work she was elated. This was two nights ago. This morning when she came in to work we were there and she was all smiles, wishing us a happy Thanksgiving, and simply appreciating what we had done. We have both said terrible things about this woman because of her work, or lack thereof.
Another story: There is an evening supervisor who is not a bad worker, but he does not supervise as well as he should. He makes our work harder by letting his crew run around like monkeys. Last night when I went in to work I spoke to him harshly because it was irritating to have him upset about a coke delivery I accepted, so I explained to him that he should get his workers to do the things that need to be done, and not just get upset when they are not done... I am failing to explain this properly, but the point is that I yelled a little at him. This guy is notorious for talking way too long, so the supervisor I work with basically ended the conversation having us both walk away. As we were walking out we said we were going to go get to work and he responded with a heartfelt goodbye. He is a nice guy, and I wish him well, but it is not that great to work with him... or to work after him, really. This guy is hilarious though... mostly in a completely unintentional way. I've had many conversations about him, and how he needs some cameras pointed at him around the clock for a reality show. You'd watch, trust me.
I have learned a lot about dealing with people, working with people, that I never could have learned without this experience. Life is sometimes slightly interesting.

Float Away

There have been two instances tonight where I wanted to float effortlessly. I woke up and was standing in my room knowing I needed to get to the kitchen. I had this feeling as though I wanted my feet to lift a few inches from the floor and have my body drift to the kitchen. Then just a few moments ago I was attempting to look into a cabinet above my closet but could not see from the floor, again I imagined floating up to the proper height to do so. The strange thing about these feelings, the reason I felt it important enough to turn on a computer for and not just pass it off as a very human wish to fly, is that in those moments it did not seem at all illogical. I didn't just want to lift from the ground, I couldn't see why I shouldn't just lift off at the thought of it.
I saw my parents tonight. I am not working tonight, and only have another six nights of work at that old store. It's always nice to see my folks, I also spoke to my good friend Trevor. Interaction with non mental defectives. It had been two days since that had happened. My parents read this blog, they may be the only ones, I am not sure. My last entry mentioned suicide, and they were a little bothered by this. I will now clarify that I have no intentions currently of ending my life. Not now, things are just starting to get somewhat interesting. I think it is important that I live through the move.
I am listening to a lot of Joanna Newsom lately. I have been bringing a small, round speaker to work along with my small, rectangular music player. It makes a world of difference. I only wish I'd thought of this months ago. My last week of work I have assigned myself to clean up our disastrous overstock room. This is a huge job, and one I will likely not complete in a week, but it will be a lot better. This will be my final gift to this store. I also cut in extra facings of certain cigarettes and fixed the shelving... I am just leaving my mark. The mark of intelligence and sanity. There is next to none of this going on there. I may go visit this place after I leave to see how different it is without me. Probably not. This feels boring... I am sure I have now bored my readers, sorry dad. Goodbye.

Two weeks away from a better life... I hope.

I gave my two weeks notice at work. This is part of a larger plan to move to Los Angeles. I do not have a good plan, and have been told so. I will have to work hard to have a life even as dumb as the one I live now. It will take some very hard work to have something better, or maybe I will be the lucky one, I'm counting on it.
I have a supervisor at work who is doing a lot to help me, what a nice guy. He is making calls on my behalf because he gives a shit. That is different. As I write this I look around this room I've so long occupied and it seems impossible to uproot myself, but necessity will be taking the wheel on this one.
Being alive is silly. I find myself listening to Phish again. Now is not the time for me to be nostalgic and sentimental, but of course it's all I can be. I get these feelings as though I want to cry, but I have no idea what over... I look at photographs of my past and I get the feeling, or when a movie ends... Wasted life, the only thing I could point at is my wasted life. I can hear in my own head right now, "You're young." but I disagree. I used to be younger, and that is all that matters.
So tell me, what is my next move? School? Career? Suicide? Homelessness?
Perhaps all of these, in no particular order.
I am confused, which is a very familiar feeling, I could almost call it comforting. I will not call it comforting. I think confusion is a sign that I am headed in the right direction, or at least moving through life. For the last eight months I have stood still. This existence has been demystified, it's time to move on. I just need to hold on to some things from my past to keep myself somewhat sane, I guess that explains all the Phish.
It's going to be tough for about a month and a half now. I need to build a new life almost from scratch, although I have the human parts already, and no assembly required. Dr. Frankenstein can go now, his work here is done. Everything else will require assembly, and the tools are not included in the box.
Metaphoric and cryptic, I guess some things won't change.

Bizee

werkin overtyme evry dey.