Amavert

The Wackness

There comes a time in a life that you, and only you need to make a decision about what you want to be. Who you want to become, what you want others to see you as.
For years, my philosophy has been one of distrust, discord and discontent.
I seek to get away from the hardships of life in drugs, the ordinary ones.
But I frequently overphilosophize, in wake of what will become of me if I don't.
Is there a good thing to be had from a broken heart?
Life went its merry way, my love however cowered away and shunned itself.
Love of life, blame it on a certain drug, seems a far cry from what I used to be.
Honestly, I hate the fact that I am oblivious to my own delusions and hate myself for thinking I wasn't and am not affected. The barriers thrown up in pre-adolescence seem to hold, but a thing like this isn't without its effects, and secondly; do I even want them to?
There is a good thing to come out of heartbreak. I'm stronger now and more apathetic than I ever was. But the inequality of emotion that follows makes me tremble.
My mind seems gray, not only ironically because it actually is, but the colour gray as a metaphor for mindlessness.
I write this because I want to, have to and need to. I write this because this is what I like about myself, my ability to control myself and make up for the things I've done wrong, the people I've wronged and everything else.
As a pathetic excuse, I can't work on honing my body because I simply don't have the power for it. It sheds a veil.
There are weeks full of Sundays before me, waiting to be experienced, days that don't provide.
Remarkably, I haven't met a single woman that catches my eye and I fear that I'll be a bachelor for quite some time to come. Let's see, how long has it been, six months? Yeah, that's about right. And I have nothing to show for it. Used to be that I fell in love with a girl nary every minute or so, but this is a new level of apathy and being picky. 
Never had I ever felt that pain, and I'm an experience richer for it. See life as full of opportunities. Don't see it like you do now.
There are times when silence makes the mind wander. These are the times in which I do my most profound thinking and writing. Unfortunately I never remember any of it discernibly the next morning, which is quite a shame really.
My arrogance sickens me. To think that only I am able to withstand this, that only I have the ability to live through life like this. I could've been a monk for all I care. It maddens me.
Angry? You're damn right I'm angry. And I'll tell you why while I'm at it.
Hypocrisy has its ways with me, I tell others what to do, but don't listen to my own advice.
I guess the best way to tell others what to do is to become a shrink, and, well, what do you know.
I watched The Wackness and it made me sad. Sad to think this kid is so much like me, without the dope part. Socially awkward, no viable experience, and it deeply saddens me that every minute is one minute less.
Maybe if I got my hair cut, and trim my facial hair somebody truly will love me.
But that would mean character suicide.
Maybe that's a good thing?
Leave this stoic shell?
And become someone new?
Not reincarnation or anything, but just become someone you never thought you'd be.
I could be a media mogul, the establishment or king of the world. Easy living.
In your mind you can be anyone you want to be.

Download Kings Of Leon - Closer

Honestly

All this time, I've lived my life in a way of solitude.
Lately, my environment is starting to notice in disgust.
However honest my words may be, they won't follow through.
I live this life, because I predict the rest of my life to be lonely.
I harden myself to such an extent that nothing bothers me anymore.
This however brings with it consequences, that I have only just begun to divulge upon.
Social ineptitude, making the wrong comedic gestures at all the wrong times, beating yourself up for them later.
Only when the mass graves of the world, dug for preservation of space, touch each other through the equinoxes and experience the searing heat of the insides of our world that can't surely be any better than her outsides, will I feel repaired. Whole, in four different ways.
One, physiological healing, my senses come back to me, honed.
Two, psychological healing, my cognitive and occipital abilities return to a previous state.
Three, creative healing, when I'll finally be able to do something that's mine.
Four, physical healing, my body ensured of its colour and texture.
I am an amalgamate of four different people. Hank Moody, Jack Black, Jack White, and Jon Cusack.

Goreng

Everytime I try to write something here, I quickly back away like a deer facing a gun.
But fuck that shit, I'm coming back and my mind is more troubled than ever.
If there ever was a time..

Where to begin.
Where to end, I just..don't know anymore.
Not to say I ever did know.
Just now my mind's criss-crossing thoughts about the 8th.
I have absolutely no appetite to work with a hangover. But hey, at least it's a job.
Back to logistics, to the corporate world where I'm just one of the many gears in the system.
Just doing its part, just doing what it's supposed to. Not being that unique snowflake.
Making a buttload of money while I'm at it.

In a week, I'm eighteen.
So I guess it's time to fess up to this point.
I have a on-again-off-again relationship with myself.
I fear for who I'll become in the future.
I'm desperately searching for something to rock my world.
I've tried major amounts of alcohol, and drugs.
Nothing seems to amaze me.
I'm become more and more silent.
Silent as in dead silent, mute.
I say I observe, when in actuality I'm afraid to talk vainly.
My principles are being thrown out the window by the very society I despise.
I have a big part in that.
I haven't had a succesful female relationship for well over three years now? Or was it four?
I'm afraid of women.
I wait for them to come to me.
I fail.

I'm in desperation way too often.
I mask my desperation with strength and cold stares.
My insides are as weak as ever. And I'm not made of any substance.
I feel empty, a shell of a personality I used to be.
I'm an empty shell made to look like manhood should.
Truth be told, I'm not a man. I'm still very much a child, with childish thoughts.
I'm too young to have felt a woman's touch.
I wanna work on being what I want to.

I've been wanting to be an adult for a long time and acted likewise.
I'm afraid to turn into an adult.
I've been throwing my childhood away by maturing too early in life.
Have I missed out? I think I missed out.

I ride my bike home which sounds very 40-year-old-virginesque, and trust me, it is.
I'm a silly attempt to garner attention, I glisten my puppydog-eyes, in vain hopes that someone, anyone at his point, will take me in.
I end up alone, with my music.

Surely that must mean something.

Red Eighteen

I'm goin' out on a limb when I say I've had an incredible week.
Infeasible attention from women, drunk men and the like, works disasters on souls.
I've missed my guitar ever so greatly, I was air-guitaring the whole week.
I have really gotten better in the last months or so, I started to sing when I play, that's a Chevrolet. The week is coming closer, and my vacation is shortening by the minute. What if?
I'd be lying if I said I feel no stress whatsoever. In fact, I feel quite the same as I once did, and the only thing keeping me from tears is my willpower. I will not set back. Ironic, isn't it?
You think you've made new friends in that week, but in fact, you've only alienated yourself more. I've acted like a fool, but there's no going back and changing that. I'll just have to live with the fact that I'm a drunk, sweaty bastard with a bad temper, easy laugh and no social skills whatsoever. There's basically two kinds of people, the ones who need others around them to be happy, and loners who don't need anybody.
I'm a self-strapped loner with a enormously lonely heart, and I do need people around me to feel happy. I'm fuckin' miserable, and there's almost nothing I can do about it.
Where is that one woman with my ambition, and goals set? She must be out there somewhere, but I might just be too shallow to care.
But do I care, do I really? I thought I was that guy sitting at the bar, waving to others, never giving a fuck about what I was doing, never thinking twice about my actions, an enjoyer of life as it comes. No plan.
Try as I might, I will never be able to let myself go completely. Self-restraint will make sure of that, and others will otherwise.
Let's just forget about the whole thing, and start with a open mind, a tabula rasa, carte blanche, or what you might call it. Set out and see the world with open eyes, instead of just focusing on the here and now, and the me, focus on the world and all its beauty.
I've met people this week, beautiful people, pretty persons, and they fascinate me. I'm generally, genuinely interested in others, but getting a person to lay away their barriers and open up their souls is a tricky business. This might just be the buzz talking, but I loved every single one of you guys. If anything where to happen, I don't know what I'd do. I'm attached. Step one.
Catching up with this week, it has not been the week I had hoped it to be, like Tido, I would've liked to find a girl this week, but alas, I was to busy putting myself out there to notice anything mildly of interest.
Let's put it behind us.

Fuck this

Just when you'd think I was over all this I go and live a dream so vividly like I did a few moments ago.
I'm in a tournament, and you're up next. I won my bout, and prepare myself for the joys I will get from seeing you fight. But minutes before, you're nowhere to be found. And I just lay there in the adjecent pool.
Then, all of a sudden, you spout out with two friends and give the bosses the scare of their lives. I cop a feel and you retire to the back of the pool.
An elderly black man steps up to me and opens his mouth.
Sex Machine by James Brown is heard, and he starts to dance.
And it's making me want to as well.
So I climb this ledge and all of a sudden, the ledge is further and further away from the soothing calmness of the water. And you're watching me for a change.
I start to do the same dance high up on that ledge, without falling off. I do some abdominal excersises there.
Then it hits me, what a fool I have been. Quick, this has gone on long enough.
And I throw myself from the ledge into a downward spiral, seemingly endless-flip, dive.

Forty-Two Hours

The rain is light.

It drizzles the windows in a thin fog. And it draws me inside.

Uncomfortably though, the temperature doesn't seem to drop in here.

The warmth particles dance their way around the room, and it makes me nauseous.

The airconditioning is turned off. I'd best turn it on, later perhaps. Someone just entered through the door.

The feeling I'm having of pubescently needing to work but not working is mixed with a fine aroma of disgust for this place.

Yes, I make a lot of money here. But I can make a lot of money anywhere I want to soon. This is different, this is unjust.

I'm patronised to such an extent that I only boil with rage everytime I see the man. I hate to sound condescending, but yeah.

But didn't you choose this line of work in the first place?

Yes, I did. But he applied me for a whole month, maybe that was overdoing it.

I'm starting to feel a rupture in my infallible state of mind. I'm tired as fuck.

Working two jobs is something I will never wish on to anyone. My life feels comatose.

Work-Eat-Rest-Sleep.

The vicious circle so many of us are in. For the rest of their life.

I should be thankful for the fact that I'm out of here in exactly two days.

I should be thankful I resigned my other job, so I'm out of there in four days.

I should be thankful I'm making money and spending my time with something worth doing.

I think I'm going to bore myself next week.

 

Unwanted

I pretend I don't exist.
Or at least, that's what I want myself to believe.
Yes, I live my life, walk my miles, but nothing seems to register.
There isn't a real spark, so to say. I might not, just as well.
I want to be verbose, not hyperhydrosic, and live as usual.
But I'm missing something, puzzle pieces of my heart, scattered throughout the entire world.
I'll travel the world, mean something to someone, to myself and learn to love.
But right now? I'm lonely as fuck, and I have a right mind to go and take a trip with mr. Daniels and mr. Cuervo. That's been a while.
And I, truly, hate sympathy for the gist of it. Just to have someone to comfort. I've been doing that for far too long to everyone. So don't even try to humour me.
I'm not trying to be mean, but it just comes out that way.

I need to start over.

Seven Score And Ten

A new start, like comin' out of rehab.

That's what I wrote, one day, not knowing those words would sum up the core of my existence.

It's making a fresh start. Feeling every finger search for the right key to put itself on.
It's like I never touched a keyboard in my life. Which is a lie, obviously.
My voice is harrowing from deep down, like my gut's entrenched.
Drunken, balding men screaming through the speakers into my head, telling me to search for the things to say.
But enough about my regular, old Saturday.

It's been more than two years.
It's been 149 articles already.
Maybe I should let this rest.

I'll let it all come my way gently.
Sooner or later, I will have to face facts.
That I've been an emotionally challenged man.
And I will have to learn, learn to make friends again.
Learn how to trust people more, how to be more open.
But first, there is a time for R&R, and that time is within a week's distance.

I'm desperately seeking affection.
And that's not a new thing, not by a long shot.
My air is made up from grumble and stone. My heart isn't.

I'm tired of watching myself whine from a distance, tired of all the lies and deceit.
It's high time for some me-time.
Fuck forty-one hour working weeks.
Let's get wasted and dance 'till dawnbreak.

The Dream

From concert to party, the night was awry.
I had been up all day, and had a hard night.
My legs couldn't hold me anymore when it was time to start the show.
I stood in a crowded place, on a withered plane.
Terrific as that night was though, I could have never prepared for what I would wake up to the next morning.
Sure, the party was that night, but nothing else really mattered, did it?
It was one of those mornings.
I had made sure one of my friends took over my shift at work.
I could sleep all day.
But as usual with that biological clock ticking away,
I woke up at seven.
But, just the way I like it, I slumber through the morning.
Awake one minute, gone the next, every episode bringing a new dream with it.
The last dream made me shiver.

I had hosted a party.
All my friends were there.
You were there. You used to be there. One time.
In a blur, everyone got up and left.
If it wasn't for you, and some others, there'd be no one in the place.
And just as if it was nothing, you all too, went.
Goodbye kisses and standard procedures.
And I'm kissing this girl I know, feeling nothing.
I see you walking by and I see you looking.
I call you out: 'what about me?', is what I say.
And without any restriction or hesitation, you jumped me.
It was passionate, raw, sweet and soft. Animalistic power.
And for the first time in years I truly felt happy.
I woke up, bathing in my sheets, thinking about whatever went wrong.

You were suprised because I was the only one who didn't love you like others always did.
Superficial, shallow and concentrated on the exterior. Face it, you're a looker.
Never did I knew this, that I was unique in that one thing I never wanted to be unique in.
But I was neither of those things, your inside is what matters to me.
Hopeful?
For a moment, yes.
Life ain't over, boys and girls.

I Feel Like Such A Tit

"Always Be"

Could've been a night like any other
One of us has to drive
One of us gets to think
I'll force a laugh to break the silence
It's gonna get harder still
Before it gets easy
You can't keep safe what wants to break

I'm alone in this
I'm all as I've always been
Right behind what's happening
She's all lost in this
She's all like she'll always be
A little far for me to reach

I was just a boy like every other
I thought I was something fierce
I thought I was ten times smarter
Love would be something that I just know
(Something I just know)
How you gonna know the feeling till you've lost it
I've been losing plenty since

I'm alone in this
I'm all as I've always been
Right behind what's happening
She's all lost in this
She's all like she'll always be
A little far for me to reach

Maybe something else I'm missing
Something good and you're the reason
It's a dream but there's a real world waiting

I'm alone in this
I'm all as I've always been
Right behind what's happening
She's all lost in this
She's all like she'll always be
A little far for me to reach

I'm alone in this
I'm all as I've always been
Right behind what's happening
She's all lost in this
She's all like she'll always be
A little far for me to reach

I see now,
this should never have happened.
I feel remorse for the things I've done, the way I've expected others to act.
I thought I knew it all, but still,... to no avail.
A complicated game, but one I'm determined to play out 'till the very end.
My hand is glitching, my work makes me tense. Who am I kidding, everything makes me tense. I'm tightly wound and I know the reason.
My conscience isn't in the clear.
I have to apologize.
Tell her I'm sorry.
Sorry.

This should've never taken place in my time.
I've royally screwed myself and the relationship over three ways from sunday.
Why she won't even so much as speak to me, I can only guess.
My preliminary reason? The openness.
Telling someone you love them is one thing, but overindulging yourself in phantasmal wordplays and actual corporal expressions? Yeah, that tends to come over a tad bit overwhelming.
Also, in comes the fact that she's in love with another.
I can't fix that, try as I might. Not without illegal business.
But that's not a real idea. Or a real threat.
Oh your god, am I willing to do anything for this woman?!

A Laurel and Hardy moment away from 'Now look what you made me do!'.
And my pain still stands to ease. The sounds that reach me fill my chest with echoes.
It's over, and I have to deal with the fact that I will never see her, or my other friends that I've made in those few short, too short years, ever again.
Because who knows, maybe a year from now, when the reunion is coming up, I'll be somewhere else, in a better place in the world.
Maybe I'll be living my dream out loud, of in that faraway land where it's always chilly.
As if the climate was made for people with light hyper-hidrosis symptoms, like me.

And it pains me, to see such sorrow in myself, in others around me who feel the same way as I am sure they do. Not everyone's a social pariah.
Somehow seeing this thing evolve in me, the love I've had for so long with no recipient, makes me wonder if this is a part of human psychology.
Learning to deal with heartbreak is, I think, the closest one could ever get to the meaning of life.
I feel bad for setting you up for this situation.
I know you feel bad inside as well, as any other great person would do.
Empathic as that may be though, I've been playing games for far too long.
It's undying, and I'll remember the shit out of you.
That's one thing that's for sure.

Later,
Joe