Morbid Angst

I don't know what to write I just know I should and I know I'm upset.

Sometimes I just want to cry, cry for this life cry for my lonliness.
It's so tough knowing you're gonna be gone, then wasting away the little time you have.
It's painful, so painful it makes you want to hurt something.
But that's just what it wants you to do, give in to the pain, give in to your will.
Why should I let my emotions govern my actions?
Listening to little voices in my head would leave me a bloody mess, laying in the blood of those around me.
Such pain, such power, such a will to kill.
It hurts with every beat, every painful beat.
Is it really easier to end it all, to just give up and fuck off?
Why am I still here, time ticks and I sit and wait for the explosion.
I want to paint with blood, I want to feel their pain.

Shut the Fuck Up.

There is a really really big picture and we are but little dots in the far top left corner. The dots that we are, however, are so small that we would easily be mistaken for cheetahs or even buffalo. And as we pan outward we see that it is not the only picture on the wall, but a collection of millions. Some of these pictures look very similar, and infact many of them are more then likely identical. But who cares?

Murin

I have no use for time.

In the complete history of clocks there are only three that stand out as truly remarkable clocks, however, if you were to include watches as clocks there would be many more. Today we will focus primarily on the three clocks. Enjoy.

Clock #1: The Polish Foot Clock, Shmuntirple
Shmuntirple was made by a poor farm boy that lived in southern Turkey in the late 1870's. The design represents that of many Polish Foot Clocks, but what sets Shmuntriple apart is its use of common household items in very remarkable ways. The entire hulirt gear has been replaced with a full size violin, although this effects the crank-shaft of the riddit chain, this was by passed by also including a live chicken in place of a dulent. (The current chicken in Shmuntirple is a descendant of the original.) You can find Shmuntirple in the Swiss National Museum of Trinkets and Bovine.

Clock #2: The Canadian Mossewich, Jurji
Jurji comes from the Arabic word that has nothing to do with "Smooth Movement" and it shows amazingly in its design. Jurji was created in the year 2003 by Canadian scientists in search of a way to keep the ice in their freezers from melting at 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Although the Scientist did not accomplish what they set out to do they did engineer a clock that uses a series of math equations to figure out the time in 31 seconds and then subtract 31 seconds to find the current time. Many people believe this is the first step to successful time travel. You can find Jurji at the Canadian Museum of Below Freezing Numbers and Thing They Create.

Clock #3: Murin
Close to nothing is known about Murin. Murin was found in an old garage of a man named Schmirkims Oswald. He claimed it was a coo-coo clock but when the time reached the hour nothing happened. This is a very bizarre phenomenon and can still be witnessed to this day. There have been extensive studies on the cause of this but none have come to a definite answer. Some say that Murin is actually a sign from god. Others say that every hour Murin sends a mysterious race of aliens a signal, reporting the happenings of earth. Today you can't actually see Murin; it is in a top secret holding facility somewhere south of Gnome Alaska.

Let Me Out

Slice my wrists as they catch on the barbed wire
Bleeding as I sit here waiting for you
I see that you never cared, you never cared
So now I'm just left here waiting
Left here dying, I'll always be waiting for you

I wake up with no one beside me, ever beside me
Always looking for you, always waiting for you
My head has never hurt so much
Why do I even put up with your shit?
Why am I left waiting for a girl that never was quite there?

Left for dead I lay here dreaming of a perfect world
Pizza for breakfast with you at the table
Why am I waiting? I've already found the perfect world
This dream is so torturous as I wake up and hurt my head
What’s the point in waiting for someone who isn't there?

Find me a poet and I'll write you one thousand words
Find me a cockroach and my love will last forever
You can't kill a cockroach, but poets die for fun
I've never known life until I you made it unbearable
I've never seen the light until you left me in the dark

Never leave me out again; the rain eats at my soul
Its not much more the a damp crumbling cookie
Mice won't come near as I drown my sorrows in blood
I'm as dry as a muffin, never tasted but thrown out
For a perfect world you seem so dead, too dead

How can you live this life with no Idea of who I am?
Can you please at least morn my infinite passing?
I may not be gone but you'll be around forever
Never let my name fade with you diamond tears
Always let me pas you by never let me stay

Blank White

As I sit here staring at my blank white ceiling,
Why am I existing in this melencholy world of mortals?
Day to pointless day watching disgustingly happy people walk to and fro.
I ask for Heaven,
Heaven has no need for someone as dangerously undetermined as I.
I settle for Hell,
Hell doesn't want anybody with such adimintine thoughts that I posses.
I live in this world,
This world of death and decay,
This world of hope and joy.
Here I am forever abandoned in this lonely paradise.
Is there nothing I shouldn't desire here?
Nothing I should not want?
My ancient life is in this world of newborns,
I struggle everyday to keep my miserable place,
As I wrestle with wanting to fly.
I am friendly.
I am deadly.

Sweet Ireland

Sweet Ireland, sweet Ireland
May you be forever beauty, forever mine
My Ireland, my love, you'll always be in my thoughts
Tears for rain, an embrace like that of warm spring
Ireland never let me leave your arms, keep me in your heart
A breeze of sweet whispers, eyes like the lush green hills
You are my own, my sweet Ireland

The Walk

Table lamp snow shade,
Turned on for its enemy,
Lighting the way of the cigarette,
It burns with the sting of alcohol,
Making things ever so enjoyable.

Star mirrored ponds,
Flicker with the slightest drop,
The blood is from a raven,
Dark in flight,
We run from ourselves.

Little brown outlines,
Around a delicate hand,
Caressing an ever-sharp blade,
Shimmering in the moonlight,
Illuminating the way home.

The Toast

These are the toasts for the wanderers
The men and women without a place
The ones who seek out the truth
Whether in their soul or on their path

This toast is for the searchers
Those who are in a constant hunt
May your goal always be but a step away,
And your eyes never grow dull

This toast is for the oracles
Those who can see more then they choose
May your path forever be seen,
And your feet never question your mind

This toast is for the warriors
Those who tend toward a good fight
May your journey tend toward battle,
And your sword never miss your mark

This toast is for the travelers
Those who wish to see the world
May your views constantly be exquisite,
And your path never lead to harm

This toast is for the poets
Those who harness the pen
May your script eternally tell of joys,
And your grief never entrap you

These are the toasts to the wanderers
The men and women without a place
May you ever be able to find the truth
And grace forever guide you on your path

Near Life Experiences

As I walk home it hits me. I suddenly feel as if I'm walking through sea of syrup. Breathing gets just as hard. Every breath I take only makes my legs move so slow. Everything is slow motion now, except my thoughts, and the surronding world. I'm being left behind, the world moves and I stand still, what is going on? Oh that’s right, this is life, it only happens once. And as I am stuck in this thick tar the rest of the world zooms by, wasteing all their preciuos breathes and heartbeats on some meaningless task or another. And here I am, wasting my time twice as fast, and tripping over myself because of it. This is our only chance, you can't go back. I've told myself hundreds of times, live to be alive. But why am I not doing it? How many people go through life without appriciating it? How many people have never seen death and walked away to live? Not nearly as many as should. When you are about to kill yourself and turn away, you gain another view of life. But it is still far better if something almost kills you. You can control yourself, you can't control fate. How would you react if you almost burned to death? How would you live if you knew you were about to die? Would you care? Only about things that truly deserved it. The fact is, not a lot of people know our mortality, and it kills them. Literally.

Photoliftus

I have nothing new to write, my senses are void of emotion. I am at the giant wall, once called photoliftus, but now it stands there, blank and hideous. As I confront this wall I am frightened, not by the shear expanses of it, but much more the void of details it creates. This is no ordinary wall, it has been known to eat artists who venture too close. And now here I am, on the edge, questioning all of my work before this point. This wall is not just an end, but it is the deciding point between art, and mechanical logic. On either side is the fruit of the imaginations of millions, but if you look closely you can see the faces of thousands of expressionless persons, perfectly content with their spot on the wall. No. I will not become one, even if it means losing my mind to keep my art, sacrifices will be made, but I will never sacrifice my freedom of thought.

The Big Deal

Have a good day all you mother fuckers! Why are we even hanging out in this dump still? We never did have a proper pad and you house certainly isn't much better. Anywho I was thinking we move this entire operation down to the warehouses, you know, the ones that have the murals on the side. Anyway once we get there we need to start dealing with some real shit. Not just the cookies we're used to. A big thing is we get rid of all these middle men, just up and make them "disappear", if you get what I mean. Take 'em for a nice long walk. Next we don't use any phones, every time you say "Bomb" or any of the like, a little light turns on somewhere. We have the numbers to make this go down, but we'll need fire power too. I can get us a shipment of Glocks and AKs, everyone keep a Glock on you and we're going to keep the AKs around the warehouse. We don't ever refer to each other or the base. You will only know your bothers, and sister, by the name of an animal of their choice, no one else will know this name, not family or friends, not even the girl you fuck every night. This shit will work, and if even a single one of you feels like screwing the rest of us over. I will personally remove you're kidneys, along with any other organs I see fit.

No, the other Logan

Nobody really knows me; there are so many different levels to me. Sure there are many people that think they know who I am, But does everyone know the Logan that feels like torturing people and sentencing them to slow death. Or the Logan who plays with kittens and other small fuzzy animals. Or even the Logan that wants to get so messed up he won't even remember how to walk. Sure there are all these Logans, but how many of them do you know? There are even more I haven’t found, or that I'm hiding from the world.

Today marks my two-month count down, I'm a little lost though. I still have to make contact with a lot of people and start pulling everything together. Right now I don't even have any of my travel visas set up. And it really looks like I won't be able to get them processed until I get over seas. This is definitely going to be an interesting trip. Full of new stuff, I'm going to learn a lot.

Death in Eyesight

An alternative for suicide. I don't plan on coming back; I've already begun thinking about all my stuff to give away. It all makes so much sense as of late. When I planned this trip I was suicidal, the trip is insanity, dangerous, and apparently I hope I don't make it. It's been an underlining emotion for way to long, dormant as to my perception. I never put it into my thoughts but it's always been there, hiding, trying to evade my detection, and the detection of others. I've just now seen it, through my depression, through my plans, through my thoughts. I've always said that I wanted to be gone for longer, who would have thought longer meant forever? I now see places in my trip where I will get killed for the money that I have, I will get killed for just the supplies you'll be able to recover off of my dead body. And does that scare me? Nope, I know these things and I'm not afraid because I've been wanting to die. This sounds horrible, but is it really that far off from the truth?

I need something to come back to, something to drive me through insanity and depression. But what do I have? Nothing. I feel like there is nothing for me. I don't know what there is.

French Toast

Chicken noodle, French poodle.
All my life I've been breathing, not bleeding.
Never having an end to call home, never having a place to call home.

Apple pie, people lie.
Forever will I be wandering, not waiting.
I don't care where we go, I don't know where we go.

Grilled steak, my mistake.
Eternity comes with a great ordeal, not order.
Sometimes I just want to be myself, sometimes I just want to kill myself.

Hot dog, floating log.
Hell is for all those bastards, not bathtubs.
War will help us love each other, war will help us destroy each other.

Tripping on Life

People ask me about my trip, so I tell them about it. I'm going around the world, starting in Ireland and finishing in Japan. I tell them how long it is going to take and, if they ask, the order in which I'm going to visit all the countries. Most people get excited, as if they were going to be right there with me, and then they ask how I feel about it. When they here my answer I think they hate me more then any one thing they have ever known. My answer is this: I am absolutely disgusted by my trip. For most people they need to know why, mainly because they are much more excited about it then I am, and my only answer is: I don't know. When I say that I'm usually laughing, only because I can actually hear myself, but due to the laughing people don't know if they should take me seriously or not.

Who knows, it may not be my trip, it may just be my life. But truly where does one stop and the other begin? It seems as if my trip is becoming my life, and quite frankly in less then three months it will be my life. Maybe I'm in a transit period, one where I still hate my old life but my new life has yet to start producing things that I should appreciate.

Then again I could be looking at this all wrong... maybe I am really just lonely, maybe I realize this and also realize that by going on this trip I'm going to be lonely for the next six months of my life. Maybe I don't want to go around the world by myself, perhaps I am actually afraid of it. This could be a little voice inside me saying that I still fear the end, whichever end I may create. Maybe this is suicide.

Never and Ever Again

Sometimes I can hardly believe myself. Sometimes I can hardly look at my future.
It is always painful. It is always a challenge to take another step.
Never let me out of your sight. Never let me be alone.
All those blunt forces make me feel at home. All I want is another hit to the head.

Lodge Your Complaints

Just stand by yourself, stand with yourself.
I'll be in the corner, bleeding as you twist the dagger.
You look right through me, while I stare right at you.
But all you ever cared about is yourself, yourself.

Do you even remember those nights, those hideous nights?
Curled up with you, now I'm curled up with my bloody sheets.
But you never cared about me, you are the world.
Maybe some other time you'll see me for who I am, I am

The pain is there and won't leave, please leave.
My heart beats like a clock, blood with every tic.
But now I give up, you'll just walk away.
I was just a sprinkle of rain, of rain.

Three Months

Holy shit, I'm going to be leaving in three months... I am going to be wandering around on the other side of the world in three months. It finally fucking hit me. I'm going to be traveling around the world for six months. I am going to be pretty much homeless for six months. I have to get everything pulled together in the next three months. Three fucking months! This is insane. I barely know what is even going on anymore. This is so fucking crazy; I can hardly believe I'm leaving in three months. I HAVE THREE MONTHS LEFT WITH EVERYTHING I KNOW AND LOVE.

Death Love You

One day walking down my throat, I caught a glimpse of the massive abyss. Seeing this I shot myself. I woke up with my head throbbing much like an over used bass line in some stupid hip-hop song. Raising myself to the stars the truth comes out. Where are we? Not on Earth but some other rock, a rock with no mission. Alas when the end came it was not I, but rather you crashing into the sun. My sun, why must you destroy my sun? The thread of time unravels like a poorly knit sweater, all the colors make you want to vomit, but refrain, for you hold fate itself within you. The glasses look two ways; one is a picture of my dismembered body, strung up by various arteries hanging from eternity. The other way I see a small girl, holding a loaded gun to her head and watching as her brains paint the sunset. Neither is what I wish. From here on out you hear nothing but my screams. Screams of the damned, screams of the righteous. All those little papers mean nothing at this point and have already turned to dust. This dream of eternity is not mine, it is truth. You may know the way but you can never follow it. You must always remember when you're bleeding yourself dry: Death love you.

Sitting, Bleeding in a Corner

My love, my life, my one and only life.
Where has this time wasted you? I can't find you.
Somewhere you bleed, somewhere you are gone, somewhere, but where?
My life leads to an alley with a chain link fence, no escape, just an end.

My Pants are Nifty

The coffee table is really ugly where you put it.
Maybe if we put our coats on the door it would make more sense.
But truly in the monkey tail business we have nothing to give up.
Just sit down and have a drink, in the end we'll see the stars.
But truth be told, we are in the wrong room, this is insanity.
Insanity is the creative part of the mind stabbing the rest.
Last night a car hit my left-brain,
My right brain laughed as it watched its partner strewn about a windshield.
The glass cuts like a knife in a bag full of monkeys.
We lost the barrel, but the beer made its way here without a problem.
Questions have never been answered without first thinking.
Thinking is a terrible waste of money, think about it and leave a dollar.
All my money was spent on cheap whores and cattle.
Roasted pork is much like what my lungs look like, I eat lungs.
Doctors were never called but the wound seems to be stitched.
Long time flying, left me with a plane full of drugs.
When the butterflies leave me alone I'll let you have your share.
Nonsense is such a waste of time, follow directions and be enveloped by chaos.
Princesses' have never seen something so hideously beautiful.
My legs might have fallen off but my mind is what removed them.
The crazed penguins have no ears.

Dream Shop

Shelves upon shelves of random unused thoughts.
Just remember where things go and begin your sleep.
It never matters where you are, you'll always get the sweet dream discount.
Twenty percent on the dollar never was as good as it sounds.
But that's the sweet dream discount, for one and all.
Tuesday is the one exception; it’s always two for one Tuesday.
Next week we may have a better deal but today it's still the sweet dream discount.
When you wake up you won't recall where you saw this.
But please come back, you'll always get the sweet dream discount.

The Sweet Road to Discontent

Two days ago I was perfectly content. I thought it was one of the best things in the world. I was wrong. I had the feeling that everything was exactly how it should be and that I'm perfectly fine where I am. Those thoughts would have been the end of the Logan we know and love. With those thoughts manifesting themselves deep within myself I set it up for me to stop being random, depressed, and creative. Today I got rid of it all, I had someone punch me in the face. It wasn't a hard punch, but it was definitely a punch, I did it to prove alternate realities. But it actually helped me remove my contentment. When I felt the pain, I realized that is what I want to feel. I don't want to feel some numbed up world where everything will always be the same. I don't want shortened emotions, cut down for pure efficiency of mind. I want triple chocolate marble with peanut butter cups, not the generic chocolate. I want to live. I want to feels things like no one else ever has. (This I feel almost impossible, but why not, eh?) Contentment may be for those who are settled down, but for me, give me pain or give me death.

Motionless Fall

The rain echoes on the roof of the tall grey building, making the edge so slippery. As he paces back and forth he knows either way wouldn't matter at this point. But here fate had to show up. The rain. He decides he walks until he slips, whichever way he falls that is where he was meant to go. As he slowly circles the perimeter of the roof he thinks to himself, it's pointless to go on any further, is it not? Why would it matter, he had reached such a content position in his life that he could go or stay, neither would matter to him. But perhaps it was a sign that he got stuck on the roof, maybe fate was giving him a nudge, or maybe God was testing him. Either were valid options, and both fought for supremacy in his head. The arguments mostly led to him thinking of God as a created character, set in place to explain the afterlife and make way for discrimination. Whoa. That was close, the slip almost landed him on the roof, but he caught himself, he starts walking faster. What drove him to the roof anyways? Was it that mysterious girl that left so many unanswered questions, the one that seemingly disappears whenever he tried to get close? She took the stairs, but obviously not to this floor. Why was it raining anyways? This morning it was sunny, nice weather actually, that’s the only reason why he was wearing his grip less sandals. Seems like fate may be the cruel mistress today. So much for that, he closes his eyes and starts walking.

Black Creativity

Why do you think you can get away with that forced creativity? How long do you think it could last? Make the day a drunken day and take the shot to your head. While the blood runs through your hair you'll never forget my hands. Why is this called being alive? Why are we still standing here? Just pick up the phone and dial my number, click. All the flames pour out of you house, I watch you leave in a puff of smoke. Later, much later we'll all wonder why is it that you left. How is the sky falling today? Isn't today the end of days? Will there be a tomorrow? Not for you, not for me, but that is but a choice, click. When you see the shards the blood will flow. Down we go, down we'll flow. The dark tunnel has no end, yet we still see the light. Tonight is no different, just the same old thing. One more trick, one more taste. Every morning we still wake up, wishing we were gone. Left to our own devices we are gone.

March of the Emotion

Floating through walls, falling down the abyss. Which way is eternity? Is there anything next? Blood seeps through the cracks, red like velvet, orange like the setting sun. Where is this leading? How much will we give up? Let us remember the heroes, everyone can slay a dragon. Next time the shots will be fired, we will find the truth. Forever will come and go but we will still be here. The eternal standoff, never ending. In those days the moon will have no color, but the sky red blood will speak for itself. Please listen to your fate, avoiding it will leave you crying tears of crimson. In the end the bullet hole will speak for itself, you just have to listen. We don't want you here.

Shotgun Girl

Verse 1:
Long blond hair blows in the wind
The question still lies within spoiled truth
My love is close at hand, so close at hand
This is my passion, my life, my shotgun girl

Verse 2:
Drops of blood follow in my path
Never finding an end to this rotten road
Always searching, always screaming, never leaving
This is my insanity, my hate, my shotgun girl

Verse 3:
Smoke fills the room with a sudden stench
Where is this place that I have left?
The one who knows sees with the third eye
This is my end, my end, my end

Chorus:
Shotgun girl please leave it be?
Where’ve you gone my shotgun girl?
Shotgun girl you've hurt my head
Please don't leave me my shotgun girl

Cursed

I've walked this same path 382 times in the past six months. How do I know it's been that many times? I actually don't know, it just occurred to me. It would seem like I'd stick out like a sour thumb, with my long curly hair, and lack of coat, it's late December now and well below 40 degrees. Maybe my presence has finally been accepted and the people know when I'll be there. Maybe they notice when I'm not walking the usual path. But really why do I care anymore? They really never interacted with me, no more then a smile and a nod, but now nothing. Have all there feelings gone cold with the seasons? Perhaps, I never returned much more then a nod, really what can I expect? It's beginning to rain. I should head back home, but why? I know very well that in a matter of hours I'll find myself right back here, walking the same route for the 383rd time. It's almost funny to think about it, I hate this route so much yet I am trapped inside it. I don't even remember home anymore... It's almost as if I never go home. The only thoughts I can recall I have thought right here, on this worn path. Do I ever even go home? I can't seem to even be able to place a finger on the place I once lived, do I still live there? It seems like I've had this monologue before, but when? Everything blends itself so horribly together; I no longer even have much sense of time, or even day... Is it Wednesday? No, that was three days ago, but I know it's not Saturday. It doesn't matter anymore; I stopped having plans a while ago when I got stuck in the cursed loop. Neither days nor time has any meaning to me anymore. I'm free for a time, but what cost is that freedom?

The 1988 Ford Ranger screeched to a halt, but it was too late. There on the ground lay a young man, in nothing but a t-shirt and pants. His eyes did not look dead but you could tell he had already departed.

My Ears Hurt

The other day I was at work and I heard an extremely loud silent noise. Now this noise wasn't a sound but more like a moving lack of sound. It traveled through the my vicinity for a short while and it really hurt my head, not in the painful way but more in the "Wait, what's going on?" sort of way. Now it wasn't even like I was in a little vacuum that removed all sound from the room, in fact I could still hear the kitchen noises in the next room. Some may think that I'm just going crazy and my head was playing a trick on me but I think I actually heard this. (Or didn't hear it.)

That loud noise that you can't hear, it's fate.

I Said Thunked

Sometimes I'll be walking around at night and I'll see something. Now what I see is nothing strange or unusual it's just sorta nifty things that remind me of other things. Now usually what it reminds me of is creating something. I never know what it just kinda sparks this creative drive that lies deep within meself. Usually I'll just think toward this general creativity and try to figure it out. I never do. More often then not I'll come home and start typing, in here most often. But after about five or seven minutes I lose my creative movement and delete everything leaving meaningless little posts sticking around for all to ponder. I really wish I had a better creative outlet, a thing that I could work on every time I felt like I do at night. Maybe I could fix up a workspace in my garage... that could be nifty.

I think way too much sometimes... I think and then I think of other people’s thoughts, and I make some up for them... The sad part, after I'm done thinking for them I don't think they like me very much. Now if you followed that it would be a great example of thinking too much, and I think more then that sometimes too! I try to figure out what everyone thinks of certain situations and where there motivation was to act. In the end of my processes I come up with some very elaborate scenarios where people think slightly more then I would have in the same situation making them all have secret agendas that no one else knows about until I find it out by thinking about it.

Okay now if you follow what I just said I think you can have ten points unless you thought I thunked it first.

Dooba Shenshen Ton

Dundee dooba chinshi ton.
Chinshi tooba dundat.
Jakka chin dis datbur.
Kilin dooda shenti.
Shenshen dooba ton.
Jakka jakka.
Yuhun, tooba ton.

Plain White Button Shirt

Today a girl asked for my shirt, so I gave it to her. I really didn't need it. And it gave me a chance to steal one of the shirts from work, which are kinda nifty. Well I'm tired right now; I hope you have a good night.

When someone asks for something, ask yourself who would appreciate it more.

Concrete Cube

"Take the knife and slit your throat." The voice over the intercom was cold and direct, just the tone almost compelled the man to do so. As the man picks up the knife he can feel the cold tempered steel against his fingers. He holds the knife up and can see his dark brown hair framing his pale sweaty face. "You have no reason to live. What is keeping you here?" The voice's tone does not change; every word moves the knife closer to his throat. "What about my future? Is there nothing there?" The mans words are quiet, choked out of his throat. He looks to the dull intercom speaker on the bare concrete wall for a response. Silence. The man starts sobbing, "What has happened to me? Why am I here? What has buried me this deep?" The mans hands are trembling so much that he drops the knife. The clang against the concrete floor is almost totally drowned out by the mans sobbing. He stumbles toward the wall and slumps down in a position only a lifeless limp body should be able to fall into. The sobbing slowly stops. "Take the knife and slit your throat." The voice cuts the silence like a rifle shot, startling the slumped form into a more rigid position. Slowly the man stands up and walks over to the stainless steal blade lying on the ground. "Is this what you want? Will this solve it all!" He picks up the knife and plunges it into his throat just below his Adams apple. Gurgling sounds fill the room as the man slowly drowns in his own blood. The man slowly drags himself over to the plain gray wall and starts pounding on it in desperation. He finally slumps down onto the floor never to be tormented.

That last one isn't so peachy.

Refrigeration isn't a miracle, it's Freon!
Why fear death when you can enjoy life?
If you don't have a squeeze bottle you're pretty much screwed.
My mind brains have melted to a crisp.
Don't eat the shiny leaves, they make your mouth sting.
My will to live has imploded along with my right mind.

Caution to Some Readers

How many people can tell you exactly how they would kill themselves if they were ever pushed to suicide? I bet it's either more then you think or far less then you think. I know exactly how I'd go about it, I would find a rather solid surface and bash my head against it until my skull collapsed and crushed my brain. You needn't worry about me going about this because I know very well that I never will.

Some of you may ask as to why the bashing. Well frankly slitting your wrists would probably be equally messy but it would take too much time, you can bleed for a very long time before you pass out. And I wouldn't like to take pills or overdose on anything because; first I'm very anti-drug as far as my own body goes. And second because it seems like it would be too painless, slipping into sleep doesn't seem like all that real of a way to go. How many people have died that way thinking they'll wake back up? Jumping would prolly be my second choice if the building were tall enough. Just tall enough to be able to come to grips with what you've done and then splat! Instant death. (You hope.) Anywho bashing my head in would be the choice because you have to physically continue to do it, you really have to want to die to keep hitting your head against the wall after you watch your blood splatter all over. With every hit you have to have a reason, otherwise what's going to keep you going?

01111000

I was thinking of a movie today, it would be pretty cool to write it all out and then sell it to a big movie maker but knowing me it may never happen. Anywho the following is a real sketchy outline.

One day Lars (The main character) receives a mysterious note mentioning Meg, his close friend that disappeared about a month before. Although he remembers her almost no one else seems to. He quickly starts his quest to find the writer of the note and as he does he starts to notice very strange occurrences in his everyday life. When he finds the note writer he also finds out that this place he thinks is reality is in fact a simulation created by the Russian government to place agents into a setting where they could learn to fit into the American public. This simulation consists of both Human brains plugged into the network and a series of artificial intelligences that have been programmed in. The note writer (Jules) explains to Lars the significance of the network and why they must shut it down.

Okay I know that that sounds pretty lame and just a take off of the Matrix, but it will be different. I can't really begin to say too much about it unless I wanted to pretty much type out the whole story. It should be really interesting and more then likely will have lots of guns explosions and other just trippy stuff.

Haiku

What is life, really?
Seriously, what is it?
It doesn't matter.

Knock, knock...

The door slams. She's gone. But how gone is she really? She's done this before, but it seemed so real this time. Maybe it really is over. Could it be? This time it certainly felt real. Isn't that what he wanted? No. No, he loved her. But what does that matter anymore? She's gone for good. He really messed up this time. He doesn't care that much, it was important but it's gone out the window, along with his stereo and TV. If he knows it's over then why does he feel so bad? She must have been more then either of them thought. It's okay he thinks he can do just fine without her. We will see.

So what, it's been like three weeks now? She really isn't coming back. And to top it off she had her phone disconnected. He looks pretty bummed about it all. Well he said he could deal without her, he's probably just a little lonely. He should get over it once he starts going out again. But until then he'll just be pouting around for a while. Maybe he could go out and get another TV and stereo.

She moved north, back with her parents. She's taking it a little better then him, she's moving on. Yeah but what a jerk he's been, hasn't even tried to call her. She'll probably give him a call in the next few weeks. She's trying to hide her emotion, she does it well, but it's still eating her up inside. Sometimes only time can heal. Or maybe she needs to talk to him.

He's still no better. He did started going to bars, but even then he just drinks until they kick him out. Maybe he'll meet someone. No, he refuses to talk to anyone. Not even his parents. Why don't you think he's coping with it that well? He must have loved her more then they either knew. She still hasn't contacted him. Then again he stopped trying to get a hold of her. Well what can you do when someone is avoiding you?

This is the third guy she's been with this week. Yeah, she really can't seem to fill that place that he was taking up. He's a jerk but he was the best jerk that ever happened to her. He never answers his phone. I don't blame him; she wasn't the nicest person when she left.

He slowly opens his wallet, as the Velcro comes apart two slightly weathered razor blades fall to the table. He can't take it anymore; the countless shots of Yeagermeister have lost their effect long ago. He picks up one of the razor blades and actually thinks about sterilizing it with a lighter. He laughs. At a time like this he still thinks about things that don't matter. But what truly matters in this life? Slowly he presses the blade into his mid forearm. It's so stupid how the media thinks you cut across, that is more for pain then anything. As his hand is trembling he presses harder and slowly pulls the blade toward his wrist, toward the little black X. How funny that after all this time he still keeps it there. Blood slowly starts to pour out of his wound as he fingers the razor blade contemplating the other arm. It's been a full ten minutes now, it's seemed like an hour, there are two knocks on the door. It's too late he's closed his eyes.

She walks up to the apartment door; it's been three months now she hopes he still lives there. She raises her hand to knock; as she does she starts to think of the last time she was there. The last time she slammed the door. Slowly all the memories flood back into her mind, all the good times she had with him, all the times she woke up in his arms. She cries. She slowly gathers herself together and knocks twice on the door. She always did, it was kind of the way he could know it was her. She waits for what seems like an hour, but there is never a response.

Meanwhile Back at the Ranch

Logan is tired.
Logan wants a hug.
Logan is probably clinically insane.
Logan will travel around the world.
Logan is waiting.
Logan doesn't have much to say.
Logan does not have a watch.
Logan is fuzzy.
Logan has to work today.
Logan works way too much.
Logan found his nifty necklace.
Logan is done.

Be Back Soon!

We are sorry for the inconvenience but your regularly scheduled update has been postponed. We are well aware of the delay and hope that you will understand. For more information on the delay please read below.

As of 13:45 today a small airplane carrying a load of monkeys crashed into a cheese factory. While no one was hurt, the cheese did begin to mutate the monkeys into giant rabid flying primates of utter and complete doom. To keep the situation under control Logan (The main proprietor of this Blog.) had to report to the scene and dismember the giant rabid flying primates of utter and complete doom.

At this juncture in time we cannot guarantee anything, however, latest reports indicate that Logan is safe and cleaning up the mess exceptionally well. We hope to see this incident taken care of before the grand cheese festival next week. Again we are sorry for the inconvenience.

Xcid

Why must boredom eat my brains? So often my brains say hello and then they are gone. Some say it was the monkeys that did it, but I know the truth. Somehow it never actually leads to the right door but more often then not it is the left door. I burned a couple CD's for people once, they never did work right after that. But enough about me how are those fluffy little clouds tasting? That actually sounds just about right when you ask me. Last time I got a bunch of purple gooey things, and they smelled funny. So anyway about that penguin that tried to eat my parents, I think that they had a pancake breakfast with it. The other day I was shot. I looked at my wound then just kept on walking; I figured if I were really supposed to die the man would shoot me again. How much is the dress in the window? Last time I was in town books were selling for 20 and 40 each, and that was just in the small bags. Bags can be funny things with all the stuff you can put in them, and they never will disappear! That last bit is really amusing, who would have thought that the dinosaurs invented vacuum cleaners. I'm sweating I think, or maybe that is just some liquid seeping out of my pours, or maybe both. How much can you take? I just did like three but I've done five before. Sometimes the sprinklers will mess it all up but in the end you know just what you need to do. Damn sprinklers. Do you get me? It's been such a mess but now it's clearing up. Those clouds did taste good, so did that flower that I just ate. How much of that was a flower?

Here's Another Song About Mexico

Let's go to Mexico. But, only if we are driving under a full moon while listening to really good music. Okay... I guess the moon doesn't have to be full but it does have to be a clear night. It would be best to drive a convertible but any car will work as long as the windows are rolled down. The spark behind this really consisted of me driving home, my windows rolled down, and the almost full moon loomed in front of me to the right. As the warm air of the night mixed with the perfect moon-light hit my face, just as the perfect song started playing on the radio, it occurred to me: I have to go to Mexico.

I've always wanted to go down to Mexico. Mainly to listen to a bunch of The Refreshments' songs. They have a lot of songs about Mexico and it just makes you want to be there listening to them on some old scrappy stereo. I'm sure that's not the only reason... I mean aren't there other things in Mexico? None that I can think of.

The Abridged History of Saladish Up to the 3700's

Concerning the Saladish Empire:

In the mid 2600's a small group of human workers migrated over the Glunjil mountain range into the unsettled greater Saladish area. The human group was fleeing the harsh working conditions enforced by Drix at the time. Due to over-population the Drix Imperatrix took no heed to them leaving and assumed that no living beings could breach the Glunjil mountain range. The workers left Drix 10,000 strong and proving the Imperatrix wrong about 8,000 of them survived the mountain passes.

When the small human group reached the greater Saladish region a majority decided to set up a small settlement next to a small river flowing down from the mountains. (This river would later be named The River Hahn, after the explorer Hahn Killian followed its path all the way to the Drisdemric Sea.) This settlement with its mountainous backdrop would serve as a reminder of the harsh conditions they faced in Drix and those hardships their ancestors faced crossing the Glunjil Mountains. They named this settlement Saladish, after the region, which they claimed now as their own.

Shortly after (c. 2668) a man named Ralphlin Gregdor traveled around the greater Saladish area setting up a set of codes ensuring settlements safety and autonomy which would hence forth be known as the Saladish Alliances.

Although many of the humans settled in this region pledged themselves to the newly founded Saladish Alliances, a small number of humans wished to travel further south into the valley of Flowderfloon. The Flowderfloonians never had any animosity towards the Saladites, (largely due to there common ancestry) yet for their own personal reasons never pledged themselves to the Saladish Alliances.

Saladish flourished for many years without any outside disturbances, this 200 year period is known now as the Construction years. During these years the Flowderfloonians cut off communications with the Saladish Alliances and fortified themselves in their thickly wooded valley. The Flowderfloon Valley quickly slipped into a mysterious memory.

In the year 2904 Helen Trackdoor, who, at the time, was the mayor of the small village of Gregdoor and the chief enforcer of the Saladish Alliances, foresaw the fall of the Saladish Alliances due to the several larger cities trying to over through one another for the more popular trade. Helen saw that this would ultimately turn into a power struggle, which would weaken all the country. At the perfect time Helen quickly gathered a formable force of Saladites and blockaded all of the larger cities blocking their trade and food supplies. (This was the first and only use of power within Saladish until the late 3700's.) As this was going on Helen was appealing to the rulers of each city asking them to join a new Saladish Empire with the threat of being completely cut off from supplies. Almost every city followed suite within days of the blockade.

Now that the Saladish Empire was built Helen stood in as a temporary ruler as a new directive was written up. The new directive known as the Transition Papers was based primarily on the original Drixian Constitution, which was abolished well before the colonization of Saladish. The Transition papers created different states of Saladish which was each ruled by separate Lords and Ladies all of which owed complete allegiance to the Saladish Empire and took orders from the Saladish Emperor, (or Empress.) Keeping away from the oppressions of Drix they left behind so many years before. The people were set in a position to have the power to overthrow the Emperor and elect new ones. (The people never overthrew any Emperors; many of them conceded their office before they could be removed. Due to the severe punishment they would receive if overthrown.) Even though Helen Trackdoor did not wish to be Empress she was the first elected and ruled with grace until her natural death in 2952. This state of the Saladish Empire only grew stronger until the late 3700's.

Kirbu

Concerning the small fluffy animals:

The small fluffy animals are actually known as kirbu. Kirbu grow to be about two and a half feet long (including prehensile tail) and stand at a height of about eight inches tall. Their fur ranges in length from little over quarter inch to a full two inches long. (The longest fur on a kirbu recorded was a full three and a half inches long.) The color of a kirbu ranges from dark jet black all the way to a vivid forest green. (In colorful environments the kirbu has actually been known to take on colors unknown to it's natural environments such as reds and blues.) Patterns on kirbus are fairly common usually consisting of random blotches of a secondary color, although some more ordered patterns are not uncommon. The ears of a kirbu are much like that of a rabbit.

Kirbu can be naturally seen in almost any environment in which the Loki tree grows. (Their primary food source, which happens to only grow in the greater Saladish area.) After humans colonized the greater Saladish area they brought the Choocusco vine with them. The vine is considered a weed among many people and they were extremely glad to see the kirbus eating the vine just as fast as it grew. Do to this new food source that humans seemingly controlled it helped greatly in the domestication of the kirbu.

Known predators of the kirbu consist almost entirely of the giant Cocklespoon, although the domesticated kirbu need not worry of this threat since the giant Cocklespoons are deathly afraid of the human settlements. The lead killer of the common domesticated kirbu is the dangerous Jiggu Rot. Jiggu Rot is a highly infectious disease that attacks the kirbu’s respiratory system and slowly destroys its lungs. Untreated the survival rate is well under 20 percent, but if Jiggu Rot is caught in the early stages and properly treated the survival rate is boosted to a 78 percent. Through recent bursts in the veterinary medical field there is now an immunization you can get for your young kirbu that will protect them against Jiggu Rot through the rest of their natural lives. (Jiggu Rot cannot be spread to Humans.)

One of the more interesting things about the kirbu is that much like the common parrot and other birds it can imitate the human voice. The natural sound a Kirbu makes is much like that of a disgruntled mole, although it is an extremely good imitator of other animal sounds.

Please spay and neuter your kirbu.

Giant Cocklespoons

Work sucks out my will to live. I'm quite serious too. There are some days when I completely surrender myself to the world for a few hours hopping that by letting down my guard something will maim me in such a way I won't have to deal with any shit for the next very long time.

The biggest problem with my work is that it fuels the trip I wish to take. But in doing that it sucks out my will to live. And well truly my trip should be replenishing my will to live but since it is still so far off it only replenishes my will to live at a much slower rate then work destroys it. The only thing that really keeps me going is the two measly days I get between my regular weeks at standing stone.

After the fall of the Saladish Empire the majority of the small fluffy animals fled to the nearby valley of Flowderfloon. While the Flowderfloonians greatly enjoyed the presence of the small fluffy animals they did not enjoy the giant cocklespoons that hunted the small fluffy animals for food.

Look what I made...

The End of America?

I think the end of the world is coming. People actually have started to call me Jesus. Knowing me that is really just scary, but how bad can it really be? Maybe I should use my resemblance of him to start a following. Like I can claim to be Jesus and have everyone else do things... crazy things... like lets say, PLANT TREES IN PEOPLES YARDS! Oh my! That is just pure insanity; I think I’d prolly have to tone it down a little bit.

I have always wanted to start a revolution but frankly I don't know what it would be for. Like sure, there are plenty of people who wish to destroy our government. (And they're not all Americans!) But they are all scattered in different groups, there are the Anarchists, the Nihilists, the Communists, and yes even the dreaded Green party! What we really need to do is figure out a good point that every one would back against, and if we can't find one then we get to make one up! Like let’s say... THE GOVERNMENT DOESN'T LIKE KITTENS! Okay now that we have this tasty little lie floating around we can just wait for all of the governments enemies to band together, because everyone likes kittens! So now we have a very large group banding against the government so now we just need to figure out the best way to take over... Well the Anarchists will team up with the Arsonists and burn down all the government buildings. The Nihilists will sit around and do nothing. The Hippies will grow weed to bribe government officials and also to boost our new economy. The Communists will distribute all the weed and firearms equally among the revolted. And I will prepare to ensure my space as the New Emperor Grand High Uber Czar (NEGHUC) of The New-Age and Really Extremely Giddy Associative Provinces of the Country Also Formerly Known as the United States of America. (NAREGAPCAFKUSA) As the NEGHUC of NAREGAPCAFKUSA I will create a new language give people roller coasters and make penguins our national animal.

Damn, I'm gonna love living in NAREGAPCAFKUSA. Who wants to help?

A Whale of a Dragon

Damn dragons...

You may be asking why do I damn those dragons. Well frankly they get a little too big and death inducing after a point. I mean when something is twice the size of a barn and can roast an entire cow when it sneezes you have to be more then a little worried for your safety around them. But seriously do you know how many house cats’ I've lost to them? Sure they may make it look like a car hit them or something but it's pretty obvious that the dragons are just trying to cover things up. Those dragons are much craftier then we give them credit for. How many dragons have you seen this year? Like almost none! But when you're twice the size of a barn it's kind of hard to hide. But they manage it, it's hard to believe but they do. It's all because they have the power of infinity on their side. You can take an infinitely large number and put it into an infinitely small number, and it's really hard to see infinitely small things. So all the dragons have to do is find an infinitely large house to go chill in. (like that one just down the street from me and too the left... no! your other left!) And then once they're in the house they just have to go find an infinitely small whale to swallow the house. You may think that that is kind of hard but it's not... I have a couple floating around in my bottle of mineral water. (I just have to keep them away from that house...) So yeah that's how they hide, pretty crafty if you ask me.

Damn those infinitely small whales... and those dragons... and well any damn mythical creature... except for crocodiles... they're pretty cool.

Grim Reaper '05

Today I was able to use our new weed-eater, and well frankly it got me to thinking of what the Grim-Reaper of the future would prolly look like. So he'd have a weed-eater and he'd where a trench coat and ski mask... now that's pretty badass, but it's rather hard to kill people with a weed-eater. So he'd have a chainsaw. Now that is pure scary and deathlike screaming. But kids of our generation grew up with the likes of Freddy and Jason so we need to add some things to our new grim reaper to make sure children cower in fear... So well we're going to make his eye's glow, because glowing eyes are always scary! I mean, take a kitten, make its eye’s glow and, well, I’m not going to pet that kitty! Okay so we add glowing eyes and what else, hmmm... All right well when he walks it has to make the sound of a bag full of chains, because that sound is always scary. Now on the his trench-coat we should put some "no smoking" symbols, we all know that death won't scare a smoker but the thought of not being able to smoke sure as heel will. Now all this is scary and all, but not scary enough, so we need to think of some other things... like... um... RAINBOW SUSPENDERS! Now I’m shuddering just thinking of the new grim reaper. But what are the suspenders holding up? Only the scariest leg covering ever invented... Bell Bottoms. I admit they aren't as scary as rainbow suspenders but they certainly are scary. He needs a shirt too... or does he? Lets just have him go topless underneath the trench-coat but have a Wal-Mart smiley fact tattooed on his stomach with his nipple's making the eyes. Now I'm about to piss my pants...

So "The New Grim Reaper" is going to look like this: A guy in a trench-coat and ski mask holding a chain-saw wearing bell bottom and rainbow suspenders underneath the coat with a smiley face tattooed on his stomach and no smoking symbols all over his coat... Damn... I'm sure glad I grew up with the old grim reaper!

Viking are Da Shite!

I sit down to write something entertaining and the only thing I notice is my weak arms.

Concerning Vikings:

Vikings are a very resourceful group of people; they are a cross between Pirates and Scotsmen. In fact legend has it that the father of all Vikings traded a Pirate his bagpipes and kilt for a boat and a sword. (As cool as skirts are it was all in all a good trade.)

As far a lodging goes for a Viking they all sleep in boats. They follow this rule so vehemently even during their off season they are known to flip a boat over and sleep in it. (It is not uncommon to see Vikings hiking along land locked area's carrying small lifeboats for protection against the elements.)

All Vikings are required to have extremely large beards as long or commonly longer then the hair on their head. (The braided beard actually was started by a young homosexual Viking and quickly spread among the youth creating the new "in" thing.) Many believe that most all Vikings are blond but this is a common misconception, and at the same time Vikings are an exception to the dumb-blond rule. (Blond Vikings are usually the smart ones.)

A Vikings pet is naturally a very interesting thing. Unlike Pirates that have their parrots and Ninjas who have their... um Ninja Stars, Vikings will carry around any animal that they decide not to eat. But for an animal to truly be accepted tribe-wide as a pet, and not just a snack for later, they much be named. Names usually come from the area of which they were found and a species which they might be confused for. (The most famous Viking pet was Franklin the Norwegian Bobcat who was kitten house cat found in Grants Pass, Oregon.)

Viking pillaging usually consists of removing all the food and shiny things from a given area. This differs from Pirate pillaging by the fact that Vikings will commonly break things for no other reason than "It looked funny." (And after living in a boat for you entire life most other buildings look funny.)

The diet of a Viking is extremely varied and much like any teenage boy is pretty much whatever food they see. Many Viking also follow the strict rules of the "If you can chew it, eat it" diet. It has been told that on one occasion a Viking feast consisted or 12 different four legged animals all of which were natives to the small nation of Zaire.

The Viking burial is extremely ceremonious and does not just include the Viking warriors. Two of the most famous "send offs" were actually not even for great Viking warriors. The first was for Franklin the Norwegian Bobcat, who had been hit by a car and struggled for life even until the end. The Second was for Skjaldvör the wife Godric the slayer of Dragons, who demanded Godric clean the mead off of the boat walls. Skjaldvör was killed by flaming pieces of Franklins boat when it blew up in the final moment of departure.

The preceding is presently being looked over for admittance into the Encyclopedia Britannica, if you would like any more information on Vikings and their lifestyles please feel free to contact me.

My Vacation

Well I'm back from my vacation, it was fun... I didn't sleep all that much.

I have driven so much in the last week I feel as if I am more at home in a car. I was actually driving my friends Jon car more then anything. In fact I have driven that car more in the past week then I have driven my own in the past 2 months.

I've had a cold for the last week, I got it the night I graduated and just to show the cold how much I hate it I refused to change my schedule and in fact not only that but I also made severe efforts to exhaust my cold, and in the end exhausted me at the same time. It was fun!

Well I'm almost bored with this so I'm going to go get dressed and showered and stuff.

Friendish

I really don't feel much like sleeping tonight. The air just feels so refreshing and invigorating! I really wish I had some friends that I could go hang out with at this time of night. Yeah, all my friends are lame like that; on school nights they have to do stupid things like "sleeping" and "homework" but seriously why? It's so pointless with a week left of school; hell I thought it was pointless before this point! I need some new friends, or my friends that live in other cities need to move here. I have so many people that enjoy me in Eugene and Grants Passish that I'd much rather hang out with then anybody else here. It gets really annoying when a friend calls you up asking if you want to hang out and then saying "Oh yeah, can you come and pick me up?" And they are prolly the only friend you have that doesn’t drive and lives 5 miles out of town.

Maybe I just need to rethink my friends entirely, not hold on to the ones I have but start hanging out with those kids that skip class to go do drugs and such... that’s a great crowd! I bet they are awake right now smoking some weed or rolling on some X. Like I said great people to hang out with! Well at least I'd be entertained for the night, and if things get really bad I can even drive them to the hospital! Oh man, I see only good things coming from hanging out with these elite few. Who knows maybe after a time they will allow me to join their caste and I can get really messed up on drugs!

I think I'll go to sleep in a little bit. Or maybe I'll just go make a sandwich; I did eat a lot of cake today after all. So the real question is: Sleep or Sandwich? A very deep and powerful question that I believe will take many hours of deep philosophical thought to come to a conclusion. I'll go make a sandwich to get me through all that thought, who knows I may have to sleep on it.

Bored

Did I ever tell you about that time the sky blew up? Yeah, me niether.

Have a Good Day!

This morning while he was getting ready he actually looked in the mirror. Most mornings he would have looked and quickly exited the bathroom. This morning was different though. He was smiling. As he looked at the unknown man smiling back at him he suddenly got an odd feeling deep in his gut. It was nothing like the depression that he dealt with everyday, no, this was something that he welcomed. As he left the bathroom he noticed that he was still smiling, smiling at, well really absolutely nothing. As he thought more and more about this feeling he noticed he was elated above seemingly everything. He enjoyed this. As the day went on he noticed all the little things in the world, the birds joyful little sounds, the vivid colors of the trees and gardens around him, everything seemed so much better then the day before. Even that night he decided to go on a walk, the fresh cool air was crisp in his lungs and invoked a sense of calm that he could not ever place having before. As he changed into him clean warm pajamas the calm feelings remained with him, it was then he knew. As he fell into a deep slumber he knew that in the morning everything would be perfect.

Wow, that was extremely hard for me to write something positive... In the end I almost had him going asleep to his death but in the end I figured it might as well be a true change of pace. It seems so... uneventful of a story to me. I mean all of my writing is bad but this is utter crap!

Random Jolts of Electricity

I have decided that randomness is a sign of higher brain activity. It makes sense too! Just think about it, you have a bunch of random electrical bursts crossing your brain stimulating random thoughts. Higher brain activity, but unfocused activity at that. So sure a random person utilizes more of their mind brain but that does not make them smarter, just more spontaneous. In fact people who have more random stimulation end up doing stupid things without as much contemplation for the consequences.

So what would you rather have, a spontaneous lifestyle, or a much more structured life where you can enjoy single things? Personally I'd like to have the more spontaneous lifestyle. It is so much more entertaining when viewed from the outside. But that’s just it, you get bored so much easier then others that you are constantly in search of new things. I wish to find the balance, the place where I can take up things for a while and ditch them after a few months rather then a few weeks. I wonder if I'll ever get to that point. Maybe when I get back from my trip and don't care so much about money.

Nothing Really

The bloody hand embraces the cup as he takes his last sip before passing into the euphoric trance induced by the drink, seconded by the recent deed that was committed. The blood on the glass make it a slippery wet fish, and after loosing his current sense of will the glass becomes little bits of ice strew all about the bloody floor. He looks down at what just happened and starts laughing, hysterical is his laugh, so hideous that it brings tears to his eyes when he hears himself. Looking as what is on the ground he begins to realize what has happened. More laughter. Any second party viewing this seen would turn away and will the thick vomit back down their thoughts. As he laughs he leans up against the wall. His back slides down the crimson wall revealing the true tan color of the room. As he slides his laughter slowly subsides as the drinks effects plummet him further into the joyful numbness. The room suddenly starts to get darker, no not the room but his vision. Slowly he watches the last few shades of the room fade into black while he finally experiences nothing, something that he will still never know.

The Man You'll Hate to Love

I like being hated.

Now that I think about it the only reason this is true is a form of rebellion. How can you hate someone that doesn't hate you back? How can you hate someone if it's not possible to piss him or her off? Very hard is the answer. It really amuses me when people hate me. They send me ugly e-mails and I just smile and reply back in as kind of a manner as I can. I enjoy it very much. I almost wish I got more hate mail.

I sound like such a horrible person when I think about it, but really the only reason is because I'm not thinking hard enough. Is it not written in the Bible to turn the other cheek? Or perhaps love your enemy?

Hate is such a strong thing, like an A-bomb, if everyone used it there wouldn't be a world left.

Up, Below You All.

Today I figured out my problem.

I am always telling myself that I'm so much better then everyone else. Telling myself that I'm a friggin genius and all of you are idiotic pawns in someone else’s plans. But today I found out how wrong I actually am. I'm no smarter then anyone else around here. I'm really rather average trying to tell myself that I'm not. My ignorance has really just led to an extreme sub-conscious realization that I'm an idiot. Such a realization that I have convinced myself that I am an actual idiot.

Okay now I have two rather large parts of myself conflicting... One, myself, telling me that I'm well above everyone else. And two, my sub-conscious, telling me that I am an idiot. Now as you may think this is an extremely odd situation due to the account that I only have one voice in my head.

So what am I to do? If I continue to convince myself that I'm a genius then in the end I'll just fall into a pile of ignorance and get a rather large truth shock. And if I listen to my sub-conscious self well eventually I'll actually become an idiot. Now the middle ground? Actually accepting my average state of being? That in the end just puts me in a place that will never strive for anything and get a desk job that doesn't go anywhere.

Who am I?

Lefty

It seems like every post I make nowadays is apologizing for not posting as much as I used to.

Anywho life is interesting not much of great importance going on... Well actually if I really wanted I could make a few very interesting and humorous posts concerning the complete and utter lack of things that are going on.

Yesterday I ate 10 pounds of pizza... that was pretty cool, and it wasn't that bad, infact I want more pizza right now.

I used an umbrella today, they are really nifty, I don't see why more people don't use them.

Anywho thats enough of my completely and utterly boring aspects of my life.

Buh-bye.

Sorry for your Inconvienence

Wow I havn't posted since my birthday... thats pretty long...

Anywho life has been pretty tireing lately, I've had school, rugby, and my new 2 hour a night job. It's not that bad but it just takes alot out of me. Today I really don't know what to say. I hope I start posting more often again...

The End

Today has been no different than any other day.

The April Fool

It's April... yay...

So yeah what’s up? Not much, I'm turning 18 on Sunday. Oh that's cool, you'll be able to do stuff like vote, buy porn, and join the military! Yeah, but why would I want to do any of those things? Don't you want to vote, and buy things you couldn't before? No, I honestly have lost faith in our democratic system, and frankly I don't want to waste my money on porn and cigarettes. What about piercing or tattoos? Well I might get a tattoo but prolly not for a few more months. Oh, you can give plasma too. Yeah, I might do that, pretty much free money. You won't have a curfew anymore either. But I never did, my mom didn't care and police never stopped me. So you're really not that excited to be 18, huh? Nope not at all. That's too bad, most people really enjoy getting the newfound freedom. Too me it's not freedom, its more of a responsibility that I don't need. Yeah, that's too bad. Yup, well I'm taking off now, later. Bye.

Title

I know that I haven’t updated in a semi long while, but that mainly is due to the whole spring break thing that is going on... That consisted of my working, visiting friends in Eugene, camping, and finished my working more.

My trip to Eugene was interesting, almost fell asleep both driving up there and coming home. While I was there I stayed with my pseudo-ex-girlfriend, It wasn't that bad, her family doesn't know yet but all of her friends were wondering why I was there. I actually had a rather amusing time there, just hanging out and watching movies.

Camping was a lot less interesting, it consisted of driving to the redwoods, finding a wet camping spot, making camp and then continuing to get wet as we slept... The day after we drove back... Very uneventful and boring.

G'night

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear (name),
Happy Birthday to you!

Chicken A-la Mode

Today I didn't have a third period so I hung out with my Japanese friend, rather amusing just due to the fact that she'll laugh at almost anything, but the part that stuck with me is prolly the sharpie sketches that she decided to draw all over my arms and hands.

Anywho, rewinding to the weekend, I had a rugby game on Saturday; it was a four hour drive up there. Luckily it was not in vain due to the fact that we slaughtered the other team 27 to 0... It was really a huge confidence boost for the team. The four-hour drive home was rather un-eventful besides getting lost in the smelliest town in Oregon, Albany.

After I got home and as I was about to go to sleep, one of my friends called asking if I wanted to be the driver for the night. I agreed figuring I couldn’t get much more tired and that I might as well have fun; I mean it was that or sleeping. The party was really rather interesting, consisting almost entirely of people that would not select me to hang out with. And even better after a period the cops came! Second bust within a month’s period! Maybe I'm just not good luck for parties or something.

After a time when the cops had finally let us leave, and we were heading back to A-town, I made the suggestion to go to Denny's. The suggestion was widely received as a fun idea and after a bit of driving southward we came to the bustling metropolis of Yreka! Boasting a remarkable population of 7,860 people! I'd hate to live there but hey, the Denny's was good. My friend Jeff ordered for us, and for himself he got "The Sampler a-la mode." The chicken strips are good with ice cream; the mozzarella sticks not so much. We made friends with the waitress there and promised we'd come back for my birthday in three weeks.

Well that was just a portion of my weekend, and there is surprisingly enough even more that actually happened, but that will be another day. (When it happens again.)

Sketch

I sit down in front of the computer with my hands almost twitching for something to do. The reason for this is very well know to me, something explored on more than one occasion, and more often then not failed at. The energies flow through my right hemisphere and down to my extremities, seemingly stimulating them in to a mass movement where they would all function together as one, one almost human, piece of art. My hands are still trembling, I put the keyboard underneath them and continue to let the mystical energies take control of them. Steadily words appear on the computer screen out of almost nowhere. Even I ponder the origin, thinking that the centrality of these thoughts and words had been closed off to any outside stimulation. As the words continue to be processed the energies slowly wane, leaving me writing from the heart with only a small bit of inspiration. At every tap of the space bar I wonder who would actually read this and if I should just hit the delete button, the time has passed, and I feel as though I have failed. My fingers now have no new destination and fail to keep their speed. I contemplate the preceding passage and slowly highlight it. Without much more then a thought of regret I hit the delete key and it all disappears.

And?

Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing on earth still, but then its obvious, to entertain all those other people who would "miss" me if I was gone. Sometimes I wonder if that’s so much of even a good reason to stay. But hey, why not?

I sometimes wonder what is so appealing about life, really the only ting I can think of is the unpredictability of it. But that just doesn’t make too much sense with most people who have their routines and follow them everyday with out thinking or caring. I really don't plan to ever settle down... I'll pretty much just save up money for a time, leave, and comeback in a few months to do it again. I don't care about retirement I just don't want to be sucked into the modern standard of living everyone else follows. I don't care if I'm still washing dishes when I’m 47, as long as I am still going on random ass trips. I hope to die before I worry about retirement...

Well I must go plan the rest of my miserable life out...

Fuck the World

I'm posting more out of need to update rather then something significant happening in my life that I must tell all the wacko's about.

Last Saturday I broke my nose in my first rugby game, it was pretty cool, bled for like four plus hours.

I hate school and am sick and tired of all and any challenging classes.

I hate life because it's boring as hell.

I'm depressed because I need to be close to someone.

Anyway that was my update.

Hello, My Name is Logan.

Life sucks.

Tick Tock

I greatly enjoy the freedom of movement. I feel at so much more ease while in transit, whether it's walking or driving. To me I seem more talkative while performing tasks such as these. It really is mind-boggling. But it makes sense, makes sense as to why I like walking, why I am most lonely when driving alone, why I'm shy when sitting in one spot.

The whole "lonely driver" thing makes a lot of sense to me, when I'm walking alone I really don't need to focus on anything and can talk to myself or think of my own little entertaining things. Whereas, when I'm driving alone my thoughts are focused for the task at hand, driving. I become so focused that all my little entertaining thoughts disappear and let me have a one on one rub up with my true tortured soul.

As far as the whole being shy while sitting thing, I think that comes from how fidgety I am. When I'm walking or driving I have things that I'm doing to distract my hands. But while I'm sitting I don't so much and end up focusing on them more then the conversation at hand.

Yeah I know this is kind of random.

Blender

As the boy walks into the kitchen he flips on the light. The room is a mess, bottles and beer cans everywhere, dirty dishes piling up in the sink. He walks over to one of the counters that is rather void of any real obstructions. He takes the blender out of the door less cupboard above and rinses out the thick brown mush sticking like gum to the inside of it. As he walks around the kitchen he gathers a few canned food item of varying sizes from here and there. As he opens the different can's he laughs, identifying each with an emotion. Peaches for happiness, chocolate syrup for sadness, ravioli's for confusion, tuna for loneliness, and lastly, a can of shrimp, for death. As he puts the dirty top of the blender on he thinks back to his childhood to the memories of how his tongue swelled up and almost chocked him to death the last time he ate shrimp. He slowly presses each of the speed settings on the blender down the line to the end at liquefy. He stares at the blender, watching the food being slowly pureed into a slush of food and sea crustaceans. He finds a semi clean glass, not that it matters much but much more from a force of habit. He poured the dark gray slush into the semi clean glass thinking of how much thicker the gray slush is than blood. The tall glass looms in front of him, he knows that half the glass should make him through up. His hand slowly moves the glass to his lips and delivers the poisonous mixture. As the warm thick liquid flows down his throat it almost seems like there is nothing there besides the occasional drips on his dark blue tee shirt. He sets the empty glass down and can feel his throat begin to itch, he knows it is a matter of minutes until he will be blissfully asleep.

Beautiful Day

Lalalalala!

For some odd reason I'm really rather happy today. I don't know why since the highlight of last night was having the cops bust the party I was at and then getting ditched by my friends.

So yeah I'm at this party and it's getting waaaaaaaaaaaay out of hand, like there are people breaking glasses on the street. Anyways at about 11 someone yells that the cops are there. So like all these drunken people go running everywhere, while me and a few other sober people just play it cool. After a bit everyone hides in the garage and gets caught. (Idiots.) So me and the other two sober kids walk outside and hang out with the cops for a little bit while they give us a talk about responsible drinking. (To the sober kids mind you.)

I didn't have a car there so I had to hitch with a friend. So he take's me and a couple others to this random chicks house that I don't even know. So we all go up stairs and sit on this random bed and everyone leaves, except me and this other sober girl. This girl and I are sitting there when the owner of the bed come and tells us we need to leave. Since our friends left without telling us all we could really do was sit on a curb for like 20 minutes. Eventually our friends came back and took us home.

It was a almost random night.

Life as a Fly on the Wall

Socially, I've pretty much given up. I've finally admited there is no place for me and no one for me. I'm totally fine at being an outcast, so why not also step out of the way for others that would prefer the places I have so aquired in life, I musn't have any use for them if I am to be an outcast. Hell those girls that always wanted my lunch table, well I'm the only one using it, might as well give it to them. Actually being outcast isn't all that bad, there are a few perks, like nobody knows/cares who you are, you're never noticed. Hell! I could prolly walk naked through the commons and no one would notice me! I know this is all just sarcastic complaining but who else would I complain to? I'm an outcast, remember, I have no friends. I don't care anymore. Why should I even care about succeding and going to college? I might as well just go sit somewhere and rot until someone throw's me out because the smell.

Screw this.

Put the Fire Outside

Last night I went to a bonfire, as much as I like bonfires this one was alright at best. It consisted more of people that I'd never hang out with on any other occasion.

The funny thing is that if I look back at my social evolution I could very well have ended up in that group. A majority of my "Friends" are in the "popular" group. And you may think does that group have to do with the amount of money you have or the stuff you have? The answer is yes and no. You don't need the stuff to be in there, but if you want to be at the higher end of that group all that matters is how much your cell phone cost, what kind of car you drive and what clothes you wear. As bad as it seems I think that those things define almost any group, whether you wear all black or tight shirts and letterman jackets. Sure the groups claim that anyone can hang out with them but will it really happen if your clothes don't match?

As far as I go I like to think of me as the drifting outsider. Everyone knows me but no one talks to me. I sit at lunch alone and no body notices. I can easily go into any group at make joke with them but I'll never stay for long. I'm the lonely wanderer.

Live to be Alive

Death is such a common subject, sometimes you must really block it out of your thought. Among teenagers it is just a thing that rushes by and no one really cares unless they knew the deceased. This doesn't help when they wish to take their own lives. Teens are dreadfully uninformed about suicide and the fact that there is nothing after this life. Sure maybe that appeals to some but they should still think of who they affect, and who they influenced. At times a smile could sway someone's decision. But as easy as it is to sway someone from suicide it is just as easy to push someone, a few misguided words could mess with someone's day (or week even week.) You may not think you care about one of your unknown peers taking their own life, but you would care if it ends up that you helped in the process. Sometimes just asking if someone's okay can change their life. They may not want to talk but when they know someone cares their life could mean a lot more to them.

Always assume the worse, that way things can only get better.

Sleep is for the Weak

Happy Febuary!

So how is everyone? I'm all right I guess, I think it is time to look back on January and reflect. Well yeah... hmmm... not much to reflect on. Maybe this is a sign that I should have more death in my life. No not the dieing kind of death but the near-death-experience-kind-of-death. It’s such a useful type of thing. First it puts your life into perspective, second it makes a cool story, and third... well I'm sure there's something you could put in here.

Have you ever had a near life experience? I think I might have had a few... They most commonly happen right after near death experiences... I don't think they’re as fun though. They just make you appreciate life more.

A near sleep experience is more fun though... Mainly because you're speaking a lot more nonsense!

There and Back Again.

In the end I got a "B" in my English class so I decided to go to Arcata! For those of you who don't know where Arcata is, it is the Home of Humboldt University on the northern California Coast. From Ashland it’s like a four-hour drive. It was pretty fun; in fact I have had nothing but junk food and an apple for the last 24 hrs.

On the way over it was just like any other car ride, you know, complaining, music, rock slides, and the other very common stuff. Yes, I did say rockslides... In fact we were driving and I saw some funny looking things on the road, then I saw the same funny things falling from the sky. After pondering them for about half of a second the car started getting pummeled by decent sized rocks... I screamed, "Oh, FUCK!" and everyone else kinda wondered what was going on. 500 ft. down the road we start to hear a funny sound, which the driver (Jon) recognizes as a flat tire... The coolest part is where this happened is very narrow windy roads with a drop on one side and a very tall cliff on the other. When we pulled over not more then 3 cars had passed when a cop pulls up, he gets on his bull horn and says: "Could you please move more to the side of the road." This was not a question... it was a statement, a very ominous statement, much like he was death pulling us over. When we responded that we couldn't move the policeman says in the most monotone voice ever: "You're gonna get hit." and that was all... It was as if he was deciding our fate and dooming us to an eternity at the side of this road. After a little bit he got out of his car and set up some flares.

To top it off it was raining.

Left for the Right Mind.

Death to the cake! I honestly don't know why but in my mood I think something should die...

Well two nights ago I went to a concert, It was cool there was this white rapper, his name was "MC Lars," he rapped "The Raven." (Yes that old poem by that Poe guy.) Anywho he was pretty funny. I was actually turned onto some music while I was there, there were three bands and I really didn’t think I liked any of them but I was mistaken... The Riddlin’ Kids were there; followed by American Hi-Fi, and to top the night off was Bowling for Soup! All the bands were good and by the end it was so awesome because I tried to yell and almost passed out! I mean how cool is that!? The Mayfield part of the night is when I ran into this random girl that I had met 2 months before and barely knew... it was cool.

This morning I took the SAT's again... It actually wasn't all that bad and I think I prolly did a bit better then I did last time I took them. Last time I got 1100... I was disappointed, but today when I started the kid in front of me was saying that he'd love to get an 1100... I was like wow... its sad how much of a random guy I can be sometimes...

G'night.

P.S. I made up a new word today... It’s "Nawesome" it’s a cross between "Nice" and "Awesome." Yeah it’s a pretty nawesome word.

Snowballs are NOT included in this issue.

Wow, I've really slowed down as far as posting goes... Well I have my reasons... yes... I always have my reasons... *Evil laugh*

So how is everyone? Right now my mood is a kind of "glowing darkness." It's all like happy but not at the same time. (Yes, very confusing.) So I think I might have passed my English class, if my mark is any higher then a "B" I will do something very unexpected. It will be so incredibly unexpected I don't even know what it is. (I really hope I get lower then a "B.")

Some people think I set myself up for failure, I think that I set myself up for amazing comebacks. It goes with my saying, "It's not whether you win or lose. It's how good of a story it will make." So like lets say you're playing a game of ultimate Frisbee, you're team is down 3 points, so your teammate makes a "Hail Mary" pass and hopes that you catch it. Meanwhile you sprint 60 yards down the field, jump in the air, catch the Frisbee, and slide shoulder first into the goal. Anywho the point of the story is that your team is still down 2 points but you looked a hell of a lot better then anybody else out there!

The Sickening Truth.

I get sick like once every 5 billion years! Actually its closer to once every year but it is still rare. And I have been sick for the last X amount of days. I don't know when it started or ever if it is over right now or not. I just know the height of it was yesterday. Being sick really isn't all that bad if you think about it. I mean if you have a nice parent then you get to miss school, you get waited on, and they don't mind your complaining. But unlike the majority of "Moms" mine is different. She requires me to go to school as long as I'm not throwing up, if I do stay home if she is home she'll never ask me if a need anything and make me get everything myself. Honestly I don't really care, I've grown up knowing how being sick works, and for the most part I can manage.

Well I don't know what’s going on right now so I'm going to go do something.

Jujujuju Beeeeeeeeeeee!

Today work was really easy. I was there for a total of four hours! It was really rather nice, mainly because I only had to do like five things. (Okay maybe I'm exaggerating. It was closer to 3 things.)

I wish school were easier for me. There is this research paper I have to write to be able to graduate. I suck at writing research papers! (Or any other papers for that matter.) I know right now I'm just complaining, but for truth, why the hell do I need to know how to write a research paper if I'm going to wash dishes for my entire life? Okay I admit I won't be washing dishes for the rest of my life. In fact I really hope I won't be washing them for the rest of the year.

Have you ever had so much sugar you don't feel like eating more? Have you ever felt like that and ended up eating more? Have you ever been at the point where everything looks really tasty but you ate so much sugar you feel like you stomach is trying to escape via your belly button? Repeatedly? If you answered yes to all of the above questions you are either me, or have worked with the same baker I work with.

Hehe, I Won.

Picture a computer. Now picture it getting shot five times. And now picture someone going to turn it on and it still works. That is how I feel right now. Many may ask "Why the bullets?" Well really, what better way to put holes in things...

It's supposed to snow tonight, and with any luck it will snow the next few days and we won't have school on Monday. But it will never happen... It never happens. If it were to snow, it would be the first few days of spring break. It would be as if the weather, the Devil, and the school district all had this secret pact to work with each other.

It's easy to get tired, you just have to stay up late, do lots of strenuous activity, or even play with your emotions.

Soggy Bottoms

Well right now I'm waiting for my clothes to dry... It takes so long... or does it?

Just think 100 years ago I'd be waiting all night for it to dry, as it would hang in your living room during the winter and outside during the summer. It makes you almost appreciate your dryer, But then again it still doesn’t go fast enough! When ever you're in a hurry you end up having to wait for it and even then your underwear are slightly soggy for an hour or two. There really has to be a better way. Like can't we invent something like I clothes microwave? Your clothes would be in there for like 5 mins and they would smell like hotdogs when it was done! I mean I only see ups, dry clothes, no soggy underwear, scent o' hotdog... Man it would be a good life.

There a quite a few other things in our lives that we take for granted. Take mechanical pencils for example, 50 years ago if your pencil was dull you'd have to sharpen it yourself! OMG! How did we ever survive?

Well now that I have fulfilled my duty to update my blog I think I will go put on some soggy underwear and go to bed.

Stuff Version 1.556.4

Happy New Year!

Yeah, I haven’t updated in a very long while... but I have an excuse! Yes my excuse is actually also a good reason. My Girlfriend was visiting for the last week and I only get to see her like once a month! Yeah it’s pretty lame.

My break was a decent one. I visited my aunt and uncle in Portland and went shooting with my uncle and cousin. It was rather fun, taking out all of my pent up anger towards computers by shooting old hard drives and laptops... Ah it felt good to finally show them who has the real power!

On my way back I picked up my girlfriend (Bobbie Jo), and she stayed in Ashland for the week. That was fun, we went to two parties, one of which I first got stuck in a ditch, and later I tripped and hit a wooden pole really hard with my face... The second was much more fun, it was last night and it consisted of a bonfire, capture the flag (in the dark hilly woods), and a game of LOTR Risk. I won (or my team won) each of the events, especially the bonfire.

Earlier today I took Bobbie Jo to the Greyhound station and saw her off. It costs a mere $204.00 to travel from Eugene Oregon to Montpelier Vermont... Which comes out to less than 5.4 cents a mile... Cheap.