music4thedayb4

Each day of work is like being dragged from the back of a pick-up truck (in the south).  (For being black.)

The cubicle sharks fucked with my buddy Sharon again yesterday, because they really have a hard-on for her.  They're obsequious folks with a pipeline to the director's office and six or seven of them conspired to get her fired.  They didn't quite get their way, but she's on THIN ICE.

I can see what they don't like her.  She's loud, Jamaican and incredibly witty and funny -- basically everything they aren't -- and confident.  She's really kind, on the surface too, but she's got that Caribbean sass that ignorant white people just can't identify with.  Personal jealousy and latent xenophobia are no reason to cost a person their livelihood. 

Sunday nights remind me of everything I'm dissatisfied with. 

I loathe my job.  I'm so fucking embarrassed by what I do that I'm hesitant and measured when describing it.  I basically mail shit and log it in a spreadsheet for a living.  I've been doing this for 18 months and it's not a deal where I'm entry-level and on my way up.  No; this is my job until someone decides it's not.  At that point, I'll be assigned something else boring and rote and will hate that too.  I get paid more money than I deserve for a job function that's so trivial that any efficient operation would've cut or consolidated it by now.  But I'll continue to use my pay and the solid benefits to justify my continued employment there. 

I'm still living with my mom, sorta.  My friends know the 'sorta' deal and think it's pretty cool, except for me.  This is not a great living situation for me at all.  This is the same stale city I've lived in for 19 years.  It's for all intents and purposes a bad neighborhood.  This apartment building has gone to shit and I pretty much dislike everyone living here.  And my room is hardly that. 

So, what's keeping me here?  I don't think it's prudent  to sign a one-year lease by my lonesome in a bad economy.  Roommates?  There are no candidates within my social circle, so I must search within circles tangential to mine.   Plus, my 14-year old dog and I are a package deal.

My life is too routine!  Work, gym, work, watch some sports, Internet, work, read this book, download music, work, gym, bar, gym, bar, Houlihan's for football, feel miserable about myself and then back to work on Monday.  I need some chaos.  I need to live.

Women.  I'll keep this brief because too many pages of this journal are devoted to this subject.  I'm too much of a coward to spark conversation with ladies who make eye contact with me.  When I do engage women, I almost always bungle the situation completely.  This year alone, I really fucking sucked.  I iced Christine when she showed interest again (probably the right move in hindsight).  Kerry was an unmitigated disaster, because she really liked me for a while and I was too concerned about not looking like a churl to really spark something.  She has since moved to Pittsburgh.  When Kelly really liked me, I was so lukewarm toward her -- the aftermath of the Kerry situation really sent me into a summer-long funk -- and now that I've really gotten a chance to find out how incredibly special she is, I'm totally kicking myself for not courting her in the first place.

Here's to a meteor shower blowing up my life...

Shit,

I haven't updated this thing in over four years!  Reading past entries make me cringe, each page a haunting reminder that: I was once an utter boor; my words did not mobilize  -- never did I act or improve or achieve -- at all ; and my past insecurities remain current ones.  I'd say the only refreshing thing about my archive is that an honest appreciation of my friends pervades throughout the journal,  indicative of the strong feeling of fraternity among us.  While I still love them like brothers, we no longer roll as deep, as hard or as strong; we hardly roll at all.

Those friends aside, it is fitting that my return entry is in dedication to a friend that has never before graced these pages: my pal Denis.  If you're a jealous man, Denis is loathsome.  He's the handsomest guy in the room -- 6'3", thin and muscular build with a rock star's sense of style;  pitches left-handed with a mid-80's fastball and good breaking stuff; a brilliant casino gambler and ace poker player; he's working-class with earnest sensibilities; and he writes the best music that no one's ever heard.   The man has virtually everything going for him, but still manages to connect with a sad and downtrodden fellow.  Tonight, Denis with some kind words and a simple promise made me feel as special as he is.  He gave me a different outlook.  Talk about words that mobilize.

Denis is a man that I love and I'm not afraid to say it.

It's funny how your world can turn to ashes in a matter of days, hours and even minutes. At least in my own head, I was the toast of the town for a week or so. But confidence can be that force that turns your world upside down; it can be the finger that pushes the button that opens the trap door beneath your feet. It's sad to say that I'm the one that;s falling through. I've turned from 'hot product' to 'not quite what I was looking for' in no time. I went from singing "train whistle blew, my wish came true" to just "achin' to be". I'm deeply troubled in the state of dating and relationships, because I can never position myself correctly. Part of it's strategy, but a good portion of it is luck. I'm seemingly plagued with any of the following: 'plutonic dick in glass' syndrome; the 'not the right thing for me' blues; 'we like each other but you're coming on too strong and now I don't like you' mumbo jumbo; or some other construct of inter-gender communication. Dammit, can I finally get what I want? And I don't think I did anything wrong this time, unless feeling good about yourself is considered a bad thing nowadays. I've paid my dues...It's finally time to get what I'm due.

They were gonna meet
On a Rocky Mountain street
Two bashful hearts beat in advance
Their hands were gonna sweat
It was all set
She ain't showed up yet
Still a good chance

It's a love untold
It's a love untold

Checking on her face
Checks his sleeve for his ace
And both just in case wear clean underwear
Games would be played
Excuses would be made
The stupid things they said
In their prayers

Oh about a love untold
It's a love untold

Soft hands slowly move across the blank white page
Thinking of words for my silent lips and fingers to obey



They were gonna meet on a crummy little street
It never came to be I'm told
Does anyone recall the saddest love of all
The one that lets you fall nothing to hold
It's the love untold...
Once upon a love untold
Just another love untold

They were gonna meet on a crummy little street
We were gonna meet on a crummy little street

If you were a pill, I'd take a handful at my will - and I'd knock you back with something sweet and strong.

The two most dreaded words - "just friends" - are etched in this cold steel grey riveted stone. Or maybe it's this constant shaking and the shivers that make it look like rivets - but the cold, the steel, and the grey are as definite as the empty feeling welling in the bottom of my stomach.

(2008 EDIT: Fuck. It's absurd how this adequately summarizes my 2008. FOUR YEARS LATER!)

"I support the culture of life." - George W. Bush

Whatever the hell that means! It's so superfluous! Life is an intrinsic part of culture!!!

And my motto, stack rocks like Colorado.

Birthday gal, did you wish yet?
Can you handle the turning? The candles are burning low.
Birthday gal, did you wish that --
There weren't quite as many candles for you to blow.
--------------------------------------------------

Things between Melissa and I are over, and it's for the best. I grew increasingly more unhappy with our relationship over the past month and change. It's not one particular event that made me feel this way, but rather a conglomeration of events that caused this feeling of increasing dissatisfaction.

It felt odd being on this side of a split-up and I know I didn't end things properly. Still I'm convinced that she'll be better off for it, and now I know that I have the power to initiate a break-up - a skill worth knowing (althought I hope I won't have to use it much in my life).

Over these next few months, I'm trying to benefit myself exclusively. I do not need to be bogged down by things and people that may stress or worry me, or hinder my tunnel vision.

What will benefit me?
-substitute teaching which will increase my weekly earnings and help me save money
-spending more time with my niggas (namely, Chris, Marc, D, Jumaan)
-spending more time with my niggers (Stumpy, Rican, Roch, Denis)
-going to Pub 46, Showoffs, Hooters, Champs, etc.
-finally taking that road trip this summer.
-making Tri State Punk a premier production company in NJ
-hooking up with your mom.

Consider this my "Idiot Summer To-Do List".

And it's hard to come to grips with you. I don't know how to tell you, but I'm sure you know. It's not how it used to be, half a year ago. But I'm not skilled at these things, and I hope that you read this and understand how I feel. And realize what has to happen, so you can have a realization too. And eventually I'll have another one.

I more than love you, but just not in that way.
I hope that you'll forgive me, somehow, someday soon.

Achin' To Be - Maybe the most depressing
Replacements song. You need some professional
help.

"She closes her mouth to speak and
Closes her eyes to see
Thought about an' only loved
She's achin' to be
Just like me"


What Replacements Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heart aches. On your wedding day. Double takes -- when you look my way.

Bastards Of Young - Full of youth and pissed of is
how you live.

"We are the sons of no one, bastards of
young"


What Replacements Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

....we're going the distance, while growing distant....

such an unfortunate fate.

It's frustrating to say the least when everything you look forward to in a day turns out to be a giant bust. It's indicative of life as it holds true to the cliche, "life sucks and then you die."

.....

I care about her so much, but how much does she care about me? I'll die for the answer to this question.

Yeah, I stole this from Sheena
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My LiveJournal 12 Days
My True Love gave to me...
12 __paper___hearts a-hollering.
11 crazyricans a-drinking.
10 fallen_behinds a-chewing.
9 gutterboys a-dialing.
8 mac01s a-calling.
7 mandaforsleeps a-hugging.
6 mrshowtimes a-staring.
5 red ohsoelectrics.
4 galloping pookienesss.
3 Canadian sdittoduhs.
2 bull social__attacks.
And a vincibleman in a plum tree.
Get gifts! Username:
Another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern.

Is this resistance, or mere growing pains?

I've been wrestling with a few things within myself - and it always comes round this time of year, too. Why is it always me and my lack of order, lack of efficiency and these persistent butterflies in my stomach? I can't wait to bust through this month and hopefully the other side will be much clearer.

Much love to my main man Chris for reppin his city throughout the last six months. I'm so proud of him.

That you like your position.

Much props to Melissa, reppin her sczzy city.

hollar at your boy .