Goddamnit, three minutes have passed.

The commercial break is over, the fight is drawing to an end. Go on again with your lives. There's nothing to see here. Again I'm only posting here because I've been drinking. I almost feel bad for blogger.com, I only care about you when I drink. As a good fair weather friend should act. The current date is sometime in November, I should know, my work promotes it like no other, Thanksgiving and stuff but yeah, no, I'm not going to wear your degrading pins. If I wanted to take a job with a degrading costume, I'd have settled for Burger King or something. I mean I have a uniform, but it's nowhere near yellow and red stripey hats. I think last time I had just landed a job at Native Foods Cafe, which is a place I've always admired, but they say, don't get a job at a place you love, it'll ruin it. Fact. Can't even imagine working as Disneyland. Native Foods has sold me a bomby vegan cheeseburger or 5, and it's sad I now know, in similarities to an addict, can never match that first time. Moving forward. The idea of this is to be a public forum where, for whatever reason, other people come to read what I have to say. Social Networking. The last couple of days have not been anything less than mentionable, but just for sheer sake of decency I do not wish to share them. Unlike other social networking assholes, I don't revolve my entire persona around my internet life. There's been good, and there's been bad. And there's been good that caused some bad. I'm not this open. No one should be really, it's stupid, but while you're doin it, hey! I'll look into your personal business. The NSA's watching you anyway, might as well tell the entire internet world about your recent trip to Vegas and how you got hammered and are now hungover on the drive home. Congratulations, you've experienced what everyone else who has gone to Vegas has been dying to share. You're a gem. An emerald. I don't even know where I'm going with this right now anymore, I'm not sure if I'm mocking Facebook, or the assholes that use it, myself included. Just so many beers. I wake up every morning with aspirations and go to bed every night aspirating. Was hitting the gym daily for a while, that obviously lasted. It's 5am and I'm going to end this post. Dreading the initial post sending blog read through (everyone does it) because rather than edit my post, I'm just going to have another beer instead. Til next we meet.

Goddamn, it's been two minutes.

"May 11, 2013:"

"As I write this the clock is pushing 5am, and I need to at least attempt to sleep in order for a shot at a comfortable time at work tomorrow, so for now I shall sign off, but this excerpt has yet to continue..."


This excerpt never continued. Black curtained. I'm sure the countless people reading this are so disappointed.

Seeing double.

And so, it all begins again
same time, very same place, can never tell if you're my friend.
And I know, you're here to sweep me off my feet
one more time, another night, as we slip into retreat.

So it goes
I know that we should stop
but it's hard to let this go, without it my heart may just stop
You know I'm trying, and I'll see what I can do
I'm just afraid, you got me used to you

And all those nights you single-handedly got me in trouble
and all those night that you also set me free
but for now I'll continue on just seeing double.
Don't worry about me, don't worry about a thing.

So sweet, the taste you leave on my lips
it's such a shame it's such a game to be so tightly locked in your grip
desensitized, the only feeling that I've known
though you're here, I watched the sun rise all alone

And all those nights you single-handedly got me in trouble
and all those night that you also set me free
but for now I'll continue on just seeing double.
Don't worry about me, don't worry about a thing.

When will it end?
When will it end?
When will it end?
When will we end?

You make me shake
You make me shake


I'm just caught up in your wake again.

Goddamn, it's been a minute. Reminded myself somehow of this page after a year of posting last. Never kept up with this much anyway, compared to pages full of physical writing in notebooks, but that's how it should work I guess, correct? Reliance on technological means as little as possible. The reason that I'm adding to this as we speak is solely because I feel like writing, but have been drinking too much for legible handwriting. Typing somehow is not an issue to me though; maybe this is a sad realization of my familiarity with tech over old school means. Fuck it. It's roughly 4:30am, and I can't seem to stop myself from getting just one more beer. Just one more beer. Rinse, wash and repeat. It's not that I'm an alcoholic, I've been better lately, but for some reason something about tonight has struck me funny. Maybe that's why subconsciously I uncovered this page and decided to add to it, who knows. One more Corona down, justification in full force. "Dear Diary, please help me, I'm miserable," am I right? but enough of that cry for attention garbage. I'm a happy dude currently in a sad place, or maybe I'm a sad dude currently in a happy place, I haven't decided yet, all I know is that everything has been better than it has been for a long time, yet for some reason I'm pushing beer after beer, cigarette after cigarette. Overly buZzed + sad songs maybe. That can always do it.

   Within the last 3 months I've: Moved out, developed a terrible alcohol habit, lost my job, mended my alcohol habit, got a new job, joined a band I used to play for, played at House of Blues, got a new job, found out after 21 years that I have a half brother, and saw some faces that definitely threw me off a bit, yet at the same time gave me a bit of closure on certain aspects of my life. Nothing crazy, white people problems at best, but it has definitely still been quite a trip so far. Spent the night about two weeks ago in an empty room drinking 40s by myself writing lyrics by candlelight. That was a pretty liberating feeling actually, just spending time with myself, searching my soul. Maybe that's why I'm enjoying typing this right now, same principle. The day after I lost my job because of drinking, I walked to the beach at about midnight armed with only a candle, a notepad, a pen, a full pack of red Paul Mall cigarettes, and my rouge, unorganized mind, and let me tell you, writing by candlelight, with the gentle and sporadic harmony of crashing waves, and rustling waters orchestrating an almost lullabying sound in the background not only influenced a serene mindset, but one of the most introspective and meditating events I've ever had the privilege to experience.

   As I write this the clock is pushing 5am, and I need to at least attempt to sleep in order for a shot at a comfortable time at work tomorrow, so for now I shall sign off, but this excerpt has yet to continue...