::
2003 20 September :: 12.18 pm
:: Music: Nine Inch Nails - Happiness in Slavery
Down with italian franchises...
Went to Morningstar yesterday.
Saw Matt.
He lives in his car on the highway.
He couldn't buy coffee, he had a gallon of orange juice.
He was tripping on acid.
I'm just going to say it right now, since I didn't get the chance yesterday.
Goodbye, Matt.
6 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 10 September :: 7.30 pm
:: Music: The Red Hot Chilli Peppers - Can't Stop
If I grow a goatee, fire or set fire to me,J-J-D-K...
And now you.
If I can't win, and won't, so won't you win for me. I'll give you my name, my identity, you can fill in the spaces. You can ad-lib, and I'll just be happy that your standing in my shoes. I'll read the book, then you write it, and we'll both smile at how stupid we really are. Really.
I'd forgotten the T.
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 7 September :: 12.54 am
:: Music: Our Lady Peace - Life
The blaming finger shows his black nail...
Dear Mr. J,
I wish I could be with her, and then again, I wish I could be with her.
Another job has been added to the roster. I'm gonna work a Papa Johns. Hopefully the gay guys will keep their distance this time. Pizza places, me, and gay guys are a very volatile mixture.
Chris (step-bitch) had said something yesterday that drew the line. I totally stopped talking to her and my dad. Which today I later explained. Generally speaking I'm not one to do those kinds of things. But, what she had said drove me over the edge. She knew it.
I couldn't handle it anymore though. My dad is such a sweet guy, and I was being such a dick, and I decided that I was only making things worse. Thus, I talked to "Papa Bear" and told him how I felt. That's also something I'm not use to doing. It felt good though...But, fuck Chris. She's a waste of time, and that is all I'm mentioning on that subject.
Stop using my underwear you bastard!
Mucho love,
Dustin
Oh, and for any of those who read this and were in Hazel's class last friday (Chris, Katie, Jeff, Marisa). It was great to see you. Marisa - Sorry for pushing you and telling you to fuck off. err, yeah.
2 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 4 September :: 10.24 am
Do yourself a favor, kill yourself...
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work more.
Work more.
Work more.
Work more.
Ok.
Ok.
Ok.
Ok.
I need to talk to my manager.
I need to talk to my manager.
I need to talk to my manager.
When are you working more.
I need to talk to my manager
Work more.
Ok.
Work more.
Ok.
Stop patronizing me.
I'm not.
Stop.
I'm not.
Stop.
I'm not.
STOP!
Me and your mother think you aren't listening.
Me and your mother think you aren't listening.
Me and your mother think you aren't listening.
Work more.
Stop.
Work more.
Stop.
Work more.
Ok.
Stop.
Your right, I'm not listening.
Your right, I'm not listening.
Your right, I'm not listening.
Your right, no matter what the fucking circumstances.
Your right, no matter what the fucking circumstances.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 31 August :: 11.50 pm
Period Period Period
And the smartest man alive once wrote/said/thought:
Ignorance is bliss.
...
What does trouble face?
What if he was handed a pencil?
What would he stencil?
What would he erase?
...
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 27 August :: 6.49 pm
:: Music: Finch - New Beginningss
A vessel of soulless, inside-out sandwiches...
Dear Mr. J,
Well, what is there to say. I never have anything fun to say anymore, besides shit that doesn't make sense. Come to think of it, have I ever said anything fun?
Chris (Step-mom) is a total bitch. I don't know why I didn't see it before, or maybe I just neglected too. She has the most subtle hints of my mom in her, that just make me cringe. Maybe it's just mom's. I don't fucking know.
I've been working on my art as of lately. I drew this really funny comic strip about a sun who wakes up and has trouble lighting a cigarette. Heh, eh... Plus another project called "M.I.N.E.", that I feel is going to bomb. I need more formal training, which I doubt I'll ever get. Is there such thing as an apprenticeship in America?
Work isn't so bad, no, no, not so bad at all. I'm warming up to the people, and actually had a somewhat intellectual conversation with one of my co-workers. It was mostly him doing the talking, with little exchange, but at least I know he's smart.
I've been having this weird feeling like I should be in school for some reason. I try to emulate school a little bit by doing research on whatever pops up. Like, oh, extinct trees of nordic countries. Stupid shit like that. I'd like to think that I don't have school-envy, but I do. I guess I'm just in routine shock or something.
blah, blah, I'm done.
Til the morrow,
Dustin
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 17 August :: 1.23 am
:: Music: Our Lady Peace - Life
So many light switches, and no time to flick them all...
Dear Mr. J,
Times are little weird. I'm confused whether to rekindle friendships, or just say fuck it to the lot.
Plus, without the direct influence of all my friends I feel I finally have the capacity to grow up, some. I don't know if I want to or not.
Sigh, I need a hug.
Insomnia is such an interesting affliction. I know it's really bad for the complection and half the time I can't even form sentences. That's how tired I get during the day. Then night roll's it fat ass around and I'm wide-a-fucking-wake.
Mmm, hmm, It's sick.
Life currently is extremely boring. I need to learn a new language or something. That's how much time I have. Bleh.
Well, journal, you should be getting to sleep.
Sweet dreams,
Dustin
2 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 10 August :: 8.39 pm
:: Music: The Juliana Theory - To The Tune of 5,000 Screaming Children
The girl who grew up to be a tv, and was scared of the world...
Dear Mr. J,
In mocking girl's voice:
"You should talk to me or I'm going to get mad."
So, work sucks. There I said it.
Everyone who works there is either twenty one or way older. And, since I hate working there, the access, undirected hostility goes to my co-workers.
I typed a whole, very pretentious profile of all those bastards. Due to post preduction costs, the segment will be cut.
I should probably call all those people I knew in Cedar and apologize for just disappearing. I get the distinct feeling that none of them really give a fuck. So, I'm not going to waste the money...This includes my mom.
I don't know, I guess I dwell in the past to much.
Well, that's all I can think of for the moment journal.
You take it easy. You crazy bastard.
XOXO,
Dustin
3 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 29 July :: 11.56 pm
To balance a silver stake on your lips...
Dear Mr. J,
If someone is disappointed in someone else, should the disappointee turn it into hate?
Workin' tomorrow, insomnia's still kickin' like ever.
...I got nothing.
Sugar coated hearts,
Dustin
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 25 July :: 7.43 pm
:: Music: Ben Kweller - Lizzy
A life based on a true movie...
This is the account of Mr. K:
Mr. K has a little problem with his face. Half is mangled and reconstructed from being beaten in at a bar brawl. The bar is called The Web. It's located on the corner of Richmond and Muskegon, about two hundred feet from my old house.
Mr. K's wife said she wanted a divorce previously that day. Mr. K was never taught to handle situations that involved the difficulties of emotions in any other way than to drown them.
Now, let's establish that Mr. K loved his wife very much despite the complications. Whether they be from him or her. She changed him in a lot of ways. For the better. He distinguished his cretinistic habits of womanizing, drinking, drug abuse, suicide, among a roster of minor mediums of self destruction.
Well, Mr. K didn't take his divorce announcement very well, and his old habits resurfaced. He went to a bar, and, this part's blurry. He's a very tall and shadowy type man. He looks like someone who'd start trouble, but then, at that point his cover was a total opposite to the content of his book. I'm not exactly sure if he said any condescending words to the man or not. He said he didn't.
The man dragged him, half inebriated, out of the bar, and beat him almost to death. Mr. K was rushed to ICU. Where they set him up on life support, and questioned whether to reconstruct his face or not. Over a period of time, his face was fused back together for the most part, with a little dab of metal and some other prosthetic shit.
He now looks like Quasi Modo.
His only salvation these days is his faith in god, and his only son. And if he trusts you enough, and respects you a little. He'll tell you his story, and his feelings, and his love for his wife, that he'll never have again. Just get some coffee with him, he'll tell. His childhood reminds me of something reminiscent to a kid in a third world country.
At the time of his residence in the ICU, Mrs. K had taken pictures of him. She gave them to him as his divorce present.
***
My story about the mishaps of a person who was misunderstood all his life. No chicken noodle soup with this one. Just a little personal venting.
2 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 22 July :: 8.47 pm
The monetary empire of domestication...
Dear Mr. J,
I wish I had robot arms. So, I could put them on printer mode and draw everything exactly as it is in my head.
I found a job (insue a thousand okapis playing djambes with their internal parasites) it's at Mr. Burger. The manager said I was one of the brightest kids he's met, which doesn't say much for this side of town. He's pretty cool. He does have that authoritative vibe going to him, but that's nothing I can't break.
Anyway, it's going to cost me at least twenty bucks to work their. ...That last statement was a little oxymoronic? Eh? Eh? I didn't really get to meet the other full time employees, but they seem to be quite splendid as well. I hate saying anything positive about the people in a work related disposition because I know in a couple months lapse. I'll be consuming my words.
Nothing really bad has happend as of yet. I almost got into a car accident this morning, but that's a scratch in a bowling ball. I've gotten in about nine throughout my life in every possible fashion that can be fathomed...without me driving. I have a little insomnia going, but I think that's about as natural as a ethopian with no food for someone of my...modulation.
I'm about due for something bad. So, if your out there bad, you better be ready cause I know your god damn tricks!
Love with cherries on top,
Dustin
P.S. Props to Hazel for making me one of the brightest kids Craig's ever met.
9 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 10 July :: 11.06 pm
The little green condom...
Dear Mr. J.,
My special objective list to rule the world:
1. Get dreads
2. Well, number two was a joke with a friend about scoring with her...so, there is no two.
3. Acquiring one of those little statues that says "I love you this much". Those things are so "hot".
4. Four is a liar and says he's five so... (The bastard wears old school roller skates.)
5. Make a movie
6. Write a book
7. Find a hat that suits my head
a:/ end list
If I was a character in a sitcom, my gimmicky catch phrase would be "fucking kids". And I quote "I hate fucking kids". Especially ones that share a quarter of my gene soup. The fun part is the shitty realizations that you find in yourself from being around children all day.
I still haven't found a job, but I have my liscense. Um, job wise, I have a couple inhibitions that put me way low on the totem. Plus, I don't think people like earrings and a semi-natural. Here's a list of places I've gone:
- 2 Subways
- Burger king
- Ace hardware
- 2 Papa Johns
- Big boy's
- Pizza hut
- Dollar World
- Dollar General
- Meijers
- 2 Amoco's
- Meijer's Gas
- Speedway
- Shell Gas
- Clark Gas
- Talent Tree (Recruitment for factory work)
There's a couple others but I can't think of them.
I have a dollar in my pocket, and my pride is currently digesting. Maybe I could pay someone to stab my eye out and then I could collect insurance on it. Eh, eh?
...I live with my father permanently, which I'm trying to convince myself is a good thing. It is. It is.
Other little stuff, film at eleven. blah blah.
Your friend,
Dustin
2 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 23 June :: 1.57 am
A car? fueled by my melancholy, baby...
Dear Mr. J,
I've taken into consideration and confirmed that I'm still existant. It's been a longgg, hard month, and my capillary capacity in my lungs is still declining by every second.
Anyway, I live with my pee and step-em for a bonified remainder (until I decide to bail out). And the whole thing with living with my mom is over...Over! I didn't think I could make it. I almost ran away, once.
I was looking for a homeless shelter and everything, and I found a nice comfy park bench. But, I hadn't eaten anything all day, or had a cup of liquid. Overall I had about three choices; sleep in Aberdeen, stay in the cemetary, or go home and get a reaming.
I decided to walk by the house and see if anyone was home, and they were. So, I sat out front, smoked some, then went inside. And my uncle and mom chewed me out for having the worst non-god-worshiping personality in the world. A big fuck to that.
Now I live with the "real" rents. Which deserves a good bam and zing.
Still:
- No liscense
- No job
- No highly time consuming life
- No diploma
I'm working, and have been working on it. There's a lot of strip malls and shit here. No books stores though, and that's shity. I think I still have credit at the last one I was at.
And that about raps up the liner notes, Mr. J.
Goodbye.
281-1326
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 18 May :: 10.05 am
:: Music: David Bowie - Starman
Was...
God, I wish I could have stayed in that dream forever.
The girl I've always wanted, but under certain circumstances was denied. It was my own stupidity, but, I had her for five hours. And now back to reality. Oh well, life goes on.
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 12 May :: 4.54 pm
Cruel intentions for the future of the cretins...
Dear Journal,
heh.
It looks as if I'm going back to school.
After long, tedious, cigarette consuming arguments with my mother. She decided that I should waste the next two weeks sitting in class.
As I previously mentioned, both families are moving at the same time. And the intention was for me to live with my dad. But, they have to close on the house, and that means no space for Dustin at his aunt's. Which is where they're staying until things settle.
So, I have to go live with my jesus-freak uncle, and co.. And put off getting my GED for the next month or so, which really pisses me off. My mom thinks it's stupid that I'm dropping out, and mentioned it was a "cop out". That doesn't make any sense to me since I've already taking the initiative to get some kind of legitimacy.
I'll have to rummage up some novels for the next two weeks.
3 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
|