:: 2003 9 May :: 7.31 pm

What?...
I dropped out...Woe is me.
I wonder if the things that run through the heads of all the droppers is the same. Where do I go?, what do I do?, who will I be.
Or their completely apethetic and don't care.
All three of my families are in the process of moving. I have no idea how it happens. Everything seems to be synchronized when it comes to family.

...Anyway, I guess yesterday was the last time I'll see a lot of people. So, goodbye. If you don't know how to get a hold of me. Then you probably didn't know me good enough.

3 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2003 14 April :: 9.19 pm

Finger drawing faces, drawing fingers...
I'm positively dropping out of school now. "Positively" if my mom gives me the: OK. But, I don't want to set a bad example for my brother, thus I think my mom is in deep contemplation or none at all. I don't know, she never pays attention to me when I talk.

Anyway, I figured I'd try to find a job that'll except a drop-out "which would be none". Work that, and develop my art skills a little more. I'm rusty if not sucking at it, for the moment. It's the only thing I can fall back on. I considered writing, and pretty much wrote all spring break (which summed up to be about four or five different stories written in different versions). I'd have to work on that too. There's still a lot of things I need to learn.

I don't know what to do. I'm not excited about this at all. But, I pay for my own insolence. We'll see how things go, and hopefully in ten years I won't be working a factory job like my uncle who was in the same scenario.

2 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2003 13 April :: 11.47 am

Proximity sickness...
You know when you want to call someone, but your too sick of hearing yourself talk to actually do it.

Work, work, smoke, work. Gotta' work the land, gotta move stupid furnishings and pick up garbage on new land. Lift bricks, lift bricks, lift bricks. Then go back to school, fail, fail, get yelled at by Mr. A for having 10 or 11 detentions, fail.

I'm smoking even more these days (spring break) since I've got the time. And I boy do I have it. I guess me and the funk master are going to make a music video once we reenter our school routines. I gotta find a job, and get my car fixed, plus get my liscense. I've got this last day of work, then tomorrow I think I can sleep the whole day if I want. I don't want to, but I do. Bleh.

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 9 April :: 8.59 pm

Wayne, the newt, of newt records...
Well, today would be the 3rd time we've been to the land. We spend most the time picking up old rusted metal garbage and cinder blocks that have been left by the previous owner. It's cool though, 12 and half acres isn't bad. The house won't even take up half an acre. I've never really lived on that much land. I'm used to my house on like 2 acres, or the townhouses we'd live in down in Grand Rapids before I moved up here. It's cool.

Got's me a new car, but I wouldn't call it fucking new. A '88 Chevy Celebrity. It sucks ass. And just like the land, the previous owner had filled it full of shit that took me two hours to clean. Fucking, bottles of liter fluid, charcoal, beer cans all over the place, a fucking portable grill, and little mice nests. It needs a new suspension, but my uncle's taking care of that tomorrow. It'd be nice if I didn't have to roll the window down to open the door though.

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 6 April :: 10.27 pm

Suck my ass perm gnomes, now who gets the last laugh...
Got a haircut today. It's about an inch and half long. Literally, so much weight lifted off my shoulders.

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 31 March :: 7.59 pm

Straw hats are for people in business attire...
Earlier, my mom asked me to help her move some of the stuff out of the house. (We’re moving the 13th) And my exact thoughts were:
Fuck that. Here it is 6:30, and I’m waiting for your ass to get home. So I can continue my tedious consistency of making sure the clothes on the ground are clean, so I can wear them tomorrow and look like I jumped out of a dumpster. I have about 6 more hours of nothingness. Not wanting to go to bed before 12 or 1 or 4 in the morning thinking that I don’t want to live in the next day. Waking up an hour after I fell asleep, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, going to school where I sit for an hour and a half waiting for the damn thing to start. (Commence random kick in the balls, by random person) Sitting in class, knowing your failing 6 classes without effort, and being ok with it and pissed at yourself for not caring. Coming home watching the baby until the old lady decides to come home. 6 or 7 o'clock whenever she feels like, “work” she says. Coming home with a half empty box of smokes, and soggy look of solidified tears. She’s in the same disposition I’m in.
It’s 7:30 now. I’m cooling down, after 3 cigarettes, and rapid couple of paces around my house. And what do I come down to. I’m an 18 year old living in a 36, or 40, or 50 year old life. I’m the oldest male in the house, (including Eric who is 37, he’s the father of number 3, he comes around every so often, drinks a 12 pack or a bottle of Southern Comfort, makes an ass out of himself, then falls asleep on the couch.) I take care of kids, I have to worry about debts, my mom’s and mine. I feel like I’m married. (Don’t take that in an incestual, or perverse way.) My mom’s problems, are our problems. So, I take care of a baby for who knows how many hours, only in priming myself for the (what seems like) infinite minutes, hours, months of my life spent listening to problems from someone 18 years older to me. “I’m 18, I can’t talk you through everything.”
That’s just it, 18, going on 36, or 40, or 50.

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 29 March :: 9.25 pm
:: Music: Linkin Park - Breaking the Habit

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2003 24 February :: 9.25 pm
:: Music: Smashing Pumpkins - Glass and the Ghost Children

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 21 February :: 4.46 pm
:: Music: Smashing Pumpkins - Thirty Three

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 18 February :: 10.02 pm
:: Music: Sigur Ros - Staralfur

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 13 February :: 8.27 pm
:: Music: Incubus - Version

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 10 February :: 9.08 pm

Effectix Synaptix...
Four days of coughing, hacking, grabbing my chest in various amount of fluctuating pain, running to the bathroom on account of throwing up, throwing up...sickness. Not just any sickness either, I have pharyngitis.
That wasn't the bad part, no, the bad part was the isolation, the delirium, bedsores, lack of nicotine, lack of routine that came in a large ball of rice paper and coated in a starlet of wax paper.
Numerous times I've had dreams, about 8 or 9 (which is more than enough), that were ludacrous even in the magnitude of dreams. Four days, four days, four days...

The Dreams: One dream was of my dad, it was me living a lifestyle as an orphan knowing my dad had just died. I seemed to have been walking around town for hours just reflecting and crying about my dad being dead. The weird thing was, I wasn't more than 9 or 10 years old. Then someone or some voice kept saying in my head, your next, your next, your next, your going to die... I woke in tears, not knowing where I was, it was seven o'clock at night. My mom had taken my brother to his basketball practice. I was alone, I had a fever of 100.9, I was coughing, I was crying, it was hell. I'm not one for crying because of dreams, or trying to decipher anything out of them. 'Cause, well, I don't have very many.
The one before that was me at some resort location, on a paradisical island. We were all drinking or something like that, we being me and some other people of annonmity. Then some girl came over, and we all made bets to measure our penises. The girl had her own official penis measuring board. She was, like, a official penis measurer. Well, it became my turn, and I could feel the panic in me, in my dream. But, it was weird, because, what did I have to be afraid of. Then it lead to the "dad" dream. Fucked up night. There was a couple others. They're very vague now, one was very like that movie "Chocolat" with fuckin' Johnny Depp in it. The thing is, every dream I had these four days was so real, it felt more a like a delusion or hallucination than anything. What ever, I need a fucking smoke.

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 3 February :: 7.32 pm
:: Music: New Found Glory - Forget My Name

2 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2003 24 January :: 6.41 pm
:: Mood: fuck-if-I-know
:: Music: 311 - Amber

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2003 18 January :: 7.17 pm
:: Music: Tweaker - Happy Child

Point and Shoot