Silent Film #1

My friend, Ant, and I like to make Silent Picture films, we decided.


Obviously, I want him to die.




In the end, I succeed.

I killed somebody important once.

I have recently been enlightened by a new friend.

She explained to me that in life there really are no coincidences, but rather, plans. See, the universe has these ideas for each of us.

Yesterday I ran into someone that I didn't particularly care to see; a recent ex lover of sorts. In busy downtown Pittsburgh, it isn't so likely for two people to cross paths when either of them could be anywhere else in a more likely 40 mile radius.

I couldn't help but begin to tell the friend I was with what a strange coincidence it was. She dismissed my idea of our mutual concurrence at that specific parallel on that specific plane as anything but a coincidence.

"The universe"; she said, "brought you two together for a reason."

Reasons beyond my knowledge apparently. I have no interest in being brought together with this at one time thought to be magnificent boy. Not anymore. So what the fuck does the universe know, or think it knows, that I don't?

Maybe it's punishing me. Trying to pull one over on me, eh?

And so, tonight. Tonight I'll fall asleep wondering if in another life, maybe, just maybe I killed someone. Maybe karma hates me.

It made me run into him yesterday, completely unannounced, yet was benevolent enough to not make me see him with his new/old girlfriend..and then..! Then, a little later on Primanti's ran out of cheddar cheese (which I happen to hate) so the waiter put provolone on my salad instead, which I believe makes for particularly good karma, yeah?

So that's me in a nutshell today: self proclaimed killer in another life.

My Not-Suicide Note

I have had this ongoing fear of being murdered for a while now.





It's not my apprehension of death that makes me cringe as much as the thought of my assassin setting up my death as a suicide.

What would people think?
My loved ones would think that they failed me as loved ones,
My enemies (if I have any) would laugh at the pathetic situation I had become.
Those who didn't know me would simply gawk at the dilemma, because that is what the detached do. Tragedies of just another person are always fun to look at and into.
That is because taboo excites us. Admit it! You are guilty of tuning into the news, 90% or more of which is filled with the missing, raped, and dead. I always digress...

When you kill yourself, everyone's perception of you changes in an instant.

Please know that there are few situations in which I find death a more appropriate option than living. Torturous predicaments. Physically painful, near-death-anyway sorts.

So, in the case that I am ever found hanging from a ceiling fan, or face down in a pool of my own blood with a gun in my hand, please find comfort in knowing that I did not do this to myself. Some asshole out there is just trying to get away scot-free.

Get 'em!

Let's Just Get One Thing Straight.

you have no face.

given that you did have one at some point, i am afraid that you may have lost it somewhere between may and june.


i'm sorry to say that it is impossible to go back in time, pick it up, and dust it off; given that you did have one at all in the first place..

luckily, it is however not impossible to construct a new one. not that anybody could ever take a newly constructed face seriously.



..am i ever real?

someone jacked my bike.

As my welcoming to Historical Lawrenceville, I was surprised with an anti-gift last night. I came home for the week to find that my bike was stolen, right out of my back yard and out from under my porch. Pissed, I found myself walking around the streets at midnight with a mace, looking in crevices and underneath shadows for my longtime friend. My search didn't last longer than 10 minutes as I started to weigh the consequences of walking around this city at night through dark alleyways.

So I gave up for the night, and started to look into the Free Ride organization (www.freeride.org) where you can volunteer for a few hours a week for a free bike in return.

This morning, I was running late for work and had to choose taking the car over my own two feet. Maybe I could have gotten there faster walking, parking spaces are scarce in these parts.

Just as I resorted to parking in the Rite Aid lot, a ridiculously familiar yet somewhat defaced Huffy rounded the bend. You don't see too many mountain bikes on the streets of Pittsburgh. You don't see too many turquoise Huffy mountain bikes with the climbing bars removed and the logo stickers suspiciously peeled away in Pittsburgh..
I rarely act out on cynical situations as I try to see everyone as a decent person with a conscience. But something clicked. I pulled the key out of the ignition and bolted towards this man, towards this bike. As he turned down an alley, so did I. And just as he came into my view again I yelled;

"HEY! Where did you get that bike?"

He stopped, turned around and so some small convo happened. The scruffy, middle-aged dude apparently bought it from some kid on Howley Street for $25. I live near Howley. Howley is parallel to my backyard, where my bike was jacked, mind you. I explained this to him and he handed it back to me. Simple as that. I rode it to work, locked it up, rode it home, and locked it up again. Tying her up will become a neurotic trend of mine.

Though there is no way of saying whether or not this man was the culprit, my childhood friend remains in my arms, or under my butt.. I guess.


Bike Love.

alone has no 'us'

there is this trend in my writings lately, i realize;

the more time i spend alone, the more distance i keep from everyone, the more i realize that i really don't want too much to do with anyone else.

it's a bit tough, as nostagia has always been a huge downfall of mine, but i have been weeding out (or atleast heavily excogitating it) those who cause me the greater stresses in my life. the sorts of people who sweat the small things that really shouldn't cause much persperation of any sort at all.




i just find it very hard to deal with the stresses and dramaticisms (yep not in the dictionary) that others seem to present to me at any given time.


i've found that, just as with any other luxury, we really do get used to emotions. it's hard coming out of relationships, or experiencing a loss because the mutual feeling that we experience with one another truely is a luxury. but we at some point adjust to being alone, just as we would have to adjust to changes in the weather or the cost of living.

i've also been coming to terms with my intimacy issues, which i gather have some sort of effect on why i feel this way.

i mean, i suppose that the company of others in small doses is mandatory for one's sanity, but nobody can meet the expectations that i have drawn for them in my own mind. nobody that i have attempted to get to know thus far, anyway.


i'll edit and piece this all together one day. but for now: my scrambled ideas.

your far away thoughts.......

Restfulllessness.

I've said it before:

You'll never be completely happy with everything in life all at once.

I get that. I accept that. I'm just going to let this all pour out. No artful writing this time. Here it comes...

I rearranged my room at my parents house. It helped a little. Threw some plants in there.. I don't know much about feng shui but I do know what makes me happy personally as far as furniture arrangement. Never put your bed between a window and a doorway, they say. It disrupts the chi flow while you sleep. That's what they say. What does chi feel like, I wonder? I wish I could feel some chi. Surely I have/do? I wish I could feel a little less or a little more emotionally than I do at the moment. A nice little medium. Why can't life just be full of happy mediums? Maybe I feel too much or too little of anything and it has some sort of numbing effect. I mean I'm not numb, just..perterbed, if you will. To say I am numb would lead into accusations of hypocrisy later on in this post. Or maybe I feel something that I don't want to feel for one reason or another and so I'm just shutting it off subconsciously. The subconcious mind is a fascinating thing.

I'm so restless. Case in point, first sentence of the prior paragraph; "..my room at my parents house." I've been here for 19 years. It's been good, but it's time to move out and on. Did you ever see Big Fish? Lately I'm the narrator. I need out. Out of this house, out of this town. Out of this state in one way or another would be ideal. So when are they going to start building a community on the moon? Kayla hit the atmosphere. Alone, most like.

I am so dependent on others for happiness. Example, I can't stand spending the night alone anymore lately. I find myself constantly looking for a nighttime companion(s)..Someone to hold me over until a better one comes around. Just someone to converse with, sleep beside or around. Nothing trashy. Yet being horribly picky doesn't help much either. Just look pretty and give me a false sense of demand and I'm all yours until you don't want me anymore, I guess. (How strange that I feel this way, in a way, but at the same time I am feeling something else that I am incapable of putting into writing?) ..And didn't I say something in the last post about dependence being poison? What a horrible venom that spreads throughout. Find me someone that is completely stoic and you get a ridiculous prize..some antacid tablets or beano, perhaps. I've put up the stoic front before. Cut it out. You can't fool anyone with that. You are not chemicaless. You'd be dead. You're just trying to numb yourself like the rest of us. And yes, I just busted out a word that I kinda made up. Get used to it. What I don't know, which is alot, I make up. You do it too. We all do it. If you have any doubts, refer to the bottom of this post.

I digress.. but that what this post is about. Digressing. Because that is where my mind has been lately. And I have reason to believe that a mind in digression is one that drives itself to some level of insanity. By the way, I know that 'a lot' is two words, I just choose not to accept it as such. Digression...

Good things can come out of insanity as far as media and the arts, though. But the producer always gets the raw end of the deal. Some tragic or pathetic death is usually involved. You'll become a martyr later though. After you die.




Certain things will make you crazy, like trying to understand antimatter, or love. Just don't think about them. Well, some things are easier not to think about than others, I gather. It isn't everyday that positrons and antiprotons or whatever come to mind. Not to your average joe anyway. I don't lose sleep over the unfathomable vastness of the infinite universe. But I do ponder from time to time. And just which of the two mentioned above is a larger enigma? Oh well, the unexplainable is handed over to our anonymous and elusive God. What a wonderful excuse to use less than 10% of our brain capacities..

Looking back is a fun way to fall.

Sometimes we so badly want to feel an emotion that we force ourselves to feel something, only to later realize that it was all just some sort of feeble attempt to break away from any cultivation of loneliness inside of us.

Some advice, don't do it. Stay lonely as long as you can, until you just can't live that way anymore. You are better off that way. You are better off lonely than jumping into murky waters with poisonous snakes and the like.

Dependence is poison. Poison is everywhere.

'Mutual' is a word that must exist but is still so hard to fathom at the same time. When I hear 'mutual', a picture of two objects and an interval comes to mind, as it should. But like many, when I hear 'mutual', I believe I should see two objects welded into one another. That is kind of a scary thought. Really.

Mutuality does not equal dependence. That is where people fuck up.
Mutuality is not mandatory.
Mutuality is just something nice to have, like a yard or a remote starter.

We are so so benign when we want what we need.
We are so ridiculously egocentrical. Yeah, egocentrical.