everyone is a good apple or a bad apple, right?

as we weave our little webs of love and life, we twist and turn our ways in and out of the pale reflections that we see in every passing window/mirror/puddle. it hurts my heart to think about everything that has been lost without ever being found first. all those loves in our lives that go unrequited. all those thoughts that get formed for the briefest of instances only to become as unattainable as trying to catch smoke with your hands. the whispers of our past act as guides for our actions. memory of emotion determines our actions, whether by fear of consequences or lack of motivation.

everyone who feels, seeks happiness. its a goal and a chore.

my eyes burn with sleepiness and dehydration. my body is charged with electrical emotion. in all the dryness of my lips and eyes, i can see much more clearly. i can feel my heart race. i can understand my quickening thoughts. i can feel my skin as it grows over my wounds. every cell in my body activating to move toward a common goal, my perpetuation.

the cancer that eats at me also liberates me. it will eventually free me from this life and pain. i know that there is nothing really worth living for except to find those gems of happiness in this world of shit. its the little things that are always the best. the simple pleasures are what makes all this bullshit worth putting up with. finding joy in every breath, focusing all my will toward that end. seeking, forcibly, all the pleasures that i ignored when i was too young to appreciate it.

everything is far too precious to take for granted as far as life goes. i want to savor every last second and to live as much as life lets me. im will use this life for everything it has to offer and when im dead my corpse will be a map of the paths i have take and the mistakes i have made. i am here, but not for long.

it was my dream to create a perfect world from this cold imperfect world

time is a tricky beast. it heals, it kills, it changes and it owns us all like we own the breath in our lungs. it is the ultimate and final judge. my heart breaks every time i think of all that could have been in another time and space. another world. another life. another time.

ah, time, again, that beautiful killer. i miss the time when youth was more than a word or a memory to me. the older i get, the more i realize that past is long gone and the future turns into yesterday too fast to comprehend. the end is ever approaching shortening the distance with every exhalation. my only hope is that i will be able to see then end and be able to end it properly.

i dont know where this notion of time burning me away came from. just started thinking about all the time i have wasted before and about how crippling it is knowing that i will never get all that time back. watching the Green Carnation dvd, Alive and Well in Krakow, i just randomly checked the back of the box and noticed that there were some audio tracks on the dvd that i had never noticed before. one of them being one of the most pure, romantic and sad songs ever written; chris isaak's Wicked Game.

i always manage to forget how much that song moves me. it grabs me

pulls me into its heart enlarged by overwhelming sadness at the

lamentations of the world in which everyones quest is to find a

perfect mate or at the very least suitable suitor to bring home to

the friends or parents. it destroys our hopes and loves, much like

time and reality distort what emotion was meant to be. it is an

effort i no longer want to expend energy on.

im sick of fighting for love. im tired of trying to fix what

will always be broken. i am not going to continue trying to force

these square pegs into round holes. love should not be work. love

is something undeniable not something that requires constant effort,

that is what a relationship is. the relationship is what ruins

love. you feel that love and want to surrender yourself too it for

as long as you are able, but then life gets in the way and you feel

yourself slipping away from that pure feeling into something that

requires a constant effort to maintain and yet still falls apart. it

is the relationship, the labels, that kill love. love is a frail

thing, its endurance unmatched but its skin easy to bruise and bones

simple to break and at the same time, its life so difficult to

steal.

the overcast sky outside is too inviting, i must go. just remember

no matter what comes your way, lead with your heart but do not

forget your brain. without the two in tandem neither can be

complete.

angst for the memories

i had a very funny notion about stalker songs and in doing some research into them i learned that there are a lot more out there than i realized. it is quite humorous to me to think about how many pop songs have catchy little hooks and fun lyrics that get people to sing along with them without actually listening to what the words are. there are a lot more than almost everyone realizes.

the first song that came to mind was Rick Springfield's song Jesse's Girl. with lyrics like:

You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl,
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman like that
I play along with the charade,
there doesn't seem to be
a reason to change
You know, I feel so dirty
when they start talking cute
I wanna tell her that I love her,
but the point is probably moot
'Cos she's watching him with those eyes
And she's lovin' him with that body,
I just know it
And he's holding her
in his arms late, late at night

That is the very deffiniton of what im talking about. veiled innuendos alluding to things that every love-sick person thinks, but doesnt want to allow themselves to acknowledge. i love the fact that these songs make it to number 1 on the billboard charts and people just never notice how depraved they are.

another prime example, The Police had a huge hit that is quite timeless with Every Breath You Take. people think to write the lyrics off as being romantic and about a loving relationship but any previous stalker/obsessed disenfranchised person knows that lyrics such as these:

Oh, can't you see

You belong to me?

How my poor heart aches

With every step you take

Every move you make

Every vow you break

Every smile you fake, every claim you stake

I'll be watching you

are specifically identified with by serial stalkers.

everyone seems to think that to make something vicious and frightening it has to be plain in what is said. in songs like Stripped, Raped, Strangled and Fucked With A Knife its plain just from the names of the songs what to expect from the lyrics. no subtleties there.

other great stalking/stalker songs are:

Obsession by Animotion

Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley

One Way or Another by Blondie

I Want You To Want Me by Cheap Trick

almost certainly songs that everyone knows, even now, 30 years after some of these songs were originally released. i find it pretty funny and ironic.

so, its time for some happy stalkings. next time you are singing along to some pop music, just have a listen to the lyrics and read between the lines. try to find the meanings behind the terrible presentation.

they like you, they dont like anyone

i have seen a lot of beautiful things lately. every time i see something that moves me, i am suspiciously without a camera that would do it justice. the camera on my phone is just too flakey and the resolution just not good enough to even bother trying to capture that image that struck me as beautiful.

the other day i walked out of work at 2am, the sky was very overcast and the lights were reflecting just perfectly on this house on a hill just outside of where i work. i wanted so bad to have my camera and a tripod. i could have gone home and gotten them, but by the time i would have gotten back, the beauty of the moment would have passed. i have the vision in my memory, but i hate the fact that i cant share it with anyone. it is such an amazing remembrance that i am glad i have.

i need to get out more, walk around and take shots of things. i want to put together a photo show with some larger pictures and some smaller pictures in odd frames and spaced together to make a larger portrait. ill get started on that right away.

it seems today is a day of simple pleasures. i sit here on my couch, watching children of men with my maine coon laying pressed up against me and alternating between purring and snoring. i feel his warmth against me and his comfortable and soft fur under my hands. he wakes and looks up at me with the love and adoration of a child for his parent. it is the simple pleasures.

i find it funny, that i am such a crass and insensitive individual sometimes. watching children of me, a movie in which people can no longer have children, i find it a refreshing to think of a world where breeding has been paused for a while. it really needs to be done. obviously not a permanent solution, but it would be a nice quick fix until shit gets more regulated or until we extend past our planet.

who am i kidding? the human race will never escape planet earth. we will never colonize alien planets. we will be lucky to escape our solar system. it seems like such a waste of technology to be confined to this singular planet in this lonely solar system. oh how i would love to be one of the people who gets frozen for 500 years on a journey out of our microcosm to another world light years away. sadly, not something that will happen in my lifetime. it probably wont happen ever. the way that we go about killing ourselves and planet, it is unlikely that we will ever be able to exercise the self control required to come together as one race and propel our lives beyond the boundaries of dreams into the realm of the future.

it is a terrible thing to constantly focus on the beyond. it is also a terrible thing to have a here and now that only inspires one to look beyond. the is truly the horrific part of our times; the fact that there is so little to be happy about. the future that lives in my imagination is where i derive the vast majority of my pleasure. yet, every once in a while, my eye spots a piece of fleeting hope in someone elses face that inspires a bit of joy on my part.

i killed somebody once, it was easy. that is why its so dangerous

there is a purity in history that is no longer present in the here and now. i spent the morning watching a movie based on a favorite book of mine, Bid Time Return. the movie in question is Somewhere in Time. im not going to summarize the plot here, but it will suffice to say that it is a period setting of sorts which is quite based in reality, despite how strange the story is.

100 years ago, the way people spoke was different. the way people spoke to each other was different. we take a lot of liberties with how we speak to one another now days. we are less formal, less specific and very different in our assumptions about each other. the innocence of ignorance is something that is lacking in todays overly stimulated, hyper-sexualized and ultra-violent society.

from the sex and death on tv to the plethora of porn on the internet, we are slowly making ourselves into a people who not only accept the familiarity of strangers but take advantage of our connectivity to put aside the mysteries meeting a new individual. more often than not, the chase, which is the best part of the beginning of any relationship, is now lost thanks to the stalking capabilities of the internet and ease of communication of text messaging. the thrill is gone before it has a chance to begin.

its no wonder why we have become obsessed with getting in and getting it over with fast. we want to move on to the next chase. we want to move in and move on as fast as we can. there is no need for the permanence of companionship when partners are virtually interchangeable like the bits of a drill.

love has become like god, a dying institution, an effigy to a notion that is being replaced by reality, a dream from which we are all awakening.

the truth is that technology has killed everything that was once thought to be beautiful and replaced it with false notions of perfection and electronic courtship. everything that made dating and relationships an adventure has be altered to this new bastardization of technology and flesh.

i miss the innocence. i miss the time that courtship took much longer than typing some information into a computer. i miss the good ole days.

we pretend not to see what we did

its been said that the only things that will still be living after a nuclear holocaust are cockroaches. as of recently i have a different thought on that. i think it will be a world of psychopaths and cockroaches. psychopaths are the only humans who have the mental capacity to do what must be done when the world is ending.

everyone likes to think that they have what it takes. the truth of the matter is that you have to be able to turn of empathy, regret and compassion if you want to survive whatever ends us all. when it comes to survival, feelings will only be a hinderance.

i know its not the end of the world now, nor is it likely to be in my life time, but we must always be prepared to do whatever is necessary to survive.

ive been told that i am crass and unfeeling. i am apathetic and an asshole. i am insensitive and uncaring. i may be these things, but i am also in control of my emotions. i am in control of what i feel and how i feel. i keep my feelings to myself and choose to experience everyone elses with them instead of sharing my own. its much safer that way and it makes people feel closer to you if you feel their emotions with them. for the most part, people dont want to know what you feel. their overriding sense of self worth makes them feel as if they must constantly project themselves upon others. its as if people arent comfortable feeling what they feel without the approval or reflected emotions on others faces.

the heart is a weakness. love is a broken will. emotion is subjugation to someone elses fleeting whims. if more people would internalize their feelings instead of subjecting anyone they can find to their bullshit then i think the world would be a much more tolerable place for the individual.

but who knows. i could just be that guy. that psychopath who really doesnt care about anyone but himself. perhaps that is me.