Is anyone still out there or have I inadvertently burned all of my bridges?
My move to North Dakota is upon me. I still have no idea what I am doing with all of my stuff, but here it is packed away all around me.
The farm may be a viable storage option and due to the two-weeks on/two-weeks off aspect to an oil rig job it seems plausible that I can sell a bit here and there upon visits, if I can afford them. I certainly don't want to saddle my mom up with all my possessions in the long term and I don't want to saddle anyone with the disappointment of my not finding a way to leave my unproductive past behind. There was a lot of love put into these things, and the fact that nobody wants them is both hurtful and completely and utterly understandable.
There is no one here left to love and there is no one anywhere, outside of family, who still gives a shit so here I am completely at a loss for even giving these things away. Ha.
I couldn't have fathomed the effect my days of despondency would have on my social life, but I have come to terms with the consequences and am well on my way to correcting this disgusting life I've lived.
'I smell of sweat and need a shower, but that long awaited sound of Texas is out there, and that's Texas heat that I need to shower away. Ten years running I've had this place on my mind because it always meant more than other places. Long ago, it feels, I threw out the histrionics of childhood depression and replaced it with something much more adult: surefire repression.'
The Tree of Life is the most pretentious film I've ever seen.
It's like a Carl Sagan visually-pleasing special on the creation of the Universe but, instead of an informative and delightfully entertaining narration, presented with a soundtrack that can only be described as "Brian Eno does Brahms and Puccini."
Instead of any kind of plot to allow us to feel something we see only stretched metaphors and painful allegories informed by acid trips to the observatory interspersed by whining nostalgia for a hard-luck childhood.
My very first favorite band, the one I fell in love with, was The Flaming Lips. My favorite album was "The Soft Bulletin," and I finally got to see them live in Orlando earlier this year, I think. My sister got to dance on the stage and she let me talk to Wayne on the phone from backstage. It was a great day and I'll always be indebted to the Flaming Lips for introducing me to music that really makes me feel great.
Later it was Sonic Youth, Cat Power, Sebadoh, Elliott Smith, Tom Waits and then I had a firm background of music.
Let me be oh so amazingly cool and make this friends only! Yea, thats right. I've found my entries are coming to be ever so more personal and I feel that I must know who cares. Unless I find you to be obnoxious I very much doubt that if you comment here with some the information below that I would deny you-just be sure to add me first and comment as much as possible, to show you care.
Things required in post:
Your wonderful name.
Your age (not required, but it would be nice to know [and I love everybody, regardless of age, so you can be a young babe (as in baby) or an older person that has great interests])
A picture of you (once again, not required, but I would love to see you)
Tell me why you care about me.
About finished? Nope.
Reasons to become a friend.
You can find wonderful titles in here such as "PERK RINES 'N' TATERS!" and something about my boots being made of jello...
You will find great dramatic things of very little importance that I come up with on the spot ("It's okay, crying makes the world blurry-thus better.")
You will gain a good friend
I write very seriously much of the time, and hopefully you can gain from this.