The Obscure

I have so many thoughts whizzing around in my mind that I find I must put them to some use, be it for good or for evil.
But first... Ladies and Gentlemen, Jethro Tull!


In the morning, gonna get my things together
Pack them up and leave this place
I don't believe you'll cry, I'll see
A smile upon your face

I didn't think, how much you'd hurt me
But that's something that I'll laugh about
Bring in the good times baby
And let the bad times out

Oh that old sun, Keeps on shining
But someday it won't shine for you
In the morning I'll be leaving
I'll leave your mother, too.

Yeah, that sounds about right. Everyone do the John Colón Shuffle, if you know what that is. If you don't, then take pity on yourselves; and to you, everyone who knows the John Colón Shuffle, take pity on that less fortunate multitude. For as it is written, "We are all as equals in the eyes of God."

I don't know if that is an actual writing, but it sounds good enough to be one, doesn't it? I haven't been able to sleep all night, my Aunt's espresso helped liven me up enough to say hello to people at the christmas party, but it was slightly to potent for one who has been on less than one cup of coffee a day for months. Remember when I was a six-cupper? "Quit drinking coffee," they said, "it's the number one source of migraines." they said. So I quit drinking coffee. I went through a pretty hellish time but I gave up drinking it, at least drinking it as religiously as I used to. Change in migraines? Nah, no such luck. Nothing can penetrate this skull; ask my parents, or any of my former teachers. Nothing gets through, and everything gets out. It's like some sort of thing that I can't come up with an analogy for. One of those crazy things.
Osmosis Jones fell in the ocean
Osmosis Jones, what for amazing term!

My headache was gone for a little while tonight, it came back just now, I didn't even notice it creeping in and then, BAM! Can't really see anymore. But I won't let that bring me down, it's only castles burning, after all.
If you have noticed any increasing bitterness in my tone, then kudos to you, I may not have expressed it properly here. I'd apologize for it but it doesn't really feel necessary to do so. I've begun to hate my headaches and doctors so much that I am seriously (actually seriously) contemplating quitting everything and going on an incredibly long road trip of indeterminate length until my untimely demise is brought about by some serial killer hitch-hiker picker-upper (last part:joke).
By quit I do not mean only my job, I mean my entire life. All my ties, responsibilities, all of the things that I cannot deal with because of my thinly veiled and, for some strange reason, often flaunted psychosis.
Would that be trading one junk heap for another, though? Would copying the actions of my father's youth bring me any more happiness, any less misery? Or is it that my spirit itself rots within me?

Hypomania, mania, insanity, sleep-deprived dementia, called it what you will. As of this moment there is nothing changed about me since last year, or the year before that, or the year before for as long as I can remember. I am just as aware now as I was when I was 5 years old (I know I've said this before); and I do not think I will ever change.
Writing these personal things in a public place, how childish must I seem to you, the Immortal You? Thinking the same thoughts I thought when I was thirteen years old, knowing full-well that all around me others are changing and learning and doing something with themselves, knowing full-well the capacities of the mind with which I was born and the things I could do if I were to use it, and finding myself unable to do anything but sit here in my depressed, strange little hole and stare out at the normal world.
I wonder, "What drives them?" I think to myself, "What makes them do the things that they do?" But I cannot answer these questions, nor could you, the Immortal You. Neither could one of you who possess the ability to walk on two legs understand why I lie on the floor night after night, wondering if my arms can move by conscious choice, or if it is something purely instinctual.
Grab, I think, grab the pen. I put all of my will, all of my mental power into the action of grabbing the pen, but my hand remains still. Then I simply stop thinking, I reach out and I grab the pen using the basic motor skills I have had since childhood, after wasting half an hour of useless time trying to will my arm to move. Oh yes, he's such an intelligent boy.
I constantly test out that idea, that I could think myself into moving without.... moving. I suppose that would be classified as some kind of telekineses, which is fair, I've tried that out too. Never does jack.

Grab all you bags and grab all your bitches, let's go inside and hit all the switches.

I wonder where all of us will end up? Will one of us die? Will one of us someday write in their memoirs, "Things were never the same for me since (friend) died."
What if it is me who dies? Despite my suicidal tendencies I have always felt a need to see this horrible play through to the end; call it masochism. Hell, there is pain enough. All I need now is a scary woman in a leather suit, I think Taylor could play that part admirably.
But what if I die? What if I die tomorrow? What things will I not have done? Is there some way out of my mountain of problems that I would have found the day after tomorrow?
Who is to say? Certainly not I. In any case, I think I finally feel like I can go to sleep, so goodnight ladies and gentlemen, I'll leave you with just a few more lyrics that mean an extra special lot to me.

SNIFF
Driving that train, high on cocaine
Casey Jones you better watch your speed
Trouble ahead, trouble behind
And you know that notion just crossed my mind

This old engine makes it on time
Leaves Hazard Station 'bout a quarter to nine
Hits Trouble Junction at seventeen to
At a quarter to ten you know it's drivin' again

Driving that train, high on cocaine
Casey Jones you better watch your speed
Trouble ahead, trouble behind
And you know that notion just crossed my mind

Trouble ahead, the lady in red
Take my advice, you'd be better off dead
Switchman sleeping, train hundred and two is
On the wrong track and headed for you

Driving that train, high on cocaine
Casey Jones you better watch your speed
Trouble ahead, trouble behind
And you know that notion just crossed my mind

Trouble with you is the trouble with me
You got two good eyes but you still don't see
Come round the bend, you know it's the end
The fireman screams and the engine just gleams

Driving that train, high on cocaine
Casey Jones you better watch your speed
Trouble ahead, trouble behind
And you know that notion just crossed my mind

And you know that notion just crossed my mind


Goodnight, and Merry Day-After-Christmas.

Incessant questioning; things I could never answer in good conscience.

My migraines have come back into their once and future power, I've been vomiting, missing work, and having to take massive amounts of pills just to feel well enough to sleep it off. So, I went to the doctor's office. He gave me 60 percocets and 60 klonopins. Percocets for pain and klonopins for the seizures the pain causes sometimes.
I have some news, for those of you who don't know, I am moving out of my house soon. This week, actually. I got a storage room to store most of my junk, and I am going to stay at Taylor's for a few months and save up most of my money so that I can put a down-payment on an apartment and stuff in a while. I might try to move in somewhere with Joe, but I might just get a place on my own. I mean, if I work 40 a week, I end up making a good thousand a month, which should be enough to afford a cheap apartment in taunton. My cousin says there are apartments in taunton that go for about 500 a month. I doubt I'll be able to afford internet, but I might be able to get a laptop with my christmas bonus this year and then I could talk to people online and write emails and update this here blog from "wi-fi hotspots".

I meant to write more, to get some more stuff out of my system, but my migraine is really taking a toll on my cognitive abilities; so I have to go. I'm going to try to get a cell-phone soon, so you guys can get in contact with me and stuff. Because I wouldn't want to lose contact with any of you, despite what it may seem like. I've just been going through a rough patch.

P.S. Darcy, I'll drop your records off at your house today.

I ran into Charlie Phogg
He blacked my eye and he kicked my dog
My doggy, he turned to me, and he said
"Let's head back to Tennessee, Jed."

Here I am on a terrible friday night by myself doing nothing, as opposed to being at Taylor's house on a terrible friday night with Taylor, doing nothing. I probably would be at Taylor's house, except driving my truck in the snow is (to inexcusably steal a line from Hunter S. Thompson) akin to galloping at full-speed on a horse wearing ice skates. Therefore I am kind of stranded, and I wouldn't ask anybody to come out in this horrible weather, so I am stranded all by my lonesome.
To make matters worse, Hillary couldn't make it to the shop today because of the storm, so I didn't get my check.
To make matters worse, even if I DID get my check (which I won't, until tomorrow morning anyway) it is for way less than I thought it would be for. Like, a hundred and fifty dollars less. I forgot about thanksgiving.
To make matters even WORSE, adult swim isn't on tonight. What the hell am I supposed to do with myself now?

Maybe I'll hang out with Brittany, that's always entertaining. Except she has Amber tonight. That would still be entertaining but it always makes me slightly uncomfortable when Amber insists that I am her boyfriend. Namely because I know that Amber's father would probably punch me in the face if he knew that I was the object of his three-year-old daughter's affections. I know, I think it's irrational too, but apparently he is mad about her saying that she has a boyfriend. And I am just no good at breaking hearts!

Long story short, it's not even 7 o'clock and this is already the most boring night of my entire life. I got used to at least being able to watch TV at night, but on friday nights even THAT is robbed from me. Isn't friday supposed to be exciting? I think it is for most people. At least it isn't friggin' tuesday. I usually just sleep tuesday nights off, because I hate them so much. Friggin' tuesday.

Maybe I will try to drive somewhere. I mean, it's a total adventure, not being able to move or steer or see, and going way faster than I should be going anyway. Everyone is at risk when I drive, no one is spared!
I endanger all humanity!!

Cold-iron shackled, ball 'n chain
Listen to the whistle of the evening train
You know you, about to, wind up dead
if you don't head back to Tennessee, Jed.

If I had a gun, I promise I'd be shooting myself in the face right now.
Cross my heart, seriously.

Where to begin?
I have a long list of complaints to share with no one but my own brain, I have an enormous burden to be borne by none but my own shoulders.
Here I am, once more staring the prospect of an untimely death in the face. Where do I go from here? I do not believe anybody knows the answer to these and many other questions.

A long time ago I found my way to a place that no man had seen before, it was a beautiful place before I entered it, but as soon as I set foot there it began to decay. By the time I had left it was a wasteland, filled with polluted muck and horrible, mutated life.
Stink follows me wherever I go, and I cannot rid myself of it.
Do you understand?