ive written a short story about the unknown older brother of paris hilton, london hilton.  it follows him through a day in his life where you learn that he is addicted to plastic surgery, a drug addict, and has a little girl with a prostitute who connd him into it.  He goes to see a shrink who recommends him to a surgeon who agrees to removes his brain, ears, and eyes, and place them into a tank filled with nutrient water where he can stay alive forever, pain and body free.  unfortunately its not all its cracked up to be because he can't close his eyes.

its a short story about freewill and moral bankruptcy.

i'll post it once its completed.

Im tired of having to dumb myself down for people.  I think need to hang out more with my friends who understand me.  I believe that is limited to just two people.  going to atlanta at the end of the month will be a nice break.  i need to get away for a minute, and see good people.  neurosis, torche, coalesce, and pig destroyer is just the icing on the cake.

the interesting thing about working out everyday is that your brain processes things a little more effeciantly and clearly.  unfortunately one is forced to confront truths on a more regular basis.  in other words, i can see through more bullshit that i may have turned a blind eye to in the past.

hold strong, hold steady, fuck the rest. 

wha wha wha wha wha wha piss moan piss moan.
i hate myself and i hate all of you. fuck.  why does everything have to be this way? 
thats my impression of everyone. including myself.

i can't stop looking at people and inventing little stories for them.  Lately, I find myself having long conversations with strangers i've passed on the street over an hour ago.  I think its a good way to suppliment real drama in ones life.  Perhaps creating fictitious drama in my head keeps me from participating in actual drama that seems to constantly be in my face. 

i suppliment many things.  Like the lack of sex or intimacy in my life.  I replace that with going to the gym.  Im addicted to it more than ever.  I go everyday now.  It keeps me from going insane.  But sometimes, when im out in public, and i drink, i want to beat someones face in.  thats kind of a new feeling for me.  Im not usually proned to violence, but lately i feel like a roid head or something.  (AH ME FEEL STUPID PAUL SMASH). 

And holy shit, if you wanna know the meaning of frustration, I ask you to go to your local community college and taking a creative writing class.  Nothing is more painful then listening to a philistine explaining their "writing process".  I shit you not, more than half the class litterally said that they were into writing about three things, 1. vampires 2. world of warcraft 3. elves.  I found it so funny/disturbing that when the extremely attractive teacher asked me what I wrote I said, "well your not gonna believe this but i to love to write about vampires, wow, and elves.  I am currently working on a story now about a magical boy wizard, who goes to a wizard school in england."  the teacher looked at me with open empty eyes and started to shake her head up and down, and was like ok, cool.  Then the kids in the class spoke up and was like, "that sounds like harry potter!"  I was shocked that everyone took me seriously and i was forced to promptly say, "im just fuckin with yall.  I write about freewill and moral bankruptcy."  the look of relief on the teachers face was priceless.  i guess it was a bad opening joke, but then again i am the king of that. out of a class of 20 or so, i was the only realist. disturbing.

now im gonna go work out again. then get some pills! pills! pills! pills! pills! pills! pills! pills! pills! pills!

to evacuate ones dirty flesh with one parts ember two parts death.

And so I sat, a soft right angle of good man
half gone against the door of my last choice in life's back.
Sifting throught the whites of what one still can look foward to,
after the swift evacuation of ones sturdy skeleton and once trusty flesh.
and there I sat quite light like, in the cradle of the Cancel Eyed Stare,
seperating myself from my effects and the other way around.
When her pull usurps the moon
on both seas and blood of every emptyhopefull ticking.
when our children's children cut choice from their empty only
and the consumption will come
and the two become one
and all shall go done.
amen

I hate holidays.  I suppose I find it sad that people need to set aside certain days to be kind to eachother.  It depresses me even further to know that kindness is synonamous with buying people things.  I hate the idea of holding one day above all others.  What about the people that work during the holidays?  How many thanksgiving dinners and x-mas mornings do the working poor actually get to enjoy?  I know for me it has been at least 6 years.  I suppose I would have a different outlook on these holidays if I knew for a fact that everyone was taken care of, and that everyone had the day off.  Untill then, the holidays are just another work day, except more busy, and with an air of hopelessness.

"No Funeral" or "D.N.R.- Do Not Resisitate".
My first choice was "Bad As I Wanna Be", but Dennis Rodman already got that one.

What are you supposed to do when a rather large, old lady comes into your place of employment sporting nothing but a belly dancers outfit that she is forcing you to look at as she orders her latte.  Wrinkled skin, and a body that moved like pudding screaming attention to herself for the sake of halloween.  Do you aknowledge the costume? Do you ask her to put a coat on? Or do you treat her like a wall you walk by, or let her wax her ego like windexing a mirror.  Days that are supposed to mean anything just depress me.  The highlite of last night was the old cat that sat in the cafe and was convinced of two things, One, that the world was supposed end sometime after midnight on halloween,  and that the radiotowers around his apartment were using microwave radiation to cook him alive slowely.  There is an appeal to the apocolypse.  The difference between me and christians is that there concept of the end is a kingdom of heaven waiting for them in some after life.  For me the idea of life continuing after death is appalling.  My idea of the end is that of nothingness.  Nothingness without end.  Nothingness is peace, and as Vonnegut said, "life is no way to treat an animal".  Yeah, the apocolypse is a sexy utopia, but its just a utopia.  The world is gonna end as slowly and painfully as possible.  "not with a bang, but with a whimper."