Progress

Building towards something. Moving kinda forward. Doing something or maybe not doing anything. Probably best to do nothing if there’s a chance of losing everything.

My therapist has me reading “When the body says ‘no’,” I guess that’s just where I’m at. Nope.

Prince of Persia

I loved that game on the PC then the xbox. On xbox it had music by Godsmack. That was so awesome, I thought it would just have a few songs, but it seemed they added music to all the fights in the game. Just a part of the game, any time any fight would start they would start playing. Coolest shit. I won a four pack of tickets to see Godsmack and Metallica from the radio station Q101. Blew my mind! I liked Godsmack more than Metallica after that. I wasn’t happy about the drums in St. Anger. I don’t know I think there’s too much snare. I’m all about those toms and bongos.

The story telling in Prince of Persia was just fun. Every time you’d die the Prince narrating the story would say “And then I died… oh, wait that’s not how it happened…” or something. I loved that. Made it funny to die, just like in the game The Lost Vikings. I played that game a lot with my old friend Danny. We died a lot, eventually the gods start making fun of your vikings. That Easter egg was just hilarious.

Fat Boys rock ruling

The last things to go through my head as I was dying was the lyrics to Rock Ruling, I had a tiny tape of them I used to listen to a lot. Fuck my fucking life. That can’t be true. No. Fucking embarrassing. Wow. I just don’t know. No. This fucking song makes me cry? You know I can sing Auld Lang syne to my mom to make her cry. It’s a good song though, I love it.

This is too funny I had to come back to it, I wrote the above mid mania.

And now it makes me laugh. I mean holy crap.

I was being crushed to death by my friends in wrestling in freshman year of high school singing a Fat Boy’s song in my head, because there was nothing else I could do but mock the fat fucks who were killing me. I was completely flattened, I couldn’t move, breath, talk, scratch, or bite. Not that I hadn’t tried everything. Not that they’d know. Just thinking about how hilarious that whole situation is. I feel like I forgot all about that song. I really like that song. Even the lyrics are great. Fat Boys had hilarious beat boxing. It’s like the longest oldest joke I forgot that I made to myself. Past me is a funny asshole. Good one, me.

Jeez, I had never felt like this before just overwhelmed. I had to take off work. I don’t know if I can go back. I just couldn’t stop writing. Now, I’m taking off time, seeing doctors, taking new prescriptions. A new prescription gave me back my appetite today, but I’m just so tired.

Troma movies

There’s this one Troma movie I remember seeing or at least I think it was Troma. That movie had aliens trying to break down a door. I just remember it because there were two aliens trying to bust down a door, then some chick alien stops them and makes them stand aside while she busts it down. They protest, but seem to let her go ahead. She just keeps slamming her ass on the door and the two guys just stand back and watch looking happy. I think they were chasing someone? They just forgot. That was hilarious, and I can’t find that movie or that scene anywhere. I’m typing things like “Alien ass shake,” “Troma alien ass,” “Troma door scene alien.” I could never find the scene. I’ll find that one day. If that was some DvD, that I lost somewhere that wasn’t Troma, I’m going to feel silly.

The impression that I get

Figuring things out takes a while. I bought a short book called the Dispatcher. Simple idea, no more murder. Great short story, one day murder isn’t possible anymore. Anyone who gets killed by another person just pops up naked at whatever they consider their home 99.99% of the time. Just home in bed. Like apocalypse stories, no one knows why it’s happening, they just deal with it, sometimes enjoyably. Suicide is death 100%, but if someone kills you you get a re-spawn. There’s a part in the book where the main character gets thrown down an elevator shaft at the end of a conversation he’s having with someone. He wakes up angry at home.

We had a nice dispatcher she was obviously sad after her husband had dies. She kept coming to work. I sent her away for a break and took over. She left her email open. She had been writing to her dead husband. It was by far the saddest shit I had ever read. All real, not glurge. Raw and sad. Why was she writing this on a shared work computer? Did she want me to see it? Did she want the IT people to read her email? Is she shooting up a flare? She came back from using the bathroom. I wanted to say something or anything, but this was not stuff I could talk about and not with her. I tried, and got called a spy and told to shut up and go away. I hate spying. I was shamed into silence. She’s dead now. We were told at work that she had health complications. I don’t think people are being honest. I don’t think they can be honest. All of it it personal and probably shielded by HR somehow. Never stopped bothering me. Did she left herself die? Did she just let her health go? Does everyone do that when sad? I get fatter when happy.

My favorite ex-fiance had an aunt who was dealing with stomach cancer. She couldn’t eat, nothing was helping. We all hung out and partied. She seemed so sad and the self deprecating jokes she said were disturbing. She seemed like she had something to say, but she never did.

I want my appetite back, I’ve been forcing myself to eat. I had been pushing myself a little too hard. Scared my little brother, but I mean when you’re usually pretty quiet, being loud is scary to people. He made my dad interrupt me, to check on me. My little brother doesn’t talk about anything, trying to change that. Maybe he’ll grow stronger.

Wow, just dawned on me

I made a playlist of songs for when I get a weird paranoid feeling. I gave that to my Ex’s brother. He was saying a bunch of dark stuff online after something happened. Seemed paranoid to me, so I sent it to him, I thought it would help. You know, maybe that was taken all the wrong way. Wow, no wonder she really seemed mad about that. I didn’t even think about that.

My dad dropped by

Checking on me since I’ve been so hyper. I had a lot to say, good times. Getting drunk with him some time seems more and more like a great idea. I ruined the surprise for him about the book I’m writing for them. Now he knows what I’ve been up to. I need to call him and tell him not to spoil it before he talks to my mom. I told him I had kind of been inspired by my aunt to speak my mind. Can’t stop speaking my mind, it is addicting and fun. Too fun, hence all the support. Told him about what had happened when I was a kid, and therapies I had been using, he seemed to understand. Glad my dad thinks all the writing is pretty cool. Had to explain why it’s going to sound like insane gibberish and angry writing. I’ve been trying to use writing therapy with the stream of consciousness writing, but not be so dull otherwise I’d be too bored to write. I do love Mark Forsyth’s books. Things tend to take dark turns, sounds scary and this is why people don’t think about this stuff. I’ve just been going for it.

A lot of the best stories start good and end bad, but I’ve really been trying to keep it positive and there’s only so much humor you can add into things. Until you go back to reread and fix it or add more. So much sounds so sad, but those are the memories you remember with all the good stuff too. Embarrassment come up a lot, but embarrassing memories are strong memories. It’s always funny to write about stuff you used to be embarrassed about. Got him laughing out the door. I told him I only use Lisa’s name in my stories, because I hate her for good reasons. He seemed to love that. He’s smart, always reading. He says he thinks I hit a huge moment of clarity. I can’t disagree with that, I have never not been down about this until now.

He keeps giving me more ideas of what stories to add in. He reminded me of some more great ones.

Sitting with your father

Sitting with my dad outside at Easter having a shot. I am afraid to drink with my dad. Always feel like I might break down, if I see him sad. I can’t. I could never look at my father like that. We cried over my brother enough you would think. It’s never enough. Nothing is ever enough. You want it all, but you can’t have it.

He brought up stories about Tony this time. He brought up a story I think I had already wrote about Tony getting fired from retail. He kept asking if I knew the name of the manager that fired my brother years back. A weird thing to focus on. I may get a little too animated talking about this stuff. It’s too fun. My damn nephew just can’t stop being annoying while I’m trying to talk with my father. “Just sit down and stop bothering me.” is what I didn’t have to say. I guess my dad could see just how annoyed I was, so I didn’t even need to yell that. My dad made my nephew get away. Good, little asshole has two fucking cell phones just constantly taking pictures of me and everyone. My mom takes constant pictures when no one is paying attention, so he gets that from her. I don’t stop anyone, but I really wish they would stop that habit. I don’t give my nephew enough slack. He’s acting out, being a little dumbass most times and unintentionally upsetting me by asking me when he could see my ex’s kid again. His dad is back in prison and his mom is a terrible dumb cunt. Sometimes I just want to start a conversation with my dad like “Hey, pops. You know who a dumb cunt is? Lisa! Ha! Right?!” My brother would do this. He was fucking great! If I drink with my dad, chances are I might ask that, hmm better not. But maybe. I don’t know what his reaction to something like that would be. It might be fun to find out. I might do it the more I think about it.

She really fucked with our parents, well the whole family. It’s hard to talk about your family problems with your family. It’s great when someone just does it anyway. My aunt who collected precious moments figurines was there with my grandmother. My aunt loves how much I rant. I guess she loves to hear me rant. She said “I’m glad you talk much more.” That made my day and only makes me want to be louder.

My grandmother was there, she makes fun that she looks like she’s got less hair than me. I fucking love that. She’s sad. I can feel it. When her husband died only my brother and I were in town so we went to grandpa’s funeral. A quiet family funeral with no drinking. It was just me and Tony, everyone else was on a cruise ship on vacation. Funeral processions are dumb. Tony turned on some Oingo Boingo while we took the dead man to the graveyard. Great music for it, singing walking with a deadman over your shoulder in your head while literally carrying a casket. Things need fitting music. Shit cracks me up, but no way in hell would I ever tell my grandma that.