RSVP for Nonsense

My brain is fairly fuzzy at the moment. I can't hunker down on one single thought.

That's a lie. I totally can focus on one thought. It is just that that thought hurts a little too much at the moment. I don't know if I want to dwell on it. Apparently sense of loss gets me to type on a keyboard. Good thing no one actually died. Sucks that it's loneliness.

I decided to listen to metal tonight. Not standard metal music. I have to nerd it up a bit. Metalocolypse: The Dethalbum. The first one. I have 3 of them. Songs about how the fish will rise from the water and take over the land. Not nearly as deep (puns!) as a Cthulhu mythos. Oh, and who could forget "Thunderhorse." That song even made it's way into Guitar Hero or Rock Band... one of those play fake instrument games.

Today was a mixed bag. I am not sure what to think of it. There really wasn't anything glaringly great about it. I got my work done. That's about the up-point. Sales were better then average. I got random text messages from people I usually don't get messages from. Good things.

I started carrying a notebook again. This time I actually have some things written in it! I didn't write anything in it today though. Probably why my brain can't focus on a topic to bitch about. That is all this stuff is. A forum to complain about things. Well, whatever gets me to actually write I guess.

Missing Rock Band

I miss Rock Band nights.

There were times when friends needed no excuse to get together. That doesn't happen any more. I would just show up at a friends house and we would go from there. It could be simply playing NHL'94 on a SNES or watching some bootleg copy of Sleepers. Events just happened. They weren't coordinated and planned ahead of time.

That spontaneity doesn't happen anymore. There needs to be reasons to go see friends. Schedules need to be checked and filled in with the appropriate date and time. Sitters need to be found for those with offspring. Work needs to have priority over fun. Someone needs to confer with their spouse to make sure it's all right. Permissions need to be granted.

I don't remember the last time I played Rock Band. I miss it. I don't own it. I gathered all my knowledge and skill in it from playing over friends' places. I like playing it. It calls for some timing skill, but more importantly, fun. You can choose the song you want to play. Show off in front of your friends. Make a fool of yourself. Have fun.

Rock Band was one of those social games that were broken out to enhance a party. It may not be the reason for an event, but it as always a good catalyst for activity. It gave a group of people something to do. There is a social convention of sharing involved too. People like playing, but they like seeing other people enjoying what they are enjoying.

I was never the biggest fan of singing. Yes, I am a giant nerd and sing when I am alone. I have multiple playlists on my computer of songs I could potentially sing in karaoke. That doesn't happen though. I am a coward in that respect. Still, Rock Band has multiple instruments. Don't like singing because of stage-fright? Fine, play the guitar or drums. Take a crack at it. What is the worst you could do? Fail? There really isn't any penalty aside from having the opportunity to try again.

There were points where I got so used to certain songs and their rhythm, that I would throw a little showmanship in the "performance". Jump and dance while playing guitar, twirl the drumsticks while nodding my head to the beat. All good fun.

Things have changed though. I don't play anymore. The opportunity just doesn't appear. Friends have drifted for a variety of reasons: work, family, break-ups, new relationships. Things constantly change. Still, I look forward to doing it again. I look forward to smiles, and laughter. Actual, honest to God, fun. I have seen it before. I would like to see it again. Sooner, rather than later.

Pretend Discourse on the Conflagration of Words

I am bored. It is a Friday night. Rather early Saturday morning. I am in a strange place at the moment. Writing seems like a proper outlet for  clarity. There won't be clarity. Vagueness is what this blog is all about.

I would like to say my mind is in a grey area, but that would be untrue. It is more of a marbled concoction. Like mixing black and white paint in a can before you start swirling. I have an idea where I am, and where I am supposed to be. I just wish those two things could meet, shake hands and get along. I know that is asking for a lot.

So, since this is well before my proper pass out time, I will sit here and type. I turned on some Deadmau5 to give me some sounds. Didn't want the proper burrowing of lyrics to invade my thought patterns. I'd rather settle for beats and pray for some semblance of meaning I can derive from their rhythmic pulsing.

I finished Season 5 of Californication. Got my Hank Moody on all well and proper like. I should really go back to watching X-Files. As much as I liked that show, I never finished it despite the man-crush on Duchovny. It was even the first long term show I collected the entire run of on DVD. Hell, I even seen the movies in the theater. I pretend to be a proper geek.

I want to say I identify with Hank Moody. The only thing I think I can see in him is his greatest asset. At heart, he seems like a decent guy. He just fucks up a lot. I can see that. I just don't allow myself to fuck-up at all. Fear. That is my hindrance. I can not just damn the consequences.

I think it's weird that Deadmau5 went from "Alone With You" to "Secondary Complications". Stop being a jerk, iTunes.

I also watched a comic book creator documentary on Grant Morrison called, "Grant Morrison: Talking With Gods." It was very good. Grant is a strange guy, but an interesting guy to listen to. For all the drug and alien talk, if you pay attention to what he is saying, there is a hidden meaning. He claims to have had shamanistic experiences, and who am I to doubt him. I think everyone can have something like that if they just pay attention to their lives.

Grant has written a torrid amount of work. I have read a good deal of it, but there is always more. When i was younger, I was introduced to his Animal Man stuff. I liked it because of how different it was, but I didn't truly understand it. It's one of those things that I should revisit. I have a ton, almost literally, of stuff to read. My brain craves to be expanded and filled with knowledge. Maybe, if I fill all the cracks in my brain, it will seep to other places and heal those places as well.

Booze Tears

Booze tears. It's what I got.

I had a weird night tonight. On top of my car giving me some trouble, my heart did too. Such is life though. I am surely an emotional being. I have never refuted that fact. I am seven beers deep and two yawns away from actually going to sleep.

I would like to say that tonight was fun. In a way, it really was. I spent some time with some friends I haven't seen in a while. Hell, I even saw the girl that made my heart go all a flutter a couple months ago. Don't worry, nothing else happened. I am too much of a pussy for that. Such is my life.

Fear was my main driving factor tonight. My car, my one true companion, nearly left me. A knocking sound nearly left me stranded many miles from home. The fear and worry pt a strain on my heart. I sat down and tried to watch movies, but failed miserably. They were even the Rifftrax versions. The guys that did MST3K produced audio commentary for various movies to breath new humor into them. I couldn't find the haha's though. Nerves kept my drinking in check and my suave-ness at a far reach.

After a safe trip home, the drinking recommenced. I had no trouble on the way home. I have a strange relation with my car. I want to hold it together through willpower. I actually think that works. It did for tonight at least. I didn't sense any problems. They are probably still there though. I just didn't want to be stranded so many miles from home.

I am not a solo drinker. I am not even that big of a drinker in general. I always say that there are certain nights that I can drink. Funny enough, tonight was one. Seven beers is nothing to scoff at in my opinion. I am not looking to win any competitions. I usually don't even drink alone. I have a weird aversion toward it. So, I am not much of a writer in that regard. Writers are supposed to drink. It's part of the initiation. I still haven't learned the handshake. Guess I need something adequately publish or read to get that far.

Oh well, I should get some sleep. Booze is coursing through my veins. My heart can only take so much. I don't know what I want. There admission is a sign of something, right? I just want to be wanted.

Conscious imagination

I just watched six and a half hours of Californication in a row. Part of my body wants to write, the other part is a headache.

I am fairly awake for it being 3:30AM. Could account for the lack of booze in my system. No downers for me this evening. Well, no downers unless you count the self-inflicted. Granted, I am usually awake at this unholy hour. Most people snuggled asleep somewhere. I sit alone in front of a computer tapping away on a keyboard. Hell, I'm not even listening to anything aside from that tapping. No music, no podcast, no background noise, save for the hum and whir of the window air conditioner two feet behind me.

Life is kind of strange right now. I will fully admit that. Details aren't for this here public forum though. Shit, I don't even know the extent of details anyway. Part of me sees everything as an illusion. Things just don't seem real. Memories float in and out grasping for a solid hold, but they flutter away. I remember as if a dream. Things just don't seem real.

I haven't written anything in a while. These blog things are purely stream of consciousness. I tend not to dwell to much on a format of things. Probably why I lack a coherent structure. Hopefully the next time I have the gumption to post something, it will have more validity and form. As for now, whomever reads this is just going to have to settle for late night word vomit.

Well, that was just a yawn. Time to attempt to pass out now.With luck, my brain won't betray me with thoughts to keep me awake. Let my dreams fuck with me this time. Conscious imagination sometimes gets the better of me.