Friday, July 8, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 88

I haven't gone anywhere or really did anything all day.

I don't have an excuse. None of us do. This. What is happening in America is our fault.

I was already feeling anxious seeing as two police related shootings happen in basically a span of 24 hours. Oh it wasn't the fact that they were black and were wrongfully shot; in some sick way I'm desensitized to that. What disturbed me most were that police had the upper hand. Physically in one case. In the other, a citizen obeyed the law. They did not escalate the situation yet somehow...

Now a police shooting where police have been slain, right behind this and the shooter is black.

I'm not going to lie, I was hoping he wasn't. It's the closest to prayer an atheist can get.

And don't give me bullshit about why. You can't. If you're not ethnic or male and definitely not if you've never been a black male. Logic forbid a black woman. Pathos, Ethos, and Logos...our black women...

Who weeps for them? Who weeps for us? Who protects us?

No one. No one is protecting Americans from Americans. When our children were slaughtered in class rooms, we did nothing. When innocent people were killed in a movie theater, we did nothing.

And when black people are gunned down by the people who are suppose to protect us....

We do less than that. We get hot for about five seconds and then. Nothing. Because on some basic level we know nothing will get done.

I'm tired. I'm black and I'm gifted and I love the fuck out of this country but I'm fucking tired.

Are you on my side America? If so, then why do you let me and mine die? Why do I have to get used to my black people dying? Huh? But you want me to hate these terrorists? You want me to support this war? You want us to be one nation?

But. You let. Me. Die?

How does this fucking sound to you?! You mean to tell me that if I comply and do everything short of shucking and jiving, that I could still die? And you won't stand up for me when you know I died wrong?

Philando died fucking wrong and I'm tired.

I'm tired of excuses. I'm tired of mass shootings day in and day out and people telling me, well I have to have my Second Amendment rights so...

What about my fucking right not to die just because I go somewhere at the wrong time? Fuck that fucking shit! Don't fucking tell me that your right to have a gun trumps my right not to be shot by you! Just fucking stop it!

No good guy with a gun bullshit. Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously?

Ask any military trained person how a real firefight turns out. Go ahead.

There's a reason veteran's hate fireworks. There's a reason PTSD exists.

So if the men and women that serve in our armed forces are messed up from doing their duty...what in the actual hell do you think somebody that just has a permit is gonna do in a mass shooting?

I'm fucking tired. I'm just dizzy. I'm tired of this.

I don't just worry for me. I don't just worry for my black friends. I worry for everyone. America isn't keeping its own safe. We can't get any sort of legislation passed to at the very least deter gun violence. Nothing!

Time and time again, people of color, women,gay, lesbian, transgendered and just plain everyone are getting killed and no one can do anything. They won't protect us from us and we are fooled into thinking that somehow we can do so ourselves.

That everyone having a gun makes us all safe.

Unless your black. Because after all this time. All this suffering. All this injustice. All this marching...I'd have to give up my gun. To make someone else, who also has a gun, feel safe.

I'm tired. I'm tired of being black in this country.

I'm a big black guy. One false move, or not, and I could be seen as a threat.

Then I'll be dead.

You'll have pictures about me on Facebook. You'll be angry. Maybe sad. You'll hold a vigil.

And nothing will change.

That's the most galling part of it Journ. My death will ultimately amount to nothing because hell, they basically lynched Sandra Bland and nothing was done. Trayvon Martin, shot after a dispatcher told this guy not to engage him. He walks.

Not only that, but he tries to sell the murder weapon on the internet.

I'm tired. It's almost farcical now. We are caught in this whirlwind of violence and social inequality and we're just too lazy, or too selfish, or too numb...

I don't know. I really don't.

And that's why, I'm seriously considering leaving this country for somewhere else. Soon. Just packing my shit and leaving and not turning back.

Because it's too fucking illogical. If I obey this officer, who is supposed to protect me, I can still die. I won't have a weapon. I won't have any drugs. I won't do anything threatening. I won't be rude.

But five shots either way.

And though the mentally ill or a terrorist, shouldn't have any guns, we've got people actively fighting for their rights to possess them. Not gonna point any fingers because shit, everybody's doing it. The NRA...


And I'm just fucking tired. I mean...I fear the people who are supposed to protect me and that fear is not irrational. As a black man...I am a target and there's nothing I can do about it and nobody's going to do anything about it for me...

I'm not safe in the country I was born. The place I pay taxes. Where I obey the law. Where I own land. Where I mind my own business.

I can't really call this place home can I? Would you?

So I don't know Journ. This is a pivotal time for me. People don't understand what it's like to fear for your life and to not be able to do anything to ensure it.

I sincerely wish I was being dramatic Journ. I wish this was just satire or a joke or just me being extra.

But it's really not. I didn't want to go to the gym because it's in Lake Mary, where you can get stopped for nothing.

For you see, when they run your plates and they find out that your record is clean, suddenly, your break light is out....

Do you understand Journ? Does anyone not comprehend how many levels of bullshit that is? Because I'm not making that up. This has happened to me several times.

And I can't dammit. I won't.

I don't wanna die for nothing.

My life isn't perfect. I've made bad decisions and I'm not where I want to be but fuck, this is my goddamn life. The only one I'll ever have. I don't want it to end with me shot in my goddamn car!

That's all I want America. Some semblance of safety. Some kinda recognition for my humanity. Empathy. I'm not a thug. I'm not a drug dealer. I'm not a terrorist. I'm not any of these fucking things so stop killing me like I am goddammit! I'm an American. Treat me like you swear you do! If we're the Land of the Free then why am I wearing chains?! Stop giving me lip service!

Stop asking me to bleed for you when you don't do shit for me!

I'm tired. Everyone is tired. Tired of seeing the President have to make a speech to say the same goddamn thing, over and over and over again!

I'm just fucking exhausted with us! There is a problem. We are Americans. Aren't we smart? Then let's fix this fucking shit! Let's figure out what to do!...

But you're not are you?

And that's why I'm dying. Not from bullets. I'm running myself ragged. Trying to figure out how I'm going to make to work and back without being pulled over. Because if I do, I could get shot.

I could die. Doing what is expected of me as a law abiding citizen.

So let me get this out the way: If I ever get pulled over, detained, restrained or otherwise have a run in with the police, I did not resist because I was trying to get home to my family. I was trying to live. I was trying to see another day. I wanted to realize my dreams. I wanted to have a home and maybe a wife, and who knows? I might have changed my mind and wanted kids. But because of that, know that I didn't antagonize the police in anyway so that they had to use deadly force. If they say I committed suicide, I did not. Why? See previous statements.

And you know what? I have to fucking say this. I have to Journ. For public record. I have to make sure that should I die at their hands that none of the bullshit they say sticks. I've got to make sure that everyone knows that things aren't true because as a black male, being a victim means being on trial.

I'm tired of seeing Americans die and us not being able to stop it. My hands are tied if yours are. Maybe more so.

I feel awful Journ because I'm not even playing. I might have to leave everything I know behind, just so I can survive in this world. I'll have to be a refugee. I'll have to see what I can do with whatever I have. And what about my friends? My family? What do I say to them? Will they take me seriously? Will think this is a game?

I don't want to Journ. I really don't.

I just know that I'm not safe here. I can get shot down just for going outside.

I shouldn't have to live in fear of living.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 87

It's always awhile but I think maybe you'll see too much of me Journ.

Days become significant when you chip away at yourself. It is not to tear everything down but to cut away that which is unnecessary.

Self reflection is the most intimate form of masochism.

So through you I shall see more of myself. Perhaps this your chance Journ to punish me.


I had to unfriend two people on Facebook today.

To paraphrase Superman on Robot Chicken, "That whole sentence is stupid."

I don't really take the Internet too seriously, Facebook less so.

However, right after the tragedy at Pulse, people had a lot to say but not a lot of brains behind saying it.

The first said something in response to something he posted. Long story short, he said something like Now I know they were killed and that's bad but if they're gay, they are going to hell.

The second was in the same vein of irrational phobias.

Now I posted some meme saying that the actions of a few Muslims doesn't mean we all think Muslims are bad. Some of us get it.

My friend who is Muslim said thanks.

This other one though, launches into a tirade that I won't even dignify by repeating. It was illogical, childish, and ignorant to the point of farce. It would've been remiss of me not to apologize to my friend, who just sold me a great car, on the behalf of a man child.

Religion is garbage. Always. Mark Twain had a good quote about it that summed it up perfectly. It's like people get a generalized fairy tale that's alright to have because there are many others duped into believing the same thing. It's actually just a nuanced form of social control used by the rich to get poor people to do what they want.

And who wouldn't want you to devalue the lives of 49 people shot to death by a mentally ill individual?

And who profits by making an enemy out of your own countrymen? My Muslim friend is more patriotic then I shall ever be and that is no hyperbole. He has a brother on the police force. He's passed on his love of comics to his son. He's more American than me.

Those 49 people were human beings that didn't deserve to die. To dismiss them because of your narcissitic delusion is sickening. It is the same attitude people adopt when Sandra Bland was killed. It is the same purview that says the right to own a gun trumps the right not to get shot by one.


I write to unload my mind Journ.

Please don't take this a money shot joke.

Anxiety is a many layered thing. You always have this picture of eyes darting about, sweating, or some nervous tick. As if a loud sound will startle them like a skittish cat.

But it's not. It is more akin to a tea kettle whistling or a traffic jam with everyone honking.

It is too many worries at once. Illogical or logical. There is hardly a difference for all of them need some level of attention correct? You wouldn't have noticed these things if they really didn't make difference to you?

Thus, you split your attention and that's the problem. You can't Journ. You can't keep your eye on every little detail of your life. You want to. You feel you should. That's the adult thing to do. You manage things so that they don't get out of hand. Life doesn't always allow for that though if ever.

For my own experience, I know where my anxiety started. It's trauma. You know this Journ.

I remember screaming and crying myself to sleep after that, doubly so if the lights weren't on until the point my mother one night just shut the door on me.

Cruel? Perhaps. I learned to self soothe from it which is why I hardly need reassurance from people.

It helps Journ. In a world where you are bombarded with expectations both real and imagined, you must step back. You must become detached and masochistic.

I literally step out of myself at times. Even after all these years of doing it, it is still strange.

Yesterday I felt anxious. Problems started to stack. I wasn't paid my money on time. The septic tank is acting up. I have to pay the house insurance soon. I have to get these gaskets on. I hope it won't be to expensive. Will it be? On top of this other stuff I have to do with this money I don't have? Will I have time to study? Will I be ready for this test? Can't I be doing more? I really need to clean everything. Will I have time? Help? What other stuff on this car will I need to fix?

All logical concerns, but being concerned with concerns doesn't get anything done.

I step back. I visualize always.

I'm in a janitor's jumper. I'm grumpy. What the hell have I done to mess this place up this time? Gotta rearrange all this shit. Put it in some got dang order or I'm gonna chew myself out about it.

This goes here. If he doesn't have your money, he can get the fuck out.

That goes there. Survive until the next check. Don't spend money on shit.

Why is this even here? Make a list of things to do. Don't invent problems. Solve the ones you have.

Might want to clean this off. You'll make time to study because you'll make a plan to do so.


Adult people not being able to adult is becoming pandemic.

Maybe there ought to be class in college for it.

Or a least some human should make money off teaching people what they should already know.


My anxiety extended to my writing. It's been eating at it for the last few months.

Probably because reading makes me think my stuff isn't good enough for someone to read. I tried the approach of writing things down to make things easier but now I'm editing my notes which isn't productive.

I hate not being able to get on this horse and ride off into the sunset like I want to. I love writing. It's like talking to yourself through a medium where other people read your thoughts.

I've had all these ideas lately and their scope intimidates me. I'm overthinking what I've been thinking about.

The worse part of it is, intellectually, I know that you really don't have to be a good writer to sell. I could name names but I'm not. I am critical of myself though because I feel I should know better.

I need to learn how to draft it out. If drawing Pokemon everyday has taught me anything it's that redrawing something right is easier than trying to draw it perfect.


Sometimes, well all the time, I wish I'd win the lottery so I can give the money away to people who have done right by me.


Sometimes, definitely not all the time, I wish I was stupid enough not to realize why I shouldn't be confident.


Loneliness is failed solitude Journ. Remember that. Not everybody that sits by themselves isn't secretly waiting for you to chat with them. There are people that just want to be left alone. I am one of those people.

If I'm not bothering you, don't bother me. This is my motto for the most part.

Small talk is a turn off. Why are you talking about banal stuff just to...I dunno, talk? What is that? Seriously? Why do people feel the need to make noise about nothing?

Honestly, I don't like to play the mean black guy stereotype but if that's what it's gonna take for you to stay out of my face, no problem. I don't care. Just don't bother me.


One of my friends got her tongue re-pierced recently. We talked about it beforehand and she asked me if I wanted to get anything pierced. I said no to which she responded But you're into so many things!

This is not the first time I've heard a variation of that.

It doesn't bother me. It intrigues me. What does that mean exactly?

This is one of those questions that I wish I could design a survey or some sort of ballot box thing going on.

What I didn't tell her was that at one point I did consider getting my tongue done but I would've only gotten for cunnilingus purposes. Apparently I don't need it. One of my nipples were considered but it chafes too much for my liking.


I need more tattoos.

Cheap artist. High quality. I need them now.

There's no more to that. I just do.


I hate to quote Nietzsche as I have conflicting views about him as a philosopher.

Happiness is the feeling that power increases-that resistance is being overcome.

I'd like to say this is not true. In the context of modern society, it would explain a great deal of our actions. I believe that money is nothing but that purely-power. It is the ability to keep your electricity on. It is the luxury of buying things after your needs are met.

Thing is, money isn't real. In fact, only eight percent of currency today is physical. The rest is digital. Just points really.

Yet Journ, me and all I know are affected by money's loss or gain yet we aren't in control of what money is or what it does or who keeps track of it.

I cringe at doing something I hate for stupid reasons but I cringe more at the fact that few understand how stupid it is.

Is anyone a ubermensch I wonder? Does anyone constantly constantly gain power? Are things easy for them to overcome? And if such a being exists, should we fear or revere it?

Seriously, I need to write Superman being a jerk.

Monday, May 23, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 86

I like to think of it as proof of life Journ.

Honestly, I don't like filling this blog with too many of these Journals but I needed to do this one today(and before work even).

There have been two things I've been abstaining from since the 23rd of last month, porn and Facebook. Facebook I took a break from because it became too much of a distraction. It was like, Why am I ingesting all of this information? Is it helping? Can't I just find Dorkly and all that other shit on Google?

Not saying I'm quitting it altogether(I have genuine friends I like to keep up with)but I can't let it be a central part of routine online. I'm trying to get shit done.

Why did I quit watcing porn? A myriad of reasons Journ but it wasn't until I was high as Hell outside the night before did I realize why.

Porn, especially professional porn, lacks connection and intimacy.

And before you say, I love Amber Swallows though! understand that on a level I do too. I just don't really connect with seeing her fuck a guy and me whacking off to it.

I know some of my friends don't like The Carmichael Show(and I actually agree with them on some points on why I too find it cringe worthy)but the recent episode they had about porn raised a lot of good points.

One of things I hated about porn was scheduling, same as I do Facebook. It makes it Mundane I guess? The instant gratification alone kind of bores me. Most of the Internet is literally porn. It's not like I had to pay for it or anything. It was just there and when I was bored just there took up a lot of my time.

Back to the show. Naming porn stars. Types of porn. Shaming people for watching it. Having it be tawdry and yet so common place I suppose put the final nail in the coffin so to speak.

Honestly Journ, you know what I think about all the time watching porn? I wish I had an actual woman here. To feel. To touch. To moan with pleasure. Even when porn performers(because that's what that is performing, I mean, three positions always?)enjoys what they do, you know there's nothing between them and their co-workers accept money. I won't judge them for that; we all gotta do what we gotta do...

Just watching them kinda makes me bored and sad.

I think honestly, the only porn I could enjoy now is amateur porn and that's if I actually know the person. The possibility of being able to do the things that I see to the person that's doing them fires up my brain. Who knows? I might be stupid enough to make some myself.

And if I never do, I can always write about the dirty stuff I do or at least translate it into hentai.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 85

A friend asked me a pertinent question Journ.

It's quite apparent I haven't been blogging like I should. The gap isn't felt globally but personally, it has left a yawning abyss of self loathing where it used to be.

Perfect way for a writer to begin.

Self reflection is existential masochism. Nothing says emotional flagellation like looking at yourself objectively and realizing you're a shit human being. Try it. I dare you Journ. The void is going to stare back into you. It will not be impressed.

This does make for good writing though. Knowing you're not the greatest person makes you aware that most people aren't. Flaws make us interesting. I mean, how many people do you know that make gossip about how good someone is doing? We like to pick and prod and judge because doing it to yourself is difficult.

Long winded I know but this is a personal slash I-hope-someone-will-pay-me-to-do-this type deal so forgive me my little soap box.

Which brings me to my next point: sex. Who do you talk about sex with?, I was asked. My answer: no one really. I usually blog or write about. It's like I'm having conversations about it all the time in a fashion. Stories and random bullshit because really, who reads this? Not saying anything about the people that actually do(I love you guys and thank you)but no one gives a shit about a shit person. Especially not on the web.

Now being fucked silly Journ is a humbling and joyful(I'm totally referencing Kaminari Denki's pic here). First it has to be goddamn motherfucking magic for sex to knock off I.Q. points. Like, I was trying to open her door to leave and for the life of me, twisting a knob turned me into a raccoon with a Rubix cube. Ironically, if not that then perfect timing, she actually said Hmm I fucked you stupid.

You know Journ, I'm not the best at sex ever. Never gonna be idiot enough to even begin to believe that but I do pride myself  on being, I dunno, competent? Like some of the things I do are sinfully sophisticated.

But I almost ran into a guy in the middle of the night as I was looking at him. Was I giddy Journ? No. I wasn't, just fucking dumb with endorphin. Goddamn drunk. Went to the Wawa's . Had to remind myself after I paid for gas that I was gonna have to pump it because I was damn positive I'd forget.

And I didn't but I did forget to take the gas cap off. You need to do that too.

The other time, I swear on Einstein, I could feel a la k of blood in my brain. Thoughts slowed to a crawl. Trying to get my bearings and failing miserably at it. I said, blood not letting brain think good or something to that effect.

She got three times out of me. Hopefully I get those points back or I'll never make it to MIT.

I'm pretty sure the flood of feel goods have to do with me working out. Something about blood circulation or some such thing. For myself I know, that after a workout...

Like I need a workout buddy that's as ready as me. We workout together. Motivate each other and shit. Critique exercises. Then we get a quick shower and then, a quick nut.

Wow. I can dream though.

Why do I think of such perverted things Journ? I believe it 's normal enough but I have long planned out fantasies and shit. I'm not gonna mention the Red Hand(where would one get a glove and tie died to match?)or work.

Fucking work.

One of the few redeeming qualities about my job is the women you get to see on the daily basis walking in and out. The guys that were with me awhile ago checked out women all the time. I of course am circumspect in my observations.

Thing is, I gotta keep my freak on a leash. Literally in some cases. I think about it like this; its pretty much a given that if I see a attractive woman, my intentions are to fuck her initially. And though I know nothing of women nor their daily struggles, I think it's safe to say they meet a guy like that daily. So I never think that me wanting to fuck a specific woman should as special. It's not unexpected. I'm a guy.

And so I don't bother. Some attraction shouldn't be acted upon. I can't be with every woman I see. That's unrealistic, stupid, and ,dare I say it, disrespectful. Besides, I get off on mutual attraction any way .

Because there is no better sex than when the lust is shared by both.

I have to start drawing my hentai soon! I've been drawing Pokemon everyday in the meantime(story for another blog)and I've actually been doing decent. It's all about shapes, angles, and perspective it seems. Hands still suck. Feet not so much but...

I wanna draw naked people doing stuff! Shit! I'm feeling so fuckin' impatient about this Journ! It's like I can't bend Earth yet? I'm the damn Avatar. What the fuck?

Same friend, I tell her the only reason I know about Overwatch is because of the hentai.

I don't apologize for that because she seriously has some good stuff. You're welcome in advance Journ.

Or League of Legends for the matter. Again, no need to thank me.

And it's like, shit, I can be drawing better things than that. If only I had the power! Tumblr would be mine I swear. I'm gonna have to get a separate sketch book so I can, uh, experiment and stuff.

Also writing. Something quick and sleazy, like fucking behind a porno store.

Do they even have those still? I mean, internet...

And the only reason I really got into Boku no Hero Academia?

Tsuyu. Asui. On Gelbooru. Not even lying.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 84

I just LOLed for real Journ. I literally haven't blogged for a month. Like, if you checked your dates, this post will be a month and a day behind the last.

And adding insult to injury, yesterday was my birthday.

You'd think shitty blogger that I am, at least I would've made a blog about it on the actual day. Nah. None of that. Birthdays from now on are Sloth Days. Don't expect me to do shit I don't want to do.

Fuck that Journ, that's my time.

Oh. If you're not on a Gravity Falls marathon, then I don't what to say to you. I mean...fuck Hirsch you're killing me! It's over?! It can't be! How dare you leave me with such profound melancholy?

It's so good. Like cheesecake or great sex or better still, eating cheesecake after great sex.

It's all so kinda dark. I hate to say it but I'm actually impressed that Disney took a chance on it. There's also the Rick and Morty nod which makes it extra surreal.

You'll pardon me if I meander a bit here Journ. It's not so much that I have to update you on what has happened or that I have much to say. It's more in the line of me having little to say about many things.

I was talking with the Clone one day. It meandered from setting up espers, pact beasts, and deities in the game to work. Not wanting to dwell on it's more intolerable aspects, I asked if a woman who works there had a boyfriend. My brother corrects me. She's married. She has been looking at the both of though. Her being in a committed relationship somehow intrigues me. Thus, I question my own morality. I might just write a story about it.

Trap music is garbage. Personal opinion here but listening to Trap Queen left a bad taste in my ears. If they could only vomit sound.

This is what's popular now. I am disturbed. I want to rap again. My flow is pretty good. My content is questionable at times.

But a friend yesterday made it simple for me. You've got to sound good and you've got to have something to say. That is something I can grasp. The thing is Journ, I can't be like these other rappers. I have to find my own thing completely separate from what's going on now.

It's like having a rubix cube for a sword. Pay attention.

I'm finding putting the head into extreme angles pretty daunting. They say you can picture it as a box. That helps a little but not much. It's basically made of two shapes. A cone and a sphere. Moving around the sphere is easy. Even the cone is a shape easily managed. The two overlapping is a puzzle.

But I keep failing at it and will continue to do so because the goal is worth it. Until I can officially go back to school for it, teaching myself is the best I can do.

And as a side note, how meta is drawing what you see? As a sentient being, you're basically the universe observing itself. But to observe yourself and then to create something completely different from what is observed.

Are you then not only the universe observing itself but a universe reinterpreting itself?

Sometimes when I dream I know it means something.

But the why of it eludes me.

In the last dream I was on a farm. Or something akin to one.

Do you know Journ that sunsets are horrible for those that wear glasses? You get more glare than necessary.

I was shading my eyes. There were kids frolicking with dogs and a pet pig I think. They were in uniforms but not like the school variety.

I sighed. School was over and so were their other lessons. They had no reason to be in uniform still. They should be home with their parents and yet...

They called me something. What I don't remember but they heard I'd be here with the-the cattle? I felt there was some sort of animal involved. They had found me though and they wanted...a story? I'm not quite sure but they all gathered around...

Which reminds me. Someone once told me I'm destined to be a leader.

There are times where I feel the urge to do so. For what reason, I don't know. I would think it selfish to lead someone for my own ambitions purely. I also think it equally unethical for me to lead purely because someone wished me to.

At the same time, I'm not built to blindly follow anyone or anything. I think I might be incapable of that save for a life or death situation.

I try to question my logic for I know that by virtue of being human, my logic is inherently flawed. If I do such for myself, why not others? It's not a matter of distrust. It's just logical. Humans are self interested by design. The way we think is clouded by our desires.

So what did I desire in the dream? What do I desire in reality? What is the logic of desire in either scenario?

Every time I dream, I lead. People trust me. Somehow, I've proven myself capable. In reality, I have not done this and in a fashion, I don't really desire to. Leadership is hard. It's lonely. You're Sacrifice. You have to make a choice even when all of them are bad. That's not something I'd wish on anybody.

I suppose Journ you could weather it if you didn't give a fuck about people. You know, if their disdain or disapproval didn't mean much to you. Oh wait...

Now I was drinking last night. It was my birthday so fuck it.

I don't often come around my friend's house because my work schedule is garbage but I'm going in late today so I could sleep off a hangover if need be.

So we're talking, which is to say, he's doing more talking than me. Which is cool because I'm not chatty anyway and the air is foggy.

The conversation somehow meanders to me. He goes on to say I should feel myself more. I kinda agree in my noncommittal fashion. Then he says how many women I could have if I did.

Now Journ, I'll let you in on a secret. During any given interaction or observation, I detach myself and observe it. It's kinda like I'm watching what I'm watching. A little me sitting in a control room drinking coffee and being skeptical.

Could I Journ? I wonder sometimes if it's my imagination that women are staring at me. I cannot imagine why. Seriously. My brain kinda goes fuzzy to think of it. But what if?

Plus, if I do rap and it goes somewhere logic forbid, I'd have to work on some kind of image right? It stands to reason.

I never consider how I look. Again. Brain fuzzies. It's like the little me isn't diverting brain power to that. I mean, I would like a female friend to take me shopping and dress me. Why? Because I have no idea what I'm doing fashion wise. Again, no brain power allotted.

Pay attention Journ. Things are connected.

When I write, it's basically creating something out of daydream. To me, a daydream can be more intense because you're somewhat aware of it.

A character or a story for me is born this way. The other parent is waking reality. Something I've seen or experienced being reinterpreted and paired with something fantastic.

I told a friend recently that I have new ideas for stories and what have you daily. I have no doubt that she believed me but I don't think she understood the profundity of that admission.

While I was listening to music with my friend, he was kinda freestyling a bit. Me? I was writing words in my head and repeating them so I wouldn't forget.

A story like Twin Peaks is stuck in my head. A romantic comedy. Sort of like a K-drama I think. In fact, one of the main characters looks Korean. The other lead is an African American woman. It sort of felt right that she be that way. There is weirdness abound but it's not so much horrifying as it is mysterious and awkward. So far fairies, a sphinx, an alien with a broken ship, and a vampire are involved.

I've been thinking about the practicality of exoskeleton for awhile now. I run into two problems always. Powering it and how bulky it is. It's not feasible to think of an exoskeleton moving in precise tandem with a user, as by definition it has to move around the body. I love Iron Man but technically none of that holds weight in reality. So far, I've sacrificed the notion of an exoskeleton that moves all together at once. If it moves in parts at certain times it's more believable. Maybe you need to leap off a building. Preparing a skeleton to do just that could work. Also, the thought of synthetic muscle fibers in tandem with a skeleton has promise as an electrical current stimulating it might use less energy..

The next bit of smut I put out is going to be inappropriate because that's just where I am now. I mean, if you can't do somethings in real life and not have consequences, why not write it out? I don't exactly know what her name was but she was a character in The Underneath stories I wrote. She's perfect for it. I mean, the last scene I wrote her in had all her orifices filled. I know men and women shame women for being sexual but I find that shit liberating. I mean honestly, you want your woman to do this and that for you, where do you think she's gonna learn it? Suddenly, for you, she's a porn star? Just like that? Unrealistic how we as men are lauded for our whoredom but women are supposed to be whores who were never whores? Oxymoron.

And I'm thinking of putting a coalition of sorts together which I suppose goes back to leadership in a fashion. It's more of a business promotion thing I believe. I'd like to help out local businesses and charity if possible but, I've no idea how to go about it...

Ideas Journ are always bouncing around in my head, begging to be made into reality. At thirty three, I'd think I'd have come to some epiphany about life but I haven't. I believe because life is a daily epiphany of sorts. You have to remind yourself why you're here and what you're doing. Perhaps that always stays the same. Maybe it changes. Maybe I try to go after women more now. Maybe I just keep respecting them as human beings. Perhaps some joining of the two.

I only know to follow my bliss. Writing and drawing is bliss and so, I follow these things for now. Sex is also in there along with anime. That'll work until it doesn't.

In the mean time, keep in mind...

Saturday, January 23, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 83

So my GameBoy was stolen at work.

They left the games though which indicate that they're probably going to sell it or play it. An opportunistic snatch. Ratchet criminal handiwork.

I am not angry though. I've got the games. I was just playing Super Smash Bros on it anyway. I still have Fantasy Life which I was meaning to get back to anyway. I can probably look online for another DS or just go for the 3DS. Or just skip all of that and start saving for a PS3.

Or better still, not have a distraction while I study.

The car got hit too I think. The left side of the front bumper is gone, exposing the wheel. It's like the car has half a jaw now.

But it's clean though, the break is. The rest of the bumper is intact. It's past due for me to try and get a new car. I'd like to believe the universe is just telling me to get on with that. It drives alright and it's not like I'm driving to Jacksonville or across country. It will due until I can find something better.

I was buying Alka Seltzer at the gas station on Orlando Drive and Airport Boulevard. We just had dinner at IHOP and as it's right across from there, convenience demands we drop by there. I go around the store looking in their meager medicine display before spotting them behind the counter. I ask for two. I hand him my money. He puts it on the counter as my hand is out, awaiting my change.

No. Never again shall they have my business. Do not disrespect me and think you can have my currency. I actually find it refreshing to know that somebody thinks themselves better than me when they obviously aren't. It's comical really that any human should feel superior to another. It is a sign of low intelligence to even entertain the idea. Irony at its finest.

My friend told me about a guy that got too fresh with her at work.,,,I'm putting this mildly.

I was half a heartbeat from asking, "Might I wait for you after work?" so that I could accidentally run into this pile of horseshit and beat his face in. Nothing makes me see red quicker than someone I know being victimized. Male or female. Straight or gay. I don't care. No one has the right to bully or assault you and I'll be damn if I sit by and let that happen.

I still want to throttle him.

I'm not going to Journ. I really want to but I am not because there are consequences for rash decisions like that. She has to deal with it her way. I cannot deal with this for her. I'm an outsider looking in. My grasp of the situation is tenuous at best.

I don't like being angry. It puts me in an illogical place. Not using critical thinking to ascertain what must be done isn't how I function.

The GameBoy is a thing. I can buy another one. The car is falling apart. I'd have to get one no matter what. That store is awful. They did the Clone that way. I should've stop going when hearing that.

As much I cringe to think it, beating the shit out of random people is playground reasoning. There are better avenues to go about revenge and reciprocity. Legal ways.

I'm not saying anger isn't necessary Journ. It is. When you've been done a wrong, you should feel slighted and perhaps you should act on that impulse. I only caution that one thinks before they act.

Monday, January 18, 2016

A Journal By Some Guy 82

Kaizen: a Japanese business philosophy of continuous improvement of working practices, personal efficiency, etc.

Two of my cousins died recently Journ. The most recent was one from my mother's generation. The second one was a first cousin. She leaves behind a daughter.

In some ways, I worry over death, my mother's in particular. It seems are family is dying constantly.

Life is fragile. We take many daily things for granted. Somehow we fool ourselves into thinking things will always be the way they are. That is not life. Such a view is counterproductive from my perspective.

I've not really been on Facebook for about two weeks. One night I just deleted it out of my phone. It freed up so much space, digitally and mentally.

Don't misunderstand me Journ. Social media is good in that it can rapidly spread information. It's just, for me, it became a bit too much of a distraction.

Suddenly I had all of this extra attention that I didn't know I devoted to it. My phone didn't buzz every five seconds. I didn't have to check it.

I've been doing a thirty day art challenge at the behest of a very good friend of mine. I remember the conversation clearly(though inebriated)because of her dismay at her lack of drawing talent. She was sure she wasn't going to keep up with me. Then I said, "I don't expect you not to fail, I just want you to try."

Journ I saw the light bulb click over her head. She said, "Oh? Is that all? I thought you'd expect more of me." It was like finding a piece of a puzzle you didn't know was in front of you. She goes on to say that at day five, she'll bow out. It's day eighteen and she is still in.

And so am I. Consistency I have confused with proficiency. I thought the wrong one came before the other.

As an artist, my largest frustration is not seeing my improvement. You try and try and set aside time and put in effort but you just don't see it. I expected this in a day and a half, not a year or so....and definitely not a span of days.

Kaizen is taking little steps to get where you're going. Rarely does anyone skip to success. Even while working out Journ I apply this. For example, trying to figure out how to improve my workout, I recognized a weakness; I wasn't doing squats. For some reason, guys don't do squats. It's weird. Women do them all the time. So I go further to learn how to do them properly. You must break parallel. This means the tops of your thighs must come below your knees when you come down. Many claim to do squats without doing this. It's incorrect and you could hurt yourself. I've seen this personally a few days ago.

I do not claim to be an expert in anything. I do not think I ever will Journ. There is always room for improvement. The pursuit there of isn't in vain if you understand perfection is impossible. If you see something not fitting, figure out why. While doing these challenges, I've resorted to "cheating" by using tutorials for things I don't know how to draw. Unknowingly, I've trained myself to do some basic things that I've should have been doing for years.

It's like Skyrim. I'm discovering a skill tree and applying points to what I want. Redguard all the way? Yes Journ of course please and thank you. I'm trying to get my Drawing up so I can sketch figures, plants, backgrounds, and comics. 

Then I can have Dragon Bone Armor as well because we melee fighters all want that. Plus I'll be able to draw hentai on Tumblr with color.

All of this takes time though and the willingness to fail. You will fail. That's an eventuality. Accept that you won't be amazing. Ever. Will she be able to draw any? I don't know. Will I? I must believe yes. If only because I won't be satisfied until I do. Will I pass this exam? I don't know. Many don't. Will I stop studying because I might fail? No.

It's like the Zen quote says, "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water." We're so focused on what will happen when we achieve a goal that we forget what we must to get there. It seems like drudgery because it is. Following Sycra on Youtube and failing at doing things that seem easy to him is frustrating.Making flash cards for these vocab words is boring. Doing these challenges and seeing how bad I draw is disheartening. Not finding enough time to workout pisses me off. That's fine though. I'm suffering for what I want. Chopping wood and carrying water. As long as it's for what I truly want, I can make my peace with it.