Chapter X

Ideally I should have written this down earlier. Ideally I should have written this a year ago. Ideally I should have written this last night. We unfortunately do not live in a world of ideals. We live in a world of ideas instead. Everything lasting was built with ideas, ideals often fall short of their own goals. Chapter X (the roman numeral not the letter), was built on the search for an idea to support my ideals. It seems I have plenty of ideals I just need an idea to bring them all into focus. Thus the subtitle of this journal. I forgo the stream of conscious speeches, poems, and off the wall quotes. Instead I will try to articulate some sense out of this drunken, drug induced haze I have found myself in. Maybe my fault lies in writing the introduction before I write the journal. As always only time will tell.From Winston, to Atlanta, to New York, and Back

Words to Die to……
To quickly recap; It is January second, nineteen-ninety-nine. Supposedly a pivotal year, because it’s the end of a century? We shall see. I sit alone in my downtown apartment, cold hungry, annoyed with the general sleepiness of my town. With another year under my belt, I contemplate time, age, and just what will become of me.
You see I have been a very bad boy in 1998. Hell! I’ve been bad my whole life. Yet aside from a few random inaccuracies I can’t remember ever feeling much remorse. I have no clear recollection of how it started. Do in part to mental blocks that I’ve put up, and in part to the alcohol I’ve consumed. I assume it began as most things in my current life, with the moment I chose never to be like those who were over me. To never walk the path they walked. And it worsened as I realized I had no choice in the matter. Though I have managed to walk the path backwards, sideways, and upside down. Every chance I get to stray away from it, I always seem to be pulled back someway or another. I can not seem to completely separate myself from the past. I have however managed to accept this and merely build upon it’s foundation. It is here where I run into the most trouble. For you see my own vices tend to trap me up at times. My drinking for one, my need to escape responsibility, my lust for sex, and my off-centered approach at immortality. All have lead to the problems with attaining my ultimate goal, which is to not become like those I so hated growing up.
My grandmother, as she is, is fond of reminding me that I am not yet grown. I wonder often if she is right. Maybe it is my impetuousness and fast living that has made me forget that time is indeed not on my side.
Throughout this past year if not the last several years I have made it a point to conceive of philosophies, spout prophecies, and fall short in delivering the goods. My lust has always deterred me from my destiny. My insatiable lust for wine women, and a good time. I have drunk myself into a stupor, fucked myself into oblivion, and partied like theres no tomorrow. The gods themselves have reached down from the heavens to throw me in the right direction. Time and time again I have forsaken them for fun. When will I learn that the road to legend is not paved with good times.

The eye of the tater
So here I sit, wondering when the hand of God will descend and confirm my every belief. Confirm that while we sit here we should be enjoying this time. That no man is a master and no woman either. That the universe is bigger than all things, and yet while we are apart of the universe, we are not the whole. I await this day with glee.
I review all that I know over and over, listen to my voice on tape. Replaying all I’ve done in my head. Memory distorting reality. Perspective reshaping perception. Loosing time and loosing hope. Thinking of escape routes when I should be thinking of defensive maneuvers. As always trying to make some since of it all.
I really just need to relax. I know how it all ends. I know that to try to make sense out of non since, is just a waste of time. In the end it will only cause me heartache and misery. Yet time and time again I attempt the impossible. I just need to relax. Take some of my advice, touch myself and think about the future in a more positive light, take each day as it comes. I know that trying only sets me up to fail. What was it? “The essence of success is not found in excess”. The whole being in non-being thing. Yeah I know it, but there is still something I’m not getting. I feel a spiritual void that can not be found in words or piercings. I need to take some time away from the world.
I was one so close to enlightenment I could smell the emptiness of nothingness. But getting trapped in this state has distanced me from my goals. My vision twisted from drugs and the cold reality of life. I need to sober up a bit, and hang out tin the woods by myself. Or maybe just lock my doors and hide in my room. Stock my fridge full of beer and cheese, sit down at my desk and write down all these thoughts jumbling in my head. I have stories I want to tell and music I want to write, movies I need to make, and a legacy I must leave. Hanging out on street corners and gay bars will not help me reach my destination.
I just feel that if I stop going out and loose contact with my friends I’ll be forgotten and washed away. I’ve already lost much of my popularity and my standing with the women is slipping each day. I talk and people moan about how I’m “Preaching” again. But damn it someone has to say something! Someone has to do something! I just can’t sit here and watch as nothing happens The people must be woken up.
Not to say that every one is ignorant to what’s going on in the world around them. It’s just that not enough people are willing to do something about it. Personal freedom is being attacked on all sides. When if not now will we stand up and do something. You know, you don’t really see theses things until you’re around people who don’t see these things. Which leaves you feeling scared and alone and in need of one person you can trust. Yet your own fear and paranoia drives everyone away from you.

BRUISED:

That just leaves me trying to start a conflict alone. Wondering what happened to that idealistic young teenager, who once believed so strongly in everything he said, and did! What happened to the boy who didn’t think he was the future, but he knew it!
You see now at twenty-one I just keep trying to relive. “The dream is gone but the baby is real. Could have been a”….

So where am I now? Sitting on my couch in a wife beater and boxer shorts, watching porno, listening to ICP and reading comic books, 21 years and this is as far as I’ve gotten? I’m loosing hope. I realize that all reality is perception, that all truth is relative, that laughter is the only salvation from misery and that life is eternal. I’ve peered into the universe only to be scared motionless. MY mind races with color and knowledge. So much so I can’t even function properly. How does all this help me? I don’t know anymore now than I did at fifteen. I still have no real solid direction. And even worse, I’ve lost all compassion and sympathy. My entire range of emotions are merely false mockery’s of actions I’ve seen on television.
It seems as if everything I thought made me, was nothing more than my subconscious aping things I saw growing up. Making me a 100% product of my environment. I have all these motherfucker around me saying how free I am, how original, how they envy me! Why? Why? I am not even real.

It’s July now; nineteen-hundred and ninety-nine. I am alone. I do not try to lay blame on anyone or anything It is my own doing. Life has not been good for sometime. I didn’t cope well with age or time itself for that matter. My pursuit of a good time has led me down a dark path. My lust for life has alienated me. I am an asshole. My fear and subsequent paranoia has left me bitter and alone. My perception of people and their actions has left me a marked man. More than that I just can’t shut up.

I see everyone’s faults. He way a man stands, the way a woman talks, the way we all interact. I know they just want to look cool. They really just wanna get fucked. They all want to be normal. They all want someone to love them, pay attention to them. I think it’s funny. I tell them. I point it out and I mock it. I exaggerate it and they resent me. Some see the humor. Some see that I want the same thing, most just hate me. Most don’t have the patience to wade through the bullshit to see people (and me) for the souls that they are. Most people are pussies. Weak jellyfish, who will not survive what I can see ahead. Dark days, the coming storm. Funky weather and high crime rates are only the start. We draw closer to the final conflict. It is not some mystical/mythical Armageddon I speak of. But, mans own negative energies reaching a breaking point. His insecurities, his fears, his greed consuming him to the point beyond redemption. It comes my friends. And I’ll be happy.
Until that day comes I’ll be on the fence. Hiding in place my true face, to please you all to no end. My greed overwhelms both you and me. And there is nothing I can say or do that will ever change the outcome. I could say it all and you still not know were I’m coming from.

After two years of contemplation what have I found out? That I am a villain? By what definition? That I am greedy, lustful, conniving, dishonest, hypocritical and vain!?! Perhaps, or perhaps because I make mistakes. I am sometimes thoughtless and selfish and I make poor judgments or prejudgment. Or does his all simply make me human. Something I have striven so hard not to be for as long as I can recall. Something I’ve lied about being, pretended not to be, created elaborate fantasies not to become. I am my father’s child. Sadly there is no escaping it. So does this make me a villain? What does? Is there truly no right or wrong?
I know now that too much time has been wasted (along with my mind) on how I came to be. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe I’m a product of my environment, perhaps I’m warped by television? Who knows? Better yet-who cares?

I am what I am, not what I will/can become!

It is now what I do with the knowledge I have and the capabilities I have left. My only fear is that now I am but damaged goods. My mind (a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces) is a mess. My body a wreck and my life span shortened. My heart still M.I.A., where to go from here.

This has all been years of practice!

The further you move away the closer you seem to find yourself!

Backwards and Forwards

Before we begin, let me just say that everything you know is a lie. By that respect everything you know is true. In as far as every myth, legend, fable, and scientific “fact” is both false and true simultaneously. They hold within them the seed of every story. It is the names and conceptions of time which are wrong. So far as there is a wrong. Nouns are not used in the universe.

Gathered from ancient oral tales, and formed into religions, the sciences, you begin to see a pattern within the myriad complexity of Chaos. We gather that at some point (neither the begining nor the end), something happened. A big bang, a great fall, something was cast out from the beyond or born into our reality. Two forces collided, then shattered, creating our know universe from their coming together/apart. From hence forth began a/the struggle. And for lack of better terminology we will call these two forces Order and Chaos. Not the be all end all, not the first nor the last-simply “is” and “is not”. Now, since the initial schism “is not” has struggled to be what “is”, while “is” has fought to not become what “is not” Some say good and evil, some say black and white. The differences are actually irrelevant. All needs be known is that the two define each other and oppose each other simultaneously.
And so the struggle defines us. Creating us and trapping us between their flux. Thereby lending credit to the theory that our universe is merely a hologram created by two overlapping forces.

As we enter the period when the two once again collide we find ourselves being visited upon by the many offspring of the two (and the physical manifestations of the forces themselves) more and more often. We are confronted with the fact that these are indeed end times my friends!!!

Chalk Faces

Don’t be afraid of fear
Vision Quest

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