but at least I admit to my shortcomings.  I had lunch with an employee that a lot of ppl have a hard time tolerating.  Said employee asked me what it takes to get through to some people.  I said politicking.  That’s all it takes.  I realize that’s shallow and the problem with corporate America.  However, I also realize that’s the only way you stay employed.  Be an individual, but don’t be a standoffish douche.  What a lot of people don’t seem to realize is that the secret to any great revolution is infiltration.  You want to make a difference?  It’s not likely in corporate America, so don’t even try there, but if you infiltrate your own world and make it play around you and not against you then it at least makes the days go by a little better.  Just remember, no one cares how hard you work cause as long as they’re rich, you’re employed.  Other than that it’s just luck, and why the fuck put much stock in that, cause you’ll die before it pays out anyhow.

In a future time, children will work together … to build a giant CYBORG!!!

That’s what’s going to happen.  Children are going to build giant cyborgs and then enslave the adults more so than they already have.  None of us have a chance, so we must murder the children before they can finish their diabolical plan.

so this weekend was spent doing projects around the house.  I had intended to go to my parents’ house and spend some time with them, but ended up staying so I could get the projects done I’d been putting off all winter.   The list consisted of planing doors, installing a folding closet door, fixing the garage door, and installing a screen door.  So essentially I spent the entire weekend working with doors.  Cutting wood, paintings, sanding, doing all that shit.  Needless to say, I don’t feel accomplished just done.  It’s just the same ol’ thing.  You do things mostly out of habit to appease the masses when really you could have spent the weekend doing what the fuck ever.  Anyway, chores done, liver a little more hardened and life a little shorter.

Everyone has these fucking opinions on every facet of everything.  We’re all entitled to those opinions, those thoughts.  However, do any of us really know what’s good for ourselves or each other?  We just make decisions.  Good or bad, decisions.  So based on the fact we don’t know anything, regardless of how intelligent we are or how foresightful be consider ourselves, we really have no fucking clue.  So, why do we constantly badger each other with good intentions.  Why not just throw caution to the wind and let people do what they see fit.  If they fuck up, they fuck up.   In the end we all die anyway, so you might as well have a hell of a time in the interim.

You know what’s burning my ass as of late.  This multitude of best intentions.  I’m left with people prodding me with good advice or thinking that they are going to lead me in some direction that is the answer.  You know what.  There is no fucking simple answer.  There’s no simple solution.  We as humans left with the freedom of choice and the penchant to fuck up are entitled to the results we yield.  No one is our problem, we’re our own problem.  We manifest issues based on social constructs and moral guilts.  How does that seem logical.  We let our emotions lead us in ways that are far more perverse than the reality we’ve manifest.  This askew is what alters that reality.  So, you want to remove the problem?  Remove the emotion.  I thought meds would remove it.  They just give everyone else a crutch for my actions.  I don’t blame my meds, I blame me for my actions.  So, I’m going to remove the meds, I’m going to remove the emotions through shear will.  I haven’t cried in a long time, and now, I’m not going to cry anymore.  I don’t want to feel that pain.  I’ll compartmentalize it, it’ll build up, then I’ll eventually explode.  Fortunately, as I deconstruct the life I’ve created that explosion should on remove the footers set from birth.  Which means, everything I built will no longer exist.  Don’t take that as a cry for help or putting me on some kind of suicide watch, cause I’m pretty fucking done with that too.  This isn’t a cry, cause I don’t cry, this is a stance.  I’m standing up against the preconceptions about who I am and what I’ve become.  I’m going to live in my own shadow.  I don’t have self esteem, I don’t have confidance.  All I have is an inflated mask that can easily misdirect those that need it.

So, this is part 1 because I’m not going until tomorrow.  But we leave @ dawn for a brewpub crawl of Western Michigan.  New Holland, Founder’s, and Bell’s all on Saturday.  Then we sleep and hit 3 Floyd’s for lunch Sunday.  3 Floyd’s is out of the way, but anything worth doing, is worth doing right.  13 hours of driving, 644 miles of road all to chase the dream of drinking from the fountains of some of my favorite regional brewpubs.  One day I’ll make the mecca of going to Yuengling and Dogfish Head in the same day.  That’s for another trip though.  This one is just to experience beer that way it’s meant to be.  Fresh.

That’s where my mind is today.  Just what the fuck all day.  I’m doing personal tech today on top of normal work tech, not personal I’m benefitting tech, but personal as in ppl more important than me drop their shit in my lap and give me that “you’ll fix it as a favor right?” look.  I’m just in a weird place, not meant for this world, but too damn lazy to do anything else.  It’s the slack complatency that I have, the nearly nihilistic apathy of believing or caring about nothing.  It sends me on a weird moralistic, social tailspin.  I don’t really know what I want to believe, nor do I care what happens to me.  I’ve had a couple good days here and there, but overall I’m just a self-loathing shell that exist to expel pungent thoughts and grotesque odours.   If I wasn’t a slacker and actually updated this site every day with my true thoughts there would probably be a case study is douchebaggery encased in the entrails of my words.  Like a sausage of antisocial behavior lurking.  Okay, I think I’m done with this post.  If I worked for some corporate blog they’d have to be satisfied with my 200 word turns.  They can also fuck off.

I’m realizing now it doesn’t take big Hollywood dreams or coffers of cash to become a filmmmaker.  It takes getting over the bullshit surrounding your fear and just going out and doing it.  Last night I joined the Indiana Filmmakers Network and I guess I am officially a filmmaker as I am in a guild if you will.  I thought there would be some sort of initiation but after doing the Babbling Banshee I guess that puts a movie under my belt for better or worse.  Now it’s on to the next project, not sure what, when, where, or who I’ll be working with, but I hope it’s worth a damn.  Everyone keeps asking me when I’m going to Make My Own Damn Movie, and I say possibly soon.  I have a couple screenplay ideas, both horror, however I get started then get distracted.  Of the two one is much more sadistic and disgusting.  The other is more of a melodrama that involves lots and lots of death.  Think Sergio Argento’s ‘Jenifer’ from Master’s of Horror without the disfigurement.  A story about a woman that preys on men, but is she really responsible??? Oooohhh… cue sinister music.  See, every thought I have is pretty much disgusting horrific death sequences, so I technically should be able to knock these out in no time.  We’ll see, until then I probably need to get more exposure and experience working on a set.

I thought about it, and frankly my doctor can fuck off.  I’d rather be anxious and sucking down gallons of coffee than depressed and sucking down liters of whiskey.  If I’m going to have a goddamned addiction then it’s going to be the one thing that’s never done me wrong.  CAFFEINE! The solution to all my problems and it has been for 28 years.  I’m assuming my mom fed me coffee instead of milk as I am lactose intolerant.  However, I have the tolerance for coffee of a god.  My life was better when I had caffeine, especially coffee so I’ve decided I’m just going to keep slurping down it’s deliciousness until I die of heart failure.  Fuck it, if I’m going to go at least I won’t have pissed myself with coffee.  Or maybe I will, who knows.

We all reap what we sow in our fields of bullshit.  We all want to have this victory garden.  However,there are some that spend their time meticulously manicuring each and every plant, while others are satisfied with the rain and sun taking care of it.  Then there are ones who let it grow, then burn it before harvest.  That’s how I’m seeing life right now.  A Huge garden with each facet of life a single bud on a single plant.  How to farm, how to farm?