I Spy A Messy Stench

I am surprised it really took me this long to notice, but there was someone in one of my classes that came the closest to looking like Messy Stench that I have ever seen in person. First off, you are probably like who the hell is that — that is if you don't know me overly well. Even my parents know who she is, because of me. I think now I am more known for my Lindsey Lohan obsession, which is a shame, because Messy Stench is truly a more noble obsession. Then again, me and Lohan have the same birthday, so that is hot, right?

This realization I had during class reminded me of how much I used to be obsessed with Messy. I must say, in recent years I have been lacking in my obsession. Maybe it is since she seemingly has slipped off the radar a little bit. I have been waiting years for her to make a new calender by the way. That would make me so overly happy. Although, I should be getting the NerdCore calender this X-mass.

Still, Messy is probably the person I most adore. I would do anything to meet her in person and I still believe that somehow some day I will get to meet her. I would say it is one of my life goals. It also has crossed my mind that I don't know how I would react. How do you react to meeting someone you were obsessed with for about seven years? I think I would be speechless and maybe that would be for the best.

Awake For More Answers

Gleams of light
shine through
the windowpane,
as night
disappears again
colors explode
from the bland scenery.

Lit a cigarette,
sip some
milk foam and coffee,
the pretentiousness
seeps through.

Been watching —
waiting till sunrise.

Trying not
to miss a beat,
headlines flash,
infomercials inspire,
atomic energy harvesting.

Maybe being asleep
isn’t too fruitless.

I close my eyes.

Wikipedia Test

For a long time I wondered how long it would take Wikipedia to edit an addition I would make to an entry that was either utterly wrong or offensive. I am not sure it was the most ethical experiment, but it was an interesting one.

In less than 12 hours, I am not sure exactly how long it took, all of the additions I made to Wikipedia was edited out. Also, I received a warning about being banned permanently from the pages I was editing. The Christopher Columbus page I got temporarily banned from, till early December, which meant I could not edit it for a couple weeks. The other pages I am not sure of, because I would only make one crazy edit, so the punishment was not as severe. My answer for the most part, to the question of how is Wikipedia policed, seems to be rather diligently. This is not saying that pages are not biased and do not have errors, but at the least it seems the administrators of Wikipedia eliminate, rather fast, any "vandalism" to their pages. Who knew someone actually was an administrator on Wikipedia? That must be a pretty boring job and I wonder if they even get paid?

Professors always point out the fact that anyone can go in and edit it, which is valid and troublesome at times, but I am not sure how long an inaccurate edit will stay. Something that is just blatantly wrong or biased seems like it will be taken off in a short amount of time. That sort of levels the reliability of the information. The best thing I have found to use Wikipedia for is finding more information on a topic. At the end of an entry there are related links and links to cited information. This usually leads me to where I want to go, so while I don't use what is on it, often you can get pointed in the right direction.

I would like to further test the reliability of Wikipedia, but my account will eventually just get banned from making any edits if I continue. I would have to make more accounts and continue to make more edits to truly find out how Wikipedia works, but that is something I do not have the interest to do.

In the end, look at a real encyclopedia, because that is done by experts and not a kid in high school.

What Is My Scene?

I just somehow ended up seeing Your Scene Sucks and it made me ponder the question, what scene am I really. I hope you are ready for a totally vain brainstorm from me and one I am not sure I expected to really have. It just posses some sort of question about how I really am and I guess that interests me.

First, you should probably look at the website after this, so that you have some idea of what I just talked about. I guess, for most of high school I would have been "Hot Topic Core," but there are still some flaws in their description when applied to me. I didn't wear those funny, text, "ironic" t-shirts. The pants are a given, for I just stopped wearing "parachute" pants about six months ago. Although, I believe the correct term for the pants would be "bondage" pants. Shit, the police even called them that before, or at least questioned me on why I said they were called that, but I digress. Yes, I had dyed spiked hair for a long time, but it was not "kool-aid-dyed" hair, because I am sorry, but that is really lame. I understand it is cheaper, but it looks like shit. No, I was serious and went to a salon to get it dyed. Now that I have tried nearly every color I gave up. It loses the thrill after you try everything, besides, I need to get a job pretty soon. Oh, and I would never have a "fake tattoo sleve," because once again that is lame. Sometimes decent, but usually lame. And another thing, I would never be wearing a him necklace or "Thunder Cats patch" ... that was not my thing.

This makes me conclude, or at least convince myself, that while I was on the border of "Hot Topc Core," I never really was truly it. I seem to be lacking at least 70 percent of the dress requirements. The music is what I feel most applied to me in the description. Then again, I didn't listen to Flogging Molly, Insane Clown Posse, or Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. That means I didn't listen to 60 percent of the music they listed, if my math is correct.

Now to the present, if I had to pick a scene that at least somewhat visually fits me, I would have to go with "Brootal Kid," but there is a lot wrong when applied to me. In fact, all of the visual elements I do not wear, but they are similar to what I wear. Apparently, Brootal Kids get bored of being emo and then switch to this. You know, there is actually some validity to this statement, but I don't think I was ever "emo."

Let me try to compile things from all of the scenes on the page to best create what I look like. Screw the descriptions for the categories, because I don't think I am poser and they only seem to really suit that. Other people might disagree, but I doubt must people would think I am poser. Fuck, I am weird, but not a poser.

My hair is like the Brootal Kid, but without all the shit to make it stick up and look nice. I am too lazy for that. Although, sometimes my head would fit into the Faux Hip Hop, because at times I do wear a fitted hat "with sticker intact." For the shirt I am going to go with Brootal Kid, because even though I don't have any "illegible band hoodies" I do have illegible band tees. I have a lot of Norma Jean shirts, but that isn't really brootal. My glasses would fall into "Prehistoric Emo" and so would my arms, because they are "tattoo-free." My pants mostly fit into Faux Hip Hop and actually do seem to look surprisingly like that with different color variations. I don't know why none of the categories have a pyramid belt in them, because I wear that every day for the most part. Also, my shoes seem to be lacking any category representation. Then again my shoes can very from skater brand to ADIDAS to huge boots, so not too sure there.

To sum it up I am a "Prehistoric Brootal Fuax Hip Hop Kid and ya know, that kind of does sum it up well.

Why the Media Sighs

We want to promote
sexism,
racism,
environmentalism,
terrorism,
capitalism,
individualism,
nudism,
skepticism,
radicalism,
voyeurism,
traditionalism,
moralism,
totalitarianism,
escapism,
zombiism,
but most importantly
we want to promote nothingism.

We want something to catch our eye,
but not our mind.

We want to drool ourselves
off this planet.

We only want to listen.
We never want to question.

We are mostly whores,
some are pimps
and others are Johns,
but in the end we all get fucked.

No More Smoke (Part 2)

Yeah, I didn't quit smoking, but I think that was an obvious outcome. I am not even sure if I believed I could quit. While I did want to quit a part of me does not want to. My guess is that's the part that's addicted to smoking. The price surely was an original motive, but that has seemed to fade as a reason. People get used to how things are after while. Paying $7.25 for my cigarettes does suck, but I guess it is just something I have to do for now.

For the longest time I have been threatening to buy my cigarettes off the internet, but I never seem to get around to it. I think the initial investment is what stops me. Obviously you have to buy at least one carton (10 packs), but in the end I would save money. It ends up costing nearly half the amount I pay in stores. The second reason I seem to avoid it is that the government seems to be cracking down on internet cigarette sales, since the state tax is avoided in the purchase. I've even heard of people having to pay all the state tax they avoided once the records of such companies were searched. To me, having to pay a large amount of taxes in the end would be a real bitch. I might as well just pay it right away. There is no escaping the government sometimes.

There is always the final and legal alternative to taxes on cigarettes, but that involves going to an Indian reservation. Let me first say, I have no idea where there even are reservations. I know they are out there, but I don't know where they are. I am sure after some search engine inquiry I could find a place, but then the second element comes in. Paying to drive there, with the spike in gas prices, would be a real bitch too. I mean, I would have to by several cartons in order for the trip to be worth it. That, right there, says there is no way I am going to quit smoking anytime soon. In some ways, that bothers me too. That is the real admittance of defeat right there; knowing you are bound to your addiction and that there is no way you are going to stop smoking.

One, small, but final reason is there is some sort of persona involved with smoking. Whether it is the rebel, sexy, artsy, or plain American pop-culture is up for debate. There is something about it though that draws me. I am not sure exactly what, but it is something. Increasingly smoking is beginning to be seen as a social annoyance, though, as distortions of the truth about second hand smoke is revealed. I don't believe everything I read about second hand smoke, but I do believe some of it.

Bottom line is: don't start smoking cause it will hurt your wallet the most.


photo used from Jasmin Cormier's collection on flickr.com

Back In NP

All sort of odd and indifferent feelings have been rushing through me in my return to New Paltz. This is the last year of classes for me, although, I do have another semester after this school year that will pin me into a full-time internship. That isn't something I don't really mind being pinned to.

I guess I don't know what is really different here now. Maybe it is me? Maybe it is my house? Maybe it is my classes? Whatever it is, something just feels different. I suppose it should. I mean, I haven't stopped to write an entry in a while. Maybe things are just starting to slow down now? The commotion of summer is over and I guess I realize that. Right now there is a party in my house, but yet I would rather do school work (and this I suppose). Don't get me wrong, I like to party and get sloppy all over town, but not right now. I'm not sure what it is about me now. I think last year I would have been all over this. Now, I am just very distant.

I think the thought of romantic relationships still troubles me to some degree. I wouldn't mind being close to someone, well, I think I am now, but in different ways I guess. There seems to be paths I will not allow myself to explore for whatever reasons. There are some emotional walls in me that I think could rival the Berlin Wall.

Maybe it is just this book, Amusing Ourselves To Death: Public Discourse In The Age Of Show Business, I started reading for a course? It really is making me think about our society and how our culture is evolving. The presidential election is weighing heavily on my mind too, because I feel it is going to be the biggest reflection on where our society is. I swear, if McCain gets elected then we are a nation of fucking morons (at least a majority), but that is assuming the election does that get stolen as in the previous two. We all know Bush really shouldn't be president right now, besides the obvious reasons, he never really won.

The laughter rings loudest in silence.

Grab What You Call For

The blank stare,
looking off
into someplace
somewhere.

There is nothing
to be seen,
only distortions
as fog consumes
our lungs.

On the boulder
of millions of pieces
the water rushes
to barely kiss
my feet.


Consuming the calm
begins to drain
all the colors
into a numbing cauldron.

Let it slip.
Let it feel real.
Let it be just right.
Let it only hold one truth.

No More Smoke (Part 1)

Congratulations NY government officials, you have successfully prompted me to quit smoking. That is what you wanted when you raised the price of cigarettes to $1.50 more per pack? Actually, I doubt they really give a shit about people smoking. This is just another way for them to make money on a "vice product". Fuck them, but they did get me to quit. At least for the moment I am attempting it.

The price was truly the first thing that really triggered it in me, but then I started to think about all of the other reasons that I want to quit. I don't know if my health is really the biggest reason, though, since I know it is bad for me. The whole ciggarette lifestyle was just starting to drain on me. Always having to reach for a cig at certain "triggers" I would have. Yes, sometimes it was enjoyable, but I guess other times it just really isn't.

All in all I would say I have a love hate relationship with cigarettes. Not being able to run/jog for more than a minute is a little disappointing. Isn't this early '20s of my age supposed to be when I am in my best shape? I don't feel like I am. I used to do a lot more things that kept me active. Then again, that was before I ever had a car. It seems that owning a car is the first step to becoming less active. The rest of the active things you do just seem to follow.

There just some times when I REALLY want a cigarette. After a meal I think has to be the most. It is hard to eat when I know I am going to fiend a cigarette when I am done. Alcohol and highly caffeinated beverages (coffee and energy drinks) I would say are tied for second place in the triggers. Then, I guess it would be driving. Almost every time I get into my car I have to have a smoke.

Now avoiding a lot of this stuff is rather hard. I have to eat, so that is not going to change. Coffee I can cut back on, but I work at a damn cafe at the moment. It is kind of difficult to not drink coffee when you work at a cafe. I really love Red Bull too, but I could stop that. The only problem is that I really need some sort of highly caffeinated beverage during the day to really function properly. Can't run a car on just fumes forever. Drinking alcohol is more of a social thing too. It would be too weird to just sit there and not drink anything when my friends are pounding them away.

Above all, I think the constant mental battle is the worst. My mind is saying, "Just smoke a fucking a cigarette already!" My heart is saying, "Don't even think about wasting more of your money on that shit that is going to kill you anyway...you are better than that!" The mind versus the heart is an interesting battle and one that is not easy to predict the winner. My mother and grandfather both gave up smoking for me when I was born, so for me smoking just sort of feels like me slapping them in the face. On top of that, my mom's mother died from smoking. I seem to be surround by influences to not smoke. Tom's mom had to stop smoking recently or she would have died. My aunt also has physical problems from smoking and she can't smoke anymore. Yet, there is still a part of me that wants a cig.

I guess I just feel, "Yeah, I know it could hurt me or even kill me, but aren't you going to die eventually anyway?" I guess I shouldn't have that be the reason I do though.

I am nearing the end of day 3 of being smoke free and it is one of the hardest things I have had to do. Smoking becomes a part of you and you become a part of smoking. There is a piece of me missing, but maybe that is a piece I don't want to keep? Well, I think it would be a piece I would be better off without.

Fuck, I do want a cigarette though.

Relationship Status and All the Bullshit Behind It

To this day I still don't see what is the big thrill about having a relationship status. Everyone craves this thing, well, enough people seem to. Girls don't want to just be around you and have a good time. They want a commitment. The days of free love and enjoying life see to have come and gone. Didn't we learn anything from the hippie generation? Although a committed relationship does have positive aspects, I am just not sold on this need to see it is a necessity.

Now, most girls seem to want a "title" before they let you in their pants. At least, that is what they hope to happen. They want you to commit to them before you have sex. Then they can tell their friends, "Yeah, I was fucking my boyfriend," when they need an explanation for the moans coming out your room's window at 1 am. For some reason girls seem to feel less slutty after they get the title. Somehow they think dating a lot of people doesn't look slutty though? {I am not one to judge how someone lives, because it is up to them.} I have only dated a few people. Since I was 14 I have dated 4 people. I have slept with more than 4 people, but I don't see anything wrong with that. This whole concept of dating seems completely wrong. When I date someone, they are truly the only person I could see myself being with in the future. Sure if something goes sour it will end, but I don't date someone without the full intent for being with them as long as possible. It is a commitment that I don't take lightly, but most people seem to. It is like, "Well, I want to fuck you, so I guess I should date you."

I guess causal sex died off with the rampid spread of STDs and HIV, but people still get them in relationships. The jury is out on that one being a factor. It is just that maybe casual sex is a paradox to some people in some ways. Pleasure is pleasure to me. Shouldn't people just enjoy themselves and stop taking things so seriously? Love, really, has nothing to do with sex.

*EDIT: For all the slack I have gotten from people about this post, it is funny to see that I didn't get any comments. You can tell me if you think I am a moron in the comment portion of this. All responses welcomed, well, most at least. I don't know about the one where the girl "wanted to stab me in the face with scissors" after she read it.

22 Years Celebrated

Turning 22 was a somewhat odd feeling. Turning 16,18, and 21 all have cool things attached, so you are always looking forward to the next step. Reaching 22 just sort of feels like the start to the rest of your life. A looming sense of responsibility is in the air as I sipped a beer with Jew (aka Dylan) in the bar.

I am not really a fan of my birthday and most people close to me know that. I just don't like celebrating me. It is just a weird feeling to me. Everyone all going, "Like, OMG, your day." I prefer the day after more. There are all these expectations about a birthday. You have to have this really amazing day and everyone tries for you to have this amazing day. I guess after my 21st birthday being my, potentially, worst birthday ever...I was sort of over the whole birthday phenomenon. Every time I went drinking since my 21st birthday has been better than that day. Now, I enjoy the after birthday more. When people stop making a fuss and life goes back to normal I am happy. Don't get me wrong, presents are always a good thing!

Digressing back to the man point, I feel this overwhelming sense of adulthood now. Things aren't quite the way they used to be, but I guess in a lot of ways I have grown-up. At least I have got smarter about life's turmoils and challenges. That sort of stuff I think you just have to learn as you go along. Shit, I have done a lot of things. Live life to the fullest and if you fuck something up, oh well, you probably won't do it again.

Losing the Pen

This year I have wrote very little poems thus far. Considering it just became the sixth month and I don't even have six poems yet, I am rather disappointed. I'm not really sure what the reasoning is for this, but I really need to buckle down sometime soon and get writing. Although, I usually just write when the urge comes to me and that has been the problem.

My creative juices seem to have been somewhat drained recently. I'm not totally sure why, but I do have a few ideas. Maybe I just don't have the same passion for poetry? Well, I feel like I do, but maybe I just don't want to admit my decline is intentional. Well, to some degree at least. All I want to do is write something, yet I never sit in front of that screen and start pounding the keys into my broken prose.

Lately I have seem to fit other hobbies into my lifestyle. Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare has begun to play an enormous role in my life. Well, it has been for a while now. I never really saw myself as the "gamer" type, but apparently I have become one to some degree. What drives me to want to play it so addictively I am not too sure of. I guess it is the feeling that I am doing something that has tangible results, but in reality it doesn't. That is the magic of video games. To create a reality where you can be whomever and whatever you want. Life might suck, but at least you have an 'escape'. I guess that is still a better escape than going down various other routes that lead to needles and whore houses. We all need to escape sometimes.

With me, I used to escape through my writing. I realize that now. It is one of those things people say it is (you know, all those English teachers toting books over fast-paced movies and internet porn), but you don't really know what it is till you stop doing it. The question is now, so how do I continue my current paths of escapism?

The Downward Spiral

A downward spiral seems to explain how events in my life have been going. For some reason things are starting to crumble around me. The walls seem to be closing in and opportunities seem to be closing up. I know that partly I am to blame.

Procrastination is my enemy. I had problems in the past, but lately this seems to be a serious issue. I lack any sort of real motivation to complete college assignments. The course A Little Rebellion I will now have to withdraw from. Basically, it's a literature of journalism or creative non-fiction course. Doing creative things is rather draining for me now. I'm not sure if it is the damn blue pills I take for anxiety. Mental illness, if you want to call it that, is a very tricky thing. I've had my depression phase for a year or so. I've almost killed myself. I'm still here and sometimes I wonder how. We all go through shit I suppose. That is what has made me stronger in the end. All I want to do is make it through this semester at SUNY New Paltz now.

If realizing you were completely fucking up a class you should have got an easy B+ in isn't bad enough, my girlfriend and I have separated. Love is to strange to understand, so I don't try to most of the time. We fought, we fucked, we laughed and we cried. I think when I told her, "you can go fuck yourself," that was probably a good sign of what we had become. She would harp (according to me) how I am an only child and I just have a 'different' approach to things. This approach, to her, was not a positive one either. I hate when someone puts down how I was raised for a reason towards how I am. Basically I am laid back. I don't harp on a lot of things. In a sense, I'm like a stoner that never smokes. Not that I couldn't, because I could have tonight. With all that I know, I feel like I 'loved' this girl. In fact I still feel like I do. Sometimes I guess things just aren't so black and white though. There is an area of gray that we never truly understand.

My friend just called me to come out and drink, but at the moment I feel like a piece of ectoplasmic waste. I know I shouldn't be, but damn, I just got out of a relationship I was in for eight months. Sure, it is not that long, but I would say it is substantial. Drinking I think might be part of my recent procrastination problems. Thursday night, I go out and slosh around the dance floor to 'gay' 80's music. Guys are making out with guys. Girls are pressed up against the wall with some sleazy man groping her ass. Life is good. Accept the day after I drink I tend to get nothing done. There goes Friday. Then Saturday I wake up late, eat dinner and go out and drink. There goes Sunday. Something is telling me a need to get a hold of this cycle. Sure, we all have our vices. Mine seems to be alcohol and cigarettes. Having a vice seems to keep people sane. We all need to have something harmful so that we don't do ourselves anymore harm than those vices. The negative thing is when those vices are life consuming and harm all aspects. That's when we call it an addiction.

Time to make a call and then drink some cheap ass beer. Life goes on I guess, so fill up my cup. I'm ready for whatever is going to come next. Well, I hope I am.

Introreduction

This blog, or series of reflections, I started to capture my life. Hopefully this isn't the normal hum-drum series of entries you can find on countless other meaningless blogs. In a way, consider this a memoir that is slowing flooding out in front of you. I will be rather blunt and honest here, so that is way I attached the "adult warning" to this page. I don't know what I will be talking about, but I don't want to be at fault for saying it.

The title "Your Famous When Your Dead" I choose, because every famous writer, for the most part, becomes famous when their dead. That is when you study them in academia and they are considered to have some sort of substance. All writers face the challenge of making money on their work while they are alive, although, this will make me no money. In time I hope to compile these entries, after tortuously editing, into a book. Consider this the raw meat to the uncooked patty.

If you are ready to begin this journey with me, then continue reading. Otherwise go read some article in Teen Vouge, because I don't give a fuck either way. Anyone who continues reading my entires is most likely who should. In the end, I am writing it for me.