Every once in awhile you meet some of these creatures that live and breathe outdoor “excitement” and can’t stand being cooped up. They’re the ones that mock the nerds whenever they walk by, or ridicule anyone whose existence doesn’t revolve entirely around interacting with humanity. You know, fucktards.

Oh sure, getting outside is great- healthy, fun even. I plan to do just that most of the summer and enjoy the SHIT out of it. And socializing can be nifty too-  but it’s that smugness of “hadurr hadurr I hiked seven miles up hill both ways before coming to a ten hour shift at work, what did YOU do today?” or “man, I totally got hawaaasted with a bunch of strangers and to music so staggeringly appalling it makes the Holocaust look like a good time- you know, YOU need to do it more often!” that makes you wanna punch cute animals and punt infants.

Example A: Two kids walk by talking (very) enthusiastically about their gaming escapades of the day (Left 4 Dead, and for what sounded like many hours) and Activetard to my right goes “wow, sounds like THEY had an exciting day.” Hey, you know what else is exciting? Standing this close to such a failure of a person. It’s almost awe-inspiring to see someone so blatantly ignorant that they’re revolted by people with different lifestyles. No, they don’t climb mountains in their spare time. You do. I know, your insecurities as a bwig-twuff-male make it hard to understand concepts such as “diversity” and “cooperative team-play”, especially since both can take place *gasp* in-doors and outside the reach of the sun, but you can always keep your mouth shut. How do I know that? Why, because it’s what you do when your aversions are within ear-shot! And how.

Example B: A foreign exchange “student” asks me what I do for fun, fails to grasp the answer of “whatever I want” (she’s from the former Soviet Bloc; concepts of freedom must be difficult), and proceeds to tell me that I should go to clubs, because “that’s what they do in cities, like L.A.” Well, pardon-fucking-me and my poor understanding of American culture, what with having lived here my entire life. You’re right: I should really take part in popular culture, just because it’s popular, more often. Just think! I could wear the EXACT same thing as 90% of all guys on campus, I could fuck things that look like easy-bake skeletons with breasts, I could waste all my money on alcohol, I could go around claiming that people who create basic rhythms with electronic software are “talented” AND blast said “talent” at such ludicrous volumes that it makes normal eardrums quake in their boots, I could type lik th1s- holy fucking balls, that sounds like a blast! See, here I was thinking I could do whatever I found personally fulfilling including, but not limited to, NOT taking E and getting raped over a toilet, speaking and typing like I’m not a four year old with mental defects, not interacting with ignorant elitist halfwits, bullshitting with random friends, watching a movie, appreciating the quiet beauty of solitude, and other fantastic stuff that serves the purpose of pleasing “me” and not fulfilling whatever lifestyle I wish everyone else to perceive that I have.

I’m certainly not defending the sort of people that play WoW all day (because suffering through non-enjoyment for actual enjoyment =/= fun; also: addiction), and I firmly believe that being at least semi-social and active is, at the very least, a plus for mental and physical health. But choosing to remain ignorant to technological or non-social pleasures in life as if it were the CORRECT option, is completely asinine. But hey, at least they know how to listen to really shitty music all the time and brag all day about why they have zero energy. Maybe that’s more useful than self-enjoyment that doesn’t revolve around an “image”.

What the fuck would I know? I run a website.

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Broken. It’s that feelin’ of wellin’ up like so many irritants inside are tryin’ to rip your mouth open and scream the apocalypse. What would they scream? Hatred, death, somebody help me, a hug? Somethin’. It’s a convolution of shit that’s mostly incomprehensible and it’s easier to just sleep it off than to actually sittaown and deal with it.

I didn’t even know the dude. Really. Sure he hung out at my place, but he mostly said a lot of stupid shit for attention and all we ever did was make fun of him. He was too gooda soul to do anything but shrug it off in real life, though. Only ever saw him snap once at someone and it was rightfully so. Hard to be backwards in a backwards community, that was always a point of respect. But who am I to patronize ‘im? I didn’t even know him. Still affects me.

Somma us like to pretend we’re invincible. It’s really only ever to a point. I can watch ‘em die off in the distance all day long, but as soon as it comes within grasp, there’s a certain pressure attached to it. Can’t shrug it, can’t just say “fuck it, didn’t know him”. ‘Cause the truth is that we did know each other- hell he was aware of one of the biggest plights of my life, more so than any friend I’ve made in the last three years ever will be. But I still didn’t know him.

Existence gettin’ stamped out is no big deal in itself. Your neurons stop shootin’, the brain quits sending signals to the body, physical functions cease, you grow cold, you bloat, you decay. There is nothin’ fantastical about this. It’s the stamping out, that’s the real thing. An active memory turning into a stale re-run. That’s what gets me every time.

I still dream in Troy. It’s the most wonderful thing. It was such a vibrant, familiar part of formative life that there really is no going stale. All this death, it’s somethin’ similiar. These existences that crossed into mine- however briefly in some cases- were tied to my view of reality, and a bit of the world that was otherwise going to continue on for a long while is crumbled up, and tossed out.

This reality of mine, of yours, it’s all there is. And it exists only as long as those who partake in it stand within it as well. But one by one, it will disintegrate out of memory. And after this place is over-run by the next one, nobody will recollect it.

It’s really a bizarre concept to blame these consequences, this welling of emotion, on somebody I didn’t really “know”, but whom I knew. And it prolly wasn’t even proper to do so today. Somethin’ of a lie really.

‘Cause today was a mishmash of wrongs, not just the one. You get to a certain point- all these things you don’t wanna be doing, but that you feel you “have to” do for people you tell yourself you care about but really, you don’t. Obscure childlike crushes and high school-ish jealously? A class whose politics and idiocy has shockingly spilled over and encompassed your every free moment and you don’t even LIKE the point of it? It’s like being forced to paint a really shitty picture with half a brush.

I realized today that there’s was no why for all of this. The “how”- the too distraught with life to even speak to an old-friend I never see in person these days, the mental collapse shortly thereafter, being within five seconds of grabbing my shit and leaving town, the wasting of two hours on a beautiful afternoon doing shit for a doomed project and another four in some half-cognitive sleep-like state trying to forget the whole affair- is just foolish. I find myself in the “golden age” of my life, doing this. This.

Broken. That’s what it came down to. It wasn’t workin’, so I stopped the bleeding. Maybe there’s consequences for all this, academic/social ones for this micro-reality I call school. But maintaining sanity and peace-of-mind is larger than that, and sacrificing either for anything so unsubstantial is an utter waste of life.

Eight. Eight bits of my reality severed and tossed out with uniform speed. That’s the thing with all this death… Makes you wanna live. Sounds a little cliche, sure- but when I look ’round and see these walls, these politics, these uncaring minds…

I can’t help but wonder what I could find elsewhere.

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You may be wondering (yes you, both of you) about my definition of “rebooting” a site when I haven’t been arsed to update it in two months. So! Here’s an update on just why that is:

In the last two months, I’ve been attached to three different film projects. Given that this is what I intend to do with the rest of my life, I’m quite content to spend all my energy on such things before anything else. Those projects are:

- A web series that, I think, will be online by the end of the month. “I think” because there were apparently some legal issues with the Native population (sadly, it didn’t involve blankets) last week which forced one episode to be canceled completely. We still have two left, so, maybe I’ll be able to share that eventually. However, there’s very much a reason I refer to it as Project Clustfuck- the concept is, for lack of a better term, retarded, and three-fourths of the class cannot participate in the weekend shoots (jobs, having lives, etc) which causes all sorts of lovely scheduling and pre-production issues. But aside from that, it’s dandy.

- A documentary I wrote and directed concerning Yaak, Montana. It’s not eating my timestuffs right now, given that I’m not editing it, but it was for most of February/March. We also shot it in full-HD while it was actin’ all wintery up there, so it. Looks. Gorgeous. And I will most certainly be spamming it online when it’s done.

- A short film a friend of mine did locally. Shot on film, which is quite an adventure in backasswards technology. It has been a hilariously long weekend that ended today with our crew of about 12 crowding a sidewalk and having a gun waved around. It was fantastic.

I also pitched a senior film for next year, had it handily rejected, and have since worked the system into allowing me to do it under the guise of “independent study”. But yes- it involves monsters and people stranded in the forest after an apocalypse. Sounds like win to me.

And throw onto that a healthy dose of other classes with homework and regular exams, a job five nights a week, and you have the very reason I usually choose to collapse into a fit of House or Atlantis during my nightly hour of free time.

But there’s light at the end of the tunnel, so I believe there are actual updates coming. In the meantime, I’d like to say Happy Easter with the following trips down memory lane:

March 27th, 2005 – Happy Easter!

April 14th, 2005 – My public flogging of a mentally incapacitated commenter on the above post.

And here’s Raptor Jesus:

Good day.

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