NP: Sleeping Beauty - A Perfect Circle

Easily-offended people
Circle I Limbo

Trendy emo kids
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy Wind

John Woo
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & Snow

Frat boys, Delirious
Circle IV Rolling Weights

"Tough guy" rap scenesters
Circle V Stuck in Mud, Mangled

River Styx

Extremists
Circle VI Buried for Eternity

River Phlegyas

Illogical people
Circle VII Burning Sands

The Bush administration
Circle IIX Immersed in Excrement

Intelligent, arrogant people
Circle IX Frozen in Ice

Design your own hell

NP: Styrofoam Plates - Death Cab for Cutie

Fuck this shit. I give up.

Just when I thought my mood couldn't get any darker, my mom comes in and gives me shit for owning Donnie Darko, a movie she's never seen and couldn't understand if Richard Kelly explained every second of it to her. I had to consciously restrain myself from striking her narrow-minded, prissy little face, which is something I've never been driven to before. I'm sick of this. All of it. It's all just bullshit. My past, my future, and my heart are at the mercy of a mean little woman who never once tried to understand me and called it love.

My only memories of better times are contained in a travel-sized shampoo bottle sitting next to my computer, but they only threaten to destroy the dam holding my tears in check.

It's over. There's no way out.

NP: How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead

God. Damn. It. All.

I can't do it.

Tonight, driving home from Ethan's place, I passed a girl in a beat-up Volkswagen Golf. As I passed her, I glanced over and our eyes met. Her eyes were dark but sparkled in the amber wash of the street lamps. In a bold move of self-confidence, I managed a shy smile as I passed (I wasn't going much faster than her).

I nearly ran her off the fucking road.

As I sped away in shame, I realized this singular event will haunt me for months (if not years) to come. One stupid little mistake, and I won't be able to forget it. A few moments after I realized this, I began berating myself for the fault of not being able to accept my mistakes, which lead into a paradoxical self-assailing loop.

You say love isn't like that. Love isn't earned by being perfect. Love is freely bestowed upon the receiver from the giver despite the receiver's shortcomings. A beautiful, poetic thought, but where's your proof? People like me aren't allowed to be human. We don't need hugs or shoulders to cry on; we're strong, intelligent, and independent. We don't make stupid mistakes because we're smart. If we do make such a mistake, we fail everyone we've ever loved. Everyone's watching us. We're role models, an inspiration to those around us. We can achieve anything we set our minds to because we're so capable.

Just don't drop the ball. Not even once.

Only scornful, ordinary, base-born humans drop the ball. And scornful, ordinary, base-born humans aren't worthy of love.

Be the good son.

NP: Stem, Long Stem (Transmission 2) - DJ Shadow

So the long-awaited parental advent turned out to be something of a nonevent. My dad was wearing a goofy traveller hat which impeded my immediate recognition of him (he's a dork at heart). I took advantage of being at the airport to eat Panda Express, the ride home was uneventful, and my cleaning job actually passed Mom's initial evaluation.

It so happens I won't be moving for awhile yet. The rents plan to move back to Iowa for a few months to help Uncle Joe sort through the mess left in the aftermath of my grandfather's death (yes, it's been nearly two years, but it was an adamantic mess to begin with), so they need me to watch the house for awhile longer. I can't say for sure how I feel about it. On the one hand, it's nice to not have to worry about apartment looking and moving and everything right now, but I also want to get my own place that I can instill with my own quirky personality without treading on Mom's faux painting and glass angel statues. Plus, I was looking forward to living closer to campus (and on a bus line), but oh well. Soon enough, I suppose.

NP: Forty-Six & 2 - Tool

Quiz time, kids.


Heart of Glass


What is Your Heart REALLY Made of?
brought to you by Quizilla


Your soul is STEADFAST. You are a fiercely loyal
person who would never cross a loved one.
People always know they can rely on you and
your dependability is well-known. You're
probably a little on the quiet side, but your
faithfulness is never doubted, and you always
back up your kith and kin whether they want or
need it or not. You are a dependable and
trusted soul.


What Is Your Soul's Trait?
brought to you by Quizilla


You are the Low-Fidelity All-Star. You were born
with your cool, and it's totally natural. You
run the gamut from Hipster Supreme (only they
can ingest as much coffee as you) to the geeky
hipster (Mario Kart, anyone?).


What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

So I'm a casual hipster who's steadfastly made of glass. Aren't you glad you know me?

NP: Movie Script Ending - Death Cab for Cutie

After a week with the game, I've decided Final Fantasy X-2 is worth buying. It's a significant departure from the standard Square-Enix title, but it's highly enjoyable nonetheless. The "hip" qualities and J-pop influences just make it that much more amusing. Y-R-P!

My parents come home in three days. This means I need to move out soon, but I don't have anywhere to move. The roommate situation fell through, so hopefully Dad will be willing to subsidize my rent for a one-bedroom. Yes, that makes me a pampered little suburban college boy, but one thing I've learned is never to turn down money if someone's willing to give it to you. That said, I'm taking a long shot by applying for a position as an emergency dispatcher for the great Focopopo. I think it'd be a great job, personally. Good pay, something I can handle (radios, keyboard, thinking quickly, etc), and I could do my part to help people without actively enforcing the system. Score one for denial.

My thoughts are slowly solidifying into something useful, which excites me greatly. I feel as though I'm on the brink of a life-changing epiphany. Yes, ridiculously optimistic for the Cynics International poster boy, and part of me is as disgusted with the sugar as you are. Still, this may just signal the metaphoric sunrise I argued against in Melissa's LiveJournal. The pessimist in me still rails against this, and I'm sure I'll swing over to his side a few times before the dust settles, but nossa senhora, this feels good.

I want to run to the end of the world. I want to scream the chorus of Needles and Pins from my rooftop. I want to jump head-first out of a 747 at 31,000 feet. I want to cross swords with a samurai in a whirling dance of death and beauty. I want to sit outside under starlight and drink deeply of the rain-washed night air. I want to drive the darkest, most obscure back roads I can find while listening to Nick Drake and thinking thoughts. I want to savor the unique, delicious flavor of Toy's phad thai kai.

I want to live. I choose to live.

NP: Triad - Tool

A core shift. Something cataclysmic enough to break a 15-year-old wall of self-reproach. Completely uncharted territory behind that divide. Hell, it's not a wall, it's a chasm, a great rend in the fabric of my being, awaiting strength enough to close it and make it whole. Jinkaku kansei ni tsutomuru koto. Demo, watashi wa hito ga kawai desu.

But am I, really? I'm not so sure that is the heart of the issue anymore. What if the chasm was mended? Would that truly bring me closer to completion, or are we as humans meant to bear such scars? I've heard convincing arguments from both sides. Self-esteem, God-esteem, no-esteem, Dubya-esteem...the one consistency is they all try to get me to believe in something, even if it's nothing.

Why? Why do I find it so difficult? Am I afraid of myself, of what I might become? Surely that is a slippery slope, but the power of reason is limited below my collarbone. Ego has always been one of my greatest enemies. I find it intolerable in the average and completely reprehensible in the intelligent.

Tsuriai. That's what it comes down to, as always. I'd prefer to err on the side of caution, but I'm not entirely sure which is the more dangerous side anymore.

I don't seem to be sure of much.

Can't I let myself fail? I'm only human, after all.

"But you're smart. You know better."
"......."

I just want some peace of mind. Why won't she leave me alone?

NP: Any Color You Like - Pink Floyd

Henceforth, this shall be my excuse for showing up alone everywhere I go:

"I just don't have time for a girlfriend. It's not like I can't get a girlfriend, or that I'm too shy or irritating or awkward and short, fat, and ugly with vile bad habits and my robo-asthma...I just don't have time."

Props to We Are Robots for the above quote. Now, if you'll excuse me, Final Fantasy X-2 awaits.

NP: Subterranean Homesick Alien - Radiohead

I feel terrible. I even had to sit out at shotokan for awhile tonight. When I got home, I came upstairs, sat in front of the computer, and proceeded to endure the most violent dizzy spell I can remember. The dizziness seems to have subsided, but I still feel lightheaded and nauseated. I don't know what this is, but I'm not enjoying it. I hope I'm just messed up from eating right before training.

Bleh.

NP: I Write the B-Sides - Eels

PARENTAL

ADVISORY

SAMOVAR CONTAINS EXPLICIT LYRICS

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

I guess my kids shouldn't read this...

*puts his kids back into their respective dresser drawers*

NP: When Girls Telephone Boys - Deftones

It seems Chino's anguished screams are the only music my heart feels like reveling in lately.

You're Pale Fire!

by Vladimir Nabokov

You're really into poetry and the interpretation thereof. Along the
road of life, you have had several identity crises which make it very unclear who you
are, let alone how to interpret poetry. You probably came from a foreign country, but
then again you seem foreign to everyone in ways unrelated to immigration. Most people
think you're quite funny, but maybe you're just sick. Talking to you ends up being much
like playing a round of the popular board game Clue.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I'm thinking Blue Pyramid has very accurate quizzes. I've known for some time I'm sick and unintelligible to everyone around me, but it's always nice to have an online source confirm these things.

I'm just waiting for e-therapy.

NP: Magic - Nick Drake

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. I'm listening to a Nick Drake song from an album he never released. As far as I can tell, this is some sort of b-sides released this year called Made to Love Magic. It includes studio releases of River Man, The Thoughts of Mary Jane, and Three Hours. It also boasts Tow the Line, the last song Nick ever recorded. The CD is an import, which means it was expensive, but its purchase has succeeded in making my entire night.

Yay!

NP: Elite - Deftones

You're North Korea!

Look out!  You're absolutely wacko.  Completely insane.
 There's no telling what you're going to do, and it could make you a danger to
yourself and others.  People are so scared of you that they usually just cover
their eyes and pretend you're not there.  The main impact this has had is to
make you even more scary, as you yearn for attention and contact with the outside
world.  Everyone just wants you to calm down.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Good. One more source confirms my insanity. I was starting to doubt it

NP: Where I End and You Begin -The Sky is Falling In- - Radiohead

i am a mix taper!




How indie are you? test by ridethefader

You're really enthusiastic about the music that you like. You attempt to discover your new favourite
band every week. You continually try to get your friends into the music you like, which annoys the fuck
out of them, but you don't know it. At least you're not arrogant about it.


True enough, I suppose.

Bleh. It's a Radiohead/Eels/Electric Boogaloo type of day.

NP: Pink Maggit - Deftones

I might lose her, so forget about me.

.......

How is it done? How does one hang on to hope? Faith in God, people say. Faith that He'll make everything okay, right? He's up there with blessings galore, waiting to rain them down upon me. All I need do is ask a la Jabez and my territory will increase.

That's not good enough.

Don't get me wrong, I have absolute faith in God. He cannot fail, and He cannot lie. All the universe is His to command at a whim. He could merely think it and everything I ever wanted would come to be. I know why He doesn't, and I'm not one to argue. No river can rise above its spring, no acolyte above his master. I know He works all things together for the good of those who love Him. No doubts at all about His character, actions, or motives.

But He did something that C.S. Lewis calls a "terrible compliment."

He decided to take our decisions seriously.

Therein lies my difficulty. I trust Him; I don't trust myself. Arrogance, some call it. I deem myself able to mess up God's plans, thereby elevating myself to His level or above. To that, I reply, "No, I'm not capable of messing up His plans for me.

I'm capable of fucking them up beyond all repair."

Think about it. He gave us free will, which means we can give Him the finger if we choose and completely ignore His plans "to prosper us, to give us a future and a hope." I don't think He ever willed for humanity to fall in the first place, but He gave us the choice and we, like the damn-fool humans we are, could not resist using that power.

"But you're a Christian, right? You want God's will for your life, you don't want to resist Him." Consciously, of course not. The problem is, how am I to know what His designs are? Reading the Bible isn't going to help in this case, either. I need something lucidly addressed to me. Otherwise, there's a good chance I'll a) miss it completely, b) mix it with my own dreams and mess everything up, or c) consider it just another of my foolish notions and dismiss it accordingly. But the odds of my getting that are rather slim; I don't think that's the way He chooses to work in most cases.

What to do, what to do...

In the case foremost in my mind, that of finding the ever-elusive Anoma Melyanna, I see only three options: 1) swear an oath of celibacy, 2) accept my defeat and commit seppuku, or 3) continue plucking the blind bow-boy's butt shafts from my heart in hopes that maybe, just maybe one of the arrowheads will be gold.

As you can see, a list of impossibilities.

"Oh, but you're so handsome and charming and funny and deep and romantic and desperately in need of affirmation." Let's not even touch this one, ladies. The issue of physical attractiveness aside (because there's no question about your mendacity there), let's consider my "great personality." With God as my witness, I swear to you I've always striven to adhere to a code of honor in my conduct and affairs. It permeates every aspect of my life, and I would gladly lay my life down to preserve it.

But...honor is dead. Any value it once possessed has been eradicated by the constant, steady flow of human hedonism and materialism. Its followers are tolerated, patronized, even held up as examples of conduct and character, but we're dying out and the populace at large couldn't be happier.

Dreamers cannot survive in this world.

Arien utulie.

NP: Love's Gonna Find You - Indigo Swing

A ridiculously optimistic song, but I still find it charming. I'm sure I could prove it wrong, but it wouldn't be any sort of victory. "Huttah! I managed to keep everybody from loving me! Now I'm gonna die miserable and alone like Weird Al Yankovic."

No thanks.

Not to say I don't consider the above scenario a possible, even probable ending to my story, but without the "huttah." No, I wouldn't be very happy laying at the bottom of an empty bowl of Kettle Corn, even if I am laced with white cheddar cheese (cheers, comrade).

I feel as though I'm sitting atop a pile of broken dreamer skulls like an orc, my monument to eight years of romantic inclinations, picking through them with no particular agenda or fondness. I suppose the night is partly to blame; memories and emotions are always stronger at night. Still, every pair of empty sockets, every gap-toothed, mirthless grin seems to promise the continuation of the cycle until all the world is overturned and the river of time passes its delta. Time moves forward, but history repeats itself.

No.

Time is not unchanging.

Fate is not carved in stone.

NP: Spybreak! - Propellerheads

Mel told me I'm becoming more "sassy" in my blog. I think this is ludicrous. I have never had anything remotely close to "sass" leave my fingertips. This "sassiness" is simply her projecting her own agression onto a neutral target (that's me for my slow readers).

Anyway, enough about whacky Karakalpakstani nannies. On to the big news: I bought a pair of training nunchaku today. By "training," I mean they're padded so I don't accidentally give myself a concussion while whirling them around at high speeds. I have no sensei and no dojo, so I must teach myself. At least until I get enough money to buy a training video. How did I acquire the money to purchase the nunchaku in the first place, you ask? Simple: they were only $6.

W00t!

NP: Olsen Olsen - Sigur Ros

I be a code-writing fool tonight. As you will see when you scroll down, I added a modest section of links featuring some of my favorite musicians. You should check out any names you don't recogize, as all these artists come highly recommended from the awesomeness of me. As an added bonus, these links will help you relate to my "now playing" feature. If you listen to the same songs while reading my blog that I listened to when I wrote it, it's almost like you're me.

Wait, on second thought, bad idea. Being me isn't advisable.

NP: Art in Me - Jars of Clay

So what do you do at 2:00 AM? Sleep? Watch TV? Talk to your friends online?

Bo-ring.

While you were doing nothing constructive beyond converting oxygen into carbon dioxide, I taught myself a few basic tricks about writing blog HTML. If you'll notice, I've added links and eliminated those irritating colons. Go visit all my links, receive enlightenment, and make sure to congratulate me on my newfound programming prowess.

NP: Zebethian Surface - SuperPope

According to yesterday's horoscope, my recent trend toward brutal honesty is a result of my lunar cycle, so I guess that means I'll have to revert back to my usual elusive self. I hope you've all enjoyed this brief look into the chaos of my existence.

Seriously.
(That one's for you, Mel)

So I'm in an extraordinary mood tonight, and I'm not sure why. I learned Unsu tonight, which is arguably the ISKF's most difficult kata, what with it involving (among other techniques) a 360-degree jump ending in a backward thrust kick. I, being the incredible shotokan acolyte that I am, mastered the failing of this technique on my first attempt. Fortunately, no innocent bones or faces were broken in the process (I did knock out this middle-aged guy in a business suit, but he hardly looked innocent).

I just caught a gnat with my bare hands. That's shotokan karate-do in action.

Oh, you should all visit this site. I enjoy it. Though it may be pointed out that her people leave a lot more comments than my people. *snort*

Wow, I just snorted. I think it's definitely time for a little closed-eye.

NP: No Surprises - Radiohead

I bought some Raisin Bran tonight. As we were leaving the store, Ethan said "You make my butts twiggle." Ryan and I watched movie trailers at his house, and I ate a chocolate donut. I got something of a start on cleaning the place up today. Josh gave me a cool hematite ring this weekend. I'm tired.

Okay, enough? See, I can do this blog thing. I have a relatively normal life. I eat, I sleep, I dress, I have friends, we enjoy ourselves, we talk about stupid stuff, we talk about serious stuff, we go to movies, we hang out, we bemoan our bachelorhood. What more do you want?

Oh.

So what if I'm insane? I don't think it's possible to live in my head and not be insane. And I don't mean the cutesy, funny little "Oh, I'm insane, hahahahaha" high school bullshit. I'm talking about laughing disturbingly while staring yourself down in the mirror because the thoughts in your head are so ludicrous, so paradoxical, so completely at odds with each other that you can't do anything but laugh. Laugh at yourself for being so complete a fool as to believe such things could actually come to pass. Laugh at yourself for doubting solid, firsthand testimony which supports your foolish notions. Laugh at yourself for believing said testimony. Laugh at yourself because you're such a worthless pile of shit. Laugh at yourself because nobody but you made you into said pile and nobody but you can make you into something worthwhile. Laugh at yourself because the solution is right in front of your face but you're too fucking depressed to get up off the floor. Laugh at yourself for staying up every night until 4:00 AM because the interminable, undefined pain in your throat won't permit sleep. Laugh at yourself because tears are cheap, and you're too cynical to cry anyway.

That kind of insanity.

The kind of insanity that's making me post this here, for the entire world to see. Maybe the music and the fatigue in my head are creating a lowered level of restraint similar to the effects of alcohol, but honestly, I think I just stopped caring.

You want to know what's completely and totally insane, though? The fact that, even through all this, I can still sit outside at night, tasting the sweet breath of summer, hearing the silver refrains of crickets, feeling the gentle air move softly across my face, wordlessly returning the gaze of a hundred million stars, and find peace. Complete, all-pervading heion. I honestly can't begin to predict how or when this massive conflict that is me will even out, but those moments of peace, whether they last a second or three hours, never fail to remind me that God's still looking out for me, no matter how I try to discourage Him.

...

Don't ever question that.

Kore wa watashi no yumemiro hito ni mukatte desu.

***
He had a lot to say.
He had a lot of nothing to say.
We'll miss him.
He had a lot to say.
He had a lot of nothing to say.
We'll miss him.

So long.
We wish you well.
Told us how you weren't afraid to die.
Well, so long.
Don't cry
Or feel too down.
Not all martyrs see divinity,
But at least you tried.

Standing above the crowd,
He had a voice that was strong and loud.
We'll miss him.
Ranting and pointing his finger
At everything but his heart,
We'll miss him.

No way
To recall
What it was that you had said to me,
Like I care at all.
But it was so loud.
He sure could yell.
Took a stand on every little thing
And so loud.

Standing above the crowd,
He had a voice that was strong and loud,
And I swallowed his facade
'Cause I'm so eager to identify
With someone above the crowd,
Someone who seemed to feel the same,
Someone prepared to lead the way and
Someone who would die for me.

Will you?
Will you now?
Would you die for me?
Don't you fucking lie.
Don't you step out of line.

You claimed all this time
That you would die for me.
Why then are you so surprised
When you hear your own eulogy?

He had a lot to say.
He had a lot of nothing to say.
He had a lot to say.
He had a lot of nothing to say.

Come down.
Get off your fucking cross.
We need the fucking space
To nail the next fool martyr.

To ascend, you must die.
You must be crucified
For your sins and your lies.
Goodbye.
***

Watakushi wa Kami o tasukerimasu kudasai.