Wednesday, July 04, 2007

 

07.03.07 -- 07.30.07

A closet intellectual?

Undercover scholar?

Ninja erudite?

Whenever I see Elano running on his wheel or we put him in his dope li'l running sphere, I can't help but wonder if he realizes that he's not really going anywhere or if can even see that much ahead to know what he could potentially be running into (and if recent bouts are of any indication, he doesn't-- the sucka rolls right into walls one after another).

And then I really think about it, and that describes a lot of cats that I know.

And I can just imagine them running on that little wheel-- doing all that work mindlessly, going nowhere really.

Or they're in the li'l running spheres. Oh, this time they're going somewhere-- but with no foresight at all.

They're forever running in place or forever running into obstacles.

A fool to let you slip away. I chase you just to hear you say...

You’re scared.

If the plan was to be losing me... it's working.

But, hey.

Guard that nest.

Produce that honey.

No need to cry about it.

Aww... no.

Now that's just facetious.

I take that back.

Let's do a good ol' line-up...

You know what the difference is between us?

In the end all, I'm gonna be okay-- and I know it.

I might be emo for a cool second, minute or even hours on end.

But, when push comes to shove, I'm going to make it work.

I always revert back to my normal state...

and my normal state is a state of comfort.

You don't have that.

As for you...

You don't even know what you're talking about.

Think about it.

It doesn't even make any sense.

Get your stories straight and you wouldn't be so angry all the time.

Son.

And you.

You need to think about the repercussions of your decisions.

Sure, the instants are grand...

but you know that what you're doing is wrong.

You're going to end up hurting a lot of people in the end if you continue with this.

I would never forgive you.

I'm just saying.

Something's gotta change.

Things cannot stay the same.

Don't stop it before it begins.

Peep this: I don't do sexy-- sexy does me.

Ohhh!

Another one.

That marks, what... 4 this year?

Granted, I didn't know them as well as the others, but I was related to them.

Still, it incurs a wave of grief within me like nothing else.

You become their sadness and live in a different state of mind.

This is the last thing I need to be feeling at the moment.

This apartment is too small for me to be able to fall into my own little world.

Taking random walks has started to become a habit.

Luckily, the littlest things can and will make me smile.

I thought I found my Nyquil, but I was taking something generic.

Definitely not the same.

I'm about ready to lock up again.

Rebuild the defenses.

Is there such a thing as too much music?

I can give a verse or lyric for almost all situations.

I hate it when the song playing is exactly what I'm ruminating over about and it sums it up with the exact words in my head.

Confused and regretful, I cracked, swallowed it back and left with no spine intact.

My, how things have changed.

Funny how I've hardly noticed, despite always discussing it.

When did this all happen?

Pretty soon, I'm gonna have to start a new entry.

Month-to-month basis from here on out.

At least for a while.

It was interesting to see how I felt on a day-to-day.

This should prove more than interesting a year from now.

Man, that is one angry snow-man.

I always imagined my tag-line as "Here comes the exception."

What a beautiful nightmare... an intellectual succubus.

I have the pedestal.

I just need the trophy.

I sing so many songs about you.

And he finds himself waiting for a time that never came.

Dramatic prairie dog.

He's the cat who'll say something that he'll find amusing and then look around to see if anyone noticed what he said.

Yeah, he's that guy.

I'm twenty years old.

What did you expect me to do?

I use this format because it's what comes to mind first.

That and the puzzling nature of it all.

Sure, one statement might make sense following or preceding another, but am I really talking about the same subject or two-- or perhaps even multiple?

It's fun 'cause one has to connect what they will reading it like this.

If you can't find the flow, then you shouldn't know.

That and I think it's hilarious.

Careful now.

Give me the opportunity to be obnoxious and I just might take it.

Life is alway grand.

It can only be supplemented.

People don't often put me on blast.

But don't think that I can't take a hit--

just be prepared for the whiplash.

Before you venture into that abyss, it might be wise to find clarity on the things behind you.

The voodoo that you do.

Someone's scared.

What's in a name if we have what we need?

Actions speak louder than words.

I wanna treat you the way you deserve.

We don't need definition.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how people become guarded.

I will do what I have to.

There are many things that'll make you happy.

But there are very few things that'll make you that happy.

I starve with a hunger unknown to me before.

The bigger mystery is why am I doing this to myself?

Everything I do is a distraction-- from you.

If only there were a way to make a living by socializing and through romance alone.

If you are sober and you ask me to do something for you whenever you are inebriated, I will do it.

Now, if you are inebriated, and I do what you ask, and you go against everything you said when you're sober, I will try and vie against it.

If you insist, and say that's what you want, then I will oblige your current request because you're no longer a minor and are capable of responsible thought.

Just don't yell at me the following day as if I made no attempt to dissuade you.

If this constantly seems to be the case, perhaps you need to check yourself in other certain aspects of your life.

Yo' welcome.

=-=-=

It was getting to that point where she could not stand him anymore.

She had had it up to here and was starting to question whether or not the whole relationship was worth it.

There were times in the past when he was a real sweetheart but he was being a real douchebag lately, constantly blowing her off and dismissing her when she needed him the most.

She gave him space. He gave her nothing.

Things were only getting worse and they both knew it.

AIM flashed on her taskbar.

She hoped with every inkling of her being that it was not him.

It wouldn't have mattered what he had to say at the moment, nothing was going to help right now-- she was too hot-headed. It just wasn't the best time.

"You good? You seem to be out of it lately."

It wasn't him. Good thing too-- her room might've went up in flames with her mental combustion if it had been.

It was ol' faithful.

"It's no secret... everyone knows."

For the next hour, she confided in him the current situation as he chided in every now and then with what advice or assuasive commentary he had to offer.

In the middle of her vent, he interrupted. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"What?" His random question totally threw her off her train of thought.

"Haha, look... just answer the question."

Hesitant, but intrigued, she replied. "...Cookies and cream... why?"

"The world's forever churning, okay? All the ingredients we starve for, it's within it, randomly spread out. I promise... one of these days, the world's gonna spit out some cookies and cream flavored ice cream for you-- you just gotta wait until it's done churning it out.

But that's the hard part-- the whole waiting dealy. We're only human, so we're all hungry. Until we find that favorite to vibe off of the rest of our lives, we gotta settle for these other ingredients or what we think is our current favorite to keep our bellies satisfied. You dig?"

She gave a out a little giggle. She could feel the heat fading away from her face.

"Thanks. That was the worst metaphor I've ever heard in my life... and because of that, I'm not even mad anymore. "

"Haha, I never said I was a poet... Listen, I'm hungry. You wanna get something to eat. It might get your mind off things."

He certainly knew how to shut her up. How could she talk if her face was stuffed?

"Now that sounds like a plan."

He pulled up and stopped her advancements as she made her way towards the passenger side door.

He got out, leaving the car on and made his way to the opposite end, opening her door for her.

How sweet. She looked at him with a weak smile full of gratitude.

"What? ...It would only be right." He sported a grin with a playful wink as she watched him make his way back around the front-end of the car.

As she was getting in, she noticed something waiting in her seat.

Ice cream. Cookies and cream. Her favorite.

"Figured it'd cheer you up some, yeah?"

She waited a bit.

"...You definitely know what you're doing."

He was always there for her, through thick and thin, no matter the cost or repercussions.

Slowly but surely, all those times, they've certainly added up.

She smiled on the inside as she looked out at the dashboard.

It was always the little things.

=-=-=

How do you expect her to know or feel special when you're out there treating her like you treat every other girl?

So, it's 2 in the AM and what am I doing?

No, not sleeping like most normal cats.

I'm walking.

No, not sleepwalking either--but walking.

Where am I going?

About 8 minutes down, to the coast.

I sit there, watching the sky and listening to the crash of the waves for half an hour, soaking it in and just thinking--

thinking about a lot of things.

I'm sitting there thinking about the things behind me mostly.

I don't know why, but I find so much more comfort in the nighttime than in the daytime.

I think it's the calm serenity.

I mean, there's a reason why we fall asleep at night.

That and the soft silence.

It's hard to explain but it's a different kind of silence than the kind you might find during the daytime.

It's intangible and ethereal but it almost seems like it's a living entity in itself.

It enshrouds you, much like the darkness, and hides you away so that all the thoughts in your head can either shine boldly like never before or find comfort in their independence within the vacancies of your mind.

I've seen many beautiful things in my lifetime.

Everyday, you keep inching your way towards that list with the way you converse.

Stop.

Just... stop.

Who's stopping?

I'm stopping.

'Cause it's easier that way.

Keep your feet out my shoes.

And your voice out my mouth.

Get your stories straight and you wouldn't be so angry all the time.

Perhaps I'm meant to just forever muse them.

To be that creative force.

I know what you're thinking.

And no, it isn't a gift.

It's a curse being this sexy, okay?

I know, I know.

I'm not complaining.

I'm just saying.

I've been prepping for a downfall.

Like an otter pop for the soul.

Life's too choreagraphed.

Sometimes, you just gotta freestyle.

Some people just refuse to let anything good happen to them.

One must learn to appreciate what is there to appreciate.

You might not like something.

But there's something to be appreciated, at the least.

Real talk.

Never considered contacts much.

Seems like a lot of work.

Besides, I find glasses are sexy.

Plus, mine tint, bish.

It's unfair that I think about you every day.

Blessed are the flexible, for they will never be out of shape.

In my experience, the less that I want something, the more apt I am to get it.

Actually, allow me to rephrase that-- the less that I cared about getting something, the more it seemed that I was constantly surrounded or found by it.

When did this become a competition?

Really, you just need to lounge out.

Concerned with looking stupid?

Just have fun and be comfortable.

Let it go.

People worry too much, and they place much more emphasis on all the bad things that happen to them that they overlook all the good that's constantly happening.

They are far too concerned with being in the right, that they don't know how to react or know how to handle themselves when being in the wrong.

It happens. It's not the end of the world.

Furthermore, people often try to define the "bests" that are out there.

I'll concede that there are indeed "bests" out there but I believe that most of the time those are very relative according to the individual.

However, in many cases, far too often people stubbornly hold onto their ideal(s) to the point where all others' are obsolete.

You best be prepared for the fact that you aren't the ish.

What are you going to do the day you get put in check?

You don't know when to speak up or when to shut up.

And that makes you a fool.

I recommend not taking O-Chem.

Yo' welcome.

=-=-=

She closed the door behind her and found herself mounted in place like a cold pillar, her emotions running rampant in the playgrounds of her mind.

What was she doing?

For a while, she felt like she could possibly hold an inkling of affection for him-- probably did, actually. No, it crossed her mind on way too many occasions. She did.

She just found herself constantly battling in her mind, having to remind herself that this man was not any of the other boys from her past.

She just simply could not let it go, stopping all the love from getting in. All thoughts led to similar conclusions-- the pain of having put in so much, only to have it end in heartache.

She was definitely vibing within the situation at first but she checked herself with such notions as, "You know, this is how it always starts."

Albeit, it took a while, but she slowly began to bury the hatchet, grain by grain. A painstaking process, yes, but she was making the necessary steps.

She put herself out there, just a tad. Was it too late?

She tells herself that if anything happens, it happens. She's already content with the fact that she's achieved that level of just being ready once again. His loss, really.

Funny, it seemed as if the tables had now turned-- she could subtly sense it.

It was now him being distant.

He stepped out the door and it took him a good minute before he started the trek back to his home, convoluted thought raiding every vacant orifice of his mind.

What was he doing?

He thought he had buried the feelings. He was just being patient at first-- it felt too good to leave it at that.

Still, the whole situation kept switching from this and that so he decided to just drop it entirely with no strings and no regrets.

And he believed that it worked-- for a long while, actually. However, he just recently realized that he was just finding ways to distract himself. Oh, that spark was still there, however weak it was, just waiting for some instigation.

Oddly enough, though, he found himself reverting back to enigmatic and aversive self-defenses-- the further he delved into it, the more he wanted to back out.

His front of confidence was no longer as strong as it usually was. His insecurities finally finding their way to the front-lines.

Thoughts of deep rejection now fluttered within his thoughts for some reason-- the pain of being in so deeply, only to have her realize that he wasn't everything that she needed, or at the least, wanted.

His thought process was slothed something proper. At this point, he could not read anything within the context of the situation. He was growing weary, losing his touch. He usually prided himself on reading people, yet here he was, refusing to do so.

Funny, he noticed how the script had just totally flipped.

It was his turn to be scared.

Had it all just come down to good conversation? But that's what always sparked it in the first place.

This equilibrium was getting old...

on both ends.

=-=-=

Oh, I know my insecurities.

They deal with icebergs.

I need to stop being lazy.

And bad TV needs to stop being a distraction.

I really need a physical force to strap me into study mode.

It's a problem.

I like to walk around campus and I find that people are really uptight.

They stare at the ground half the time and hardly anyone ever smiles.

I make it a point to smile and look into the eyes of at least 3 cats on campus.

People often wonder why others are so detached.

It's because most fail to even make these basic, unspoken connections.

So, I drew a picture.

I never meant for it to look like her.

...Or did I?

Random?

Very random, indeed.

Why hadn't she told me any earlier?

And his enigmatic defenses still hold their positions against pervasive technique.

I still have my guards up-- don't know why really.

But you make it farther than most.

You should be proud.

I should make you a medal.

Why you must insist on being so easy to talk to?

So, she's getting married.

Cool.

Don't know this guy.

Cool.

It's a different realm for them.

Cool.

I'm sure he's a fine mine.

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!

Sometimes, it's not about what they have to offer you or what you have to offer them.

Sometimes, it's about a feeling.

You can't help who you feel for all the time.

Why does that irritate you so much?

I am distracting myself.

I am hiding.

There are just some people who walk into your life, for however long or brief it may be, that just make such an impact in your life.

I can only hope I can do the same for someone.

Look, I'm not healing you to hook you.

So, I've been playing the same song right before I go to sleep.

Multiple times, sometimes.

No... not quite sure what I'm trying to do with that one.

How have I existed in this world for this long without having once played Scattergories before?!

What have I been doing with my life?!

Seriously, home-slice.

Seriously.

I like to play a little game called, "I firmly maintain that..."

It's even better when you play with a team.

I'm just saying.

Poor things-- I feel like the only things about me that haven't matured are my ears.

I would say that what my happiness lacks in length, it makes up in height...

but they're pretty even, I must say.

I hadn't heard or seen the word "basorexia" in a long time.

Funny... ask the right person, and you might find that they're inclined to agree that that's the one word to describe the way I've been feeling as of late.

It's been a while since I have suffered or cowered under its influence.

Good or bad?

Tell, what's harder?

Not knowing or having had known?

If you ever thought that you were in love...

you probably were.

The truth is, we all have our own definitions of love.

But one things remains clear-- it's unconditional.

It may have lasted for an hour, a week or even years.

But it lasted for some duration.

The bigger question is whether that love was reciprocated and at what degree, if even at all.

So, here's how I know: I'm wondering what she's doing right now.

Music's a tricky little entity.

In just a simple amount of lines, everything about your current world can be summed up.

And it can be summed up beautifully.

So, it's 3 in the AM, and I look to my left...

and there's a CREATURE looking straight at me with glowing red eyes.

True story.

The roommate's girlfriend got a new pet hamster.

Why would I lie?

I'm willing to dole out a small amount of cash for something that's funny.

I mean, hey, it's funny.

The gag is definitely worth it.

What's the point if you can't even laugh at the little things?

Too aesthetically serious people are sometimes.

Humility.

It's a catharsis of sorts.

I need to do this every now and then to keep a balance...

and my sanity, for that matter.

"I don't know if now, having lived and died the life of a man, I can write about little-boy love, but remembering it now, it seems the cleanest pain I've known. Love without desire, or conditions, or limits-- a pure and radiant glow in the heart that could make me giddy and sad and glorious all at once. Where does it go? Why, in all their experiments, did the Magi never try to capture that purity in a bottle?"

I started reading a book today, something that I haven't done in a while.

I'm a quarter done with it.

I guess my mind has been going through mad withdrawals for some prose.

I now have in my possession real blades.

Oh, the things that are gonna get ninja'd.

Just you wait.

People sometimes say, "It's unfair. You're going to make some lucky girl really happy one day."

On the contrary.

She's gonna make ME happy one day.

She's gonna save me.

Real talk.

The words she says could kill a man.

I've said it before on many occasions.

I just never considered the flipside.

I certainly hope that I do not do the same.

Now, I've never been one to pride myself or hold myself in any sort of high regard, but I wouldn't say that I'm not a catch.

Now if only I could believe that.

There are times when I feel like I don't deserve any of it.

But that's complete bull-honky, donkey.

Perhaps it's fear.

Probably.

I'm not afraid to commit, just afraid to admit. That's a problem sometimes.

That and the whole "I wouldn't want to disappoint you" syndrome. That's a problem too.

You ever just wonder how anyone could ever like you at all?

Well, you shouldn't.

You have your qualities, rest assured, just as I have mine.

I haven't written anything in a while, because I've been busy choreagraphing.

My apologies.

Cunning, witty and clever.

We are a rare crowd.

So, this is how I know.

I feel like I'm in high school again and everyone talks.

In their inebriated mid-conversation, I am put on blast.

And instead of brushing it off like I usually do, it lingers in my mind.

At the end of today, it was mentioned and I suddenly found myself full of regret.

Although my day had not been wasted, after those few spoken sentences, it all seemed inconsequential.

That, and I missed out on some freakin' pazookie. Jammit.

This needs to end, right here.

Somehow.

At some point, something's going down.

And that point is nearing.

You're right. I am just continually adding to this entry.

I'm going to do that until the end of the month.

Interesting, no?

You're welcome.

I woke up today in an odd state.

I took a walk, and all seemed both mute and moot.

It was pretty eerie.

I don't know why, but I've been having bouts of crankiness and impatience within my thoughts recently.

Something will happen, and I will start producing negative feedback in my head.

I think last night was the worst of it. One odd, random comment about my nieces and a storm was stirred up within the depths of me. I don't know if I was yelling because of the intensity of the torrent in my head or because it was loud and I was trying to get a point across.

I told myself that he can't help it. He doesn't understand the repercussions of some of the stuff he says sometimes.

But, I don't let it get out of hand or the best of me. It all leads back to the same question and that is as to why I'm feeling this way lately.

I don't have an answer yet.

Peek-a-boo logic?

I feel like I'm just really trying to distract myself.

I'm pretty sure I am.

Is there some sort of secret when it comes to utilizing your downtime?

Why is it that others are always reminding me that I'm Ryan Mose?

I think it was Ferris Bueller who said it best.

When asked how he'd gotten so sweet, he simply replied, "...years of practice."

We came to moon the world.

I was once described as an "anachronism".

To this day, I still don't know whether or not to take it as a compliment.

Please do not put me on a pedestal.

Don't think that I am in any way better than you are.

I am just like you, like everyone.

Look, it's true I value respect and I certainly hope that I have yours...

but don't let that respect or anything of the ilk put you in a position where you're being careful of how you are around me or affect the way in which we converse.

You've met me before, in some form or another, much like I've probably met you, without our actual having contact before.

You have nothing to prove to me.

I don't judge.

I don't have a gavel.

Every now and then, I find myself zoning out, just thinking of synonyms for soothing and calming.

Assuasive. Serene. Tranquil. Pacifying. Emollient. Demulcent.

If the plan was to be losing me...

You certainly were on your way.

I'm still waiting for the moment when I can firmly say, "...Copacetic."

So, here's the stupid part.

I still can't come to grips with it.

I still have it in the back of my head to try and convert to a state of "normalcy".

It wasn't until recently that I started feeling like I've done myself a great disservice.

Or, to a larger degree, to my parents.

Those stupid attempts to conceal my abilities developed into poor academic habits that are now biting me in the ass.

Sometimes, I feel like I could've been so much more.

For them.

For myself.

I can't get it back.

All this because I didn't want the spotlight.

I look back now and I certainly could've had my cake and ate it too.

Anyone can, really.

It's all about perspective.

That's the stupid part.

Have you ever woken up with your shirt on backwards?

You go to sleep and you wake up...

and everything's the same, just like how you left it.

But something doesn't feel right.

That's what how things are right now.

Everything is exactly as it has been...

but something just doesn't feel right.

At least, moreso than usual.

NO ONE... can dick a badass.

Even moreso, a classy badass.

I'm just saying.

And the air outside's so soft...

Confessing everything.

There's a difference between growing up and growing old.

So comfy.

Not fair.

At this point, has it just come down to good conversation?

But that's what always sparked it in the first place.

Stop it.

Just... stop.

No one should be this good at acting stupid.

Really.

Frickin' A. That just happened.

I really cleaned that joint before I left.

I felt like a parental.

WTF, mate?

It was brought back to my attention the other day, but it's a fact that I've always known:

I don't know how to take a compliment.

I don't know. I really can't.

At best, I can force a smile and mutter a weak "thank you", but for the most part I mostly retort by flipping the script and praising the appraiser for the very same reason(s).

I've been pulling sessions more than I usually do and staying up later working on pieces than I usually do.

A sudden onslaught of inspiration-- but is that good or bad? And for who?

Every song I hear and every work that I see have been affecting me more than lately.

Yeah, I'm chillin'. The flux fluctuates and time always rolls forward.

Did you hear something?

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!

Why do the villains always have the fun songs?

It starts riiiiight about here...

Within, home-slice.

If it's a noble ideal, then why let others' thoughts pollute it?

People need to realize that being alone is sometimes a good thing.

What are you trying to prove?

Sometimes, it's not about the success, but about the significance.

Time won't give me time.

By whose hand have I become myself?

We do what we do because we decide to.

To mourn over her death would an insult to her memory.

What's the point if you can't enjoy even the little things?

Oh, and the background's nice too.

It's not always about you and it's not always about the self.

Always trying to be in the right makes it harder when being in the wrong.

Watch yourself, 'cause you never know when I just might ninja...

YOUR FACE.

It's an experiment in which I am trying to make a point.

So, prepare for the coup of the century.

Relax.

Balance.

I'm just saying.

=-=-=

And she says to me, "You see this?

This...

This represents your heart.

And this...

This represents the key to your heart.

Now, it's small and unexpected-- like many things in this world.

It hangs...

but it also falls and is easily tarnished.

It's going to need some cleaning every now and then.

But, you have to remember that your heart's always beating--

it's sometimes weak and it's sometimes strong.

So, you see, it's not your job to protect it...

it's your job to bring it back to a state of strength.

That's what this is for.

It's a representation.

You can hold it, you can clean it and you can wear it on your sleeve...

but most of all, it's within your sights.

No relic holds value without having its own story to tell."

=-=-=

Docking out...
-Ryan : loungin' like a Lazy Boy, son

Ryan posted this at 3:31 AM.