Third Person Angst

...and that was it. Maybe their wasn't a point in doing anything anymore. All of his "friendships" had more or less run their course. If you could even call them that. Friendship implies more than talking. It implies physical interaction in the form of spending time with one another. Not something he'd done a lot of over the last few years. He does know he's being melodramatic, but it's hard some of the time not to be. What with his inability to keep any sort of social relationship going. It's the same sad series of events all over again for him. It's gotten a little easier, he guesses.

Books

I have in the last week read roughly six and fifty hundred pages from novels. The first being the last three hundred of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon the second being all of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. That easily illustrates what sort of time I have on my hands. Kavalier and Clay was a grand novel in both scope and execution. Chabon really brought to life the climate of the era (the forties and early fifties), and he made the world of early superhero comic books deeply interesting in what felt like a universal way. Which is a feat daring only a truly skilled writer could pull off. I do imagine, however, it's slightly more fun/interesting if you're already familiar (even just a little) with the history of the medium. It's a book of wonder, romance, and possibility. And I highly recommend reading it, unless you hate happiness. The Bell Jar being the other book this week I have sunk my time into was just as engrossing. I wouldn't already have finished it otherwise. I'm ashamed it's taken me this long to read it. I quite liked the way Esther viewed the world around her, and was floored by Plath's descriptions of mental illness. I was surprised at how humors parts of the book happened to be. I obviously mean parts in the first half or so of the novel when she's in New York. I would rank it up next to Ask The Dust by John Fante and for me to do so says how much I really enjoyed the book. And I do wish I could use Elly Higginbottom as a fake name now. Hm. Maybe I will some day. I'm grateful that this novel was suggested to me. Or chances are I would of continued to put off reading it.

Next on the reading agenda is Shopgirl by Steve Martin, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, and Everything is Illuminated by Jonathon Safran Foer. Not all to be read at the same time. I guess I could try, but I don't think I'd get as much enjoyment out of each novel. After this I should probably move on to books I've already bought and paid for.


Yippy for interesting blog posts.

I haven't talked about music on here for awhile, so I think I'll post some songs. Listen to them.









Hopefully these were enjoyable selections.

This Is All True, But Not Meant For Anyone.

Do you ever chew gum? I do. Not so sure why. Trident is my brand. The flavor varies. Sometimes it's watermelon twist other times its bubble gum. And even other times it's some citrus combo. The is sometimes cuts my gums, the edges are surprisingly sharp. It's sort of a comfort to chew it though. I have to be needlessly active. Why am I telling you about this you ask? I'm not sure. I thought you'd find it interesting. Since it's not exactly peculiar, but not ever soul on earth does it. The vast majority can't though. So saying that is sort of insensitive.

Do you ever drink soda? Or do you call it pop? Not that it really matters. It means the same thing. I stopped a few weeks ago. To see if cutting out those pointless calories would help me loose some weight. Not sure if it is. It's not that I think you should. You drink it to your hearts content, if you so please. I just don't feel the best about myself, so as I said, I cut it out of my diet.

Do you like movies? I hope so. I adore them. The silver screen sparkles so splendidly. It's a great way to fill time, instead of staring endlessly at pointless computer screen. But if you don't like them, it's okay. We can't have everything in common.

Do you like books? That I can't just brush off. Literature is deeply important to me. Reading is a gateway to all sorts of fun and adventure, and if you want none of that, you want none of me. Books have changed my life on many occasions and shaped the person yammering at this very moment.

Back To Chapel Town

I wonder what I should be when growing up becomes an option to me. A librarian seemed like a sure thing until the realization of statistical analysis became apparent. Spending time figuring out the interests of a town or schools demographic doesn't like something I would want to spend a lot of time learning about or doing. But selecting authors and musical artists to put on the shelves would be such a wonderful thing to do. But things put out would probably be looked over for Danielle Steel and Lady Gaga. Since most people aren't looking to expand their usually small horizons. Say Cult Of Luna's Somewhere Alone The Highway put out in the boonies of public library cds would anyone dare to venture into uncharted territory to be rewarded with a dense and deeply emotional album. Probably not.

Maybe a generic English major is the way to go. Drinking too much wine and writing things poorly, so later in life I can fail to write a novel or a poetry. And writing isn't something I do often or ever. Since everything that would come out would have been said by someone else only with more feeling. Typing out cliches for a grade doesn't seem like a way to spend time. Anything that comes out of this mind would be roman à clef anyway. What sane person would ever want to hear mostly made up stories based upon the few people I've known. It would be drab, banal, and boring. But still so far riding high on the list of things grown up me will try and do.

Or a social worker. Helping people has always been a dream of mine. Thank Batman for that. To think I could put someone on a better path towards contributing to the world would be a wondrous feeling. Making sure people grow up right or don't ruin their family or their own lives is beyond a grand thing to set ones life to. But the failures I would most certainly encounter would be very hard for me to handle, so this might be too dangerous of thing for me to do.

Perhaps all of things future careers are too far fetched for a failure such as me. One doesn't know until they try I guess. Whatever happens becoming one of the cops is out of the question. And maybe we'll never know. Becoming terribly withdrawn from the world seems like a possible outcome for me too.

In The Now

So, here I am. Sitting around feeling genuinely sexy. And no one to share this fleeting overconfidence with. In a sort time it'll be gone and back to feeling the opposite of this I'll go. But at least this will be here to remind me, that one day for a short while I felt sexy as hell. All of this is a far cry from what it's been like the last few days. Uncontrollable anxiety is a faraway feeling at the moment. It'll be back kicking the door down sooner or later, and ruin my otherwise nice numb day.

Perhaps this should be updated more. So all zero of you can be privy to all of the bullshit that flies through my mind. That wouldn't be terribly exciting since it's made up of so few parts. And I'm not feeling as if any of that needs to be divulged anyway. Since it probably wouldn't be all that surprising anyway. Wonderful.