Open Diary - littlefallsmets

Open Diary - littlefallsmets http://www.opendiary.com/entrylist.asp?authorcode=A758067 but it beats the darkness continued http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22428 http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22428 In my dreams, I am running from police through the service tunnels of malls and getting more lost with every turn. In my dreams, I am hurtling through half-carnival/half-Roma encampments in a car with no brakes and the doors all welded shut. In my dreams, I am watching movies no one ever heard of and hiding out in diners where food fights between truckers are about to break out and aliens are hiding in the corners waiting to abduct me. Okay, here's the thing. Here's the thing, here's the thing, here's the thing and then I'll try to shut up about it for a while. It's not just the hours of getting screamed at a day. It's the way that every other minute of the day is about either trying to recover from being screamed at or in fear of being screamed at. There's no escape, I'm followed into my dreams and I can't fall asleep until five AM any more. My lower back is on fire all the time, my left arm is weak from tremors, right now I can barely walk from a charlie horse in my right leg from having my muscles tensed for so long. It doesn't stop. It never stops. Even when it isn't happening, everything is about trying to heal or worrying about when it is coming back. Even if she's quiet for a coupla days, even, it doesn't mean anything because I'm just trying to heal still and I'm in mortal fear or when its coming back. It doesn't stop. It never stops. I have spent a month trying to push back at a ceiling that doesn't stop falling and it is even in my dreams. I swear to God now, I'm gonna trying to come up with some jokes about Star Trek or fucking or a song parody. I don't actually like writing about this all the time. I don't actually like thinking about this all the time. It's just all there is. The emotional abuse is a fog I'm constantly walking through. My girlfriend asks if maybe I should go to therapy again for this but... holy shit... I feel like I must have some kind of ridiculous supersanity to not have completely cracked yet. I still see the real number of lights, y'all, no matter how many times I've been told to believe a lie. I'm trying to make up a joke about fucking, I swear to God. Sat, 4 Feb 2012 00:00:00 GMT exhausted http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22427 http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22427 My finger and toenails have never been shorter in my life. It's basically just the little white halfmoon and blood at the corners. That's what pass for fingernails these days. The tremor in my left arm returned today. The one that appeared the night I thought my brother had a tumour, the uncontrollable shaking of my left hand is back. It is not neurological aging, it is not nerve damage, it is my broken inner world manifesting physically. My ma screamed at me for a coupla hours and... Have you just been under so much stress that you're just physically exhausted? Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. My sanity feels like it's hanging from me the way a baby tooth would be just barely clinging to a little bit of gum when I was a child, that way where you know one more painful little twist is gonna do it. One more painful twist. I am seriously close to a total nervous breakdown, in no uncertain terms. I can't take this. (I have had to fix four different termor-related typos so far.) I started getting lectured by ma about how my toes are bleeding from my obsessive-compulsion taking over and just... compulsively hacking at my finger and toenails with whatever sharp things I can find. I can't control it when I'm this wound-up and beat down. After about two hours of that, I just started rambling about how the shit she's putting me through is why this is manifesting so don't fucking lecture me and then the room starting spinning. That was fun. That was fun. I was stammering. This is the newest one, I start stammering from the stress, my words are the only thing I'm any good at and I'm under so much stress I'm fucking stammering. My words fail me. (Three more typos.) I sometimes wonder if she's trying to kill me or if she's trying to break me down to build me into the horrible person she wants me to be or... if she's trying to infantilize me so I'll be her little boy or... If she's just insane and cruel. I'm at the edge. Ugh. So anyway, here's three failed poems from the notebook and after that, the notebook's exhausted. *** I got one foot in Los Angeles and one in New York and between Utica's got me by the balls I keep trying to make myself a name but I stumble and fumble just the same in a series of painful little falls *** I am out of ideas I am out of ideas my big goddamned idea is to tell you that I'm out of ideas I'm stalling for time I'm trying to make something up that's worth having or for the world to end a rapture or a rupture from my head *** follow me to my moonbase I don't know where it is but we'll build a fucking rocket with suits for hers and his Sat, 4 Feb 2012 00:00:00 GMT twenty-seven http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22426 http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22426 1.) Like most men of my generation, my essence is a pretty even mix of Eros, Thanatos and Spaghettios. 2.) Things I have learned: chain arts and crafts stores have the cleanest mens' rooms in the world because men try so hard to not be in there. 3.) Idea: prequel series about Patton in high school, being shaped into the man he'll become. Kind of a Smallville thing. Title: PATTON PENDING. 4.) The problem with being an expert on failure is that the moment you receive your due acclaim, it's also the moment you lose your expertise. 5.) you can't spell "performing" without "reforming" or, at least, something like "reforming" 6.) If Oscar Wilde had been straight, the quote would'a been "I may be lying in the gutter but I'm looking up your dress." 7.) trepanning is really just another form of skullduggery 8.) Cutting down snowbanks with a small shovel isn't entirely productive but it is somewhat effective anger management. 9.) When the British man said he got into a sticky wicket, it seemed like a charming regionalism, I had no idea he had an Ewok fetish. 10.) 83% of all people who have problems with authority are actually just bothered that they're not the one in authority. I am of the other 17.So there is a sex symbol for geek ladies & his last name's Cumberbatch? Is this a thing? It feels like a massive prank. Are we being punked? It sounds like a sandwich we'd get for afternoon tea at a dildo shop. 11.) Potential catchphrase idea: "I'm Mike Cecconi... and I've got a catchphrase." 12.) On the smoke detector at the Tram, there's a drawing of a man and flames and I always think the flames are the word "Ahhhh!" at first glance 13.) Leather jackets are on the outro, friends, blood-stained hoodies are the new black. 14.) They could only travel back to their senior proms, they checked the label, it turned out to be a tux capacitor instead. 15.) I'll tear a single phone number off a new wanted flier that's untouched, not cuz I want the thing, just so it looks less sad. 16.) I like screaming in public, if only there was a living wage in it. 17.) Is there a band named The Providers? That's gotta be the best name ever. 18.) It's one of those days where I feel like the universe is a housecat and I'm a mouse, mangled beyond belief, but kept alive just to amuse it. 19.) parody ideas: that "You And Me Baby Ain't Nothing But Mammals" about Scrabble/Madonna's "Material Girl" about Kitty Pryde, immaterial girl 20.) The likely real fear that there's probably a fan-made furry porn "American Tail Too: Fievel Grows Breasts" somewhere out there paralyzes me. 21.) The problem with speaking for the oppressed is that once you're known for it, you're no longer oppressed yourself. It's a planned cycle. 22.) in the future, it won't be so bad so tell me when the future's here 23.) If I had a dime for every good idea I've lost in the time between leaving the shower and getting to the keyboard, I could run for Congress. 24.) "So remember, our products here at Green Ghost Organics are all... super-natural!" 25.) What's trendy and bland and murdered by a tar monster? Kasha Yar. 26.) There's gotta be a porno parody where an alien gives a dude a magic cockring and he's the Peen Lantern, right? Right. 27.) Mike Cecconi... vacillating between delusion and despair since 1979. Thu, 2 Feb 2012 00:00:00 GMT the future http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22425 http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22425 Liquor stores are a lot of things, some of them good and most of them less than good, but overlooked is the fact that they are something of a canary in a coalmine. People drink more when things are bad, cheaper and cheaper the worse things get. Cheaper and more. Generally speaking, you have to be bottoming the fuck out when even the liquor stores are having trouble. So, of course, wandering around South Genesee Street in Utica, there of course was an entirely shuttered fucking liquor store. If a liquor store can’t make it in south Utica, what the fuck do we even have to say? Canary in a coalmine. I mean. It’s the future now, it is the goddamned future, it is the future now in no uncertain terms for someone born around when I was in America, for someone of my generation, of the generation after X, for someone from The Poor Generation. If it isn’t the future now that we’re in our middle thirties to our middle twenties, if it isn’t the future now at least for us, it’s never gonna be. I mean, 2012, even if you don’t believe the Mayan stuff or the Hopi stuff or the ramblings of Saint John stoned out of his mind on shrooms on a Greek island in the year 300 or have a tin hat and are long awaiting Emeru, I think this should be well agreed that this is the fucking future. The future was supposed to be dreary and crazy, sure, but it was supposed to be dreary and crazy in a fashion that was at least exciting and new. It was supposed to be like Bladerunner or Mad Max or some dystopian twin of the Jetsons, anyway. The riots were supposed to be over… access to genetic engineering or… fuckin’ scary robots or fuckin’ sexy robots or… spaceships to the moon that turned evil. We were supposed to be warring over water or with Satan or with aliens that sublimate lesser races into their collective consciousness. There were supposed to be runs at the shopping centres for cybernetic brain implants and zap guns and tickets to Mars and the year’s newest model Nissan jetpack. Instead, we’re rioting in rags again, begging for jobs and medicine again, protesting on the same streets as we were in the last Great Depression. The first Great Depression, the last time we let businessmen run this crazy, the Great Depression before this one. This is supposed to be the future and it ain’t feeling like it. Closed liquor store on South Genny, man. Canary in a coalmine. Thu, 2 Feb 2012 00:00:00 GMT elucidation http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22424 http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=A758067&entry=22424 To explain to you what it is like inside my head, this is pretty much it: Sometimes, in my moments of weakness, I wonder if my life is such a wreck because I need to keep soaking up humility and perspective so that when I'm eventually successful, I maintain the perspective of being beaten down and the knowledge that comes with it to use when I'm a success. To put it even simpler: I sometimes think I suck so bad because I need to suck to be this awesome. It's hard living with both an inferiority AND a superiority complex at once. It isn't fun but it is always interesting. Wed, 1 Feb 2012 00:00:00 GMT