Month: July 2003
I can’t believe how my day has gone. My highlights are falling down earlier, getting my head hit by the door when Mike entered the room, watching some of Fellowship of the Ring, trying to figure out how many hours +/- General Mean Time I need to set Tampa Bay For Dean and writing about one paragraph on the newest short story I am writing.
Wooo fucking hoo hoo. Wild day at the office. It’s a good thing there haven’t been many on this journal lately because honestly – the news I am reporting should bore the shit out of anyone.
A whole lot of blah
A whole lot of blah being served up on patrami, hold the pickle.
I’m talking to Miguel about guest-blogging in here for me while I am out of it. i might offer that option to a few others. It’s not so much so he can report about me as he can just try to keep the journal going while I am out of commission later in the month.
I mean, he’s no Howard Dean who guest-blogged for a professor at Stanford, but he’s one damn good “journal”ist.
In other news – I can’t bring myself to finish a story I started that was going to be very short. A guy getting flowers annonymously while at work. Seemed like a good premise and it is – I actually got a resolution drawn out and know how it’s going to end. I’m just being lazy in actually putting the words down onto the document (“paper” doesn’t apply because I am typing, damnit).
Dejà-VooDoo than I Do
Very, very dejÃ-vu…
See, about a year ago I had some things happening to me that made life a big worry… A worry much bigger than your day to day but not so incomprehensible that you would think I’m an alien or something like that (though the Men In Black would argue that)… It’s just something that hung over me much like a new job, moving, or some other great unknown worry would have this feeling of heaviness over you. There’s anxiousness and anxiety to go along with it and a question of just where this will take you.
That was a year ago and I’m repeating it this year.
Yep, John’s got a scheduled date for surgery now – Wednesday, August 20th at Tampa General Hospital. Pre-op on Monday the 18th. I’m thinking of other odd things going on — Bill’s sister is due to have her 2nd kid about that time and — it’s SO STRANGE because that is what happened last year while I was in the hospital.
Very strange, very deja-vu.
Of course this year I won’t be writing to anyone on the pager, telling them soemthing I should have told them the night before I had the operation…
…Nor do I think I’m going to be out of the hospital in 3 days. Hell, I don’t even know if I will be back to walking anytime soon after surgery. I’ve talked about my legs being weak as is right now – I got to imagine if everything goes fine I’m still going to have weak legs and on top of it I might have to “learn” how to use them again.
I don’t know if I will need rehab or what… I don’t know if I should be looking intot he ibot or the Segway because of future lack of mobility… (then again, I want to look into the Segway no matter what so that whole point is moot).
At any rate, after a night off from the computer, I’m writing again with another story… Maybe assignment 4, I didn’t look at the assignment as much yet but I’m writing with constraints just because. Sort of good story but I think it’s been done before…
Also, Melanie will be glad to hear that John got disc 5 of 24 season 1 in the mail. I may very well have that watched by the end of the day… God I love that fucking show
What the heck happened with my Netflix Profile???
Oh, it’s not like something wrong or bad happened to it. Quite the opposite really. Netflix, it seems, made two of my movie reviews spotlighted (that or there is a glitch in the system) and I am very much surprised to find that some of my reviews have large numbers of people who have voted to describe my reviews as “Helpful”.
For example, check out the review for Jewel of the Nile by Stonegauge and you’ll see that this crappy movie and subsequent review has a ton of votes now for it…
Also, my review of X-Files: Fight the Future now has seven favorable votes in it’s name. All my other reviews (from The Naked Gun 33 and 1/3rd to the Buccaneers Super Bowl DVD) have somewhere below 10 votes to them – mostly 1 or 2.
Personally I think it’s a technical glitch but who cares? I’ll take it!
And for those following my 24 Season-renting-saga, it is now 4PM on the day of the California Presidential Primary. Disc 4 was much weaker than the first 3 discs (first 12 episodes) mostly because the product can’t keep providing great plot twists over and over again. I can’t get into details because I don’t want to spoil the show (I consider it like a movie after seeing as much as I have) for those who have not watched it yet. It’s that good.
So it’s late night Saturday (early Sunday, bloody, Sunday morning) and I’m losing myself in my writing again as I have at times of the past few months.
Ahh, the comfort in text – now if it was only worth reading… and if there was only proof people read this stuff (hint hint — click the comment link below and leave a comment about any given entry).
I used most of my day for writing and for 24, disc 4 (It is now 4 PM on the day of the California Presidential Primary) but I had a little incident this afternoon that re-inforced the scary part of my life…
My right leg gave out on me – twice.
I bent down to pet my cat, Smokey — hunkered down — and the leg had no strength in it (at the thigh). I struggled to get my balance and to not fall on my ass or whatever…
OK, maybe it was three times… I remember trying to get up from a chair and it giving out on me again… along with one other instance of leg weakness.
Monday I’m going to learn the date of snip-snip (surgery) and I hope I get to speak to Doc Smith before then.
Sleep time is near… must go… must go… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Dwelling and Moving on
Sometimes, sosmething or someone pains me. All my close friends know that I’m sensitive about shit and what not… They also know I tend to dwell and that bothers them. That bothers me in some ways looking at it long and hard.
Some of the poetry on this very site I wrote while dwelling on the good and the bad, the wants and the hurt with people. Dwelling leads to a lot of inspiration for these works, which is a good thing (not saying I want to be hurt, because I’d prefer the dream, but I actually thought it would be better for my writing being hurt again… That note is for the Eerie out there if they’re reading)…. But dwelling seems to be bothering a lot of people and myself included.
Time heals all wounds… Cry me a river, build me a bridge, and get the fuck over it and all that jazz… it just doesn’t work with me.
I dwell on details with people, I dwell on the feeling, the emotion, the pain — or even the euphoria when I feel it. The happiness… but it’s with who I’m feeling those things with that I dwell on – not the events specifically. I could name five events where I got hurt badly emotionally but I couldn’t tell you specifically when I last went hysterical laughing with someone I cared for, or 5 specific times i made someone lose control of themselves with making them happy or laugh or whatever. (ah, memories – i can think of one specific instance off the top of my head).
Actually that’s not quite the truth – it’s just the negative comes out easier than the positive… The negative leaves a more lasting impact than the positive. That’s human nature though. There are plenty of instances that enjoyment / mutual laughter I have had with friends and family but those don’t stand out as monuments so much as negative things. I can think of positive things that stand out as monuments with people but those monuments are faulty idols now from a long-extinct tribes of the world, or so it feels.
I don’t want to dwell on the negative things I could think, I want to move on, I want to move away… Yet, how? How can I?
At the same time I don’t want to hurt anyone trying to get my own personal escape and move on through another, only to toss them away when I’m over things. I’d rather carry my pain than bestow it on another person. I’m “messed up” like that… I care where other people say they don’t.
I care too much, for god sake… I talk to a friend off and on all day yesterday and today and I feel funky, if not upset, when I find out she’s got a guy friend over her place? Why do I take it so personal? Just my own selfishness? My own idealistic dream that someone woudl want to hang out with me?
I don’t want to be aloof in life. I don’t want to close off my heart to everyone except a select few… Yet I don’t want to carry un-needed burdens like this.
For the record, I don’t think I did when I was truly happy — but right now I’m not, and I don’t know how to get there from here.
Survival of the Fittest
Well, the good news is I am not dead yet.
No, no… it’s not that bad, I’m just tired right now and not thinking straight for the most part. I got to Bartels office at 11, waited till about 1 to see him, you can imagine how much fun that was. And my appointment didn’t last more than 10 minutes… I mean, I like the guy, he’s someone that you got to respect and trust, but jebus, Doctor Bartels, hire another doctor to share the load with yourself… There were people in there that waited just as long or longer than I did to see him and it’s just sorta sad.
So what IS the verdict anyway?
I’m honestly not exactly sure, though I should have been more forward in finding out what was up though Doc was pretty certain that it wasn’t tumors in my head doing everything that was wrong with me. The tumor that is causing my leg weakness is also helping throw off my balance from what I was told…
Great, perfect, juuuuuuuuust perfect…
But it’s not as grim as I saw it just a week ago, that’s good. Not going to be pleasant though with whatever the next step is – that’s bad.
Anyway, in other news I’m getting attached to another Howard Dean support site by my web-friend Chris who runs the satire extremes George Bush for President ’04 (or W04), Red Tide News, and of course the social blog Kill the Web which I regularly contribute to over there (but too often in a political form and not just social stuff and pop culture mumbo jumbo that could easily be bloggered). This new site (deanfilter) goes on top of my message board for the local dean activists who haven’t yet entirely flocked to my humble web site.
(Insolent peons! You will love me and bow down to me and flock to my site or I’ll… I’ll… um… Hold on, it’ll come to me… Ok, I’ll do nothing except bitch and moan. What else do I do anyway? :-p )
Top of the day entry
Seeing how it’s almost 10 AM I thought I would start the day off with a journal entry. I’m seeing Dr. Bartels inside 2 hours and I’m going to be talking turkey with medical stuff.
Ah, and to clarify something I said yesterday: I’ve been dealing with a story that I’ve written off-and-on the past few weeks right now. It’s going ok but I don’t know when I’ll close the story up or what I’ll do to close the story up for that matter. If I just keep going with it — and i don’t know how I can, I had one idea ironed out and I’ve gotten through that idea with 14 manuscript pages — I’ll find a closing spot… but right now as it stands it’s going to be a much more difficult thing to do for me than I would like it to be.
But that’s writing for you – it’s not always a joy… yet immersing yourself in writing and concentrating on it gives you escape from the world.
Trust in things…
Was writing today for the most part — as I was yesterday as well. Don’t feel quite up to a full entry, want to get away from the computer again…
Trust in things
beyond my doing
Faith in things
I can’t believe
That leave me yearning
And the pain they leave
In lingered silence
In the words you weave
In your sight for sore eyes
And your careless deeds…
Choices are what defines our life and is an integral part of what drives us. Other’s choices have helped define you as a human being and helped form your habits. Your own choices have defined you up until this point in life – where you are reading this journal entry on a web site you chose to go to and you will choose if you will read beyond the end of this paragraph or if you will switch to a different web site on the World Wide Web (hell, you might have already).
Some choices bring you to joy and other choices bring you regret. Other’s choices can bring you to joy, or might make you regret that you dealt with them… Or perchance they will make you want to encourage them to make a better decision, a more thoughtful choice because the particular choice they are currently using going to end up hurting them.
You could look back at a relationship and say “Hey, it’s his / her loss” over the fact they chose another course over choosing you but at the same time – you’re most likely pinning in one way or another becasue you don’t want them to lose out on you, or in general.
It’s all about choices. Sometimes it’s not your own choice that forces you to live life in solitude but the choices of others — the choices they made to be part of the in crowd and how you wouldn’t be good for their image, or the choice you made to not associate yourself with this-or-that type of person because of some quality they have about them.
You’ll chose what you have to eat tonight, and what time you’ll go to bed — stay up and watch Letterman or maybe go to bed early to get a jump start on the new day? You’ll chose whether to sit back in your chair as you read this or shift side to side, or put your feet up on your desk while you read.
Do I take the blue pill or do I swallow the red? Do I make another movie quote here about a famous choice or do I go on with my ramble?
Some choices are made by fate, or by God or by whatever higher power is overseeing our lives. Disease, famine, drought, death, life – so it goes without saying that we have only so much we can control. Sometimes we just don’t want to control, sometimes we think control is an illusion… And then sometimes you realize your choices up until this moment made control look like an illusion, and you can’t get yourself back in control.
We’re all on the edge of sanity and sobriety in our lives and the choices we make put us on either side of that edge. Steven Tyler said it best when he sang, We can tell’em no, or we can let it go… but I’d rather leave it hanging on which is just leaving things flextible and open to decision at another time… It’s a choice I once found comfort in… Yet that was a time in the past, back in the days of high school and now I find myself making decisions because there is no more care free living. Not just that but leaving things wavering — for or against? Yes or no? Do or don’t? — often makes things worse than just getting them out of the way.
I’m surrounded by choices… They chide me, are snide to me, delight me and damn me all in the matter of a moment.
Choices… For you, for me, for society, for the world… Choices.
Tour De Lance
Not much to report (well there are things but I would rather not make mention of them). I enjoyed watching the final few minutes (half hour) of the Tour De France stage 15 yesterday…
Of all championships Lance has won, this was the first I had really sat down and watched the tour because most of the time it was on at some ungodly hour….
Now I am so comfortable with the ungodly hours that I am going to watch, damnit…
Everyone knows about getting a song stuck in your head, or has suffered it at one point or another… Sitting around and suddenly the opening verse from The Facts Of Life just will not escape from your head (You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life, the facts of life….) or perchance you get a song from the radio in your head that is getting a ton of airplay but it’s gnawing at you — asking you to think about it over and over again.
Yeah, you know exactly what I mean
I’m sitting around here and I’m not having a song get stuck in my head (though me bringing up The Facts Of Life theme seems to have forced it into my head)… It’s actually a single word getting stuck in my head and pleading for attention.
I don’t get it really, I honestly don’t… You see the word once or maybe you hear it or something like that and you want to make it a part of your vocabulary — even though I have no reason to use the word at all and it just doesn’t feel right when I say it… Besmirched. Besmirched. Besmirch… BLAH! This is like me making transgression part of my vocabulary when I thought I had wronged someone royally (well, I had… She trumped me though and got even )….
I am besmirched by my word choice and feel slandered! OH THE HUMANITY!
So I’m feeling like crap – feverish even though I am not sick… I FEEL sick… Maybe I have a cold? I went to bed around midnight last night – kept waking up hot and flushed (not sweating). It’s a good thing I wasn’t sharing the bed with anyone because i would have kept them up.
In other news – I want to network mine and my parents computer and my father is being an ass – like usual – dragging his feet with indifference. The problem is his indifference is leading to him tying up the phone all the time because he’s a Net addict now.
Like Dreamers Dew
I controlled my dreaming last night / this morning. i don’t mean one or two degrees of it, I mean I totally controlled my dreaming (or so it felt like).
It’s hard for me to remember anything at this point besides certain details – Vincent Lecavalier putting salmon (dead salmon) on plants as fertilizer, him having a bigger, better house than my brother Andy who (in this dream) drafted by the Lightning. He wasn’t burying the dead fish, mind you – he was just throwing them on top of where the seeds / plants / sapplings were.
I also dreamed about the gap between myself and others physically and a voice said “Just dive in” — I was on the edge of a cliff and where I wanted to be was far below… the land then shifted and everything was high above me and I figured it’d be easier to get there in a plane….
…enter the prop plane and what seemed like Microsoft Flight Simulator
I’m in control of this plane and I’m getting the feel for it while on the runway and I start taxi-ing into position and then things got clouded (trying to understand the dream)
I know Brian Dilenge was in this dream, he and one of the actors from An Officer and a Gentlemen for that matter…
There ain’t no friggin’ way I’m going to dissect this dream apart like I have in the past so I’m just posting it in order to get it out.
No thought was put into this, I always knew it would come to this
Thought – it’s your enemy… It’s also your greatest ally because if you don’t think you end up doing things you regret or things that hurt other people… Or yourself for that matter.
What am I thinking about that happens to be my enemy? Hmm?
Politics…. Anything and everything that is rehashed propoganda from one side of the political spectrum to the other… It happened 5 years ago with Clinton and the Monica-Lewinsky and now it’s happening again with Dubya and lying in order to sell the nation on a War that is no longer popular nor seen as something that had been needed.
The Weather….. Florida’s gotten really lucky the past… oh… I don’t know… 11 years since Hurricane Andrew struck south Florida. Tampa Bay has been even more fortunate because it was never struck by a strong hurricane (well, it hasn’t been for a while) and it is seen as an area that would see the same devestation Homestead saw if a Hurricane hit us directly… That worries me a bit because, much like earthquakes, the longer the silence between events, the worse they are going to be when they finally happen.
My Health…. On my mind too much lately – literally.
The Buccaneers…. Camp’s open! May the title defense begin! Oh, and Brian Kelly? Shut the hell up and just play your fucking game, will ya? Money grubbing, greedy bastard….
24…. It’s now 8 AM on the day of the California Presidential Primaries and I’ve learned I should hate Netflix just because I won’t get episodes 9, 10, 11 and 12 for at least another day (I just watched 5-8 tonight and it floored me. What a fantastic show!)
Mica Furniture…. or “How I learned to hate my furniture and want to take a match to it.”
Writings…. It’s funny how you can get inspired and know where you are going to go on a story and then procrastinate over telling the tale. I have a “Running away” type story on my mind that I’ve typed 10 manuscript pages for but I’m procrastinating — again — over finishing it up. Maybe I need to do something with the music on my computer — bettter organize it — so I’m not as distracted any more over it while I try to write?
Der Stonegauge…. Have you had your ‘Gauge today? 😉
Ah well, thought is your enemy and thought is escaping me at this point.
It was over 365 days ago today….
You know what? It’s been a year (physically and on the calender) since I Had a jarring event in my life — very jarring in fact. Something that shook me and also sort of encouraged me becuase I played with the big boys and I stood my ground (at least for a while) until retreating.
The whole Beatle Lyrics and Album Covers fiasco.
Like the article says, I actually was sorta giddy when I got the legal threat – it was like the ultimate adoration that a fan could get… I mean, imitation and plagerism are forms of flattery… I took their complaints as flattering because www.beatlelyrics.com was the biggest and best of the fan sites that were operated on the net at the time.
Was. Past tense.
So as it’s late and I should really get to bed, I pay homage to Beatlelyrics.com and to all the fans that supported me through that fiasco.
In My Life (Lennon/McCartney)
There are places I’ll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more
*Sigh* I miss the fans. I miss the fun of maintaining that site, but alas – it’s the past. Always will be a part of me though.
So will those who helped me get through this time when things were tense.
OK, so I did it. I think I did it anyway. I had been screwing around with a design that incorporated Moveable Type on the site like what Kill the Web has, or much like what Howard Dean is using on Blog for America.
What’s the benefits of this anyway?
Well, you can just clicky on the comment link and have your comments for each individual journal entry logged instead of through a guestbook as i have been doing (the guestbook shall survive the transition). You can also click on TRACKBACK (which contains some stuff you may or may not understand) and find a link directly to one of my journal entries for personal reference… You COULD bookmark old entries but then again – their location and URL kept changing and it wasn’t a very effecient design at all. Poo on that!
SO will this catch on? I know not. I may be right back to the HTML version of entries soon enough so don’t fret if you don’t like the layout of this. AND there is this little thing where I may have the last 5 entries displayed at one time or another. You guys can comment and let me know if I should continue that habit or not.
Hearing Beyond the Door
Sometimes you never want to face up to someone’s argument when you are on the opposite side of the door of an issue when it’s full of bullshit speculation. At least that’s how I am feeling right now. I do not want to put up with someone trying to argue for an outlandish plane system in order to save Albert Whitted Airport in downtown St. Petersburg and at the same time the guy keeps sending out his opinions to me (his desires) as facts. His bending of the facts to give people the idea that they very much should support his effort.
He wants to piggy-back a space-age-plane-transit idea on the Florida amendment for High Speed Rail. An amendment that is already neglected, maligned and considered a waste due to lack of support from the government.
He’s a pilot that doesn’t want his airport (personal airport) in downtown St. Petersburg closed. He wants political support to save the airport… Yet the airport isn’t anything grand. In fact I learned to detest it when I went to the Tall Ships festival last year (and got buzzed over and over again by private planes)….
The city of St. Petersburg is losing tons of money with this airport and if they need / want to close it – so be it.
Yet my new “friend” wants not only the airport to stay open but a new “Mega Airport” to open in Florida to FURTHER support air transit.
In a state that’s already bowed to too much development and has not centralized it’s cities, air transit and complex air plans are only going to further encourage sprawl by letting distant places seem closer. That’s the last thing I want. I’d like to see city centers become just that with RAIL connections to the suburbs. Not distant suburbs several dozen-to-hundred miles away get connected by a plane-taxi like service.
It’s groovy, it’s space age, it’s a plan that everyone would have wanted for the 2000’s to be — easy travel by air — but it’s not plausible. Not now. Not in this state. Not in this ms-developed county.
I get some help after bitching about falling forward.
I turn out
the lights and I fall forward. I cover up my eyes while I am free standing and
I fall forward. I pull off my shirt and I fall forward or backward.
My leg may
not have "given out". I may have suffered a falling-forward spell.
I had another loss of balance with the lights off — I’ve dealt with them on
and off since 1997 and this time something happened that scared me — after
grabbing a hold of something and steadying myself (the doorframe to the bathroom)
I felt a jarring in my head. You see, every time I upset a benign tumor somewhere
in my body, I end up getting a bit of a jarring sensation from it. This time
it came from my head.
me off and upset me greatly because I was willing to deal with this back in
APRIL, let alone wait, and wait, and wait, and wait, and wait. My parents encouraged
me to wait with money and other things becoming a factor.
Now my back
is taking away sensation from my legs. My head gives me aches and has thrown
my balance off. My motor skills (my legs) are awkward at best. Things are deteriorating.
happened last night I sat down and I actually started sobbing to myself because
I felt walled in. If I told my parents about it they may very well do the putting
off again. "But the doctor said…" — The doctor said MONTHS ago!
MONTHS ago for Christ sake and I’m falling apart right in front of you! That’s
how it’s always felt with my family – I made a case for something with me, they
downplayed it or played ‘ignore it, maybe it will go away."
another reason why I get pissed when people put off (or when I procrastinate
and put off) — you let things sit and feaster they get worse. Not better.
I sobbed to myself I wrote my father an email (because it was something like
1:30 in the morning) before sitting down to read The Gunslinger (edited
version which wasn’t as good as the original)] telling him that we can’t keep
putting off and that something has to be done.
I got up
this morning and presto – he told me I had an MRI Wednesday at 1 (tomorrow where
I sit) and see Dr.
Bartels ont he 25th. I just wanted to say "What took you so fucking
long?" but that would have been pushing my luck. I honestly would have
dealt with this in the spring instead of letting myself rot as I’ve been forced
to. I can’t walk well, I couldn’t run for a while (and I blamed it all on the
back stuff — HA! I knew better!). I can’t stand or keep my balance and I get
headaches as well as other minor things… And yet everyone can put off because
it’s John and he bitches and whines like that.
news I edited Assignment 2 from Der
Long Ridge though I may have already mentioned that in a recent journal
entry. It comes off a bit stiff still but it’s hard to present charisma in under
1000 words. It’s also not the most flattering piece but at the same time —
it really demonstrates the perception of knowing something and wanting something
and then realizing you can’t have it even though circumstances present themselves
that give you that perception.
Futility and Film Wise
been out of touch and out of taste with my journal entries lately because of
what is becoming very futile with my Moveable Type transition. Complex coding
and greater HTML know-how is required in order to successfully use the alternate
journal (I don’t know Cascading Style Sheets and that factors in – sorry to
give the average user a bit of confusion there if they don’t know what that
is) and I’ve just thrown up my hands with even trying with it for now
I’m sitting on Monday evening and I’ve been cleaning off my desk which further
needs to be cleaned after I shuffled several of my papers and folders somewhere
else. In other words — I’ve done a very unconvincing job of cleaning even though
I claim that i have been cleaning
I got a
lot of props for my entry about Adaptation
because of the fire and emotion I showed in the entry. Well, at 2AM all you
are going to do is show fire, emotion and perhaps incoherent rambling. The latter
is what I was afraid the entry would turn into when I wrote it and in a lot
of ways – it is.
But I was
truly impressed with the movie.
a few flicks the last few days – Catch
Me If You Can (that really made my heart ache over Frank W. Abagnale
Jr having to run form the girl he was in love with because she hadn’t been strong
enough to deal with the feds), The
Animatrix, and a few others that I can’t think of right now. In fact
I’ve been keeping tabs on my
Netflix Profile and I have rated and viewed a LOT of movies over the years.
I’ve got to finish cleaning here and I’ve got to sit down and write again…
Need to keep that trend. Need to drown reality in the figment of my imagination
or I will go insane.
Adaptation (the movie this time)
I just got finished watching Adaptation and.. well… you look at the hour this was posted and you can judge me a bunch of different ways because of it.
“John’s still having problems sleeping, eh?”
“He really shouldn’t have had Pizza Hut last night, it messes up your insides.”
“I’m driving him mad, I know it… Just wait until I surprise him with the knife in the gullet! Buahahahahahah!”
Um, that last one’s kinda’ messed up, ain’t it? But it was original context and you have to give me credit for that one! Score one for the John-ster! *cha-ching*
OK, off the craziness and back onto the reality of it all… I finished watching the film Adaptation and it just struck home with me in so many ways. I mean, I totally identified with the character even though it was the screen writer himself (for the record, I know there is no Donald Kaufman)… The self doubt, the cowardice, the shyness.. And some of the phrases that were quoted from The Orchid Thief and stuff like that. It was just… Wow..
I mean you look at the fact that Charlie has a a twin brother in the movie and he (Donald) is talking about split personalities in his screenplay — that’s a ploy to have Charlie himself use multiple personalities in his character after damning multiple personalities to Donald in the movie.
I mean, I really can’t say anything else… the movie just floored me. It was funny but it was also a lesson of sorts… “You are what you love, not what loves you” is a great example of it… But also the following:
Point is, what’s so wonderful is that every one of these flowers has a specific relationship with the insect that pollinates it. There’s a certain orchid look exactly like a certain insect so the insect is drawn to this flower, its double, its soul mate, and wants nothing more than to make love to it. And after the insect flies off, spots another soul-mate flower and makes love to it, thus pollinating it. And neither the flower nor the insect will ever understand the significance of their lovemaking. I mean, how could they know that because of their little dance the world lives? But it does. By simply doing what they’re designed to do, something large and magnificent happens. In this sense they show us how to live — how the only barometer you have is your heart. How, when you spot your flower, you can’t let anything get in your way. (John Laroche said that in the movie… character played by Chris Cooper. I swear, that guy either pisses the shit out of me, annoys me or I find him just too damned likable! )
The quote itself had my mind swimming with regards to a lot of different things. The movie in general made me want to write. There were a few times where I just got up and said “I have to stop and I have to write that idea I have.” Or maybe, “I should start that story I was thinking of with this and that.”
It also made me nostalgic, remorseful, confused and lonely – yet it also made me understand how we are all alone and all feel alone in our own ways. Some deal with it a lot better than others, some hide it… Some have met someone that takes away that solitude and some are forever searching.
Find your flower, find your insect. You won’t be truly pollenated in life unless you find your match and make love to it. You will not procreate the epiphany of your being unless you find your match.
As crazy as I sound right now – I’m sure of myself, I’m just very very confused and very very tired. Though I’m longing my flower…
I didn’t get to sleep last night until… well. this morning. It must have been 5 AM when I finally conked out. Pretty shitty if I do say so myself. I woke up around nine and stayed in bed until 10…. And yet I am still going strong right now without the urge to nap? WTF is up with that shit, y0?
Today I have politics on my mind a good bit. I haven’t talked about the WMD’s or much at all about the war in general since military operations started in Iraq. Of course, EVERYONE who has ever read this journal and knows me knows that I am against the war and think it’s unjustified. Well, the administration is continuing musical-justification for the war and now is stating that 9-11 is the reason why the United States attacked Iraq.
Give me a fucking break.
To say 9-11 justified the war is to say that any time someone acts suspiciously then you have every reason to kill that person in order to protect yourself. I mean, if I am walking down the street and someone is wearing baggy pants and looks intimidating, do I have the right to shoot the bastard on site because I am afraid? No. The White House is justifying everything that it does through 9-11 and it’s saddening that people actually believe it.
At any rate, Assignment 3 for my correspondence course is in the mail and on it’s way to the Lou-one and I still have bad bad feelings about the assignment. I sent him a copy of the Times article about me from last year as well as Re Elect JF’nK (he’s a Hudson Valley Renegades fan and they have a soft spot for Joe up there). I don’t know, i just feel really odd about it.
Oooh, before I forget to add this: have any of you been having problems with pop-up ads in Windows? I don’t mean pop-up ads while you are surfing web pages… I mean static messages that appear out of no where while you are online. You will want to look at this nifty little remedy to get rid of those pesky little fuckers. Windows Messages suck ass.
Non-commital and an acquital
I want to
rant about commitment and things like that right now and people’s fear on it
because — well, there’s just some of it around from a few different people
and it’s more of the same in my humble opinion. More of the same that I’ve already
been exposed to but I hadn’t commented on…
though. I’m just not committed to the idea of going off on that one…
Assignment 3 is done for der Long Ridge. I mean I really think it’s done. It’s
not that I was toiling but as I said in previous entries to this journal – I
was avoiding (there is that wacky lack of commitment thing again! How ironic!).
Though I’m not entirely happy with the story because it seems weak and not provoking
or anything like that – just a report on living as a Bucs fan up until January
of this year (SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONS BABY!!! YAY!!!
) and that makes me sorta depressed because I really like writing stuff with
a hook or that really makes you pissed off…
should invoke emotions at times… I mean, this journal is a purging of my own
emotions most of the time (and an attempt to get me on the knack of writing
in general for the day) yet there are thoughts and ideas that have been presented
here that might make you say "Yeah, I’ve been through that before."
Or perhaps, "Damn, I can’t imagine what this guy is going through."
That’s still invoking an emotion. What I wrote and will submit to my course
was supposed to invoke more of the feeling of a fan that has suffered through
the hardships and the relation to fans across the nation and around the world
who have suffered for years… Yet it didn’t end up that way.
have to write Lou a
letter… Or more like edit the letter I already wrote to him. No biggie there,
just gotta commit to it instead of zoning out.
last note – I’m pissed off at the online pizza ordering things. They’ve dumped
all their deals and it’s making it harder for me to buy a pie online (which
I used to love to do).
I could continue to rant about my health situation or my current writing assignment but instead I wanted to bring up some old writing for the sake of just filling this entry up with something besides the same-old stuff. One thing about “Staying drunk on writing” as Bradbury didn’t say, is that sometime — you need to refill your bottle in order to get drunk again and it’s a hard thing to do.
I Want to Write Your Song
I want to write your song
Dabbling through the sounds and things
Using guitars, snare drums and strings
WIth a joyous tune that makes everyone sing…
I want to write your song
One that mirrors your personality
One that touches your fantasies
One that’s as captive as your beauty
I want to write your song
Yet the words keep coming out wrong
Why can’t I see
Is a tune that can’t be put into words?
© 2003 John P Fontana
An unobstructed view of the West
Where the fading light shows it’s wide spectrum of brilliance
Dimmed on the palette of mother night
The horizon –
Where will tomorrow lead?
Will encounters in the West will leave another impression
On this stranger?
And as we dance towards the farscape in our
I can only hope I can find peace within the fleeing light
And inspiration through my solitude.
© 2000 John P. Fontana
So I was up at an hour that
is between dawn and lunch… I couldn’t tell, it was all such a blur to me that
my "wake up" shower lasted 20 minutes with me mumbling as I scrubbed
and thinking of things and people instead of focusing on my day ahead. Actually
it was quite nice to be up at a sane hour in the morning for a change (even
though I didn’t get to sleep until midnight). I’ve been stuck in this unending
trend of getting up from 10:30 to Noon and having rather unproductive days because
Well, actually, this day
hasn’t been too productive either so don’t think everything was much better
off with me getting up at a sane hour and being able to term the start of my
day as it truly was – the morning.
SO I went to see Doc Smith
and his merry band of medical matrons who masterly manipulated and mutilated
my moxie by keeping me waiting for an hour after the time I was scheduled to
have my appointment. Of course, Dr. Cahill’s passing was most likely the cause
of things being tied up at TGH, so I’ll forgive them for this.
Unfortunately it’s a lot
harder to forgive my body for what it’s putting me through and putting my doctor
thorough, who isn’t quite certain what the cause of trouble is for me or where
to proceed. And there’s a lot of trouble for me. Even more trouble than I mentioned
to him and trouble that can’t be found on MRI images (well, at least this set
But all in all, a fight
line is being drawn. Action is going to take place soon enough. The powers are
aligning – some for me, some against. Of course, I have to battle on much as
the poem says. I’ve got too many places to go, things to see, people to do..
It’s such a demanding existence, I tell ya! :-p
I had Keith read my first
rough draft of my Non-Fiction assignment (mind you, there are 5 of them and
I was just trying harder with one) and basically he told me it was crap
Of course he also inspired a re-write that put the story more in the first person
about going through the trials and tribulations of a Bucs fan over the years
and the end result was 920+ words and a much better story. I’ve gone through
it once since I wrote it, will have to go through it again before I get up the
nerve to print this story out and send it to Lou.
Personally, I don’t want to keep doing Non-fiction, I want to learn how to become
more charismatic in my writing (as my last assignment feels cold except through
the story’s twists and turns) and keep on chugging with fiction.
The Doors are Open
I’ve been thinking of the
Doors a lot lately. I downloaded video music clips a few months ago off Kazaa
Lite and of course i have been enjoying them (even though the audio is ratty
on Light My Fire performed at the Ed Sullivan Show) to no end. Moonlight
Drive, Break on Through, Touch Me — excellent through and through.
I’ve long been a fan of Mr. Mojo Risin’s poetry and verse.
So watching the video for
Touch Me (which was performed live by the Doors on the Smothers Brothers show)
I noticed a little anomaly that featured guitarist Robbie Krieger with a nice
shiner on his left eye. Curious, I went and asked about it on the Usenet newsgroup
And was re-introduced to
anal-final-word-on-the-Doors-author Patricia Butler.
Ms. Butler wrote Angels
Dance and Angels Die which is a biographical account of Jim Morrison and
Pamela Courson (Jim’s wife). Butler, however, seems to think that what anyone
else wrote in their books is fictitious or if anyone takes something from their
books and had it put into The
Doors by Oliver Stone, it’s completely fictitious… which is bullshit.
Look, not everything written
is a factual statement or a exactly-how-it-happened account, yet when John
Hopkins and Danny Sugerman all concur on a story — I’m going to accept
that as a fact and not believe a woman who wasn’t there. I mean Hopkins wasn’t
"there" but Sugerman
was (as a kid). Densmore was the god damned drummer in the band. I am going
to believe what he says over what Patricia Butler says any
Anyway, it’s another pleasant
valley Sunday here in status-symbol land. I think I’m going to go find Mr. Green
(who’s so serene with a TV in every room) and tell him a thing or two about
living in excess and glamor.
Yesterday wasn’t one of
my better days, unfortunately. Yesterday confirmed to me that I am in deep shit
with my health and that Monday’s appointment with Doctor
Smith (you do NOT know how long I’ve been looking for a picture of him online)has
to be pressed for action with my problems. The only problem with that might
be Doctor Cahill’s passing last week and might swamp the Neurosurgeon department
But I’m telling you things
are messed up with me and yesterday proved it. I’m not showing you so much.
Showing you would just be telling you I’m having a tough time navigating around
a crowded house. Having trouble walking a distance..
Today was more confirmation
of it with more trouble walking around. This time, however, I was enjoying the
scenery and not moving around as much as I could have been. See, me and my mom
took a drive to Andy’s new place. The houses felt like they were built on top
of each other but at the same time it wasn’t as bad as it could have been with
the fact he’s got a ton of property behind the house. Also the pond that lies
behind the house is BIG. He could use a real tree in the yard though. Fortunately
I’m growing a couple of "real" trees right now and have tons of seeds
ready to be earthed
I didn’t enjoy my time at
Andy’s place (as short as it was) as much as I enjoyed where we went right after
we saw his house. We went to a little park near the Anclote river and former
power station up there and we hung out on a pier in the sun for a little while.
It was refreshing and calm for a mid summers day. Quiet and serene would be
another way to term things. I found peace on that pier before I stumbled back
to the car.
I’m still struggling to
write that non fiction or to bring myself to write it… My mind is also wandering
a bit here… Like dreamers do.
WE hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created
equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,
that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness — That to secure
these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers
from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes
destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish
it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles,
and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to
effect their Safety and Happiness.
Hats off, gents. We could
use a lot of you right now… Because the governent you have instilled has become
tyrannous and slanderous.
Happy independence day,
everyone. Today has proven to be a lack-of-independence day for myself but I’m
still alive and still kicking besides the morons around me giving me a tough
time. I just love to spite people like this
I’m not feeling great again
today, and I’m blaming it partly on the antihistamine I took last night to deal
with sinus pressure. I want to know WTF is wrong with me… And what would be
me out of my misery or giving me a cure?
Speaking of doctors, and
I really feel weird about the cure-or-kill comment because someone who worked
to cure was killed. It happens more often than people will acknowledge or can
acknowledge and it’s strange that I’m making a big deal about this… There
is a doctor who I have never met – or if I met him it was seven years ago…
His name was Dr. Cahill.
Why am I bringing him up?
Well, my leg gave out in June as my constant readers on this site will know…
We called my doctor’s office about it to report what was going on and they said
that if things get worse – go to the ER because Doctor Cahill was attending
that given night. And there’s more to it than that simple coincidence, I’ve
known him by name for years because he shares office space with Doctor Smith.
I probably have passed him in the hall after an appointment or something like
that.. I was just really surprised this happened. Also the fact that I’m going
to be there on Monday is going to be super strange. I don’t know if Doctor Smith
is going to have to carry a bigger load (taking his appointments) or what the
deal will be, I’m curious about that.
Oh, by the way, I actually
did get some of my non-fiction assignment done after my bellyaching in yesterday’s
journal entry. It’s still not complete or how I’d like it but it came out a
little better after I got into my gear writing by typing out that journal entry.
Ironic, ain’t it?
I'm Ranting on Ranting and non-fiction!
I don’t get it. I honestly don’t fucking get this.
How come an opinionated asshole like myself has written dozens of rants on topics from local roads to Dubya and had them published as letters to the editor in the newspaper, has had thousands of rants (be they sports related and or political related or music related or what) posted on message boards across the Internet, and yet I don’t feel comfortable at all writing out this non fiction assignment?!? UGH!
I mean, you do a search on Google for me + the St. Petersburg Times and the following is just some of what will show up (you’ll have to scroll down for each of these letters most of the time:
Point crossroads needs Overpass" – only one of several letter’s I’ve
written with regard to US 19
That’s just a brief glimpse of stuff I’ve ranted about. Plus those who know my journal know full well I have ranted on and on about other things and other concerns of mine in here… I already made mention of that in a recent entry into this journal.
It drives me friggin’ INSANE knowing I can write all these short quips about things that concern me but now that I have to write 1000 words on them I’m shit out of nerve to do it. Someone pinch me, someone cuddle with me and someone re-assure before smacking me and telling me to snap out of it and get with it, that this is no big thing and I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.