episode 17: i suspect that this could be one of my final entries if not the final. the year was 2020! if i go with the future i am at peace with it.

what a wild ride it's been.

well.

"dear journal"

doug voice.

an odd ride is a better description. more of a sunday afternoon stroll in a vessel cursed with disaster maybe.

i'm presently in notepad with no intention of changing this line of text but i don't know how long it's been since i last posted here.

it's been awhile.

i'm old now. i'm 33 1/2 years old and i'm sick. what's already diagnosed alone is enough to kill me.

i've slown down considerably and lost my memory. that's been going for awhile now but it really accelerated when i started smoking snoop dogg amounts of marijuana. anyhow - damn. here's what happened.

2011/2012: i moved back to lebanon briefly after living in portsmouth with dan and then moved to santa cruz. i stayed in santa cruz for only a few months but met jillian in san fran. after creative differences with my partner and roommate i moved back to the area and into an apartment with jillian. here chico is introduced to the situation, and then rosie who is still (2/5/20) luckily with me but unfortunately i don't think for long. i love her so much and i loved louis and the rest of the dogs. sophia. hunting. teven. annie.

2013: jan 1st, my stepdad bill who raised me alongside my mother since my earliest memories and was my de facto father shot and killed himself. my mother tried to bring him back while he was clearly gone. he shot himself in the heart. i think she'd broken it. it broke mine.

late 2013: jillian finally leaves my ass for some sex toy store guy i made money with her through her blog with. i hit him with a rather unfriendly uppercut in vegas a couple months later. this is when i became addicted to benzos after abusing a single bottle of them for sleep. my panic disorder became owned by benzos in late 2013.

2014: i was alone and depressed for quite some time after jillian left. that year brittany was my valentine in boston. it was actually quite nice and romantic. we were old friends. as with all things that fell apart quickly but we're solid friends again as i write this in 2020 and could absolutely still hit it. this is also the year i met barbie irl. or was that in 2015? moving on.

2015 - 2016: the best 2 years of my life are spent with the loves of my life chelsea and our dog louis. my daughter lives with us for most of one of the years. the first six months we were together were spent high 24/7 on edibles. this is also when i made the most money in my fucking life. $525K in 2 years i believe. she left me and i lost my mind. i still love her more than anyone else on earth. i am bound to that girl forever and remember as much as i can. this is also about her and was posted almost 11 years ago now https://counterproductiveliterature.blogspot.com/2009/04/episode-06-happiness-is-your-best.html and this as well https://counterproductiveliterature.blogspot.com/2009/05/epsiode-10-who-knows-how-ill-look-back.html bringing a total of 3 posts about her here in this blog i post in once every 4 to 6 years it seems. it's funny that i titled it "who knows how i'll look back on this" and can now do so having actually been together with her in real life for 2 years straight. i look back on it glad i faced my fears even though i evidently always knew it was doomed to fail.

2017: sold ethereum early and lost all my money trying to do an ico. i was also in shape this year and had more money at one time than ever before. $250k i think. i spent a lot of money and did wild shit like go to the super bowl and live like a god for a couple of years.

2017 - 2020: my maternal grandfather rod passed away in 2018. that was terrible. earlier in the year i was in douglas between england and ireland living in what were some of my final rich guy posh days. beautiful place. i left my heart there, but not with maria - my lovely tinder date. in 2018 i also i doxed and chatted w/ s@t0sh1n4k4m0t0 which was cool. this is also the year i went utterly mad. i met adri irl but it didn't work out. that bitch cia.

anyway.

heh.

a final word.

this blog is so cringe. it's so faux-poetic and terrible. some of the content is great, such as the list of old internet things. other than that.. i have no idea. i'm a bit unhinged and appear to post here mostly during times of extreme psychological turmoil and really exploit that this is a secret blog. seriously. i understand how terribly bad and painfully cringe the ridiculous pseudo-philosopher emo-man content is below. it's the worst. i've evolved over the past ~6 years since the previous entry, a redundant mess of a poem, was published. conversing with academics over the past few years has helped there. prior to that i was keeping mostly idiotic company and probably still do. 

the end.

oh to be episode seventeen again.

and on that recurring note there's a cringe prequel here https://g.livejournal.com that i used between the ages of 15 - 18 or so. that brings together a grand total of many years now. it'd be nice to live long enough to redeem myself in the art of writing. in retrospect i was off to a slow start.

4 more years!

"There aren't enough drugs in the universe to take her down" snapped Shawn to his mother Penelope, as his sister lied motionless in what seemed an increasingly inescapable coma. Penelope did her best to create a calming environment, drawing the shades to nearly a close as the desert mountains off in the distance began to vanquish the sun.

No, commence a time-lapse as the stars, nearly transparent compared to those seen in a rural area, race diagonally into the desert sky, shrouded by the city lights that can either ravage you with euphoria or decimate you to your core. There's power in those lights, innocently masquerading as lights like a wolf in sheep's clothing, duping you into blindness of the black clouds hovering above and stalking you mercilessly.

When I finally closed my eyes I heard music from a different time cascading through my white noise machine, which jolted me awake immediately and left me gasping for air. Again. God damnit, I was so close that time. I can only imagine it was 1930's swing-jazz, or the best example of it my subconscious could muster.

The same who preach tolerance will sooner strap you to a runaway horse and cast you into exile than acknowledge their hypocrisy. I didn't decide to feel this aching tingling dead numbness in my left leg. I don't decide. I'm not allowed.

episode 14: 2002, 2003

i wonder what i'd have done differently had i known it was the happiest i'd ever be.

i regret nothing, and these memories i hold helped shape me into who i am today. some for the best, others for the worst, but there is not a single moment i'd rewrite.

the fact this all took place 7 or 8 years ago seems crazy. time has slipped away from me and i have no excuses.

many of these friendships and acquantances ended over betrayal, awkward events and time itself; but i'd give anything to go back.

"ah, to be sixteen again." they say, and i understand why. beauty fades, as does the beauty of life.

spring is around the corner, or perhaps it's already here and i've slept through its arrival.

today, and if only for a day, i've decided to live again.

episode 13: not so virgin islands

he recently returned from a vacation in tropical paradise, what a lucky guy. so blessed. all is well for him. he's doing fine, don't worry about him.

lately my imagination has been running both to and from my past. i'm starting to think the only reason i embrace today is because i loathe tomorrow. since a child i've always wanted the ability to freeze time and go about my lazy existence alone. free from all responsibility, social stigma, and prying eyes.

i have such trouble falling asleep, and even more trouble mustering up the will to wake up. i haven't moved from this couch in days.

this blog is beginning to look like the diary of a suicidal maniac.

episode 12: now if only i could play acoustic guitar

you never cease to amaze me
ignoring your calls cause you're driving me crazy
not a day can go by now
i don't wonder where you are and you don't even know how
much you intrigue me
you paralyze me when you speak but i can't let you believe me
cause i'm too broken to show up
but don't ever tell yourself you have no one

episode 11: another quick year

on september 13th this blog will turn one year old. it's amazing how much can change in a year, and how fast it seems to. autumn, as mentioned nearly a year ago, is still an important season for me. the scent of a dying wilderness, chilly wind only tolerable when accompanied by a hoodie, or if you're into looking like a fag a light jacket. september and october in new england inspire such vivid memories of a simple time, a time when i was more receptive, innocent and alive. those days are gone forever, and all i can do is continue holding the memories of them dear to my heart.

here is an excerpt of the insanity i've been in bed scribbling in a notepad for the past hour:

what a confusing and unpredictable existence. if quantum physics is right about how we influence unconscious/inanimate matter by merely observing it, i would love to know why the fuck i can't seem to ever see anything coming.

but i'm a hard dude to lie to, especially when a dishonest person is physically sitting right next to me and trying to pull the wool over my eyes. i, myself, am a great liar, but have a strong moral sense to avoid doing it, and on top of that my improv skills just aren't what they used to be.

autumn is so very near. how long will i have to look back on it?

episode 10: spare me

keep your approval. spare me your praise, this false hope, this sherade. can't you see i'm lost? so destabilizing and unreliable, like nothing you could have ever imagined. the man you see is fiction, he doesn't exist. he just isn't here anymore, and sometimes i wonder if he ever was. don't sell yourself short with false hope. i will drag you down into this hole with me, fuck you, destroy you and leave you with scars that never heal.

epsiode 09: who knows how i'll look back on this

secretive
evasive
careless
lost
undefined
deserted
evil
dying

episode 08: the times

we're living in scary times. the masses are frighteningly susceptible to the power of influence, whether it come from a brainwashed parental figure at a young age, a propaganda film on the internet or the corrupt and ulterior motive driven news media. what we need to teach our children is to always ask questions and think for themselves. if we don't, whoever is center stage with a microphone will always do their thinking for them.

episode 07: stop giving a fuck

we're all insignificant beings in an infinite universe. anything you attribute value to is just to entertain yourself and avoid the despair of how pointless we are and everything around us truly is.

episode 06: happiness is your best friend, it doesn't appeal to me

another person with the potential to be my everything, a manifestation of my own despair and loneliness.

truth be told... we don't know each other. i really need to get out more.

episode 05: are you sure?

how would you truly expect me to answer such a question?
yes, of course i'm sure. everything is fine. as usual.

i live states away from my family and friends.
my mother calls me frequently, and always asks the same questions.
"are you ok?"
i always respond the same; "yes, of course."
it annoys the shit out of me, because i don't want to discuss how i'm doing.
it would just make me feel worse.
so yeah. denial please. thank you.
but, in reality
there are many days i drown myself in alcohol and question blowing my head off.
but why would i want to worry my family?
her asking me how i'm doing is useless, whether it be a gesture of kindness,
content for smalltalk or a genuine heartfelt question.

until next time.

episode 04: they call you soft-spoken when you feel obnoxious

they call you soft-spoken when you feel obnoxious.
they call you mysterious when you feel solvable.
they call you complex when you feel basic.
they call you important when you feel insignificant.
they love you when you hate them,
and you hate them when they love you.

*note i wrote this awhile ago, a friend messaged it to me and i googled it. apparently people have swiped this and thrown it onto their myspaces. awriiiightt, that makes me cool or something.

episode 03: things i miss from the internet

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episode 02: competition

don't expect to feel competitive when there is nothing to fight for.

episode 01: blindsided

this is a non-fictional tale inspired by someone who will remain anonymous, and is accompanied by a short rant about autumn.

i was young, and even younger at heart, so fragile and inexperienced, crippled in fear of rejection, incapable of taking the risks that someone seemingly alive would regularly take as if it were second nature. there i was, sixteen or seventeen. lacking audacity, courage.

there she was. naive, younger than me but much more mature at heart. glowing with life and carrying a smile so radiant it stole the entire room.

we were best friends you could say. consistently together, consistently accomplishing nothing other than killing time. and still, there i was, too naive to understand the ladder theory, to understand that it was sabotaging me. too naive to be aggressive, audacious, courageous.

now years have passed, i've morphed into someone strong. arguably emotionless and wise beyond my years. yet until history is rewritable, i will never be able to bear looking into her eyes again. the ones i used to intentionally look away from, as if to avoid losing myself in them. the same eyes that once took my breath away would now just act as a mirror, reflecting the person i was then. the person who occasionally haunts me. the person the unforgiving * autumn wind blows back into my consciousness each year. the person who was young, even younger at heart and completely blindsided by her mere being.

i must stress the fact that all of this is irrelevant to me now. i haven't cared deeply about this girl in five or six years.

with that said, it's funny how someone who seemed to mean the world to you at one point could just completely diminish in value so rapidly. perhaps it's just due to a human coping mechanism hardwired into our minds, helping us accept what we cannot change, conveniently running hand in hand with the truth that it's easy to see unrealistic value in someone you admire. sometimes when the smoke clears you realize the person you were infatuated with doesn't actually exist past the boundaries of your own imagination.

she quickly became just another air-headed face in the crowd, without noteworthy substance.

but still, i sometimes question what she would see in my eyes. the same person? the me from then, overlooking who i am present day? initial impressions reluctantly change, and individual human perception is subjective, is it not? who i am to her may never be who i am to everyone else.

* autumn is an important season to me. i never was able to appreciate its beauty until after i dropped out of high school at fifteen, directly preceding my sixteenth birthday in july. when the leaves were changing color that year, i wasn't being bombarded by the stress of heading back to school, but rather just hanging out with (and constantly performing mindless acts of delinquency with) my friends kyle, amber, jasmine, justin and a handful of others. i'd say autumn is my favorite season, and also a great reminder of myself at ages sixteen and seventeen. it was a time of simplicity, a time of growth, and is almost entirely a blur to me now. i suppose that means i must have been having some mind-altering good times.

until next time