Anxiety...

So afraid
Of what?
Invisible dread
Body shaking

Nerves blazing
Brain frying


Can't think straight

But can't stop thinking

Confused and
Trapped
Feels like falling
Without moving
Screaming in silence
Desperate for relief

What can relieve?
What will calm?
Comfort?
Return normalcy?

...

Can't think straight

Can't
Stop
Thinking...

Stop thinking.

Today I Asked A Girl For Her Phone Number

She said no, and later I wrote this poem.


A moment of confidence.
A moment of confidence and quickly it is punished
by a blow from reality.
It hurts. Like it always does,
it hurts.
However,
I'll make it to the other side.
Like I always do,
I'll make it to the other side.
Just
another scar.
To go with many scars
Another scar...

Some Small Closure

At least once a year when I was young our family would pile into our tiny blue Honda civic, my parents up front and me and my two (at the time) younger brothers stuffed in back. We would set off across the scorching New Mexican desert for a 8 ½ hour trek through Texas and into Oklahoma. Our final destination was the college town of Stillwater, OK and our reason for the long and often epically hot journey was to visit my grandmother, Esther Andrews. We would all be looking out the window in those last few minutes trying to remember little a landmark that would ensure us we were getting close. Then we would make the last turn, the one we all remember and arrive at grandma’s house. By that time we were all usually cagy and tense from the car and the close quarters and ready to stretch our legs. One of us would run excitedly up to the door and Grandma Esther would come out to greet us all with a hug.

My grandmother’s hugs were something that in retrospect were quite extraordinary. She would put her arms around us with an always surprisingly strong embrace. This is something I only thought about later in life but my grandmother was a remarkably strong woman both physically and spiritually. She would always be the driving force in all our vacation activities when we came to visit. We did what grandma thought we should do and went where she thought we should go. My father and his siblings would describe her as stubborn and that was mostly true. She was more than that though. She acted with a sort of inner confidence that was rarely challenged and even less often matched. She was a smallish woman but had a hand shake that would put most young men to shame. Her hugs were always long and full of love.

I always loved visiting grandma. When I was young the reason was strictly superficial. She would, almost without fail, buy at least two boxes of Reese’s Puffs cereal. You see, we would never get Reese’s Puffs at home. They were too expensive or had too much sugar but grandma would always make sure we had some for every breakfast we ate at her house. This small thing means volumes to me now. It holds as proof my grandmother would anticipate our arrival and find a simple and perfect way to welcome us for each visit.

Later in life my reasons for loving our yearly visits changed. As I matured I realized how funny and loving she was. She was humble and outspoken and an amazing cook (especially her homemade bread which at a certain point, with a little butter, cinnamon, and sugar, replaced the Reese’s Puffs as my breakfast of choice). She was also one of the most faithful and spiritual people I have ever met. My personal beliefs about religion aside when my grandmother said she was praying for me, I knew she was and I knew it was a pure and humbling expression of love.

Grandma Esther Also gave me a chance to have one of the most amazing experiences of my life. In early 2001 I had an opportunity to go on a trip to Australia with a group of student ambassadors. The only problem was that I needed a $400 deposit to reserve my spot. A sum that our family could never have afforded at the time. I called some other family members asking for a short term loan of sorts but had no real luck. Until I called my grandmother. She said a check was on the way and not to worry about paying it back. All she requested was that I take lots of pictures and show them to her the next time I was down to visit, which I did the very next fall. She was always full of small selfless acts and occasional bursts of absolute that made her one of the most amazing people I have ever met.

In early December 2009 my father received word that my grandmother was very ill and he might want to come down to see her. He flew down a few days later and gathered with his family at my Aunt Janie’s house in Texas. She had been sick on and off for the previous year or so and this time she had made a decision that she did not want to fight any longer. My father visited with her and then flew back home to be with us for Christmas. When he returned he urged us to call and talk to her as it would likely be our last chance to speak with her. I spent days thinking about what to say to her. I just could not wrap my head around finding the last words I would ever say to someone who has meant a great deal to me. A woman that always had faith in me when no one did, my self included. I actually had such a problem that nearly a week passed. I finally decided I had to do it whether I was ready or not.

Two days before Christmas eve while I was at work. I told my boss I needed a break and I went to the back and called my aunt. She informed me that my grandmother had been in a great deal of pain and had been given a dose of morphine. She was now asleep and I would not be able to talk to her. I asked my aunt to call me as soon as she was awake. As soon as I hung up the phone I started to cry. I just knew that I had missed my chance and I was devastated. I went through the rest of the day fighting back tears and in a state of deep despair.

After work I went home and started writing the first two-thirds of this very blog as a way to settle my emotions. While I was writing I received a call from my cousin. Grandma Esther was awake and wanted to talk to me.

Her voice was weak and I could tell she was crying.

She said she loved me and I said I loved her too.

I thanked her for everything she'd done for me throughout my life.

She told me that if she had ever done anything too offend me or upset me that she was sorry.

I told her that she had never done anything but good for me and my family.

She said "I'll see you in heaven Steven, me and Grandpa will be waiting for you. Just promise me it will be a good long time before you arrive"

I said I would do my best.

We said goodbye and she gave the phone back to my cousin. He asked me what I said because she smiled during our phone call for the first time in days. A flood of tears prevented me from answering.

Two days later my family had just finished eating dinner and two my of brothers, my sister, my parents and I were driving around town looking at the lights (a tradition for us every Christmas eve). We had parked near a business in Kennewick that had an animated/musical light display. After the lights had gone trough one cycle we were just about to leave when my father’s phone rang. We all knew what that meant.

Esther Ida Christensen Andrews died just after 7:30 on December 24, the same day her husband, my grandfather Theodore Andrews had died some two and a half decades earlier. The mood in the car was very somber after that but we still followed through on our traditions as a way to draw closer as a family in a time of deep sadness.

The next day was an almost surreal experience. We did everything we had done on Christmas the same as we had the previous 22 years but we all felt a small piece was now missing. Since that Christmas I have continued to work on this blog and it has taken me two years of rewriting and tweaking and rewriting again. This is still nowhere near the tribute I would like it to be. It is very hard to find words to describe how much someone like my grandma meant to me and what it was like to lose her. Perhaps there are not even words that would ever be adequate.

I will miss my grandma Ester but her legacy lives on through the great man my father is and the great man I will strive to become.

Esther Ida Christensen Andrews

May 6, 1921-December 24, 2009

Football.

Sorry if you don't like soccer but this was so awesome I had to share it. Lamar Neagle is a Federal Way native playing for the Seattle Sounders. This was his first MLS goal and has to be the goal of the week.

Video Not For Human Minds II

Significance

Osama Bin Laden is Dead.

My first instinct is to try to find someway to be cynical or comment on our American obsession with revenge. Eye for an eye and all that.

But no.

On September 11 I was scared and uncertain as I know many others were. I cried. Not initially for the life lost but because I was truly scared. It was the first time I felt that deep a turmoil involving my own safety. The one constant of my life, the strength and invincibility of my home country seem to be collapsing before my eyes. Then I did feel an overwhelming sadness for the people who died. The pictures that I saw that entire day at school, in every class were, in a word, devastating. The pain and suffering seemed to be greater than just the individuals directly affected. It was pain and terror our young generation had never know and was not prepared for. The years that have followed have been hard and at times tragic for our country. Uncertainty and anger tinged we youth and was stuck down deep in us. After years we seemed to give up not only on finding Bin Laden but seemingly on justice itself.

Now after hearing the news that Bin Laden is indeed dead, I am happy. Not at the death of a man but at the liberation of a generation. The assassin of our innocences is dead and I say we deserve to celebrate.

My cynicism is intact but for tonight I can't help but put in aside and let a feeling of relief and triumph take it's place.

"I've never wished a man dead but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure." - Mark Twain

Passion

I love to cook.

I love everything about it. I love shopping to find ingredients, looking for new recipes, throwing out recipes all together, experimenting, testing, tasting, and trying again. I like rushing and raving and doing things fast. I like slowing down, waiting, simmering and stewing. I like it all.

And it makes me happy.

I mean really and truly happy.

And it does it better than anything else in my life. Better than my family or friends (no offense I do love you guys), better than my favorite song on a perfect day, or the smile of a million babies. When I'm cooking I am doing something that I am truly comfortable doing, something that comes naturally to me. That, in and of itself, is enough to make it my favorite thing in the world.

See, I am not good at very many things. As a matter of fact I'm not even OK at many things. I'm out of shape, bad at sports, bad at math, and a terrible writer. I have some social anxiety issues which makes me pretty bad at talking to, well, humans. I'm uncomfortable and akward in nearly 90% of my daily life.

But then there's the kitchen.

I will venture to boast that I AM GOOD AT COOKING. I'm smart at cooking. I'm even GREAT at cooking sometimes. I know it. I have it down and the things I don't know I can pick up with ease. It's in my heart and down deep.

It means so much to be that this past Thanksgiving my family went to my brothers future in-laws to eat. This meant we didn't have to cook anything. I was so upset that I insisted that I be allowed to cook a second thanksgiving meal at our house a week later. Which I did. Turkey (brined for 8 hours and roasted), mashed potatoes (both garlic rosemary and traditional plain), dressing (sausage, sage and apple), green beans (sauteed with bacon and garlic), and homemade yeast rolls (best I've ever made).

Sounds stupid right? I spent an entire paycheck on food just to have the pleasure of busting my ass for 12 hours to cook it all myself on a Sunday.

Such is my relationship with cooking, my one true passion.

What's yours?

Preparation Is Key

In the months that have past since my last post I have written then deleted nearly 30 blogs that I never posted. After each attempt I would read over it and realize that some thing was dramatically wrong with it in some way. Too whiny, too crass, too downright stupid even. So I deleted and deleted again never getting the satisfaction of publishing anything.

So get ready because hopefully over the next few days I will be letting loose nearly six months of tension, anger, humor, hate, and love. It will all certainly be...

Not For Human Minds.

disclaimer: This might all be a giant load of fucking bullshit and you won't hear from me for another six months.

The Fall

The cool air and turning leaves. I love the fall. The summer is to sweaty and the spring always reminds me of how lonely I am but the fall, the fall just feels right. I get to wear more and more clothing to cover my bulbous anatomy and not look that homeless. Somehow the fading colors and falling leaves are very comforting to me. It's as if they are saying "Even nature gets tired of being bright and cheerful".
There is something else about fall that I really look forward to as well: The Holidays. From Halloween on to New Years is my favorite time of the year. I enjoy the twisted fun of Halloween and all the pseudo pagan rituals and symbolism (and the candy obviously).
Then there is Thanksgiving, the biggest meal of the year and a cooks favorite holiday. I love the rituals of preparing food in general but especially the family related ones of Thanksgiving. We all sit down and decide who is cooking what, without needing to discuss what will be served. It's all so traditional and planned out and a good break from half-ass non-conformist type life.
Then there's Christmas. If you don't like Christmas then I'm sorry your family hates you/are dead. Mine don't/aren't so I love it. It's the one time of the year it's safe to care about frivolous things and express how much you care for those around you. If only it didn't have to be only once a year.

Location:George Washington Way,Richland,United States

Video Not For Human Minds

Bought a new webcam and decided to add an new element to my blog! If I ever start posting on a regular basis (fingers crossed) I will include one video each month (if people seem to like it that is.) Here's the first, behold!

Move Around To Play Video Games? Fuck Right Off!

Years ago when Nintendo announced they were going to be releasing a new console I was very fucking thrilled. Why not? The consoles that introduced me to video games and played a major part in how I developed as child were all made by Nintendo. So many memories and all of them good. No other corporation could claim nearly such lofty status. Then I heard it would be called The Wii or wee. I sort of chuckled it off like most fan boys with the inescapable "I'm gonna play with my Wii so Hard. BAhahahahah!" Then I heard about the controller and saw videos of people waving them about like fucking magic wands. Still I could not think an ill thought of my beloved Nintendo. Finally it was released and I had a chance to play it for the first time at a buddies house. We played Wii Sports (as if anyone played any other Wii games that first few months). Started with golf and then bowling and went on playing each one after the other. My first thoughts were "This is great" and 'Wow, motion controls are the shit.' But after a short time I realized that something very bad was actually occurring here. By the time we got to boxing I had come to the conclusion that Nintendo may have just halted a two and a half decades of innovation and forward momentum in gaming and made the console equivalent of a family board game. There I was in the living room of a small white family who had never owned a gaming system, whose kids were fit and played sports, the average american family you might say, and they were all eating the shit up. The mainstream was coming and with it the homogenization (further homogenization in some peoples minds) of the video game industry.

Fast forward to this year and both Xbox (my new goto console) and Playstation announce their own version of "motion controllers" for "casual gamers", Kinetic and Move respectively. Fuck. After the Wii tragedy I dismissed Nintendo (ecxept for one or two remakes that sucked and The DS) saying "Let them make games for the average mouth breathing idiots (and kids) I have my Xbox to do some serious and mature gaming. However, now I get that same feeling from the living room. The coming storm. But now it's coming for ALL gamers and ALL consoles. (PC gamers shut your nerd mouths)

Okay, do I think Kinetic and Move are goin to murder Xbox and PlayStation like the Wii murdered Nintendo? No. What I fear is they are goin to be successful because of thier appeal (mouth breathers) and that in turn the game industry will start to focus more attention on making lots of causual games and leaving the serious game makers with a smaller share of both the market and the budgets. Then the only games that will be made for adults will be shitty frat boy games (Call Of Duty 8: Modern War Of 1812?) and idiot proof Japanese style games (Final Fantasy 22: Press a for 60 hours while techno plays and you win.)

Anyway here's hoping Kinetic and Move fail and games are left to us unattractive socially awkward types with very dexterous fingers.

(Hear that ladies? Dexterous fingers.)

Random-itude

There have been some things of my mind lately. Here are a few...

Video Games

I like them and don't give a fuck what a chin-less jackass, who has never played one, has to say about them not being art. Fuck off back to movie land if you want me to give a shit what you say Ebert! (because I DO care what a chin-less jackass has to say about movies)

Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

I like it too, for three main reasons: I love Meso-American culture. I find any depiction of it interesting and the legend of the crystal skulls even more so. I think Harrison Ford is the greatest actor in all nerd history. Han Solo? Deckard? Indy? Enough said. I went in to watching it knowing exactly what to expect. Yes it's has ridiculous moments and situations but so did all the others. Are aliens more far fetched than the power of god melting nazis? I think not.

Twitter

Is officially the best way to find out that the people who make the things you love are, in fact, douche bags or assholes. Ex: Kevin Smith, Olivia Munn, and Brian Lee O'malley.

Check Writing

At my job we have a policy that states if a purchase is over twenty dollars we can not take a check for it. Every time I see someone pull out a check book I tell them our policy but something else happens. I get pissed off, on the inside. Who has a damn check book nowadays? For fucks sake get a debit card! Even worst is when I see someone pull out the check book and tell them the bad news and then they pull out a debit card! WTF?! Just use that all the time fucker! Now if it were just little old ladies doing it I would be much more understanding but most of the time it's some uppity middle aged person who should know better. Seriously can we just eliminate checks already? At least in retail situations?

Magnets

How do they work?

Juggalos

Are they really that stupid?

(yes)

Gogol Bordello

These guys are awesome. Their new album Trans-Continental Hustle is a huge step forward for them. Musically they have really refined things and added even more international influence to their sound. I would describe this album as gypsy punk rock with splashes of Spanish guitar and even jazz and blues mixed about. Check it out! Only 7.99 on iTunes

"We gonna build a new globalizer

Without pantzerfaust or a shmiser

And may the sound of our contaminated beat

Sweep all the Nazi purists off their feet"

Fucking Comic Book Movies!

If you didn't guess by the title this one is about comics and movies and when the two collide. Before I get into it though I want to give you a short timeline of my comic book fandom. This should allow you to take the rest with an appropriate grain of salt.

1993: Was given a box of old Marvel and DC comics by my uncle and read them all (mostly shite).

1994: Started to buy shitty 50 cent comics at the Quick Stop Mart by my house.

1995: Discovered Spawn, a comic my mother hated and did everything to keep me from (i was 8) and one I loved and started to collect.

1995-2003 Kept reading comics and Collecting Spawn.

2004: Decided comic were for kids and lamers and Sold my Complete Spawn collection (including #1-6 in pristine condition) to help pay for my first car (a shitty red Ford Escort).

2007: Met one Mr. Ryan Jones and read my first couple of comics in 3 years.

2008: Kept reading comics occasionally liking them but feeling like I should not

2009: I came out of the "Nerd Closet" started reading like crazy and trying to catch up on a lot of lost years.

2010: I proudly buy comics every week and love to talk about them and try to convert people who don't read them.

Now,

FUCKING COMIC BOOK MOVIES!

Over the past 10 years the movie industry has seemed to have a huge boner for comics. Each summer at least one or two of the most highly anticipated and highest grossing movies of the year are straight from their pages. Spiderman 1 & 2 and The Dark Knight even managed to be in the top ten highest grossing movies since 2000. But why?

Don't ask a comic book nerd I can tell you that. By in large there are few, if any comic book movies that are universally accepted as good by "true comic fans". This may be in part because fans of comics are the most ravenous and steadfastly loyal fans there are in the world. When they like something they LOVE it. They memorize every nuance and detail. They buy the shirts, the toys, the posters and the trades (for those who don't know a "trade" refers to a trade paperback version of a book that compiles the single issue comics).

These fans can be some of the best and the worst fans in the world . They will support you for years and make you very rich (sort of, I mean we're talking about comics) But on the other hand if you mess with that thing they love, no fans hate more passionately then comic book fans either. A simply change of artist or character decision (say you decide Thor has 40 fucking hammers now. Am I right Jones?) This can insight true and undying rage.

This brings me to comic book movies. The major issue all filmmakers run into when they are deciding what to do with the juicey new comic licence they just picked up is (I'm guessing) finding how to go about making a movie that the general public will eat up and love but that will not piss off too many nerds. This is IMPOSSIBLE. You see, by in large, the things that make comics appealing to their fans are things that also set them apart from mainstream consumption. Whether through ideas or content comics express themselfs in a unique way that rarely can be transfered to another medium.

Another problem is that comics ARE books and because of that fact a huge amount of the what a person gets from them comes from how an individual interprets them. Whether it is as simple as how a character sounds (Batman?) or the intended tone, a book is often much more open for individual experiences than a film.

The final problem with comic book movies is even if someone makes a perfect interpretation of a fans favorite comic, down to every last detail, they will have already seen it.

Oh shit! I almost forgot here's my lame-ass video review of Kickass

Multi-Blog

So I have been trying to write a blog for a while now. First I had writers block issues and then I was sick. Now I sit down to write and I still can't decide what to write about. In light of that I have concluded that this blog will be composed of a few mini blogs all with different subjects. Enjoy or whatever.

The New Rebel

It been happening over the past few years. All over the world what was once considered edgy and cool is being co-opted by the mainstream. The things that set true independent thinkers and revolutionaries apart can now be seen on MTV or even worst, Disney channel. I'm talking about things like tattoos and piercings, thrift store clothes, even things like punk rock are being reduce to a fine gray powder for the whole idiotic world to snort. How is a person supposed to set them selfs apart without risking becoming the new poster child for mediocrity? Even the "nerd culture" is being somewhat invaded by the mainstream. Suddenly the people who used to beat me up are calling them selfs nerds and talking about how the used to play NES all the time. No you fucking did not!! You threw my back pack in the ditch everyday and then I went home crying and my mom let me play video games to cheer me up while you went to football practice.

Anyway my point here is this (I think) Having tattoos and piercings no longer makes you a rebel and being good at Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 or Halo does not make you a "nerd".

Red Dead Redemption

This game looks FUCKING awesome. Like some kinda Grand Theft Auto in the old west. I'll be in line at midnight on May 18 for sure. For more videos check out the Rockstar Games Offical Site

My Brazilian Adventure

I tried to write a short story with that title a few weeks ago but found my own writing boring (more boring then usual?). Basically it was meant to chronicle my fictional trip to the amazon in which I was killed my head hunters. It Sucked. The whole story basicly boiled down to one statement: "Never hire a cheap river guide". Fuck I suck sometimes....(always?)

I Would Punch A 12 Year Old If No One Was Looking

Seriously. There are so many little teenagers that come into the Octopus' Garden and walk around like they're hot shit (and then steal things). They always act like I just kicked their dog whenever I ask if I can help them find anything. Then later (after they have giggled at some fart joke or something) they come up and ask "Where's the rasta bracelets?" or "Do you guys sell Bob Marley stuff?" First off, little assholes, you had your chance to procure my help and refused it and secondly what the fuck go you want with Rasta and Bob Marley "stuff"? Most of you tiny clowns have no idea why Bob Marley is famous let alone what Rasta even is. So please fuck off or I will punch you.

My Next Post

Since I had some trouble finding something to write about last time I decided to get my readers involved and let you guys help me decide what to write my next blog about. Below are a few ideas. If you have some different (better) ideas let me know via Twitter @CameraManSteve or via my new Facebook Page

Last I Remember

Last i remeber i lay in bed

doctors surround me

shaking heads

clipboards reviewed

familiar eyes filled with

tears

then darkness

deep and comforting

sensations fading

experience fails

nothing takes hold

does not let go

my eyes open as

if they have never before

the world

view is blurry

in every way

where am i?

what has happened?

muscles contract

bones crack

i move without

a choice not to

my body lurches forward

i have no sense of the ground

or my feet touching it

my walk is cumbersome

i try to correct it

but have not the control

my body acts

compelled

by some force

unseen

i try to speak

still nothing

the words are trapped

in me

whatever form i am

and they echo there

i see from

what wereonce

MY eyes

others

people or souls

i am not

sure as to which

they wander as

my body does

Hell?

is this my fate?

do the damned

become confined

in their bodies

to roam eternally

trapped in evil thoughts

Then there are

more still

they run

mouths agape

to me

soundless

screaming faces

are some punished

more harshly?

The others seem to pursuit

These silent screamers

as does my shell

my former temple

lumbering ever closer

i see one fall

and struggle to

regain feet

i approach

surrounded by

the other damned roamers

we descend

my world seems

to vibrate

my body lunges

my former hand grabs

at any thing it can

i only watch and try to resist

alas there is

no resistance

I watch as my proxy

rips flesh

blood flows

i feel nothing

no bloody warmth

no tactile sensations

what once was me

destroys

ravages

murders

then as my empty screams

echo to haunt only me

i eat

flesh and blood

without taste

without reason

surrounded by red

the vibrations calm

i am left in my hell

limping and lumbering

once more

onward

To Whom It May Concern

Dear Strangers,

How are you? I don't really care actually. I'm just writing to tell you that I would prefer that you never, ever, have huge cell phone argument near me in public. That is both annoying and inappropriate. If I cared that you and your boyfriend are having a fight about him going to jail and never being there for you I would probably just kill myself. Seriously what makes you think that you can start yelling all matter of idiotic shit into your phone in the middle of a store and then expect no one to look at you. You obviously have made a lot of poor life decisions and have no social tact at all but please do not slam your stupid into my head by force. Next time you are in the middle of a store or restaurant and you get a call from that meth riddled, herpes infested, jerk off boyfriend, maybe just let it go.

Sincerely,

Steven

PS: I hate you.

A Word About Dungeons And Dragons

Last summer I started to play Dungeons and Dragons (DnD). I had seen it played and heard about how fun it was but had no real understanding of how to play or what precisely what it was. I bought a Players Handbook (PHB), a set of Role Playing Game (RPG) dice, and made my first character. An Eladrin (think super Elf) Paladin (think religious warrior and healer). The next week we had our first game. The DM (my buddy Ryan) was running the game. We took our characters into his world and never lokked back. After the game, I knew I was throughly hooked. The game basically involves a group of friends and a fantasy story that you all sort of write throughout the game. Something that I, as a budding writer loved, I had so much fun that first game that is was all I could think of for the next week, until we played again as matter of fact.

Now anyone who has never played or has played with assholes can not understand how those of us who love the game feel. It can confusing to the uninitiated and that alone is enough to steer some people away. Then there's the "nerd stigma" attached to the game that even keeps the majority of people away. Even some real geeky types. I was there. I understand.

But that all changed last July when I came out of the nerd closet.

I decided to embrace the things that I always secretly liked.

Comics.

Action Figures.

Toys.

And, with some coaxing from my friends Ryan, Beefy and, Logan, DnD.

You see I finally realized that I didn't have to put up some facade and hide away things I like that others think are uncool. I have never been "cool". As a kid I had glasses and liked to read, never played sports and got my ass kicked frequently by bullies.

Oh by the way...

FUCK YOU COREY HILL YOU FUCKING JOCK-STRAP-ASS-CLOWNING-SHIT-FUCK-ASS-BITCH.

Sorry.

Anyway I have embraced the things that made me different as a child. The things that i was naturally drawn to. I have decided that if something make me happy, why not do it. No matter what it is. right now i'm running my own DnD game. That makes me the Dungeon Master or DM.

Quite frankly I've never been happier.

PS: Eat a fat dick Corey.

I might be psychic

Now I don't mean Miss Cleo psychic or Medium psychic. I have no yearning to make money from my powers nor do I want to talk to dead people to solve murders. I also don't thing I'm that kind of psychic. I don't talk to dead people or hear thoughts or feel that any of that shit is real. I can't feel any presences or "psychic feelings. I also can't make shit happen with my mind.

I know what your thinking "So how are you psychic then, fatty?"

First off, fuck you.

Secondly, I have a tendency to constantly worry about the future. I can rarely live in the moment. My mind is continually processing the possibilities that may or may not be about to happen. I can't help but running over and over the consequences of any actions mine or others, big or small.

This occasionally leads to a situation where I think about something that then ends up happening. It's a little unnerving when I'm really really accurate. For example last week at work I was doing inventory and thinking/worrying. I thought that it would really suck if someone came in and wanted to return something that they bought eith a gift card. I would have no idea how to do that. They would probably be some stupid hot girl with a shirt that didn't fit and who would make me incredibly nervous while I tried to figure out what the hell to do.

The very next person to come in was a young woman carrying a black bag. She was 19 or 20 and stunning. She had a tie-dyed shirt that she bought with a gift card and wanted to return it.

Now I don't think this is actually some super natural power and I can see the future. That is stupid as fuck. More likely it's just a product of a active imagination and a slightly paranoid personality. Slightly relative to totally bat-shit crazy that is.

Fuck. Shit. Sigh. Hell yes.

I recently decided that I really needed to quit my job. I spent a few days getting up the courage to tell my bosses that I felt it time to move on. After doing so I realized the only thing that was stopping me from going now was myself.

Fuck.

There are only 2 things in the world I dislike more than my job right now, The Twilight movies/books and looking for another damn job. You see job hunting brings to light that which I try to keep under wraps deep in my "uncomfortable thought" part of the brain. You know down there with "What happens when I die?" and every memory involving going into a mens locker room.

The question that comes to me during job hunting is one that tends to screw with my head big time: What is it that I want to do with my life?

Shit.

That is a question that if i am actually asked by another person I might respond with "Write and direct movies" or "become a filmmaker" But when I think harder on it I ask myself why do I want to do these things. Is there some story need I to tell? Do i simply need to feel like I'm being heard? Does it have to do with the fact that during childhood I live in such secluded self induced isolation that I created a personality that can only see the world through the eyes of cinema?

*Sigh*

I really don't know. What's worst is these sort of thought tend to make me question if that is truly what I want to do and again I don't know. I do know that I have trouble communicating my feelings and thoughts through face to face interactions. I would much rather write a tweet text, blog, or short story. I would rather have a character tell my life story in a movie than tell someone myself.

Insecurity?

Hell yes.

The fact that I am at once confident in who I am but have no idea who I want to be is a great source of anxiety in life. I often wonder if this is a universal human problem. It ties in to a fear of what's to come. The future whether it's the prospect of a new job or prospect of trying to find your identity will alway be frightening.

But for now I need to focus and remember that perhaps I can get a new job without the untold emotional trauma of answering lifes most difficult questions.

Here's hoping.

Sex Toy Inequality

Last night I went to Castle to visit my friend Jones. While there he proceeded to show me a plethora of sex toys and sex related memorabilia. There were anal beads, butt plugs, pussy pumps, cock rings, nipple clamps, and all sizes and shapes of dildos. Also a small (relatively) selection of "Male Masturbatory Aids"/"Pocket Pussies" or, as Jones calls them, "Life Partners" (If you don't laugh at that you're a twat). The variety of these devices is impressive at first but when one thinks about it (like perhaps only I would) the ratio of male sex toys to female sex toys is very lopsided. There are at least 4 times as many toys for straight women as there are for straight men. Now this brings up the fact that there is a much greater stigma towards men who use objects to get off then there is toward women who do.

Why?

Either way it's "unnatural" and uncouth". The bottom line is you, as a human, are fucking something not human. It is that simple. It is a device who's sole purpose is to go into something or have something go into it until someone cums. Whether the person is man or woman should have no weight in this discussion. Right?

Another bottom line is that I kind of want a "Male Masturbatory Aid" but I can't seem to get over the mental block that says it's wrong. I might make it a new years resolution to get one. Just for the simple fact that it would force me to get out of a comfort zone and do something crazy.

Also I can fuck it.

Is that so wrong?

Also I may already have one...

^STEVE^