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Saturday, October 31st, 2009
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Well, on the bright side, nobody reads this thing anymore, so I can now get away with saying that I hate everything and everyone, and nobody will argue with me.
HA!
VICTORY!
Fuckers.
</angst>
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 2 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Sunday, December 28th, 2008
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I'm still stuck in the past, and it's eating at me a bit. I still wish I had my old bedroom, which is nothing like it was. I wish I still had my old computer, the old IRC channels I used to idle... CS 1.5 and the servers full of interesting people to talk to... A tolerance to the cold so I could leave my window wide open like I used to in the winter, and just sit and soak in the cold air...
I miss blaring Terrorgruppe and Charlie Parker off of my computer, drinking a cup of coffee, and smoking a cigarette, with the morning sun cutting into my room. I even sort of miss having the propaganda box in my room. I miss watching Cowboy Bebop and Trigun in the middle of the night. I miss "nerding out, 1800's style," which really just meant keeping a candle burning next to my keyboard so I could see it in the dark.
I miss having my walls plastered with assorted drawings and writings both of my own and of friends. I miss Camel Turkish Jades, and filtered Lucky Strikes. I miss Filipino beef stew and rice, with red and green peppers instead of yellow ones. I miss bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches. I miss when SPAM didn't give me godawful indigestion.
I miss having someone to fall asleep on the phone with, like I almost always had back then. I miss my old black BDU's and my trench coat. I miss the Daisy 617x CO2-operated pellet pistol in the holster on my tactical belt, hanging from the corner of my bed. I miss the scattered intelligence reports on the local factions all over my floor and desk. I miss lurking around the mall, successfully panhandling change for cigarettes, food, and gas.
I miss waking up, and looking forward to what the day had in store. I miss going through my day, feeling like there was a purpose for my existence. I miss curling up at night, and not feeling completely alone.
It honestly feels like everything has just gone gray. As silly as the past was, at least I felt like it mattered. Now, these things are actually important, but they don't count for shit to me. Most likely because I'm not getting any joy out of any of it- just mild improvements in comfort.
The only joy I really see comes from one particular individual, who occasionally delivers it (usually when I need it most), and I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything- not even the seeming brightness of the past. Maybe I'm just a spoiled little shit and I want it all. ^.^
I just don't remember how to make it feel like it did. I've tried. Computer, Counter-Strike, candle-light, coffee, cigarette, Die Toten Hosen, LiveJournal, IRC... Something's still missing. Probably the middle-of-the-night phone conversations... Those really made a world of difference to me. I guess that's just part of growing up. =\
Oh well. ^.^
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 2 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Friday, December 19th, 2008
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So... Last post where I said anything about anything... 10/30.
Since then...
I got a job with SupportSoft, making $13.50/hr, working from home. Then, due to circumstances beyond my control, lost it. That was fun. It was like my relationships... 3 weeks long, with all odds against me, not very fulfilling, and it all ended in tears. XD
Roughly a week later, I got a new job at Uncle Vito's N.Y. Style Pizza. It's a pretty sweet job, even if the money isn't quite what I need. The crew there is pretty badass, as is my manager, who helped me dumpster-dive a computer yesterday. I think they'll be my new friends.
Ummm... Other than that, it's really just more of the same old story, minus the presence of a lot of people.
Oh, my truck's in the shop. Apparently, it needs $600 in repairs. So, now I'm saving up for that. So much for buying Christmas presents for like... The few people I still talk to regularly. Not like it's different from any other year... I tend to get fucked over a lot right around the holidays, so I never have money to buy people stuff, or even buy materials to make people stuff.
That's really all there is to say here.
</post>
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 1 Molotov cocktail thrown. Go for it.
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Friday, November 7th, 2008
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opium. heroin. meth. gang culture. empty causes, like racially motivated movements and political battles over minor issues that hold no effect over everyday life. mass media. misinformation. at least, that's the opium of the people in my generation, in the USA. not sure about other age groups, elsewhere.
oh, and really delicious spaghetti. at least, that one got me recently.
</survey>
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? Go for it.
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Monday, November 3rd, 2008
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I am now the proud owner of a functioning 1985 Toyota pickup truck.
That's right, motherfucker.
Driving, etc.
That is all.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? Go for it.
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Thursday, October 30th, 2008
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I can't believe I'm still awake. There's a particular post/comment that I've been trying to find on this thing for fucking hours now, with no luck. All I'm finding is how outrageously fucking silly and/or lame I was. I just stare in awe at my awful lyrics, constant posting of other people's lyrics, random flipping out over shit that really didn't matter, and random flipping out over shit that I couldn't control...
I must've been out of my damned mind.
On a much better note, I may very well have a job interview sometime in the next 7-10 hours. I really shouldn't still be awake, but whatever. Anyway, yeah- that's some good shit. Income is always a plus, regardless of how much/little it might be.
I've finally severed my emotional ties with people who have shown me little reason not to do so. It's a pretty liberating feeling, even though the best parts of who I am tell me that I should never give up, and that I should always remain faithful to the people to whom I've dedicated myself in the past. I've just gotten to a point where I realize that, it's not worth the wasted time, emotion, energy, and resources to be there for people who have no desire to be there for me.
Hopefully, this has been the last string of betrayals, strange happenings, and physical ailments for a while. I need some time to recover first- I'm getting in deeper, and I don't want to lose the chances I've got at getting out of my own personal shit-hole.
I've got more to write, but you can bet your ass it's not going anywhere public.
Peace, love, and the extremely violent destruction of all who object,
-- Mike
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? Go for it.
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Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008
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So, things have been... Things. That '85 Toyota that I rambled about a few years ago is finally getting fixed, courtesy of Herr Jäger.
I've come to terms with a lot of shit lately. None of it's been really easy, but I guess that's part of it. I had a lot of underlying issues left over from everything that happened during the '04-'06 time period, but I think I'm finally ready to move on.
Let's see...
I've still got that job, doing the training thing. It's been yielding $200-$400/month, so I'm still looking for other things, but I hear tell that the pay might go up soon. Either way, I'm not sure how I feel about it, because it goes against a lot of what I believe in, and I'm technically working in direct competition with my father. As much as he and I may have fought over the years, I still feel that it's wrong for me to be doing that... But, if I can stick it out until March or April, I have a year of IT experience to put on my résumé.
I've finally started working towards learning how to cope with emotions in a constructive fashion, rather than repressing them, and I'm finding that they're actually pretty motivational if handled correctly. I'm hoping that the four years of discouragement I've been feeling is finally over. I know for the past few days, everything's gone well, but it's going to take more than that. I understand now that these things take a lot more time than I might want them to, but they're always worth it.
I'm hoping my truck is finished soon, because I'd really like to start applying for jobs. However, I don't want to land an interview that I can't get to, due to a lack of reliable transportation. I've found that doing things out of order, rather than doing them too late, has been the main cause for lost opportunities.
Well, I just took a break for a second, to look back at all of my past posts...
And, I realized something. I was fucking lame. XD
Seriously, though. Being pissed off all the time made me look pretty stupid. I used to think it was funny, but a lot of it really wasn't. It was just... lame.
That, or I've lost my sense of humor. I'm not sure, yet.
In either case, all of that shit was not good. All of that time that I thought I was just putting my emotions in the background, I was really repressing it all until it came out as anger. I mistreated a lot of people during that time, simply because I didn't know how else to handle everything.
In any case, I stink. I need a shower. Laters.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 3 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Wednesday, May 21st, 2008
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I chipped a tooth tonight. Top, right, far back molar. FAIL.
Other than that, it's been life as usual...
The girl is full of win, although I still feel really detached from most of my friends.
I have a job, and I might have a second one, soon.
I've been having a lot of trouble with the first one lately, because of the software I work with... It fucking hates me.
What's really shitty is, I can't really publicly say much more than that about my situation, even still.
Just figured a post might be good.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 3 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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lj-mood: bored
lj-music: Bad Manners - Manners Knees-Up
Things have been interesting over the past few months.
Short form is, there's a girl. There's a good job, with a lot more good job opportunities. I'll post more about it later.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 1 Molotov cocktail thrown. Go for it.
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Saturday, January 26th, 2008
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Thursday, September 6th, 2007
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Whatever my last post was... Disregard it. It all got skullfucked.
I'm back to staying with my parents, and I may have a job installing satellite dishes. $3000/month, or something like that. We'll see what happens.
Nostalgia's setting in pretty hard. I miss my black BDU's. I miss a lot of old friends. I miss night shifts at teh Waff, hating my job.
I miss sitting in my old room, upstairs, with a cup of coffee. Terrorgruppe. Cigarettes. Cool, fresh air. No rap noise vibrating from the road below. No assholes spraying Blood tags all over my neighborhood. Just me, music, caffeine, nicotine, and nostalgia.
I miss a specific individual, who I shouldn't. That's really starting to irritate me- I hate missing her. I think it's the dreams that are causing that part, though. I tend to have all these wonderful dreams about the few really good times we had, only to wake up and remember... FAILURE AND AIDS.
You know, I really spend too much time on this nostalgia feeling. I want something different. It can be the same places, and the same people, but please... For the love of all that's holy... Some different events.
I'm tired of failing. I'm tired of getting fucked over. I'm tired of getting hurt. I'd like to see my efforts go somewhere.
In other news, I've been working on my music. I have no idea who I'm going to record/play it with, but I don't care- I'll do it myself if I have to. I'd like to have someone else write some lyrics and some music, so it's not so fucking one-sided. I'd like to have someone else playing along with me. You know, one of those things... A band.
This autumn's objectives:
-- Get a job. Again.
-- Fix that damned truck.
-- Pay off debts.
-- Get band started.
-- Get back into school.
-- Save the world. *Don't fail.
-- Find somewhere to live.
-- Maybe develop a decent relationship with a girl.
-- Kill all of the Blood members in my parents' neighborhood.
Let's see if I can do all of these. I'm aiming high... But, we'll see. ^.^
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 1 Molotov cocktail thrown. Go for it.
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Monday, August 27th, 2007
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Typing this in notepad. I'll probably post it to both of my blog/journal kinda things.
Lately, I've only written for two reasons. The need to vent has been first and foremost, and political/social rants have come in at a close second. I suppose a proper account of my experiences from the past few months should be posted, for myself, and for anyone who really gives a shit.
Towards the end of April, my stomach AIDS kinda went into like... remission, I guess? I really don't know what the hell it is, because it's not GERD or anything close to it. It's some kind of digestive issue. In any case, it just kinda fell off for a while.
Shortly after my 21st birthday, I applied for a job at Gwinnett Place Mall as a security guard. I did just fine on the application, and the interview. My evaluation results were questionable, due to my misinterperetation of the wording.
Within a few days after that point, I came to see that the situation at my parents' house was becoming unstable, so I left. I went to stay with my friend, Sarah, and wait to hear from IPC. I foolishly trusted my parents to contact me if I got any important calls. Sure enough, a call came from IPC's corporate office; they wanted to speak with me directly about my results, so they could override the "Do Not Hire" status which was placed on my application. By the time I found out, it was too late. I would have to wait another 3 months before I could start that job.
After a little persuasion from Sarah, I decided to take her and her father up on their offers for a job at PortionPac. It was a really good job, I have to say. I enjoyed it. I got $9.00/hr to stack boxes. It certainly wasn't a bad deal, at all, although we weren't able to get many hours. The money from that job kept me afloat for, ironically, three months.
During that time, I managed to go through a rapid succession of failed attempts at reviving past relationships. I'm going to be honest, and I know all three of the guilty parties will read this. They're all really great people, in their own ways.
The final one is the only one for whom I hold any hard feelings. The reason has nothing to do with the failed relationship stuff. I'm not phased by any of that- I'm led on quite frequently, and it's not a surprise anymore.
She did the only thing which I can't tolerate from anyone I trust- she betrayed me, and put me in a very hostile situation. I'm sure she understands, though, that I'm doing what she always told me to do. I'm looking out for myself, because I sure as hell shouldn't trust anyone else to do it. As it is stated in Murphy's Laws of Combat, "Friendly fire isn't." Nice Bravo-Foxtrot.
Coincidentally or not, my stomach-AIDS came back around that time.
A couple of weeks after that happened, business at the factory practically came to a screeching halt. That was the end of Sarah's, Turkey's, Nick's, and my job. I recieved the news in a phone call. I went, and picked up my next-to-last paycheck, and returned to Auburn from Atlanta to pay my rent. A good friend dropped me off, expecting that I would be able to get inside. She left, and I pulled out my $25 and walked up the front steps.
That day, for the first time that I'd ever experienced it, the front door was locked. I knocked on the door, and rang the doorbell. Someone came to the door, then walked away. I felt that it was safe to assume that, for some reason or another, my company was not wanted. I wasn't sure if it was because I had missed work due to a horrid case of the Durchfall, or what. So, I set out walking.
I have to say, I probably spent more time walking that day than I ever had through any day before. First, I walked to the Chevron station up the road, and used about $5.00 of what I had to call for rides. The willing were uncapable, and the capable were unwilling. I went inside, bought a carton of cigarettes, and two bottles of Gatorade. After drinking the first bottle, I set off on foot for Lawrenceville. I sang cadences and hooligan chants until my voice was gone, and consumed that Gatorade like the shit was life itself. I know it was well over 90 degrees that day, and there's no shade on the interstate.
Out of the 10-mile walk, I travelled 9 miles before a guy from Detroit pulled over and picked me up. He happened to be heading towards Mall of Georgia, so I decided to have him drop me off there so I could try my luck at getting myself into a better position. I didn't have any luck, so I set out walking, once more, toward Casey's house. I caught a ride with some mallrat kids, and they dumped me off at the Chevron station at SR-20 and Ridge Road. Turkey met me there, and I honestly don't remember much after that. I was sunburned, and exhausted. That's right. Me. Sunburned. I hadn't slept in over 24 hours. The air conditioning in that car felt amazing, and that's all that mattered.
That day was the deciding factor in the decisions I made next- I promise, there was a reason I told that story. Upon arriving at Dale's apartment, later that evening, I realized that I would have to make a move in order to ensure my potential for future advancement. My previous residence was simply too far from... Well, everything. I didn't even know if I would be able to go back, and I only had the phone numbers I'd happened to memorize.
So, the couch surfing began. For the most part, I now live with Dale and Brad. I've been staying here since I recieved my last paycheck, near the end of July. I do feel bad, because they've helped me in every way that they could, and I have yet to give much of anything back. However, that will be changing soon. I have new job opportunities available to me. I have access to a transit system that will take me anywhere that I really need to go. The only thing that's holding me back now is a lack of money, but that interdependency of "money comes from job, job requires money" is nothing new to me. I can make it work.
As much as I may cringe at the thought of it, I may gamble away $1.75 on a trip to LaborReady today, in hopes of coming back with a good $20-$30. If I succeed, I'll do it again tomorrow. I'll do it one last time on Wednesday, and that should give me enough money for my basic necessities until I can get a regular job and a paycheck. We'll see what happens, I guess.
I've got some other options I'm considering, as well. I guess I'll write about it tonight.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 2 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Monday, August 20th, 2007
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Friday, August 10th, 2007
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Apparently, it's been 17 weeks since I've updated.
What's that, like, 4+ months?
Well, here's the story, abridged.
I went and stayed with my friend Sarah, and had a good job, working with her for a while. Fucking Dems managed to cut the military's budget, and that was one of the biggest contracts. People got laid off, I never made it past temporary status.
I then moved to Atlanta in hopes of finding work again, and have been staying with Dale. A few weeks passed, and nothing happened.
Went to Labor Ready, and applied. Walked back to Chamblee Sta. from their office, a good 2+ hours in 97 degree heat. Two days later, went to work. Set out at 0500, got there at 0600. I proceeded to stay there until 1000, then worked until 1600. By the time all was said and done, between a cheap lunch, a pack of smokes, and transit costs, I got home with $10 of the $28 I'd earned. By the time I got home, it was 1800. 13 hours out, much of it spent in blistering heat [including the 5.5 hours worked, and the walk to/from lunch], and I came home with $10.
I used the $10 to buy one more pack of smokes, and took transit back here to Gwinnett County. Applied at the Waffle House at Satellite and SR-120. I have an interview today at 1445. I probably won't make it, because nobody in my immediate family has $1.75 so I can get on the fucking bus. I'm now out of smokes, and pretty fucking angry.
And, I'm pretty sure that's where it ends.
I fucking hate all the little gangsta-posers around here that get handouts from their parents, and don't do shit with said handouts. I can't even get bus fare from mine, and I bust my ass to try and survive.
I'm about to start pulling some pretty drastic shit if nothing starts happening. I'm doing more than my part to try and get my shit together. Something or someone needs to fucking meet me at that 99%-1% point, so I can get my shit together and live a semi-normal life.
Otherwise, I'm trading my boots, braces, and jeans for loafers, a three-piece suit, and a pork-pie hat... And I'm making this shit happen through some slightly less legitimate means. I'm tired of my efforts amounting to nothing.
I did all I could. I've got nothing left. Somebody, please bail me out while it's $1.75, rather than $17,500.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 16 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Saturday, April 7th, 2007
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I have recently come to the discovery that I am, indeed, mortal.
This fucking terrifies me.
It's silly, but...
Yeah.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 2 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Tuesday, March 13th, 2007
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was FUCKING AWESOME.
Whenever Flogging Molly comes back to town, EVERYONE MUST GO.
Like, yeah. They're one of my favorite bands, so I'm going to have a bit of a bias. But, quite honestly, they put on the best show I've been to so far. This is the only time I've ever been in motion for more than an hour and a half straight. For those of you that know me well enough, that means a lot.
It was more than a show. It was the most insane party ever.
Except that short guy that looked like this dude that used to give me shit up in Jersey. I wanted to kick his ass, because he kept starting shit with people.
All in all, it's been an amazing fucking night.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 3 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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Saturday, March 10th, 2007
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| Time: | 4:51 am. |
| Mood: |  blah. | | Music: | Laurel Aitken - Call the Doctor. |
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So...
Apparently, the doctor was supposed to get my x-rays on Monday. It's now Friday. No word.
I'm not sure if it's getting better, staying the same, or getting worse. I mean, my appetite has increased to an almost healthy state again, and I've been able to risk a bit more on the food spectrum, such as beef stew. I was also able to get away with a good deal of movement without much suffering today- more so than usual. I made a short sprint to my truck, and did a lot of brisk walking, and didn't really feel any effects from it. This suggests that I'm doing better.
However, this may just be a result of taking medication. I'm not really sure.
Most of the pain/burning has subsided, although I do still feel an occasional burning at the esophageal sphincter. I'm not sure if that's because it's still healing, or what. And, obviously, I'm not asleep yet. I haven't been to bed tonight, although that may just be a result of my worry.
I just hope I don't have a Helicobacter pylori infection, or something like that. That would be a pain in the ass, since I'm allergic to penicillin-class antibiotics. However, the increasing number of similar cases I'm hearing about suggests to me that such an infection may be going around. Since I went to the doctor for this the first time, I've had at least five of my peers tell me they've had similar problems. I'm not sure if it's transmittable through saliva, but apparently, it's been found in saliva and plaque...
I dunno. Just needed to vent a bit about this. I think it's time for some more RA2. I can't really call the doctor until Monday anyway.
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 1 Molotov cocktail thrown. Go for it.
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Saturday, March 3rd, 2007
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I absolutely hate admitting this...
But, I'm honestly scared.
And I hate the fact that I feel like I'm alone through almost all of this.
For some reason, I'm angry.
I'm not angry at anyone- nobody did anything wrong.
I'm just angry.
Maybe because I don't understand.
Angry that I have to face something that terrifies me, even though it's nothing major in comparison to what others go through.
Angry that it terrifies me, and angry that I have to face it.
Angry that it's holding me down.
And, it's quite possible that this is related to the fact that I was constantly so angry before.
I don't even know.
Someone, help.
Fix it.
Make it go away.
Please?
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Wanna try a Molotov cocktail? 3 Molotov cocktails thrown. Go for it.
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![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
scharfschuetze's journal
nostalgic... duh.
bored.
irate, like a real man.
confused.
hopeful.