It's been many a moon, gang

As I sit and look around I can say for the first time in my life that I am fucking happy. Not just happy high, but the eternal satisfaction that comes when your dopamine levels are finally functioning correctly. I hit a very low-low, gang. Spent the last four years in my hometown of Hermiston, OR- something I had never planned on doing. I was trapped by circumstance, my addiction, and just the comfort of routine. Slamming pills like no one's business and just a frivolous spending lifestyle led me to a life of psychotic behavior spiraling out of control. Working at a Dairy Queen like a slave, stealing money to feed my drug habits, not really caring enough to work hard towards any goal, giving up on life and living in general; simple everyday occurrences that became a common thought in my diseased head.
Who knows what the catalyst was. It could have been the inner depression, so bad that I literally have scars on my body from where I tried "to make things better". As I look back I just realize I was so fucking high outta my mind, I was insane. Another reason could be the fact that I hadn't been with a man in four years.No kisses, no contact, no sex- would you be happy? Or it also could have been everyone's happiness shining so bright around me I just couldn't handle that shit anymore, I would get angry just looking at their faces. Who knows what made me leave. I made an inner decision one day to stop taking pills and move away, find a better life- to be happy for once. I made the plans, I was still doing drugs. I put in my two weeks notice at work, I was still doing drugs. I was still doing drugs up until the day I left.
I've been in Portland for 12 days now. I've been pill free for 12 days now. I can't describe the thoughts. I just simply cannot. To go from a piece of glass so scratched up and nicked you can't even see through, to fucking a wide open window with the sun shining so bright? Intense. Amazing. All things beautiful. I'm just so happy I was able to find the strength, the mental capacity to want to change. It took me moving to a new city, seperating myself from my mother who is the single most destructive entity in my life, and just allowing myself to feel for the first time in four years- incomprehensible. I've already got a job. I've already found this wonderful man. I've already lived more in the past 12 days then I did in the past 4 years. I'm sad for the time I have lost. I'm full of regrets and shoulda's. I'm just glad I got out alive.
I just wanna thank all my friends, the one's that are truly always there for me. I always feel so alone, my family such a destructive force upon my happiness, but that's not the case, I'm not alone- I have the biggest most wonderful family in the world. I'm so excited for this new chapter in my life and the endless possibilities it can behold. If you will it, it can happen. YOU are in charge of your own destiny, as am I, my own. You are not alone. You are beautiful and weird. You. are. loved.

"It's hard to remember we're alive for the first time. It's hard to remember we're alive for the last time."

Happy Birthday to Me. . . yesterday that is.
Here is my list of things to Focus on:
1. Getting the Fuck outta this House, I hate it here, and I can no longer take it.
2. Getting on the Schedule at Work. Not just a call in.
3. Get Car to work perfectly without it just dying for no reason.
4. Pay off-all outstanding debts. This should be complete soon... but.
5. Finding a way to entertain myself without recreational drugs.
6. Exercise. Exercise. Exercise.
7. Stop breaking the law whereas my karma will be reflected unto so.
8.

I hate my life
I hate my friends
I hate working
I hate being poor
I hate being gay
I hate having red hair
I hate being single
I hate being me
I hate not having a job
I hate my family
I could change it all
if I only wanted too.

Monday! Monday! Monday!

Hey, hey, hey.

It's the last day of February, 2011, and the wind is blowing something fierce outside. I awoke kinda early today. I've been retaining a regular sleep schedule these days, which is something a little more contemporary than I'm used too. I'm feeling better. Routines and schedules are something I'm trying to incorporate more and more of these days. Hold on, let me sip my coffee, and flick my cigarette.

Last night was the Oscars. It was soooo boring to watch- but my stomach always goes into knots the second they utter the words, ". . . and the Oscar goes too. . . " and I end up with a stupid smile on my face or some disappointing look of hate. Ha. I fucking loved Inception- and I wanted it to win everything it could. My gal pal Natalie Portman (ha, I wish) took home the shining gold man for her work in "Black Swan" a movie I fucking adore. I hated the hosts, I just feel like I could do such a better job ;) I drank like 6 beers and smoked 3 joints, but I wasn't nearly fucked up enough to handle all the singing and of course PS22's lovely jaunt at the end. I just can't take all the happiness. Too cheezy. Why do we have to pretend ? ? ?

Yep. Not much going on today. I'm just gonna be a fucking lazy bum and roam around my cage until darkness falls and I can fall asleep. I need to be more pro-active. I need to be re-active. I just hafta start being active, yo. Comfort and familiarity will be my death, so I must step outta my comfort zone and achieve, conquer, and destroy.

Awaiting to hear back from me mum. I always am waiting for that harlot to respond. Humph. Will TODAY be the day???

Eftermidaggen

What the fuck is real anymore? I can't stop thinking.
I feel so sorry for myself and all sorts of situations that IS my life.
All I want is for someone to be there for me when the tears start. And, like, is that too much to ask?

I have to pass this drug test for a job. It keeps reminding me of Eugene. I was deathly poor and I had applied at Target. I nailed the interview and was hired on the spot. It was the solution to all our monetary problems! I just had to pass this drug test. SO. The cunning fox I am I got my good dear neighbor to piss for me. I fucking took his piss, transferred it into a condom, and shoved that shit so far under my balls I could swear I had three testicles. Of course upon transferring my urine filled condom into the cup, it had grown too cold and I had to re-piss with my own piss. Of course I failed. If I didn't smoke pot I would have gotten that job and would probably still be living happily in Eugene. But I didn't. I cried so hard that night.

So. I haven't smoked in like 2 days. Someone says they will piss for me, but I keep getting flashbacks of Target and my destiny to fail.
Why do they test for marijuana?? my god. I'm not a fucking crack head or a meth addict. I can do my work perfectly fine. This fucking plant is my anti-depressant. I've been so suicidal these past days it's unreal. I'm out of my actual prescribed depression medicine because the stupid doctor only gave me 15 daily pills to last for 30 days. Yeah, because that makes PERFECT sense. I'm so chemically unbalanced, I fear I could do anything.
I lost my apartment and had to move into a place with no privacy and no privileges. I feel like I'm in jail. Again. I need support. I can't get it from anyone. I text a friend, no answer. I text another friend, no fucking answer. I would give the fucking clothes offa my back for these people, and they can't even give me a shoulder to cry on?? Where's the romance, where's the justice, where's the fucking compasion?
So I'm sitting here. With nothing to do. I tried to go to the library and check out some books. BUT you hafta to have money these days. I have no money. I have nothing. Just my thoughts. My endless swirling thoughts of doom.
The potential I posses is pathetic. I am too tired to fight the fight anymore. I was tired when I was eight years old being beaten with a belt for no fucking reason. I was tired when my parent's divorced, again. I was tired even before all the drugs.
My grandparents sent Beau money. They don't even call me. But they will send their 6 year old autistic grandchild money. That's the love that surrounds me. My family? What family? I raised myself, and I didn't do a very good job at it.
I just wanna get so fucked up I don't wake up. But I can't. I have a drug test in a couple o days. What if I fail?? even after sobering up and putting myself through all this chemical pain. How stupid will I feel then?? It would just be my luck.
I'm destined to die alone, working at some fucking Dairy Queen, thinking of ways I could have done things differently.
Who would even want to be with me? With all this shit? My chaotic mind always racing towards nihilistic upbringings. I have so much love to give. It's just not fair.
Not even my best friend Bryen gets it. He can sit there with a check for 180 bucks in his pocket for days and days and even when we have no food or nothing to do, he never exclaims, "HEY! I got an idea, let's cash my check, you and I can get some food, then we'll get a bottle and drink the night away!" Nope. He would rather sit on his computer with his imaginary life and pretend everything is all good.

I'm tired of complaining. I just needed to talk, and no one wanted to listen.

Tis been many moons bitches.

Yeah.

I quit at Fuddrucker's. Too many months too late if you ask me. I hated that place with such a passion, the final month, I didn't give a single fuck about anything. It's so sad. I was so happy to get employed there. I was trained in two states. TWO. This poor fag got to travel, via airplane, to both Arizona and Missouri, and I learned management. Tis a shame I never got to use my education to it's full potential.
A bunch of crazy shit started happening the last month. Maybe I just stopped caring. Maybe I wanted to get caught. Anyways. SHIT has been falling. and I can't wait till it hits the fan.
I got drunk one night at a party and literally, over a stupid miss-understaning, beat the shit outta my best friend. Bad. The guilt and anger I had over myself was tremendous. Am I becoming my father when I drink? I've strived for years to be everything my parent's aren't. Yet as depression creeps up towards the midnight hours, it gets harder and harder to resist.
I just want to be happy. To be happy without the use of substances. Is that too hard to ask???
I met someone. Of course he's married. They all are. Am I destined to die alone??? Whatever. He makes me feel so happy, and that's all I care about these days.
I had a job interview today. Taking care of those in need. I'm excited. Excited to earn money.

I'm going back to college. Try and stop me. I want to go to culinary school, work at a restaurant and paint art til the day I die. As long as I have someone next to me at night, I could ask for nothing better.

Had my own apartment for like 2 months. But of course. The Lund luck strikes again. Now I'm back to Bryen's parent's house. Sharing a room with my best friend, which doesn't bother me, but I miss my privacy. I miss decorating. I miss being creative.

I've been running a lot. Lifting weights. Turning my skeletal body into somesort of toned slender alien. Eh. At least I'm healthy :)

Yeah. It's fucking November.
Not only was I promoted to Manager at work, flown away to St. Louis MO for training for two and half weeks, dealt with all the insane crazy stress that came with the job, but it is now a time in place and matter that I am no longer manager.
I had an affair with a married man. Nothing penetrating mostly slurping. But still. The chaotic-ness of the situation is still something I'm trying to comprehend. Just the whole story and the whole situation is so fucked-up, it would have happened to me- and boy golly it happened hard.
The toxicicity of this town is so infectious. I am literally weeping away from the inside out- all my decisions being a malfeasance from greed and egotistical outsources. I just don't know these days.
I work and work and work and work and work and work. And I get paid once a month. I try and try to be a succesful adult. I got a car- but now it doesn't work. It's like no matter how much money I invest into becoming what is considered a "normal" adult, isn't working. I'm destined to rot in this town. I'm destined to be used by people. I just don't know these days.
Whatever. I don't wanna get sad. I just wanted to post something, since my last was in fucking JULY!!! jeez.
I literally don't know what to say to my friends anymore- I just feel like I'm not good enough to make any of them happy. I just want to be content with my life. Is that too hard to ask??

Leaf House

"ehhhhhhhhhhahhhahhhahhhhaaahhhaaahhhaaaahhhaaaahhhaaaaawaaaahaaaa"

I'm main Chef. Head Grill. I'm so very intrigued by my turn of events. Both my brother and my best friend now occupy my place of employment- queer verdad?? The confidence flowing within my veins is staggering- anxious butterflies swarming into reactions, movements, the correctness of procedures. All I needed was for work to start. To occupy this hungry bread n' hustlin head o mine.

Even with my intense loneliness, my echo of a man-less life, is slowling closing. *shrug* what's a fag to do? I love my best friends, all of them, the bitches that stay by my side. My family is not my mother, nor even my sista papa or half bro bro- my friends and inner soul is what keeps me a ticking. What about sanity you say? Fuck the calamnity that is my life, I'm done worrying- let's just laugh about it.

Let's all take a moment to laugh about life. So ridiculous this journey may seem, and it is no illusion. Work, sleep, cry, pray, work, sweat, bleed, work, sleep, eat eat eat, anger, horny, alone, work, work, death.

All I want is to be in love again. When I was in love, all bad matter and negative energy moved its sassy ass somewhere else, the inflated heart is not one to fuck with me. I have a lot of goals and dreams and wishes, I'm being proactive, but this ginger is still STUCK in time.

I miss Mitch Drinkwater with all my soul. He was the reason to rebel, the reason to try new things. He was my yang damnit, and together we laughed our way through the ridiculousness that is this life. No matter where we are, Mitch, we are always touching by underground wires, and I just wanted you to know that.

I got a puppy. Frannie is her name. Energy and Schizo are her attributes, but the love emitting from that tiny vessel is more than enough to ease this depressive hole of a heart. I love her tiny shits and how they don't smell. I love her kisses, boy does she love to give tongue the little whore. I'm so glad to have a new life companion. One that will always look up to me in admiration and love, and I can reciprocate, and all will be well.

I miss the past. I miss my friends. I'm ready to get this party started. Won't anybody come dance with me? My god, I just wanna lose myself, forget it all, and jive until the ginger frizz upon my head is nothing but a raggedy andy mop.

This is a shout out to Good Music. Good Friends. And finally fucking working. Thank you world, I appreciate your kindness. . . today at least.

Let's Make It Magical

Holy Fuck guess what? 3 days before opening at my new job- they drop this tiny bombshell on little ole Raymond- He is no longer shift manager! Jee Whiz! What luck!
I totally saw it coming. I work so hard. I try to hard. I didn't even get a chance. . .

Bryen (Harry) Harris and I are totes partying at 1-30 am. We worked late so our juices be pumping. Trying to pick out a movie to distract ourselves- possibilites??? An Alien movie sounds amazing- cept we have been watching those flics many a time over the past weeks. Alas, Harry just chose the winner- Halloween 6 with a very young, and very ridiculous, Paul Rudd. A Classic in my eyes. Ah. Nothing like gore to make you feel better about being alive!

SO. I've actually been working. Traing. Doing and learning things I gleaned in Arizona. Very redundant. Just working Cashier stuff. BUT today lucky me got picked to be switched to the grill- the very same area that made me break down and cry in Phoenix- with a smile, I accepted. So, this is going to be a very very very different job than what I was expecting. Whatever gives me money. Whatever it takes to survive.

Life here at the trailer has been very hot. It insultates heat like a very well put-together oven. My mother's constant drug use and mood swings is driving me insane. But I'm stuck. At least I'm working. At least I'm trying.

Someday Someday
this very Gay Ray
shall escape into Wednesday-
His art will wonder, his hair will swirl,
love will be desired, and his magic will pearl.
Upwards and Downwards, Sidewards and Onwards
Luck, my dear friend, haven't no forwards.
Like Freddy the Krueger, my mind is in shreds-
I have no man, no beast, to fuck up my beds.
Where is my soul? Where art thou Mind?
I've made mistakes, no regrets, nay on rewind.
I must move on. I will survive. I'm destined for greatness.
But don't worry folks, I'm still very scared shitless.

Simplification

Don't you always ponder the past and just wonder, "why did I ever do that?"

I try to hold the philosophy that I will never regret anything I ever do, enjoy my human experience for all it's worth. Yet, lately, the "shoulda's" and the "coulda's" have just been on the tip of mind. Damn. I should have stayed in school. Fuck. I shouldn't smoke pot. Holly Hell. Why do I let people use me?

I really don't know who I am anymore. Am I the same freckly, ginger haired boy that graduated valedictorian and was in all the school plays? Always animated with a smile on my face, and an eager joke ready to be lifted offa my tongue? Eh. I went off to college and met some of my bestest friends yet- people that completed the parts of soul that were missing- but they all gave up on me and are traveling down their own paths. I'm left alone, again, to experience life and do things according to what I think is right. and Lord knows I wasn't raised correctly. So we all know how that can turn out.

I always think of the past- the goods times, the bad, the in-between. "I should have done that!" or "Why didn't I just do . . ." always pop into my head months after the conflict has already met the resolution. I guess that's the great thing about being human, and thinking. Re-examining the bad parts to make you a better person, remembering the good times for a quick happy pick-me-up, or just forgetting all the boring in-between memories because they just aren't quite worth it.

I just don't know what to do these days. I'm stuck in time. Awaiting change, awaiting some fantastical miracle to come save me. I am the bearer of my own destiny, and I know I have already acted accordingly, but, fuck me Freddie, am I tired of trying. Trying and ultimately failing. Ask anyone who know's me the dearest, and they will provide just as much proof to this statement:
My life is unreal. I have the worst luck ever.

I'm always grateful for each breathe I take, I never know if it will be my last. I realize how delicate the human experience is, and I want to get to it all. I never take anything for granted. I'm such a nihilist. But to quote Kevin Barnes I'm a "Nihilist with a good imagination". I can imagine a happy perfect life. I just can't imagine me getting there. I do stupid things, I break the law all the time. It's only a matter of time and space before karma comes to collect up on me. Yet then again, there's the opposite. My life has been filled with such infectious hatred and evil, when is it my turn to be happy? to be normal?

FUCK THE NORMAL.

I'm gay. I'm a red-head. I smoke weed. I pastel really well. I love Stephen King. I love getting hurt and bruises. I'm skinny and white as hell. I'm very sarcastic. I feel too smart sometimes, even tho I'm so retarded. My parent's never raised me, my parent's are drug addicts. I feel so smart, but then again at times- so fucking naive. What's it like to have two loving parent's raise you? What's it like to have parent's with money to bail you outta your tough spots? What's it like to have your mother NOT be on probation?
I love being an actor. To escape into another character and to forget everything that is and was Raymond Lund. I think that's why I'm so good at it. I'm so readily willing to give up any truth of my existence to let another being be brought to life. Oh god, how I miss the stage!

I'm too lazy. I think I gave up years ago. My grand finale was high school- then bam! Ray discovers drugs. Eugene, OR may have been a bad call, and you can call a spade a spade, but you fucking people lied! D.A.R.E. lied! You always said drugs were bad, but you never said why! and you never said they make you feel so damn good! but that's just a bullshit statement, because in the end, it's all an illusion- drugs don't make you feel good, they fuck up your shit.

*shrug*
I want to smoke some pot so bad. I just hate everything about my situation. I hate never having any money. I hate never having any privacy. I just hate everything right now. My best friend. My mom. Myself.
I always feel like I'm waiting.
Even tho I try so hard.
I'm waiting and waiting.
for something good to happen.
do you think it ever will?
or will I be a fucking 90 year skin sack still lookin for that rainbow on a clear day?
Time will tell, and that's what pisses me off. Time. I want change, and I want it now. Fuck waiting and all it's principles. I'm a unique individual with skills to be shown, but goddamn how I fucked it all up. And that's just all I can think about these days.

Silent Rage

Silent Rage would be the title of the movie for my best friend Bryen Leslie Harris.
and what would mine be? you may ask.
...hrrrmmmmm.
we have
A. Reflections: A Dive Into Ginger Homosexuality
or
B. Annie II - Annie Harder



I just simply can't wait to put my whole life tale on papel. It will be of most great satisfaction.

SO. I've been so poor. but I've always been poor, but this time, I'm the actual one who has no money. I've been working since I was sixteen. Fun jobs, money to spend- but I ended up quitting the local Dairy Queen to early. I just couldn't handle dealing with that fast food joint after having 2 weeks of intense management training. I felt too superior, and I know I shouldn't, but I was like- How can you take this place seriously, it's a fucking DQ? For some people this is their only means of income in any way, so praise Ra for it, but it is not in any way shape or form fit for Raymond. So I just called in about an hour early before my shift and quit. Now, I don't have any paychecks to look forward too, or work to occupy the dead time that is my day. Hmph.

Buuuuut I am working at Fuddrucker's. Like, actually working. I was helping with construction which was way out of my norm, but I put forth my best effort- fuck physical labor tho- and ever since then I have been training the cashiers on the P. O. S. It feels nice to train people and to be a shift leader, because I know I can do it. I need the hours, I need the monthly paycheck- I need the power. Haha. Riiiiiiiiiight.

I have such goals. & I got my dear friend Bryen a job! In case you don't know Bryen is a complete lazy bum who hasn't ever never had a job in his whole (almost) 21 years of life- but with my sauvy skills and my gay touch I got him hired at Fuddies. Yay! I get to work with my best friend. So does that mean something bad gets to happen??? Karma, you whore, decide quickly because I have goals, o boy does this boy have dreams.

I wanna move to San Fransisco (duh fag). I wanna write novels. I wanna write my stand-up. I wanna make people laugh. I wanna be financially ok. I wanna have a man. I wanna cigarette. I want. I want. I want. I need, I need, I need. . . Holy Jesus so many things! I am in no way content with my life, the horrid tale that is my daily existence. I want a complete 180 degree turnaround, keep all the good parts, shave off all those devil hairs, and be complacent.

I called dear my friend Sarah today. No answer. I called my dear friend Amanda today- I had the best conversation, not only was I high as fuck, but I hadn't had this deep of a connection with someone in a long time. Jeepers Creepers do I miss her. The talk was therapeutic. I enjoyed it immensely.

I can ramble on some more, but that weed o'er there looks mighty tastey- and btw, I wanna cigarette.

MUSIC FOR YOUR LIFE TODAY
1. Hey- Pixies
2. The Man Who Sold the World- Bowie
3. Martha My Dear- The Beatles
4. Time to Pretend- MGMT
5. Purple Bottle- Animal Collective
6. Guess Whose Back?- Eminem
7. Karma's Payment- Modest Mouse
listen and enjoy

Repetition

What a weird bit of day. I've have been completely useless. Working. Still mass quantities of drugs tho. I've fought "party"ing for so long, I dunno, I'm just like, what the fuck these days. Nothing hardcore. Weed. Hella different pills, but nothing really extreme. My brother invited me over to his house tonight to try meth for the first time. And I was like actually contemplating it. God, talk about scary. Firstly- Raymond does not dwell on the idea of meth or meth heads- bad bad bad shit. Secondly- wtf?? When did I become this crazy drug fiend searching for that high that will just make blank the fuck out? I'm trying to score some blow real bad. I just want that high. Artificial yes, but my god, years of loneliness, a life I cannot comprehend, not being raised at all- it just adds up. . Eh. I'm so strong, but so very weak. so very weak.

I just want to have money- I'm been working for like a month now, but since I get paid monthly I won't see it till july. the 8th. some people have lives, some people need food, some people can't just have one fucking monthly paycheck. Sigh. I just breath in. And Breath out. Think ahead of plans I have. Hope. You have to hope if you wanna make it in this world, no matter how alone I feel, I always have that, "what if. . " and that keeps the razors off my arms. but don't call me crazy, I know I'm that, but I got life left in these bones and I got dreams damnit. John Lennon love dreams.

Scraping resin makes me so dirty. Smoking it makes me so high. A ten sack of weed will last a night at best. I gots no money yo. Working and working, but no money. My cell is off due to insufficient funds so its like my social life has gone on hold. Hmph. Like I've said before- I guess I'll play the waiting game. Wait wait wait.
Fuck damnit I wanted happiness. Change drenched with gumdrops.
What else can't I complain about? What other mindless thoughts should I share? My mind is ever turning, always churning. I'm a nihilistic with a good imagination. A fanatical imagination that makes me think that someday I'll have a good life. God. Don't you love thoughts? and thinking about things that will never happen? Just for that split second you see yourself there, and you forget and your happy and thats why you were born, but you blink and snap pop your back to reality.

I just feel like sleeping and just never wake up and dream forever. At least in dream you can't feel pain. Or happiness, that bleak emotion that makes everyone want to get up in the morning.


Will today be a good day??
If you look within, it will always be wonderful.
Something to think about, and something to make you glad your alive. I'm gonna go numb myself. I take so much for granted. And so do you.

Rhodopaxilius Nudus

Wow.

My life is a washing machine. Full of Tide.

Everything is upside down. I got this amazing job at the new Fuddrucker's that they are building here in Hermiston. I applied, tired of the days of making cone after cone at the local DQ. I had a wonderful interview and believe it or not, hired on the spot. Gay touch baby. Anyways that lifted my spirits in this daze of a life I live now.

My mother is so damaged. Pills. Ignorance. Denial. I worry so much. I love her so much.
I have tried everything short of abandoning her to face her demons- but damnit do I fear the worst. All the time. Yelling all the time. Mood swings that are too abundant. I mean, can't you be happy for one second? just pretend? That's what I do. I offer help. I try to get people to help. No one cares. She won't let her abusive husband go, she is living in this high mind that is all just a flight of the imagination. It's all make believe bitches. God, she Criticizes me for smoking weed. M-O-O-N that spells hypocrite! Pot over Pills any day. De Acuerdo? She has had a terrible life. I can't blame everything on her, she does try. . . not hard enough tho. She is not mature. She is not mentally an Adult. I teach her. I am the Confucius. It's her own game board, a puppet master, she can fool everyone else, but I don't buy that shit for one second. Living like she's got nothing to loose. She has so much potential, and I, her son, get to watch her slowly kill herself day by day. I wish I came first to her. I wish I came before the pills. But god damn I love her, and I'll never leave her.

I just can't.

I got this fanatical phone call one smoky day whilst I was puffing away- it was my new boss naturally. I can compose myself whilst being super stoned, so no worries. She had proclaimed that the ass. manager is no longer a part of the company, she asked if I would like to be Shift Manager, go to Arizona for 2 weeks and train. & I quote,
"HELL YES"
I mean, duh. More money. Money. That's all I need to escape this wretched town. So Raymond traveled on airplanes, which was a first. It was such a crazy experience for me. A true SOBER moment in my life, the first in three years. It was hard. I struggled. I wanted to come home the first day. I felt pathetic. I mean it's all because I want to get high. C'mon. It's not like I'm doing black tar heroin, but still.

Fuddrucker's was amazing. I had the best time. The people. The food. The learning! Oh Allah, how I love learning. You should have seen my face when they told me that I was supposed to stay for 6 weeks instead of 2. A huge surprise on my part. I'm all for working, and I was getting paid, but fuck that shit. Arizona was hot. Hot like used anus. And I'm from Oregon, and I've never there been before. My mouth was so parched, never been so thirsty in my entire life. All in All, I give Arizona a B-. The job was insightful, the people were the epitome of the Partridge Family, and the airplane rides were the highlights (grand canyon yo!). I stayed 2 very very elongated weeks. I can't wait for our store to open. It will be hell. But I will bloom.

My chemicals these days- I dunno. I take paroxotine for depression- it's working, I suppose. I'm still miserable, but then again this is Hermiston. There are no men for me. There is no culture. There is no art. I hate that. I hate it here. Everyone is white trash, and busy with farming. I don't fit in with my tight shirts and slender pants. I want to escape so badly. Run run far away- Eugene! San Fransisco! Dubai! anywhere. . . but I'm trapped. Trapped by money and my intense life of poverty. I'm lazy. I'm addicted to marijuana. I'm an amazing person. I'm so lonely. I've never felt so unloved in my entire crestfallen life. *Shrug*

Aren't we all just trying to be happy?

The last 3 years of my life have flown by. I don't remember most of it. I've had such a magical journey tho. I wouldn't change a thing, or change who I am. I would just change my situation.

At least I'll always have my best friend. Bryen Leslie Harrris. The only one who has ever truly been there for me. We celebrate our 9 year friendship-iversary this year. Amazing. Without him. I'm completely alone.

I'm going to post more. I want people to hear my life. It's too ridiculous to even imagine. But isn't that the case for everyone?

So I haven't wrote anything in awhile.

I'm living here in Hermiston. Again. Working at DQ. Again.
buuuuut. I got hired at Fuddrucker's so I should be having an amazing job, come June of course.

Chemically. I feel very balanced. Very numb, very less motivated, but must I say- a better person. I'm 21 now. I just fucking hate alchohol. I didn't do anything for the grand day- and I have yet to succumb to the drunken dance of the devil. Humph. I'm just stuck. Stuck in time, in place. Working. All the time. No money to show for it. All I do is spend my money on weed. But I'm glad. Fuck it. Fuck being sad. and stressed. I'm so tired of living, it's ridiculous. But onward I must trek- smoking gravities as I go, because that my friends, is the only way.

I'm watching Roseanne. My god. That show was my life. IS my childhood in episodic form. I love it. Season 9 does not exist, but by golly, my favorite for always.

I'll try to post more. but it doesn't really matter. It just makes me feel better.

Rift Monger

It's been forever, and then some. But what can I say? shit just keeps a happening. I finally relocated to a fabulous lower apartment on 18th, its close to campus and the mecca of college parties, so I feel more comforted by the slew of obnoxiousness that fills the night life. I don't feel depressed anymore. Yay. My chemicals have finally found balance, yang damnit, but I still feel so lonely.
Lonely.


Lonely.


. All Alone .
It fucking sucks. I just need another soul to entwine with. to capture moments with. to share breaths with. Must I suffer the fates of the turning worlds alone? I miss the past. Who doesn't tho, really? Cher puts it best, she always does, and if I could turn back time, man, there would be a whole mess of shit to fix. But that's another story. I'm just gonna keep working at Wetzel's Pretzels, daydreaming of being with my old love, my man, my Travis. But deep down I know we will never love again. Ugh. Fuck that. Fuck. that.
that's what hurts the most. trying to fight the truth. Ignore what's really going on, get high, and pretend of a life past. It's what I do best. I just need a man.

ANYONE.

work is so... messy.
Drama! I really really really despise people talking shit. But as long as people have both anus' and mouths shit is just gonna be a flying outta both ends. I'm just gonna sit back and let this snuff film commence, because no longer will I be the topic of such indiscretions!

I'm currently tired of all things; Working. People. Money. Drugs. Going to the bathroom. Time. Existing. The basics, basically.

I just had this horrifying dream- something happened, like always, but basically the gist was Travis & his loving family burned to death and I had only one last picture of him that was taken right before the fire- It kept flashing it in repetitive, somewhat metaphorical, annoyance. Symbolic, huh? A little too symbolic brain! God.... give my R.E.M. status a break!

Well fugger. I gots to go to work now. Ugh. That's all I do these days. No one ever talks to me. No one ever says they love me. No one really cares about me.
Guess what? I
Don't
Care.

raise me higher, by 25 cents actually-

"Watchin' the Wheels" is the melody for my August. I miss you John. I never knew you, but I miss you.

Going to the Flaming Lips concert in Redmond WA in like 5 days. Waaaaaaaaaaay excited. I haven't done something fun like this in such a long time- I can't even remember when. Currently I'm munching on a blueberry bagel, slathered in butter, my work attire getting rubdown of my greasy fingers. I open in about 10 minutes. Gah. At least I get off early.

Just kinda enjoying this malfeasance of still time. Everything is calm. Growing. I guess I'm excited for my future. I suppose I guess. I guess I suppose?
Work time my bitches. oh yes.

Il dit non avec la tête
Mais il dit oui avec le coeur
Il dit oui à ce qu'il aime
Il dit non au professeur
Il est debout...
On le questionne
Et tous les problèmes sont posés
Soudain le fou rire le prend
Et il efface tout
Les chiffres et les mots
Les dates et les noms
Les phrases et les pièges
Et malgré les menaces du maître
Sous les huées des enfants prodiges
Avec des craies de toutes les couleurs
Sur le tableau noir du malheur
Il dessine le visage du bonheur.

Le Cancre by Jacques Prevert (but with an accent over the first e)

I don't speak or read or write french. but I am a hopeless romantic.
this poem is neither romantic nor uplifting, but it's memory plays a deep role down in my heart.
I enjoy having days offa work. haha. DUH.
I also enjoy pretending to know french. and pretending I'm in love.
what to do, what to do, what to do with my precious time ? ? ?
Is it really that precious tho? I dunno anymore.

le petit amor. or something of the sorts.

About Time

Well. My computer got this nasty virus.
It was HELL.
A week without a computer, boredom insued naturally, but I surely did fix it (thanks Travy)- only problem is, I lost everything.
Wah. Wah. Waaaaaaaaaah.

All my pictures. My memories. My journals. My art. GAHHHH!!!!!!

anywaaaaays. It seems Raymond has indeed learned a fine lesson from this experience. Learn to back your shit up folks!!!

Hahaha. Today is going to be a good day. Travis Walker is coming to visit.
About Time.

I've been cleaning slash preparing for days! My eagerness is so overwhelming, I'm so anxious I may poop! I hope this brief, yet meaningful, meeting goes well. I've been working way too much and I could use not only the relaxation that comes with Travis Walker, but the simplicity of sitting in a moment with a friend- ah. Priceless.

I've been so lonely but liberated at the same time. I'm living the dream. Living the life. Living la vida loca. hahaha, Ricky Martin. . .

Somebody slap me- I can feel happiness a-knocking on my door.

Night Time

I sit around, and look to all my sides. I have nothing but "should have's" and "coulda's" knocking on my door. The disbelief starts at the tip of my head, where my thick ginger roots can feel the tingle of fate blowing air down my spine. It spreads like the plague, exponentially reaching my feet which are curled up inside applesauce style.
What could I have done differently?
What did I do wrong?
Life. Everything about the idea of that word gets me into a stupor of rage and fits- I don't comprehend anything anymore, I'm struggling to define my own rapture, but I just can't believe this is what it has become.
I need stability. A fresh outlook on a nihilistic approach. I wish I had someone to guide me, someone to show me the way. But I've been alone for so long now. I feel so old. Matured. Fermented.
I play the waiting game with such ease these days. I have no anger. Sit sit sit, wait wait wait. Give me a gold medal, because I have truly mastered this shit. I am just waiting for someone to rescue me. Something to alter my state of life as it is, change the foundation that I walk upon- uproot this carnivorous timeline of repetition & repetition. I am a deep sea fish without his freakish glowing ability and for some reason my boyance is off! I am floating to the surface, the light, and I am fucked. Goodbye underwater world, your darkness was comforting and numbing. To the shallow waters I'm destined to be, and perish shall I when the tide sinks low.
I am parched beyond all belief. Thirsty.
So many questions running around in my head- in schizophrenic circles, scattergories of sorts. I love how a plant can give you the willpower to live, but a silly boy is destined to break your heart. Funny how things work.
As the crow flies, as the crow flies
.