By Nous

                       September 4, 2004


ICH LIEBE DAS LEBEN J/K

Why is it that some of the most positive statements and sentiments
are the ones that most depress me?
"We've been having fun all summer long" is a good example.  Or how
about this one. "You're not a bad person." That one got to me.
My dad and (youngest) brother were watching something on TV about
the Olympics.  My brother said, "In 2008 I'll be ... like 17.  In
2012 I might get to be in the Olympics."  Was there ever a more
sincer tongue-in-cheek statement?
I nearly inhaled my drink when I heard that. Luckily, I was only
half-listening so I only half-choked.  Then I stuffed a honeybun
into my mouth and walked away.

BY THE BY

The Olympics in 2012?  Same year as a US presidential election.
Same year that the Mayan calendar ends. The calendar that gives
the astronomical significance of every single day of the year,
predicting everything from eclipses to comets passing by.  It's
been wrong once and even then it was only off by, I believe, a
few seconds.

PHIL-OCHS-OPHY

LOL at puns, or whatever that is.
The other day before American History, Vicky approached me and
informed me that I had her friend in philosophy class. He's the
guy who never talks and has blonde hair. Also, the class is full
of people who think they are smart, which is kind of funny, but
not that much.
The teacher is talking about Socrates and "forms" and things of
that nature. Some people are asking good questions about.  That
is, questions that move us forward in the lesson plan. But other
people are like, "So then is Energy the ultimate 'form?' Cuz like
it's there to begin with and stuff."
Oh, geez.
What the fuck does that even matter at this point?
Also, Sullivan, the professor, is really fucking big. I didn't
notice it the first two class periods. But today he set up his
projector and moved it sort of in between my row and the row
next to mine, so he was standing right beside me. His arms are
enormous.
He also kept looking at me as if he expected me to comment on
what he was saying. I don't think he thinks I understand what
he's talking about.

A RAY OF LIGHT

Oh. My. God.
I have Raymond in American History. Raymond from ninth grade
World Geography with Mr. Reding. Raymond from lunch the first
semester of senior year. "I Talk To Jesus" Raymond. "I'm Drunk
On the Holy Ghost" Raymond.
That was the weirdest shit ever when he approached me after
class and followed me around.
But one thing you should know about Raymond.
He's fucking awesome.
No, he's cool though.
He was like, "So did you ever figure out what Hell is?"
We had this whole thing in lunch senior year where I would say
that Hell doesn't exist and we would debate it. He gave me his
bible so I could figure it out for myself. Didn't really change
my mind because the bible is gay.
But I was like, "Nope. Still not sure about Hell."
He said, "I guess you'll figure it out in the afterlife."
That shit was fucking mean.

FUCK THOSE DUNE COONS DUDE

After english class, around nine thirty, J-Sun stopped to get
some gas at this gas stationlol.  We go in there - I buy this
PURPLE MOUNTAIN DEW and Jazon buys cigarettes. He asks for ten
dollars worth of gas and the guy at the register is like, "ok
wutever bye." Right before Janson paid for the gas, there was
this other Indian guy who was like, "Hey, what's wrong with the
pumps? They're pumping intermittently."
Jason and I said, "Talk to the hand," and walked out.
Once outside, we realized that the Indian guy maybe had a valid
question. Just what was wrong with those pumps anyway? It gave
us like almost no gas before it stopped. It wasn't even a whole
number.
So Jason goes inside to tell the guy, and comes out saying that
he told him all he had to do was pump it. Well, I was like, fuck
that shit, dude, this nigger's about to get an ass-whoopin', nuh
whuh'm sayn?
Jason went to smoke as I waited to see if any more gas would
come out. None did.
Meanwhile, this huge guy next to us has the same problem because
apparently all the pumps are "coincidentally" fucked up now that
the money for gas is in the hands of that bitch at the register.
That guy was one of those trucker types. Fucking huge, faded
jeans and cap. All decked out like he was going to lynch some
folks.
He goes to smoke and I see him say something to Jan Zon.
I yell over to Jzn, "Do you want to get your money back?"
Because I was ready to go in there and bitch that guy out. That
kind of carnie shit pisses me off for some reason. I really
really don't like it.
These black women next to us are talking about how stupid the
whole thing is. One of them says, "He said that he 'can't open
the register.' So he can't get the money out."
What a fucking trick.
"Oops, can't open the register to give you your money back. Oh,
you want to buy something, let me just have your money and put
it in this register."
I walk over to Jason and inform him of the shit the guy's
trying to pull, and the huge guy next to Jason goes inside and,
I assume, demands that the guy return his money. He does get it
back, walks out to his car, and drives off.
Jason goes inside to wait in this line of people wanting their
money back. As people pull up to the pumps, I tell them that the
pumps aren't working. I liked doing that because obviously the
pumps work. It's just a ploy to steal people's money.
Everyone's like, "Okay, thanks," and drives off.
I don't know if that helped convince the guy to return people's
money, but I'd like to think so.
I'm sure he wanted us out of there as soon as possible, since we
were chasing away the customers.
Jason gets the money and we go back into the car. One last person
has pulled up and I tell her the pumps don't work. She's like,
"Oh, damn," but is going to leave.
The guy at the register, at this point, darts out of the store
and yells to Jason, "Did you do something, because you just
fixed it."
Fuck that bullshit lol and we drove off.
MORAL: The 'R' on my necklace stands for 'fuck those dune coons
dude.'

BECOMING AGAIN THE PAST

Waking up this morning sent me back a year.
What is this lonely place I'm waking up to? What is this silence
that surrounds me? Is it a message?
I've probably made the claim that I am the worst person of all
time before, and I'm sure you're sick of it, as you should be.
That is why I am the worst person ever.
I'm constantly astounded, though, of what a plague I am to all
who know me.
Beginning about a year to two years ago, I began to lose every
single thing that made me who I was.  I was suddenly without a
recognizable quality. I forgot who I was.
The first thing to go was patience. I could no longer wait and
wonder what it was that Life was about.
The next thing I lost was my Sight. I could no longer see what
it was that was driving us all nor where we were going.
The last thing I lost was my passion.
Losing those three things made me unrecognizable to myself.
I'm something else now, and I can't see what it is;  nor could
I understand it if I were able to see it.
Something is hiding what I am from me.
All I know is that it isn't me, and it really isn't something
I want to be. I'm not sure why I don't want to be it, But what
I do know is that it isn't quite who I am. It isn't what I am
destined for.
Ah, destiny.
I guess I watched too much Mighty Max growing up.

TRY TO HOLD ON

I'm losing it.
That scares me, because I don't feel as if I am losing it. But
I know that once I say something, it becomes true in some way.
What this means is that if I am not losing it now, I will be
losing it soon. I certainly felt a taste of that today. And I
just may feel it tonight.
These words I write are curses on myself.
Now I know.
Something doesn't want me to succeed.
It's not about survival. To survive is to be what you are till
the day you die.
Success is overcoming. Success is surpassing.
To succeed is go beyond what you are, regardless of whether or
not you die.
I am the mindless author of my life - a life dictated to me by
Ethereals and Reptiles. "My every step foretold."
I feel like I am constantly on the verge of waking up from the
spiritual stupor I've been in not only since two years ago,
but from birth. I'm scrambling about in the forest, my eyes
grey as a blind man's, searching for the way out. There's one
way and one way only. And when I find that hole out of the
darkness the light from the sun will melt away my blindness.

BECOMING: Part II

I still want what I've always wanted.
A stupid boy's dream. Everyone's dream, my mind says.
It says that I am what I've always been, and am lost. I don't
want to be a successful failure. I want to be the great no
one I was.
I hate to say that. Because it means I'm still a slave. It
means I'm still blind.
To be the Great No One I was, it means that I must hurt those
I was meant to hurt. That's all I can bring, my pessimism
says. Pain.
I must do what I was meant to do, says the Voice.
You know that phrase, "a heavy heart?"
That's what I do all that I do with.
That's what I forsake you all with.
It's there when I speak to you.
It's here now that I betray you all to become what I was
meant to become.
And I do it shouting the slogan we were taught to shout.
"I am what I am."