old fashioned

I Remember when there were times when i wasn't an asshole. when i wasn't broken. when i felt comfortable. but its been so long than i am no longer comfortable being comfortable. i need to not know what will happen next. i need to things to be un planned. unorganized. un-assessed. otherwise I'm just bored. 


Today, Yesterday tomorrow ill have the same experiences. brushing my teeth. drinking water. breathing. but the one thing that is and always will be, is the fact that with every day that passes, you are given an opportunity to experience something new. 


its not my fault that i want to experience everything. 


... 


whether I'm successful or not. 


-----------------


There are a lot of things going on in my life right now. like my dad having a serious surgery on his foot. like my sister getting a new job as a flight nurse on an emergency helicopter. like me getting out of the marine corps. but the biggest thing for me personally is getting over a failed relationship. which is hard for me because its already over, has been for a year, but i don't want to get over it. 


but thats what life is. getting over things. 


the most difficult thing about it is the fact that i don't want to get over her. so any girl that i would be interested in, if i were in a single mindset, i automatically compare, contrast, and try to fit her to a mold that i think i want. when really, i know what i want can't be molded. 


another thing that makes things hard is the fact that i am a recluse, and i am finally realizing the fact that recluses have few friends. i also feel an overwhelming sense of depression. but not in the sense of cut my self, boohoo depression. just the general feeling of not wanting to do anything. and constantly being unhappy. and i experience this in an almost, out of body fashion. like, i watch myself be unhappy. 


... fortunately, the friends i do have don't care. they take me however i am and try to let me in their lives. or at least find me a dance floor. 


Recently one of my friends got married. to his other half. and selfishly, like always, it made me realize something about myself. the simple fact that i want what he has. to have somebody. but in the past three years I've only soberly opened up to one person. 


ill probably need to work on that. 


but things are well. not horrible. but not great. 


-----------------------


But, i need to vent. one thing that has been on my mind of late is alcohol consumption. where it has come from. what role it plays in modern society. and how i abuse it to get a sick kind of enjoyment, from what people expect my reaction should be to 'you drank too much last night.'  


its like they think i drink not knowing that I'm drinking to get drunk. i remember my first beer. so me having ten in an hour should let you know I'm not there to socialize. which brings me to a point. alcohol is a crutch. if alcohol didn't exist, what would anybody do? the most hardcore extreme orthodox christian family would end up looking like a rock band because without alcohol no one is willing to just be themselves, forget their self conscious tendencies and just have fun. and i say that hypocritically, but its the truth. without alcohol there would be no happy hour, there would be no 'lets meet for drinks', there would no chug! chug! chug! 


face it, if you drink, and are a part of modern society, your already an alcoholic. there would be a massive gap in society and everyones lives if they just stopped drinking. we use alcohol like meth heads get high. we do it just to feel like ourselves, or have fun. when really we could do that without alcohol. but with the millions of bars, clubs, and every other popular social functions, alcohol will always hold up people who would otherwise fall all over themselves when put in a club arena with out being inebriated. 


but there is one thing alcohol will always be good for, it helps make white men good dancers.
and everything becomes a whole lot easy to laugh at. 




... cheers.  

I hitch
i hike
i breakdown
everything
into a simple ride
nothing less
than
a thumb in the air
like a reverse taxi
looking to siphen
my way to
anywhere
 just looking
through the bottom
of a glass bottle
opening up to
a nothing
looking
everything

but thats it
to the stop
sign and beyond
to the dead end
and a uturn
to the thing that lets
you be you
and me
be everything
expected
except me

Meop

I don't know where i went wrong
but everyday seems to get worse
i grow farther from reality
and yet i seem to feel more alive


i just seem to get louder
to myself
i drown out everything 
except for what i want 
which makes me into 
something i don't 
know


i yell 
at the sky 
i listen 
to the wind
and yet i 
don't learn anything


I've been here so long
a limbo of excess 
learning what is 
and what I've done 
are two different things




but the one thing i have observed
is that all need 
is the sun 
the sunlight 
a light 
to light me up 


some one
to light
me from 
the inside

Sunday Funday

Me

Friends

Reflection

Motion

Waiting

Stupid Funny

Silly

Beer

Baltimore

Mirror

Grip'n'Grin

Smokin' Friend

Long Sidewalk

Breaking

When you notice something, you usually do a double take to make sure you saw what you saw. so when you notice something about your past how do you do a double take on something thats already happened. 


In About four months i shall exit the military. for me it's not so much an event as it is a duty fulfilled. its like i did this for personal reasons i haven't really told many people so finishing won't be like a graduation. i'd really like just to walk away. move on. with a hope that not every organization is centered around ego. 


College will be my goal after i get out. where and what for i still haven't decided. but near the ocean is a must and i'll more than likely study something i won't use when i graduate. but its more about doing something completely different than what i have been doing for the last four years. i'd like to think academics is very different from military. 


I don't know how it will work but ill figure something out. i just want to be able to do what i want, when i want, to the extent of being successful. not held to reins by uniformed service. be able to fail with out the looming existence of being something different just cause i signed a piece of paper. 


maybe i will learn some stuff to. 


Relationships suck. from friendships to intimate shit. i'm just no good at them. mostly from selfishness. and not in the sense of 'i want to do what i want to do all the time' and 'its my way or the highway.' but i act in a way that i think i wouldn't get upset by. when really i have a high tolerance for stupid shit cause i think its funny. and i do a lot of stupid shit. but most people don't like stupid shit. cause its 'immature.' and also i just don't think about other people. i've found it to be a waste unless i am deliberately trying to do something nice or i want to be better toward them. so i often back myself in to a corner of 'fuck you' and 'whats wrong with you.' When i never would have given some situations a second thought. 


but i don't think i will ever change. i've had trust broken and broken trust enough to know that all relationships are derived from a selfish subconscious want of being accepted or some sort of validation for existence. i've never experienced a one sided relationship. in the sense of i will do this and thats, that. there is always i will do this then hold an expectation of getting something in return. whether it be material, or a certain feeling. everyone always wants more from relationships. 


I'm even worse at intimate relationships. more for the reason of me being a prick. but i want what isn't there, when whats there in the first place is what i wanted from the beginning. and also i'm a liar. a compulsive liar. not to cover things up. but to make myself feel confident enough to be comfortable around a girl i know likes me. its weird. but thinking about how i screw shit up is the main part of how i spend my thoughts. 


i guess, in reality i just need to get over myself. but i don't really know how to do that. I've given becoming a hermit, in a log cabin, on a remote property somewhere, some thought and it seems a thousand times easier than getting over myself. 


Or i could move to a different country where the language difference would save me a lot of heart ache. 


Noticing the bad things is what i am good at. in complete honesty, i don't see anything positive in myself. and that transfers over to a lot of things. but mainly i concentrate  on how bad i am and compare myself to other people to see how i could be better if i acted like that. which sounds kinda like a sociopath. but i wouldn't be surprised. 


Maybe its the fact that i am older, maybe its the fact that i can tell most the people in my life just tolerate me, or maybe its the fact that i am completely wrong about everything. but who i am now isn't who i wanted to be four years ago. and turing back would be against how i want to live my life. so finding out how to be a completely different person will more than likely be what i do for the next four years of my life. 


Thats what life is about, making rash decisions and dealing with them for the rest of your life. 

To be real

so maybe i'm archaic, but i don't like Facebook

i don't like twitter

i don't like all the other gay websites

i don't like talking on the phone

i like texting, but usually only when its a joke

i don't like tv, but i do like tv shows

i like the internet, but i don't like all the people that use it, which amounts to 7 percent of the world populace (daily basis)

i like writing letters

i like to talk to people in person

i like taking my time to get somewhere

i like taking my time, period (main reason why i am getting out of the military)

i don't like smart phones

i don't like tablets

but i like computers

i don't like celebrities

but i like sports stars

i don't like the fact that you can steal music off the internet, but i do it.

i like concerts

i like the feeling you get when you notice something took time to create

with technology advancing at the projected exponential rate it is going, time is beginning to become irrelevant.

there is no delay, no wait, no patience, everything is now. when everything is now, you loose a sense of reality. there is no time to process what just happened because there is and always will be more now. I'm not saying technology is a bad thing but american society is addicted. we want more technology, now.

which makes me really tired. why can't people just take a breath and maybe just for a second appreciate the fact of the matter that is time is not forever. maybe for an individual atom, but not for any single person, not even a diamond. Everything has an expiration. so why want everything now and pass up the opportunity to genuinely appreciate it.

maybe i'm making a mountain out of mole hill, but everything around me seems insincere. like its just done to get on to the next. like reality has become measurable only by the amount of now known. when really reality is everything that happened 15 minutes ago.

Poe Aim

broken

splattered

used, abused

and nothing less than forgotten

this is what i must be

otherwise i get caught

up in some fantastical sabbatical

of joyful lore where happiness

is reality

it's like jumping into a pool

full of hardened cement

thinking that its just

another hot day

it promises you to be broken

completely

this myth that life

was meant for something

other than

being alone

its something you could laugh at

ironically

i have anew computer — look what i can do! Short Story, Numero Dos

— all blog entries following are written as fiction based off reality of blog owner, critiques welcome —

the phone ringing in my ear hurts so much. not because of the noise but because of the caller. It's my parents. they don't know me. i don't know them. but by relation i answer. and the call is as awkward as calling a sex hotline with no goal to get off.

i answer. i talk. they talk. thats it. nothing deep or meaningful, which wouldn't be expected 50 years ago, but i live in the 21st century. No one cares about family now. at least not politically. and my family is the most politically correct family in the world. my father is a pastor. my mother is a nurse. my sister, a nurse. my parents think that i will follow my fathers footsteps and become a pastor but i am a photojournalist by trait and military man by name. i'm the wow card of my family. yes, wow card. not wild card. i cause people to say 'WOW! did he just do that,' not 'whoa, he is a wild card.'

but lest, the intro ends. i'm drunk and don't care enough to finish explaining who i am. essentially, i am jack cougar. in reality I'm a nameless human walking around town with a social security card in my pocket. which gives me a nomenclature to the government workers who don't know me. i am the 1800's john smith — the 1990's joe schmow. i am the 2000's james doe. i am humanity's average. no ambition, but a will to provide for those whom i support. the exact reason humans will never amount to anything.

but i do write.

and i do exercise.

and i don't fluff my feathers.

also, i don't care.

but to the point of the story.

i called my parents while on my way to buy a friend a Lamborghini. i had won the lottery may be a month ago and wanted to share the wealth. it just so happens i only have one friend. lucky him.

my parents distracted me so much i hung up on them. they called me back while i was in the middle of price negations for the sports car. evidently if you get called while dealing with a car dealer your price drops 30,000 dollars. whats more is i got 0 percent financing. forever. either talking on a cell phone makes you important or it just made an impression.

i left. i went back to my room. i popped open a beer and fell asleep.

i awoke to a soft knock. a little giggle. and a "it's kindle," which is obviously a fake name, but i open the door anyway.

surprise, it's a jehovah's witness, calling me to believe. so be it, i already believe. just not what they preach. the door slams, simultaneously locking the door. i go back to my 3 and 1/2 foot couch and fall asleep.

The next time i awake, i don't know what day it is, but i know where i am. in hawaii. in waikiki. and all around me is a drowning wind of an emergency alarm ring. bouncing. resonating. deafening. i run outside and realize i am in 5 feet of water. good thing i am still in boxers, otherwise i would sink from an inability to swim.

i get to the top of the roof and wait.

a helicopter comes. saves me from starvation or drowning — which ever would have come first. as we fly, i point out other people, humans, living beings, who need saving. but just because i have a high-and-tight and white skin, i get the 'lucky' pick. i watch random strangers start to cry as we fly by them, almost ignoring their pleas for life. i watch people fall to their knees. i watch people with small children and babies yell out to the copter. yet we keep on. and i ask myself why me. but then again i am a writer. and a photographer. in which i caught all those emotions. and i am a military man. so my importance can be checked off in boxes where the people i passed can't.

as we take off, i thank the flight chief for pulling me into the copter. he smiles at me and says "you don't fucking know how much i wanted you to fall and drown."

right then, i realize that even though i don know anything about my parents and they don't know anything about me, they are the closest human beings who know me as a person than i will ever have. we fly to a landing zone. i get off. i go to a medical tent. i get my prescription of muscle relaxers. afters two days i volunteer to help the needy.

i guess being apart of a politically correct family counts for something.

although, i still don't have a wife. children. a promising job. a means of sustenance or a way to explain what i do, to complete strangers. so be it.

Life happens. and i have an appointment. apparently with a doctor i never heard of.

blah blah blah

Welcome to the most awesome show of ignoramus - ness ever known.

i've been places, so what

i seen things, so what

i don't tell anyone

so it doesn't matter

my name is colby brown, but most people in my life call me faggot or douche or crazy.

maybe i am crazy but i don't give a fuck.

my life is jaded from the fact that i can't remember facts. all i remember is perception of facts so i play off other peoples ambition to make a fact known. its like boggle, and i wait till someone says something close to the answer and i end up stealing the real answer before they sound it out.

i've deployed, twice, once to southeast asia the other to afghanistan. i have returned from both but have never really ever felt like returned. i'm just waiting for something to happen. waiting for some kind of outward source to say its alright. but i don't accept shit because i have trust issues. and i don't trust one person, to the first letter of their name.

but back to my life. the current email i use for this blog is spammed full of dating sites and porn sites from how lonely i get and my natural urges. it makes me think to what men did 300 years ago. were that still just as horny?

... or alcoholic?

probably.

but no one cares. the world is ending, so love life to the fullest. except for life isn't ending and no one knows what is means to live life to the fullest.

does it mean indulge in guilty pleasures? does it mean stand up for the trending cause you believe in? does it mean living a life based off nothing more than human nature? ... no one can answer those questions without contradicting themselves. and yet american society lives on. its a phenomenon in and of its self. i hate humanity.

i drink too much. i smoke too much. i fuck too much. i play too much. but i am cognitive whilst i do so. because i want to die. but i don't have the balls to try a real suicide so i go for the subtle cancer or heart disease that will do me in, in 20 years.

i just don't see the point ... of living. i have already accomplished what i wanted out of my life, albeit not to the success i would wish, but success is based off opinion ... which is dead to begin with. opinions. its just a word to mask judgement of yourself.

but i digress. repress. depress. i have been in a state of depressive realism since i was 10 years old. after watching my friend/idol jack of in a tree fort [first time i saw another males penis]. after which i realized that nothing can satisfy, so why live to satisfy. and then i went through a rebellious phase, which i am still going though, that bases its self off the fact if i can't satisfy myself then why should i satisfy others. ... which would explain me being fired from 3 jobs and my eventually expulsion from the Marine Corps. ... i only have 8 months left, but thats is a lot of time for a rebel activist.

i write all of this because you as a reader don't know this about the author. and when i publish my first novel, all of the preceding events established my perspective to create the world in which i can acute unbelievable real scenarios.

hopefully in 5 years time i will have a novel.

... but then again maybe i will get cancer. and be a lost genius in the throngs behind socrates.

lost in south central afghanistan

i'm walking down the corridor of hawaii's international airport thinking to myself 'is this still the fucked joke that it initally was, or have i convinced everyone it's truth?'

Then i hungged good-bye and watched another person fly out of my life. although this situation was a little perennial to what i am used to.

all my life, i have been the observer. the kid on the outside looking in. not trying to fit in because you cant observe something you are a part of. so when it falls to be to be a part of something, i find myself to have sociopathic tendencies. thus the meaning to the first paragraph.

is it a heightened state of mind that causes deep thought or the lack of minding. see, i dont give a fuck about much. i care about impressing myself, i care about food and i care about the person i maybe in love with at the point in my life. but in the last five years of my life i found that it is easy for me to drop everything and move on to something new. but i always find myself thinking about things way to much.

for instance in the act of going to a mess hall, eating ans leaving. things that usually pass thought through my head consist of: i wonder where the silverware was made? do the people who make it ever think about the impact they make on peoples lives? because without silverware we'd be the same a primates. are people watching me, judging me? good, it means im important enough to be thought about when i walk into a room? does everything think as much as i do? whats going through the average persons head on the evryday basis?

The point of this isn't to pad my self-esteem. its to prove the point that i observe. instead of recognizing aquiantences, i keep to myself and pondering the meaning of life. but i by no means think my self higher than any other man. which perplexes me.

but the point of this rant to beg the question of differences between personal perspectives on reality. a mechanic may not have a college degree but he much more intelligent in the ways on combustable motors than say a medical doctor and visa verca. this example goes the same with life in general. different people different experiences. Two people can go to the same event, an execution of a murderer, but their experiences can be completely different. one could be the mother of the murderer and the othe the mother of the victim. since this is true then why is it so important in american society to achieve in others peoples eyes when the only thing that really matters is to achieve for yourself.

call it selfishness, or insolence or whatever the cae maybe. but one thing i know is that i dont give a fuck what anyone thinks. i know that my perspective is looked down upon. but i just proved everyone who looks down upon that perspective wrong.

The Superfluous

It's like everyone is addicted to crack, but they don't want to admit it.

There is a point i have reached in my life where playing the role i thought i wanted to live has become boring to me.

It's almost as if the world around me left me for a second and in that short time i saw how needless every monetary and emotional want i have witnessed is.

To live you need ambition, with out that you have died before drawing your last breath. with ambition comes the choice to leave things and to take things. The decision of the later defines how ambitious you really are. I have chose that with nothing in the instance of materialism, the expirence of everything i do will become tripled in it's meaning. Not only to me but to those i incounter.

If i have no personal ties to the things i do, then their success is inevitable. Because it won't be my success but some one elses. There is no need to make a name for yourself or be accepted or to have a since of achievement. The only need is the simple fural needs of water food and shelter. Everything else man has created to validfy his existence is superfluous.

In fact this blog is superfluous.

But it is where i annouce to myself the feelings of a moment so i can get on with my life and never feel the same thing again.

"I exist therefore i am" is a statment of a uneducated poppy smoking gypsy who had the privledge of being historically documented.

I exist therefore my need of anything else is not.

Expirences in life will come undoubtedly. But the manner in which to live them shouldnt be greedy.

If you spend your money young, drive as fast as you can, make decisions on a whim and never look behind you, when you do go to draw your last breath there will be a fullfillment money, relationships, and reknown will never be able to offer. It will be one of ownership on the one thing that is truly yours and that is your life.

If you endeavour to amass that which man has historically always tried to, i.e., money. power, women and reknown, then you will end up asking yourself the same question everyone else has before they died. "did i make an impact" "was my life good" "do people know my name," essentially asking the opinion of what your peers think of your accomplishments. When really the only opinion you should be concerned about is your own.

it been a time or two

whats this thing called belief

we all strive for our own, but in reality we dont have our own. someone before us or after us will have the same. either inspired or driven to something that makes us, we all have something that is our core.

the question is what?

you can say youre individual. you can cay youre new. you can say youre different. but in the back of your mind you know that you take on your mom and dads traits. whoever they are. you take the goal of your hero. whoever they may be. you arent individual. youre just a copy. a xerox of something someone sometime that you believe is yours. but its not yours.

all of us. not matter how lonely. not matter how recluse. no matter how abandoned. have someone in our life who define us. whether it be your immediate family, your friends, the people you work with, your idols, your habits or your loves. this is what makes your experiences, your life different from those people before you who believed the same thing.

there is nothing about you that makes you different from anyone else. it is all about who you choose thats makes you individual. your friends bring both the best out of you and the worst. your enemies bring out the ambition and drive. your family bring out the stability and comfort. your love brings out the happiness and originality. without these things no one is anything, but just another 90 years of eating drinking breathing and sleeping.

its when you endorse these aspects of your life when you become who you want. because alone your nothing.

a lone violinist is nothing with out the symphony. a lone infantry man is nothing with out his platoon. a lone construction worker is nothing without his team. a lone professor is nothing with out his class. a lone preacher is nothing without his congregation.

until theyre with who they need, they are nothing. it is when you realize who you need to help build upon your beliefs is when you become individual.

selfishness is only a bad thing when it begins to block out these people, things, habits or loves that will only add to your life.

everything has a purpose. but its purpose is only defined when you embrace it.

individuality is a myth. a tall tale told to you in elementary school so your imagination doesnt exceed that of your teacher. imagine a society where you learned more about who you need than what you need.

materialism wouldnt be corrupting everything real in this world.

it would be more about the things that last.

like friends, family and love.

not necessarily having more focus on these things. just a general realization that they really, in the end, are important.

wake up to muddy water.

im in a half way place. in the middle. like im on a tight rope in between two buildings. and forgot which side i started from. and which side i need to end on. ... more so, its like im floating in mid-air like a cartoon who fell off a cliff. im just waiting to fall.

maybe its just general unhappiness. but ive been getting more reckless. like i need something big to happen.

i think to hard about things i cant change. and when i think about those things i lose myself in a swirl of whats-if-whose-its?

there are alot of new feelings i have had in the past month that i am not used to. maybe everything is just muddled. i just need to go wipe my memory and start fresh. i feel bogged.

... i hit my two year mark in the military. yay me. i cant wait to for this to be over. i cant wait for my contract to end. this journey has definitely taught me some things. but it is a choice i think would have been better if i did the opposite.

im really done with people though. like interacting with them. faking emotions to fit in. listening to people talk. thats probably the worst. when some ass is talking to you and your looking him in the eye and dismissing everything he says but nod your head in agreement so he will stop sooner. and if you mimic their body language then they will be more comfortable and talk longer. so you have to do the opposite. like turn you torso away form them. or if they are talking with their hands put your hands in your pocket. or if they are leaning on one leg evenly balance you weight on both legs. angle your feet away from them.

when you do that, small talk usually disappears and the conversation will last only a couple sentences.

what i hate most is having to act like i care when somebody talks directly to me. especially when there is a group of people around. it is like your almost obligated to care because otherwise you will look like as ass.

maybe i am just an ass.

id like it alot better if i could have complete control over what, who, where and when the human contact i have through out the day will happen.

like, so i could prep myself.

"alright, at 10:30 this morning i have to go talk to this girl. she is needy and slightly depressed. avoid eye contact and keep everything quick and concise. that way, she cant explain to you her life story about how her gold fish died and she cried when she flushed him down the toilet. and how that could transform in to how she always seems to have to end everything good and watch it be flushed away by her dramatically dismal life." ... who fucking cares. all i needed to ask you was if there was more toner for the printer.

i could have a daily planner and prepare myself for everything. automated interaction. it would be awesome.

thats what i feel like. a robot. except i havent been programed for anything yet. so i just am. no real purpose.

whateves. this blog is to long.

Poe At Tree (dont read the likes)

like lost in the dark

like a moonless sky

like deaf in a symphony

like lost at sea

like trapped inside a remote submarine

like a broken swing

like a polluted beach

like alone in a crowd

like lost in the forest

like suffocating

like the only one who doesnt speak Spanish

like barricade before safety

like trapped above ground in a building on fire

like great grand mothers

like unfound nothings

like a star among billions

like at the bottom of a glacial hole

like my chance

like infinite forever

like gender female

empty words for a full page

im back bitches. to hawaii. feels great. even though the monotony has already started to settle, i am 100 percent happier here simply because i am away from bullshit. its like a blinder has lifted from my eyes to show me that everything is the same.

except one thing is different. there is this girl. and then there is me. and then there is this other guy. but that guy is thousands of miles away. but so is she. even though physically she is here. but i like her and she likes me. the other guy has her though because she is in love.

i think life would be so much more simple if people just understood, that in reality, love doesnt exist. it isnt an emotion like some people seem to think. you cant say im so love right now like you can with mad happy or sad. and there really is nothing about love that constitutes that it is real. other than people saying i love you.

there are relationships. and i think people just dub relationships that become intimate as love. but in reality the strongest relationships have no dub. there is just you and another person and you cohere like a 50 page symphony about love. ha

but love.

is unproven.

and labeling a relationship "love" builds a wall to where that relationship will go. it names, it packages it and sends it on its way towards a happily ever after. when a relationship should not only progress your life because the other person adds something to your life, but it shouldnt be packaged in a tight ball of expectations. and relationships definitely should not be labeled.

"this is my number one parent and this is my number two parent. i fight with number two. thats why they are number two. "

i labeled parenthood relationships and ruined any real impact parent number two will have on that child.

i dont know. maybe its the fact that i havent been in an intimate relationship for the past almost 4 years. and the only people i say i love you too and mean it are people that i dont have an intimate relationship with.

but to me love if fake.

the only person who probably actually feels love is God.

another change tonight. i held a girl in my arms for no other reason than she was cold beautiful and definitely giving me the eye. this is a change because the last time i did that i hadnt even graduated from highschool. i think its fair to say it was 3 and a half years ago.

and man do i miss it. being able just to hold a girl. feel their heart beat. know that they are in your arms. i was actually happy. to bad its the same girl from the above explanation of my belief in love.

but do i miss it.

to bad it probably wont happen for another three and a half years. ha

im to awkward when it comes to talking to the opposite sex. its like when you were in grade school and the teacher wrote the letters on the board and you were suppose to write them down. for me, in the instance of girls, when i write it down it comes out in a big tangled ball of scribble.

oh well. im a lone bear anyways. i completely content with eating my hairy ass fat with berries and trout and then sleeping for 3-6 months.

completely content.

blank sheet of black paper with a black ink pen

just a couple more days and back in hawaii.

cant wait. i can not wait. even though i know when i get back, there will be the same monotony that i left there six months ago. but still. im somewhat comfortable there.

there is so much that i am going to force myself to experience. because doing nothing all the time really gets old. like surfing for instance. you would think i would have already done that. nope. havent.

life while waiting sucks a mean one though. its like time slows when you are waiting for something. and while time is slowing down your schedule seems to free up miraculously. so you have nothing to do except sit and wait for time.

its frustrating.

like when you want to watch TV and dont know where the remote it so you have to walk back and forth from the TV to change channels. not that i personally have put the effort to walk back and forth from the TV just to change channels. but that would be frustrating.

but, i dont really know what do to with myself. i have no ambition to do anything right now. and am struggling to word together sentences.

maybe i just need to get in trouble.
thats always a good thing. i mean, yeah, maybe the consequences that come from getting in trouble are negative. like degradation of reputation, loss of pay or wage or maybe just general disappointing your peers. that one can definitely be a killer. but when you get in trouble there is definitely no waiting going on. probably the best part is right before you get in trouble when you know your getting in trouble but no one else knows and your all anxious and stuff.

that feeling is the EXACT opposite of what i am feeling right now.

i feel like a slug.

A bus ride

recently, within the hour recently, i was inside of a bus.

riding in this enlongated automobile for more than an hour. to a destination not much different from where i was picked up.

it made me think why men/human beings in general strive. not only for material things but for acceptance. for an appreciation of ones own existince, that is, extra cirricular to ones own thought. and in striving to be remembered or to be noted as "one of the best" of something or simply to accomplish the goals a person may have, we get caught up riding in an automobile. to somehwere. where something has to be done. and then we leave and go back to where we came.

all the while, while this thought is running through my head, i am watching two fat-ass disgusting bitches flirt with this fat-ass guy. it annoyed me. one, because they were fat, two, because they were ugly and three, because they were enjoying themselves.

but for some reason i wished that i could, at least, have the intestinal fortitude to enter in to a conversation with more than one person. i was envying these people. these annoyances to my deep thoughts of life i was having while on the intra-camp shuttle in okinawa. ... haha

and it just pissed me off even more and made me more confused about why people do what they do. i mean why were these three people, who are never going to run for president or for neighborhood watch president in that matter, so intwined with eachother. what possesses an individual to care so much for something that will more than likely fail.

which brings me back to my starting question. why do we strive. for right now, my answer is because we have nothing better to do.

hopefully my answer will change.

monday morning on a friday night

interpretation and perception are the building blocks of wisdom, intelligence and truth.

it just so happens that the way i interpret and perceive things makes me look like a dumbass.

i want to be that guy in history that does something so profoundly stupid and time stopping that i change the human culture in one fell swoop.

------

imagine for a minute, or how ever long it takes you to read this blog.

imagine you are a 8 year old boy growing up in a trailer park full of drunks and failures.

and drunks aren't failures, at least they can say they are doing something with their life – drinking it away.

imagine one day you walk home from school and find your mother being rapped by her boyfriend.

Imagine he stops mid-hump and walks your direction.

imagine he hits you pulls your pants down and begins in on you.

then you grow up after that. remising the fact you were rapped and have trouble in society. being a social recluse and awkward in every conversation you ever have.

imagine not being able to deal with the fact that your past has made you into a turmoil of emotion. mostly anger.

imagine in high school you get beat up everyday for not fitting in with the "cool" kids.

you are an outcast. you know exactly why. but you cant admit it because when you admit it, you would make it okay that your mom's boyfriend rapped you.

finally you literally cant deal any longer and you take a gun to school fire off all your bullets killing those who deserved it and injuring random people you didnt know.

then you pull out your last bullet from your front jacket pocket.

you load the gun, wrap your lips around the barrel and pull the trigger.

weeks later a mug shot of you can be seen on CNN. you are made into the monster you knew you always were. people hate you. thousands who dont even know you wish you to have a wonderful life in hell.

but no one knows your story. no one knows that what you went through makes what you did look like a happy sunday afternoon at a candy store.

instead you are the blame of everything wrong in the world. an excuse for everyone to curse your name. the personification of a scapegoat.

and not a single person, not even you mother who knows what happens, tries to defend you.

even at the funeral where hundreds protest.

imagine for a second that this story wasnt an exaggerated truth of american culture.

welcome to america.

oh, and if you didnt know you will never be truly excepted for who you are. if you dont make a poster-board character that you can act out when talking with your boss, your peers or any stranger that you happen to strike up a conversation with, then fuck off you freak.

america is the only nation with a different personality-outfit for everyday of the year.

happy gluttony and greed day, its august 7th.

welcome to generation i-dont-give-a-fuck.

cosmetic surgery

so i am back from the depths of the sea. went to korea and did what ever it is that we did there. and now i am back in Schwab. running a metal grinder on my forhead out of boredom.

but just for your FYI i didn't ignore my duites as a blog owner and dismiss my responsibility to write. i was just locked out of my gmail account for "mis-use." but now i reset it and everything is back in order.

i had a recent epiphany that no matter what happens with in the next ten years i am going to become a rock star. allbeit i may be playing on a street corner for nickels and dimes. but i will be doing it.

you know how sometimes when you working through out the day or walking somewhere you start talking to your self about all th things that get pushed to the back of your brain. like how you accidently cut yourself shaving that morning or over cooked the eggs or some bullshit like that. well when i have those thoughts it isnt a coherent sentence i here my self speaking to my brain. what i hear is guitar riffs that i could possibly be playing. i here lyrics that would make a mother punch a baby in the face. i hear the future of who i am playing its chorus in my head.

maybe its just been to long since i picked up my guitar. but i definitely have decided a goal for myself.

so get your autographs now ladies.

cause i wont give them out for free later.

its that or become a garbage man.
no one fucks with the garbage man.

but i am really excited to be away from this unit and these people.

its like i got an apartment and got this really sweet roomate. but a month down the road i realized he wasnt that awesome. and three more months down the road you realize you have to stop your self from killing him for not paying his half of the rent, leaving the milk out, eating your frozen dinners, missing the toliet when he pees and doesnt clean up, has obscenely fat people over to eat fast food and pizza and not pick up and then acts like everything that goes wrong that went wrong is your fault.

thats what it has been like to be wit these people.

they are fakes.

like bisquick pancakes.

those things taste like cardboard.

but 9 days.
9 days to a new guitar, being in hawaii and a realization that asking girls out isnt as scary as i think and needs to be done cause this guy can handle the whole no girl thing.

if you know what i mean.

but i miss everyone.

especially you.

secrets, secrets, secrets

so ... its been more than the regular time since i have posted a regular blog. i think it is due. maybe past due.

to start off i have a secret to share with the world. a secret that will probably make you rethink the  way you think of me. a secret i couldnt tell you in person.

but online communication is so much easier to release.

so. the secret. the pending doom of my reputation. the thing that will change how people view me.

here it is:

recently, i have been doing something before i fall asleep. not masturbation. because that is too relative.

i have been watching twilight: the new moon. everynight. in fact i just finished watching it for the  umpteenth time.  i feel gay. i feel like a homosexual. i feel like a prepubescent girl screaming at the top of her lungs for edward. i feel like less than a man

but i cant help myself.

it is infecting. i just zone out. nothing else matters besides this love triangle that the film so terribly endorses me. 

i feel like i need an intervention. but then again i enjoy watching it. 

before you judge me. before you call me GAY.  just realize i know how ridiculous it is. ha. and i know how faggoty it is.  

but anyhow. my life is bland. working with reservist it the equivalent to going back to MCT. they dont know what it really means to be a garrison Marine. ... they may know what it is to deploy. but nothing what so ever about being a P O G. fuuuck

i wish i would have never said i wanted to go on this. this fucking shit storm. thats all it is. it isnt a float. it isnt MEU. it is a shit STORM. no one knows what to do and the people who do just pretend to not know. 

i love it. and i hate it.

chaos means your living. but extended chaos means you dont know how to stop.

thats this fucking exercise. 

im done with this shit. 

i just going to write stories about what i want. ... like what its like to be a reservist. to know that in august they get to go back home to the civilian world and not give a damn. fuck them. 

fuck this.

i recommend no active duty marine to work with reserve marines. haha i purposely miss grammared (AP STYLE MUTHA FUCKA) reservist. LOOK IT UP  BITCH.

but anyways. i am about 7 days from actually getting on ship. 

Cant wait. ... NOT

im not even in a unit. it is just a bunch of marines who came together to play marine on the weekend and found out that libo wasnt guaranteed. haha. i made myself laugh.

but i miss home. home being KBAY. ... sadly.  but i miss it. most of all the people. the friends. the relationships. i dont even want to try to build relationships here. fuck everybody. im better of being alone anyways. plus i am the only public affairs marine here so no one knows what i am actually supposed to be doing. ... its funny but i end up doing it anyways. and you know what i am talking about. the whole extracurricular fucking thinking.

but, but, but, ... i wish i had a time machine. relive the recent past. not go one with the future. no matter how you look at it the future sucks compared to the past. 

haha back to the future. Love that movie.

but anyways. the cat it out of the bag. every knows i am a twilight fan now. and quit frankly i dont give a damn.  because i have a humungious crush on kristen stewart. its epic. ive never wanted a girl so badly. DAMN. maybe i just need to realize that i am on camp schwab. in okinawa. in japan. and i hate asians. maybe that has something to do with. 

but comment bitches. i need you feedback more than air. you are my only resource of actual human interaction. 

just do it.

like nike.

that is all.

platoon sgt.s carry out the plan of the day. 

FUCK THAT SHIT.

the reality of life

break apart

like a finished puzzle

fall apart

like a cheap table

i miss the feeling

a feeling i have never felt

of wholeness

of completeness

of being wanted

drag the ball and chain

that impersonates your life

the relationships

the needs 

the wants

drag it to the end of the road 

and drag it some more

drag it  till it makes your ankle bleed 

and drag even more

thats what life is 

just one small drag

from one step to the next

just a dead weight of life 

just a lie that you think is true

history repeats itself 

no matter what it is 

it could be the fall of rome

or dropping a glass vass

it will happen again sometime

i hate everything

including myself

i look in the mirror and puke out of revulsion 

its the same every day

the round nose

the green senseless eyes

the full lips

the uneven eyebrows

the broken nose

and then i wonder what it would be like 

what it would be like to die

Short Story

"Hey!"

"Hi. How are you?" said steve, member of the Bank of America planning and commissioning board.

Steve reached into the front pocket of his 3-piece-suit jacket, pulled out a crack pipe and lit it. he sucked on one end the other lit up, fire burning the small rock he bummed from the prostitute he visited an hour ago. The smoke filled his lungs, choking out the oxygen. he exhaled.

"im good, im good. where it is?" said pablo. a run down landscaper, with sun worn skin taunt on his face like a deer skin drying on a skin board. 

Steve pulled out the stash. 40 dimes worth of dope and threw it on the table. in his other hand the weight of his .44 made the handle of his pistol hit the wooden table top with a thud.

"Money?" steve asked. 

Pablo looked behind his back. reached into the front pocket of his worn levis and pulled out 10k. 

"Look man its all i got. my family needs food, my car needs--"

the hammer fell on steve pistols, triggering a concluded blast that rang out only in steves small apartment. Pablo looked down to see a hole in his abdomen. he looked up and fell over.

steve stood up from the office chair he was seated in. walked around the four legged card table and stepped over pablo. 

"Thats why you take care of the needs first my little mexican" steve said.

Steve took a step to the door. turned his torso around and finished pablo off with a bullet in the head. 

-----

Steve woke up drenched in a sticky red mess. he looked around and saw 5 or 6 men grouped around him like a huddle. body parts strewn across his bed like puzzle pieces. on the pillow next to him was pablo's head.

"the man you killed last night owed us 100 dimes my friend." said the stockiest of the group. he had  pair of elton john sunglasses on and bowlers hat. there was a thin mustache that crawled on his top lip and a goatee that rode all the way down to his adams apple. his nose was big. his ears were big. and his hands were left in the pockets of his jeans.

"i think you need to rethink who kill,.... business man." said the stocky one.

the group of men left in a shuffle out steves front door. 

later that day steve took out a loan for 100,000 thousand dollars at the same bank he worked at.

"THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS MONTH STEVE, HOW DO YOU SPEND ALL THIS MONEY?" yelled the loan clerk with round rimless glasses. 

"... its simple" steve said. "i didnt take of my needs."

 

collaborative clouds

it starts in the back and works its way to front

like a home run hitter lining up for a bunt

a starling in a midnight sky

you wouldnt know it if the wind passed you by

it builds upon itself like a pile of sand

always falling through the crevices of the builders hand

its hides in the dark 

it smiles while in a lark

it draws you in like the ark

and shows you the end is stark

continue, proceed, persist, persevere

its nearly unclear which way to steer

its the broken pick-up in an old mans garage

its the realization that water in the desert is only a mirage

its a barrage of an unending collage about the wrong cause

its every wrong thing youll ever need

it spikes your drink stronger than speed

just out of reach

atop the highest peak

a water balloon with a leak

no words could ever speak

the lie of a century

is the whisper of sanity   

suicidal tendencies ruin the structure of the human brain

im lost.

not because i am "deployed." not because i am in a foreign country where i know no one. not because i am depressed. i am just lost.

i was walking to the px and i looked up, away from the ground, and saw the beach and the endless ocean with its impossible amount of water, fish and life. i wished i was out there by myself, with no one except myself a boat and a fishing lure. i feel that way alot. wanting to be secluded. separated from humanity. a slave to nothing. and a servant to my needs. 

when i was out in the field i thought about how easy it would have been just to take off running perpendicular to the direction my platoon was hiking and forever become an MIA lost in the okinawan japanese jungle. i could have survived. embraced my primal side and became a feral human living off the land. ... but i didnt. and that is why i am lost.

i hate this life. this monotony of things that dont matter. this ritual of pleasing yourself and then trying to please everyone. this fucking game where NO ONE wins. every one is a loser. no matter how much success a person can have they will still die alone and live alone in death. 

fuck it though. 

while i am here might as well make a use of myself. it is just hard to play a game you dont know the rules to and dont know how to cheat at.  i have so much hate for everything.

what if society were backwards and hate was the equivalent to happiness. i would be the most successful person in the world. FUCK.

oh well what matters, matters and what doesnt, doesnt. no one can change that.

i have decided that while in the Marine Corps i will become a blob. a conforming idiot who will yell YES CORPORAL to any command and try to achieve my mission the best i can. i mean thats what i am supposed to do as and Lance Cooly isnt it?

maybe i just havent lived enough to realize the beauty of everything but for the fifth of a century that i have been on this planet, everything seems futile.

i feel like a borg from star trek.

resistance is futile.

oh well. oh well. oh well.

i cant wait to get on ship. i am never going to sleep. i am going to become a ship rat and follow other other rats on boat while they go exploring the lower decks. 

i am claustrophobic. and i cant stop thinking that a chinese sub is going to sink the boat i am on and i will be stuck in the lower decks searching for pockets of air before i drown.

this is a really dark blog.

i miss the simplicity of shooting a pellet gun at a can for 12 hours and then falling alseep. 

DO WORK SON.

continued impartial reality

ive done it yet again. conquered a waging war no one knows about except for myself. gone to and fro from dark to light and realized how frivolous it is to concern oneself with the torment inside ones brain. let your subconscious handle it. thats what it is there for. ego, super ego and id. dont try to combine them, live in the super ego. the now.

but as far as my life, i finally have an outlet. a place to reboot and dump memory. something i can connect with and chat for a while. all be it, it is a strange relationship given certain circumstances. but i try not to concern myself with things if the consequence of tampering with them would be negative.

also i realized the immortality of the Marine Corps and how that has to do with me. The Marine Corps is the "warrior class" of american society. it contains leaders, fighters, cannon fodder and anything else that has to with modern martial combat. the reason why i hate it is, i am not one of the warrior kindred. i would rather coop myself up for days working on an art piece than study infantry tactics and conducting weapons maintenance. i am in the wrong class. i should be enrolled in Berkley, or some arts school back east wearing worn out clothing, having a permanent stain from paint on my fingers, lead smudges on my face from sketching and clay on my shoes from throwing pottery all day. throwing pottery is what they call making it, because you actually throw slabs of clay down on the work table to flatten them out. i dont belong in the Marine Corps. my recruiter failed. fuck him. oh well, he made quota for that month. 

i am so obsessed and nostalgic of the times when i would spend hours upon hours on a painting.  it engulfs me. it is all i want to do. i miss that more than anything. 

one day.

but this coming week should be good. going out into the field once again to the jungle. this time i will actually be doing my job. the whole taking pics and writing stories. awesome. maybe i will get some sweet shots. i hope so. 

I am excited to go do something though. finally. time here ticks by as if each individual second is a whole month. and i still have yet to go out into the japanese culture. i say fuck it. i dont even like asians anyways.  call it racist or call it what you may, i just dont appreciate they way they look and they way they interact with a white man such as myself. selfish, i know. white supremacist, a little. chauvinistic, yes. but it is how i feel. so fuck them.

but anyways i shall go and create. art. if resources are willing, a painting. 

here's to you. my audience of one and the infinite portal known as cyberspace. may a random search engine find my blog for and avid reader who could spread the word.

into the JUNGLE

so it never fails that i find myself getting to do things everyone around me wants to do but i have no desire of partaking in.
This week i will go to the Jungle Warfare Training Center and play in the jungle with the banana spiders and the snakes for about a week. Sounds exciting and all but i just dont want to. Its like when your buddy tries to get you to go climb on top of the highschool and you dont want but do it anyways. hopefully it is good.
This week was crazy, and i realized that human beings are strange creatures. We can adapt to everything that nature can throw at us physically but our one weakness is when we cant handle something that is mentally challenging. i probably think to much.
Also i hate he military and this time it isnt cause of all the other things i have been bitchin about. this time it is serious. yesterday there was a mass handout of experimental Malaria pills that are supposed to prevent someone from getting the disease in country. Funny thing is i woke up like five times last night from crazy fucking dreams. funny story to go along with that. i woke up this morning to nothing. my alarm didnt go off so i slept in a little. the problem was that sunrises in japan look exactly like sunsets. so i get out of bed and check my wristwatch and it says 7:45. since it was an analog and not digital i didnt know if it was am or pm. so in my mind i am thinking i seriously just slept for 24 hours or more. i put my clothes on as fast as i could and pratically ran to the office i am working in cause i am in the process of building a unit website and i had work to do. i run by someone and they stare at me like i am fucking crazy. i stop and say whats up. His reply "what the fuck are you doing up so early, everyone else is either hungover or sleeping cause of libo last night."
i stare at him with deer in the headlight eyes and my mind races. i look to the horizon and see the sun rising on the wrong side of the sky and the only response i can com up with is "what day is it"
The rest of the day i have been in a shade of what the fuck, i dont even know whats going on.
But back to my original point, fuck the military and their experimental drugs, that shit sent me tripping.
This week should be good though, just as long as i dont get bit by a snake or attacked by a banana spider. have you seen those things, FUUCK! they are mean.
Also a sense of dread has come over me. i dont want to deploy, i dont want to be in the military, i dont want the chance to go to oriental countries, i dont want to go on a ship for four months and i dont want to be here.
What i want is to be enrolled in an art college, taking 36 credits worth of painting a semester, savoring every waking moment, making pottery and selling it at local farmers markets, riding a bike because i am a hippie, having conversations about how everything from politics to gov't is corrupt and enjoying my life.
guess somethings you gotta live through.
i get to distracted by the small things to be in the military.
.....Fuck MRE's. dammit, i just realized i am not going to eat next week cause of those fucking things.

Japan

It's pretty cool to go somewhere where no one knows you and you can make a completely new you. It's cool to drop eveything off at the air terminal and pick out new things in a different country. It is also cool to save what you had and build upon it. I just haven't made the decision yet as to which choice i will choose.
Japan is calming, yeah, sure, there are still sirens and crime and chaotic experiences you can control. But it is definitely different than any street i have walked down in the US. The air is different. you breathe it different. you see the sunset different. you here birds differently. you notice things you wouldnt have back home that make you miss home and you dont know why. One thing that is a tower on the horizon is that it is calm. even the ocean seems calmer. i dont know why. I wouldn't want to live here, im not a theologist or anything of the sort. i would get to bored.
Its amazing that when you are in the military, when you travel nothing really matters other than getting there. I noticed myself barely making time to use the bathroom going from airliner to airliner. Japanese bathrooms are nice. Thats another thing about japan. everything is nice, neat and clean. But i hate not noticing things. I am an observer, if you would, so watching and enjoying the small things like the difference between the people who say thankyou at a airport mart and the people who dont is important to me. Its not really passing judgement as much as it is rationalizing the need to have people who say thank you and the people who dont.
The japanese culture is something America should let culture. I hate it when i see a mcdonalds, or a costco or a home depot in the same place i watch a complete stranger bow inrespect of another stranger just because it is a common courtesy. Americas great and so is mcdonalds but it disgusts me how infecting and virus like the American culture can be.
But anyways, a couple weeks and i will be on my voyage, my journey to the third world. i always thought that phrase was ridiculous, i mean earth is the third planet so third world countires are in the right place and 'first world' countries are on mercury buring alive. A very artistic metphor or supposition but if you think about it, it is completely true. My journey will consist of alot of free time, and alot of hurry ups, and alot of motion. hopefully i dont get seasick.

Secluded Recluse

One week before my first 'deployment' as a Marine. Really it is an exercise where I go from port to port documenting a foreign relation joint operation and get drunk. hopefully i don't touch the booze. booze makes me to honest and really, if i am being honest, i have never been honest in my life, other than when i am drunk. But anywho, one week, not only to prepare for a deployment but to say goodbye to people who i will never see again. Currently at the office i work at there are three people who i consider to be three of four of the only friends i have that live on the same island as me. whats worse is the whole mixed emotion scenario when a life changing situation arises and you know it is coming. mixed emotions like love, hate, grudges and doubt. but hopefully nothing seriously damaging happens to ruin those relationships.  

to my earlier post, i still fucking hate the military but i am over whining about it. i could be way worse off and as i have it now, it being life, it is pretty good. although i am unbelievable lonely. to the point where i day dream about meeting someone who would go out of there way for me. someone other than my immediate family and someone who isnt already married. i have a bad habit of becoming great friends with women i could never be with, but oh well.

i also realized that my efforts in any form or fashion to remedy the problems with my family are for not. they are more fake and crazy than i am. they are impossible. 

I think as i live and become older i have more realizations that putting an effort to change something is useless because you cant change everything and you cant change time. Explaining the part about you cant change everything, people are stubborn but something that is rock solid are ideals and to change an ideal would be the equivalent of what hitler tried to do to the jewish culture. Explaining the part about you cant change time, time changes everything on its own and to its own accord. to change time would be to change the fabric of the universe. and why you would want to change time would be to alter the affects someone's efforts to change something would be. in short the time machine hasnt been invented yet so there for you cant change time. All this makes me unmotivated to do anything and makes me nostalgic for the days when i have five and didnt have to worry about change. not that i remember my childhood o just doubt i was worried about change.

but anyways, i need a girl. somebody i can be vulnerable in front of and not feel embarrassed and not feel judged. basically someone who could love me. that is unlikely though. especially considering i have a tendency to fuck everything up that has the potential to be important to me. thats why i dont care about anything. 

But that is it for this day in Colby's life. heres to you, my none existent audience, whom i love dearly.