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Whoa, I'm alive.

It's, like, been a month or stuff, hasn't it? Things were middley for a bit but now the going's getting good.

I hardly understand where these funks of mine come from, but they can be f'ing sneaky. I think I was, as usual, feeling left out, unsatisfied, and stuck. That's pretty typical or me I guess.

Thing is that funkness isn't the whole reason I wasn't posting. Things got kinda hectic somehow. Like, I was doin' a lot of hardcore stuff at work and rushin' around, and what freetime was left was absorbed by the funk, Pokémon, and the odd proactive thing. Muchly weird.

But onto the gooder stuff!

So I finally got my resume together. Thank fucking Jesus. My sponse is looking it over but I feel it's overall so much better than my previous ones. It certainly helps that now I can say stuff like "totally rocks at American Eagle".

Last week Parker, Kial, and I all went to see Finding Nemo in Wheaton Plaza and then Lifeforce at the AFI Silver. Fuckin love that place, man. And love those movies! (Btw, it was kinda cute seeing Parker cry at Nemo and Kial claim she hated Lifeforce even though she'd been laughing at its goofiness as much as anyone else in the theater :P)

Incidentally I started taking fish oil supplements again; I always gave up on them in the past because of how loopy and extra spacey I always felt the first day on them. This time I've stuck with them longer, and frankly I'm blown away. I feel so much more up and ready and focused and motivated and stuff--and, mindblowingly enough, consistently so. Like even when I start to feel fatigued now, I'm still somewhat alert and functional. It's madness, and awesome. :-)

Big News: go to my litty blog to read all the fantastically awesome shit about the poetry I've been writing and my interest in & ambitions regarding reading at open mics. It's pretty intense, man; I'd started writing it here but I felt it was digressing, if interestingly, from whatever the rest of this post had been about. Plus I neglect the lit blog waaay worse than this one so it's about time I put something there. So go there now.

In sum: I'm really proud of myself and how I've been working on this recent poem; it makes me feel like such a grownup writer :)
Also: I don't just want to read my poetry; I want to enact each line with force & sincerity. And imagining myself doing so has helped immensely with how I approach my poetry.


Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo. In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June .  ( Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide. ) The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous fl

Rocky Horror - Better than Glee.

You know, I've routinely refused to watch Glee. Like whoa. I've seen bits, it's amusing, but not my thing. Plus how can I be a properly pretentions intellectual fag if I don't look down on & snub snobbily some ragingly popular thing?? It's just not proper decorum, really. I'm also in a Rocky Horror Picture Show shadowcast (website in progress, but that's us :)). Naturally, they were all excited about that Glee episode when they first heard about it; I on the other hand gave a pained smile and said "Isn't that special. I'm still not watching it." Part of me's pretty glad I didn't, frankly. (hah! get it? like Tim Curry.)

A Valentine's Special.

Yeah, I'm one of those guys who's never really been with someone around Valentine's. I am sometimes baffled how other people manage these things--and why I can't. To be fair, it's probably as much my not trying enough and trying too hard as it is anything pariticularly wrong with me. Like, I know I don't get myself out there enough to meet guys and when I do it's probably compensatory and usually flawed from the start. The other question is--why does it matter so much to me? Evidently it seems like something I want but something I'm scared of, too. It may also be something I'm just not very good at. I'm secretly timid and fearful of most confrontation and directness. For all my communication skills, I always seem to chicken out when it comes to talking to guys in a healthy, sustaining way. I'm a dreamer who wants something nice badly enough to stick to something for the concept of having it more than the reality of dealing with it; I want t