Witness the powers made mine with outpouring of prose not necessitated!!

Spunky083083: y for u talking so wierd buddy ol pal o mines

i like sushi 523: such whimsical whimsey cannot be other than the simplest arms of a simpleton well-armed.
When stocked armory becomes by Musical celestine, simpleton free to bear with rivals in mind foremost. Even
greater becomes said fury at such time as spoken rival makes affronts personal to innocent simpleton's
somnia.

Spunky083083: ¿¿¿¿¿?????

- posted by Third @ 3:28 AM (0) comments

 
i could really use a hug right now.

A Smurfie-hug, if you've got one handy.

Courtesy.

Update: i can't sleep.
in a futile attempt to slake my insomnia, i ingested the following:
1/4 cup half and half
2 Olives, Green (Fractional Pimento)
3 Tablespoons Crumbled Feta
1/4 cup blackberry juice
2 slices dill pickle
and half a strawberry,
the other half having been sacrificed
in hopes that Smurfie will find sweet dreams.

This home remedy proving useless,
i am blaming a rival muse; and attempting to
mollify said celestine by lapsing solely into Dadaist prose
for the duration of tonight's insomnia,
directly following this article.

Courtesy.
- posted by Third @ 10:09 PM (0) comments

 
i've taken a day to think about what happened last night, and i've come to a decision. i've had wonderful support from you, my friends, who have been wonderful to me through this. From you, my friends, i've had recommendations across the board; from "Just ignore him from now on. Act like he doesn't even exist. Be polite, but keep away." To "…report the dickwad's candy ass," all the way to "Beat the **** out of that guy for me, okay?" One of you even prayed with me, bless you. But the path i've chosen to take is not one that was recommended by any of my friends and classmates, although i think all of you, most especially Brian will be proud of the action i have decided to take. i cannot do violence against him. Not any kind of violence at all, and that includes ignoring him and reporting him, and it obviously includes abusing him. "Why?" You ask? Brian will tell you it's the Christ-like thing to do, as will anyone with Courtesy, regardless of religion. Why can't i wish him violence? After all, didn't he deceive me? Didn't he willfully give me something he knew would do me harm? Did he not trick me into something i told him explicitly that i didn't want? Yes. Yes, to all of the above.
The important part of all this comes in here:
That means he's sicker than i am.
The spirituality i embrace is closest to Zen, if you had to pin it with a pigeon-holed religion. Zen has no scripture, no strict worship practices, and no hymnal, and so it is a difficult religion to recognize. I believe more than Zen, though; i believe that Jesus of Nazareth was an exceptional man; i believe that The Buddha was a wise and enlightened figure. i believe in the just and strict reciprocity of Islam, and the slow, graceful reciprocity of Judaism. i believe that every living thing is sacred, and that we have an obligation to be guardians of the Earth, life, and each other; like so many Native Americans do. i believe the spirits of our ancestors and our departed beloved try to lovingly guide and weather our lives with us every day, as the Wiccans do. Formally, the name of my religion is probably "Orthodox Eclectic." However, anyone who knows me well at all can say that i try as best i can, to live by Courtesy. In this case, Courtesy says i must turn the other cheek and help my brother, who i am in a position to give a hand up to. So instead of sending him to a reformatory, or suing the food out of his mouth and the clothes off his back, instead of waiting for him in the dark parking lot some night, i'm going to embrace him.
This is my goal: By the end of the semester, i will have made a positive difference in his life. By the end of the semester, he'll offer to share a soda with me, and i will know deep in my heart that it's safe to share with him. i will think no ill of him, love him and forgive him like my brother, and by doing so, i can help my brother do the right thing for himself as well. Let it be written here by my hand, and so let it be done.

Following is the letter i have composed for my new friend:

Hey There, **********.

i really don't know how to start this letter, except to say i hope you'll read it with the deepest respect you can find in yourself for me; i'm writing this to you as a man to a man, and i hope you can appreciate that. i need you to do me a favor; and here it is:

Please, please don't give me anything else.
Not ecstasy, not speed, not grass. Don't even give me alcohol. Nothing at all, okay?
Maybe you thought i knew what i was getting into with the soda the other night; maybe you liked me, so you thought you'd let me sample on the house. i didn't know, though. i didn't know and i really didn't need that at all.

i know, it's all business, and you're just providing for people who want what you've got. You probably make a fair amount for yourself by hooking people in, but i need to ask you this, if only for my sake.
i've had problems with drugs, man. My first two and a half years of high school were a long string of sex, drugs and parties, and i loved it.
But i can't do that now. it's done. That's over.
i've dosed on the ecstasy you gave me, and i've realized that if i had that chance to slip back again, i'd still love it today.
That's my problem. i'm in a good, solid relationship, and she doesn't want to see me like that; she really loves me, so she only wants what's best for me, and for my future: a future with both of us in it.
But i'm not very good at resisting temptation, if you get my drift. i've shown that.

For her sake and for mine, i can't go back to doing drugs; i'd lose everything i have now.
There are people who can do drugs recreationally and keep it in check with the rest of their lives, so they still have a handle on their work, school, spouse, whatever; and i know that i'm not one of them, **********; i just have junkie blood in my veins or something, but i know that once i get into a fix, all i care about is where the next one is coming from.
i can't do that any more, **********. i just love her too much to lose her like that. i love my family too much, and deep down, i've got to love myself too much to fall back on drugs.

i need you to do this for me, okay? Do it as a friend. Or at least do it as a man of honor.
Cut me off.
You tell me you've taken licks with the Marines; so i'll ask you, as an honorable man, to respect me enough to turn me down, even though the money's good and even though i beg you for it.
Please, think of this letter if i ever do. You seem like a good guy; someone who's fun to be around, and i'd like to get to know you better. i think we could be good friends, and i'd like that.
i hope that we can make that happen, you and i, and still keep me on track, so if you're willing, i'll ask for your friendship, and just as importantly, for your help.
Those who love me the most will thank you.


Courtesy,

Liam Powers
Cell: 821-2424

- posted by Third @ 1:43 AM (0) comments

 
GOD i'm SO STUPID!!

Oh god i'm the biggest fool ever.

Ok, i give this guy a ride home from Acting 300 today earlier; and halfway to his house; he starts asking me if i'm into drugs... And of course i'm all "No, i stopped because i'm in a serious relationship and she doesn't want me hurting myself" So he's all "okay, that's totally cool, i understand totally" and he's being totally cool about it. You ready for the stupid part now?
[Currently approving audience:] "Yeah, what's the prob? Good job!"
He's also in my Japanese class at 7, and he sits next to me, and i'm like okay; that's cool, i guess we're sort of friends now. and halfway through he passes me this note like "i can give you a really good deal on some INCREDIBLE ecstacy." And again i'm all "No, man. Sorry; and a year ago, i'd have loved to, but my girl comes first." and he's all cool again
[ENTER LIAM BEING STUPID]
At break he gets himself a mountain dew.
After class, we talk a little about the Dio show that on saturday; since he's a concert bouncer, and he's all "i have three free tickets, if you can get time off of work." So i get his number. STUPID.
As we part ways he's all "Hey, i'm not going to finish this, you want it?" and offers the rest of his Mountain Dew. I'm an idiot, so i took it. He gets this grin and he's all "Well, you've got my number if you want to call me." i'm dumb, so i think he's talking about the tickets.
[Disapproving Wise Audience:] ~Shakes head~
[Little Girl in the front row:] "DON'T TAKE IT SUSHI! IT'S NO GOOD!"
[Imminently and Eminently Stupid Liam:] "Of course, it's still kind of muggy out! i sip on the way home!"

i'm laying of the floor now, loving how typing sounds, and grinding the hell out of my teeth and blinking because it feels so good.

yell at me please.
be very dissapointed and pissed off. Maybe it won't feel good.

GOD i'm SO STUPID!!

Courtesy for everyone but me and dickwad,

Sushi.

Update: Dana rules for staying up with me! She rules foreva now!!
Also, in the perfectly quaint and wise words of my buddy Kyle:

KyleE YV: it's unfortunate you can't get away with violence against him.
- posted by Third @ 10:44 PM (0) comments

 
There are some nights i feel like i didn't get over all the stuff i put in me. By that i man ALL of it; not just the chemicals, but the music; the emotion; the fiction and the prose. Nights when you look around on the freeway and suddenly you're doing ninety miles an hour and asking yourself "Where the hell AM i?" Usually this happens to me at night; and i think it's something to do with a combination of dusk, music and having all the windows down in the car. Nights when trees look like smoke and signs look like people and you get off the freeway wondering what burned down, and thinking what a stupid place that is for that guy to stand. Nights when you tear up driving past the Wonderbread factory, because it just smells so RIGHT. The sort of nights when you get that creepy sensation that you're just a spectator for a while; watching a movie of someone else living the life you thought was yours. The disconnected feeling that if the car ahead of you stopped, and there was some huge pileup, it'd all just be an exercise, and you'd get another shot at it tomorrow. That sort of night when you lie on your floor, talking on the phone and slowly teach yourself synesthesia. These are the kind of nights that make me crave shirts from Goth 'n Go; specifically the one (Black, naturally) that proclaims in simple, plain but bitingly satirical letters: "Role Model."


Cwruidth is a sporadic columnist for The White Room; often contributing his opinions and personal pieces in stream of consciousness prose. Other contributions include "Just What the Hell is Morality?" "Who Told These People They Could Leave Their Homes?" and "Oh SH*T! What time is it?" and can be found on The Razorclown's "Delerium…" and "The Knoll Blog." He is happily involved with his high school sweetheart, a budding artist, and lives with his family in Sacramento, CA.

- posted by Third @ 9:58 PM (0) comments

 
i'm not much one for dancing, but what i wouldn't give for a late night dance with her.
i like to look at the moon and know it's the same moon she sees when she looks into the night sky.

So i saw Garrison Keillor. That was cool, except i missed a bunch of calls, since it went from 8 to 11.
Grrr.

Oh well.

More later.

Courtesy,

Sushi


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And this article just rocks:
http://www.theonion.com/onion3921/manic_depressive_friend.html
- posted by Third @ 1:10 AM (0) comments