Director of Damnation

Subject:	Random Thoughts
Time:	1:57 am.
Music:	Billy Currington - People Are Crazy (Closed-Captioned).

Charlotte cost me $200. All of the other girls were pissed off about it, as this was more combined than all of them brought in.

It's a fucked up world, when you have to schedule your own ass chewings.

The hot barber chick and Calvin (her boyfriend) know just about everybody around. This was proven when it turns out that they know who (Drunken driving, just got out of Jail) Shonna is. Have some amount of animosity towards her. Wh'ev. I don't involve myself in the beefs of others.

Really, some people should start being far more selective about the people they spend their time on.

I had bad ass hair today. Pics will follow eventually.

It really sorta figures that I gather a circle of friends right before I'm about to leave town. Hmmph.

My apartment is clean. It looks nice. Why don't I do this more often?

I need something good to tattoo on the inside of my lip. Actually I really need to find a good tattoo artist in Colorado and send out some emails so I can make sure to get what I want when I'm on leave. Anyone know any Tattoo artists in Colorado?

1 stroke Stroke my ego.

Subject:	The battle is won...
Time:	1:17 am.
Music:	The Killers - All These Things That I've Done.

A friend earlier this evening told me I need to stop moping around, and if I want to change my life, then to go and change it. *L* I've given that advice to others often. And I know that it's not simply that easy, but that the point of such advice is to simplify it to the point that it's understood that action of any time is better than inaction, as least as far as it comes to change, especially forced change. Mopey... I don't konw that that's the right term. Lord knows, for a mopey person, I sure spend a lot of time hanging out and socializing.

Sure when I'm at home, I contemplate the future and where it's going, and I think about the fact that althouh I never wanted to be here, there's going to be things I miss aobut Groton, CT. And that I'm going to miss being able to djust drive and get away from it all, have thousands of square miles of space to roam through on foot or wheel. I think about the fact, that my apartment's pretty lonely most of the time.. I think about the fact that being a Nuke is all I know how to do.

None of these are my concerns when I'm out at the bar or wandering around the mall.

2 strokes Stroke my ego.

Subject:	Drifted
Time:	11:20 pm.
Music:	Sum 41 - The Hell Song.

I went to see the Eng's bands final hoorah tonight. It's onte thing to feel alone and peaceful in your own apartment surrounded by your stuff, and it's another thing to feel alone and disconnected when surorunded by people you know, by people you can't really connect with. It doesn't help that while I was at home in my space, I went back to rereading my journals, and I wandered into the Kit section. I wonder what it says that I tend to think of eras in my lives by the girls that were important in them. Kit's era was a bit longer than I seemed to remember, although it went down hill quickly from what I can tell. i feel like I' have seventy five percent of the pieces, but the last twenty five percent are what really tells the stoy. I don't know. Kit's also been on my mind because of the upcoming move to Hawaii. I keep wondering what I'd do if I ran into her. Walk away, most likely.

I don't seem to have the drive to fight for anything anymore.

Why do things that matter most,
never end up cutting close?

Stroke my ego.

Subject:	When will the banners and the victory parade celebrate the day a better world was won?
Time:	3:14 am.
Music:	VNV Nation - Sentinal.

So my work life might be falling apart, but my home life is on the upswing. Yesterday the new VNV Nation "Of Faith, Power, and Glory" dropped and it is quite bad ass. Then I spent the evening out with a bunch of friends I made through the hot barber chick. The hot barber chick's sister, Charlotte and I at one point, at the Hibachi place, had a ninja battle with chopsticks. My reach proved superior, but my weapon broke, and I was thus handicapped. It was a good time. Then we hung out in a parking lot, chowed down on cartons of ice cream, and then at midnights saw Transformers 2: Rise of the Fallen.

All in all a helluva night.

Tomorrow night (tonight, really), there's a wet T-shirt contest at Legends. So... boobies! Whooo!

Stroke my ego.

Subject:	But each time we talk, it's the same old thing...
Time:	8:21 pm.
Music:	Keep Your Hands to Yourself - The Georgia Satellites.

EDIT: Panera died on me so this is posted a day late

So, I've spent the last few days being social. It's a weird thing for me to do, but I figure it's better than sitting at home alone doing nothing. Especially since my main source of internet now involves sitting outside of Panera bread stealing WiFi. Even at eleven o' clock at night. It's not an addiction, I swear!

So yeah. Friday night, I went out and visited a friend in Rhode Island. On my way back from the club I decided that driving an hour wasn't going to happen, and that I should pull off the highway and find a parking lot. Of course first I found a Panera and checked my email. Then I found a dark parking lot and pulled in. Just as a cop pulled in. So i pulled out, went to the next parking lot up, drove through it, and then headed back to the original dark parking lot. But then the cop pulled me over. Started asking me repetitive, ridiculous questions. Then he finally got to the point and asked me if I had been drinking. Afterwards I slept in the parking lot till like seven. Then I went another twenty minutes down the road, and slept in a truck stop parking lot for about an hour before an attendant told me I wasn't allowed to do that. Dicked around for a few hours, and then went to Dani's birthday party at Legends.

Met a bunch of people. Attractive female people, at that, including Dani's sister Charlotte, Stephanie, and Amber. So it was good. Bought a round of shots sang some karaoke. I sang Keep your Hands To Yourself by the Georgia Satellites. I enjoyed myself.

Work today with a petulant Egyptian brat who hasn't quite figured out that he's in the military yet. I try not to be too harsh knowing my position, but damn I wanna stab that guy sometimes. Oh well. I got out early enough to hop in the shower and then head to Dani's second birthday party, this one for the underage kiddies. Hung out in the hot tub, met more people, spent time actually talking to more people, and now I'm back in front of Panera, stealing WiFi. Hopefully, my internet shows up tomorrow.

Either way though, I'm going to a Midnight showing of Transformers 2 with the same group of people. And I have new phone numbers. Wheeee.

Social ain't really my milieu but I'm enjoying myself.

Stroke my ego.

Subject:	Soon Enough (Fiction)
Time:	7:42 pm.
Music:	The End (Bonus Track) - Blue October.

I heard the click of her boots on the asphalt before I saw her. That was the point, really. I mean, why else would I be sequestered in the corner between the wall and dumpster. I was suprised when she didn't even catch me out of the corner of her eye though. My black hoody and orange jean shorts didn't exactly blend in. I guess she'd calmed down a bit since I last saw her. This was probably a bad decision on her part.

I pushed myself off the wall, and planted myself in the center of the alley, hands in my pockets, and wild grin on my face. "Hey there, gorgeous."

She spun around immediately, eyes opening wide and mouth hanging open. "Max. What... what are you doing here?"

I looked off into the distance above her head. "You know how much I love the mountains. I missed them." My eyes cut back down to her chest. "Of course, some peaks I love more than others." I licked my lips.

She tightened her thigh length, rib knit, black sweater coat around her ample buson and crossed her arms. "You can't be here!"

"I can't?" I looked first to one side, then the other, and even behind me, before turning back to look at her. "It looks like I can."

She leaned forward slightly on the balls of her feet. "Because -"

I cut her off, because her finishing the sentence would've just made me mad. Mad would've made me sloppy. I couldn't afford sloppy. "Looks like someone doesn't pay attention to the date very well, huh?" She kept staring at me, though she brought her watch up to her face. Finally, she gathered the courage for her eyes to dart down to it. She didn't like what she saw there.

"Max. You can't be here. You can't..." I took a step forward. She took a step back. "Max. No. This... I have a boyfriend now."

My laughter was harsh as it echoed down the alley. "Like you had the first time we fooled around? Or how about like you had during most of the three years we were together? Matt, Tom, Jim, Riley... heck, you had a couple of girlfriends, too, didn't you? Why should it matter?"

"It's not like that anymore, Max. It's... after you... after we... you know, the -"

"I know very well what happened, Gwen. I was there. I was the one dragged off by the fuckin' gestapo, and shoved into the drunk tank. Don't think you have to remind me about THAT." My voice deppened into a rough growl, and in my pocket my hand curled around the hard plastic grip.

"Max, stop. You're scaring me. You have to go. Now. You can't be here. If you go now, I won't say anything but you're scaring me, Max, and I'm don't want to be scared anymore."

"You don't, huh? Well. I can promise you that I won't be scaring you any more, soon enough." I gave her just enough time to start turning that over in her head before I lunged forward quickly, stamping my foot down hard. I was still six feet away, but she spooked and jumped backwards, tripping over the bag of trash behind her. Her immediate reaction was to twist in mid air to catch herself. I smoothly drew the Tazer X26, point indexed her thigh and smoothly pulled the trigger. She spasmed once, there in the grit and oil of the alley, and I smiled to myself to see it. "Not all high and mighty, are we now, dear?" My grin drew across my face, lips tight and bloodless, as I pulled her to her feet, and ducked under her arm, looking for all the world like a guy helping his drunken ladyfriend to the car. "Soon enough you won't be scared of anything."

2 strokes Stroke my ego.

Subject:	They painted up your secrets with the lies they told to you.
Time:	8:43 pm.
Music:	Acoustic #3 - Goo Goo Dolls.

I'm back. When I get a free moment, the journal will be un-friendslocked. It's been a tumultous month, and I hated some of the things I did to get through it, but hwen it comes down to it there are more important things than pride and personal preference when it comes to how you live your life. This is especially true when dealing with the paranoid and delusional. *shrugs*

I don't htink that many people percieve me the way I want to be percieved, the way I feel I should be percieved, the way I am.

I was going to use this space for something resembling vitriol. But it was a long underway, some of the consequences of actiosn during it are going to royally rock my world, and I don't feel like stealing internet from the Panera Bread anymore.

I love you all, and I'm happy to be back.

Stroke my ego.

Subject:	Say Goodnight
Time:	10:59 pm.
Music:	Chrome - VNV Nation.

"You still do not understand what I am, do you? You cannot kill me.

I am Ti'amat; I am Apophis; I am Leviathan and Zohak and Yamm. I am Typhon and Python and Ladon and Hydra; I am Ananta and Vritra. I am Quetzalcoatl and Kukulkan and Tlenemaw and Uktena. I am Nidhoggy and Jormungandr. I am Satan.

I am the Ouroboros.

I am Heisenberg's uncertainty and Gödel's impcompleteness; I am the second law of thermodynamics. I am the unconscious made conscious; I am the one who shaves the barber; I am Chaos; I am Paradox."

I Am What Is Not.

I Am. I was. I will Be.
This is neither ending nor beginning, because of course, any is either, and both.

Ω∞A

“If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the rest of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders–what would you tell him to do?”

“I…don’t know. What…could he do? What would you tell him?”

“To shrug.”

2 strokes Stroke my ego.

Subject:	Church!
Time:	6:49 am.
Music:	3OH!3 - I'm Not Your Boyfriend, Baby!.

Kill the lights,
These children learn from cigarette burns, fast cars, fast women, and cheap drinks,
It feels right,
All these asphyxiated, self-medicated; take the white pill, you'll feel alright,
Kill the lights

Yesterday I picked up tickets for CombiChrist and VNV Nation. I'd have picked up Warped tickets as well, but I've never seen them sell out, so... not as big of a concern. But year number EIGHT! And my SIXTH venue! I'm pretty much already planning to base my leave exclusively around Warped next year. I'd like to see Manson on Mayhem, but it's not worth it.

I got the VNV Nation box set to wander through, I picked up the new CombiChrist EP, but recently I've been listening the shit out of 3oh!3's album Want. It's just catchy as fuck!

I don't know what I'd do without music. How about you guys? Any shows you're looking forward to? What's playing large on your playlists these days?

10 strokes Stroke my ego.

Subject:	On a more literary bent
Time:	10:58 pm.
Music:	Milcom - Neuropa [thomas jaldemark mix].

"I don't think there is even one monster."
"Not even one?"
"No, " said Carla. "I think everyone has 'good' inside him. Everyone can feel happiness, and sadness and loneliness. But sometimes people think someone's a monster. But that's only because they can't see the 'good' that's there inside him. And then a terrible thing happens."
"They kill him?"
"No, even worse. They call him a monster, and other people start calling him a monster, and everyone treats him like a monster, and then after a while, he starts believing it himself. He thinks he's a monster too. So he acts like one. But he still isn't a monster. He still has lots of good, buried deep inside him."

That's the passage I wanted to quote the other day, when i was trying to explain why i just wrote the story i did. When people call me a monster, I start thinking about being a monster, and then I start thinking like a monster would think, and then once those thoughts get in my head, I have to get them out,a nd the best way I know how to do that is to put them on paper. Not to mention that I have a strict rule about posting about illegal things. That's just asking to get caught. if I was going to do something illegal, why the FUCK would I write about it prior to?

Of course, if you think someone is a creepy fuck with anger issues and an inability to cope, why would you go into his journal and antagonize him? This shit don't make sense, Pete. I think more than anything that's what gets to me. Inconsistencies. I have a really hard time understanding the inconsistencies rampant in this world. For instance, why is there a zebra and a rainbow at the end of the Hot N Cold music video? Or why does the car fly into the sky at the end of Grease?! Okay, so neither of those are legitimate examples. But, like... we were in the reactor compartment one day, and Stimmel had been on a big formality kick recently. But he was cracking on Stein and I, mocking things left and right, and then when Stein asked me where the DSTs were and I responded "your Mom's House!" Stimmel flipped the fuck out. What was that?

I don't think that I'm a saint, by any means, but I try and live what i believe.I and treat those around me the way I want to be treated. I am sorta bothered that gifts I might give are later looked askance upon. In my mind the past and the present are two different places, and just because the now sucks doesn't mean the then wasn't good. I remember spending 3000 minutes on the phone with kit in one month. The fact that shit got tragic (my fault, btw) shortly thereafter doesn't make the conversations we had, any less valid, any less concrete and real, and fuckin' HAPPY.

I've had a story kicking around in my head for a bit, but I don't think that it's coming out tonight.

Finished Downtown Owl by Chuck Klosterman. it's not laugh out loud funny like Sex, Drugs,a nd Cocoa Puffs was, but I liked it. It turned out to be one of those books where you don't know where the story is going until it's over, and then you realize that maybe that the point of the book wasn't to have a plot at all. It's a book about a small little town called Owl, and some of the people who live there. Mitch, a football player that doesn't seem to connect, Horace, a widower that can't conceive of not living in Owl, and some surprising secrets, and Julia, a young teacher who just moved and is learning to cope. You wander in and out of their thoughts over the course of a school year, and you begin to realize that it isn't what's happening next that's important, but how they're interacting with the here and now.

I drew a lot of parallels with a book I read a little bit ago, The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. Both stories use dialogue to drive the readers interest, although Wallflower at least had a romantic subplot that kept me intrigued. There is a girl-meets-boy plot in Downtown Owl but it's never really a driving plot element, as another way to show the mind of Julia Rabia. And really, I think that's what this book excels at. This book very eloquently captures three distinct personalities sand eall their motivations without hitting you over the head with stereotypes and cliche tropes.

Highly recommended.

2 strokes Stroke my ego.

Subject:	Honi soit qui mal y pense (A PSA)
Time:	6:48 am.
Music:	Bob Dylan - It Ain't Me Babe.

If you do not like me, you should not read this journal.

If you do not understand the difference between reality and fiction, you should not read this journal.

If you think that everything in this journal is about you, and your name is not Alex von der Linden, you should not read this journal.

If through mutual acclaim, we have decided that we want nothing to do with one another, or even if YOU have decided that you want nothing to do with me, you should not read this journal.

And if that's too subtle...

Jennifer Hawthorne should not read this journal. Consider this both polite request "Please refrain from reading this journal." and tactless demand. "Don't read my journal anymore." We are quits, and I do not understand why you were here in the first place. Please.

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

7 strokes Stroke my ego.

Subject:	Well, Hello, Mr. Police Officer!
Time:	10:56 pm.
Music:	Breaking Benjamin - Had Enough.

So, I worked from 1500-1800 today. It was an incredibly good morning. I slept a lot of it, I stayed in the sun and read for a lot of it, I watched rRepo! The Genetic Opera. I got my copy of the VNV Nation box set. It was a thoroughly enjoyable morning.

Work was actually pretty fun. We were pretty busy for the entire time, we stopped int he middle for dinner, and by the time we were done, we had accomplished something. It was a good time. I got my eval and that wasn't a good time at all, but that's just a number and I'll do better next time. Or I won't. *shrugs* The retention block was checked, so that's something. Am I disappointed that I only got a promote, and that in all likelihood was the second to last? Hell yeah. But I think I've mentioned in the past that thriving and I aren't really on speaking terms. Surviving on the other hand...

But I leave work and head over to Chili's because I feel like gettin' a burger. I had left my phone in the car because I figured I could do without it for five hours. I forgot about it till I made it to Chili's and was gathering up my things to exit the car. I pushed a button, expecting it to go to the default screen. Nope. Two missed calls and a voicemail. Hmmm. 1 and dial. Punch in passcode. " Yes, this is Officer Nichols from the New London Police department. I'm calling to speak with an Alex von der Lind. If you could call me back at REDACTED sometime this evening, I need to speak to you in regards to an incident. Thank you. Uh, ask for Officer Nichols please." Immediately I get excited. The police are FINALLY calling me about the incident. I start to dial. As I'm dialing my mind keeps working. Wait, why the NEW LONDON police be calling me about the accident? followed by Oh fuck no. She DIDN'T.

She did.

First question "Do you know an uh...". The pause is interminable and i feel like maybe i should supply the name, but I wait as papers are rifled. "Jennifer Hawthorne?"

It degenerated quickly from there. I have little patience for people who cut me off in the middle of a sentence. Especially when they're accusing me of things that are RETARDED. Harassment? Really? HARASSMENT? Does it count as harassment if they come to your journal, read your entries, and then infer that they're being harassed? It seems to me that harassment would involve me trying to interact with them, not the other way around. But apparently she printed off some pages of my journal, and took themd own to the station. "She's not pressing charges but if you continue to go down this path..."

That's about the time I started cursing. I'm all for due respect to those in authority positions, but fuck, if I'm going to let someone tell me that I can't write in my own journal. Hell, I'm seriously trying to figure out what exactly I'd be charged with. Second degree storytelling? Exposition with an intent to define? Really? I mean, REALLY? So that's really how it stands. She's going to continue to read my journal and if she sees things in it she doesn't like than she's going to report me to the cops. It's like I'm having to deal with my stepnun all the fuck over again.

A friend of mine has Luceo non Uro, tattoed on her, which means "I shine, not burn." I'm pretty much the opposite, I think. "You ought to know by now, I'll burn this whole world down." to quote Breaking Benjamin. My past has taught me that I'll do retarded things to get any sort of emotional response, even if it's fear or anger. I'm not playing that this game this time around but I'm not going to censor myself, 'specially in my own damn house. I'm going to continue to write those stories that come into my head, and I'm going to continue to post about those topics that run through my mind. I wonder if she understands that the quickest way to not be featured in my posts would be to leave me the fuck alone?

So,

cynnamynstix's advice still holds true, and in that manner this entry will be friendslocked. I don't like it but *shrugs*

8 strokes Stroke my ego.