Friday, October 12, 2012

Anathema: A multimedia novella

Part I

It’s been almost a year since the last time I shared your bed. I remember laying on my side; both of us exhausted of accusations from the two week argument and just watching your face. I tattooed every detail onto my memory. I remember thinking, “this is the last time I’m going to see the love of my life.” Again, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back…

The dolphin’s cry-Live

We met through mutual friends on Myspace and, though we’d never met face to face, you remained my absolute favorite person. I’d always loved you from afar. We were always seeing someone else and when we weren’t, we were absolutely fucked from when life took its toll. I got herpes; you had your own sacred scar. Even though we’d go for months without speaking, we could sense when the other was suffering and pick them up when no one else seemed to give a damn.

I began to experience professional and artistic successes. Life finally seemed to fall into place. But I didn’t have what I truly desired. I didn’t have you. Finally, I made the most terrifying proclamation of my life.


To my astonishment, you reciprocated. I got to see the side of you I’d longed for ever since we’d met four years prior. Around this time I was also accepted into a film school. We began to plan our relationship around this; giving us each the time we’d needed in order to attain the strength needed in order to make something this important work. Then it fell through after I’d already quit and decided to move in with you right off the bat. Mom encouraged me to visit you before I did anything too rash. The next morning I was on my way to Tennessee.

Sunsets and car crashes-The Spill Canvas

It was the absolute best week of my life, but it wasn’t meant to last.


It took selling almost all my possessions and left a lot of business unfinished, but I made my way and took my rightful place at your side. Unfortunately I managed to smuggle all my baggage and flaws along with me, which slowly tore down everything we’d worked so hard to build.

It’s not a bad little war-Bayside

Part II

Hands open-Snow Patrol

The afterglow of being together started to fade quickly when the reality of our actions set in. Financial woes, my vices and you not being completely ready for a full time commitment lead to an argument which never actually ended.

Over the next six months our bond degenerated rapidly. I know you’d tell people I broke your trust and I can’t deny this. However, I endured more callous actions from you on a daily basis than you did during our entire relationship, but I shouldered the infractions because I felt what we had was worthwhile. The truth is you pushed me away from the instant I moved there and didn’t have the guts to be honest with me about your feelings in anything other than shouting or passive aggressive comments. So, I allowed you to play the victim.

You ended it on an anniversary which said more than you ever could with those insults and accusations. After I’d already quit my job and prepared for the trek back to Texas, you convinced me to go with you to South Carolina for the worst trip of my life. Three days after we got back communication broke down even further and we eventually said our goodbyes, after which I climbed into my car and retreated to my mother’s house.

Rusted from the rain-Billy Talent

For the next several weeks I languished in that upstairs bedroom. Finally, it became too much to bear and I wanted to die almost as much as I still longed to be with you. Around this time mom’s house was broken into and I lost almost every material possession I held dear.

As I sifted through the remnants of my life I came across the writing supplies I had bought on a trip with you to Wal-Mart. Desperate for solace; I picked up a pen, put it to paper and began the healing process.

Garden Statement-Hidden in Plain View 

Part III

The Diary-Hollywood Undead

The suicide scare put me at odds with my mom and step dad, so I started making plans to stay with someone else.  On my last night there I took a package of note cards and started on a complete rewrite of Scattered Thoughts.  I packed up all the belongings I deemed crucial to my artistic success and left for my aunt’s before her or Jeff got home.  I stayed with her for two days and on the second one, I completed the newly titled My time in Hell and other whimsical tales.

Mom was putting pressure on me to get myself checked back into the hospital, but the fact was finishing the book was the best therapy I could have gotten.  The next day I moved in with my cousin, Christy and stayed in the room I grew up in, along with a whole new set of triggers.  You haunted my every thought and each time I closed my eyes there you were to make sleep impossible.  To make matters worse, everyone I’d left behind six months prior were not shy about letting me know just how angry with me they were.

To get out of the house I’d hit up a Starbucks nearby and started the task of sending out query letters in the hopes some agent would take me on and finally get me published.  They didn’t.

But I wouldn’t be discouraged and started brainstorming how to go about writing the next chapter.  For the better part of a year I’d planned a book dedicated to you and the life we were going to build together, though now it didn’t seem appropriate.  Inspiration finally struck when I was smoking out with an old co-worker.

While in Tennessee I came up with this idea to do a horror story dealing with the supernatural and which was handwritten in a journal.  The plan was to use some of my own stories as the foundation on which I’d build the narrative.  Instead, I merged it with the story of us and I’ve no reason to dream… became what it is today.  After a week of locking myself into that room and working constantly; it was finished.  That’s when I bought a new journal and started all over again.

Jump on my shoulders-Awolnation

Something I don’t talk much about is that during this time I was locked in battle with things most people wouldn’t believe.  There was something after me and it fought fucking dirty.  The closer I became to finishing the book; the angrier The Beast would get and my mental state was growing increasingly unstable.

Mom got me a job in the kitchen of the nursing home where she works and I began an ill advised romantic relationship; though the latter dissolved as abruptly as it had started.  I also found out from a mutual friend just how much you came to Hate me; even going so far as to demand my name not be said while in your presence.  It hurt more than I was prepared for and I spiraled further into self destruction.
In January of this year my car was repossessed and I became even more isolated as a result. I took all the anger, frustration and depression and pored them out onto the page.  Before I knew it, my work was finished and the demon defeated.  I had somehow managed to exorcise it and now it remains trapped within the tome.  In truth, I don’t like to touch it unless absolutely necessary.

This is when things turned around as much as I’d be allowed.  I self published My time in Hell…, though it was met with minimal interest.  An old flame from my past came back and as we talked I let myself believe my feelings were stronger than they were in order to get over you.  My cousin and I got into a massive fight which all but left me homeless.  So, exactly a year after moving to be with you, I hopped on a bus to South Carolina to see where this next romantic endeavor would lead.  The one thought I couldn’t shake on the 25 hour ride was that it was cheapening everything I did so we could be together.

Between you and I-Every Avenue


Part IV


By the time I arrived in SC I was exhausted, starving and anxious.  Jackie was thirty minutes late picking me up and I was dying for a cigarette, but had to fight the temptation because it was something she hated.  It all comes back to patterns, right?  After a quick lunch she took me to Jonathan’s where I showered and waited for her to come back.  Did I mention she was married, which would make pursuing any kind of healthy relationship damn near impossible?

But I stuck it out and for the first week or so things were going great, though it was not something we could keep up for much longer.  I started to apply for all the retail jobs I could walk to and tried my best to remain optimistic about the whole process.  She slowly started cancelling plans, and when she didn’t they ended up making me miserable, anyways.  The beauty of being wrapped up in the Hell of dating a selfish, borderline sociopathic woman is that it kept my mind off of you; at least until late one night I read your blog.  Reading everything you’ve been through made me hate myself for not being at your side when you needed it the most.  Then, I was taken aback by the things you said about me and responded with an assault of my own.

Keep yourself warm-Frightened Rabbit

Before too long I started working at Wal-Mart, which quickly became the worst job I’ve ever had.  This, mixed with sleeping on a couch and dealing with Jackie’s increasingly neurotic bullshit meant I was desperately searching for anything positive to take my mind of things and I was fortunate to come across two.  The first started with an anonymous comment from someone on Tumblr.  After corresponding with this person like this for awhile, she eventually introduced herself.  Micky became the dear friend I desperately needed.  The second was when I hooked back up with some old friends.  Larry, Kat and I started Group Therapy, giving each of us an artistic outlet.

Things with Jackie, at least when I saw her, became increasingly worse and it was becoming more than I could take.  I began talking with Micky more and more frequently and she helped me find the strength I needed in order to do what I’d been wanting for awhile at that point.  Released from her baggage, Micky and I started revealing the feelings for each other which had started to blossom.  Immediately, we plunged into a full fledged long distance relationship.  This was the beginning of the best times I’ve had since I left your side.


After a month of intense conversations, Micky finally came for a visit and it was the beginning of the end.  She picked me up from work and, after a shower, we headed to a Group Therapy session.  This was the night when I realized my friends weren’t who I thought they were and started losing interest in what we’d been working on.  The next day her and I checked into a hotel room and spent the next two days ignoring the world outside its walls.  While there I could tell she had bitten off more than she could chew by pursuing me and didn’t have it in her to keep going.  She proved this by breaking up with me on her drive back home.  And so, I spiraled back into depression.

For a variety of reasons, I started hating hanging out with Larry and Kat.  This mixed with a feeling of hopelessness concerning my craft led to my decision to retire from writing.  I then filmed my final performance and haven’t been back since.

I’d also put in my two weeks notice to Wal-Mart and started making plans to do something different.  A week later I had a nervous breakdown and walked.

I’ve spent the month and change sinking deeper into despair and wanting to act upon my darker impulses.  I discovered that when my mind wasn’t preoccupied with other things, it would always bring its focus back to you.  I then found I still had much more to say.

Justify-The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

But I couldn’t manage anything more than a piece or two dedicated to you.  I was sitting on the back porch one day with a lighter and some of my handwritten pieces.  The words scrawled upon the pages proved painful and I sought out to destroy them.  However, it instead sparked my imagination and I started writing my final book, which is drawing close to its completion.

I was working on it last week when I’d started the pages dedicated to you lacking the materials I’d needed to complete them.  This is when I started torturing myself with emails and photos we’d exchanged.  Before long I came to the last words, which were laced with venom and have haunted me ever since.  And, just like that, I shed the last tears I’d ever cry for you and collected them onto the pages.

Hard to say-The Used

Which brings us to the now.  Today is September 27 and three hours ago was exactly a year since the last time I’d seen your face.  I wish I could be strong about this and tell you I’ve gotten over you, even slightly, though lying is what got me into this mess to begin with.  I miss you and think about you ever day.  In less than a week I’ll be back in Texas with all it implies.  I didn’t want any of this and I hope more than anything you’re happy and, if not that, then at least okay.  And I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have never stopped loving you.  But now I can’t allow myself to keep going back to the “what ifs” or “could have beens”.  It’s just too painful.  I need to let you go, because where I’m headed is not a place I would like you to see.  I’ve already hurt you enough as it is.

Goodbye Ana.

Brothers on a hotel bed-Deathcab for Cutie


Wednesday, February 9, 2011

I've just found myself fascinated by Domino's pizza tracker.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Now, that's just nasty.

I take song lyrics pretty seriously.  In fact, I spend several hours a week perusing (the real definition) through them on sites I find on the internet.  The really good ones will have a link to a player, that way you can read the words along with the audio.

But there's one site in particular which really pisses me off.  The second the page loads, another player automatically pops up and my ears are filled with the irritating distraction of a commercial.  The particular advertisement I am forced to endure until I can scroll down to find the mute button?  Dannon's Activia brand of yogurt.

When I look up a song, I'm in a particular state of mind and I want to savor it as long as possible.  Hearing about a cup containing the bacterial fermentation of milk which is miraculously able to keep Jamie Lee Curtis regular ruins the whole experience for me.

Seriously, Jamie, first Beverly Hills Chihuahua and now this?  You were in Halloween, for Christ's sake.  Show some goddamned self respect.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Yeah, they're the fags.

I found this comment on a youtube video detailing the old ICP/Eminem feud.

"fuck icp those punkass bitches u 2 for posting this gay shit u fuckin faggot. go eat a dick and get it up tha butt fag."

No capital letters
1 number posing as a word.
1 letter posing as a word.
16 out of the 24 actual (barley counting "tha") words are either swears, homophobic slurs or violent instructions on what to do with dicks and butts.

This dude is seriously conflicted.