| Its not how to succeed in life as it is how to survive the life you have chosen |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 28th, 2007|11:13 pm] |
So, it's been a while since I actually have actively posted.
I guess I have too much to do and not enough time to do it; or I just don't have the patience to write/type anymore.
Fuck me sideways, I'd thought I've never write/type that sentence in my entire life.
I've lost touch with so many people as of late. I still keep in contact with some, but I am not as active as I used to be and that is saying a lot. I just don't know what I should do to keep people I've lost back in my life.
I generally just think no one has time to deal with me and would probably be better off. I don't bring much to the table except the occasional funny one-liner.
The phone works both ways I suppose. But on the same token, no one is blowing up my phone. The number hasn't changed, just the phone.
I guess I should give an update of sorts of what is going on in my routine, yet random life:
- I need a place to live by the time I graduate (God willing) after the Spring 08' semester. Heather and me need to move on our own. I'm getting older and not much wiser, I need to get my life in order I suppose.
-Heather and me are doing good. She is helping me through a lot of shit, especially in my fuckin warped mind. Thank you for asking.
-I'm going through extreme bouts of up-and-down depression. Some days I am alright and others I just want to literally kill myself. I have had episodes of suicidal tendencies when these emotional crashes occur. Have I acted out on any of these? No, but the images are vivid in my mind and holy fuckin hell does it scare me.
-I see an old friend/bio-feedback for my nervousness and anxiety. The sessions go good, but it will take time for me to get the swing of it.
-I have super anger rage moments. Like I literally have fits, the other day I was so mad that my eyes hurt from shaking and the blood boiling inside.
-The anxiety attacks come and go. Earlier this week I had a bad one at work and was sent home early. They love me at Costco, so they didn't fault me for anything. Thank Christ for that, because they pay good.
-Uhmmm. . . thats about it I reckon. |
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| Wow, that long? |
[Apr. 17th, 2007|01:05 am] |
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Oh God, it's been so long. . . so long indeed. I swear on the Holy Mother of Dr. Pepper I will update more now. |
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| Long Road |
[Dec. 2nd, 2006|04:29 pm] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "Long Road"- Pearl Jam | ] |
Yeah, I never update. Never enough time, I miss the days when I had time to do such things as update with obscenely long journal updates and such.
Anyway . . .
Heather is moved in the house. Things are going good, she's keeping me from going totally insane with all the shit thats been happening lately, amazinly. I'm usually a tough one to keep in check with certain things.
I guess the first bit, as some of you may know, my mom has a dangerously high good chance of having M.S. or Multiple Sclerosis. She had an M.R.I. done and her doctor told her it's either that or Alzheimers. But he feels it's more M.S., she goes to a Neurologist the day after Christmas to get the detailed results of the M.R.I. scans. So that's been a rough thing thus far. And my uncle goes this week for a pacemaker and defibulator (sp?). And that one worries me too, I mean it's meant to help his heart, but still scares me though.
And all this shit had me thinking about my dad today. I have to call to check on him. He's actually the healthiest one that I am related to I think. But I still need to check on him though. He's my one concern because I don't see him nor talk to him alot, so if anything is wrong I wouldn't know unless I called to find out you know?
And this M.S. thing bothers the hell out of me, mom is taking it better than I am, or at least she leads me to believe she is taking it better. But she's not one to hide emotions, so I take it as the truth. I know it must have knocked a new perspective into her life, but it also knocked one into me as well. I can't properly explain it to be honest. All I know is, even though the M.S. isn't a death sentence right away, I do accept Death and it can happen at any given moment. So I am trying to view life differently. Not that I am afraid to kick off mind you, I just want to experience things before I expire like 3 month old milk. It is hard to do when you're broke though. I do feel that the rate I am going, I will wake up older and near death and go, "What the fuck happened to the time?"
So, hopefully with me going to DeVry for computers I can make a living and manage to live a decent life and accomplish what I want to accomplish. I just hope I am doing the right thing. I really don't want to wake up and never regain the time I lost.
Life is scary, but whatever, I'll manage, I always do, right?
So that's about it really. Just thankful that Heather is keeping me sane through this long, strange and terrible journey. Christ, I'm exhausted and I need to be at work at 4. Fuck.
-J- |
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| Suck me down, it's time to rock and roll |
[Sep. 12th, 2006|09:18 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Room | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "What I See" - Lacuna Coil | ] |
Where to begin and when to end. Alot has been going on yet nothing of importance that I can recall.
Well, I guess I'll go with my clearest memory, I got to see Rob Zombie/Godsmack on Friday. That was a wicked show, Godsmack played for almost 3 hours. Rob seemed pissed off, I don't blame him, the sound system was fucked up and it didn't help it was at PNC so the sound is shit right there. He seemed a step ahead of the band or something, he vented quite alot, it was humorous. Rob's a class act though, not once was he a dick to the crowd. Sully Erna of Godsmack is my new hero, that dude can play at my house, seriously, he's the coolest fuckin frontman ever. He might come off as a douche or something, but he was a fuckin really cool guy. And I would love just an ounce of, dare I say, positive energy that he gave off. From the guy that growls, "I fuckin hate you!" you couldn't help but to be caught up in his positive energy flow of loving to play in front of people. He genuinely appears to love to perform for people and just loves to be in a band. Sully doesn't appear to be in it for the cash, despite the fact both bands had a crazy ass pyro heavy stage show, Sully is one of those dudes that loves to go to the limit for the fans. And I salute the Boston-accented bastard. Even when two people rushed the stage he was cool with it, he told security to lay off the one guy and let him go back to his seat. And the other dude bumped into the bass player, whose name escapes me, and they didn't stop playing. None of that "We're not gonna p[lay if you can't settle down." shit, they didn't miss a beat. I hope these fuckers roll into town soon, I will plunk down the coin to see Godsmack again. And Rob Zombie of course, it's my second show in 6 months with Rob.
Other than that, I started work at Blockbuster, I like it, it keeps me busy and the people are cool as hell. I'm back at school, no fucking around like I do, this semester will be hardcore, for sure.
Life at home is rough with the kids and the puppy. When one starts, so do the other, so it is a bizarre claustrophobic clusterfuck of barking, yelling and running. Ye Gods is it insane. Work or school can't come fast enough to be honest. Right now though, the dog seems to be mellow. He's on my bed watching t.v., literally, he watches t.v., he's a fuckin freak.
Heather started work this week, she seems to know more than the rest of the employee's there. I tell her she will be the first minimum wage store manager in due time. She is sort of the reluctant leader, she doesn't really want the title of leader, but she has that natural ability to lead and she never takes it upon herself, it just happens that way. But things will work out soon enough.
What else . . . . I'm slowly going insane or just one angry fucker. I dunno, I need to chill out soon though. I am going to pop like a little pimple soon. And the rage filled pus inside will spew all over the mirror of society. God, that's a fucked up analogy.
Anyway, I'm out.
-J- |
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| Repost from Myspace |
[Aug. 17th, 2006|07:33 pm] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  crazy | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | silence. . . . . | ] |
To those who have been wondering where the fuck I have been, and to those that haven't been wondering . . .well fuck you. Anyway, to those that have been wondering, I love you.
See, a recent chain of events has kept me away from the world of AIM and MSN messenger. My only real means of communications have been via Myspace or El Jay (LJ, fucktard). What has happened with me have been strange, sometimes terrible, sometimes wonderfully beautiful. Anyway, to those that care, read on, if you don't care, why the fuck are you reading this in the first place?
I don't know where to start. I guess I'll start about a week or two ago.
I went to NYC for the crazy ass Warriors Scavenger hunt with Darian and Brian. We didn't win, but we still scored some sweet vests regardless, pictures will be taken of said vest very soon when I feel better.
The weekend before that, Heather was here for four great days. I fuckin miss her goddammit. I did get to see her on Saturday night though, granted it was short, but I still got to see her regardless.
My mouth was weird though on this weekend though. I had skin on my wisdom tooth and half a tooth showing. Lovely. Anyway, it got infected, the skin that is, and it caused some pain. Monday comes, I got the fucker yanked out and stitched up. I now sport lovely stitches on my gums and not much else has past these lips food wise. Just alot of ice pops mainly.
Anxiety attacks seem to be the happening thing as of late, it's the new craze, catch it.
Other morning I had a chest pain that woke me up, I really thought it was time to say goodnight and good luck to the people of this world. No really, it was bad, but it passed and I passed out from exhaustion. Throughout the day I had dizziness, chest beating, heart palpitations, fun shit. I go to the e.r. and they tell me it was an anxiety reaction. At least it wasn't anything to nuts, I guess.
This morning I woke up to a strange feeling indeed. It felt when I exhaled that someone squeezed my lungs until they ran out of air then I was allowed to breathe again. Fuckin WEIRD. Scary to boot! But that kinda passed as time went on. Today though, my stomach has been out of whack, chest is TIGHT, mouth still bugging the fuck out of me and dizzy spells off and on.
So if you're wondering where I have been, there you go. Things this month started out really good then they just kinda went downhill. So, there you have it, a good month turned into a strange, terrible state of affairs with my general health. Go me.
Of course, people can always text me or something. Check up on the Kid and see how he is doing. Or send a sexy message on here. Whichever.
Oh, on a lighter note, I'm awaiting word on when i can work at Blockbuster again. Pay is crap, but it's more than I make now.
But yeah, I'm alive. Woo!
And Heather rules.
Sho' nuff.
Mahalo
-J- |
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| Oxygen masks and anxiety attacks |
[Jun. 7th, 2006|11:44 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | room | ] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  drained | ] |
Where does one begin?
Well from the beginning right?
Friday, I had a mild panic attack, nothing major. But then it turned into something worse and my heart did not feel right. It was like when you wake up and your hands are all weird feeling, like the muscle is weak, well thats how my heart felt. So I went to the e.r. and sure as shit I had a bad anxiety attack with a benign heart palpitation. From then on in my breathing was weird as shit. Heavy at times and then not, the attacks came and went all weekend. Like a demented wave of sorts. But Monday my lips felt tingly and my face has a pins and needles, then my lips contorted in a wierd way and I couldn't talk much. So it went away after a few minutes. Monday night I do believe, I had a REALLY bad attack where I was sweating and shit. Tuesday I went to see our biofeedback friend John, and it went good. I did the techniques he taught me and my nervous levels went down easy and steady. So I thought maybe I was ok. He did tell me I need to go on paxil, which I'm not thrilled with but I've known John since I was 4, so I trust his judgment.
I had a mild one last night but it didn't hit me that bad.
Today though. . .
I had one so bad the muscles in my face contorted and I couldnt talk. Like my lips frowned and scrunched like I was goin to kiss someone but I couldnt move them. And the infamous pins and needles down my entire body, high blood pressure . . well for me that is, hyperventilating, the whole nine. I drove myself which was dumb of me, but I refused an ambulance. And they had to strap an oxygen mask on, no oxygen but the mask helps control the breathing. And they gave me a shot of adamen(spelling?), in my ass no less, which is a heavy duty tranquilizer. Then Darian and Brian(thank God they were around) came and got me and the car since I was so fuckin stubborn and refused an ambulance. So, it was a fun fuckin day.
I sit here and type this with the oxygen mask still strapped on me, it really does help the breathing somehow.
I'm very tired though, oh so tired. I don't know what to do. I'm just hoping the sessions with John can help me out. I am just in a bad way here.
So, to those I haven't talk to in a while, there is your reason why I have been M.I.A. So, leave love if you choose to do so.
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| Falling off a bridge and Bill Paxton |
[May. 29th, 2006|07:18 pm] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| | weird | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "Death Is In Love With Us"-H.I.M. | ] |
Yeah, so I had the strangest fuckin dream ever earlier today. I was up for a little while today, about 4 hours or so and I fell asleep again around 1 or so. Then while I was enjoying a nice slumber, I had the WEIRDEST dream.
I was driving, where I was going, I do not know, but I decided to take a shortcut. I was on Mantoloking Road in in Brick and I was on the bridge. The bridge was partially blocked off but no signs said so, and cars were swerving around me and cars behind me were cutting me off because I didn't know what to do. So, next thing I know, I get ran off the bridge by someone and the car falls in the water with me in it. I managed to save my monkey ass and for some reason a Radio Disney cd. I really don't know the significance of that one. I escape and for some reason there is a large area under the bridge were people are hanging out. Here is where it gets slightly wonky.
I crawl up on this area and no one pays mind to the spectacle except two people, actor Bill Paxton and his wife. Do not ask me why, but he was there. And he's like, "Wow, are you ok?" and I go, "Hey. Bill Paxton alright, you're awesome actor!" to which confused him and he's like, "Hey man, are you SURE you're ok?" and I go, "Fuck yeah man! You're Bill Paxton! Dude! Do the line from Aliens! I enjoyed Fraility, are you going to direct anytime soon?" and poor Bill is like "Wow, this kid is in bad shape."
So, Bill and his kind wife, I think she was blonde for some reason, drove me home and they stayed for a little bit. To make sure I will be ok and what not. And I sat there profusely apologizing to everyone and everything in the house. Then I started to cry, so my mom walks over, gives me a hug and a blue stuffed bear. So, Bill decided it was time to leave and we walked him out and thanked him and the car was in the drive way, spewing water, but it was there! And the inside was bone dry, which was strange. Because I remember seeing the car actually sink with the doors wide open and the lights dimming out as it sank to the bottom. And I specifically remember telling Joe, "Game over man! Game over! That thing is sunk to the bottom!" So who the hell knows how it got to the surface again.
And then I woke up to the cat scratching litter in the cat box.
The dream was absurdly vivid and real, complete with camera angles.
Woo, I need help.
Thanks for reading, if you made it this far.
And if Bill Paxton reads this, thanks for saving me!
-Josh- |
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| well sweet little sista's high in hell cheat'n on a halo |
[May. 27th, 2006|11:16 pm] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  amused | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | Some Judas Priest thing on tv | ] |
Yeah I've been a bastard with updating it seems. I seemed to have lost the desire and drive to update as often as I would like to apparently.
I don't get out that much it seems. I mean I do get to hang out with Darian and Brian but above that I don't get out much. I tell ya folks that generally after 6 I am free now that school is out . . for. . .summah! Schooooools out. . . . .fo-EVAH!
Anyway.
I think I want to share my insane idea. I've talked to some people about it and GODDAMMIT no one takes me FUCKIN seriously!
So I want to start a band, ESPECIALLY after seeing Rob Zombie. I KNOW I can be that kind of an entertainer. That man is the definitive entertainer, no doubt.
Here is my strange idea for a band. Well, here is the story at least.
One Saturday night, I was home, as usual, and I was watching "Headbanger's Ball." And there was a band on, I forgot the name off hand. But they were these big, older looking guys with long hair and what not. These fine men screamed in the camera's face and made all kinds of angry faces. And the song had alot of "Ye's," "Thou" and what not. So, my mind was in rapid-fire mode and I think I was talking to Heather at the time. I go, "Ya know, these motherfuckers were probably D&D playing jackasses that got mad they got picked on so they got jacked up on steroids and started a band. And the songs are about D&D but no one knows it." And then I proceed to go, "Ya know, I'll start a hair metal band parody band called 'Dragon Takedown.' And in interviews we'll be like, "We're Dragon Takedown! We TAKEDOWN DRAGONS!" And the interviewer will go, "Well, they're are NO dragons to takedown!" To which we go, " . . . .Because we took em all DOWWWWWWWNNNNN TO THE X-TREEEEMMMMMMMEEE!!!!"
Hearing me do the voice is a sight to behold.
But, I sat on the name and began to like it. Now naturally, the name would garner alot of snickers, not the candy, and some groans. But it can work. It's either that or my monkier of "Razor Blade Dream."
So here is my proposition to you lovely readers.
I want to start a real band and I want to start it before I get too old to do the shit.
Sad to say, I'm not instrument savvy, but I will be learning guitar. . .again. I forgot how to play kind of. But, because of my oh so distinct voice, I would probably be singing. And I have an entire stage show in my head and how I would do things, so like, I need to be the lead singer fellow. I have ALOT of ideas how I would do this and I need it to come to light. I'm just too deep into how I'd do the show that it needs to happen somehow. I'm just ready to say, "Fuck it" and do the shit on my own using audio production programs on the computer and see where it takes me. But I think an actual band would be better off in my humble view.
As far as sound goes. . . .hmm . . . Like, when you listen, you feel kind of uneasy, like you don't know where the hell the band is taking you on a voyage, but it intrigues you. You want to walk down the dark halls and see what the hell is lurking in the shadows. But you know deep down this is not a normal world. You see things of pleasure but also things that can easily kill you.
Ok now for the non-deep definition.
I just want to fuckin rock people's fuckin faces off. I just want to play kickass metal. So, I guess I'll list some of the influences . . .
Rob Zombie/White Zombie (naturally)
H.I.M.
Godsmack
Pantera
NIN
That's pretty much the meat of it. Loud, fast, electronic and melodic music.
And of course classic bands like Black Sabbath, Judas Priest and what not.
I just want to create a kickass band, have a fuckin sweet time and have an eventual stage show, when the band makes the cash, that will leave an impression on people.
I pretty much want a vaudeville act, lol. Burlesque dancers, weird ass movies playing for each song . . . but I don't want it to overbear the band. But enough to give a sweet visual effect. I pretty much want the band and the sideshow acts to be a living, breathing monster from Hell. As a collective, we make this beast and kick the audience's ass with great music and awesome sights.
The question I pose to you though, is. . .who the fuck is with me?
Get back to me. |
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| No one is going to take him |
[May. 26th, 2006|07:09 pm] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  angry | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "Do the Evolution"-Pearl Jam | ] |
So, here I am. Sitting at the desk of doom as per usual. Just doing the usual fuckin overthinking and letting my brain's chain slip which keeps my thoughts in order.
My uncle, who is very dear to me, Uncle Adam that is, is ill pretty much. He has pneumonia(sp?) for 4 months and just got out of the hospital after a week stay for it. They performed an catherization(sp again?) to see what the hell was going on with his heart because he suffered congestive heart failure on top of it all. They said his heart muscle was weak, and it's hereditary, oh fucking joy. All my uncles, aunt and my mom have bum hearts. Hopefully I don't get it, then again my heart does skip like it's going to explode out of my chest sometimes, so who the fuck knows.
Anyway . . . .
He got out of the hospital yesterday and went right to work. His boss is an asshole and refused to pay him so my uncle, being stubborn, went to work anyway. Today he went to a new cardiologist to get the full results of his hospital stay. His heart does have a viral infection. He said it might be going away but he would like to perform a test in a week to see if it is or not. The bad side to this, if it gets worse than better, he will need a pacemaker. If it goes beyond a pacemaker, he is, in a word, fucked. They wouldn't be able to revive him since his heart is so weak if he were to go into cardiac arrest.
I don't think there are any words in the human language to express how angry, depressed, scared and confused I am. Of course, I'm sure he is in worse shape than I amm obviously. But the man is pretty much a father-figure. Fuck, he is more of a father to me than my own father. Even though I have my horrendous father moments, my uncle feels more of a father to me in the long run. He was always there for me at my absolute worse. When I was severely depressed and well, suicidal, he took me in for a month so I could calm down. Shit with my ex stepfather got to point where the doctor's told my mom that I would probably kill myself within in the month if I didn't get out of the house soon. For that, I owe him a debt that is unpayable really. When shit got hairy, he was there. Even though he lives in Florida, he still managed to be there for me.
The past few years we sort of lost touch, it happens though. Relationships never last as strongly as we would like them to be. He was here visiting a week before he went into the hospital. Even though he didn't stay at the house, it was still a breath of fresh air to see him. Like, life was in order again in some weird way, even though it was just the same really. But with him around for a few days, it made life a bit easier to tolerate. It was like the circle was complete, you know? And now, hanging in the balance is his life and death. I pretty much accept death in all it's shapes and forms, it's inevitable, we all die, everyone you know, will die. But I'm at peace with that in a weird way. I can accept the fact I can be dead at anytime. It's losing my uncle I wouldn't be able to accept I don't think though. Not now at least, as selfish as it sounds. Right now, mom and me are so emotionally fragile that a death like this would be total devastation beyond all repair. I may not be able to accept what can happen to him, but I can accept the fact that I will never, ever be the fuckin same.
I just hope to almighty God/Allah/Buddha, that he heals. I seem to have bad luck with Fate and all it's hideous incarnations. I just hope Fate doesn't put the fuck to the family with my uncle. Amazinly, I'm not crying. I shed a tear or two last week when he was in the hospital. But I'm more . . . numb to it. It hit me with such a jolt today when mom told me what happened, that my emotional state went beyond sadness and tears. I just, became emotionally and physically numb.
All I ask is that not one fuckin thing take him away from us. I'm a firm believer in reincarnation, it's the only thing that makes sense to me. But, my uncle is the type that can't be reincarnated as anything but who he is now. He is a very unique and strong individual. If the term, "Bad Motherfucker" was listed in the dictionary, he would be there but on the same token, "Loving Kindness" applies to him as well. Behind the tough exterior, lies a genuine gentle soul. He may argue this point, but it's true. Never will you meet a more generous and caring individual. Kids love him despiute his very intimidating exterior and general mannerisms They can see past the motorcycle, tattoo's and all around big man and see that he is true and pure in his actions.
He is a hero, a father and loving relative. And their isn't a single motherfucker alive in the physical world and in the spiritual world that is going to take him away from me and everyone else. I fuckin refuse to let that happen.
I need sleep, thanks for reading . . . fuck it.
-Josh- |
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| Random quote |
[May. 26th, 2006|01:37 am] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  cold | ] |
"And Shepherds we shall be
For thee, my Lord, for thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee
And teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti." |
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| Re-Post from Myspace Blog, dubbed "Who Am I?" |
[May. 7th, 2006|03:19 am] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  contemplative | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "Vampire Heart"- H.I.M. | ] |
Here we are again, late nights, head full of weirdness, some alcohol in me. Not alot, I'm quite sober, but it's in there regardless. The cats on my lap and she looks very confused at life. Hmm, I can relate.
Anyway, tonight was a busy little night for me. I went to my Hardcore Hero's launch party and finally saw one of my oldest friends, Rick Barry, play tonight.
As I watched Rick play, I bumped into people I knew from school. Quite surreal really. It's just I haven't seen these people in so long, you know?
But, Rick's music touched a chord with me. No pun intended. As I watched Rick play, I glanced at the crowd, dancing madly like they were in a euphoric state of drunkardness and being one with the moment. Quite honestly, as out of rythym as they were, I was kinda jealous. I wish I was in that circle, having a grand old time. And why not? You may ask yourself. Well, Josh is, and always will be, the Outsider. I was never one to conform to anyone. So, as much as I would have loved to have let go and just hop around, it wouldn't be me. I'm more of an observer than anything. So I observed the people dance and sing along to Rick's words and music. I was transfixed at how they let the music course through their veins and soul. Bear with me here a minute.
When I listen to music, generally, I just jerk my foot up and down like a lead singer who keeps in time with the beats and nods his head as well. That's how I listen to music usually. Unless I am in the car, then I'm singing like an idiot and making humorous mannerisms that would confuse many people that witness it. And I am sure the passing cars see this weird looking animal move like a freak in his car and manage to keep it on the road. But back to my point here. I envied those folks, I wish I was able to just hop about and what not. I just woudln't feel right I guess. I dunno, I guess I look too deep into shit like that.
But, I witnessed the people and was in awe. In awe of the power that one holds on that stage on the audience. If someone doesn't get a goddamn jolt from that, I don't know what will. It was strangely beautiful in a way, watching them sing or yell out the lyrics. I hope one day, someone echoes my words, either by poetry, song or story. I would love to hear someone that I don't know, repeat words I have written back to me. And tell me how much it means to them. Fuck, it can be someone I do know. I don't care. I just love making an impact on people's lives with my words or who I am. I don't know why I love to do it. I don't try as hard as I should, but things like that can't be forced, it has to be discovered on one's own.
It's strange how people remember others from long ago. When I ran into a few people I went to school with, they reconized me right away. It took me a moment to remember them, but I did eventually. I just find it weird how, people I never even knew, remember me. Fuck man, I never even went to school all that much! Everyone I bumped into tonight, I knew. Kira, who I knew right away, Matt, who I haven't seen in a long ass time and "Whitey," who pretty much hasn't changed his appearence much it seems, I knew these people. But when I bump into people in stores that remember me and I don't remember them. I feel bad, it's like, what did I do that makes you remember me? I apologize for not remembering some people, it's not so much they didn't make an impact on me. It's just that my memory it terrible.
But I wonder, what do people remember about me from then? They are all very friendly to me, even the one's that made fun of me at one time. It's bullshit really, but bygones be bygones I suppose. I guess the point I'm trying to make is, what was so special about me that I am remembered? I wasn't a star athelete, I wasn't the top actor, I wasn't a musician, I wasn't anything really. I was just some random kid that was absurdly tall, (Even though Matt kicks my ass in that catergory.) I had an absurd amount of move knowledge and I was never in school because I was sick. I wasn't the class clown or anything. I was just Josh. I never really hung out with people outside of school, I was usually outside of the "circles" just milling around, hence my "Outsider" persona.
So, here is what I ask of you people that bother to read my blogs and what not.
What makes me so goddamn remarkable that I am remembered years after I've seen someone or even if I know someone on a regular basis?
This isn't a ploy to boost my ego or any of that shit to make me look good. I am genuinely interested as to what makes Josh . . . well, Josh. What makes me unique? I want to read what others see when they think/talk about me. I've always wanted to know how others percieve me. As much as I don't conform to anyone, I am interested in how they view me. It's weird, I know, just roll with it, ok?
Also, someone give me the exact definition of "I dunno, you're just. . . Josh" What does that mean? And, not the "Well, if I were to tell someone about you, I'd just say they need to know you." Well tell me what it is they need to know about me that I am my own catergory it seems.
Seriously folks, do this for me. I am in a weird state of thought lately. I've lost touched of who I am and I need to find who I am again. If you do this, I will love you forever and I will write each person's name on me somewhere, in full view, like on my arm or something to show my appreciation. Yeah, it's fuckin strange, but it's the best I can think of right now. And I will use a Sharpie as well. And I will do this for a week or so. *Scout's Honor*
Honestly, I really need to know Josh again, please help me jar my memory.
-Josh- |
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| 100 Ways |
[Apr. 29th, 2006|02:57 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | My Room | ] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| | peaceful | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "Go"-Pearl Jam | ] |
Wow. . .
So, the wake was last night. That was single-handedly one of the hardest things I've experienced in a long time. Seeing Darian, Jess, Megan, Andy and Brian in the state they were in broke my heart. Yes, I know, a good friend had passed. But, just seeing the rag tag group, usually always upbeat and never a negative moment, broke my heart. Brian and Andy seemed to make the best of what was there. But when we reached the casket, things took a more quieter, serious tone. Before that though, we watched a very well made and beautiful slideshow showcasing the life of Sam. It was set to music and the pictures garnered alot of smiles and quiet laughter. It's hard to type this right now, to be honest. Thinking back on it all, very hard to do for me. I never knew Sam and I broke down. I'd hate to see the state I would be in if I were friends with her. It's a shame really, anytime she was around Darian's I wasn't around and vice versa. I wish I've had known her, she seemed to be a genuine soul. Pure of heart and she was incredibly beautiful as well.
As I stood, watching the slideshow, I felt incredible guilt. Guilt because I felt like I cheated her out of a wonderful life. Why? I don't know why. I guess because I am 24 and she was only 19. Who says I was any better than her? And she had a 6 month old baby boy. It's hard to see a mother taken away from a child, especially at such a young age, for both of them. I stood there, quietly letting hot tears of guilt, sadness and discontent stream down my face. I glanced to Darian and Jess, then to Andy and Megan. Darian was focused on the slideshow, but Andy would nod to me once in a while. I wasn't sure how long the slideshow was, we stood for almost an hour and the pictures had not repeated themselves. We walked outside to stand in line to view her. The line was out the door, to the street. Simply incredible. Say what you want about the morbidness of funerals, but there is something profoundly strong and awe-inspiring about seeing a mass group of people to pay respects to one life. Just one life that touched so many people's lives. I was awe-struck, I really was. I even ran into someone I who I went to all my years of school with. It surprised the hell out of me. But seeing all these people, some could be bitter enemies for all I know, but that didn't matter. It wasn't about personal strife or anything of that nature. Selfishness and egos are checked at the door. We were there for one person and one person only.
We got back inside of the funeral home. Outside we were talkative and cracked a joke here and there. You know, to break up the thickness in the air. But when we got back in, all humor ceased to exist. We made our way to the door of where Sam's casket was being viewed. I was doing ok at this point. Megan was actually ok, up until we were almost inside. She broke down and had to leave the line. Megan and Sam were good friends, the slideshow had alot of pictures of them together. Megan had drawn a beautiful picture of Sam. The shading, the coloring, it was all perfect. And she did it in no time at all. I was truly amazed. So, we make it inside, and Brian caught up with us again. He had gone in line earlier. He stood by my side, and as I made my way around the corner, I noticed the inside lid of the casket. I quickly looked down and said in a hushed whisper, "The casket is open?" To which Brian replied, "Yeah, yeah it is." I looked to my side and muttered, "Fuck" repeatedly in a rapid manner. Not the thing to say inside a funeral home, I know, but open caskets don't sit well with me. As we made our way up, everyone broke down. This was Jess's first viewing as well. As I neared the casket with Brian, I looked at Sam. In her final resting place, as the phrase goes, and everything drained out of me. My soul, my blood, everything just. . . drained. She didn't have a scratch on her. They said when she was in the accident, something happened to her heart. But there wasn't a scratch, no puffy skin from bruises, nothing. She looked alive to be honest. Sam didn't have the porcelin doll look or anything. The girl looked as if she was sleeping!
I kneeled on the bench, I was actually closer to her than Brian. I didn't really look down, I forgot honestly. My eyes looked at her eyelids, and I expected her eyes to twitch when a light is shined down on them. All I could think was, "She was such a beautiful and pure soul. Why the hell does she get taken away?" I never even knew the girl, but I just knew she was a beautiful soul. I'm not saying this as fluff either, this is straight from my heart here, kids. I heard Brian say, something along the lines of, "You're with God now." Or something to that effect. I just blankly nodded in agreement. Stunned, shocked and most of all, shattered. Brian and me left shortly thereafter. I gave Darian and Andy a hug and parted ways. When I got back to Darians, I went with Brian, I got in my car. As I made the turn out of the street to Darian's, I cried hard. Not just streaming tears, I mean I literally howled like an animal as the tears came down. It either sounded like I had a manical laughter fit or I was in excruciating pain.
I went to the beach on my way home. I needed to hear the sound of the waves to clear my head and refresh my soul. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Either I was still high strung from the evening's events, or I really had a bad vibe. I just couldn't stay long. I walked along the beach, away from the lights of the boardwalk. I was all alone, in the shadows of the shoreline, thinking and walking. I tried to keep my mind occupied by throwing shells back in the ocean. But it was to no avail, something bothered me about being there. So after looking at the fog roll in off the waters, I left. I came home, talked to Heather and some folks online, and went to bed relatively early. Around 3 or so.
I woke up today, at quarter to 7 in the morning to a horrible sound. The sound of thrashing, slamming and loud thuds. I sit up with a jolt and see something flying in the air. The cat was investigating. My first initial reaction before my eyes opened was the cat touched something on the fish tank and electrocuted herself. I was wrong, sort of. My Oscar jumped out of the tank and thrashed around. Then he flopped next to the litter box with a wet, splat. There he laid. Not breathing, not a twitch. I was shaking at this point and sat down and made a low growl like noist in my chest. I laid a t-shirt on it to wrap it up and bury him. But, as I moved the shirt to check on him, he was breathing again! So, I wrapped the t-shirt around him, and he started to flip again, I let out a yelp, it scared me for a second. I gathered him up and put him back in the tank. He is now a proud owner of a 3 inch scar down his side, numerous gashes and a screwed up eye. I noticed a dab of blood on the shirt to boot. He seems to be ok, still shaken up I suppose.
*Quick Update* My uncle has 27% pneumonia covering his lungs, his lungs work at 51% capacity. It's not exactly bad news, but it's not good either. He told my mom this while smoking a cigg bear in mind. That's how he is, always tries to look like he doesn't care, but he does. Even though he really doesn't give a shit, there are points where he gets scared and tries not to show it. So, keep him in your thoughts in hopes the shit doesn't spread more.
God, what a somber entry this has become. Fear not! I have a good story coming up.
I finally got to hang out with Kaity! After almost two years of knowing each other, we finally met in a planned meeting. I ran into her once at Seaside as she worked one night. Didn't know she was there. So this was the first planned meeting that came through. We met at the Toms River Diner for 'tea & bagels,' I drank tea, no bagels were involved, heh. We were both hungry so I had a sandwich and she had chicken fingers which she swears was fish. I don't think it was, but it had a very different flavor. But we had a good time regardless of the questionable food. I had genuine laughs. It was good to laugh and not have it forced. Especially after this strange and menacing week. A good laugh from the heart did me alot of good. Keep this in mind for later.
The meet-up was fairly short, but it was great regardless. We're both nuts in person, so it worked out well. I had a digi cam on me, because I had to document this historical event. Not everyday you meet someone you've known for two years, and know them well, in person. The one picture is pretty funny, it shows how hardcore we both are. Teetch clenched and devil-horns a plenty. Hardcore Icons. So, we soon departed after crazy talks of leather babies and amputee midgets. I got lost on how to get out of the parking lot though, she had to guide me out. Yes, I am that dense.
My mom calls, asking to pick up some things on the way back. So, I said ok. But first I had to get gas. I went to WaWa and got some gas, outrageous prices though. I went to turn the car on and. . . .nothing. The lights and all come on, but the car does NOT start. So, I actually laugh to myself and go, "Ahh, figures with this week." So, the kind kid at the pump was trying to help me figure out what was going on. He had more car knowledge than I did, but not alot. So, I called Joe and asked him whats up. We did a few things he suggested and nothing worked. I was pretty annoyed, frigid cold and shaking. But I wasn't pissed off or freaking out. Hence, why the laughter earlier helped me I feel. If I was in a foul mood, I would have freaked out and yammered in some strange language unknown to our native ears. Joe eventually shows up, with a hammer. He has me turn the keys to start the car, all you hear is a click. He shimmies under the car, I turn and hold the key to the "On" position. Then it fires back to life. He whacked the starter with the hammer. Amazing. Fonzie at it's best there. So, I made my way back home, adrenaline going 2938 mph. Thinking, "This cars gonna shit out again." But, no it didn't. It actually started 3 times when I got home when I tested it.
So that's that pretty much. Its late. I'm tired, but I couldnt sleep until I typed my days events. Sort of like, a confessional. But not really. . . look, just roll with my weird analogy.
Anyway, I need to rest now. I think I have said what I needed to say. . . for now at least.
Mahalo
-J- |
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| Fuck |
[Apr. 25th, 2006|07:03 pm] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| |  sad | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | Silence | ] |
Holy mother of God.
It's only Tuesday and things are fuckin terrible. Spring is always a bad time for some reason with me and people I know.
Yesterday, I woke up, very depressed for some reason. And when I got to class, Brian told me that the mother of Darian's friend's child died in a car wreck yesterday morning. She was very close to everyone from my understanding. Unfortunately, I never met her, and I wish I had met her. The baby wasn't in the car with her, thank God. The baby is 6 months old though. The girl, whose name escapes me, was 19. 19 years old, pretty much a new mother, killed by some old guy in a rental truck. What the fuck?
My first initial thought was, "Holy fuckin shit. . . " and then I was ok a little while afterwards. But, when I took a walk, things sank in, and hard I might add. I was thinking, "Holy fuck, that could have been me." Because it was on Fischer Blvd and I reckon I'm on that road going to school. And then I'm like "That could have been me, but no, a young mother is taken away instead. Where the fuck does that make sense?" If this is a part of God's Plan, I don't want any fuckin part of it. So, that bothered the fuck out of me, still is bothering me as I type these words out.
Then, Caity is moving to Florida for 6 months. That kinda felt like a punch to the gut. I mean, it's only 6 months and she has to do what she has to do, who am I to stop her? But, I dunno, Caity is one of the closest friends I have, and it just hit me wrong at the time. And at first I was like "Aw man" then it hit me, as it always does, and I cried. On top of the girl dying and Caity moving, I wasn't having a good night and day today.
Then, my mom talked to my uncle, who is like a father to me. He helped me through so many things in my life. I owe him the world and then some. And he told her the dr's found something with his lungs. He has had trouble breathing lately. And the nurse told him he has to talk to the dr tomorrow. And she wouldn't tell him what it was at first. Bear in mind my uncle is like, best friends with the dr, they go golfing and he went with the dr to pick out a truck for his daughter. So the nurse told him they found abnormalities on his lung. And my uncle has a very, "Devil May Care" attitude, if he finds out he has something serious. He will just shrug and be like "Fuck it, I'm dead anyway" and won't seek more help. But my uncle took me into his house for a month or so when I had a VERY bad nervous breakdown and needed out of my house, and he has just done so much for me. I swear, no one better take him from me. Things will not bode well in this world if that happens.
So that'd been my past two days.
I'll let you kmnow what happens to my uncle.
And Josh is ready to crack under all this pressure. I took a valium before, normally that would knock me clean off my ass and I forget my worries. The shit didn't even phase me whatsoever.
Argh.
-Josh |
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| Death of it All |
[Apr. 11th, 2006|03:22 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Room | ] |
| [ | Bipolar Disorder |
| | depressed | ] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | Silence | ] |
Another night. Another night of reflection, worrying and all things that revolve around my head. I'm bored, but I am not tired. I don't know what to do. If I just lay down, I will just toss and turn like a raving lunatic. Ah, how an early sunrise morning will sneak up on me and bite me in the ass. It's strange, for a good while, I haven't really entered the hallow and dark halls of my mind. I would dabble a bit by the entrance, but I never walked out of the light that shined through the door. Never ventured into the darkness in which I once dwelled for years on end. It seems I have made my way back there, or in the process at least. The light at the door is becoming dimmer with each step I am taking. Why venture into the depths of my mind's darkness again? I guess I'm looking for an answer hidden in the shadows within shadows. Seeing if I can grab hold of a truth or answer in pitch blackness. I would never be able to properly list what answers and truths I so desire. Alot I would like to keep to myself and alot would just take way too much space to type here. My thoughts are infinite and endless. Every second, a new question arises and leaves just as fast as it came.
I've been breaking down, quietly, by myself the last few weeks. Every other night or so, I just sit and zone out, then the tears come and then they stop. I wish I knew what I cried about. I really am unsure. I try in a vain effort to discover what breaks me down. Numerous factors I find, but no real definitive answer. Maybe it's a combination of it all, maybe not, I do not know. Factors, like living in this house to my father all play up to my breaking down. But nothing is concrete, and I wish I knew why. I talk to people about things if I am up to it. But, I never feel closure. I just repeat myself. I might feel ok after a few minutes but then it hits with full force again a few hours later. And there I sit, waiting for it to hit. Always when I am alone. I wish it picked a time when someone was talking to me or physically there so they know. I guess we all know now, don't we? But to read it, is totally different than from experiencing it first hand I suppose. I really don't know who I am anymore. I've lost touch with myself. I hate how I can be fine when I am around people, but now when I am by myself. I don't feel that same sense of safety like I used to when I would be myself in my room in the wee hours of the morning after I get off the phone with Heather. Is it fear? No, no, it's not fear. I just don't feel right, I guess. And I was having a decent fuckin day too.
I don't expect any comments or anything. I just needed to vent briefly, because I felt another crash coming on.
Hopefully, this pushed it aside for a little bit.
-Josh- |
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| Meh |
[Apr. 8th, 2006|07:06 pm] |
| [ | Enviromental Sounds |
| | "Let It All Bleed Out"-Rob Zombie | ] |
When's it my turn? |
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