2014

Listen:

2014 has been over for a while for me. I gave up on it a few months ago. I decided not a whole lot could change in a short amount of time and set yet another reset date for January 1^st, 2015. It’s about as cliché as it gets, but hopefully this cliché gets me on the right path for 2015.

This isn’t to say 2014 was all bad. I graduated from school. I went on a trip to Yosemite. I have a job.

I’m struggling to come up with things that make 2014 stand out. Those are the obvious ones to me. There were individual moments and weekends that made this year memorable at all, but when I look back upon 2014, it’s kind of a flash.

Now, a voice in my head just yelled, “Well what about the weed?” to which I respond, “Yeah, what about the weed?” Everyday, pretty much. Everyday I smoked. Sometimes I smoked 24/7. Sometimes I took breaks. Sometimes I forgot to take breaks. And some might say it’s unhealthy. And I’d say, the conclusion I’ve come to is that I need to live by a creed I once had about weed: only on weekends. And special events. But I fell into a pothead lifestyle having surrounded myself in its sheath for the past year. And now I see what I need to do.

You see, I thought that weed, being the mind-expanding drug I know it to be and have embraced as such, would help me be more present. And in many instances it made me experience things more vividly, or so I tell myself. And as I sit here smoking a joint, after spending the night smoking a bong and the afternoon on the same joint, I know now and can see that weed is fun. Weed is great. Weed isn’t needed all the time and if I need it just to be mindful and present, then I’ve got a bigger problem on my hand than a smoking habit.

So 2015 is going to be a new year to add to the books. And 2014 is there too. But I use this to make myself better. I’m going to be the me I wanna be and goddamnit the only person that can stop me is myself. So, as I have done in years past, I declare 2015: BETTER ME 2015.

I want to make more things. I want to read more books. I want to go to more comedy shows. I want to start doing stand up. I want to be more committed to my friends. I want to be more committed to my family. I want to be more committed to Martial Arts, to Photography, to writing, to shooting, to making, to doing. I want to be more committed to myself.

I am going to be a better me.

And I hope I mean it this time.

And one of my biggest regrets is not hanging with you bros enough. See, my hope is that with weed cut down to mostly weekends, I will drive out to see you guys more often. I miss you guys in my life. Its been lonely over here and its all my fault. Its gonna happen, so get ready.

See you guys in 2015. Let’s start killing it.

Monday Mansion Mania

Tonight I'm sleeping in what was once the waiting room for a private, low-profile plastic surgeon. He is no longer in a physical life-state in this dimension, but his wife lives on.  One of her daughters married a man with a couple sons, and one of those sons is a best friend of mine, so here I am.  The daughter always used to be creeped out by the knife held in the hand of the man in the painting pictured above.  Don't worry about finding the knife in the picture though, because after years of being afraid of this knife, one day the daughter looked at the painting and the knife had just disappeared, leaving behind a blank, brown spot that looks like nothing, just above the subject's right hand. Not even close to resembling a knife. Another time more recently, a visitor had trouble sleeping, as he was repeatedly woken by the cries of a small child throughout the night. Nothing too crazy though, my friend Mary had started house-sitting around that time, so it was probably just her kid. Mmm yes. Did I tell you guys about Mary's kid? I didn't, did I?  Yeah, it probably slipped my mind because Mary doesn't have a kid and there was no goddamb child in the house that night.

The sun rises in 6 hours.

That's just 360 minutes.

If I breathe 20 times a minute, why, that's just 7200 breaths.

7199.

7198.

Imma be good you guys.  Merry Christmas god bless you tell everyone I love them I'm sorry for all my wrongdoing please heaven forgive my sins and a happy new year!!

Monday Morning Mindfun

"Stay Curious"



...or if that bores you...

"Save the crap for the troops; What's the whammy?"

Saturday morning dream thread

Sasquatch horror movie. 

Instead of watching the movie, in this dream universe you live the experience. We chose a Sasquatch flick. I was tired though so I fell asleep pretty fast, and woke up to find myself in one of Sasquatch's death traps, pretty much had me tied to the bed until he wanted to eat me or whatever. Thought that was unfortunate but that's what I get for doing the horror movie thing while sleepy. Fall back asleep since there's nothing I can do, wake up to find the movie's been ended. Asked my mom what happened and she said that Sasquatch was raping her, which she thought was a little inappropriate so she turned it off.

:)

A Dinner Alone at Subway

Subway chillin

People here are nice

Finished all my meatballs

Just a six inch twice

Lookin out the window

See a bike out there

Old guy just came in

Shorts like underwear

Now a dude is sweeping

Gotta find each crumb

Thinkin in my brain

Sorta feel dumb

Not a lot to say

At least not what I want

Gonna go home

Gonna ask my aunt

Why she liked the catcher

Cuz I dug it too

Made me kinda happy

That I don't know what to do

Except keep living

And riding that wave

Sometimes being conscious

Is enough to dread the grave

The Rising Dark: Chapter Two; Pog

Yo-ho, what travels Stu and I have had in such short days! This morning, we awoke and stumbled our way to the mess for some early-dawn refreshments. The light had just begun to peek through the trees and gave a pearly glisten to the resting glasses. Simply spiff! By the pub, we noticed the dragonborn and Golden boy up as well. Stu made himself comfortable as I approached the scale-clad fellow, Laslo Gall. He was curious and kind enough, but seemed to be in an awful hurry to leave this all behind. As I was sharing my plans to seek out a new vessel, the well-armored boy joined our conversation... Spuds! I still cannot recall catching his name! Well… in any case, he was a bold young man and must be just so smitten of the outdoors, for I have never heard one man speak of sunshine with such delight. A bit later, the elves came down from their rest. I learned from conversation that the two were a sort of distant breed of brothers, but just as soon as they came, the Drow ran out and we were left chatting with Puff, the dozier of the two. It was not long before we recalled our meeting with the sheriff and took our leave of the inn.

The Rising Dark: Chapter One; Puff

I woke up elated to be seeing my old brother Azarain for the first time in many a year.  I had my doubts that I'd ever see the kid again, but he'd written me just a month ago agreeing to meet at the Festival of Lights in Sandtown.  In happier times, I would bring little Azarain to the Festival every summer, and we'd marvel at the dazzling light shows in the sky.  But that was years ago, and much has changed in the world, not to mention in our family.  Still, something inside me still thinks we can turn back the clock, and return things to how they once were…

My effervescent optimism faded as the hours passed and I grew deeper in my cups.  I'd drunken myself into a dark daze when a most unusual-looking cloaked visitor clambered through the inn bar. His heavy stomping jolted me back to my senses.  By the look of the light coming through the windows, I saw dusk was upon us, and decided it'd be as good a time as any to head to the town square and catch the night festivities leading up to the lights.  Besides, this visitor piqued my drunken interests, and I hadn't had an interesting conversation all day.  That's the thing about these inns in the free cities; nothing but merchants and they're endless squawking on their latest trades.

I got the door for my friend and walked over to the square with him.  The Festival of Lights has always been a popular event, and this year was no different.  Man, was that square was packed.  They call 'em the free cities, but there sure isn't much free space.  My companion had the brilliant idea of watching the festival play out from a rooftop on the square, so we headed up to church's belltower to look down on the crowd and its ruckus.

Laslo, as I came to learn his name was, didn't warm up to me quick, but before too long I had him talking.  I can be quite friendly when I'm drinking.  Anyways, I spilled enough of my troubles onto him, he was probably sick of my stories, poor guy.  And boy, did I get some stories out of him.  He didn't come right out and tell me anything, mind you, but I've been around these lands long and far enough to garner a bit more from a common tale than your average listener.  At least I like to think so, that is.  Because as crazy as it sounds, I'm fairly certain this hooded traveler told me he was from the isle of the monks, in so many words.  Didn't hurt that I'd been showing him the ways of the weedpipe, not sure the fellow had even smoked the green before.  Anyways, the time really flew by and we had a really swell time shooting the shark, swell enough to make me forget entirely about old Azarain blowing me off.  Of course, the swell times weren't the only thing helping me forget.

We were laughing at a poor chap trying to start a sing-along when an official-looking gentlemen quieted the crowd and announced that the lights would be set off in ten minutes.  I was glad to have someone to watch the lights with.  Laslo's excitement, having never seen the festival before, brought me back to the first time I brought Azarain, and the way he'd been giddy all day, and squealed in excitement at the first light.  I began to imagine how Laslo might react, when I sensed him tense up beside me.  I'd been pretty deep into my daydreams, or night-dreams as they were, and hadn't even noticed the darkness.

I looked out, but nothing came back.  In all my years, I've never experienced darkness quite like this. The sounds of screams rose to us, and when the night was turned to day, a scrum of goblins and demonic shells of men was revealed to us, attacking the festival crowd below.  We sprinted down the stairs of the belltower to fight off the rush of goblins.  As I took elk-form I saw him, sword slashing clean through the neck of a goblin.  Azarain turned to strike another, as Laslo and I fended off another pair.

A sound drowned out the screams, the sound of wind.  I hooved a goblin into the dirt as a strong gust emanated out of Loslo's outstretched hands.  In a blood-filled, fiery blur,  we fended off the pack until the darkness returned.  As the echo of a long-forgotten tongue clambered through my head, my eyes fell upon the only thing visible, a pious-looking man surrounded in a warm glow of light.  I was hypnotized by his aura, floating alone in a sea of nothingness, and seconds turned to days.  When the darkness lifted, the goblins and carcasses were gone. Laslo had placed a weakened Azarain upon my elk-back, and I shake him off as I return to my form.

We wandered over to the glowing man, where a few heros had fought off another gaggle of goblins.  The mystery of it all weighed heavily on my mind as we returned to the Rusty Dragon with the Head of the Guards.

The Rising Dark: Chapter One; Pog

Festival of Lights, 2345AUR

Howdy-hoody there! What a day, what a day.

It started all breezy sweet with a mid-day nap before festivities began. I recall entering the festival at the prime hour. I mean, I was right there in the center of it all with a fine spot by the fountain and not even too cramped to be shaded out! But just as Stu and I were settling in, everything went pitch dark. Now, I know what it’s like to be at sea, far away from the lights of a city in the middle of a black storm, but never have I seen such a dark darkness.

The hour struck and terrifying screams filled the sky. Moments later, the square lit up and there were bodies… So many falling bodies. Goblins were meddling in-between the human-folk and swarms of them where coming in from all directions. Brutal creatures, Goblins are. Stu and I turned around to face them, but by no means was it a fair fight!

The Rising Dark: Chapter One; Laslo Gall

I walk around the festival. I know the chances of me finding another monk is small. The square is filled with people drinking and playing games. I constantly worry that someone will notice my scales or teeth or eyes and make a scene. I haven’t been in a crowd this large in a long time. Not since my masters first took me to the port city to buy supplies. I was wearing a cloak then too. I wasn’t as nervous; I had my fellow monks with me. Now, I wonder if there is even one within a hundred miles. I’m not getting anywhere out here in the daylight. I’ll have better luck at night, when I can talk and not worry about being seen.  I’ll head back to the Rust Dragon and meditate till then. As I walk go to exist the square, a Halfling riding a raccoon skips past me. I guess I wont be the only strange creature here.

Within minutes I’m back in the inn. The lobby has a lively atmosphere. In the corner is a rather old looking elf. His energy is much calmer than the buzzing of the festival. Past the bar and into my room; I close the door and begin to meditate. I must reside myself to the truth: I may be the last monk I see.

The sound of the festival stirs me. Night has fallen. It’s only a matter of time until the ceremony starts. I should head to the square. The lobby is now empty save the bartender and the old elf. The elf is quite a bit more intoxicated now. His eyes are half open as he rests his head against the damp wooden table. My presence seems to stir him. Observing the darkness that has fallen outside, the elf jump up to his feet and makes for the door. Five steps in and he still hasn’t found his footing. Arriving at the door at the same time, I ask him if he is heading to the center. He answers yes and I suggest we walk together. I worry he wont make it on his own.

Blah blah blah… this elfs got a long life story. As we trot down the city street the elf, Puff, harps on about his son and their date to meet tonight. Most of it is family talk, things I can’t understand. In the middle of this speech he mentions his son is a dark elf. I’ve never seen a dark elf.

The square is much more filled than this afternoon. People point up to the sky with anticipation. Looking over the crowd is a large stone church. The empty bell tower will be a good vantage to watch the festival. I suggest it to the elf. He agrees and suggests we “toke the herbs”. I wonder what he means by “herb” and “toke”.

I like these “herbs”. He tells me he has studied the “Way of the Weed” for many centuries now. I inquire who his masters were and he replies “Mary Jane”. I tell him I must meet this Master Mary. He answers, “You already have”. It is a strange philosophy.

The crowd grows restless. The ceremony is set to begin any minute. Quite suddenly, what little light there was is gone. I ask the elf, with his better vision, if he can see. Perplexed, he admits he is blind as well. Shrieks come from bellow and the sound of falling bodies. Feeling for the ledge, I ready myself to jump into the square. If something is afoot I don’t with to be trapped in a tower watching. Puff yells for me to wait. I hear him stubbles in the dark. I think he attempted a spell but am not sure. No matter, the sky quickly sparks into sunlight. The ceremony has begun. The blinding white turns to red within seconds. Peasants and merchants alike fall at the swords of goblins and skeletons. Blood fills the streets. They are everywhere. I look over the edge. The fall would be damaging and put me right in the middle of a fight. I turn to Puff and without words we sprint down the staircase.

In front of the church, the battle wages. From the top of the stairs, Puff yells into the center of the square. There I see a black elf crossing swords against two goblins. I jump into the battle and throw my fists towards a sword-wielding skeleton. I must still be feeling the effects of the “herbs” and I miss both my throws. It’s been a long time since I’ve really trained. Perhaps I’m rusty. I look back to see my old elf friend mutter to himself. A wave of magic pulses out of him until, before my eyes he explodes into a giant stag!

From there the battle seemed to happen in fast motions, as if time was being pulled by magic or laziness. In a blur, I cast gust of wind. Goblins and skeletons are blown backwards. I attempt to rally the survivors to the church. In the chaos, I shoot a line of fire right past Puff and into a charging goblin. I quickly realize my mistake, I have given my nature away. I then jump down and kick the burnt goblin through the burning bush and into the skeleton behind him killing both. Puff joins his heavily wounded black elf son, shattering a skeleton warrior. Seeing the son struggle, I run over to help. In a slow-motions super emotional moment, I pick up the black elf and place him on his father-elk’s back so he may get him to safety. I can see the enemy army start to retreat. Guards have arrived from the west. The battle has turned in our favor. Just as this happens the field go black again. My dagger out and alert, I await the coming attack. It never comes.

Within seconds the field is bright again. This time the blinding white turns not to red but to brown. The dirt of the square is no longer covered with bodies. They have vanished. I look across and see a group of guards along with a heavily armored human and the Halfling from earlier. All but one guard goes after the retreating forces. The surviving crowd erupts in applause. I try to pull my hood back over my head but it is burn beyond repair. I look to the crowd and to my surprise their cheers do not turn to horror. The single guard left in the square quiets the crowd. He introduces him self as the sheriff. He addresses us as a group and asks for all of the “fighters” to meet him at his office tomorrow morning. His brief speech done, the crowd converges on us. Praises are thrown at us; the owner of the Rusty Dragon even offers us free board.

This acclaim is a sensation I have never felt. The warmth of the crowd is invigorating but I must not get wrapped up in it. The public eye is no place for a dragonborn. I need to be on my way.

Mugwumps.

These senators were too brilliant not to post.

Opening Right Up

Depression is an inherently selfish venture. At its crux is the notion “I disserve to be happier”. That sort of self-involved ranking of your state of mind is grossly misled. To paraphrase Pete Holmes, its counting snowflakes in a snow globe. The snow globe of a depression-skewed mind is never going to count enough snowflakes, its twisted to read deficiency. Depression is heat sensitive to discovering flaws and shortcomings and decay. It’s a self-perpetuating flow of bullshit, which if it were to ever truly escape would wither. But it feels like you’re trapped. And you’re aware of how your thinking has become flawed but every argument you make in moments of despair is perfectly reasonable. But you are dying every minute. You can’t ever reclaim the happiness you had. Things aren’t going well and who knows if they’ll get better. What is the point?

For the last month or so this has kind of been my wheelhouse. I wake up some mornings and a very articulate “What is the point?” is waiting to greet me.

I know how self-involved and petty this is. There are so many important things happening to people and our species and the world and if I truly felt hopeless I should just throw myself at a cause and try and heal someone else. That would be the martyr thing to do, that would be noble. Unfortunately, I don’t think this disease works this way, it doesn’t inspire. And I’m finally starting to think of it as a disease. I see how its symptoms come and go. I think I’ve always had it, its always been in me, but there are times when it swells up to Akira size and seems to consume my life.

Diseases need treatment and I haven’t delved into the treatment phase yet. I know that I should but that isn’t enough when you feel like you’re drowning. Tackling depression is scary, it forces you to confront a lot about yourself that you don’t like. It’s a hard choice to make when the other option is just saying, “fuck it, I’m done”. It’s much easier to lie down and die. Taking about suicide Chris Gethard said, “If you really think you’re strong enough to turn off every instinct telling you to be alive and jump off a bridge you’re probably also strong enough to keep living and push through it”. If you can do one you can do the other and luckily I’m still thinking logically enough to say that pushing through it is the better choice. This is the best “why” I’ve come up with so far.

I’m writing this because I leave tomorrow morning to see my family for two weeks and I’m really scared to talk to them about this. Growing up I heard constantly, “the most important thing is that you’re happy”. I didn’t grow up with religion and I was ingrained with a distrust of systems and organized thinking. “Be happy” is the one doctrine they gave me. How can I tell them I’ve failed in the one aspect they asked me to succeed? In my worst moments I think it would be easier for them if I just vanished. I know that’s untrue but like I said it’s a flow of bullshit.

I’m writing this as practice because I have a feeling I wont be able to hide these feeling for two weeks. I need to deal with this now so I know how to say it later. I’m also writing this because I’ve realized how hard it is for people to understand and to hear. I feel like I’ve been screaming, “I’m depressed!” for the last two weeks but still I find close friends who don’t know.  It seems things like this can’t be insinuated; it must be spoken about bluntly. That being said, there is a chance none of this will make sense. Issues of the mind aren’t solid things that can be drafted, they come out in metaphors, they are talked around and are not to be held down. If nothing else, taking this time to write and post has helped me feel a little more in control, more manageable.

I’ll be gone for a while, I hope to be smiling when I come back and I hope you’re smiling while I’m gone.

Jesse

can't remember where this came from but the tab was open and it was a good 1

http://www.highexistence.com/supernatural-stimuli-comic/

p.s. i just deleted my eCommon and eCampus bookmarks and immediately felt an exhilarating sense of liberation

Real Life

Guys, I almost died tonight. This one was for real. I almost swallowed a tab to the top of a beer. It was scary as fuck and I'll explain it more poetically in a future post.

Vacation Nation

Sup bros. Comin at you live from my vacation, and boy is this one a doozy.

It sure is, Tom.

Anyways, I'm on vacation, partially to see family and friends here in the New East, but mainly to get away from the innately depressing drudgery of day-to-day adult life. I'm not sure where I'm gonna go with this blog, so I'm gonna start by trying to justify why my life is worthwhile to write about.  Which is gonna be tough, because I honestly don't know if it is or not.  I mean I'd prefer to know one way or the other, but I can't seem to land on a solid answer.  I'll just say that my life is slightly more interesting than absolutely nothing, which is what this blog has consisted of the last few months.

Remember that hypothetical question concerning my dad's girlfriend's daughter?  Well I spent the first few days of my vaca at a beach house with that whole family. Like a family of 10 all on their big family-vacation week, and I'm just plopped in.  I'm not being mean or anything, but my dad's GF ain't the brightest bulb.  You could call her dumb and remain an honest man.  She's the kinda person who asks what it means to run a "nine-minute-mile."  But her 5 or 6 kids and affiliated partners are pretty dope, fans of Panda Bear, Chappelle, and Triumph, so you know they're good people.  The youngest daughter who's my age is into cool New Age shit, and was telling me how we just entered the age of Aquarius or something, meaning there's gonna be a big-ass flood. I mean I'm guessing this is just a prophecy about the sea level rise that's coming, but she also mentioned how an asteroid could cause days and days of rain and we wouldn't even know. She said the ages last some thousands of years though, so I figure we got some time.  But invest inland, people.

I guess I should skip ahead at this point to the Clambake. Like moths are pulled to light, so is my mom's family pulled to the beer margaritas, freshly collected clams, and mountains of other foodstuffs doled out at the annual clambake, hosted at my uncle Lum's humble oasis in Westerly, Rhode Island. Truly one of my favorite places on the planet, a viable contender for number one. Anyways, it's a little foggy in my memory (as I said before, *beer margaritas*).  I do know that my moms uncle, an awesome Arab dude who's probably in his 70s, requested improv. My cousin who's an actor/comedian in Chicago brought his actor/comedian girlfriend, so they were running the show. There were five more of us in the troupe. We called ourselves 6-Finger-Ham-Bake, I think. You guys know I suck at improv. I totally bailed mid-show. Twice. Still managed to shoot my mom dead with a flamethrower in there somewhere. Boy, did that shame hit quick the next morning. But overall a good time was had by all the people who don't suck.

The next days were pretty perfect. Non-stop gems, chillin at that lil house. The point of this blog was originally to just post this drawing, so here's that:

Brandon and I were high and just passed the paper back and forth. Not much else to say about that one.

Anyways, I'd like to now shift subjects from my vacation to the ultimate truth-zone of the universe. But before I forget- no cumming in the Mind Box. Unless it's sex, and then you have to wash the sheet. Like within 24 hours.

Dudes. Or dude, if only one of you made it this far.  What's up with this world? Am I dumb? Is everyone dumb? I spent a good two hours the other night staring up at the night sky. Except I wasn't really looking at the sky, it's not like there's just a sky sitting there. I was really just looking at everything, from one point in space, most of which is nothing. Just staring up into the vast nothingness that we float around in. After a while, with nothing but trees and stars and the occasional firefly in your field of view, you start to wonder what we don't know, what we've been too caught-up-in-our-own-bullshit to learn. And I don't know, there's some truth that hits you. A pleasant whiff of the real universe.  It's nice.  I miss it.

Spent another two hours catching up on the news today. Obviously a number of things are fucked, but the segue is that whiff of the real universe. Even in all this bullshit that's happening, it's at least nice to hear a real account of what's happening. Not so easy when the police are shooting and detaining journalists. Not so easy when journalists are facing prison time for reporting on the government's fuck ups. And goddamnit. After an hour and a half of solid internet news digging, I watched the local cable news as an informed viewer, just to see how bad they were. And it's just sad. There are so many real issues, so many complex problems that we need to think about as a country and as a society and as a species. Like come on, just identify a problem.  ISIS has a journalist hostage. They tell America to stop airstrikes, or the hostage dies. We don't stop airstrikes, the hostage dies, then our leaders go on TV talking about how shocked they are. Did the local news mention that the hostage was killed in retaliation for US actions? No. Did they mention that the situation is now repeating itself because they have another hostage? No. And this isn't to say that we should or shouldn't stop airstrikes, but we should at least acknowledge that our actions have negative consequences.  So instead of discussing whether or not we should continue these airstrikes, the news instead spent 10 minutes discussing whether or not twitter should censor the video of the dude being killed.  All without mentioning what he said in that video.  Anyways, I'm only an hour-and-a-half informed on current events and I'm already this pissed off.  Just so god damn disappointed and terrified by the acceptance of dumbed down news, and really media in general.  I know I was indulgent in writing this but there's been no action on here so fuck it. Stirring the pot.

It's life and life only.

Are we dead?

No one posts here. We're falling back into our pattern of no posts. Is it because everyone lives together again? Am I the only one out here? How do I even know if I'm alive?

This is Cool

http://www.calm.com/

Website for guided meditation, tried the 20min. Pretty chill and nonintrusive.

This

Also, this: Read this:

http://www.vice.com/read/death-and-the-imagination

I could've fallen back asleep but instead I wrote this, so enjoy it you fucks.

It's 4:13 and I'm awake because while changing positions in my sleep, my arms wandered outside the so-called "safe-area" that rises vertically bound by the shape of my mattress, and swung by and through the glass of water sitting on my nightstand, waking up all the goddamn water as well as myself. Adrian woke up too and peed. I wanted to pee, but I was busy trying to transfer as much wetness as I could from my floor, bed, nightstand, and nightstandly-located belongings into paper towels. These towels now lie wet and on the floor next to my bed, because I was too lazy and tired to consider putting them in the trash bin approximately 18 inches from ground-zero. I'd tell you about my dream too, but that would further delay my getting back to it, and this fading image of a bag of weed is getting dimmer by the minute, so I'd best be getting back. Ta-ta til the morning, reality.

get fucked up this weekend

And this...

I need to stop seeing that vomit gif

Here's my replacement

Have A Good Week

"message me if"

What do you think, Adrian? Hardo?

rich and jesse discuss.

"i've been to two strip clubs, and each time i've gotten a lap dance."
"dude. what's that like?"
"it's like having titties all up in your face."

“Thought can’t go where the roads of language have not been built.”

This is a lecture by Terrence McKenna, and Jesse and I agreed it's def one of the best.

Other thoughts...

Last night I was at a party with a random assortment of people, and we were talking about all the crazy steps that had to happen to lead to us being friends and talking to each other.  Jesse and I had to explain how we knew each other, and I mentioned how out of 6 of us randomly thrown into the same suite freshman year, 4 of us are now going to be living in a house together in LA.  I've always considered this to be the luckiest and most improbable thing to ever happen, and I probably still do.  But this other girl brought up a really good point, saying how when you're thrown together with people, there's a really good chance of you bonding, but you're only thrown together with a select group of people in your life.

Like if this girl had lived with us, we'd probably be best friends with her at this point, too.
This is just a cool way to think about people that I've been opening up to more recently.  On the surface it sounds like it's kind of reducing the specialty of finding those rare people that you really connect with, but what I take from it is that every person out there is a potential best-friend.  There's this documentary called "Kumare" where this random dude pretends to be an Indian spiritual guru, and instead of being just some prank it ends up shedding all this light on how human relationships can change for the better if they're just open to each other, as if they were actually gurus.  (Haven't seen the movie but the guy was on Pete Holmes).

Anyways, this is just where my thoughts have been recently so thought I'd share. I stopped smoking weed in part because of what happened last time, but now it's become more because I, personally, can connect with the average person better when I'm not smoking, and so that's been a cool trip.  Still working on it though, because it's hard to find the right/interesting things to say.  It's like people are locked doors, and you have to somehow find the right conversational key to open them up and get to the good stuff.
Yeah that sounds sexual, but it's not.
Fuck you.

Rumor Mill:

New evidence shows No Fap is back with a vengeance in 2014. Rumor has it it is to experiment if women will be able to know I have a full sack or not.

Next installment soon.

Tonight a girl

Eye-fucked me as she walked by.

I got a little hard.