Uhh... I couldn't go to sleep, so I called my friend Chris, and in a very threatening voice I said unto him "You must never DO Emo!" and hung up immediately. Then I wrote this letter to him, and gave it to him in school. He figured it was me, and told me I was demented. Maybe I am - or maybe I'm the sanest person he knows (probably the former)...


I had a nightmare. I believe it to be a sign. I dreamt that you were in the mosh of a Sunny Day Real Estate concert, if you could call it a mosh. There was no cheering, there was nothing but hell's infernal "The Prophet" playing ominously in the background. You were clothed in a vacant smile; and adorned in the primary colors: gray, black, and brown. Holy god, it was horrible. Lifeless eyes stared up as if to welcome the psychological carnage. The horror, Chris, the horror. And the children wandered the Earth, endlessly, looking for some kind of relief to their suffering. But they were always drawn back; back to their accursed EMO!

Then you were on stage. Your clean cut, "Intellectual" glasses, and smiling pop face made you indistinguishable from the zombies below. Save for the fact that this time, you were the one ripping their souls away. Vainly, you sang allusions to how weak you are and how small your penis is (for the Emo makes it shrink, you know), masturbating your soulless spirit on the sympathetic moans of others. And God didest try to smite thee, but the forces of Lucifer were amassing. Nazis roamed the street in packs, like wild dogs looking for women to dog-rape. And then they became dogs, and I ran naked through the streets, crying to the Lord "Why?"

But the Lord did not give my enemies reprisal, instead, you came in fiery horror to me and spoke the words:

We're loyal like brothers
Just us versus all the others.
I trusted misleading promises worth repeating.
How could you do this to me?

--"Red Letter Day", The Get Up Kids

And in so doing, I burst into flame, and the world was thus shroud in eternal darkness. Nazis roamed the street, ravaging diner after diner until the only places left to eat in the city were run down pubs, which only served reheated pizza because the pub owners really didn't serve food, only beer. {Emo beer]! And goats had sex with babies and people used flame throwers to brush their teeth. The devil grinned, and the world smiled and nodded; because the devil, in the end, is the ultimate personification of Emo itself, and you his messiah.

So I must implore of you, do not experiment with Emo, Chris. Lord knows what things exist down that road.


A conversation with myself.

“I met somebody!”

Holy shit. Holy shit!

“Well, ok... maybe not. I did talk to her, that one day.“

Yeah, but that was like two months ago.

Dude, you saw that look.”

She was pretty as hell, and super-cute, when she looked, almost giddy, at her sister.

“And, she waved too.”

You waved first.

“I don’t even know how old she is.”

True, but you do know her brother-in-law. Or at least you know she was hanging out with that guy’s wife for the last two nights.

“I think they’re sisters. I bet they went to St. Anthony’s carnival

Damn, I live in a small town.

“Had four residences within the last 29 years, in the same zip code.”

I wonder where she grew up.

“I’m movin’ to Philly, eventually.”

Sure, when pigs fly.



“I’ll have lunch where dude works tomorrow and get the scoop.”

Well, you already know she lives on her own, and she drives a Blazer.

“She may not live alone.”

Haven’t seen anybody, yet.

Good point!”

Remember, try what the doctor said, ‘Work at practicing to ask for what you want. Think about what Jeff would say to you.’ For cryin’ out loud, Talk To Her! ‘Or I’ll point at your knee, and sprinkle salt on you, and call you slug.’

”Miss that guy.”

Talk to her.

What’s the worst that could happen? I might hear the word no.”

Talk to her!

Alright, I will.

The scene unfolds:

Little fuzzy caterpillar climbing up the wall, sliding past a reproduction of Claude Monet’s Nympheas. He falls, quickly and silently, landing on the hideous pale pink guestroom carpet next to a small piece of black something the vacuum must have missed. Crawling under the desk, checking if he’s okay. Yes, still moving, let him crawl onto my index finger and transport him safely to the top of the monitor. All is well. Watch as he slowly climbs across the screen, until he falls yet again onto the copy of disk number two of Final Fantasy 8 which Adam left carelessly behind after one of his mad thieving sessions of crazy disk burning and copyright violations. Now little caterpillar is resting peacefully on disk 4. He has 14 legs, perhaps 16 if you count the tiny pokey things beneath his chin. Small, rust-colored dots decorate his back in a neat row, while impressively long tufts of hair protrude from where I assume his eyes should be. Antennae, I suppose. The rest of his body is various shades of brown. He is no more than an inch long, and is now climbing along a Super Sharpie marker and onto a lonely jewel case. He is searching, searching, searching…

So much to do, but nothing in particular. Lots of motivation, no direction. I have written exactly forty-nine thank you cards in three days, and currently have thirteen more to go. Graduation is a profitable stage of life to pass through. I have finished high school, have three months of idleness, and then it’s off to college. The usual.

He has returned to the Sharpie. I believe he has discovered the length of his body is exactly equal to that of the diameter of the marker, and therefore feels a remarkable magnetic attachment distracting him from his search. Well, no, he has moved on to FF8 disk #1. And so it continues.

I watched a movie with my dad this evening. Unfortunately the movie sucked. I do not recommend Dungeons and Dragons to any respectable, intelligent viewing audience. Nice special effects, but horrible overdramatic Shakespearian acting taken completely out of context and thrown into a ridiculous plot of predictable silliness. The empress looks like the pudding-filled balloon boob chick from Now and Then, or perhaps Danny, the little girl from Hocus Pocus. This disqualifies her from portraying any sort of authority figure, and thus distracted me throughout the movie. Not to mention the entire ordeal reeked of Phantom Menace, complete with lightning swords and strangely dressed leaders.

The caterpillar has retired to the sugar maple beside the deck in the backyard, where he will find comfort in nature instead of the pink polyester fibers he was formerly entrenched in.

musings about everything upon becoming level 2

For the last week or so I have been addicted to E2. I mean, sort of obsessed in a concentrated way. This sort of thing doesn't happen too often to me anymore. It used to, but one thing you learn is how to moderate obsession, i think, as you get older.

It's really a fascinating place. Definitely one of the most interesting online communities I've ever participated in. It has really got me thinking about a lot of things. Here's a few:

  • I feel old here. I'm 32. that's not that old. But it seems most of the people here are still in college. In their early 20s, on average. That is pretty strange.
  • Related to the the age thing is the fact that a lot of these people are higher level. So I'm being hazeed, basically, and "taught" and sometimes even condescended to, by these people who sometimes are 10 years or more younger than me. It's really an interesting blow to the ego. This is really nothing new, of course. All over the Net and for years, and even in other places besides the Net, but especially so on the Net because it's so much easier to do, people have constructed their own environments, places where they are comfortable, in fact where they are kings. Heck, I've done that myself, with Detritus.net. And people probably get really frustrated with me on the detritus mailing list when I say, "go look at the archives, we talked about that 2 years ago." That's how it goes, I guess.
  • I've realized that I don't mind that I'm a newbie here. It sort of feels good to exercise the restraint needed to play by the rules of this place, and slowly, hopefully, start to earn the respect of some "oldtimers". I guess I respect the general point of the place enough to jump through the hoops.
  • Also I realize that the time I could have spent in the last 3 years becoming an E2 level 9 god, or whatever, was time well spent doing other things. Things I value. I'm happy and proud of who I am and the things I've accomplished. I have a CD out that's in stores all over the world. I've performed my music in Europe. I've lived comfortably in one of the most beautiful cities in the world working an average of about 20 hours a month, thanx to my programming skills. I've helped to found an annual music festival. I've won an award for my net.art. etc etc, preen, brag. :-) But the point is, I wouldn't give anything up to be an Avatar or Pedant or whatever. Which is not to put those things down. It's just that everyone has their own priorities. I'm just happy to have found this place and be able to contribute to it now, in a small way.
Speaking of contibuting, today I updated my intertextuality node. This is a sore spot because I screwed up the first time I wrote it, and got majorly downvoted -- because i wrote a really short writeup that basically said that i would finish it later -- and it's finally inching its way back up but I feel like if I had just put what's there now up the first time, it might have been C!ed, or at least voted pretty high...

Also, I attained level 2 today, and got the right to vote. A strange realization from that is the way that this changes your standards. Once you are able to vote you suddenly become all judgemental. Which makes sense, I suppose. When you're given the power to judge, you will. You'll ask far more of people when you see yourself as their evaluator, rather than just a... a powerless serf, I guess. There's something that disturbs me about this, but I'm not sure to what extent or why. The whole E2 power structure is disturbing, and yet, I'm sure it is the result of much arguing and handwringing and trial and error. It's an attempt to order the chaos of a brand-new society. Like all societies, resources must be allocated. There are strange resources here, though - attention, mainly, and then time and effort, and then of course, the actual system resources that make all this technically happen. So, it's a solution. I'm just not sure there couldn't be a better one. And I don't have the experience (literally, and as in XP) to come up with a better one yet.

Anyway, to sum up, it's been a pretty interesting week....

Today was uneventful until I got home this evening, and then it was still uneventful, but in a freaked-out, paranoid sort of way.

I had gone out to dinner with Ryan--just to Souper Salad, so I wasn't expecting to be gone long. I just left my cell phone on the table, told my roommate and her boyfriend goodbye, and was out the door. An hour later we came back, and Ryan dropped me off on his way back to his parents' house in Denton.

I walked up the stairs to find my front door standing wide open.

Luckily Yoda (the most beautiful cat in the world) was still in the living room; she came out to greet me when I tentatively stepped inside. All of a sudden the thought came to me: Why did I just walk into my apartment when it's possible that there could be someone here beside me or Jamie? Remembering the stories about the recent assaults in the area, I hurriedly left and locked the door behind me. I calmly walked over to Ryan's apartment, hoping he was still there. He seemed a little surprised to see me, and was even moreso when I asked if I could use his phone to call the police. The 911 dispatcher wasn't the kindest woman in the world. A little nervous--this is the first time I'd called 911, I said to her, "This isn't an emergency, but I'm wondering if someone might be in my apartment..."

She said, "And you're asking me, because...?"

I didn't know how to respond. Just asked her, "Aren't you supposed to send someone over here to check it out?" She got my address and said she'd send someone, and for me to wait outside. Ryan and I went back over to my place to wait for the police. He timed them. Eight minutes. Not bad. The two of them went upstairs to my place, and I opened the door and watched my cat run right out the door past us. So Ryan is with the officers, telling them what he knew of the situation, while I'm trying to capture my cat outside.

They didn't find anything or anyone, and my cell phone was sitting out just where I left it. Nothing had been touched. I was lucky--we're not really sure what happened, except that Jamie might have forgotten to close the door when she left that evening. She was carrying her cello, so it's a definite possibility.

But I had to wait two hours for her to come home before finding this out. Ryan had been wonderful, and stayed with me the whole time plus some after the cops had gone, but his mom was expecting him to come home early, and I told him to leave. I sat down with the first book I saw, which just happened to be about a group of people who want to take over the world. I moved from the couch to the floor in case of stray bullets. I jumped at every little sound, and finally decided to go for a drive to calm my nerves. I drove around Dallas for about 30 minutes, then came back home to an empty apartment. Sat back down with the book after checking all possible hiding places one more time, until I heard something crash in the kitchen. That was it. I stepped back into my sandals, grabbed my purse, keys and phone, and headed back out for my second drive of the evening.

I didn't go far; Jamie and her boyfriend had just gotten back, and I asked them if they'd forgotten to lock the door, which is when she pieced together the "I was carrying my cello" explanation.

Now, I'm fairly sure that she, I and the cat are the only ones in the apartment, but it is a very frightening feeling, that you're not safe in your own home. Moving Day is going to be a bit sooner than expected, now. I just hope that I can sleep tonight; I'm still a little on edge.

I got home from the pub about midnight and warmed up the pornograph to see if any of my mates were online. Someone new had added me as a contact on messenger and I had no clue who they were, but had the following conversation with her. I am still not sure if it should affect the way I feel about myself...

casandra says:


thomas says:

evening casandra

casandra says:

are you from Abernathy

thomas says:


thomas says:

it's hard to say

casandra says:


casandra says:

why that

casandra says:


thomas says:


thomas says:


thomas says:

are you there?

thomas says:

who are you,dude?

casandra says:


thomas says:

I said, "Who are you, dude?"

casandra says:

well my friend add you to this

thomas says:

your friend... go on...

casandra says:

I live in plainview texas

casandra says:

and she read something on my and put you on the list

thomas says:

aw man.. sorry

casandra says:

that is okj

casandra says:


thomas says:

hope so... cos I have no clue who you are.. but I am sooo drunk now.. it's wobbly

casandra says:

well I have no clue who you are and don't care because I have a better life then some one that is drinking because I have a kid she don't need a drunk in her life or my

casandra says:

because that don't get you know there

thomas says:

That's nice. I think it's a good, positive attitude. However, I quite enjoy the social benefits of drinking and the wayit allows me to relax after work. Do you think it is always a bad thing?

casandra says:

yes i do

thomas says:

OK. Well.. that's yuor perogative. I guess you'll bar me from yuo messenger list now. But please.... try and consider the fact I may not be a totally bad preson. Thanks.

casandra says:

I have look out for people I talk to because I have a little girl around and she pick-up fast and she is 11m. and she can understand a lot of thing believe me

thomas says:

Ok, that's an admirable attitude. I am merey being defensive because I see myself as a normal guy going about my life and find a stranger joining in..... with no introduction ornreason.

thomas says:


The following message could not be delivered to all recipients:


Last night
A friend of mine from school had arranged a 60s/70s/80s night (for charidee!), and had invited a whole load of people from the student tv station along. Except there were very few of them there. Instead it was mostly people who had gone to my school - people I hadn't seen in over a year. (I also had trouble finding the people I was supposed to be meeting, and spent twenty minutes standing on my own in a bar. Not fun.)

I didn't really think I had changed that much, but it's amazing what contact lenses and a bit of gel in the hair can do. Five or six people didn't recognise me at all, and the look on their faces when they realised who I am was really quite priceless.

I felt a little, um, rough when I got home and into bed, but was fine by the morning, which is a Good Thing.

Being a nice boy, I had agreed to drive my great aunt into town to help her buy a new TV. I managed to come up with a fairly good argument for her to get a widescreen set, but I think she may be going against my advice and not buying from John Lewis. And I think I may have solved the problem of her VCR not working right by switching on PDC. Good Thing.

Next stop - Sandy's house for a bit of network gaming. I appear to have acquired an imaginary gay partner - shortly after I walked in, Stewart said that getting off with Winston last night was disgusting, and the joke ran on. I'm sure I'll be stuck with Winston for the rest of my life.

Happy birthday yam!

happy birthday to me
happy birthday to me
happy birthday dear yaaaa-ammmmmmm
happy birthday to me

I, princess yam, declare this to be a day of celebration and feasting. Pudding and monkeys for all! Sticky tape and chewing gum for none!

I shall now ride my white horse in to town, where I will get rid of this stupid suit I wear at work and put on decrepit old jeans and a shiny plastic purple necklace.

I am turning 10 years old!

Okay, no, I'm 21. I can drink in the states, which was, of course, my life's ambition. It's a multiple of 7, so I declare it to be a lucky year, even if it's not prime.


Yet another day. Sitting looking at the empire state from my seat at work, the windows are red and the space between them is greyish black. Work is going by at a medium pace. Spent yesterday sleeping mainly, but today I feel pretty energetic. Perhaps that's because I've reduced my depakote intake by a quarter...

My cell phone bill goes unpaid because of funkiness with sprint's website. I hope they don't shut it off. That would be very bad... but survivable. My shirt has this stuff on it that looks like a permanent stain... ugh. Otherwise, the coding goes on.

My room is an utter disaster. Then again, it is in the process of becoming not my room anymore, but our room.

I never actually realized how much stuff I have stashed in and around my bedroom.

In order for there to be room enough for Dan's shite, we have to pack some of my stuff into boxes to store downstairs. This is generating a lot of trash, as I "bite the bullet" as it were and throw away a good deal of the stuff that was in boxes. A myriad of old papers, drawings, essays, folders, joke e-mail print-outs (gods only know why I had them in the first place), binders, random items that I have no real use for, etc. The list continues for quite some time.

The one part that has surprised me so far was when we got to the third box down in the stack Dan and I were working on getting rid of. This one contained magickal and/or religious items. Candles, athame, candle holders-out-the-ass, dream pillow, incense, sharpening stone, ceremonial wooden circlet-crowns, etc. I did not, at first, think I would be throwing anything out of that box into the trash. I was wrong. A good deal of things were disposed of, much to my surprise.

The point of all my purging? We need space in my room to put Dan's dresser, stereo and 2-foot high speakers, TV, etc. and with boxes of stuff still strewn about my room from the move last October, that would be nigh impossible.

We have 4 or 5 boxes left to go, and 2 boxes repacked with stuff I won't need anytime soon. Soon, I hope, there will be a visible floor in my- no, our room again so I can walk through it without tripping over some random item.

**sarcasm** The perfect day.**end sarcasm** I got absolutely no real sleep last night. I woke up when all was dark, went into the bathroom, and had a severe dizzy spell. My vision blacked out on me and I nearly threw up. I decided to forego my planned activity and went back to bed. Maybe three hours later I was roused out of my state of light dozing at the ungodly hour of six-o-clock in the morning by my mom. I'd forgotten that today was my counseling appointment.

I tumbled out of bed, bleary-eyed and half dreaming still. As soon as my feet hit my bedroom floor, or, rather, the enormous amount of papers and clothing covering my floor, my stomache gave an ominous lurch. Now feeling fairly certain that I was not, in fact, dreaming about my less-than-100% state of health I stumbled into our kitchen to give my mom the proper excuse and then stumbled back to bed.

Fast forward about three hours.

I woke up from dozing yet again, but this time to the sound of our TV blaring in the living room. My sister had obviously woken up. I turned over and attempted to go back to my light state of sleep but failed to do so. Fairly annoyed now I worked up enough courage to get out of bed and was relieved when my stomache didn't scream at me. Only now my head was throbbing.

I walked into the living room to find that my sister was on the computer reorganizing her endless supply of pointless anime pictures on her desktop. I managed to not scream at her with irritation and walked, or, rather, clumsily tripped, into the kitchen to scrounge up a breakfast of oats drenched in sugar and chocolate syrup.

the remainder of my day, up to this point, has been spent in that same miserable state of being. Only, at least I've got computer access. That alleviates the pain somewhat. I must say, today, so far, has royally sucked ass.

A pretty boring day in all. Decided to take infinite jest into work to read some more as I get too bored for words these days. I got about 2 chapters in all as someone would comment on the size of the book every five minutes, or ask why I had two bookmarks.

The highlight of the day? A cool fucking toy in my cereals when i came home (I eat cereal all the time, any time).
Now usually cereal box toys these days are pretty shit, so what did I get that renewed my faith in Nestle, Kellogs etc?... Well, in my box of Chocolate Shredded Wheat I found..


That's right, in my hands I have my very own pieces of Gibeon SRC 6 Meteor. Actually, they look like iron filings. I have about 0.00001 grams (that's a lot of zero's, take a drink Eva fans) of shiny metallic filings that have some stamp of authenticity from:


So upon further research, I can now show some 'amazing' facts about my sample using it's authentification number.

Fall Site Location:Great Nama Land, Nambia, South Africa.
Discovery Date:1836
Specimen Weight:12.762 KG
Nickel Test:Positive
Structural Classification Test:Positive
Type:Octahedrite Symbol: (IVA)
Band Width:0.3mm
% Nickel:7.69%
Classification:Iron Fine Octahedrite
Origin:Asteroid Belt

What a cool thing to put in cereal boxes, I really hope they inspire some bored kids (or even adults).

I have everything I could ever want in my life except love. I want love. I don't care what kind of love just love. I get no love from my parents. Its more of a respect. Everyone I have ever looked to for love has hurt me. Hurt me in every single way possible. I dont know what it is about me. I suppose I'm just destined to remain loveless my whole life. Why will nobody love me?

I cry. It hurts so much to be lonely. I want someone to tell me Chris I love you, someone that will hold me, someone that will make me laugh. No matter where I look, i just can't find it.

On the lighter side: I called the cops on some guys breaking into my house.

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