My brother's girlfriend broke up with him last week.
She told my brother that she wasn't happy with him, and that my parents were too much of a hassle for her. Said my brother was abusive, and was too controlling. Abusive? Please, that bitch doesn't know abusive. She's got a fucking over controlling babying fucking mother, and a dumb fucking Pot head father, she doesn't know SHIT about being abused.
In typical Washington Township fashion, everyone knew before my brother did. She told her mother, her father, her brother, all her friends, before she told my brother.
She told him she was going to wait till my parents got back from vacation to break up with him, because they had plans and she felt bad breaking.
She felt bad breaking plans, she felt bad breaking plans that my brother would have to shell out money for, she felt bad breaking plans that my grandmother was going to cook for them.
She felt bad breaking plans, but didn't feel bad breaking my brother's fucking heart.
My parents gave my brother a whole fuckton of shit about him dating this girl. She wasn't the most exciting person in the world, hell he took her to see Aaron Lewis' solo and acoustic show, and she sat there emotionless. I wasn't fond of her, but I kept my mouth shut, because i knew how hard my brother felt about her. And my parents aren't making it any easier on him, but I understand they are doing what they feel is right for him, and I know it hurts them just as much as it hurts me to see him upset, but when he tells me that it hurts when they bring it up, I don't know what to do.
I did write a story about this four years ago when they were only kind of dating, and she pulled a stunt similar to this. He went back with her, and i let it go then, but I'm telling you, if I ever see this walking piece of cunt on the street, it is going to take every ounce of self will in my body not to hit her, and I have never hit a girl in my life.
But mark my words, if she is ever at a party, and I happen to be there, and she happens to be enjoying homemade jungle juice, I'll be sure to give it my special touch. That's for sure.
As far as my brother goes, I think he is going to be okay, but he sure as shit isn't okay now. He talks to me because I'm his older brother, but it isn't easy. Hearing him tell me that he didn't think it would be this hard, absolutely destroys me. I can't stand it. Seeing him trying to hold back tears is the most painful thing I've ever witnessed, and it's bad.
I tell him whatever i can to try and make him see that there is light. I tell him he has to learn from this, and that he has to apply what ever went wrong in this relationship to the next one. I tell him that although its shitty now, it's going to get better, because as we all know, it does. He tells me he thinks about her a lot, and i tell him it's normal, because it is. I tell him to listen to the music he loves. I tell him to get lost in music because it's what i did. I also tell him that till the end of time, he will compare every girl to this one. It was his first girlfriend, his first young love, it's only human for him to bleed from the inside.
I know this post is shit, and its not very eloquent, but sometimes things like this aren't polished. The look on my brother's face isn't polished, its stripped, raw, and fucking real. His emotions, and my rage, aren't sugar coated, they are sour, they are honest.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
News Radio
Because I miss my friends ever so, I am going to post a story I wrote that was inspired by one of them a few months ago, enjoy!
Badly.
Just look at her.
Look at the way she’s wearing that “new; old school” Edie Sedgwick short cut she spent papa’s 52 dollars and a tip on at the fancy hair salon on main.
The way she walks through the door of the restaurant, trying hard not to seem like she’s looking around to see who noticed her walk in the door, which in turn just makes it seem even more obvious. She knows she looks good, and she knows her fathers’ cash was money well spent, yet her past won’t let her believe it.
Raped at the age of 12.
Heart broken at 19.
Scarred for the duration of the flight.
She tells all of her close friends that all she wants is companionship, love, and someone to ask her how she is and really mean it. Her friends tell her she’s beautiful and petite and that she is going to have it all one day. Her past tells her she is ugly, pathetic and going no where.
She sits down at the table with another stranger she feels might give her what she wants. He’s dressed conservatively with a plain navy suit, solid blue shirt and dark blue tie. They both order the fish and sip their waters as the man talks about whatever it is he feels she might be interested in. She isn’t and it shows by her wandering eyes.
She sees a middle age couple laughing
She sees a family of five peacefully eating.
She sees nothing she recognizes.
It’s not that the man isn’t handsome, he is, and it’s not that what he is saying isn’t interesting; its just she is incessantly worried about everything around her. Like a newborn she tries to soak it all in. Like a scientist she is trying to figure out how it all fits into the formula that is her self conscious.
They finish their meals, skip dessert and leave a nice tip. The man offers his coat to her as they walk out, it has begun to rain and neither of them are the news radio type, thus they came with no umbrella. She politely accepts the offer, and flashes one of the few “soul baring” smiles of the night. They exit the restaurant and enter the rain soaked dark. I watch them as the walk rapidly outside.
Water falling from the sky.
Water hitting the black of the night.
Water flowing through her hair.
'Alyssa'
She’s the girl who wants it.Badly.
Just look at her.
Look at the way she’s wearing that “new; old school” Edie Sedgwick short cut she spent papa’s 52 dollars and a tip on at the fancy hair salon on main.
The way she walks through the door of the restaurant, trying hard not to seem like she’s looking around to see who noticed her walk in the door, which in turn just makes it seem even more obvious. She knows she looks good, and she knows her fathers’ cash was money well spent, yet her past won’t let her believe it.
Raped at the age of 12.
Heart broken at 19.
Scarred for the duration of the flight.
She tells all of her close friends that all she wants is companionship, love, and someone to ask her how she is and really mean it. Her friends tell her she’s beautiful and petite and that she is going to have it all one day. Her past tells her she is ugly, pathetic and going no where.
She sits down at the table with another stranger she feels might give her what she wants. He’s dressed conservatively with a plain navy suit, solid blue shirt and dark blue tie. They both order the fish and sip their waters as the man talks about whatever it is he feels she might be interested in. She isn’t and it shows by her wandering eyes.
She sees a middle age couple laughing
She sees a family of five peacefully eating.
She sees nothing she recognizes.
It’s not that the man isn’t handsome, he is, and it’s not that what he is saying isn’t interesting; its just she is incessantly worried about everything around her. Like a newborn she tries to soak it all in. Like a scientist she is trying to figure out how it all fits into the formula that is her self conscious.
They finish their meals, skip dessert and leave a nice tip. The man offers his coat to her as they walk out, it has begun to rain and neither of them are the news radio type, thus they came with no umbrella. She politely accepts the offer, and flashes one of the few “soul baring” smiles of the night. They exit the restaurant and enter the rain soaked dark. I watch them as the walk rapidly outside.
Water falling from the sky.
Water hitting the black of the night.
Water flowing through her hair.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Purge
I need something.
I need something new to outlet my emotions. Wow, if that wasn't the most Emo fucking thing ever written on here, than I don't know what is.
I need something new to outlet my emotions. Wow, if that wasn't the most Emo fucking thing ever written on here, than I don't know what is.
What I'm trying to say is, I need a new outlet for what goes on inside.
This blog is great for me, and I love it, and I am going to use it more and more, but it can only serve so much as a purpose as an outlet. I need something a bit stronger, a bit more cathartic.
I want to be in a band. I want to fucking be in the most angry band ever. I want to write songs and scream till my fucking lungs bleed. I have always wanted to do this, I've thought about it many times. It wouldn't be about being good necessarily, or even being popular, I just want to be in a band that plays basements and fucking parties, and the occasional hipster bar.
Some of you might say, "my god, are you really that angry?" And to be honest, yes and no, I'm pretty angry sometimes sure, but I have a pretty sweet life, and this is why the little things that do get me angry or upset tend to fester, because i really have no right to complain. But if I must say, all of the people I have met in heavy bands have been extremely happy, nice, content people. They use their time on stage, or behind their microphone, guitar, kit, etc, to deal with and "release" whatever it is that bothers them.
A therapy of sorts.
The only people I have met that were in sad, heavy bands, and were still sad and depressed after the music stopped, were in terrible bands that didn't actually care about their sound or what they were saying, they were just acting the part that they thought they needed to act.
One of the people that reads this blog told me the other day that they thought my blog was really good, and I thanked him for the compliment, and really it was nice to hear, but I got to thinking...am I writing this for it to be good or bad? Is this about quality? No, it isn't, and although i was glad to hear that I have people that actually read my ramblings and grumblings, I realized I don't care if this is good or bad, just like i wouldn't care about if my band was good or bad, all i would care about is whether or not it was what I wanted it to be. I think it would do a lot for my Psyche.
Or maybe i should be as cool as this kid and get a tattoo:
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Cooler
Some days man, some fucking days are just shitty fucking days.
Worst part is, when you have one of these days, and you aren't terrible upset, nor did anything really all that bad happen to you.
No, these kind of days are worse. These are the kind of days where you really have dick to do with your time, thus you let your mind wonder to places it shouldn't go.
I'll elaborate.
Today i had nothing to do but go to class at 6:30, so I sat around all day and festered on my inadequacies and all of the things that are going on right now that I am not too happy about. I thought about my lack of motivation to engage in any real sort of physical activity, and then i thought about why i should be motivated to engage in physical activity. I got down on myself about how I really have nothing left to look forward to this summer except for the Dark Knight coming out, and the new Staind CD on august 19th.
I'm losing one of my best friends that I've had for the past eight years to a terribly stupid addiction, and no matter how much i scream and yell at him about how much i care, it doesn't get through, and even when I make a mistake and fuel his addiction I'm given no choice but to make him pay for it because of his inability to realize he is destroying himself day by day.
My social life, albeit pretty solid, has some major fucking flaws in it. My two best friends are away, one in Boston, the other in the fucking Dominican. My other two best friends here at home are leaving by the fall, one to China and the other to Delaware. Three out of my four best friends from School are either too busy to celebrate her own 21st, too far to afford to be able to see me, or doesn't have a car, or even a license for that matter, and lives about an hour away. I'm (finally) coupling with girls that I have been crazily enamoured with for years, yet instead of trying to build on these acts, or instead of being upfront and social about my feelings or drive to start something serious, I'm talking to them like I talk to all of the other pieces of waste I've shared a bed with in college.
I'm in the sort of mood where I have no idea what kind of music I want to listen to, it seems the only CD that really brings a smile to my face is a 10 year old New Radicals album that I don't think they even press copies of anymore, oh that's right, even the lead singer thought they were a one hit wonder so he fucking ended the band. Shame, that CD is incredible.
My parents have been gone for a week and a half, and I'm all fucking alone in my house, which was cool for the first few days, but now I really have nothing to do. My mother might get on my ass for the dumbest of shit sometimes, but at least fighting with her was something to do.
I can't talk to my best friends about something that has kept me from having a good night's sleep since last week. As much as I tell people I like it, I think I fucking hate working at the steakhouse, and I miss the comfortably of the Chee. Besides when I write in this stupid thing, the Internet fucking bores me senseless.
This isn't a pity pull, I just want to know what gets you people when you get into one of these moods, what do you think about when you have nothing but time to kill?
I don't need anyone to tell me everything is going to be okay, or that I am a good person. I know I am, and I know my life is great, so if you came here to do that, thanks, but please take it somewhere else. Really.
I'm just having one of those days.
Worst part is, when you have one of these days, and you aren't terrible upset, nor did anything really all that bad happen to you.
No, these kind of days are worse. These are the kind of days where you really have dick to do with your time, thus you let your mind wonder to places it shouldn't go.
I'll elaborate.
Today i had nothing to do but go to class at 6:30, so I sat around all day and festered on my inadequacies and all of the things that are going on right now that I am not too happy about. I thought about my lack of motivation to engage in any real sort of physical activity, and then i thought about why i should be motivated to engage in physical activity. I got down on myself about how I really have nothing left to look forward to this summer except for the Dark Knight coming out, and the new Staind CD on august 19th.
I'm losing one of my best friends that I've had for the past eight years to a terribly stupid addiction, and no matter how much i scream and yell at him about how much i care, it doesn't get through, and even when I make a mistake and fuel his addiction I'm given no choice but to make him pay for it because of his inability to realize he is destroying himself day by day.
My social life, albeit pretty solid, has some major fucking flaws in it. My two best friends are away, one in Boston, the other in the fucking Dominican. My other two best friends here at home are leaving by the fall, one to China and the other to Delaware. Three out of my four best friends from School are either too busy to celebrate her own 21st, too far to afford to be able to see me, or doesn't have a car, or even a license for that matter, and lives about an hour away. I'm (finally) coupling with girls that I have been crazily enamoured with for years, yet instead of trying to build on these acts, or instead of being upfront and social about my feelings or drive to start something serious, I'm talking to them like I talk to all of the other pieces of waste I've shared a bed with in college.
I'm in the sort of mood where I have no idea what kind of music I want to listen to, it seems the only CD that really brings a smile to my face is a 10 year old New Radicals album that I don't think they even press copies of anymore, oh that's right, even the lead singer thought they were a one hit wonder so he fucking ended the band. Shame, that CD is incredible.
My parents have been gone for a week and a half, and I'm all fucking alone in my house, which was cool for the first few days, but now I really have nothing to do. My mother might get on my ass for the dumbest of shit sometimes, but at least fighting with her was something to do.
I can't talk to my best friends about something that has kept me from having a good night's sleep since last week. As much as I tell people I like it, I think I fucking hate working at the steakhouse, and I miss the comfortably of the Chee. Besides when I write in this stupid thing, the Internet fucking bores me senseless.
This isn't a pity pull, I just want to know what gets you people when you get into one of these moods, what do you think about when you have nothing but time to kill?
I don't need anyone to tell me everything is going to be okay, or that I am a good person. I know I am, and I know my life is great, so if you came here to do that, thanks, but please take it somewhere else. Really.
I'm just having one of those days.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Lightning Crashes
A lot of people talk about accomplishing things. People talk about climbing their "Mount Everests," in other words, doing things that seem impossible to many, or just impossible to them, but they work through the hard times and do it. Using their "roof toilet" is what you Scrubs fans out there might say.
I have many "Everests" that I want to climb in my life, I wanna be a Talent Agent, I wanna make money, I wanna make money so I can buy myself and my family nice things. I wanna weigh 180 pounds, etc.
I recently received something that I had been wanting for a while, it wasn't an Everest by any stretch of the imagination, not at all, but it was something that I had been working on for the past few years. Well, not working on, I don't want to give you some mental image of me looking like one of the Seven Dwarfs, getting up every day and hammering out some monster fucking mission with a weird hat on, and a really baggy onsey, so maybe I haven't been working on this for a while, but I sure as hell have been thinking about getting this for quite some time.
This weekend this thing I've been "jonesing" for came to fruition, and to be honest, I can't decide if it's a good thing or not, or really what's going to come from it, if anything at all. I keep trying to decide whether or not any of it was even worth it. I mean when Led Zeppelin was writing "Stairway" do you think they knew they were writing the greatest song of all time? Do you think they sat there thinking, "hmm maybe if we had this string arraignment here, or a guitar solo here, it'll be the greatest fucking recording ever, ahh fuck it let's go throw lunch meat on the groupies..." Although I'm sure they covered many a woman with coldcuts, I highly doubt they knew the importance of what they were doing while recording that song. Only after its release and years of praise did its true greatness become exposed.
So should i judge my recent dealings after only a few nights of pondering its importance, or do I let it sit and burden my thoughts for say, the next 10 or 15 years?
Worst of all, I have absolutely no one to talk to about this that will truly understand the importance of it all in the mini spectrum of my life. All the people that can be trusted with this sensitive material wouldn't understand the importance of the actions, and all of the people that would truly realized the epic proportions of said events wouldn't be able to contain the information. Hell no one would be able to.
So I guess my question is, how do you talk to someone about something, without really telling them what you're talking about? God knows I need to talk to someone. Or maybe I should just pay a stripper to let me throw lunch meat at her.
Hey, it worked for Led Zeppelin.
I have many "Everests" that I want to climb in my life, I wanna be a Talent Agent, I wanna make money, I wanna make money so I can buy myself and my family nice things. I wanna weigh 180 pounds, etc.
I recently received something that I had been wanting for a while, it wasn't an Everest by any stretch of the imagination, not at all, but it was something that I had been working on for the past few years. Well, not working on, I don't want to give you some mental image of me looking like one of the Seven Dwarfs, getting up every day and hammering out some monster fucking mission with a weird hat on, and a really baggy onsey, so maybe I haven't been working on this for a while, but I sure as hell have been thinking about getting this for quite some time.
This weekend this thing I've been "jonesing" for came to fruition, and to be honest, I can't decide if it's a good thing or not, or really what's going to come from it, if anything at all. I keep trying to decide whether or not any of it was even worth it. I mean when Led Zeppelin was writing "Stairway" do you think they knew they were writing the greatest song of all time? Do you think they sat there thinking, "hmm maybe if we had this string arraignment here, or a guitar solo here, it'll be the greatest fucking recording ever, ahh fuck it let's go throw lunch meat on the groupies..." Although I'm sure they covered many a woman with coldcuts, I highly doubt they knew the importance of what they were doing while recording that song. Only after its release and years of praise did its true greatness become exposed.
So should i judge my recent dealings after only a few nights of pondering its importance, or do I let it sit and burden my thoughts for say, the next 10 or 15 years?
Worst of all, I have absolutely no one to talk to about this that will truly understand the importance of it all in the mini spectrum of my life. All the people that can be trusted with this sensitive material wouldn't understand the importance of the actions, and all of the people that would truly realized the epic proportions of said events wouldn't be able to contain the information. Hell no one would be able to.
So I guess my question is, how do you talk to someone about something, without really telling them what you're talking about? God knows I need to talk to someone. Or maybe I should just pay a stripper to let me throw lunch meat at her.
Hey, it worked for Led Zeppelin.
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