Notes on so called "Characters"

Characters in this blog are based loosely around real people when I'm referring to dreams and such. Usually amalgamations of multiple personalities as people shade together. Real events happen with real people in real time. Or fast or slow time depending on how fast you read. Most events are true. Some events may be false. Names have been changed to represent a facet of said individuals that most struck me when I made them up. Some are frivoulous and without meaning (eg. Scooter), some represent a distinct portion of their personality that I am most often exposed to (eg. Animegirl), others such things are perosnalized stereotyping have come into play on names or are bastardizations of nicknames.


I just got a new keyboard. It is small, black, cheap, and without features. But has a small style backspace key so I'm having trouble typing sometimes because I don't normally type letter perfect first go around, but continually edit out my mistakes. Being use to a "double width" backspace key is beginning to throw me off on this new keyboard. But it was only $11 so I think that's a good thing. The keys also seem to be slightly smaller. At least this keyboard is clean without a year or so of me spilling crap on it and accumulated debris of my life falling on it.

I think eating nachos while playing computer games finally did in the other keyboard for me. Ew, greasy.

things I'm embarassed about not enough to not admit them

-I dumped my very first girlfriend without provocation to satisfy my own ego.
-My favorite movie of all time is a romantic comedy.
-I tell lies on occasion to make me feel better about myself.
-I would sleep with my closest friends' girlfriends if and only if they dumped their boyfriends... First. As in before I would sleep with them.
-I feel better about myself when drunk even though I become like unto a tardmuffin addicted to coke without any coke.
-Nearly all the scars on my body are self inflicted via stupidity.
-I have outstared a cat. On multile occasions. One time I had to throw something at it so it would stop trying to outstare me. I am the master of the unblinking glare.
-I use to want to sleep with a girl who I intellectually despised and enjoyed inflicting suffering on.
-I once went out to lunch and ate an entire 12-ounce steak in front of a vegetarian just because he was a vegetarian. I had it rare. It wasn't that good but I said it was.
-I have far more single guy friends than single girl friends. I blame my female friends for not knowing more hot women that they can introduce me too.
-I have far greater expectations than can be reasonably expected for one in my situation pretaining to women, academia, the forgiveness of others, and future careers.

Sunshine and Lolley Pops

I couldn't think of a good title so I just did that.

So how's the world been treating ME this picosecond... Decent. Friday was fun. Saturday was a wasted day as I associated only with some girl (?) in Ontario while playing World of WarCraft. I need a new keyboard. I didn't watch the Oscars. I skipped class on Friday out of apathy. I'm like Cherry ice cream according to an eerily accurate online test. Eery. That doesn't seem right, but it is. I am wasting my life.

Morning Vitamins

This morning, after I neglected to get out of bed when my alarm went off and was awaked by my fourth-string-emergency sleep-in alarm, but it was okay I don't have class until noon today, I stumbled downstairs to break my fast on some cheerios with bananas on them. I sniffed a few times because I think I'm coming down with a little bit of a cold. My mom immediately jumped me and told me I should try taking this "COLD FX" stuff. 3 with every meal today, 2 tommorow and 1 the next day and I would be fine. I told her to "bugger that" because today the last thing I need is some weird chemicals going around my system messing up my concentration. Having to blow my nose every few minutes is not penalty in my mind except as a bit of an annoyance. But being unable to concentrate on thermodynamics studying today? That'll cost me dearly indeed.

So instead, I've decided to instead see how much Vitamin C I can deploy again this enrushing disease. Taking 2 vitamin C supplement pills and a massive glass of orange juice. I believe I have taken in around 2000% of my daily recommended intake.

Enter Happiness, Stage Left

I am feeling good now. Not good. Great. Fantastic. Fantabulis. There is no word to properly describe my current mental outlook. Ain't nothing gonna break my stride as it were. Until Thursday at 10 am. When the dreaded, yet hasn't begun to concern me, Thermodynamics exam hits. It will surely scythe me down out of this induced state of euphoria propped up my own academic and social successes in recent times (recent beings the last 5 minutes for academic and social being the last few hours).

Happiness. A warm fluffy feeling that clouds the mind with the best of thoughts, yet sharpens my mind to its keenest edge. I want things to stay this way forever. But suffering at other times makes this happiness all the more welcome like giving a glass of water to a man dying of thirst. Naturally to further this metaphor. I would be the man baking in the hot sun. Sitting in a boat, on a freshwater lake, except the lake is slightly murky. So I refuse to drink the water. Regardless of how thirsty and hot I may be. For the murkiness could be hiding anything... Well I'll be, that's a finely constructed metaphor. I like it. Good imagry.

Digitally Imported for the win over homework. Trance is my friend. Vocal Trance is my on and off friend who sometimes is far cooler than Trance but has crazy mood swings and is occasionally bitchy.

DL said she loved me. That gives me warm fluffy feeling inside. But sort of a glass shard wrapped in fluffy pink clouds. Damn platonic love never did anyone any good... More metaphors. That one less pleasing. But I shall leave it in anyway.

I love me too. For the moment. I might just brave the cold weather and go for a quick walk, in to the Village or just quick walk around the block. Clear my head. Maybe see what Scooter is up too and see if he wants to go for a walk.

Damn brain going to fast for fingers. Ah well, outties. Toodles Bloggerworld.

Just before I left on my walk, shortly after I completed talking to DL... I realised I couldn't recall her face in as crisp detail as I use to. Saddening. But part of my life that I have to deal with. Maybe one day I should get photos and take pictures of all the people that are important to me. Crystalize a moment in time for them all. Make a big board with tacked up photos of them all, then as time passes, cover up older photos with more modern ones. A stored memory.
Note to self: Take pictures with digital camera. Investigate printing costs of normal photo digital camera pictures at various venues.

Post Spring Break Trauma

I just didn't manage to finish my thermodynamics assignemnt due tommorow. Can't seem to do it. Probalby due to spring break just ending. The little bit of a buffer of good effort has been worn away by the laziness of the break. I got so much stuff to do that I can't stand to look at it. Makes me worry and stress out. It's killing me. But not really.
Sometimes I jealously gaze upon my more dedicated aquaintances and friends who will go on to success in life while I squander my intelligence and time in this world in at some menial job.

Then again, I sincerely think that regardless of how things go for me... Everything will turn out all right. After all, I am The Good Guy.

Dim Sum Rock Star

This chinese food thing, it just doesn't do anything for me. Except fill me up for far less than a good honest steak would cost. The Between States rock show went off well to. I've already ripped their CD to my computer. I'm trying to decide if it is worth pushing around the internet. Probalby would get a better distribution if I turned it into a mp3 with a blanked video component and name is hotbarnyardsluts.mp3 but that would be a gross deception of small fraction of the internet population who's only crime is to have fucked up fetishes. Sick bastards.

Except Scooter found this blog because of a momentarily slip up on my part. Fug. Only a matter of time I guess. I wonder if I should unpublish this entire thing now and move... Or maybe I should just get a bucket of Ben & Jerry's and watch Depersate Housewives on DVD. Okay so I don't own the DVD. But DVDs can be arranged. As can ice cream. Nah, the Texas Cheesesteak Massacre pleases me to much. To much work to go move. So Scooter, you're stuck being Scooter. Sucker.

Oh well, back to Chinese food, it isn't that it is bad, just that is so different from anything I normally eat for me to be comfortable eating it. Well, totally comfortable at any rate. Sometime you just gotta trust the Delilah that it is actually food and not like sheep eyes or something weird like that.

Oh well, back to studying I guess. Spring break is almost over... Back to the grind. At least I'm not stressed out anymore. Oh wait, Thermodynamics midterm Thursday. Um. Ass.

Between States rock show

My good friends, the members of "Between States" (or something like that), those friends being, Gold, Copycat, The Percusion Section, and Scooter, have a show tommorow at PC's house. I am attending. They will be rocking me out to such hits as... Um. Gambling Man. And... Allergic to Sanity. And I'm sure many other excellent songs. They play an interesting combination of Punk-New Age-Disco-Pop-Rock-Alternative-Ska-Grunge. It is very complicated music. But they pull it off beautifully and make it seem really simple. Except sadly, Scooter is going away for an appreciable fraction of my current length of lifetime come April. So they're going to have to find another cazoo-synth-full bass player combined with islandic moaning. Might be hard, scooter is a tough act to follow.

Sixteen months is a long time for someone to be away from home. Away from all their friends. I kind of want to visit him while he's gone and mooch off him for a week in far off Toronto. But alas, I am stared straight in the eyes but he shocking realization that the world isn't tailored to my every whim and the logistics of such a journey would be surely costly and definitely beyond my current means. Even if I go visit him for a few weeks in August after working all Summer, with my mounting tuition debts, I doubt I can take the time off and purchase the costly airline or bus tickets. Considering a ticket would cost $329.83. Each way. I wonder how quickly I could get a JOB in T.O. Probalby not fast enough really to make it worth while. Unless I could find one sooner and stay there ALL SUMMER with Scooter. That would rock hard.

I nearly had to curl up in a ball in a ray of sunshine through my sliding glass door this morning. It was so cold and windy outside yet the sun was bright and the sky clear. I was so tempted to go outside and go for a walk or something. But I knew deep in my heart it was around 7 degrees celcius. So I didn't and wasted my day away as per usual. Tommorow I got to get some work done I think. Oh wait! No I don't! I got to enjoy my concert! My favorite part is when disco and ska team up on grunge.

Late night Chili and Strawberry-Swirl

I wake up, the air smells like how under ripe bananas taste. Biomed has poked me in the back of the head with his pencil, "Wake up." he quietly implores me. I've fallen asleep in... What's this class now? None of my current ones... Glancing around and smiling as Biomed waves his pencil at me in a reproving fashion. Embarassment, I've fallen asleep right in the front row of the class. Again. The dialouge of someone who tries but has never quite gotten a handle on English drones at the front of the class. I can't tell what she's teaching... Philosphy, maybe English Lit, from the the overhead she's gesturing at with a laser pointer that shoots a solid blue beam that sweeps the emphasized phrases, "The struggle between good and evil with overtones of sexual frustration is most apparantly apparant...", the rest blurs out as she moves on. In what appears to be the Hebb Theatre. The professor looks like the Dancing Lady but has the voice of Animegirl but with a halting uncertain dialouge instead of the embarassed exasperation.

Glancing down at what I've written, I'm confused. It seems that instead of writing down notes, I have a smudged pencil drawing of Link holding the Master Sword but looking shocked as the tip of the blade has metamorphised into Cthulu... Cthulu chewing on what appears to be an owl's talon, presumably the rest of the owl is already inside.

Not really the Dancing Lady though, more like the DL in 20, maybe 25 years. She's still beautiful. She still has an impish grin. Impish in a good way though.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, it isn't Biomed though, Biomed has disappeared. It seems that now the Doctor is behind me. "You know, this isn't even your class." I dig a schedual out of my pocket. Appears he is right, I should be in HebB theatre for... Quantum Mechanics Non-Linear Proofs of the Existance of God. It is abbreviated as QuaMeNoLPExig 708 on my schedual. But that's what it is. "Oh, you're right. How'd you know? It's only the first day."

"It isn't the first day, it is the week nine." I've been asleep for nine weeks in the front row. Why didn't Biomed wake me up sooner? "- And why does it smell like how under ripe bananas taste?"

The doctor shrugs and simply responds, "It smells that way becau-".

Blink. Oh, it is 9:15 in the morning. Time to get up. Don't you hate it when I miss the big ending.

Like a twisting nether thing

I wasted another day of my spring break. But at least I don't sleep. I slumber... Merely the edge of sleep. Something almost awake, yet so far away from truely awakfulness. I slumber... Like an elder god or monster from the depths of the world, sea, or imagination. Or as the good Doctor puts it, "like a twisting nether thing". So true. Slumbering is so much better than sleep. For it implies to me at least, the inevitability of a wakefulness. For something slumbering merely lies dormat. It never really goes completely away.

See you tommorow here in anonymityville. I'm loving it here already.

Dreaming of Stuffs

So I had a dream last night. Damn was it cool. I mean there were hot chicks, helicopters, explosions, more hot chicks, guys with guns trying unsuccessfully to kill me, even more hot chicks, and the good guy winning. That would be me, the good guy.

But after about 3 minutes after waking up I couldn't remember any of it. Why is that? When you first wake up normally your dreams seem so vivid and the pseudomemories of them trace burning white lines across your concious. But very quickly... they're gone. I should keep a notepad by my bed just so I can quickly jot down what I dreamed about the night before. Sadly, when I wake up to the blarring of my alarm clock, blasting out early morning and very poorly tuned 99.3 The Fox. As the screaming of Kurt Cobain and white noise blast me out of my nice restless sleep.

Now, today I waste it away playing World of WarCraft with a friend of mine. Hopefully I'll go out sometime today and not waste another day of my precious Spring Break before I have to go to school again.

So, a new blog is it?

Yet another new blog. The back edge of the tidal wave of blogdom. That's what I'm all about. To resistant to new things, yet fully accepting of things only after they've become passe. Used up. Drawn out. Tired.

Who am I? A mystery. An enigma. Possibly a machine.
None of the above. I'm really very simple. I am just another human being in the horde. Masquerading as an original person merely by having very obscure sources. The bibliography of my life is three tiers deep.

Why the "Texas Cheesesteak Massacre"? Well, frankly. I made this the day after Valintine's Day at 2 in the morning after drinking a bit (I'm single, on a day for couples, can you blame me?). It sounded cool. It doesn't mean anything. At least not to my concious mind. Maybe later on another layer of the onion of my soul will be peeled back to reveal deep hidden meanings. But I doubt it.

Nobody knows about this blog. But I like leaving hints. Like an inventory based adventure game sort of. With exagerated hints. Only instead of exagerated, I've decided to hide it a bit.
For instance. Maybe you did some odd google search based on something I said. Or something I posted on my silly LiveJournal. There are no thoughts there, only the meanderings of madmen and geniuses.

Paragraphs that have fully developped ideas are for people with fully developped ideas. With a mind going a mile a minute, it is hard to keep up with these clacking away fingers dancing on the keys.

Kharnican. I don't know where it came from. It has roots in the Chaos gods of the Warhammer 40,000 universe. I don't know, I just started using it one day. It just sort of came to me. Probably just another way for people to find me since I use it quite a bit. Like a pathetic cry for help. I'll make the path easy, but I constantly want people to take the first step. Reach out a hand. Whatever. I may not take the hand and often I have thrust it away. But the fact that someone bothered to reach... That gives me a warm feeling. I start to care again. But I'd just like to state for the record that I've always thought of myself as a good guy. I wonder... When did people start associating me with evil? I know far eviller people than me. I know a few that are WAY more evil than me, yet more socially accepted. I'd blame society, but sadly I know where the blame truely lies, right here, on my shoulders. It is mine to carry because I did it to myself. I have nobody else to blame.

It is not the darkest right before the dawn. Just before dawn it can be quite bright out depending on atmospheric conditions. Sadly it is still plenty dark around here. Where did all the light go anyway.

Now, for a final statement on Valintine's Day... I know so many people say this holiday means nothing. That they hate it. Or it is stupid.
But frankly? It IS important. It is a holiday for the people in love. And they may all do the same sappy things that everyone else does. But the that doesn't dimish the fact that people have done sappy things for years just because, well, it works. The sappiness I mean. I mean, jeeze, the thing is, even girls may go "Oh that's so sappy," at that sort of stuff in romantic (-comedies) but the thing is, they keep watching them just because they love that sort of thing.

Too imature for love. To cynical to be loved.

I wonder if this will become a daily blog or just another abandonned project of mine started up a fit of... something. Definitely a fit though. Probably depression. There are such artifacts strewn around the interweb. Not important enough for me to remember they even exist.

The best part about having a terrible memory:
The bad parts of life are eventually forgotten.

The worst part:
The good parts go away a lot faster than the bad parts.

I mean, the closest thing I ever felt to love was mid to late summer of the year of our lord, two thousand and four. I can barely call her face to mind. At the time, it crystalized in my mind and was there forever. Now, it has faded out... The features dimmed and faded. I could still pick her out of a crowd (given I was close enough to see her, curse my vision), but I cannot call her face to the crystal clear memory.

All that is left is my feelings. Hate, jealousy and sadness.

Maybe one day I'll forget her entirely. Let young love go forever. Like it had never been. Or closed off behind so many doors that dust coats it so thoroughly so as to completely obscure it. Maybe that will be a good thing. I doubt it though. I hold on to my pain. Keep my emotional wounds fresh and stinging. They remind me I'm alive. The details may get washed out, but the shape will remain.

I've been typing for half an hour. A stream of conciousness. I guess this isn't going to be a daily-events blog sort of thing. Maybe it'll turn into that if I ever have an interesting life.