I have officially been up for 24 hours

So that's weird... I haven't done that in literally like 20 years... And I really don't feel just dead like I thought I would. I figured everything would be all discombobulated and surreal... not so much really. It's just sort of like ... I'm kinda tired. But I don't want to stop moving and stuff... I have to go to the gym. If I stop, I will talk myself out of going.

And now for something completely different...

So tonight, I start third shift. This is full of suck. It's too quiet and apparently they turn off the ac at 10... so it's hot. Those are two horrible ingredients to have for a 12-9 shift. It's going to be hard to stay awake. Moreover, tomorrow at 9, I am going to have to will myself to go to the gym. It isn't an option. More so now that I have written it down. I will not allow myself to ruin all the years of hard work it took to get to this point just because it's a little inconvenient. I think I have a thing to write tonight... it's brewing in my head but it isn't really complete enough... I hesitate to use the word "poem" because there have been plenty of other, actual writers, people with talent who write poems. I just get words out of my head that are causing me some kind of unrest. So generally I will let it brew until there is something real there... then I'll start writing, I usually don't know where it will go or what it will say or how it will end up, it just sort of flows out. So that's what that is.

What, That Was?

Looking through the portals of my mind
I feel as though I may be going blind
If every day, do I see the same
Then what recalls the portal's name?

More to the point, where is the now?
A moment upon my furrowed brow,
To speak again with those who fade
Must I wish for the debt to be paid?

Is there time now for me to care?
Is there chance for a soul to bare
What pause must be given with you in mind
Yet you take and take, and far behind

I'm sick of all the popular speak
Condemned to live the life of Freak
Finger on the conscious nerve
Navigating through with skill and verve

The crowd gathers to watch in awe
As I deftly avoid the gaping maw
Spectacle makes for exciting life
Filling a hole, void of strife

Respectfully I take my leave of you now
Hearing the applause I take a bow
The lights come down and curtains fall
As I fade away in to shadows tall

Triad72712

Compiling Theories of Life and the Migration Patterns of Cells

And that's about the extent of creativity I have today. It's yet another one of those days, where I feel as though I need to purge myself of some extra emotional energy, but I don't really have anything specific about which to write. Not really focused on anything in particular, not really dialed in to any one thing. Although, I suppose looking back over this week, there is at least one event which transpired that I do feel the need to talk about.

I'm on the phone I think maybe monday or tuesday of this week, talking to a friend, getting some advice on owning your own business. While I'm on the phone, I tend to walk around because I don't know why, actually. I just do. Anyway, I wander over near a cubicle where this person works I know. I know her from way back in the day, when I used to date her sister. Or maybe it was her sister-in-law... or cousin... at any rate, I dated someone who was related to her. So, I'm on the phone, talking to this dude and suddenly she pops up out of her cube and says, "hey - did you hear about jan? she is dead." I may as well have rounded a blind corner and been struck square in the face with a 2x4. I mean what do you say to something like that? I abruptly and unceremoniously got off the phone to find out that one of my first girlfriends, a girl I dated back in 90/91, had recently passed away. She was 5 years older than me, 45. She had a heart attack. As soon as I heard this, my mind thought back to all the good times we had, from making mix tapes to "burying Dom" to racing each other on the highway and spending the night in the back of my nissan at stone mountain park. Ultimately we weren't meant to be and broke up. Many years later, I heard it speculated that she and one of my best friends at the time were cheating behind my back. I don't know if it was true and ultimately, especially now, it doesn't matter. Still, she was too young to die of a heart attack. And as selfish as this sounds, I realized shortly after hearing this that I had just experienced the death of someone with whom I had sex. I am working very hard, trying to keep the thoughts and feelings of "congratulations, you are old enough that ex-girlfriends are starting to pass away" at bay because that would be very self centered and egotistical. You know, it's one thing for someone you have known at some point in your life to, say, get married... or move to a distant location. You realize that you will most likely never talk to them again, but there is a chance. Anything is possible, you could pass by them walking down the street one day or something. But when they die, I mean that's it. There is no happenstance meeting on the street or in a coffee shop or anything else. And while this isn't about me, really, it's hard not to consider the fact that someone I used to date died of a heart attack. I think what I'm feeling is empathy and a sense of loss. Two things that I am really not accustomed to experiencing. In fact, so foreign is this whole thing to me, I am uncertain as to how I should end this entry, so...

A New Beginning... maybe

Ok, so for the last 6 months or so I have been unemployed. Hence no posts. Haven't really felt like celebrating the fact that I had no job and for all intents and purpose, served no real function in life. But ding, ding, the witch is dead - now I have a job. I should be elated. Not so much. Here's the thing - there's always a thing, while I am very thankful for having an income, and for the amount of that income, this whole profession - that of IT, I hate it. I don't really give a crap about technology, if it wasn't for porn, I would do away with my computers. This *thing* isn't my career, it's just a job... and therein lies the problem. No matter how much money I make, no matter how urgent my particular profession is made out to be, and how much of an integral part of the machine my part really plays, I don't ever feel that way. I don't feel as though what I do matters, because I really don't care about what I do. There's no challenge, it doesn't force me to try and be better. It comes easy. It just sort of flows... works... happens. And because of that, I have become stagnate as a person, I believe. That's why I have decided to meet the realtor tomorrow, and look a the old Basin Creek restaurant. I am seriously considering buying it and starting something of my own design. I don't have any misconceptions about getting rich off running a restaurant, and in fact, it may very well fail and I'll be back here again. But whether it fails or whether it succeeds, it will be a direct result of my actions. I don't know what I will call it yet, I don't know what kind of place it will be... I don't have all the details yet, I do know there will be a small lounge area with a couch and a couple of chairs... maybe a hookah. Maybe not. Not sure about the hookah. And who knows, none of this may come to fruition. I may get shunted at the bank and knocked down a few pegs. But at least I tried. And i may even succeed. I'm just tired of working for other people and not having anything of my own. I'm tired of not having an answer to the question "so, what have you been up to lately..."