benblog

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UPDATE: 9-7-05

well, I just got back from the Tuesday Trial By Stone show at the Warehouse. It was, in my opinion, their best set so far. They did fuck up once really badly, but they played right through it, and the entire rest of the show sounded better than I'd heard them sound yet.

Anyway, since my last blog entry, my computer is still in the shop, and I am still on my mother's computer. I got banned from viewaskew.com forums by Kevin Smith himself, which is kind of a long story. Longer than I feel like retelling anyway. I'm pretty sure Foxdie hates me also, because of some shit he said earlier today. But, again, neither here nor there.

I may have pissed off sunny too because I confused her sig with slowmo's, who locked a thread on tlfc of mine. I'm more concerned about that, since Foxdie hadn't talked to me in a year anyway, and Kevin Smith, I mean, if having enough time to have a picture taken with a guy constitutes being a great guy, is a great guy, but we'd never have been able to sustain any longer conservation. Although I am flattered that, when I waded through all the all his fans to get to him, he was willing to have two words for me.

And now I'm talking to sunny on msn and she says its cool, so whew. Tek is on too, maybe he'll be up for talking tonight too... maybe. LOL

I had a really good night tonight. The recent situations have made me really appreciate my friends more. I need to be putting more heart into my life. I could really be enjoying myself, if I let myself do so. I don't know why I usually don't.

anyway, time for a smoke and to talk to sunny. LOL

I'll post again later... if ANYTHING happens.

-ben

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UPDATE: 9-18-05

I am stalked by the shadow of beliefs that conspire against me behind my back.

Events have aligned against me, presumably out of punishment for my rewarding myself a respite, a temporary escape, from the inevitability of bad luck.

There's not much worth saying about the details. My accounts banned, my computer broken, my cd's stolen, my friend imprisoned, my car crashed, etc. The details are only the devil's carnival.

Worse things happen to better people every damn day, and often nightly.

There's little point complaining about the perpetrators of injustice, who will continue to remain luxuriously aloft above the righteous consequences due their values. It doesn't matter from one mask worn by Satan to the next, it's always going to be the same great beast behind these mechanations. This isn't being drammatic. This is accepting the barren wasteland of factual reality. Dramma would be angst. I feel nothing.

Perhaps there should be reprisals on the astral level, a realignment of Jupiter and Venus to justify energy and gas corporation financial terrorism. Perhaps the invocation of some hoary intelligence from the nether realms between the aethyrs performed to enforce the morals denied by the cosmic law of irony.

But there would be no real point. Struck once the shamefully wicked rise twice.

Daily I obssess about the girl that got away. I am perpetually suffering while those that laugh at my misfortune sail gracefully beyond the reach of judgment. Their immunity impugns my dignity, and the glory received them deigns their wretched stupidty honour.

How is there justice? How is this fair? More mere mockery's solution is stupidly simple. The more it pains me to suffer the levity of fools, the loftier their pursuits of folly. I am sick to death of the unjust irony that is the watchword of the wicked and the worldly unwise. Please give my upturned heart redemption from the crimes of the ignorant and the sins of the holier. I will not bear it any longer before I begin seeking retribution in the form of the darker arts.

Let the accursed answer for their actions, that I should no longer be the cross bearer of their guiltless guiles. I'd blow a hole from their birth until the very ends of them should I but call their names. Shall I? Oh, Lord My God, shall I finally let fly?

The equality of demons and angels is the price man pays for freedom. Confused, forlorn, he seeks and searches for a reason, a meaning, that none shall ever find. Money is hoarded by and bragged over by the slavering hounds of its shit stink, and the false grandeur that adorns the inwardly proud leaves the humble holy humans wanting.

Love is no answer. Love is a complex mess. It is the complication of other emotions and their stirring up to the boiling point of passion, but in itself none of these feelings. Love is melancholy. Love is the lost emotion.

And those are all that are. Money-demons raised and love-angels lowered. This is the level playing field of mankind's ill-tempered fate. Is it I alone that finds this disgustingly disappointing and inappropriate? Surely we all suffer from the delusion that we alone are the voice of reason in an otherwise utterly insane plenum of universalities.

The scum that is this species slithers the surface of this earth. I wish to God for them both to end, the people that call this place their mortgaged reality, and the realtor Gaia, that insane menstruating bitch from Hades. She bleeds oil to the whips of decadence and pleading for the devil's pleasure begs for more. I would smile as I butchered his victim and her rapist in one glorious spasming finality of mortification.

Death to them all, for all I care. That angels should die that the devils be punished is merely the last necessary injustice in an eternity of otherwise irrational and unjustifiable horrors. Good God, I pray to you, the one truth above all else, outside of all and containing everything. I pray to you: conclude this con-game. Finish your experiment on this, your humble creation, and exact the toll from our flesh that we stole from the eye of your soul. God: KILL MAN.

-ben

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UPDATE: 9-30-05

I live in a hovel made of luck.

Tonight I saw TBS's Thursday show at the Warehouse. A Tanzinian guy named Robert and his brother opened for them. Robert had opened for them two weeks ago when Calvert had been sick, and only D and Buck played. He plays a tribal harp and a guitar, whistles and sings in different languages he knows. It's really phenomenal to see them open for TBS, and tonight was particularly good. The acoustics were perfect, and Buck's vocals the cleanest yet. It was spot on.

Unfortunately I was outside on the back porch during most of the show, feeling miserably lonely, drinking cocoa colas and smoking cigarettes. Jesse came up and asked me why I seemed so glum. Later I had a conversation with Woo, the sound guy, about Ohm's Law. But I was still just... glum.

It's weird. All this bad shit has been happening to me. Bad for me, of course, by which I mean, I am still better off than the average person. But many difficult events have transpired here lately...

I've actually dealt with it all unusually calmly. Puppy died. He had been hit by a car (we think), and undergone a botched unnecessary operation to reset his dislocated hip. He was such a good dog. He was everybody's best friend. He loved everyone, and was always full of joy. And he died in pain. But I perservere. My computer crashed, I crashed my car, one of my best friends, it turns out, has been breaking into my house while I'm not here and stealing my cds. He's made off with most of my favourite music. But things are good. My best friend, Damien, was arrested on a DUI coming home from his own band's show! He spent almost twenty fours in county jail, and had his court date today. He has been assigned a probation officer, will be administered urinalysis tests for drugs and alcohol for six months, has an installment plan for the seven hundred dollar ticket fee, has to pay for drivers ed classes as well as for the boot they are going to put on his car to prevent him from driving for that time, and has such and so many number of hours Sheriff's dept. work duty. Not even community service. The judge was not in any way lenient on my first adult criminal offense friend, and yet he himself feels relieved because "it could have been worse."

This is alot of heavy shit. Yet I haven't really come undone once. Finally, the other night, I decided to half reward myself for keeping so even headed, and half lift my spirits out of the resultant funk of having to cope with all this lately, drink to get drunk. I had about seven or eight beers, and actually managed to feel elated. Since then, until tonight, I've been pretty well on my feet. I've had some explosions online, creating a thread on tlfc called "admit it, you all hate me" and then arguing with tek and sunny about the fact no one visits my forum. But even before Puppy had died, I had been banned from Kevin Smith's forum by Kev himself for mouthing off about his friend's movie short, so my being an asshole online is hardly anything new. All in all, I've kept my head through all of these events as well as I would have had none of them been happening.

Until tonight. Tonight was glum. And not humdrum glum. Not meh. It was a depression. I was surrounded by all of my friends. Everyone I know. Good people. People I admire. And I felt lonely. Not only during the show, but even afterwards hanging out with Buck and D, K-rod and Kay Park after the show. Perhaps it was that they were all in couples. Milli with Calvert, Kelly and D, Buck and K. Simeon is getting married to Micki towards the end of October. They don't want to make a big deal out of it, but it is a big deal to me. Simeon and Damien are both 23. That's how old Mike and Todd (my best friends growing up) were when they each got married too.

Mom is out of town for a few days, and I am holding the fort down by myself. Leia, my cat, and Flora, mom's dog, are here to keep me company at least. They are both adorable, but as much as I can love Leia, as much as I loved my other cat Luke before he was hit and killed by a car, or Puppy, or even any of my friends, or trust them, as much as I can, and as much as I love them all... what? What is missing? What is fucking wrong with this picture??

I am crazy. That is all there is. I am crazy, and this is the calm before the storm. This period of my life is only an appetizer before the main course. Life will improve, it will go on, life will be more and more complex, with more and more benefits. But I will never improve. What I have cannot be cured. Life will go on around me, but I will continue to simply avoid it. Why?? Why am I doing this to myself??

Simeon and I did a guided meditation not long after I started keeping this blog. I told him I couldn't let go. And I still can't. I told him I couldn't forgive myself for once hurting someone that I loved. And I still can't. And I can't go back from that either. I can't turn back time to mend the heart I broke myself. My own.

I want to give myself to God. Tonight I realised God and Goddess are one and the same already. The reunion of the bride with the blushing bridegroom? It will never happen any more than it is happening right now. And for me... that means a spiritual quest. Not a life like my parents, spent in study under the Church. That means that I am alone this time around. I have to get used to that. I need to come to terms with that fucking Fact. I am not going to grow up like my daddy, hiding from fatherhood behind scholasticism and sex with strangers. I am not going to grow up like my dad, because I will never be a dad. That thought scares me. But it's true. I will never... no... never... be a father. I have to face that, and learn to let it go.

I'm not going to ever get married. I am not going to carry on my family name. I remember it all now. When I was young and staring off over the horizon through the window of my grandparents' country club. I knew even then I was not destined to marry, to have kids, to pass on this disgusting name. It wasn't that I rejected the idea. It was that I realised it was true. It was as plain as the day, as clear as the window in front of me. They lifted me up onto their shoulders and carted me around the bar singing. I loved it then. It was my destiny.

But so? So I remember it all so well, but it meant nothing. I am not special in any way. I'll die having been forgotten by the world at large. One day my legacy might arise, as though it were some strange mystery. But I will die long before my own name is known. And I will have no lineage. No one to follow me. It's funny really. It's all because I love too much.

-ben

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