This is the winter of our discontent.

"Oh, look at the big English Major, quoting Shakesphere! Woodeewoodeewoo! He must think he's soooo smart!"
Yeah, well, shuddup. Anyway, I am smart, as you will find when later in this post I make a reference back to the title that by that time will have muchly slipped your mind and you wont notice the connection until you re-read this post on a quiet rainy sunday. Besides, you didn't know it was Shakesphere at all. You just guessed. Ever noticed that shakesphere is quoted much like the bible? Pity ole Will isn't still around today. He would have all the money in the whole wide world and, as Gwen Stefani remarks, he would indeed be a wealthy girl.
Well. Now for something slightly more serious.
My place of employment was built by Satan himself. And Satan is a good builder. He put something in the wall, or the ceiling, that makes whoever works at little old "mount st cafe" have a mental breakdown at some point. Kinda like aspestos (yeah, no idea on the spelling of THAT one), but aspestos for the mind juices.
Take our last boss. Had a fisking heart palpatation one morning and had to go to hospital. Cause: Stress. Next boss now breaks into tears randomly perhaps once a day. Probably stress. Third boss now no longer talks past the nessicary. You would think that there would be quite alot that you would need to say when you need to run a cafe, but you would be wrong. Today my boss said two things to me, once when I arrived and once when she left. They were "Im going to quit my job" and "Make sure you lock up." Reason? Mind Aspestos.
And its contagious. Everyone at work is feeling it. People snapping at other people for little reason, or at least little reason that is other peoples fault. I am not doing so bad because Im certifiably insane and so rely less on my reson than other people. But still it is not a cool place to work at the moment.
But I still seem to be a carrier of the disease. Many of my friends seem to be having problems at the moment- people aren't sleeping, people are breaking up with eachother, being depressed, being anti social... and again, I am not too bad. It seems almost as if everyone elses problems have become to prevalent for me to be too concerned about myself at the moment. Which is alright. Gotta have someone around with a semi-consious grip on life, even if that person happens to be the aspestos-carrying, cynical and pessimistic person we all know me to be.
Of course, if the aspestos theory isn't right, and I am perfectly willing to accept that this may be the case, then I also have a counter theory.
Tis the season.
By this I do and don't mean the actual seasons. It is a proven fact that peoples mood is affected by the weather. Duh. I mean, even though I am a huge advocate for the overcast and windy days when you can feel the tempest rile your blood, I also like the rare calm, blue skied sunny day when you can feel the life soak into your bones. I just don't like them when they wont stop. I like change. I like the seasons of change, spring and autum.
But not everyone else is me. And although the change in seasons might account for some of what Im seeing around me, I actually think we are in winter. A dark cold winter where everyone has had the seasons of joy and laughter that is the end of a year and the season of hope which is the innocence a new year brings, and now many of us have hit the wall, the mirror wall, that makes us look and assess and think about what we think has to happen.
Mirrors are difficult objects. Many people have trouble with them. And right at this point I think what many people are seeing reflected in their mirror is a long and difficult winter. There is snow and ice, and not like a postcard either. The trees are bare and the wind is strong and the road is too damn long and you cannot stay still for fear of freezing but you cant go on for want of a destination.
These are scary things. And unfortunately there isn't too much anyone can do about them. There will always be snow and ice and biting wind, just as there is night and day. All we can really do is weather such a season together and hope that it passes soon.

Just as the song says.

Halfway through an essay.

I dragged myself out of bed a 7am this morning (yes, there is such a time) so I might do some actual school work. It has been some time since I have had to write an essay, and I must be rusty, because even though I have been writing for a couple of hours and this is only a 200 level paper, I am only halfway through my word count. So I have decided to shelve said essay until thursday night when I should have a clear head capable of thating a fresh view which will fill another 800 words.
This would usually be fine, but unfortunately I have other demands on my time. Friday I have a "flat warming" for Hobbs, Lilith and Wendy's flat. Flat warming gets inverted commas here because they have already had several parties there and besides their living room is so small that, if you have more than three people in it, it heats up to roughly the heat of a kiln oven. I can feel my clay-ish insides harden at the thought. And the thought that I shall have to be close to quite probably many people who I don't know. I don't like socialising.
Then on Saturday I am expected to go to Palmeston North for an old school friends 21st. Travel, more unknown people... gah. And Sunday will be spent with that great monster friend of mine I like to call "Hangover Beastie". So, even if I do get this essay done on Thursday, I will only have Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights to do another longer, harder essay that is due on thursday.

In other news, however, TONIGHT I ROCK! 9 songs, 9 somthings, 9 beers afterwards, and close to 9 hours of work the day after! Should be a good time.

Except for the work part. And the essay part. And the part which isn't me on stage, basically. Sometimes its hard being me.

It Lives! It Lives!...Again!

Tomorrow night "The Crazy" rides again! Thats right! All the completely idiot things that you can think of crammed into two guys and a girl (and that FIGURATIVELY you sick minded individuals). Come down to "The Valve", corner of Cuba and Vivian streets, walk through the broken wall and spend Wednesday indulging your OMG insane side.

I am quite excited. And so should you be.

I have a story in my head!

Finally! You know how you sometimes go though life without a story in your head and you feel slightly hollow? It's as if the real world isn't quite enough to engage you. You need something else to carry you through, something else to let your mind carry you through your everyday actions. Huzzah!
But let me tell you: This story looks like it is going to be stranger than anything else I've written. I know, Im not exactly an author who is on par with sanity, but hezus, if I can pull this one off, I shall be a very happy, if crazy man.

Because the odd numbers are before, and the even ones afterwards.

My Chemical Romance

Hah, no just kidding. I just wanted to put that as the title so you might have thought that I had well and truly gone off the deep end and into the happy limbo that is "emotional punk".
Yes, I know, its too easy to poke fun at emos. Or goths. Or punks. Or any other social group that defines itself as "being individual" while still looking all exactly the same. Strange that, isn't it? Something in our brains just goes "click" and then we suddenly feel the need to wear alot of dark, dark clothing.
Notice how many "inverted commas" there have peen already in this post? I love inverted commas. A couple of lines on a page, a small waggle of the fingers and suddenly you can make the meanings of your words "different".
Anyway.
Another week of work over, another weekend to do, another group of hours in which I have completely failed to do any schoolwork or tidy my room. And I really do need to tidy my room. it is filled with all sorts of undefinable crap, crap being the most undefinable when you actually really need to define something. Like schoolwork. Or underwear. But my room is now such a hideous mess that its chaotic nature has somehow worked its way into my ability to recognise things. And if you accidentally confuse schoolwork with underwear then you just know the day is not going to go your way. Basically because you have just been thrown out of your course and it's impossible to get biro ink of the skin.
Your evil shadow has a cup of tea. I like Lemon Demon. Yes, Lemon Demon is a band. No, those previous two sentences were not just random groupings of words.

Or were "they"? Ohhh, that ones a good one!

Idiot

Man im and idiot.
Read over the last couple of posts, and especially the comments. Can you see my chain of thought? No? Neither can I. Perhaps the reason that I am socially retarded is not because God hates me, but because I unintentionally sabotage every situation but running it through my paranoid, booze addled, worm ridden mind.
Sigh.

"Watashi wa baka de wa arimasen ka?"
"Hai. Baka des."

And that about sums it up sometimes. But oh well. Things could be worse, me thinks.

OH FUCK!

Look at my last posts comment.
...
...
...
If this is Clarrise, which I am supposing it probably is (unless it's Calvin messing with me agin, in which case NOT COOL) then... well, I am kind of at a loss of what to say. One of the dangers about putting your thoughts on the world wide web is, of course, that people might read them.
A key board never looked so intimidating.
I would say sorry, but I dont think I need to. These are my thoughts. And like the little screen above your head, if you read something you dont like, I suppose its better you find out now rather than later. Hopefully you dont read things you dont like, but oh well.

Damn damn damn. That date got me through yesterday.

And in almost unrelated news, talked to a friend who tells me that yes, Vivi did believe that waking me up at four in the morning for a little game of tonsil hockey was simply a game. Shes just a friendly person, in her words. Well hey, I dont know about you, but I belive that there is quite a difference between being friendly with someone and skull fucking them. Really.

So yeah. Hows it going up there god? Having a good little giggle?

Dating

Well, just had my date with Clarisse. Drank too much coffee, but went pretty well. We just had a good chat for about an hour and a half, basically filled with all the mindless small talk that happens when two people who really dont know what their relationship to eachother is. But good just the same. It turns out that we are both pretty much socially inept at meeting people. Always a good starting point to have.
Oh well, now things shall just float around in ether untill we meet again, I suppose. No numbers were exchanged, only hazy plans about another meeting hatched, just have to wait until life throws us back together again I suppose.
But all is good, when your down in my hood, as they say. i wasn't stood up, and that, I posit, makes all the difference in the world.

Now I go off to work for what may be an 8 hour shift. GOOODIE! Ever noticed how the word "Goodie" also looks suspiciously like the words "Go die"? I thought not.

Anyways.

Just a Quickie...

And you know with a comment like that I must be on the up. And really, after half a dozen beers and and hour or two of scrubs, who wouldn't be? I actually think the reason why God no longer awnsers peoples prayers is because the producer of that show somehow found a way to melt God down as his base material for those DVD's. There's no other plausable explanation!
So yup. As long as I remember not to think I be fine. in other news, tomorow I have a date! Huzzah! My friends tell me I date more than any of them put together. Except for perhaps Calvin. Calvin is a date machine.
So fingers crossed and all shall go well. Until then I have six hours work to endure, and then I am off to a small party which shall include me, my friend, and yes, more beer.

Living life to the FEEL! Well, not too much feel right now. More a live life to the "do lots of stuff so you don't think" FEEL!

I just like saying FEEL really.

Life

Well, you know with a serious title like that it has too be bad. And it is. Oh yeah.

Good News first:
On Friday was my friends 21st Birthday celebrations. Unfortunately, I cannot remember her psudenom right now, but anyway, it was a fine and reserved affair that was very much appreciated after the week long reaming that work had been. Yes, I was ready to get very very drunk, but decided to limit myself to one bottle of wine. Yes I know, not like me, but I have been drinking alot lately and didn't feel like making myself a fool again just yet.
I am glad I didn't. For at this shindig I met a lovely person I shall call Clarisse Von Pink. With a sense of humor which almost blends seemingly with mine, chatting away the night was the highlight of the weekend. We have a date on Wednesday to drink coffee.

But hang on just one minute! Thy say: What about this Vivi that you have been writing so much on the topic of Flan? Is this not a kind of hedging your bets a bit? A playing of both sides of the fence as they say?
Well yes, and I was worried about that also. What happened if, as I was going to Vivi's flat warming on the saturday night, we somehow got together and the date with Clarisse had to be cancelled or, worse, acted through so as not to hurt the emotions? I really dont know how I would have coped with such a situation.

As you may have gathered I no longer have to worry about that. For now Highlyflannable Theatre brings you the Really Horribly Bad News:
On Saturday it was my friends, and Vivi's, flat warming. They live up on the back of the beyond, a suburb on top of a mountain they call Roseneath. I decided to take only one bottle of wine. Yes, I know, not like me, but I had been out the previous night and didn't feel like making the usual fool of myself that I do.
I wish I had taken eighteen bottles of wine.
On saturday night I crashed. I had an emotional breakdown the likes of which has not been seen since I was 18 when I suddenly had to leave school halfway through the day and go climb a mountain. I sat outside the Roseneath flat for a good part of the night and was bothered about things that shouldn't bother me and then about things that should have bothered me. Because of this moment I am washing my hands of Vivi. What is it about me that makes women want to mess with my mind? I do wonder sometimes about how much a labotomy might cost. I know I was being hypocritial in some of the things I was thinking on that night, and indeed still am, but my mind is so bundled up, so tangled up, I am surprised that I am still able to function, even if it is a very curtailed function.
I ended up walking home from Roseneath at 3am, along the waterfront, shouting at God. He didn't reply.

So now begins the difficult and painful process of re-evaluating my life though this latest event and trying to align myself with it in some way so I am not constantly slicing myself on its fractured edges. In time to come, I shall aborb this new peice of glass into my bloodstream, as I have done with all the other painful events of my life, and my life shall be just that small amount colder.

I am really hoping that my date goes well on wednesday. I hope for the best but know that the worst will probably happen. Sigh.

Its damn difficult being me sometimes.

Its Thursday, so that means...

Yes. I am hungover to buggery, through buggery and so far out the other side of buggery that I can barely see it. Even at 7pm I still feel like a stuffed and wall mounted trout. Its amazing how much two bottles of wine can make every muscle and sinew in your body burn with the stiff fire of pain.
But there are upsides to being hungover: Everything tastes really really good. If you can keep it down that is.
Anyway, nuff bout the hangover. More about women.
Why are women crazy?
I dont know.
You dont know.
Women themselves dont know.
And why the hell do relationships have to be so much problems? Not that I am in a relationship, but last night as I was sleeping on a couch Vivi comes along and tries to wake me up. Unfortunately, on this occasion, I was too far gone to be roused. But come on! What is going on here? Is it on? Is it not? Is every single time and drunken mistake? Or be there something more?
What humans need is a small digital readout above their heads so that you could see exactly what someone is saying or thinking. Then there would be no miscomprehensions, people wouldn't go around backstabbing or messing people up, at a glance you could easilly see if you should be hanging around with this person or not. Might be a bit nasty while people get used to the fact of exactly what others are thinking of them, but in the long run it would solve alot of problems.

Wouldn't solve this hangover though. Why wont it go away? Imagine what a drunk persons digital thingy would look like. Swirls of colour with the occasional demand thrown in there: Drink! Smoke! Coma on that couch! And then people could watch your dreams as you slept.

How disturbing would that be?

My Coat Smells Like Cheese

i guess thats what you get when you leave it in a cumpled pile on your floor for three months. But no worry, the smell will go away in a few days. Hopefully.
In other news: HERE COMES THE RAIN! Bwhahah! No more sunny weather for us! You wimps. After enjoying a few days of happy inducing sunshine and working on your 'tan' (what the hells the point in that, anyway? Painful sunburns so you can look like a forigener in our pasty city? It doesn't very long anyway. You noobs.)
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a nice sunny day as much as the next man, as long as the next man is as hungover as me. Sun hurts you eyes. But no, there is little better than sitting on a rooftop in the clear summer sun drinking summer ale.
Unless it is feeling the thrill of weathers rage UNLEASED!
I like the wind. I like the rain. Thats why I moved to Wellington. When I was a small child and still immortal, I would climb trees in the rain and shout offences at god as their ire swept the tree near right angles to the ground.
Of course, in a few weeks we will all be incredibly annoyed at the fact that we have to carry around an extra pair of socks and that our coats still smell like cheese and that valuable dance around space has been taken up in our rooms by clothes drying racks that, yes, I do beleive also smell of cheese. But untill then I have put some nice thumpy music on my MP3 player and intend to puriotte through puddles as my fellow storm clad wellingtonians watch in horror at my not too lithe and pasty form and book themselves sunbed appointments. Idiots.
In other news, I bout a new Final Fantasy game. You know those games which EAT YOUR LIFE? Yeah, one of those ones. Im not going to bore you with any details, but many nights are going to be spent in bed with that game.
When you start supplementing women with video games you know your in trouble. Oh well.
And in other other news, basically nothing. I work, sleep, yada yada yada. I want to go throw things of tall buildings. Like watermelons. Or pennies. Or Penny. Pity I dont know any Penny's.

Thats enough sensless rabble for now: Puddles await my jolly boots of doom!

Happy again!!

Yes indeedy, I am happy again! No demons on my spine, no bears in my dreams, no crazed thoughts of pancakes. Its good. Bloody old depression cycle. But now I can get through a shift of work feeling good and not much is bothering me. Still drunk though. Oh well, one step at a time.
What has been happenening? NOTHING! I have almost finished my scrubs dvds, I have some books to read, and I might just buy myself an icecream.

Yeah, life is pretty good, even if just slightly void of any true meaning. But again, one step. Paved with good intenetions, perhaps, but at least im moving again.

Placeholder

Woo! NEW POST! Would it horribly dissapoint you if I had nothing to say? I know it would I.
Yes, it has been 6 days since my last post, but6 I cannot exacxtly remember what I have been doing. Mostly the usual mixture of class, then work, then home or someones house, where alcohol is consumed until I fall asleap, bout 1am-ish. Don't you love the suffox (damn you god of spelling!), yea verrily, the suffox "-ish"? Makes making up new verbs a breeze. Nothing like another "-ish" just to continue the buctering of the English language. Ishly.
Where was I? Oh yes, God hates me. Yes, I know this is a pretty old theme in my life, but I think it must be true if I feel crap every single day for no reason whatsoever. Been drinking for five days straight now. I know thats not a record in my life, not even close, but it is compared to some of you "normals" out there. How do you get by? I just dont know.
Anyway, enough whinging. Time to talk about the greatest thing IN THE WORLD!!!!
There is, on campus, a vending machine selling Lift+ bottles at $1 a peice (RRP $3).
For someone like me who lives from day to day on the three poisens (Alcohol, Tabocco and Caffeen) this is like finding the holy grail of really coolness. I shall never have to feel tired again! I shall be able to go countless days without sleeping! Which isn't all that hard actually. If any of you have tried to go even two days without sleep you soon find that it becomes pretty difficult to count anything.

But still. Countlesslyish.

Man, they don't make ballons like they used to.

WOOO! Into the swing of a new year now! Classes each day, radings to be done from books that the bookstores dont actually sell, eight hours of work each day and a lonely beer before bed each night!
Hip hip hooray indeed.
Well, I have had my hair straightened. Chemically. It be all spiky. I likes the spiky. And it's not normal spiky either. It insane spike. You would think that having my curls of insanity straghtened out would make me look slightly more normal, but no! I now look kinda like a cross between Einstine and a fuck load of electricity. Oh yeah. Cause its really long on the sides as well on the rest of the head. And did I mention spiky? Cause it is.
Lah.
I be working lots. I dont have much time to go out. I was planning on going to see me friends Hobbs Wendy and Lilith tonight but I think I might just go to be. Especially because Im going to be finishing work at bout 11pm. FUCK... I shall be glad when this week is over. Because then I am going to go to Spasm's house, even though he dont know it. Then again, he dont know anything because he must own the only house that, since the invention of the phone, has no phone jack. And his cell phone sucks. Cause he is gay.
Well.
Me brains dont hurt yet. Thats good. But sometimes I have dreams that my auntie is a plam reader and gives me holographic cards that will show me my fourtune but she accidentally gives me the wrong card and I end up seeing floating numbers. Then I wake up and The Bear is in my room and I am afriad to go to the toilet. He wont kill me, I know that, but goddamn hezus its strange.
The next cool thing I am going to do is buy myself a new guitar. But first, especially after tonight, I think a drink is in order.

Or five.