Rap Mystck
13 years ago
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Popcorn
Yuck - If you haven't read the beginning of the story I posted last week, don't bother. It's really not good. Ungood, even. And I had such high hopes for it. Maybe I'll take another stab at it this week. Or two stabs. Or maybe I'll just run it right through the heart and put it out of its misery.
Monday, August 3, 2009
New Pic, No New News.
So I don't know if I've mentioned how much I like James' 'Laid' album, but I really do. And I'm having a hard time figuring out some of the song titles. I have one of those old-fashioned cd players in my car that doesn't list song titles, only track numbers - and that's really where I listen to most music. Gotta fill those two hours a day with something, eh?
Another thing I liked this week was the movie "Wristcutters: A Love Story." I totally dug it. I think the main actor is going to be the next John Malkovich, in that you've seen him in lots of movies but you can't name any of them. This is also my second favorite performance of Shannyn Sossamon, second to her part in "Rules of Attraction" which I can only say I liked because I haven't read the book yet. The book, as it happens, was written by Bret Easton Ellis, and if the movie version of this book was as weak as the movie version of "American Psycho" then it's probably got something to be desired. I'll let you know if and when I find out what.
Oh, and would you believe I found out today that I can take out the 256mb card in my phone and stick in a 4gb for like 12 bucks? Also it turns out that I can use the adapter, which came with the phone but has been riding in a bag in my trunk since September, to upload my phone pics right to my computer! A few years ago I probably would have freaked out about the machines taking over, but now I have conveniently conformed and as I am feeling pleasantly jingled from a bottle of chardonnay and a few stouts, I will take my leave and try to write something more interesting next time. Oooh, I started a story, maybe I will leave you with that. As of yet untitled.
(story start)
11:30 p.m.
New Year’s Eve – 2008
It has come down to one half hour.
I scrawl the words across the paper on my dusty desk, hoping she will be able to make sense of them, not confident that I am making the letters right. I feel a single light scratch down the back of my neck, and I know that she understands. As she moves her hand into my hair I feel her fingers on my scalp, and the accompanying involuntary shudder of pleasure threatens to overtake my terror. I set the pencil down and focus only on her touch, hoping I will be able to remember how it feels, hoping it will be enough.
12:45 a.m.
New Year’s Day – 2006
I guess this is where things get complicated.
Forty five minutes ago I was sitting in a friend’s living room, listening to Dick Clark officially check us out of 2005. I was a little nervous – I tried to play it off, but with only one drink the entire night I was socially unlubricated, dry-humping the crowd through its jeans. I told myself I was silly, that nothing was going to happen, there was no logic to it. But then I lifted my champagne glass to my lips after toasting and my heart stopped, briefly. The champagne didn’t smell bad – I wish it had. It didn’t smell at all.
Nothing did. Melanie was standing next to me, laughing, so I leaned over to smell her hair – to bury my nose in her crinkly brown locks that always smelled like coconut. I even poked fun at her for it sometimes… as my sense of smell had developed in the past year, I could always tell when she was around because she smelled like someone had squirted sunscreen all over her. It was usually pleasant. Now, the only way I could tell it was Melanie’s hair in my hand was that she was giggling and asking if I wanted to play with her coconuts. I tried to smile and asked if she could give me a ride home.
You might be wondering what’s complicated about this. At the stroke of midnight, less than an hour ago, my sense of smell abandoned me completely. Not so strange, right? Certainly nothing that can’t be dealt with. The bad part is that last New Year’s, exactly one year and 58 minutes ago, I went blind. Thirty years old, relatively good health, nearsighted in an unintimidating way – and as the curtain closed on 2004, the shades were drawn over my eyes absolutely.
It had been a bad year – I don’t deny it. I had been served divorce papers only 7 hours prior, and it’s true that I drank harder and with more fervor than I ever had, even for New Year’s Eve. But did I literally drink myself blind? It sounds silly, but I knew that some of my close friends believed it. I’ve been taking it pretty easy with the booze since then, just in case. Karma can really buck you, and I knew it. And here it is, a year later, and with one glass of champagne I’d apparently gone and drank myself anosmic. Let’s see you bastards explain this one. It’s a bittersweet victory, one which I have no choice but to accept. I was really starting to rely on my sense of smell. This is going to end badly, I can tell already. I don’t know if you’ve put it together yet, but it looks (no pun intended) a little like this:
New Year’s Eve 2004: lost sense of sight
New Year’s Eve 2005: lost sense of smell
I’m not much for math, but I’ve been learning a lot more about physiology than I’d ever dreamed. If I don’t figure out what’s happening to me by next year, and how to stop it, what will happen to me?
Another thing I liked this week was the movie "Wristcutters: A Love Story." I totally dug it. I think the main actor is going to be the next John Malkovich, in that you've seen him in lots of movies but you can't name any of them. This is also my second favorite performance of Shannyn Sossamon, second to her part in "Rules of Attraction" which I can only say I liked because I haven't read the book yet. The book, as it happens, was written by Bret Easton Ellis, and if the movie version of this book was as weak as the movie version of "American Psycho" then it's probably got something to be desired. I'll let you know if and when I find out what.
Oh, and would you believe I found out today that I can take out the 256mb card in my phone and stick in a 4gb for like 12 bucks? Also it turns out that I can use the adapter, which came with the phone but has been riding in a bag in my trunk since September, to upload my phone pics right to my computer! A few years ago I probably would have freaked out about the machines taking over, but now I have conveniently conformed and as I am feeling pleasantly jingled from a bottle of chardonnay and a few stouts, I will take my leave and try to write something more interesting next time. Oooh, I started a story, maybe I will leave you with that. As of yet untitled.
(story start)
11:30 p.m.
New Year’s Eve – 2008
It has come down to one half hour.
I scrawl the words across the paper on my dusty desk, hoping she will be able to make sense of them, not confident that I am making the letters right. I feel a single light scratch down the back of my neck, and I know that she understands. As she moves her hand into my hair I feel her fingers on my scalp, and the accompanying involuntary shudder of pleasure threatens to overtake my terror. I set the pencil down and focus only on her touch, hoping I will be able to remember how it feels, hoping it will be enough.
12:45 a.m.
New Year’s Day – 2006
I guess this is where things get complicated.
Forty five minutes ago I was sitting in a friend’s living room, listening to Dick Clark officially check us out of 2005. I was a little nervous – I tried to play it off, but with only one drink the entire night I was socially unlubricated, dry-humping the crowd through its jeans. I told myself I was silly, that nothing was going to happen, there was no logic to it. But then I lifted my champagne glass to my lips after toasting and my heart stopped, briefly. The champagne didn’t smell bad – I wish it had. It didn’t smell at all.
Nothing did. Melanie was standing next to me, laughing, so I leaned over to smell her hair – to bury my nose in her crinkly brown locks that always smelled like coconut. I even poked fun at her for it sometimes… as my sense of smell had developed in the past year, I could always tell when she was around because she smelled like someone had squirted sunscreen all over her. It was usually pleasant. Now, the only way I could tell it was Melanie’s hair in my hand was that she was giggling and asking if I wanted to play with her coconuts. I tried to smile and asked if she could give me a ride home.
You might be wondering what’s complicated about this. At the stroke of midnight, less than an hour ago, my sense of smell abandoned me completely. Not so strange, right? Certainly nothing that can’t be dealt with. The bad part is that last New Year’s, exactly one year and 58 minutes ago, I went blind. Thirty years old, relatively good health, nearsighted in an unintimidating way – and as the curtain closed on 2004, the shades were drawn over my eyes absolutely.
It had been a bad year – I don’t deny it. I had been served divorce papers only 7 hours prior, and it’s true that I drank harder and with more fervor than I ever had, even for New Year’s Eve. But did I literally drink myself blind? It sounds silly, but I knew that some of my close friends believed it. I’ve been taking it pretty easy with the booze since then, just in case. Karma can really buck you, and I knew it. And here it is, a year later, and with one glass of champagne I’d apparently gone and drank myself anosmic. Let’s see you bastards explain this one. It’s a bittersweet victory, one which I have no choice but to accept. I was really starting to rely on my sense of smell. This is going to end badly, I can tell already. I don’t know if you’ve put it together yet, but it looks (no pun intended) a little like this:
New Year’s Eve 2004: lost sense of sight
New Year’s Eve 2005: lost sense of smell
I’m not much for math, but I’ve been learning a lot more about physiology than I’d ever dreamed. If I don’t figure out what’s happening to me by next year, and how to stop it, what will happen to me?
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Dear Resident Advisor
This one goes out to Erica, a friend who somehow ended up my R.A. and likely kept me out of jail once. This is our serenade. Silly, maybe, but entirely from the heart. Over the intercom. Late at night.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Broken
Sometimes you hit the road, sometimes the road hits you.
I had to take the ol' Power Ram to work the other day to pick up some cylinders. I was still 35 miles away when I was thinking about what to use to give the windshield a good cleaning when it exploded.
I was glad I had sunglasses on because the glass sprayed all over the cab. It doesn't look that impressive but it scared the hell out of me, especially since I was staring at it when it happened and am still not sure where the guilty projectile came from. It looked like this:
It made me think of a lot of things - especially time. Like, if I hadn't dropped the ice cube I was putting into my coffee mug, I would have left three seconds earlier and that chunk of asphalt would have sailed over me, harmlessly. Isn't that weird? Think of how many things I could have done three seconds faster on Tuesday morning. Shaving, showering, getting dressed, finding my phone. Waking up. Brushing my teeth. Tying my shoes. Anything. But suppose I had done any of those things three seconds slower - perhaps I would have stopped at a different light and got clobbered by a trash truck. Or maybe a bee would have come in my window and got trapped between my face and my sunglasses, stinging me in the eyeball. I bet that would've hurt. Or it could have stung me right on the lip, and I'd've been stuck in the hospital with a talking cucumber. Usta!
At any rate, I just got the windshield on my Neon replaced two weeks ago because it's had a huge crack for almost a year. So if I had to take FOD on my way to work I'm glad it was the Ram. Two windshields in two weeks. I wish I could just take the bus. Do you know how much I could read during a commute like that? I need to figure out how to use the Hemet library so I can start checking out books on disc. the library here is a joke, did you know that? I don't know why. It is the suck.
Time to make plans. Good night, all.
I had to take the ol' Power Ram to work the other day to pick up some cylinders. I was still 35 miles away when I was thinking about what to use to give the windshield a good cleaning when it exploded.
I was glad I had sunglasses on because the glass sprayed all over the cab. It doesn't look that impressive but it scared the hell out of me, especially since I was staring at it when it happened and am still not sure where the guilty projectile came from. It looked like this:
It made me think of a lot of things - especially time. Like, if I hadn't dropped the ice cube I was putting into my coffee mug, I would have left three seconds earlier and that chunk of asphalt would have sailed over me, harmlessly. Isn't that weird? Think of how many things I could have done three seconds faster on Tuesday morning. Shaving, showering, getting dressed, finding my phone. Waking up. Brushing my teeth. Tying my shoes. Anything. But suppose I had done any of those things three seconds slower - perhaps I would have stopped at a different light and got clobbered by a trash truck. Or maybe a bee would have come in my window and got trapped between my face and my sunglasses, stinging me in the eyeball. I bet that would've hurt. Or it could have stung me right on the lip, and I'd've been stuck in the hospital with a talking cucumber. Usta!
At any rate, I just got the windshield on my Neon replaced two weeks ago because it's had a huge crack for almost a year. So if I had to take FOD on my way to work I'm glad it was the Ram. Two windshields in two weeks. I wish I could just take the bus. Do you know how much I could read during a commute like that? I need to figure out how to use the Hemet library so I can start checking out books on disc. the library here is a joke, did you know that? I don't know why. It is the suck.
Time to make plans. Good night, all.
Monday, June 15, 2009
You're a Nary
Good evening! I was thinking again today about restroom etiquette.
Fuck, once again I've typed a sentence that I never thought would escape my fingers. But I really hate editing myself - is sort of subtracts from the experience for both of us.
So - clearly there are some unwritten rules, and I'm sure I can google them all. Just curious if anyone would read this, and even more curiouser if anyone would humor me. In the men's room, don't stand directly next to another guy unless there is no other choice. It gets a little more complex, but that's the basic rule. There's a little saying I made up for the men's room: "When the flood gates are opened, so too shall the wind be broken." You might get it. You might not. It's not all that funny, but when I first thought of it I chuckled enough to rip a fart.
Ladies, if you are reading (and I see no reason you would be), let's say there are three stalls in a restroom. You have just occupied one with the intent of making water, but the gal in the other stall beats you to it. The only sound in the room is her tinkle hitting the water in the bowl. What do you do? I thought of two possible answers: one, you flush the toilet. Two, you find the courage to send your own stream blasting. Soon I will find a voting app to make this a little more anonymous, but you know, we're all friends here. For the most part. But I digress.
I had lots of things to discuss in this post, but I couldn't figure out how they all fit together to make an interesting blog post. I ended up ripping a receipt into pieces and picking whatever was written on the piece of receipt, on which I had written different things in the corners earlier today. So now I'm going to write about... and, I've lost the receipt. Hell. This blog lacks the range of total color necessary to make it consistently interesting. Full time consideration of another endeavor might be in order.
And with that, I introduce you to Mr. Harry Chapin, a philanthropist, genius and all around decent human being which means, of course, that he was killed in a car crash on his way to a charity concert when he was only 40 years old. Because I totally ripped him off in the last paragraph.
And a must see.
I really hope that someday, soon, someone makes a really outstanding video of "The Rock." I've no doubt that it could be done well with the talent that's out there... and perhaps a little guidance from some of us die-hards. However, if you get antsy and want to hear the song, you can find it on youtube but I can't stress enough that you need to KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED. It is a crappy compilation of pictures of rocks that takes up too much attention but isn't worth it. So here's a picture of a cactus flower I took yesterday.
Fuck, once again I've typed a sentence that I never thought would escape my fingers. But I really hate editing myself - is sort of subtracts from the experience for both of us.
So - clearly there are some unwritten rules, and I'm sure I can google them all. Just curious if anyone would read this, and even more curiouser if anyone would humor me. In the men's room, don't stand directly next to another guy unless there is no other choice. It gets a little more complex, but that's the basic rule. There's a little saying I made up for the men's room: "When the flood gates are opened, so too shall the wind be broken." You might get it. You might not. It's not all that funny, but when I first thought of it I chuckled enough to rip a fart.
Ladies, if you are reading (and I see no reason you would be), let's say there are three stalls in a restroom. You have just occupied one with the intent of making water, but the gal in the other stall beats you to it. The only sound in the room is her tinkle hitting the water in the bowl. What do you do? I thought of two possible answers: one, you flush the toilet. Two, you find the courage to send your own stream blasting. Soon I will find a voting app to make this a little more anonymous, but you know, we're all friends here. For the most part. But I digress.
I had lots of things to discuss in this post, but I couldn't figure out how they all fit together to make an interesting blog post. I ended up ripping a receipt into pieces and picking whatever was written on the piece of receipt, on which I had written different things in the corners earlier today. So now I'm going to write about... and, I've lost the receipt. Hell. This blog lacks the range of total color necessary to make it consistently interesting. Full time consideration of another endeavor might be in order.
And with that, I introduce you to Mr. Harry Chapin, a philanthropist, genius and all around decent human being which means, of course, that he was killed in a car crash on his way to a charity concert when he was only 40 years old. Because I totally ripped him off in the last paragraph.
And a must see.
I really hope that someday, soon, someone makes a really outstanding video of "The Rock." I've no doubt that it could be done well with the talent that's out there... and perhaps a little guidance from some of us die-hards. However, if you get antsy and want to hear the song, you can find it on youtube but I can't stress enough that you need to KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED. It is a crappy compilation of pictures of rocks that takes up too much attention but isn't worth it. So here's a picture of a cactus flower I took yesterday.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wherever Particular People Gather
I got an email about roundtrip flights from San Diego to Dublin for $459. Who's in? Anyone have a friend over there we can stay with for a few days? Guinness is on me. And hopefully in me.
I was so excited on Monday afternoon - there was a lot of stuff I wanted to get done and for some reason I was excited about all of it. I think it was laundry and cleaning out my car, and getting rid of some more clothes. The excitement wore off pretty quick, for some reason, so I started watching the first season of Burn Notice instead. Likes.
Oh, one question... what kind of books do you all go for when you pick something nonfiction? Some of you read that more than anything else, but I never have. I've been getting kind of jazzed about using my brain, which has been just sort of standing around and helping me keep my balance for a while, and I keep thinking of all these things I want to read that don't involve acid or time travel. I'm torn between reading about something current and learning about something I never really retained in history class. Any suggestions? Biographies and autobiographies tend to bore the hell out of me, so let's stay away from those for now. I heard about a book called Wolf Totem that I might try, or maybe something about some period of the Roman empire...
I just started reading Thomas More's Utopia and I'm on page 48... of the introduction. So it might be a while.
I don't have any videos screaming at me to be posted, or funny stories or anything like that, so I'll put up a piece of my drunken, late night whinery from about a decade ago. Enjoy!
Alone beside you
Closeness and distance unrelated
You, looking not into my eyes but past them
At what? Maybe it exists, maybe you just want it to
Perhaps I should stop trying to conform to it or
Perhaps it is conforming to me
Perhaps I will never untwist enough for the seed to take root
In this barren rocky region
Where nothing grows, only stagnates
Withers and dies
But is revived temporarily
Only to begin dying again
When I am alone beside you
I was so excited on Monday afternoon - there was a lot of stuff I wanted to get done and for some reason I was excited about all of it. I think it was laundry and cleaning out my car, and getting rid of some more clothes. The excitement wore off pretty quick, for some reason, so I started watching the first season of Burn Notice instead. Likes.
Oh, one question... what kind of books do you all go for when you pick something nonfiction? Some of you read that more than anything else, but I never have. I've been getting kind of jazzed about using my brain, which has been just sort of standing around and helping me keep my balance for a while, and I keep thinking of all these things I want to read that don't involve acid or time travel. I'm torn between reading about something current and learning about something I never really retained in history class. Any suggestions? Biographies and autobiographies tend to bore the hell out of me, so let's stay away from those for now. I heard about a book called Wolf Totem that I might try, or maybe something about some period of the Roman empire...
I just started reading Thomas More's Utopia and I'm on page 48... of the introduction. So it might be a while.
I don't have any videos screaming at me to be posted, or funny stories or anything like that, so I'll put up a piece of my drunken, late night whinery from about a decade ago. Enjoy!
Alone beside you
Closeness and distance unrelated
You, looking not into my eyes but past them
At what? Maybe it exists, maybe you just want it to
Perhaps I should stop trying to conform to it or
Perhaps it is conforming to me
Perhaps I will never untwist enough for the seed to take root
In this barren rocky region
Where nothing grows, only stagnates
Withers and dies
But is revived temporarily
Only to begin dying again
When I am alone beside you
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Every Now And Then I Get A Little Bit Nervous That The Best Of All The Years Have Gone By
I'm going to postpone my silly music blog and say only this.
In highschool, you are not obligated to share the truth with your peers. You must prove that you are above them. You need to show the admissions department at the colleges of your choice that you are a more desirable student than the others with whom you graduated. In life, it's different. When you discover the truth, you are obligated to share it with as many as you can, lest they lead pointless lives because you were selfish.
For this reason, there will be no peace until we are all one religion, or we are all no religion.
This is the only belief I have that every one of you must agree with, unless you are absolutely without conviction, or are one hundred percent selfish.
Love always,
Matt
In highschool, you are not obligated to share the truth with your peers. You must prove that you are above them. You need to show the admissions department at the colleges of your choice that you are a more desirable student than the others with whom you graduated. In life, it's different. When you discover the truth, you are obligated to share it with as many as you can, lest they lead pointless lives because you were selfish.
For this reason, there will be no peace until we are all one religion, or we are all no religion.
This is the only belief I have that every one of you must agree with, unless you are absolutely without conviction, or are one hundred percent selfish.
Love always,
Matt
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