Lost

I wish it was about the TV show, but I have to admit even as much hype as it has gotten, I haven't watched a single episode. In fact in the past few months I've sort of wondered away from about everything. Nothing excites me anymore. Any creative spark has long since vanished. Much like my posting on this thing. I'm not sure why.

I've thought about producing a couple of video -casts. They are much like the podcasts you can download off of iTunes, but of course they are video. The problem is that I'm having a hard time coming up with a unique subject that isn't getting talked about to death. Funny how when I was a kid or young adult, all this geeky stuff was unique to a few people. Now everyone is a geek or a nerd and they like it. *sigh* Topics that I'm interested in are swarthed in honey and I'm not going to rehash the same shit as everyone is doing.

Which makes me wonder what I can do. Ponder... I'd do naked women and such, but that's too close to pron. Although that would be a great topic. Heh.
Oh well I'll figure something out.

cya laterz

Screwed Up

Well I didn't make it today. Sigh. I feel like a failure on days like these. When I miss simple goals it frustrates me. I do know that I have to try and meet them tomorrow. Write, play guitar and continue to succeed with my business. Usually work comes first, but then I don't even get the chance to do the other two. I'm either running errands or figuring out what else I'm responsable for that I forgot to do. I'm last on the list of important things.

Thursday night I was supposed to go to a writer's group. Not sure what that will accomplish, but I figured it might 'inspire' me to do something. Guess what, I can't. I guess there is always tomorrow(next month). The past few months that the way things have seemed to go. *whine*

The other thing running through my veins is playing my guitar. I haven't been able to put much time into it since Christmas, but it is really starting to bug me that I'm not playing enough to get good (decent) at it. Tomorrow I'm going to play come hell or high water. And no I'm not going on a tangent on where water rises before hell comes.

I have been doing some work writing as we are getting some blogs going, but I had scatter brain while I wrote the first draft so I'm going to start over.

cya laterz

Posting

I mean to post more. I really do. I even mean to email people more often, but somehow the day gets swallowed up in assine tasks. Some of these tasks are self-inflicted, like a cutter. I do a good job of hiding my 'tasks' under my long sleeved excuses shirt. I feel like the man with all of the good intentions and yet I am not able to produce.

There is a writing group in the area I'm thinking of checking out. You know the kind of thing where you go share your work, they ooo and ahhh over it and then come up with some notions about how it could have been better if you had done this or that. I'm hoping to use it as a springboard into action. I'm my own worst critic and if you've read any posts on this thing you realize this is a major topic of mine. I keel my writing passion because I'm more worried I'm not going to write anything good enough. And yet I've actually come to realize, that I don't have anything to really say.

I'm thinking writers are sneaky preachers. For most they want to get their view across about something. Major themes are issues that writers take on to expose to the world. How am I going to contribute anything to the great debate. Hell I don't even know what to debate. I feel like an intellectual pea in the garden of life. I squish real easy.

But yet deep in my bowels (eeeewwww as someone used to say to me and then giggle), I know there is something lurking ready to be exposed. I wonder what makes people expose themselves. Espicially in the winter time. And while I know in New Orleans if you throw beads or drinks at women they will expose themselves it isn't the same as a man wearing a large overcoat flashing himself. Does someone wake up one day and decide the world needs to see his naked body? Is there a process of deciding what day that is? Do they practice in front of the mirror? And if they do practice, are they sure that other people want to experience the same thing? Now what the hell was I trying to say?

There is something there and I keep coming back to that spot in my soul where there is something worth telling. I know it is about to come forth soon. And the worst part, because I haven't been really crafting my story writing I might not be ready for it. I suppose I should go prepare the brain for this upcoming event.

Cya Laterz

Random Post #131

This random post is brought to you one strange guy. I'm not even sure what I'm going to post about, but I wanted to write at least something. Not like I've been aggressively working on anything in particular. It seems I'm always working on nothing wasting my time on planet earth. I do try to work hard and make something of my business. We put together a nice promo cd, had the label printed professionally, and it looks pretty swell. I'm pretty tired I think I'm gonna head to bed.

cya laterz

Happy go unlucky

Happiness is a state of mind that most conservatives consume. Liberals are not as happy. I heard this on the radio on the way back to Appleton. I used to brand myself as a conservative because I liked the idea of less government in our lives. But it doesn't matter which politcal party invades the government, we get screwed either way.

BUT...in the matter of me verses happiness. This becomes my choice and not those that are around me. I can choose to be who and what I want to be, it is their choice to flee. My dreams, goals and ambitions are all I can control. I once thought it never mattered what other people think, damn them all. I'm going to do what eye want to do. Guess what. My self-observation on this subject required a readjustment of thinking. It is eye who cares so much about what my inner circle cares about that I stumble into a state of inactivity. Unsure of what to do, how to please or sometimes how to act I'd rather slink into submission and not worry about crazy notions of success. And by success I mean doing what I am thinking, dreaming or trying to achieve.

Now that I've woken up. It now occurs to me that I have the ammunition to do whatever I want and stop caring about those who wish me in my little box. In reality I'm sure they would tell me that they want me to be 'myself', but secretly enjoy that I am in my place. My place is where I'm not a threat to unbalance the customary journey through life. You know what. This journey has sucked for me. I'm not happy with many of the paths I've choose. The funky thing is I can't blame anyone, but myself.

Things will change. I've done it before on smaller scales. I've challanged myself before and done it by strength and fortitude. Now its time for me to rise up off the bench and get in the game. (sheesh what a tired cliche') I now know that I'm not judged by you or anyone else. My judgement comes from myself. I will conquer life.

What is good in life, Bob?

"To crush your enemies, to drive them before you and to hear the lamentations of their women."

Inner demons beware. I'm about to get medieval on your asses.

cya laterz

Master-plan

Do you masterbate? Yes, I do. It isn't a hobby or something I wake up in the morning looking forward to doing. But sometimes there isn't much I can do about my sexual drive. I don't want to get personal (heh like I haven't already), but masterbation to me is like eatting cotton candy. Sure its quite sweet, but the high is quick and the thrill is over way too soon and all you have is a sticky mess you have to clean up yourself.

However, what else do you do to release the sexual frustration built up? The desire to have someone so close is insatiable. An evil thought passes your mind when a sexy woman bends at the waist. Your eyes rivet to her ass. Tight slacks snug against a round butt. You want to run your hands over the fabric and pull her close to feel how hard you've become by watching her. The fantasy doesn't stop there and every woman passing by becomes a new dream sequence and I paused a moment and wonder how she would be in bed.

Which then leads me to believe that I am a dog. Men are dogs. They will screw any bitch in or out of heat. But in reality it is more the thrill of what is wanted rather than forcing myself into the situation. For example, I followed a thirty something woman in the mall on Monday. She was about five feet five, nice and fit and wore a smart business suit that looked really nice on her. Her hair was cropped at the neck, but it was one of those straight, short with a bit of a wave to give a hint of sexuality to it all. Her boots clicked on the mall floor as she carried her bags towards the exit. Before I even noticed what she carried I was intrigued. But even more so when I noticed the Victoria Secret bag and I knew someone was a damn lucky man.

But I took it that extra step and wondered how she acted in and out of the bedroom. A deadly combination of smart and put together on the outside, but a spice of danger that allowed her to be completely open to her lover. So open she bought a cute outfit for a night of passionate sex. Then my fantasy ran wild and I imagined what it would be like with someone so giving. Willing to give themselves to the experience. When the cold blast of air hit me, I reverted back to reality and I knew I was back to reality.

Now you are wondering if I pictured her when I masterbated. Of course I did. Isn't that what masterbating and fantasies are all about? I suppose if my situation were a bit different I wouldn't have to waste my energy on something made up. And that is what makes the act of masterbation more of a frustration than it solves. I'm left to clean up the mess without the complete satisfaction of feeling....spent.

cya laterz

V Day cometh like a hurricane

Valentine's Day approachth. I want to flee from it like a wet cat from a
half-full tub of cold water. I'm cold, wet and tired of fighting for it. Yes
fighting for love. Hell, I'm willing to bet that I don't even know what
love is. No. I'm chasing love. Now if I could only find it.

Part of me has lost what it means to be romantic. I used to think I'm
a pretty good at delivering romance to a beautiful woman, but now
its difficult. Not coming up with ideas, but coming across with
execution. It seems so fleeting. I know women really love romance,
but does it get remembered? Or is it like a sports season, its exciting
when its happening, but when the games are over, its almost like it
didn't happen.

Love is fleeting, but then it turns into a relationship and love doesn't cut it anymore. Like sludging through mud, slopping the mundane shit off your shoes so that falling into the bed is an enjoyable process time and time again. Life seems to suck all the energy and when do you have time to spend with that other person? I'd love to begin the day with sex, but precious sleep is wasted because you are only getting 5-7 hours a night as it is.

Valentine's Day is the cumulation of romance. Sex is supposed to be rewarded for the ingenuity of what type of rommance is dreamed up. But I'm not there this year. I have a ton of neat ideas, but I'm not into it.

Happy V-Day to you all. My cynical look at romance should not dissuade you from having a great time with your spouse, lover or 'good' friends. I know I'm jaded and I figure one of these days something will happen where I will have a much better outlook on it. But for now I'm delving into the darker recesses of my mind and livin g there.

cya laterz