Thought-vomiting is a term I’m going to be using whenever I get to this point. The point where I’ve let too much time come between updates on here, yet I still can’t come up with something decent to write about.
This is where I say, “fuck it” and proceed to let my thoughts spew forth with no concern towards their purpose or destination. When you come to my page, you’ve come to the Internet equivalent of a toilet after a frat party.
See, that’s how I came up with the term “thought-vomiting” and I thought I was pretty clever for about 2 seconds and then it stopped but I think it’ll stick.
I could have also titled this post, “Transitions and themes are for queers” but then I would probably have to deal with those people at GLAAD who apparently have nothing better to do then find things to get bitchy about and then refuse to accept apologies for the very thing that upset them.
I’m sure I’ve talked about GLAAD and just how ineffective I think they are by their very existence, so I’ll spare you another rant about that.
Time to change the topic!
I’m trying to take my writing seriously these days. I enjoy doing it, so I figure I might as well continue to work in that direction as much as I can. I used to avoid these moments of optimism, but I figure I’m at a stage in my life where being secretly hopeful would be a little more beneficial to my future.
The term “beneficial to my future” is just disgusting to say, by the way.
So I get in these positive moods and it won’t be a day before I get reminded why I’m such a pessimistic, ghoul of a man. It’s not just one thing, mind you. It’s as if the whole world needs to knock me down a peg or two. Then, when I’m down on the peg I started, the world will proceed to kick the shit out of me.
First of all, I’m quick to become intimidated by other people. The only thing that is worse for me to be around than a terrible writer is a great writer. I was reading a short little column on a forum, and by the end of it I had transformed into Antonio Salieri from Amadeus.
I was asking a god I don’t believe in, “Why did you choose him over me?”
This was all over a column that just some random guy wrote on a sports website.
Jealousy truly is going to be my downfall.
At this point in the process of writing, the author heard creepy laughter that must have come from an elderly man. So we interrupt the post to ask old people everywhere to not laugh anymore. It’s scary, and there’s nothing to enjoy in your lives anyway. You’re old and you’re always in pain or something else is wrong with you. Thank you.
If that wasn’t enough I’ve been trying to prepare for my SATs which I have to take the first Saturday of December. I usually take a few practice questions a day to just to get an idea of what I’ll be dealing with. Most of the time I get it correct, but then there was one reading related question that I missed. I got this wrong because I didn’t know the word “deign”.
I know things that are similar to “deign”. To patronize and to condescend are ideas I’m very familiar with but I had never heard that word before.
The other day I said the word “Unabridged” and a girl in my class said, “Only you would know what “unabridged” means.”
This tells me that I’m more intelligent than idiots but I can’t measure up to smart people where the word “deign” is probably very common.
My friends, I think I’m in limbo.
At this point, the author would like to note that he realizes that this actually wasn’t as random as he originally thought, and that he could have picked a better title. He would just like to let it be known that you all suck, he hates you, and to please not give him any backtalk.
Me: I spent 30 dollars on those fucking cables!
Xbox: Yeah, I guess the problem is the console. Repairs are $99.99.
Me: FUCK YOU!
I hate the 360. But don’t worry, fanboys. I hate your console, too.
Yes, like my toilet and my water, my xbox has now decided to crap out on me. We get all the audio, and there’s no red ring, but there’s no picture. We tried to get it to work on multiple televisions in the house, and no dice.
So we thought there was problem with the a/v cables and spent 40 dollars on replacement cables. Still didn’t fucking work.
So, we don’t have an xbox anymore. We can’t afford 100 dollars to repair the damn thing, and it’s not like we were beating it with a fucking hammer. We had the nerve to use it, I suppose, but I don’t think that means it should fucking break. I always thoughts that was part of the territory. Certainly a video game console should expect to be played. This means buying Assassin’s Creed 2 would be pointless because I have nothing to play it on.
I don’t understand fanboys, the people who like only one console. I don’t understand the people who hate fanboys, the people who like all the consoles.
I hate every single one of those fucking game companies. Now it’s not a matter of will my console break, but when, and that is bullshit!
Damn it to hell.
Sorry for the rant.
~Ben
No, my toilet isn’t actually vomiting diarrhea or being really vulgar to me.
It seems when those fuckers turned off my water, air bubbles got into the pipes and when i used the bathroom, as is my right to do, the air came at such a force that it broke a part in the back of the tank.
It’ll still flush, it’ll just sound like I rigged the thing with explosives.
Felt like sketching about it. Good day.
~Ben
I’ve been pretty busy since the last time I talked to you people. Mostly school stuff that you couldn’t conceivably care about. Shit like preparing for the SAT and trying to finish. It’s about as interesting as it sounds.
But in the few days we were apart, I learned some important things that I feel you should be made aware of.
Crush Strawberry soda is probably the best strawberry soda I’ve ever tasted.
There’s absolutely no acceptable time for the water in your house to be turned off.
Fear has a new name and it’s Obama. Apparently one more person is agreeing that Obama is a racist. Seriously? I wish you dipshits would build Retard Rapture and fuck off already. This president has plenty you could criticize him for and you pick the dumbest shit.
Julian Casablancas solo album has been pretty decent to me thus far. I was beginning to think we were heading for terrible days after the horror that was “My Drive Thru”.
I beat Mega Man 9. It beat the shit out of me but I finally did it.
Did I mention how much I miss running water? I mean, do we get the money back for the days we don’t get to use it?
That’s all I got. Nothing really interesting. Nothing really funny either. They can’t all be winners, though.
~Ben
I took one of those personality test things in one of my classes today. The type that give you the four-letter label. As stupid and generic as those things can be, mine did say that people with my specific label make up 1% of the total population.
At first I was excited because that means I’m very unique, and then I realized I was alone in the world and began sobbing right there in the classroom. When the teacher asked what was wrong I ran like a little girl out the door.
Later, at a bar, I was-
Okay, most of that shit didn’t actually happen and I apologize for my dishonesty.
That’s right! I lied!
I didn’t take a test! I just felt like crying! And then I went and got hammered! FUCKED FIFTEEN HOOKERS, I DID, I DID!
Wow, I’m in a fucked up mood tonight.
I was reading on the internet this post by this kid talking about how he’s in an all-atheist family and how he’s secretly a Christian because he’s been going to church secretly with his friends.
This kid’s like the 007 of the faith world.
A real Undercova Brotha in Christ.
Author’s Note: I actually laughed out loud at that joke. My own joke. And I think it’s really funny. This is insanity I hope you never have to deal with, my friends.
Anyway, that kid would have just as easily been saved by Islam. It was only a matter of which brand of bullshit got to him first. He was just another person who wanted to have all the answers, even if they were all wrong.
Surely having to spend your years saying, “I don’t know” to some questions is a fate worse than death after. Maybe having to do actual research on others? OH. EM. GEE!
~Ben
1. Pay Pal charging me 2 dollars and a half an hour of annoying tedious bullshit when I would just like to close my account.
2. My mom being so eager to go out drinking that she forgets to do things that have to be done before she leaves for fucking Nevada tomorrow.
3. Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK PAY PAL!? Your name is only half true. I’m paying, but you are being a real dick about it.
4. My mom coming home hammered. Drunk people are really annoying. They weren’t at first and, at least in the case of a few friends, can still be pretty funny. For the most part, though, they’re just obnoxious people. They shout, they puke, and they lose all their sense of humor once the booze wears off which happens pretty fucking quick.
I think the reason I’ve pretty much have gone sober is for the social reasons. When most people are drunk, they want to find other drunk people. When they’re sober, they could give a fuck less.
I’m a much different breed. When I’m sober, I want to play Mega Man or whatever game has my attention. When I’m drunk, I want to play Mega Man or whatever game has my attention. I’m very aware of how much of a shut off nerd I am, but that’s just my personality. I don’t have fun at parties, but I do enjoy hanging out and there’s a big difference.
So when somebody I know is fucked up and I’m not, and I have to hear them shout and throw up, it’s pretty annoying when you were planning for a nice night at home. It’s even worse when that person is your fucking mom.
That just makes you want to move out. It’s not the first time I watched my mom drunk in a Halloween costume but it’s still not something I’m use to.
Can’t wait to leave this place, is all I’m saying.
5. There wasn’t a “scary” fucking thing on television. ABC family used to be the king of stupid shit that was supposed to be spooky and that was my entertainment, damn it! Instead, they fucking showed Batman. What the fuck is going on here? Closest thing to horror I got was Night of the Living Dead, but that movie is actually decent so it’s not what I’m looking for.
6. And what I really hate is just how much Halloween sucks these past few years. I spent all day watching a dog for a drunk woman, watching Enter the Dragon, and hoping like hell no trick or treater’s show up.
Not the best way to spend the one Halloween that landed on a Saturday.
I hope yours was significantly better, though.
~Ben
I’ve been having a lot of trouble updating this damn thing. I’ve been having a severe lack of energy lately so any motivation I do have ends up going to a huge amount of schoolwork that has plagued me for the past two weeks. I managed to finish it all up yesterday, so at least it’s done.
I have a doctor’s appointment in a week, and I’m rather uncomfortable about it. It’s always so long in between doctor visits for me that I’m always afraid something terrible has happened in my body in that time.
I have to get two things checked out. One of which, I’ll be happy to finally be done with, and the other I’m a little more nervous about.
The first thing I have are these little wart-like growths on my fingers. I have one on my left middle finger and one on my right ring finger, and they’re repulsive to anybody who ever notices them. Luckily, nobody really does, and if they do it’s after a long time of ignorance. I’ve always been really secretive of them, though, because it’s a lot of hassle when people start telling you there’s something wrong with you like it’s a new thing.
I’ve had them since at least the 6th grade, so they don’t bother me too much. I’d like them gone, but the only real reason I want to get them checked out is because one is starting to hurt a little bit when I bend my finger.
The other thing is a mole I have on my head. It’s hidden underneath my hair, but it’s one of those ugly moles. Like it could lead to cancer, not that it’s hairy or lumpy. The kind that you kind of get nervous about.
I’ve had it for probably my entire life, but now that I need to get it looked at, a lot of fear driven “what if?” scenarios are popping up and I end up scaring myself over something that hasn’t bother me for the many years I’ve known about it.
It’s stupid, and I know adding to my stress is just worse to my health, but that’s the price I pay for an overactive imagination. An overactive imagination being something I couldn’t really use after elementary school.
~Ben
Today was one of those really bad days where the world just tries to pile everything up on you at once. I never responded well to that kind of pressure and I don’t believe anybody should, frankly.
For some, reason, I’m finding school to be much more difficult when I’m trying to actually accomplish something. I think the teachers smelled the change in my attitude and decided it was time to challenge this boy.
“Oh yeah, he’s ready!” they think with a certainty similar to one owned by Evil Knievel, right before he did something stupid.
So all my classes decide to throw everything possible at me to somehow juggle in the span of two weeks. Anytime I get handed a new assignment I want to raise my hand and politely ask, “Yes, excuse me, but are you fucking high? I can’t get all this shit done! THERE’S NO TIME, MAN!”
So, I sit down to read my book during lunch. Trying to pretend like I’m cool and collected. I’m reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
and I hit a really bleak realization when I’m almost finished with it.
“Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It is a cheap catch-all for fuckoffs and misfits.”
I never really say I’m interested in journalism when I tell people I want to be a writer. In fact, I don’t tell them much of anything because I don’t really know myself.
Still, this quote just seemed so true for writing in general and whether it’s because I’ve been hit over the head with a similar message from various sources over the past few days or today was just a bad day, I felt like an absolute failure.
I’ve been told I’m such a good writer, but is that even a fucking talent anymore? So many people apparently want to be writers, but do they even have anything worth saying? For that matter, do I?
It reminded me of this girl in my Native American literature class. I believe she said she wanted to be a writer at the beginning of the year, and she was always reading some sort of philosophy. I haven’t read anything she actually wrote, so anything I say here is speculation but I think it’s a valid point.
She talks a lot. She’ll tell a story to the class about her “grannie” if you just say a single word that she feels is somewhat related.
Aside from it being a little irritating, my real problem is how can you want to be a writer, and be an open book at the same time?
But I’m going off topic.
I was just having this collapse in dreams, feeling like I’m a joke, when one of the many mothers who attend my school, decided that bringing her kid was a great idea.
I’m sitting Indian style, against a wall, reading a book and there’s a baby who thinks I’m just the most fascinating thing in the world. She won’t actually touch me (thank god), but she will stand a foot away and eat animal crackers while staring at me.
“Don’t even look up. Don’t even fucking think about looking up. This kid has to think you’re the damn boogeyman because if she gets closer, you just might snap.” I think to myself biting my lip.
Minutes pass.
“Jesus christ, it hasn’t moved. I’m a kid who wears a black hooded sweatshirt, black t-shirt, and has messy hair. I haven’t acknowledged this girl’s presence, and she is still here.”
I want to snap at her. Not to be a real dick, although I did tell my mom that because I like to make her always think she gave birth to monster, but I just knew it would get her away from me. I can’t communicate with people my own age in this state of stress, so decency towards a toddler was absolutely out of the question.
It wouldn’t be until another child showed up that she left the failure against the wall alone. No incident. No pissed-off mother to handle. No crying baby. No boogeyman.
It wasn’t the kid’s fault. It was a bad day and bad timing on her part, and she’ll never know she almost made a man lose his shit just because he was having an identity crisis or whatever you would call it.
So I’m still at a point where writing feels cheapened. I have a suspicion that people are doing it just because it’s the easiest job to get that still has a sense of dignity with it. That it’s just a quick way for them to validate their lives, and to be “special”. I think about how many books are in the many bookstores and libraries, and wonder how many of them had authors who actually cranked out something that meant something to them.
I’m also wondering if I’m just one of these people who wanted an easy way out and that I just don’t realize it.
I don’t really know, but I do know that when all this insanity started brewing in my head today, my first reaction was to find a way to write about it.
Maybe I’m heading in the right direction.
~Ben
I feel like I’m the only one who isn’t bursting with excitement over Dragon Age: Origins.
The first thing I thought heard about was, “God, that’s a terrible title.” But a title can’t decide whether a game is good or not so I’ve been keeping an eye open for Dragon Age content because while I’m not the biggest fan Bioware games, I get some kick out of seeing what they’re up to and I mean that positively.
After seeing more videos than I care to, I am really not interested.
And the problem is, I should be.
I’m a fantasy glutton. I eat the shit up. Let me create a character, put him in a suit of armor, and let me cut shit up and I’ll happy for about 2-3 weeks.
But nothing about this game is looking interesting to me. It’s hard enough finding a straight gameplay video, and when I do it doesn’t look all that fun. Everything seems so generic and I’m not sure if the world will make up for it with it’s stories.
Maybe it’s just not my cup of tea. I’m getting the impression that me and Bioware aren’t meant to be together. ‘Tis a shame.
In other news, I beat 358/2 days a few weeks ago. The final few boss fights I thought were actually pretty cool and the story was very satisfying. I didn’t like it as much as 1 or 2, or even CoM but this game really was a pleasure to play.
I still have no need to really play this multiplayer, but playing as a fully powered Riku is pretty awesome.
Now that I’ve beaten it, though, what’s next?
Well, I seem to be in my phase of playing a shit load of mega man until I find something new to play. A phase I have every couple of months.
~Ben
I’ve been pushing through 358/2 days.
The game has grown on me much more since the last time I talked about it.
I think I’m going to call this trend, “Roxas syndrome”. A very irritating beginning blocks off a very fun game for a couple hours. KH 2 was exactly the same. It had an annoying beginning but after digging past that tutorial layer, lied a treasure chest that had one of my favorite games of all time.
This game (358/2 days, stick with me folks) is really starting to pick up in its story, the combat has finally come around (I had to grind through the mission mode to get a good weapon to find this), and the panel system becomes manageable once the game stops hoarding all the slots.
I’ll grudgingly state the panel system has grown on me.
The mission system is becoming more like Final Fantasy Tactics Advance then Metal Gear Solid Portable Ops for me. Instead of feeling like I’m being given a Diet Disney world, I find myself saying, “Just one more mission” until 2 and a half hours have passed.
I still think this is the weakest KH game I’ve played but, it’s surprisingly strong nonetheless. I’m happy to eat my words because I love this series. If you can power through the terrible case of Roxas Syndrome, this game has legs.
Lots of legs. Like a fucking spider. Like a god-spider of virtual fun.
I’d probably like spiders more if they would just provide some virtual entertainment. That’s the problems with spiders. They’re assholes. They never just want to play a few rounds of Call of Duty.
I’m clearly tired. Good night.
~Ben
