people:
amy
bart
chris
dane
david
devon
dewayne
dlevy
gary
jeff
joan
kainoa
matt
mitch
noah
reese
rob
ryan
sophie
stuart
will
places:
sites:
photographica.org
pollstar.com
regretsonly.com
shutterline.com
thecounter.com
thedeadletter.com
theonion.com
thesmokinggun.com
ticketmaster.com
yaccs
sounds:
anidifranco.org
beck.com
bobschneidermusic.com
cowboyjunkies.com
davidgray.com
davidmead.com
dmband.com
indiaarie.com
jackjohnsonmusic.com
johnmayer.com
matchboxtwenty.com
mattnathanson.com
norahjones.com
peteyorn.com
primitiveradiogods.com
remyzero.com
ronsexsmith.com
travisonline.com
wallflowers.com
©2000
don (at) themetroline (dot) com
« webloggers »
You know you're getting fucking old when you have to trim your nose hairs... Sweet Jesus, why the hell haven't you taken me already?
Seriously.
posted by The Cynic at 7:30 PM | | link
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Well, for those of us not in cults, I think there's something to be said for surrendering to destiny. I mean, if it's destiny, there's probably a reason for it, right? So why struggle with fate? Life can be sort of peaceful when you stop struggling.
It's a lot like drowning that way.
posted by The Cynic
at 9:42 AM |
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It's nice to have a word that can describe you. I've never had that before.
posted by The Cynic
at 12:33 PM |
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So, um... you know a movie's bad when it's about a pedophile "getting what he deserves..." and um... you're totally on the side of the pedophile.
Seriously, that movie was just so bad. I don't know if it was the script or just the acting on the part of the "teenager," but she was annoying and had to go.
And as a disclaimer, I in no way support pedophilia nor the victimization of teens. Yeah, that should go without saying, but you know, can't be too safe. Don't need to have my ass thrown into jail and be made some guy named Bruno's bitch.
Anyway, yeah... movie sucked. Everyone would have been much better off if they would've just put Chris Hansen up on the screen for a couple of hours... now that's how you do it right. I could watch that shit for days... oh, wait.. I have.
posted by The Cynic
at 4:51 PM |
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We all have to live until we die, so you might as well make the best of it.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:29 PM |
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Please be stronger than your past... the future may still give you a chance.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:23 AM |
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I feel trapped.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:12 PM |
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Overly religous people scare me.
posted by The Cynic
at 7:49 PM |
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Last night, I had a dream that I was playing with myself...
Get your mind out of the gutters you sick, twisted, sons-a-bitches.
What I mean is, I was playing with my two or three year old self. It was odd. There I was, adult me holding hands with little me. I was cute, cuddly, and... something about me was sad. Maybe sad isn't the right word. Maybe troubled is. I don't know, maybe they're both accurate.
If I look back, there are very few moments that I can remember where I was happy. I don't think I was your typical kid and I didn't have your "normal" childhood experiences. It's like there was always something wrong. What does it all mean?
Wait, I know... nothing.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:41 AM |
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Blessed is this life and I'm going to celebrate being alive.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:59 PM |
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Nothing Lasts Forever...
It is so easy to see
Dysfunction between you and me
We must free up these tired souls
Before the sadness kills us both
I tried and tried to let you know
I love you but I'm letting go
It may not last but I don't know
I just don't know
If you don't know
Then you can't care
And you show up
But you're not there
But I'm waiting
And you want to
Still afraid that I will desert you
Everyday
With every worthless word we get more far away
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe
It hurts but it may be the only way
A bed that's warm with memories
Can heal us temporarily
The misbehaving only makes
The ditch between us so damn deep
Built a wall around my heart
Never let it fall apart
Strangely I wish secretly
It would fall down while I'm asleep
If you don't know
Then you can't care
And you show up
But you're not there
But I'm waiting
And you want to
Still afraid that I will desert you, babe
Everyday
With every worthless word we get more far away
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe
It hurts but it may be the only way
Though we have not hit the ground
It doesn't mean we're not still falling,
Oh, I want so bad to pick you up
But you're still too reluctant to accept my help
What a shame, I hope you find somewhere to place the blame
But until then the fact remains
Everyday
With every worthless word we get more far away
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay
Nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe
It hurts but it may be the only way
Everyday
With every worthless word we get more far away
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe
It hurts but it may be the only way
posted by The Cynic
at 9:07 PM |
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Wait I've gone along with you on this whole thing, no questions asked. But now, I gotta know. What the hell, Francine? What is this really about? I mean, I hate Susan Sarandon, but you don't see me cutting off my hand. I just cut my hair different for awhile.
>>What is this about? Just look at that fucker with cucumbers on his eyes.
posted by The Cynic
at 3:13 PM |
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Just when I thought I was over you... just when I thought I could stand on my own...
It's the 14th.
Of May.
Which means, it's your Birthday.
And that of course means, I'm thinking about you.
Which got me to thinking... I don't want to think about you anymore.
Something inside me is telling me that it's time to let you go. I know, big secret, right? The thing is, for the most part, I have. A few posts ago, I talked about how I'm okay with how things are. I accept that it's not going to change, and I can't go back and make it any different. And that's true, I've accepted that.
I also wrote about how, although you're no longer constantly on my mind, I do think about you everyday, at least once or twice. What I've realized is, while it is out of habit, it's sort of because I've insisted on making it one. I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but for the most part, I do consciously make it a point to think about you.
See, there's this part of me that just hasn't wanted to let go. I continue to keep you in my thoughts because, well, I suppose in a lot of ways, I've felt like, if I didn't, it would mean that it really was over and done. I was basically holding on to what little left I had, because it still kept you with me. It felt like if I didn't, I'd be saying that I didn't care about you anymore. I wasn't ready to give up entirely and have it be finished.
I am now.
What's changed?
I don't know. I was just sitting here over the weekend and it just came to me. I've been at this for way too long, and I'm tired. I'm tired of carrying this burden, like some sort of sick and twisted badge of honor, and it's just time for me to let it go... to let it all go.
I have to make myself understand that I did everything that I could do. I need to know that although I did a lot of fucked up things, they weren't intentional, and I can't keep killing myself over it. I need to convince myself that it's okay to forgive myself for everything that happened. I need to realize that it's okay to move on.
My time with you was without question, the best experience of my life. My focus needs to be on that and not on the misery that I've lived in the years since you walked away.
It happened. It's done. It's okay.
Of course, I may still think of you, but I'm not going to make the effort to. I'm also not going to guarantee that tomorrow I won't feel differently. I mean, who knows, next year might see me still writing these annual posts... and maybe this is the last of them. Who knows?
I don't. And I'm not going to spend anymore time wondering about it.
I'll think of you today and remember how much I loved you and why... and that's it.
So, here it is. It's your birthday and my gift to you, and to myself, is that I'm letting you go and setting you free.
Happy Birthday.
posted by The Cynic
at 12:53 PM |
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Texting, 1-2-3. Texting, 1-2-3.
I'm about to have a little rant here, so bare with me.
Am I the only person who thinks it's unbelievably rude to send someone text messages unless you've asked first if it's okay?
I guess sending one message isn't so bad, but repeatedly sending messages, especially if the person never responds, I think that's uncouth.
I just think it's really weird to assume that a) someone has texting in their plan and b) that they want you to be texting them all day.
Case in point. There was someone that I knew who sent me a text. I can't remember what it said, something simple, like "hi." I didn't want to encourage it, so I didn't bother to respond. This however, did not deter the texter. Over the next couple of days, I kept getting texts from said person that were really meaningless. Things like, "Hey," "I'm cold!," and "I lost my favorite socks!" I still didn't answer, thinking that texty McText would eventually stop.
Wrong.
I eventually got a text of... Song Lyrics. Yes, the idiot sent me song lyrics. And not just a phrase or two... the entire song, including choruses that repeated, all of which consisted of too much text, and therefore, had to be sent in five different messages.
Too far.
That was the point where I decided to tell Texty that I didn't have texting on my phone or plan (yes, a lie, but I figured it was my best option). The fucker responded by saying, "Oh, that's okay... I like texting. It makes me feel good... so I'm going to keep sending them. I don't care if you actually get them or not. And if you dont have it in your plan, they'll just charge you per text."
Say WHAT?
Yes, I know that's probably an extreme case. And no, I'm not anti-texting... but I still think there needs to be some texting etiquette. Namely, ask before you text.
I know some will say that there's no difference in calling... like you wouldn't ask if it's okay to call someone, if they gave you their number (although, in some circumstances, you still should), but there is a difference. Some people really don't have texting in their plan, and by just randomly texting them, you're basically being thoughtless and saying, "fuck you, pay extra for my little message."
Am I right?
Does that make any sense at all?
Now give me your number, and let me text you.
posted by The Cynic
at 6:04 AM |
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...and I wonder how I never got the burn and if I'm ever gonna learn, how lonely people make a life.
posted by The Cynic
at 6:01 AM |
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Since you've been away, I've been down and lonely. Since you've been away, I've been thinking of you.
Eight years.
You really didn't think another one would go by without me mentioning it, right? I guess you can chalk it up to the sick, masochist in me.
Again, didn't sneak up on me like it has in past years. I've been conscious of it for weeks now... and the weird thing was, I was okay with it. I was strangely fine. None of this gloominess or earth shattering pain. I started to think, it's over. I'm finally done with the sting of it all.
And then...
Tuesday rolled around and I started feeling this sadness. It was trapped in my chest and I couldn't shake it. Since then, I've felt so vulnerable and any little thing was about to set me off. Seriously, if someone would have told me that they got a paper cut, I would have lost it.
So yeah, it's you.
Trying to understand the reason you left me, what were you going through?
Eight years and I still don't know.
I mean, I know what I did... but I don't know if you do. And I don't know if those were your reasons.
There was this thought last week... see, I knew that someone was avoiding me and although I normally would have said, "to hell with it," I decided that I wasn't going to let them get away with it that easily. So, I had this quasi-confrontation and basically called them out.
When it was all over and done, it turned out that this person felt like they were getting in too deep and needed to back off. It apparently had nothing to do with me, but rather some personal/emotional stuff that needed to be sorted out. They apologized and admitted that I was right, that they didn't handle it very well and shutting me out like that was a pretty craptastic thing to do.
Of course all of this, brought me back to you. I started wondering if perhaps that's what happened to you. Maybe all the stress, all of the changes you were going through, the difficulty of our situation... maybe it took its toll on you and you needed a break from it all.
It's not the first time this has come up and I've had to think about it before. I always come to this conclusion though, no way. The anger in you that day, the fact that eight years later and our situation is still the way it is... yeah, the answer is pretty simple, you hate me.
Actually, I don't think I can say you even hate me. To do so would imply that you still care.
You don't.
And you don't think about me.
And that's okay.
I'm missing you, tell me why the road turns...
In the years following, the incident I think one of the hardest parts was not knowing why it all happened. And now, I'm okay with that. It doesn't matter anymore for a couple of reasons.
First, it's over. No matter what it is that I did, it won't change the way things are. Even if in the remote chance that I actually didn't do anything, it's done. With all this time that's lapsed, there's no way we could ever be anything to one another again. It's sad, but true.
Second, I know that you're better off without me in your life. I can bet most anything that you're actually happy now and there's no way you would be if I were around.
Third, whatever your reasons were, even if they weren't what I suspect them to be, I still did those things and none of this can be undone.
So, what's the point?
I'm surprised that I can actually see things with such clarity. I mean, I can actually accept these things now. It's not killing me and I'm not a wreck like I was for so many years. I say that, and people don't actually realize that I say that with no exaggeration. I literally went almost seven years in constant, daily despair.
As I look around, I see things that remind me. Just to see you smile, made my heart fill with joy. I still recall all those dreams we shared together. Where did you run to, boy?
In eight years, there has not been a day that I have not thought about you. But it's different now. Before, I'd obsess about what happened... how it happened... what you were doing now... how much I missed you... and all of that would throw me into this space where I felt like I just didn't want to exist.
Now when I think about you, it's different. I don't feel devestated or sad or anything like that. When I think about you, I guess it's more like a passing thought. I wonder about where you are and what you're doing, but that's about it. There's an ocassional thought about what it would have been like between us had things worked out differently, but it passes pretty quickly.
That in itself sort of amazes me. Where I used to think about you every single minute, it's now only once or twice a day. I know it might seem like that's not much of an accomplishment... like maybe after eight years, you should be completely out of my mind, but you just have no idea.
Sometimes I've wondered, I didn't understand. Just where you were trying to go, only you knew the plan. And I tried to be there, but you wouldn't let me in. But now you've gone away boy, I feel so broken hearted. I knew the day we started that we were meant to be, if only you'd let me.
I know that I might not be completely over you and "the incident" but I am so much better than I ever thought that I would be. Despite how I've been feeling the past couple of days, I'm grateful to have gotten to the point where I can say that I'm okay.
Of course I wish that things were different, but they're not. If given the chance to change things I would, but I can't.
I understand that you did what you needed to do for yourself. There are so many things out of life that you wanted, that I know I could never have given to you. I know that it was actually pretty selfish of me to let things go on between us as long as they did. I've continued to hold on to you and I know that's been wrong too. I sincerely hope that you're happy now and that all those things you needed are yours now.
Life goes on though and I'm getting through it.
They say that it takes seven years to shed your skin and I wonder if it's the same for your emotional wounds. Seems pretty accurate in my case. I guess all I can do is hope that it gets better.
At all sense this any make?
Scrambled, I know... like my brain in a frying pan... or something like that.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:51 AM |
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Three, three, three in a row.
What's with tonight? Something in the air?
Three conversations. Three different people. All of them being antagonistic.
I'm wondering if it's me, but no, for once, it's not something I can blame myself for.
Um, yay?
posted by The Cynic
at 8:57 PM |
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Under pressure.
So, we all know that I'm not the brightest guy around, right?
All week, I just haven't been feeling well at all. My body's felt like it's been on pins and needles, I've been having this pain in my chest, and today I've had this really bad headache. I've been taking the advil, (but of course NOT going to see a medical professional... because who care's about chest pains, right?) but it hasn't been helping. I've been wondering why the hell I've had the headache all day, why it won't go away, and why it doesn't feel like my typical headaches. It just dawns on me like 5 minutes ago that it's a tension headache. And then it just dawned on me 3 minutes ago that it's all tension... all of my ailments are tension related.
Why I'm tense, I don't know. Then again, I think I'm always tense, seriously. I realized a few days ago that my eyebrows are always furrowed and my forehead's always strained. Oh, yeah, and ever since I was a kid, my neck and body has never been relaxed. NEVER. Seriously. Shoulders are always raised and my body's always uptight... I always feel anxious and like I'm going to have a stroke.
Again, why? Why the hell am I always so tense? I don't think I've actually ever been relaxed. If I have been, I certainly can't remember when. It probably doesn't help that I have the blood pressure of someone who's 60, huh?
I'm so dumb.
Pressure pushing down on me.
posted by The Cynic
at 7:47 PM |
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Mayonaise.
You really are a fucking cunt.
A fucking, selfish, dirty, cunt.
posted by The Cynic
at 7:00 PM |
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Jewel... without the snaggle tooth.
posted by The Cynic
at 1:13 PM |
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Who taught this monkey to turn in betrayal of his friends?
I realized the other day that whenever spring rolls around, my relationships with people end... en masse.
Why? I don't know. I have to stop and wonder if maybe it's something that I've been doing, but I don't think so. I mean, really, it's just sort of odd. Like clockwork, spring approaches and people, without any discussion, without a final word, walk out of my life. I have no control over that, right?
So, someone tell me, what is it about this time of year that makes people disappear?
Yeah, so, I think I kind of hate spring... or maybe I should hate people. Yeah, people suck.
I guess I'm just everyone's expendable person. I should totally just get a shirt that says, "disposable" on it.
posted by The Cynic
at 3:41 PM |
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I've come to the realization that the only reason Martin Scorcese makes films is so that he can throw around racial slurs. Seriously.
posted by The Cynic
at 6:05 PM |
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My favorite names for vagina?
Panty Bacon
Beer Cozy
Baby Gap
Mordor
Oh, and Agnus
Now how about you, pal? What do you call vagina?
I call it a taxi so I can roll over and get some sleep.
posted by The Cynic
at 3:09 PM |
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...someone just told me they want to have sex with me... oh my.
posted by The Cynic
at 10:36 PM |
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It's electrifying...
I electrocuted myself today... because I'm a dumb fuck.
posted by The Cynic
at 5:29 PM |
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How may I help you?
You can start by wiping that fucking, dumb ass smile off your rosy, fucking cheeks. Then you can give me a fucking automobile.. a fucking Datsun, a fucking Toyota, a fucking Mustang, a fucking Buick. Four fucking wheels and a seat.
I really don’t care for the way you’re speaking to me.
And I really don’t care for the way your company left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, with fucking keys to a fucking car that isn’t fucking there. And I really don’t care to fucking walk down a fucking highway and across a fucking runway to get back here to have you smile at my fucking face. I want a fucking car right fucking now.
May I see your rental agreement
I threw it away.
Oh boy.
Oh boy, what?
You’re fucked.
Yeah, that's how these Holidays have had me fucking feeling. Yes, the Holidays this year have been really shitty... moreso than any other I can ever recall. That's okay though, they're over and done with, right?
So, annual year in review. If I had to sum up 2006, I suppose it would best be described as the year that I stopped caring.
-This was the year that I, for the most part, got over, "the incident."
-It was the year I decided to let "B" go her own way.
-2006 had me once again cutting people out who wouldn't, or couldn't, respond to me, the way I do to them.
-I turned 30, and actually feel pretty good.
-I've met some really cool people whom I think have enriched my life.
-I realized how beneficial, and sometimes how easy, it is to let go.
All-in-all, despite the frustrations and setbacks, this year turned out to be a pretty decent one. This broken man, assembled some of the smashed pieces, not all, but a lot of them, and learned to keep walking. Here's hoping to God he can remember how to keep doing it.
posted by The Cynic
at 11:30 PM |
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You got that fucking right. Fuck Christmas and Fuck You!
posted by The Cynic
at 6:20 PM |
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To B.:
In the future, just remember, you made your choice.
posted by The Cynic
at 4:25 PM |
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