I considered multi-classing into expert or bard, but in the end I just chose another level of commoner.

I went out to the supermarket. I was just skipping through the isles sezrching for foodstuff. And I saw the back of this young woman's head, and half of it was shaved off... like the right side, and the left was in a pony tail, but there was like this scar that looked like it was from some sort of brain surgery. It was quite out of place and strange.

And so I bought some chips.

So I'm waiting in the parking lot, so I can travel with haste the towns taxi service. So I find a spot wear I know I'll be visible to the cab when it arrives, and there was this woman with a cellphone talking about some insurance benefits or unemployment or something that they needed. Now I'm not one to eaves drop but I had no were else to stand. And also I am definitely the type of creepy ass weirdo who eaves drops.

But it was kind of hard to ignore people sometimes and there are some phrases and statements that you just can't ignore. Such as, "abusive relationship" "I'm homeless now" and "My mothers boyfriend just tried to choke me"

The world is terrible, I'm going to go lock myself in my room and hide under my bed. I still can't help but suspect that the woman with the scars brain was taken from her head and replaced with a computer and she doesn't even know it yet. I also bought candy.

I made some new songs, please don't hate them.

If I go there will be trouble! But if I stay there will be double!

Alright what's this all about? Let's set the scene. I still live at my moms house, cuase I'm a dork like that. I have never had a real job becuase I have some really bad social anxiety and when I'm in a room with more than five people I have been known to freak out. But I think that's starting to get better. Socially I'm terribly awkward and very very shy. I know, and it's pretty crazy what I'm considering right now... but I'll get to the somwhat obvious late. Enough about me what else concerns this... oh yes, a bit more history.

My sister, she's about a half a year older than me. She moved out of the hous when she was barely eighteen, and before that she was rarely around anyway. Most of my friends from high school still live with there parants, even the ones who are somewhat intelligent or successful. One friend got into Wentworth engineering in Massachusetts, only to drop out and move back with his parents. I know he was aiming for MIT, but Wentworth is still a fairly good school. Other friends were just is community college, but nearly all of them seemed to burn out, and these were the ones who weren't stoners! In fact the only friend of mine who has his own house, is considering going back to college and seems to actually care about his life was the biggest pot smoker I ever knew, he also had a bit of a cocaine addiction, he's also tried acid, shrooms, an assortment of pills and opium. My point is my friends who are successful say that living on there own is too difficult, it's expensive, they have to choose between paying for food or rent. they've tried and they've failed.

But than I recall that my sister had managed to do it. She lived in Brunswick the town over for over four years before she moved to Philidelphia for another two. sure last year the economy was bad and her and her boyfriend moved back here for about five months, but than they were off to Seattle, leaving there cats behind! And that's were I come in. I've been taking care of cats. And it's nearly time for me to bring them to the west coast.

But wait, there's more! You see my mom has decided it's time to sell the house and move into a smaller house that's in the city... or, er... Brunswick which by Maine standerds is a city. I have to bring these cats to Seattle anyway and I think this is the best oppertunity I have to face the world and actually try to live on my own.I think I'll look for a job in Seattle and maybe my own apartment or something. The weather isn't too differant than here, I like rain and grunge music, I can appreciate the 1999 WTO Seattle riots.

So I'm going there... and I might just stay.

I don't know what to say. I actually had fun on my birthday. I know... that's a first.

No... you couldn't possibly. This is insanity.

To think you would come up with such a contrieved and brilliant plot, yet a plot of pure unabridged evil... one without a goal... it's as if you're plan, isn't even a plan at all. As if you have ideas and thoughts and tactics put together in a way that even you yourself do not understand. And what is it you wish to achieve... I'm not even sure I can tell, but as far as I've deciphered it is just, I'm not even sure I could describe it. unworldly.

My god it's something even a god couldn't fathom. Although it might be possible that human mind would have more ease understanding it. For perfection has no place in it. It's driven by inconsistencies and to put it simply... luck. Only one who has completely run out of sanity would attempt it, yet if you succeed than you would surely be more than a legion. You'd be an outright pseudo-deity.

So is it true, do you plan on acquiring a power glove? (see also; binge drinking while playing horrible video games all day)

The answer:

Every one of those screens that Bison is looking at is hooked up to an NES. It's true. I don't think you can actually play Street fighter on an old NES though... but that's okay... he thinks the game portrays him in a bad light anyway. He's just your good ol' average joe, hellbent on world domination. Just like you and me.

What am I supposed to do when I'm too tired to do anything, yet still bored. Oh yeah I like music, good old music. But what to listen to... something that rocks yet is fairly ambient. Let's do this... or maybe I should do nothing. If I really try, if I really try hard.<div class="blogmedia">

I will never be any good at anything... but I can certianly become less bad! I know, it's a weird way to put it. You see the album I'm working on isn't that great, but it's better than my last album. And I suppose if I made another album it will be even better than the one I'm working on now... but still probably not any good.

But I've been thinking about me and my pathetic excuse for music and wondering if there is any point to it. You see, I don't even like being around people. Most of all I hate being the center of attention. I know it may be hard for a few of you to believe but in person I'm really shy and awkward. I'm not really interested in interacting with people all that much.

Now being a musician, a real serious musician requires a certian amount of live work. Preforming for live audiences, you know playing on stage in front of a crowd. I'm not sure I could do that. I don't believe I would like that. But it's a part of the job, an important part. I just like making the music, I don't even like writing the lyrics all that much, or playing the instruments and I hate singing. But playing with music theory, messing with various scales, meters and rhythms. I love it, I love creating something that can be so much.

And what makes matters worse is I feel I have no other options, because the elements that I said I liked about music... they're probably the only things that I really enjoy at all. And they're the only things I'm really good at. I am no good with people when I speak with them in person. I stutter, pause, don't really pay attention to what they say and don't really contribute anything to the conversation. I'm not really quick, I might have an abundance of information inside my skull but I can't access it quickly. I am unable to lie, one of the most important skills one needs to develop for social encounters.

I am not physically attractive, tough or strong. I get sick fairly easily. I don't have very much endurance or strength. I'm as ugly as fuck. No self confidence, and no confidence for humanity as a whole. Ambition was something I never had an abundance of. I was a nihilist in high school. Indifferent... I accepted it because I felt it made me unbiased, something I thought was good for some reason. But without conflict there is little struggle and without struggle creative pools become stagnant, determination atrophies... and apathy becomes overwhelming. Without strong feelings of anger or sadness, there is not joy. Emotions slowly dull... thoughts become simpler and all that is left is a useless husk.

So that is how I view myself. But I really don't care... it's like nothing really bothers me. I feel like a robot just following programing. I just do what comes naturally to me, even if it's unnatural. Who wants to make cupcakes?

I may (or may not) have been acting a bit erratic lately.

I just cleared out everything in my audio list that was made recently and was below a four. Want to listen to them again? Wait for the unlikely release of my next album. Want to buy my crappy album? It's called Absynthe and you wont be able to find it... 'cause my label Trash Talkin' Hoodlums is no more. Actually I found that it still does exist, but I don't think it's the same people as before. I don't think I get payed anything for people buying that CD. I don't really care though, don't buy it. It's shit, not worth it, and only assholes would profit from you purchasing it.

Anyway now I have to put together a cool looking case for an crappy album. First I need three of four more songs were I pretend to sing about something that isn't deep at all. Than I need to make the case and artwork for the CD, more accurately my brother will make the artwork for the CD. All so that it looks semi-professional on a budget of nickles and dimes.

You must inject sadism into your vains. Do this and you will become a god. Do not ask questions, they will find no answers here. Report back here in the morning with your I.D. and proper paper work, leave it under the rug... if it does not have the proper stamps you will be executed. Don't get sad, get sadism.

...eh, whatever. I was tired last night, and the more tired I get the more compelled I am to write nonsense. Want me to write about what really went down that fateful night? ...or day, or whatever. Yesterday I got up because I knew I would have a chance to eat a steak... that's right a motherfuckin' steak. I'm poor enough that it's that big of a deal.

So I get up with like five minutes before I have to get to where ever it is I'm going. I got a library card. I learned how to play guitar. I helped push a car out of a ditch. I wrote up an alternative history to my life. I slept in until noon. I started a fire... not for fun, for cooking. I learned that the library doesn't actually have any books. I killed a pirate... no wait, that was the day before yesterday. Oh yeah, and the pirate was my brother. He was very angry about the whole thing. I don't get what the big deal was.