"If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all who claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think everything you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told you should want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned ......Tyler"

 Submitted for the approval of The Midnight Society, I call this story:

Other's Day

Early one Sunday afternoon, Jeffery was ashamed to be awake. It wasn’t nearly dark enough to travel outside unnoticed, a constant concern for the tall man with the baby face. Individuals like Jeffery can hardly travel around without eyes looking up at him. Jeffery enjoyed the night because nobody cares about what he looks like, if they can even catch him. The night is when he lived, when he worked, when he played, casting the sun as his new moon.

            Hiding under the blankets, he managed to catch glimpses of the exposing light. It seemed so bright having been in bed all morning.

            “Yet another morning…no job”, as he looks to his empty kitchen. The idea of the kitchen, living room, and bedroom all being the same room cannot sound appealing, no matter how anyone puts it, but he had no choice. Sometimes it was hard to sleep; apparently mice can quite easily climb up on top of mattresses sitting on the floor. Looks like the hippies aren’t so cool after all.

            “Looks like the hippies aren’t so cool after all”, as Jeffery looked at his bed. An old box spring mattress burrowed an old high-school classmate, blankets from the 90’s, and a pillow that he used to keep in his car was where the magic happens. How romantic; and all he had to do to achieve this was “live free” and move out from mom’s.

            This is what he got for choosing the life of an artist. His only dream was to not end up like all the executives and officers that sprout and infest in the suburbs of America. He couldn’t see himself in a suit, although he did receive compliments at the Tuscany Hills Middle School Boys Basketball Tournament Banquet, shame it was the last time he wore one.

Jeffery stares down at the watch, still surprised he chose to stay awake, even when he knew what day it was. Family upon family will be outside, reminding him of what he chose to sacrifice. Don’t be fooled, living independently also means living alone. There is no more mommy spoon-feeding her children in the high-chair. Being free from the high-chair also means being free from the spoon too. Kids have it pretty good, they get free food, free rent, free toys.

            “And all the free sodas…”, as he reminded himself of the many paper cups stored in his trunk. It was actually Jeffery’s mom who picked out the car for him in the first place. Dan, mom’s boyfriend at the time, wanted to get a used pick-up from one of his guys at the site, but mom refused and got him a new Toyota instead. One of the many perks on this Japanese baby was side pocket in the trunk, perfect for containing smaller items like tennis balls found in the street, old socks, or a large-sized cups from every major fast-food establishment. And all the free sodas…

            In order to avoid suspicion, as it was something he was very used to, he kept the previous lids and straws on the empty cup, as to give the appearance that he was a returning customer that was coming back for a refill. The need came for the rest of the cups when the workers finally noticed the same guy coming in everyday, and never ordering anything. It’s at that point that Jeffery began his fascination with the cups. Parking next to other unoccupied cars, he got out and searched for his Carl’s Jr cup. The rest of the routine continues as follows:

            Open the doors quickly, but not aggressively as to attract unnecessary attention (people love angry customers at restaurants, a meal and a show), to demonstrate that you are in a hurry and would not like to talk to anyone. Pace yourself over to the fountain, avoid eye contact, but don’t make it look like you are avoiding eye contact. Make it look like you are crunching numbers in your head, perhaps slightly counting a finger or two. No matter how much ice you want, always pour about 1 cup (1 handful, just eyeball it) of ice into the cup. The goal is to not look picky as to how you want your ice, anything out of the ordinary should be avoided. So if you have too much ice, don’t pour it back out, you’ve already wasted enough time. Pick a normal drink, nothing separated and fancy like iced tea or horchata. Re-cap the lid, count a few more fingers, and use the doors you came through to exit. Using your peripherals, if you see any employees continuously looking at you during any point, stay calm, nobody wants a confrontation. Finish the job, don’t come back for another week or two, and that’s only if you have to. To Jeffery, this was like the time-tables to an overachieving fourth-grader.

            Ignoring the fact that his mother would hate the fact that her son knows how to steal soda, Jeffery was lifted by his recent success. He thought maybe he would just drop a line for Mother’s Day, and nothing else. Almost night and he had to get going. Although he had the look up the number, his fingers seemed to guide themselves.

            Ring…ring…ring…ring… the familiar robotic voice that answered wasn’t her mother, “You have reached the voice mailbox of (awkward pause) ‘Jane Bogins’ if you would like to leave…” His finger instinctively hit #1, *BEEP*

            “Hey mom… uh.. happy mother’s day”, finding his voice weak before he set the receiver down. The kitchen-living-bedroom seemed quieter than usual. He wondered if she would even call him back at all, let alone tonight. Waiting for the night, Jeffery sat on the mattress, stirring the remainder of the ice, crushing the rest in his mouth.

            “I should’ve stuck with diet.”

 it's how you do it.

 t3htim@gmail.com 

 
When you look at me what do you see?


A. A tired artist
B. A tired stoner
C. A tired human being
D. All of the above
E. None of the above
F. D. & E.
G. All of the above

choose wisely.

 i was actually typing this in the reply section for travis, but i felt needed to be better addressed.

i find that the majority of the people in college chase after a false sense of perfection. these seemingly nice people chase after the jerks or bitches because that is the image associated with popularity, which is then associated with the highest desire/accomplishment of that desire. the jerk closely resembles the celebrity attitude that they are "better" than everyone else around them, and the bitch is simply "too hot" for ordinary people. This, however, may not be a fault of anyone on either side, the sides being: those who have the celebrity attitude, and those who chase it. i say that because we are all victims of it, we literally see it everywhere, so thats all we know.

it is so ironic that its everywhere, yet there's no solid evidence that anyone is above everyone else. in reality, celebrities are the ones who are suffering for their fame and so-called status; the only way they can fight is to either give it all up or make the image like they are the shit. back to your point trav: this is why people wanna be with the assholes, because the assholes may be seen (subconsciously or not) with the potential to have that higher status, therefore if they end up with them, they too get a higher status. it so disgusting how some people want there friends to be jealous of them. that is no friendship to begin with. its even advertised in weight loss stuff: "Want to make all of your friends jealous at the next party?" i actually saw that in a commercial. Un-fucking-believable. i turned off the tv.

so what do you (we) do from here? now that we have the tools to see past all that bullshit and live life for what it actually is and could be, how do we use it? I just wish my words could reach more ppl and be a stepping stone for change, for a revolution. The first person this needs to reach is me. i still get hurt from time to time by people who have this view, and it's my own fault for not realizing that i have this view too, only i wasnt playing by its rules. i was looking for diamonds in a pile of shit, i wanted another diamond to be with. the only problem was, when you're a pile of shit, you get used to it and then you dont see that you're a pile of shit. the smell doesnt bother you anymore. sooner or later, you convince yourself to be a diamond. how does it come to that? "well i dont see myself as a pile of shit, why not just be a diamond?"

"be the change you want to see"
and i'd like to add: and the rest will follow but seriously, what do i know about other people's motivations? what do i even know about myself?

just something to think about when you have a minute to yourself

Current Location: My mind
Current Mood: apathetic
Current Music: The Devil Wears Prada

 In this kind of environment, i am not being challenged enough, and nor do I have a reason to be challenged. I've always had everything that I wanted and have never had to fight for it. I can see how people in poverty, or the lower class, would grow in rage at the very sight of me.

I have nothing to fight for. I am not motivated. I haven't lost anything to regain. 

Bland.

I've decided to severely cut back on soda, fast-food, and red meat (I'll still eat chicken though). Why? Simply to see if I can? I'm very bad at commitment to anything, so why don't I start somewhere.

Let's see how long I last.

October 23rd, 2008: Day 1

Hey John, What's Your Name Again? - The Devil Wears Prada

This song addresses a lot of problems that I personally deal with. Friendship, confidence, self-esteem, duty, revelation, and love all rolled into one.

the title of the entry is the line i'll be talking about. first of all, let me say that the following words may sound like im some cocky bastard (sometimes i can be, ESPECIALLY at SCC) but its all relative and i hope you can see the world through my eyes for just 5 minutes. Chris and i have talked about the status of where we are in other people's lives. the first words that come up may be: friends, brother, and son. But what im talking about is how we influence others, whether or not anyone sees that. Ok i have a lot of close friends, a lot of ppl that have shared their inner most thoughts and feelings with me, and i guess as a result, a lot of people who look up to me. i never thought i'd be in a position where people looked up to me to help them in an emotional crisis, to pick up the gloomy mood, to break the silence, to be tim chow.

Interjection: sometimes i dont want to be me. sometimes i want to be that asshole/jerk that flirts and hooks up, to get in fights and win them.

For the sake of those people, i cant change who i am. do i even really want to change in the first place? or should i just wear it with pride? 

I think if i change, this place would fall apart. and by this place i mean the world. if i lose my faith in humanity, the bridges of my brothers and sister will soon collapse. if i stopped caring, so will others. once crude example is julie. for those who don't know, shes quite the basket case, ESPECIALLY when she drinks. NO ONE and i do me NO ONE has faith in her. they ALL think that shes a hopeless drunk who is infamous for hooking up with a lot of guys and then never talks to them again. There were a couple times where i just wanted to give up on her, because she just wont listen to me. But at the first glimpse of my resignation as her guardian, she just lost it. In the end it looks like she needs me there, and its something that i have to do.

if i change for the worse, others wont hesitate to do the same. my responsibility to mankind is to stick to my guns.

but we all find ourselves so horribly weak.

can i do it? Am i strong enough?



venting 50% complete...

 Why?




p.s. let not the length or quality of other people's responses hinder, limit, or minimize your answer.

p.s.s. if i could get all the responses before sept 26th, that would be awesome :)

rejection sucks overall, but it is pretty awesome. I asked someone out (sort of) which i didn't think i would do because all the ppl left in anaheim hills/the rest of the world is either really stupid, or really slutty, or a combination of both. I took a chance, i didn't hit, and i dont regret a single thing. It didn't lower my self esteem, and it havent caused me to second-guess myself. If anything, it liberated me from where i was before. I live my own creed for once and it payed off (at least emotionally and mentally). Don't hesitate next time fellas, just fucking go for it. If you run into some shit along the way, i got your back. 

cruedly quoting Good Will Hunting (if you haven't seen it, its like top 5 in my list of fav. movies):

"...because any one of them would take a fuckin bat to your face because they have something you'll never understand: loyalty"

and my favorite:

"he gave me the options of what i was going to get beaten with: a belt, a (something else), and a wrench"

"which one did you pick?"

"the wrench"

"why the wrench?"

"cause fuck him, thats why"

i leave you guys with:
Stay Brutal. (and more importantly)
Stay Positive.

Current Location: Home
Current Mood: bouncy
Current Music: None?? wow..