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Mr. Bubbles

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June 28th, 2008

I'm still Alive

Random message.

I've started writing again.

February 26th, 2008

List three things you'd buy with your last $20. One practical, one frivolous and one of your choosing.

A cheap knife. Zombie Survival Handbook.
And yarn, as much yarn as possible.

December 4th, 2007


I am thinking of starting a small time clothing store. It all started with me planning on making beekeeping screen prints for a few people. I'm aiming for designs like threadless.com That indie kind of look. Maybe even bee related, I don't care. If you have any ideas or art, message me or send me a pic, I'll pay you if I use it.

October 21st, 2007

(no subject)

People use god as a coping tool.
THat's all, a scapegoat.
In middle east, during a holy war,
every bullet is an athiest.
God's not going to stop an IED from
crushing your humvee.

If you use a higher power to take weight off your shoulders,
doesn't it leave you a little more complacent?

July 10th, 2007


Here's the big news of the day.

I saw a toad.
I caught a spider.
I got tired of the spider because he isn't as predatory as he looks.
I went out to find more bugs.
I have enough free time at work to catch bugs and fight them against each other.

I am too tired to write. Not really tired but...
I used to be a writer. I used to write.
Why do I wait around for that perfect dream moment where I write like a mad man. It's like I'm just too lazy.

June 20th, 2007

Ultimate Cat enjoyer.

I love kittens. They are so bad ass. ANd puppies. I wish I had a pet here. Alittle friend to tell all my secrets to. At one point I had an actual journal I'd confess everything to, but I forgot about it for a month, and upon finding it, had to rip the pages up and flush them. Too horrible.

I've been reading alot. Palahnuik's new book "rant" was pretty bad ass. Thinking about going into AMy Hempel. Also, Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut. Real estate books give me a kick, I like to imagine myself with loads of cash. Been playing the stock market alittle, making some bank.

Gotta work Tommorow. Gotta eat tommorow, gotta run tommorow, gotta live.

I'm coming out of a cave I've been hiding in for the last 9 months. As soon as I got to Korea, I threw my emotions into a little closet and tranced out the world in the states. Living in the moment for almost a year. That's one long moment. I've been feeling so tired lately. I'm trying tog et my paperwork through to get myself sent to Ft. Drum. I hope I got there. I miss everyone, even if I never really talked to them more than a handful of times. I've been focused on new, short term friends since I've been in the army. I can't say to these guys, "remember back when.........."

I've been downloading alot of music lately. I'm going home soon and I'm going to be dealing with alot of stress from thinking too much. So much stuff that's gonna happen. A weird singer I've found, Joanna Newsom. What a bizzarre but enchanting style. My spelling has gone to shit, I haven't written in a while. Use it or lose it I guess. I need to get in a band whereever I go. Me and my bud here have a decent 2 person band. Guitar and Mandolin. I love the mandolin, it's so badass. I would like to see what an electric mando would sound like through distortion. Imagine playing solos in a hardcore band.

Experiencing the future is lame compared to dreaming about it.
Experiencing the past is lame compared to dreaming about it.
The grass is always greener on the other side.
We are never completely satisfied. Is this a survival instinct? It doesn't make sense. But I guess we can't just be happy and chill out in a natural opium den enviroment.

Rarely, but not so rare that it never happens, I wake up happy. Like really happy. Not a care in the world.

FACT: I like to analyze human traits and behaviors and think about why they stayed in the gene pool. Most things we do are linked to some primitive need.

I'd like live as a nomad. Never staying in one spot. Green Grass.
I'd like to live the american dream. Good money, a house, kids, dog. A neighbor that plays his music loud all the time. He's 35 years old and hangs out with college kids. He has a G.E.D. And possibly sells drugs. Green Grass.
I'd like to go back into the days of castles and knights with a sniper rifle (unlimited ammo code enabled of course.)

I like: Gin and Tonics. Coffee. Camel Lights. Post rock. Running. Cities. Smiles.

i'M GETTING better I think, at redeveloping that fluidity. That hand eye type of thing. Mind to font. Mind to font.

I hate anxiety. It's paralyzing. It makes me freeze up when people expect me to shine my brightest. My friend brought djarums for me from Hawaii. What a bad ass.

They remind me of the quiet nights playing mandolin at the smoking area in Ft. Gordon.

They remind me of a bliss that never really happened. I just romanticize what actually happens.

Night air, warm with a cool breeze. A djarum numbing my lungs.
A whole ambush of ideas and emotions. It feels great, in a melancholy type of way.

I live 13 hours into the future

June 19th, 2007

Time stops.

I see it in my head. I'm supposed to tell you this is a city. I'm supposed to mention this scene is a park, around 11pm (23:00), in some typical lonely suburban area where no one goes outside at night. The night and everyone in it slumbers away while I walk this path, lit only by small street lamps made to keep the things that go bump in the night unseen. The air smells of that cold smell, what I imagine is the smell of ghost snowflakes. There's a hint of gasoline. This hoodie is too thin to keep me warm.

As a kid I used to pretend to run away to the woods until the romance of the idea lost it's magic. It usually took about 4-5 hours. I can't see my own feelings as clearly as I used to. I can't wait to have civilian friends again. I feel I left everyone, I might as well have forgotten about them. Sometimes I check on their myspaces to see how their lives are. All theyre pictures are happy, but that doesn't say enough.

Myspace, our little windows into people's lives.

And when I see all these people, I wish I was there, back in the states.

Move to another city, You'll want to go back. Stay, and you'll want to move. Move to a new country, and you'll want to go back.

Looks like I'm hitting Ft. Hood on my next stop. 4TH ID. Weird, I'm a satellite maintainer and operator, going to 4th ID.

It's been almost a year since I've seen my fiancee. It's been a year since I have had any kind of intimate feelings. I've spent a year as cold as a doctor's stethoscope. It's been so long since I've been able to take off my skin and spill my guts, to release some pressure from my brain.

Thinking like this isn't healthy, it could lead to depression.
What's funny about depression is it's so comfortable to stay in and sink deeper and deeper, like an astronaut on a new planet.

Why leave as soon as you touch base?

It's been so long since I've written and I've completely forgot how to write. My sentences used to stream so well into each other. Now they all feel like their own paragraph. Anti-FLUIDity. Maybe I should keep on writing.

I've had the strangest dreams, ranging from being Alex from A Clockwork Orange (fav. book) to walking off post and finding out korea has been torned by war and all that's left are piles of crumbled buildings and bears. Bears everywhere. How scary is that? MOTHER FUCKING BEARS! I had another dream about bears a few weeks ago. I was out camping with my fiancee and sister, and we were hiding in a truck after realizing bears were all over the place.

I really want to talk to a random person about life right now. You know, vent.
Every once in a blue moon I vent out on some random female friend on my aim and it makes me feel way better. This is just a phase.

Why do all these songs play on my shuffled winamp list now? The CURE? Great. Deeper and Deeper. Deeper and Deeper. I can only write in the dark, with all my lights out except for my computer. It helps me focus. It feels like turning all the lights out gives a outerspace kinda atmosphere for my thoughts to linger. Like an extension of that dark ou see when you close your eyes. Not physical, but what comes up mentally, that dark little chalkboard of ideas.

I'll be back sometime. This is getting to long and deep for the moment. DOn't wanna scare myself away.

February 7th, 2007

The end of it all.

"You've never lived until you've almost died."
I read this everytime I go to the bathroom at my favorite bar. It's positioned directly at eye level above the only urinal. Everytime It hits me with a bittersweet end of the world feeling, and everytime, I tell myself to put it on my Lj. The thing that hits me so hard about it is this is a bar for soldiers. All the bars in the ville are. These are people willing to fight. I can't say fight for America, or the people because I don't know. Every single person has their own reason, I've met all kinds of people. I can't say I myself would claim that I was fighting for freedom. When it happens, it's self-defense. We want to keep ourselves and our brothers alive.

"You've never lived until you've almost died."
How long has that been there? Undoubtedly written by another soldier. I wonder where he is right now. Still here? Alaska? Iraq?

February 5th, 2007


Still missing home. It's like an empty spot in my heart that won't go away/

January 31st, 2007


Not much to say. Just letting everyone know I'm alive. I am really missing Ny alot. Wish I was home. I feel like my real life is on hold for the next 2 1/2 years. This isn't my real life. My real life is with my fiancee.
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