Speak the truth, or make your peace some other way

So, I'm not depressed. I'm mad and a little bit wary.

I'm supposed to talk to the ex. Why? Because people keep telling me I should. A lousy reason, indeed, but whatever. Maybe a nail in the coffin can be a good thing once in a while. Here's the deal:

I emailed her, suggesting that we talk. To be completely honest, I didn't expect a response. She's mad at me--which is odd, seeing as how I was the wronged--so I thought that she'd just delete it and we'd keep holding each other in casual contempt.

Fast forward a few weeks, and I get a response. She wants to talk. Probably because we're both on Dulcimer staff and we're sharing Dr. Stege's Lit class next semester. I guess that if she can't avoid me, she feels like she has to tolerate me. It's not exactly my idea of patching things up, which is what I had in mind.

She also says she feels like she owes me an explanation. I think I've heard enough, and any more is just going to rekindle my anger. Please, spare me the details.

As far as I can tell there's 3 likely outcomes:

1.) The worst - She'll try do defend what she did. I swear I'll leave the goddamn minute she tries to justify herself. Either that or we'll argue and one of us will storm off. Have you ever seen a pool of stagnant water, poked it with a stick, and something really fucking nasty floated to the surface? That's kinda what I'm expecting.

2.) Still bad - Nothing will be resolved. We'll sit there awkwardly for a while, try to convince ourselves that we're making some sort of headway, leave, and relapse. This is what happened last time we "made up." This is the most likely outcome.

3.) The best - We actually manage to chat a little, and manage to crack some of the ice that's formed over the past 5 months. We manage some sort of consensus where we try being friends (we've never really been friends, just lovers and enemies) or, failing that, cordial acquaintances. Oh, and I can finally hang out with my friends again.

For better or for worse, I guess I'll see this thing through. Thank you, Andrew, for encouraging me when I considered backing out. You're right. The only reason I feel like I'm hurting myself is because I'm letting down my walls to someone who took advantage of that openness before. Let's hope it doesn't happen again.

Soundtrack:
Sugarcoat - Breaking Benjamin - Saturate
Victim - Eighteen Visions - Eighteen Visions
The Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson - Antichrist Superstar
Kill Yourself - Mindless Self Indulgence - FGWSSS
Pull Harder on the Strings of Your Martyr - Trivium - Ascendency

Thoughts from this week

Ever wonder what goes on in my depraved little mind? Read and educate yourself. These are all thoughts that I've had this week.
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What exactly is pepperoni?

Holy crap! Buses should use turn signals!

Shutupshutupshutupshutup. Quit arguing.

I really hope I didn't burn that.

Damn. I burnt it.

I wonder if something semi-autobiographical would be okay.

I really don't like that song. I could shout earnestly over tumultuous guitar riffs, too, but that doesn't mean anyone cares.

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire. We don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn. Seven dead in house fire. http://www.explosm.net/comics/718/

My mom sent me coupons, but I don't have money to buy food. I hate irony.

Gross. So that's what pepperoni is.

I think that shirt should have a weight limit.

HEADSHOT!

Is there any justice, or is it all just fortune?

I can't feel my arms.

Or my legs.

Shit. This must be what a quadriplegic feels like.

B B C# F# F# F# B A A B E F# G# A.

I don't like where you're going with that, but I can recommend a book that agrees with your point.

Angry music = catharsis.

They don't make games like this anymore.

How do you let someone know you care without annoying them or making them think you have ulterior motives?
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That is all. See? I'm a simple person. Now you know.

I don't wanna come back down from this cloud

I'm so close I can practically taste it.

That's right. If you haven't read my previous post, do yourself a favor and glance a little lower and enlighten yourself.

I've found my niche. I've found a state of mind that's easy to drift into, even when I'm mad, that I'm comfortable in. What's even more exciting is that I didn't have to search for this mindset; it just happened one morning.

Is everything perfect? No. Hell no. I still like the light on. I've got several responsibilities, needs, and obligations. They aren't weighting me down, though. There's just a few things I need to get off my chest before I'm fully at peace. No point about writing it down here. I'm saving those for an in-person setting.

My muse is back in full force. I can hardly take a shower without having a great thought. My current short story project is in full force. I'm already six pages in, and it's going to be good. And I hate my own work. Bass is coming on really well. The fast Pantera stuff I'm trying to learn is clicking, and the slower classic rock is turning out well too. I don't like using a pick while playing bass, but some of the greats do, and it just doesn't sound right if I don't. I'm better at it now, though. I'm still having a little trouble with palm-muting, but that'll come with practice.

Oh, and thanks for the advice, my friend. Smiling at pretty girls is good for the soul. Especially if they smile back. Even more so if they wave.

Soundtrack:
Comedown - Bush - Sixteen Stone
Plymouth Rock - Lifter Puller - Soft Rock
Calm Like a Bomb - Rage Against the Machine - The Battle for Los Angeles
Not the Concept - Supersystem - A Million Microphones
Pledge of Allegiance - Louis XIV - The Best Little Secrets Are Kept

Peace or something similar

I feel weird. That's really all I can say.

I don't feel like the same person I went to bed as last night. Maybe it's the weather. I feel like someone's taken a graph of my emotional distribution and cut off the tail parts. Things that normally excite me elicited nothing more than mild elation. Things that used to make me angry couldn't make my gut burn.

I wouldn't say my head was in the clouds; despite the rain, there wasn't enough gray area up there to define how I feel.

The more I think the less I care. Love? It can wait. Loneliness? It's a fact of life. Want? Everyone does. All those used to bother me. For some reason, none of them have affected me today. I even tried to upset myself. I looked at some old pictures, read some old e-mails, and tried to think of parts of my past I'd rather forget. And I wasn't moved.

Regardless of this, I walked around with a sort of smile on my face all day. It was mostly absent-minded, and when I realized it, I was neither ashamed nor amused at myself. Maybe this is the state my mind belongs in. Perhaps there's a reason gray is my favorite color and the color of my eyes. I could be coming into my own.

Soundtrack for this update:
Are You With Me? - Vaux - Beyond Virtue, Beyond Vice
A To B - The Futureheads - The Futureheads
Rental Car - Beck - Guero
Pattern Skies - The Greenhornes - Sewed Soles
Blankest Year - Nada Surf - The Weight Is a Gift

Ode to silliness

Here's what I did:

I went to my Blogger profile and continually requested new random questions. These are the fruits of my labor.

1. If you were a wrestler, what would be your finishing move?

“The Septuple Ninnyhammer Suplex Supreme”

2. What's the most amount of sand you've ever had in your swimming trunks?

That’s a tough question, but I’d estimate a good quarter-cup or so.

3. Never mind the turtle. Don't you think you're sure to win?

Sure. I’m not a rabbit.

4. What would you wear for camouflage if you were hiding in a gingerbread house?

I’d cover myself with icing, roll in graham cracker crumbs, and then put sprinkles on my hands and feet.

5. You've successfully slain the dragon! How will you toast your marshmallows?

Alas! I no longer have a source of fire to roast my sugary goodness! Good thing I brought matches.

6. What would you name your ballet inspired by the sight of children leaping through a garden sprinkler?

“The Aria of Perpluit Ambulations”

7. Your people want to make a statue in your honor. What will it be made out of and what victory will it commemorate?

It will be made entirely out of obsidian gilded with platinum, and it will commemorate my victory over the Capri Sun pouch. Why are they so damn hard to drink?

8. You're trapped in a well with a goat and a slinky. Describe how you will escape.

I will befriend the goat with the gift of a slinky. When he jumps out of the well in search of stairs, I will grab his tail.

9. Do you believe that forks are evolved from spoons?

It’s likely, and we have the spork as evidence of the evolutionary process.

10. You've been entered in a shadow puppet contest. What's your best pose?

My remarkable rendition of Karl Marx.

11. What kind of tape is best for creating a sculpture?

While I’d normally be inclined to say that duct tape is the superior sculpture-making adhesive, I’ll give the nod to electrical tape since it comes in pretty colors.

12. If you drive on a parkway why don't they make the whole plane out of that?

Because of the traffic signals. What an obvious question.

13. Whoops! Your tongue is now a magnet. Whatever will you use for silverware?

Painted and laminated plasticware.

14. Please describe how you could take the peel off an apple all in one go:

Circular motion with a knife. Be careful not to cut your thumb.

15. You've written a hit musical! How will you avoid having fame go to your head?

I’ll wear a hat. And then immediately retire with my bags of money.

16. Chicken monkey shoes?

I made them myself, and I would market them, but PETA is protesting outside.

17. What's the earliest you've gotten up to watch cartoons and what did you see?

It must have been about 6:00AM, and it was an episode of Looney Tunes where Elmer Fudd shoots Daffy Ducks beak around. Classic child-friendly violence.

18. When you spilled the milk, did it look like the moon?

Unfortunately, no. It looked like I made a mess. And it had a bubble in it. I’m no astronomer, but I’m pretty sure the moon lacks bubbles.

19. Unlike a dog, how can a turtle ever be naked?

Such is the fate of the turtle. They’ll never know the joys of streaking and exhibitionism.

20. You've been invited to a fancy ball but the only thing you have to wear is an orange wooly jumper. What shoes do you wear?

Black pumps.

That was fun. I'm going to do it again sometime.