Home Coming

Returning home after a long time away feels much the way I imagine it would to be a ghost. The rest of the world keeps spinning but I feel like I’ve stepped back in time. Or at any rate, expected nothing to have changed. I suppose that nothing really did change, except the seasons.
In the great scheme of things, I really wasn’t away from home for all that long. Six months isn’t that long, but to me it feels like I’ve returned to my boyhood home after growing into an old man, and finding the town and it’s characters still doing the exact same thing they were when I left. Its an odd feeling, and I can’t help feeling like I’m just drifting through here and tomorrow I’ll wake up back on the west coast in that piece of shit apartment with no damn job again.
Maybe the time spent away from home feels like such an eternity because the experience has aged me considerably. Maybe I feel old just because California was so thoroughly exhausting, both mentally due to the stress of impending failure/homelessness, and physically because its so damn hot that five minutes in California feels like a lifetime of hard labor and poverty.
It amazes me how much of Cape Cod I took for granted, never taking the time to stop and appreciate the little things that make this place great. True, pretty much every person living on Cape is a douche or an alcoholic, but the air is wonderful here. Its sad that you can’t smell it anymore once you’ve lived here long enough, but coming over the bridge we rolled the windows down and that smell of saltwater and beach plums filled the car. I love that smell.
I also missed the sound of crickets. This one I actually did bother to appreciate, its a sound I’ve always loved, and I mentioned many times in California how badly I missed it. Apparently I underestimate how badly I missed that sound, because every time I step outside I take a few seconds to really listen to it. There are SO MANY of them. Trying to imagine the sound of crickets, I’d picture three or four of them, and even that was splendid. In reality though, there are so many that they make their own kind of atmosphere; a less tangible one. A blanket of noise that surrounds you just like air.
Later this week I’ll walk down to Week’s pond and let the peepers sing for me too.
Another thing that California simply doesn’t have is stars. Auburn wasn’t a huge city, and if you looked up you could certainly see that the stars still existed, but it just wasn’t the same out there. Looking up from my parent’s driveway, you can really see the depth of space and the distance between each star. The longer you look, the more appear. In California, the stars are there, but really with none of the depth or majesty you get here. Its more like someone left little pinpricks in a black ceiling. They aren’t even all that bright, more a smattering of dull grayish spots.
The smell here, as I mentioned earlier, is fantastic. Not just that beach smell, but the night smell too. You know, that night smell? Its like air, except you can’t breathe enough of it and every breath leaves you feeling freer and more elated. California smells like dust during the day and car exhaust at night.

Aimee and I have quite a few things to look forward to here. I plan to resume floor installation where I left off, and Aimee hopes to resume her career at CVS where she left off as well. I hope she gets the job, but she is amazing and will figure out something to do either way, I’m not worried about it at all.
My parents advised many times against living with Shawn and Carrie, and although I think it’d be cool for the first few days, I must admit they are right. I don’t want to impose either, but we didn’t have much choice. Anyway when it became apparent that we weren’t changing our minds about the living situation they decided to let us live here again, however briefly and with a few ground rules. We have to be on our way out, no setting up camp and staying indefinitely as we did last time. No wasting money on crap and not working consistently. We have to be constantly searching for an apartment and should set our sights on being out in a few weeks.
While it is difficult to hear so many rules and regulations from my folks, I understand completely and am glad they’re being hard on us this time around; its so easy to let yourself get complacent.
Apparently they also took out a life insurance policy on me when i was born, and have been paying extra into it since then. They took all the “extra” money they’ve put into it so far and will be giving it to us to get us started. Its nice they found a way to help us, considering that my dad spent most of the year unemployed, though they did warn that if i kick the bucket tomorrow i’ll have to be buried in a pine box, crackhead style. Thats alright with me, pine is relatively weak and if I’m buried alive or come back from the dead, I want a coffin that won’t be too hard to claw through.

All that being said, I’d like to rant briefly about the aggravation involved in driving 3300 miles in five days. Many apologies to Peter Parkour, who i’ve never met personally but seems to be a good guy,but I’ve officially had about enough of truckers to last me a lifetime. Why is it that a trucker feels its alright to nearly kill someone cutting them off in the passing lane at the last possible second, then spending the next 20 miles creeeeeping past another trucker? Can’t they see that I’m doing 90 in a corolla and that if he/she waited 2 seconds I’d be literally miles down the road and out of sight? I’d also like to point out to everyone else that passing lane means PASSING lane. If you aren’t PASSING anyone then you don’t need to be in the PASSING LANE. Thats why its called the passing lane and not the drift-along-like-an-asshole-stupidly-unaware-that-there-are-40-cars-tailgating-you-and-you-are-causing-a-massive-obstruction-in-traffic-lane. Maybe they should call it something else, since no one uses it the way its intended to be used anyway. Every state and it’s drivers have their own attitude/demeanor as far as ignorant jackass driving goes. In New Jersey they could call it the Fuck You Lane. In Indiana they could call it the skipitty-doo. If you’re visiting from out of state you could call it the Default Lane, or the Too Chickenshit To Move Over Lane.

Alright then, thats enough for now. I go back to work tomorrow.

I’d also like to apologize to anyone whos comments I haven’t responded to, I’ve just been busy and will get around to it tomorrow most likely.

What Dreams May Come

Just finished Richard Matheson’s book What Dreams May Come. It was a thoroughly amazing and informative book, and I think that anyone who plans on dying eventually should read it. Unlike the movie, (which I downloaded because i was reading the book, and is an EPIC piece of crap) the book is not about some wonderful fantasy land we all get to goto when we die. The afterlife IS certainly pleasant, but the book is more about the philosophy of death and the three bodies we have and the two “deaths” one needs to face to get to the afterlife. Infact, the idea of heaven portrayed in the movie isn’t even close to total nirvana, its one of the lower levels of the afterlife.
The idea is that the soul learns and grows and surpasses previous limitations with each life and become a better soul. (You’d become a worse soul if you were a suicide/rapist/murderer) You can only surpass limitations on earth because the physical body had a very limited ability to see and manipulate it’s surroundings. I suppose I could go on, but I really don’t want to sound like some religious kook because I’m not. I loved the book and also loved that it supported my theory that every religion and theology and ethos is really only getting a tiny tiny piece of the picture. No one is wrong but no one is completely right either. The afterlife is completely subjective and although there is a reality to it and the way it works, you will really only see what you want to see. Which can also be dangerous.
I especially liked the idea that death isn’t really DEATH. it isn’t the end of anything, its just a transition to the next phase of life, shedding one body (the shell) for another, and a higher level of consciousness.
This could all be bullshit, how would I know? I just really liked the book and the ideas in it, and I think its important that anyone with half a brain read it…

In other news, I can’t wait to get home to Cape Cod. It’ll be nice to work and have money again, and see the hallway and eat at DJ’s and hopefully have a new found respect for the place.

Things I am Looking Forward To (updated)

I never ever thought I’d miss Cape Cod. When I left I was almost callous about it, I hated it so much. I didn’t bother to see any of my friends when I left, I didn’t go to any of my favorite places, I didn’t take the time to appreciate it for even a few seconds before we blew out of town, raising our middle fingers at the bridge as it disappeared in the rear view mirror.
My Mom told me once that she had lived in New England her whole life, and she had hated it. She hated the people, the weather, her job, and her crazy family. Then our family moved to Oregon for two years, and although it was a great place to live (I’d still like to live there one day) She was homesick the entire time and when we moved back to New England she returned with a newfound respect for it.
I don’t know yet whether this will happen to me, but I am looking forward to a few things, and to compliment my excitement over the impending move, I’d like to list them here:

-The Five Minute Hallway. A bizarre formation in the woods, like a tube made of tress that goes through the woods, straight as an arrow. Its me and Aimee’s special place and I miss it terribly. Its the first place I’m going when we get back.

-DJ’s. Best Wings on the planet I swear to god. Its our place.

Dinner with my parents. Since I’ve gotten married I’ve grown up enough to appreciate my parents and spending time with them.

Sounds of Summer. You know, crickets and june bugs, things like that. There are a few ponds near my old house and we get peepers too. I havent heard anything like that since we moved here. maybe because its too populated or too hot, i dont know.

The Farm. My old abandoned farm. Its not really MINE anymore, since the local asshead kids have been systematically destroying it over the last couple years.

Snake Pond. Yep, I dont care about the rumors that there is a glacier made of diapers floating at the bottom of it. Its got a snack bar.

Hyannis – Its nice that we’ll be living there, thus saving me the gas, but one of my favorite things to do, which i did every weekend, was put a good cd in the car and drive into hyannis. I’d always stop at the mobil station on the way and get an energy drink. Id take the backroads and sing along to whatever cd i’d chosen the whole way, then drive around looking for good music or movies or whatever. *sigh*

Sarku Japan. I used to drive all the way to hyannis just for the chicken teriyaki. love it.

Working. I miss making a reasonable amount of money. It was so great to have money in my pocket all the time, so if i say, broke the button off my pants, i’d jsut go buy another damn pair of pants. problem solved. I ate food because it tasted good, not because i could afford it. We could do things on the weekends. I never took advantage of this and I regret it. Wastefulness is dangerous, but there is more to life than penny pinching…

Winter! I usually hate winter but after spending 5 rainless months in California (or as I call it, the Devil’s asscrack) I can’t wait for a little variety in the weather. Of course New England takes the word “variety” and runs with it, but still…

Fall! I love the smell of fall, and it definitely smells the best in New England.

Hooded Sweatshirts – I love them and there is no reason to ever wear one in California.

Watching the field change. Me and Aimee like to go for walks around the field behind the farm/5 minute hallway. Its ncie when the seasons are changing its a little different everyday.

The base. Yep, i miss the airforce base.

The mall. I know, isnt that retarded? I loathe consumerism and trendy douchebags, but I love being at the mall. I miss playing Marvel Vs Capcom in the arcade all day, reading at barnes and noble, wating at sarku… *sigh*

I miss owning nice clothes, and I’ll be able to do that again soon enough…

Week’s Pond. Aimee and I had our first dates here. We would spread out a blanket and talk there for hours on end, even though it was october/november and it was deathly freezing.

Homeward Bound

Well, we’re out of money! Out of work, out of food, out of gas, even out of toilet paper. I called Shawn (my old boss) and he said he’d give me my old job back AND let us stay at his place while we get settled. Right now we’re selling what we can and waiting on a few paychecks. Also waiting to see how some apartment restrictions will pan out. If all goes well we’ll be gone in two weeks, at worst we’ll have to wait four weeks.
I’m so glad we’re finally getting out of here, I can’t believe it! Honestly I’d hitchhike back to the Cape if I had to. If we run out of gas, I’ll walk. Fuck it.

Sad…

So I’ve been keeping track of which of my posts get the highest ratings. WordPress has this great system that tracks how people actually got to your blog and if they came from a search engine what they had typed into the search engine. As it turns out, my all time highest blog featured the phrase “rape movie” which is precisely how everyone found it. 
This is somewhat depressing, but also interesting. So, I’m going to conduct a bit of an experiment. Below this line I’m going to type every depraved sex act, definition, body part and pornstar I can think of and see what happens to my Blog’s popularity. Feel free to peruse the list for your own amusement, even add a few of your own, but if you offend easily, I’d suggest just skipping this entry entirely.

And away we go:

rape movie, Boner, tits, pussy, rod, shaft, penis, dick, dong, hog, cock, balls, testicles, juggs, ass, anus, anal, butthole, cameltoe, panties, nipples, boobs, hummer, blowjob, bj, suck, lick, tongue, gag, fuck, fucking, sex, schoolgirl, cheerleader, jenna jameson, leah luv, ron jeremy, peter north, long dong silver, hooker, whore, slut, nympho, skank, BDSM, sado masochism, fetish, free porn, free porn movies, free porn download, free sex, hot teen, hot coeds, hot milf, hot gramma, hot for teacher, gangbang, orgy, track lighting, smoking jacket, perversion, forbidden sex, wet, juicy, cans, hot carl, angry dragon, dirty sanchez, cleveland steamer, doggystyle, piledriver, reverse cowgirl, union of the monkey, 69, feet, foot fetish, hairy fetish, smoking fetish, balloon fetish, beastiality, zoophilia, latex, buttplug, dildo, vibrator, masturbation, handcuffs, loonies, looners, furries, penetration, insertion, virgin, virginity, pee, pissing, piss, urine, ejaculation, squirt, squirting, cumming, gushing, man goo, semen, sperm, giz, facial, golden shower, clown porn, midgets, midget sex, amputee sex, bondage, torture, medical fetish, hentai and farting on cakes (yes thats a real thing)

Thats all I can think of. Now lets watch those ratings soar…

Blah Blah

I’ve decided to put The Devil’s Due on hold for a bit. I like the story a lot so far but I’ve gotten stuck on what to do next. The story itself needs to go one for quite a bit longer to resolve anything, and I feel like I’ve bit off more than I can chew for a first story. I’m hoping if I let it simmer for a bit I’ll be hit with some revelation that’ll let me know exactly what to do with it.

Not I’m jotting down ideas for other stories. I’d like to try something smaller. An interesting happening not a big elaborate tale about a boy outsmarting the devil. I figure I’ll get more out of the whole process that way.

I miss Aimee. She’s in Las Vegas for work. I like when she goes on business trips, the distance makes us appreciate each other more when she comes home. Not that we don’t appreciate each other, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, theres that.

The Devil’s Due, Continued

Well I’ve been working more on The Devil’s Due. I didn’t have much of a plan for the story to start with, which is sort of biting me in the ass. I am definitely getting somewhere, but since I planned nothing, the story tends to be pretty sloppy when I first get it down. Actually, it stays pretty sloppy through the second and third rewrite as well. I know that as I go on, this will get easier. Its really difficult to spot any of the problems I might if I were reading someone else’s work. (Why is it that you can read someone else’s work with such clarity, but reading your own stuff id like trying to proofread in a drunken fog? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?)

Not sure how I feel about the story of the Old Well. I like the story and it will play a part in the rest of this, but I wasn’t sure how it came out. Aimee said that it was repetitive,  and indeed she was right (mad as I may have been at her for saying it) The problem there was that I was trying to keep a monologue about an Old Well going, but running out of ways to say “the old well” and “no one”. Originally, the story came out something like this;
“Old well, well, well, old well, no one old well, no one no one no one no one no one no one no one, old well the well old well.”
I rewrote it, but as I didn’t realize the problem the first way through, I truly have no idea what to expect from it now.

As for the rest, well… I like it, but I haven’t rewritten it at all. I certainly labored over it for quite awhile, but I want to give it a few days before I go back to it. Give it some distance, hopefully I can see it a bit more clearly then. I just HAD to put it up here because I’m excited with where the story is going.

Anyway, before reading it, (if anyone reads it) please keep in mind that it is a fairly rough draft. Let me know if there are any errors or distracting repetition. (in the description of the thing I ran out of ways to say “it” “the thing” “the creature” and although I tried to keep it varied, I’m not sure how it will read to someone else and I’m not sure how to fix it exactly…

The Devil’s Due

So I’m finally going to post what I’ve been writing…
I’m nervous about it, since pretty much all the people who read this blog (all 5 or 6 of you) are actual writers, and I am just an inexperienced fledgling, playing with words in my spare time… I will say that I am very proud of what I’ve done so far. The story obviously isn’t finished yet, but these 5 pages are by no means finished either. I’ve rewritten them a a bit so they’d be presentable enough to put in public, but I imagine I’ll rewrite it a hundred times before I can really call it finished.
Anyway, this is the first time I’ve ever really tried to write anything. I’ve bought countless brand new notebooks in the past, telling myself I’d start writing, and up until this week, I’ve never done it. I don’t know what exactly set the fire this time around, but I’ve written a page a day for five days, and it has been the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Writing is unbelievably difficult, but the finished result, even in it’s unpolished (and somewhat embarrassing) form, makes me feel terrific.

The areas I had the most trouble with (feel free to offer advice) were:

- Writing an exchange of dialogue is difficult. Its hard to say who is talking to who without describing every little action and who is facing who and who turns towards who etc etc and making the whole thing very cumbersome, or even repetitive. (How many ways can you tell a character to facer someone. Tom turned to, tom met ___’s gaze, tom faced ____ etc etc etc

- Giving padding to a scene. I never have enough material to keep characters in a room for more than a page, maybe two. I know this is a short story, but still.

- Sometimes there is too much to describe. I can see what I want to happen in my head, but describing all of it would take you miles away from the plot and by the time you get back you’d most likely have forgotten what was going on.

- When to put a break. Do you have to divide action and dialogue. Should the format be:
“Dialogue” character action “Dialogue” Character action etc etc

or:

“Dialogue”
Character action
“Dialogue”

On a similar note, you’ll notice when I have a character answering another I’ll write it as so:
“well” he said, blah blah blah “rest of the dialogue goes in here”
I do this because I think if i write all the character’s dialogue before IMMEDIATELY declaring who it is and what they’re doing, that the reader won’t know who it is either. But it feels stupid to constantly follow the same template with every paragraph. On the same level, I don’t want to just do
“dialogue”
“dialogue”
“dialogue”
because its so easy to get lost.

Anyway, I made another “Page” so you wouldn’t have to scroll through a mile long post if you didn’t feel like reading the story. The link is here:   http://infernalcthulhu.wordpress.com/the-devils-due/ (or click “The Devil’s Due” in the box under my About section.)

It is awfully difficult to spot any inconsistencies or difficult-to-read passages when its your own story, so if anyone notices anything, please let me know, I’ll try to be tough about it, lol.

http://infernalcthulhu.wordpress.com/the-devils-due/

Hm…

wouldn’t it be great if there was a website where you could look up curious dialect from around the world, or even a particular era? What I really need is an old timey clever way of saying that its damn hot outside. You know, something smart alecky southern twang, like an idiot trying to imitate Bagger Vance might say.
“Nice shot, suh. I reckon that ball would thank you for the ride if it could, suh.”
Like that. but about the weather. not golf balls.

A Sad Song

A Sad Song

Posted in Uncategorized on August 2, 2008 by infernalcthulhu

Wendy Posted a blog asking for everyone’s pick for an all time favorite makes me cry every time song. I liked the post because, although I’m not too weepy of a guy, I have been a fairly depressed/somber sort of guy most of my life, so I’ve spent a lot of time listening to that sort of stuff… I think that music can be really amazing and touching, if you have an ear for the songs that matter. (This is why I hate people who just LOVE Nickelback or Maroon 5.)

Although I wasn’t tagged, I’m going to write a little post, chronicling what I think are the greatest make-me-cry songs I’ve ever heard. I think the songs that hit the hardest are the simple, little songs. Right now I’m really liking a song I just discovered. I’s surprised since I loathe all things emo, but despite the somewhat whiny vocals, the song is really good and of course features a video with bunnies that kills me every time I watch it. Anyway, here it is;

Death Cab For Cutie – “I Will Follow You Into The Dark”

Did you watch until the end? If you didn’t watch to the end then it doesn’t have the same feeling!

One of the most devastating songs I’ve ever heard is one by Mark Lanegan called Strange Religion. Mark Lanegan is one of my favorite musicians because he is also a pretty dark and morose kind of guy, but he just takes all that and makes it really beautiful. Some parts of my condition (yes it is a condition, although I hate calling it that) make life really difficult, but some parts of depression are so beautiful, and most people don’t see things the same way, its like they’re missing out. I don’t think I’d ever cure it if I could, but it’d be nice to turn the volume down a little…
Anyway, Strange Religion is a song I was listening to when Aimee and I were broken up after the wonderful winter we spent together. Its not that we broke up, but we were playing the “we’re not dating” game all winter, and then I got into a college and decided it’d be too hard to keep it going if I was just going to leave. Despite the fact that our little romance really only lasted 2 months (it felt like an eternity, in the good way. It really astonishes me when I think back to those days and realize it only lasted through October and November) The second Aimee wasn’t in my life, she was all I could think about. I felt like the living dead, like someone else was pulling my strings and making my body drift to work every morning. I couldn’t believe that such a brief romance had had such a huge impact on my life. I felt like she took one of my arms with her. I spent pretty much every day off I had driving aimlessly around, listening to music. When you’re really depressed, especially about one thing in particular, music means everything. This one song broke me down every time I listened to it, and it still does.

Lastly I’d like to mention a fantastic song called “The Trapeze Swinger” by Iron and Wine. I think that this is the end all beat all hands down number one saddest song that was ever written. It just destroys me every time and if you ignore the rest of this blog then you should at the very least listen to that one, or read it’s lyrics. Its another sweet and simple acoustic piece, much like the deathcab one listed above, but the lyrics are just heart breaking. I’m going to post my sad sack playlist next, and the lyrics to the Trapeze Swinger to finish off the blog… Thats it, I hope one of you gets something out of this, these songs hold a strong place in my heart…

(Sidenote, playlist.com playlists cannot be posted on wordpress, so i’ll have to post these tacky music video slideshows…)

Mark Lanegan – Strange Religion

 

Iron And Wine – The Trapeze Swinger

—-HONORABLE MENTIONS!!—-
how could I not post a few more?

Nick Drake – Place To Be
The footage in this video is Nick Drake’s home movies. He was a very reclusive man and only a few photos of him exist. (The ones you’ll see in the video are the only ones) I can’t believe this footage actually exists.

 

Gary Jules- Mad World
The Donnie Darko song. This song almost killed me, and embodied one of the darkest periods of my life. I don’t know how I feel about sharing that with people who don’t really know me, but there it is. Its an amazing song, a perfect song.

Please, remember me, happily,
by the rosebush laughing
with bruises on my chin, the time when
we counted every black car passing
your house beneath the hill, and up until
someone caught us in the kitchen
with maps, a mountain range, a piggy bank
a vision too removed to mention

But please remember me, fondly,
i heard from someone you’re still pretty
and then they went on to say that the Pearly Gates
have such eloquent graffiti
like: “we’ll meet again” and “fuck the Man”
and “tell my mother not to worry”
and angels with their great handshakes
but always done in such a hurry

and please remember me, at Halloween
making fools of all the neighbors
our faces painted white, by midnight
we’d forgotten one another
and when the morning came I was ashamed
only now it seems so silly
that season left the world and then returned
and now you’re lit up by the city

so please remember me, mistakenly
in the window of the tallest tower
call, then pass us by, but much too high
to see the empty road at happy hour
gleam and resonate just like the gates
around the Holy Kingdom
with words like: “lost and found” and “don’t look down”
and “someone save temptation”

and please remember me, as in the dream
we had as rug-burned babies
among the fallen trees and fast asleep
beside the lions and the ladies
that called you what you like and even might
give a gift for your behavior:
a fleeting chance to see a trapeze-
swinger high as any savior

and please remember me, my misery
and how it lost me all i wanted
those dogs that love the rain, and chasin’ trains
the colored birds above there runnin’
in circles round the well, and where it spells
on the wall behind St. Peter
so bright on cinder gray in spray paint:
“who the hell can see forever?”

and please remember me, seldomly
in the car behind the carnival
my hand between your knees, you turn from me
and said the trapeze act was wonderful
but never meant to last, the clowns that passed
saw me just come up with anger
when it filled with circus dogs, the parking lot
had an element of danger

so please remember me, finally
and all my uphill clawing
my dear, but if i make the Pearly Gates
i’ll do my best to make a drawing
of God and Lucifer, a boy and girl
an angel kissin’ on a sinner
a monkey and a man, a marching band
all around the frightened trapeze-swinger