The City of Edgrr
A look into the mind of a perfectly mundane guy.
Archive for the category “Shenanigans”
Snip-Bit
“She has this tendency to curl up in a ball when she goes to bed, as the night progresses though, she slowly begins to spread; her limbs marching outward on a quest for complete dominion of the mattress”.
Oh, the woes/charms of sharing a bed.
Old Journal Entries
So, as the title implies, everything I’m going to post up is little tid-bits of stuff that I found in one of my old notebooks that dates back to September 2011. I have no idea what they’re about (mostly) so yeah, thought you guys would find some of it interesting, funny, etc. Here it is…
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(Some dream I had…apparently)
I’m in a dream. I know I am. I’m in a massive building, a palace of sorts, adorned with all sorts of fancy art, and pointy-Gothic shenanigans. I step into a grand hall, on the opposite end there sits a great beast. His breath billowing out from his massive nostrils. He’s clad in armor so I can’t tell exactly what he is, I just know that I’m scared. In his hands he holds a spiked mace. He starts swinging it madly, hitting everything around him as he starts running towards me. A mass of muscle and iron and death. As he nears me I hear him yelling something out, at first I can’t make it out, each step he takes makes the words clearer. He’s yelling out “Te odio, te odio, te odio!” which, takes me a second to realize, is Spanish for “I hate you”. What I fail to notice is that each step that he takes, every inch that he gets closer to me, he grows taller, wider. By the time he’s in front of me there’s no where I can run to, his body encompassing the whole room. He stops and looks down at me, he draws in a deep breath and says once more “Te odio” before he brings down his mace on me. I wake up.
(Some quote I thought was nice)
“‘Pretty’ is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is in the soul. You don’t see it, you feel it.”
(Something I started to write while stuck inside)
Being stuck at home on a stormy day is comparable to spending a day in prison, with the exception of being made someone’s bitch that is…With this tropical storm forcing everyone to stay inside today, I feel like a prisoner in my own home.
(Something I wrote while I was high—about being high)
I’m high right now! So high and alone! By far one of my better “alone” highs. All I’m doing is sitting here listening to some tunes while looking at the music player visualizer. Everything is much more beautiful when you’re high, even silence and solitude. I don’t mind it.
(No idea what this is…)
When you first step into the room you are blasted by the potent smell of incense. As you walk further past the door you notice the large windows on the far wall. One window looks out into a bustling street and the other, somehow—by some tear in time and space, looks out to a serene mountain range.
You turn and look to the surrounding walls. You can’t actually see the walls under all the papers and posters pinned up on them. Everything from notebook papers with the beginnings and endings of countless different stories written on them, sticky notes with funny little somethings scribbled on them. Beside those hang little mementos, snapshots of a past long forgotten and abandoned.
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It’s always fun going back to a notebook you haven’t picked up in years and reading back some of the stuff you wrote…
It makes me wonder what was going through my head at the time when I wrote them. Makes me want to remember what kind of person I was back then, what version of me I was…but I can’t tell just from those little bits. Oh well..
Self-deprecation
I’ve been told that I do it a lot. I like to make people laugh and that’s just one of the forms that takes. It’s a way to make people feel comfortable and make yourself seem cognizant of yourself.
Aside from that, it has its personal uses too. I’m not exactly what you’d call “confident”, I’m terribly insecure about things, mainly where I am in life and where I’m going. Self-deprecation helps me to stay just unhappy enough with my current situation in life so that I don’t get too comfortable and begin to settle. The things I dream of when I’m alone and my mind drifts off in to the “what could be” section of my brain, I’ll compare it to where I’m now and that’s what keeps me going.
Sure, it doesn’t sound like the healthiest way to keep yourself motivated it; and I’m sure it’s not. But it works. At least, it’s been working for me. I’m not saying you should do it too, I just thought I’d share.
Walking to work…
I realized that we all too often, once we’ve settled into our daily routines (work, school, etc.), we walk through life as if we had blinders on. We absent-mindedly dismiss things around us, ignore people as they walk past us. We suffer from tunnel vision in its worst stage. All we can see is the day we’re in and the day that immediately follows along with all the miseries it brings.
We, without realizing it, allow the better parts of life pass us by as we concentrate on the unimportant things (spiritually unimportant). We no longer appreciate the beautiful things, life stops being an adventure and it turns into a routine. A blocked-out schedule that you fear to deviate from or tell yourself you’re too tired to go outside of.
Each day a little part of us disappears into the void that is a full-time job. Making us dread life just a bit more each day.
Of course, by we/us I really mean me.
“The past should stay dead”
Those are the words etched on my right arm. I sometimes forget that they’re there, only noticing them when I have moment to myself in front of a mirror. I think back to when I got the tattoo all those years ago, the reason I got it seems silly to me now…but the words themselves still hold true to me.
Some have told me that the statement itself is incorrect. That the past never really dies, and that we always have to look at our past if we want to know where the future will take us. I suppose all of that is true, in a sense. After all, we’re all monuments built from our past—each year a small, new addition to the monument goes up, unnoticed. However, I still feel like the tattoo is right, and that it’s the right way to lead life.
You should look to the future and all the new, wonderful adventures it’ll bring you instead of wallowing in the misfortunes of your past. That’s how I see it, and that’s whats helped me get through some rough bumps in my life—always inadvertently though. Like I said, I always forget that the words are there, I always forget that truth that’s right in front of me constantly. Somehow it always comes to me when I’m defeated, when I’ve resolved that there’s no way out. I see the words and I immediately remember…”that’s right”.
“Not quite night”
This was my view as I walked back to my car this morning from the girlfriend’s place. It was roughly around 5:45am, the city and its inhabitants were stirring from their slumber but neither was completely up yet.
I love the look and the feel of the city right around this time. I’m not a big fan of crowds–but I love the vastness of cities and everything they hold! So, this is the perfect time for me to roam, while everyone’s still asleep; while the beast still lays dormant before the start of the day.
There’s a certain quiet that encapsulates the city, it’s not a complete-quiet mind you–it’s the city after all. But this quiet, it’s rare, and you can really only experience it around that time. It’s serene…makes me wish it was 5:45am all the time.
Free writing (to Music)
6/27/13 1:06am EST
An unending symphony in my head, the stream that constantly trickles from my brain. It’s all about forming the chaotic into order, making sense of the babble that my conscious brings up from its depths…that’s what writing is about. At least that’s how it feels like.
For instance, right now I’m writing without thinking about what I’m writing. Usually I find that terribly difficult to do considering the fact that I always try to give everything I write some sort of meaning—this is new to me.
Listening to music makes it even better…the activity in my brain that is. Words and ideas start to clump themselves into groups depending on the tempo of the music, on the lyrics of the song.
The song is changing now…
I feel a change coming…
It’s building…
Here it comes…
And…
Now!
It’s a remix of a song that I already, I like the beat. It makes me think of a young lad, someone trying to get his life together—he’s trying to get out on his own and decide what it is that he wants to do with his life. He’s sitting on a train with his headphones on, listening to the same song that I’m listening to now. He’s on his way to a job interview for a job that he doesn’t particularly want as much as he needs. His shitty, one-bedroom apartment needs to be paid for, and landlords are not easily reasoned with in the North End of Boston.
What he really wants to do with his life is be a great writer, however, he feels like he lacks the drive to really take his writing anywhere beside his desk drawer. He’s afraid of letting people read his material in the chance that they won’t like it or that they’ll confirm what he’s always been afraid of—that he’s no good as a writer. All of it would have been a waste if he wasn’t meant to be a writer. He would have been a waste.
Wait…
New song now…
A little bit more upbeat than the last, I think…
Lets see…
Here we go!
I’m thinking of a girl getting up in the morning, she’s single but she doesn’t mind it. She rises from bed in just her undies, her cat still sleeping at the foot of her bed. She heads into the kitchen, an odd spring in her step despite the fact that it’s absurdly early. The sun has only just begun to come out but her coffee is already made and the pancake-mix is already getting poured onto the skillet.
She’s happy today, the night before she got to go out with her dream guy—at least that’s what she wanted him to be. He was Mr. right in every way she could imagine. He had a smile that made her melt, he liked all the same geeky-shows that she did, and he wasn’t allergic to cats. As far as she was concerned this was the man she was going to marry. However, she had to convince him of the matrimony still.
She shook her hips as she flipped the pancakes over on either side. She didn’t know what to do with herself, she was just so elated.
Hold on now…
Change of music…
This one’s a bit different as well…
Seems like another remix of a well-known song…
Here goes nothing!
A small boy plays in his yard under a great, big oak tree. He has action figures and toy cars, and planes all around him. He puts one of the action figures on top of one the toy planes and makes believe that it’s him riding atop of the plane. He takes off into the not-so-far-off blue, the action figure’s plastic arms waving in the air. The boy spins around at breakneck speeds, fascinated with the idea of traveling faster than sound. He makes engine noises with his mouth as he spins, churning the world around him into nothing more than a spill of colors. He spins and spins so fast that soon the plane and action figure become blurs themselves.
When the world comes back into focus there is now longer an action figure and a toy plane. There is only the control board of an actual fighter jet. The boy is now truly the pilot and he sits atop his own jet engine. Where before he dreamed about traveling beyond the speed of sound he now dreams of traveling faster than light.
When the Zombies Come
Brraaaiinns!
With the season three premiere of The Walking Dead two weeks ago the air has been filled with zombie buzz. The show has captivated viewers with its take on the zombie apocalypse and its riveting characters who we all come back, week after week, to check up on. It’s truly a great show, capturing the terror of living in constant fear and the drama that comes when living with complete strangers and moreover, having to rely on said strangers to keep you alive.
During last week’s episode my girlfriend and I sat on the couch discussing zombie-survival tactics. We talked about what we’d do if for some reason the dead really did come back to feed on the flesh of the living. My girlfriend kept going on about how freaked out she’d be which got me thinking—“would I have her in my survival group in a real-life scenario?” I couldn’t come up with an answer right away, she’s my girlfriend and of course I love her and all, but if suddenly things got real, would I let her tag along?
“No” was the answer that I ended up giving her, once she had figured out what I was thinking about and asked me herself. Needless to say she was upset. I tried to reason with her and have her see it from my point of view. She’s the kind of girl who when she sees a spider on the wall, 15 feet away she yells out “spider!” and doesn’t shut up about it until someone’s done something about it. If she did that with a zombie, it could mean the end of me. I told her that I felt like I’d have to be rescuing her from walkers every ten minutes.
“Then who would you bring along then?” she asked me, which led to another long silence spent in thought. I looked around to my mom and my little brother, the Rick in me told me to stick with them and protect them while the Shane in me was slightly more cold and calculating.
Ideally, I told her, I would want my survival group to be two to three people at the most. It’d have to be people I knew well enough to trust already, perhaps two of my friends. I’d have to know that they’d be able to handle themselves in tough situations and that they had good stamina. With a larger group food would become an issue a lot quicker than in a small group. Also, when we had to stop for the night we would take less time to get set up and put up a perimeter. Not to mention that with a small group we’d be able to move around a lot quicker and quieter than with a group of eight or ten people.
“It would all depend on the situation” I resolved. If the zombie apocalypse happened right that second while we were sitting at home than I would sit tight with the people I was with at the moment. I wouldn’t go out and abandon them, which would also serve to keep me safe from that initial wave of panic that would hit the masses, causing a lot of needless, accidental deaths. If I were say, at work, when the apocalypse started would I try to get back to my family? I say that I’m not sure but despite what the Shane in me would say I feel like I would still make a conscious effort to get back to them and make sure they’d be safe. And I suppose I’d even let my girlfriend come-with too so I know she’d be safe.
In the end I realized that despite however survival-minded you might be you always have that urge to “protect your own”. It might just be me though, who knows? What would you guys do? Would you rather be with your family during the zombie apocalypse, with the knowledge that they are not properly equipped physically and mentally to deal with the situation and ultimately endangering themselves and you? Or would you rather be with a small group who know what they’re doing but at the same time you would have to live with the knowledge that you had forsaken your entire family and everyone you knew and loved? It’s a tough decision that we’ll most likely never have to make *fingers crossed*
The City of Edgrr 