HEY!
Did you go to knowlton haunted house?
Did you step on someone?

That was probably me!

I was the guy who poured 2 pints or something like that of fake blood on himself and would dive out of a bathroom at peoples' feet! It was fun, but my knees are red and missing skin, my favorite pants are in bad shape (both knees torn out), and my elbows are raw(ish). Here are some stats:

Time stepped on: 10(?)
Times kicked in the face: 4-5
People scared: a whole fucking lot

That last part makes it all worth it. After the haunted house i ran into some people that i didn't know how i would react to...it turns out i did well. this could be based partly on the fact that I was completely exhausted, but also part on the fact that at that point in the evening, I didn't care about anything that existed, just people, and deep down, i like these people...vague, eh?

But it was fun. I'm aching and sore...dunkin donuts is our new home, as the guy there gives us discounts based on the fact that we give him a big tip, which makes sense...the money we save can easily be put towards people, and then they keep the cheap stuff coming. A great, yet viscious cycle.

So on 3 hours of sleep I helped set up a haunted house, went shopping, played squash, leapt out of a room flat onto my face for 2.5 hours, and finally talked to people that i like but am sort of ackward (awckward?) around.

A long, but good day.

Tomorrow, I bring out Sportacus, Steph, and Robbie Rotten.
Hopefully there will be pictures.

-ccm
(now with 100% less blood covering his body)

So recently I've just lost the urge to write. It's a sad thing. Before I had so much to say, but now I lack that sort of inner splendor that would let me bloviate so profusely upon this ephemeral page.

But life is normal now, more than before. I need to get back on track, but things are slow. I'm typing at the edge of my seat right now. Tonight I went to a casino, with the intent of drinking. I had a guiness at the dubliner and a slippery nipple at Lucky's. I love that place. It's classy, yet not. We were sitting at a table, the kind of table where you expect to see low lives sit at in movies. We craved smoking implements like cigars and cigs, and we talked about all sorts of things that did not matter. There was rap from the mid 90s in the background, and we partly sang along with the tunes, reminded of years past.

Brian almost lost his ring, but we saw it just in time to save it.

I went to the cash window and there was a woman with long black hair there. She reminded me of Esther, my brother's former ladyfriend, her hair looking wet. I cashed 5 dollars into quarters, and boyishly took my bounty to the machines. I walked around for a while, trying to feel something. I felt it from one machine, not the corner, but one machine in. The machine was mine, a slot machine, one arm, a row of buttons. I sat down, and dropped a quarter in.

Nothing.

I sat for a second and thought. While thinking, I continued to drop more quarters in. Single shots, one at a time. Nothing was happening.

Was I cursed?

I thought back to my slot machine. In my basement, thanks to an auction, my family has a slot machine. It is from Osaka, I believe, and is a lot of fun to play with. I learned something from it. The more money you put in, initially, the greater your chances of winning. This seems to be based on the idea that if you win early, you'll keep playing, paying at a high rate. The casino makes more money out of its initial investment in you than you will out of them.

Simple, eh?

So I dropped 3 in at a time. Nothing. I did it again.

Ring ring ring, 7 7 7, red white and green. My Italian heart swelled with pride. My family must be dancing right now...

On a 5 dollar investment I earned back 33. Not bad for 3 minutes work.

I came back to the young lady, the nice one with the wet looking hair, and I had a bucket of quarters.

"That was quick"

I left with all the money that I won.

-ccm

Well, the war is subsiding. I got an apology, and now my anger is slightly sated. I think that's a word, the one I want. I mean, the point is that now life can sort of go on, to a degree.

I still have emotions running through me like nobody's biz, but man, it may be the lack of sleep, but i'm tired.

So here I go, on the adventure of life...not really sure exactly what to expect

i do want to go snowboarding though.

-ccm

It's 9 am, and I have an art history exam.
I am scared of this. Very scared.

Traditionally, when I have taken tests in the past few years I've done fairly bad on them. Why? Because I don't think that I really take tests anymore, so the limited time and the format throws me. Not a good person under pressure, which is a lie, but when it comes to tests, it's true. I perform best when I can sit around and think to the best of my abilities.

The other thing that I don't like is the rote memorization of facts. Where's the fun in just saying back a bunch of numbers and words? Writing a paper is so much more fun, it's not even funny.

I have a poptart, a glass of water, my classnotes, and my browser pointed to the online study guide.

It's go time.

-ccm

My feet have recently become tough.

Docs are great shoes, but for some reason they always chew up my feet. I've been wearing them pretty constantly for the past few weeks, ie: everyday, all the time. The result has been that portions of my feet have been worn away, and replaced with rough patches. Amazing that after all those years of skating and all the abuse that comes with that, that this hasn't happened before.

Knew a girl that hated feet. Really, they're not that bad. Unless you're Uma Thurman.

On another note, we had a surprise party for Nat last night. Think it went really really well. It started nicely, and by the end of the evening people were drunk off their asses, or as I just thought in my head, "orf their arses." My personal highlights include the trip to Wendy's with Tim at the wheel (sober). We ordered an ungodly amount of food, and it was just great. The usual watching of people was tons of fun. My favorite moment had to be the run across campus. I had convinced Piya to come to the party, which was great. I decided that instead of meeting her at the traffic light on RT. 32, that I would go up to her room and say hi, and walk her down. Bad idea. Like ships in the night, we passed. I got to her room, then realizing my folly ran from Larabee down to the apartment, which is not the best idea when you are intoxicated and wearing a heavy sweater and a suede jacket. Lots of heat.

On the bright side, I was able to make the run pretty well.

Have you ever just stopped what you are doing and stared, at nothing at all, but at a point on the wall? It's a sort of interesting moment: your mind goes blank, and you just contemplate the spot for a moment, or not even that. You just stop. It is as if you are starting over. You just blank out for a second. In that moment you are completely vulnerable, alomst an empty husk of a man, just sitting there not even looking at anything. It's interesting, to say the least, if a little worrysome.

"When she walks
she swings her arms
instead of her hips
when she talks
she moves her mout
instead of her lips"

I wonder if I could hang on?

Let me go
she said


Cake is not always that easy, but by god it is great music. Life is going on. Maybe in the coming week i'll stop being such a dick, and I will get back to life, proper. I'm not saying that I'm going to be the best person to be around in the world, but I'm going to perhaps be reasonable. This is translating to something, but I'm not overly sure yet. Rationality has been my strong and weak point for a long time. I can be really rational, but then irrational when I get emotionally attatched to a situation. It's the Italian in me, the Esposito, to be specific. Something has got to give, the center cannot hold, and all of that, and when it gives, life will start, renewed.

Until then though, I've got some living to do, in the old vein.

-ccm

(lyrics by cake, though i'm listening to the cardigans right now.)

more lyrics i like:
So where did you see me go
It's not the right way, you know
Where did you see me go
No, it's not that I don't know
I just don't want it to grow
It's not that I don't know

I've changed my mind I take it back
Erase and rewind'
Cause I've been changing my mind

(cardigans)

So I realized recently that in that "I don't know you" sort of way, I loved that girl. In that way that one forms relationships with notions, I was deeply in love with her. The idea of her. That's what's hurting so much. What's hurting so much is that from what I was seeing, the idea wasn't that far off from the truth.

But that's stupid.

I'm at a point where I need to get shit straight. It's almost like I don't have time to be down. I'm behind on my thesis, on so many things, and I need to get on the ball. I need to get my shit together, and I need to get going. I need so many things right now, but the thing that I really need is just unknown.

What I need is something that feels right. I need that thing that will make me stop being sad, or angry, or anything extreme. I'm outstaying my welcome, I think, but I don't know. That's not really true in a realistic sense, but more in my own mind. I feel like I need to move on, to just get my life going again. I fell in love with an idea, and there's nothing I can do to change reality.

Life is like the movies, lite.

Broke into the Arbo tonight with Max, Elly, Tim, Josh, and Luthy. Thing is, Luthy is such a mountain of a man that he could not fit between the bars. Sorry big guy. In the darkness and in the woods we found a rock. The rock sat close to the shore, and we all bloviated upon it. Looking up at the stars was nice. I thought of the man I used to be, the one that would gaze romantically at the sky, wondering if love is out there. I thought about how I missed that. I wondered about the man that I am now, and really, if I am a man.

When did I grow up? I guess I never really was that young.

Fun was had though. Blinding people with cell phones, avoiding the cops, illegal activities galore. Fun was had, and it was a good night, even if Boston did win over NY. I can't say that I'm that upset. The Red Sox aren't the Bruins, so I can root for the underdog a tiny bit, deep inside. After all, as a Ranger fan, I can empathize with having a curse on your team, and not winning a championship in a long time (it was 54 years for the Rangers. The curse came when they burned the lease on MSG in the Stanley Cup. Since that win, they never won a cup until 1994). It would just be odd if they won the Series. Very odd.

Well, I remain often angry and depressed, with moments of sunshine. Don't know where life is going, but I'm along for the ride, and maybe I'll see that romantic me hitchhiking on the side of the road. Maybe I'll pick him up, and maybe we'll ride off into the sunset together. Hopefully there will be someone wonderful waiting for me in that sunset, and maybe we can all live together happily.

Congrats to Pat and Becky. You know why.

"And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE"

-ccm

(lyrics from the Talking Heads)

In a quick little post, I would like to say that I absolutely love being on the radio. It's just about the best thing ever, and man, I want to be doing it all the time. I've been training with other Chris, and I would say we have pretty good chemistry on the air, which to me translates to having a good time, which hopefully is a good show. The important thing is that it is ridiculously fun to do, and I really kind of always want to be doing it.

Here's to the Radio, and alleviating stress, though not all of it, not by a long shot...

-ccm

The Reality of Life.

Today was the worst day of my college career and the absolute best. It turns out that the cockblocking had worked, and Phil had established himself as a force in the life of Sarah. She, being a freethinking sort, took a liking to the outlandish personality that is Phil, and thus they may start dating, or something like it. Needless to say, I was not happy with this turn of events, as I've like this girl for quite a while.

In fact, I went through an entire roll of Tums today.
Hate those things.

So Phil denies responsibility for anything, which on the front of Sarah, is true. He cannot make a person feel a certain way, but the thing that he did do was agitate the situation. Rather than letting me run my course, he interjected himself, and in all honesty, that is what did it. She made the choice, but he ruined my chances.

Today I was so irate that I scared people. If you have known me for any stretch of time at all, you know that I tend to keep my cool, for the most part, at least at school...but anywho, today I lost it. Or I should say I kept it a little too well. I never yelled at Phil, never loudly, but inside, where the acid was bubbling, my anger was boiling. At dinner I sat across from the fiend, and I stared through him. People were amazed at the blatant anger in my face and body. My back was straight, my jaw square. For the few that have ever seen me angry, they know that I am possibly the least pleasant person to be around. That was kept inside, but the message was sent: a single word, and you, my "friend", are dead.

I cooled off some. Was sort of numb and tired. I went to Cro with Josh and Jonny Fong. It was during this that I began to realize something. People love me. The collective Js were there for me, supporting me and getting me through this. Zach West was there earlier, as well as Tim and Elly. They were coming out of the woodwork. Pete was my man throughout as well...people I didn't even know were there. Ryan Kelly came out in full support of me, and really made me see something that I was missing.

You see, while I may have potentially lost a girl, one that I care about in an irrational way, I gained perspective. I saw that there are a bunch of people who I know, a bunch of friends that saw me in need, and they gave me support. They showed a love for me which really shocked me and just made me smile. I had just had my heart torn asunder, and I was smiling. These guys put aside things that they had to do to show me a good time, and for that, I am eternally thankful.

Hell, I even saw Piya! I never get to see her, even though she is uber cool and we should hang out more...(hint)

There were 2 things that really clinched this night for me, aside from the love of my friends. One was a message from my mother, about how she made a dinner I liked, but she realized that I wasn't there. That made me think that I should talk to her more, and of the love and affection that is there. The other thing caught me totally of guard. When I walked into my room, I sense that there was something wrong. A gut feeling. I crept over to my light, and with a flick, illuminated the space.

It was a note:

Dear CCMAS,
I know that today was not cool. I wish it could have gone exactly how you wanted. I hope that tomorrow is better, but if it's not...I'm right across the hall.
Goodnight,
Natalie

And with that, I felt all warm. I'm going to sleep well, with hopes and dreams to come, full of promise, and not thinking of anything but love.

Here's to Chris Mastellone and his future endeavours!

-ccm

ps. Jonny, you are awesome, contrary to previous posts

(song lyrics:
I know you deceived me, couldn't sleep last night
Now my tear stains on the wall reflect an ugly sight
I can see your secrets
No need to confess
Everyone looks naked when you know the world's address

The world's address
A place that's worn
A sad pun that reflects a sadder mess
I'll repeat it for those who may not have already guessed
The world's address
-"The World's Address", They Might Be Giants)

Et tu Brute?

It may be preemptive, but I get the very strong feeling that a friend of mine is going behind my back to try and undermine something that I have been trying to do for a while. Phil. Stop it. Please.

Phil is a nice guy. He can be really sweet sometimes, and fun, but he has a habit of trying to steal the spotlight, and in particular just steal. It is not something I really want to do, but I am, at this moment, possibly the most revved up and angry I have been in a while. Why? Because of betrayal, or the specter of it.

To a college student, a man in any setting, there is a slang term called cockblocking. It is the notion that one man sees a woman he likes, and decides to make a move towards her. Cockblocking occurs when someone else comes in and thwarts the original sir's efforts. This happened to me numerous times in the past few days. Phil knows that I like this girl, and that I have been trying to work up the will to talk to her, and yet he kept moving in and talking to her, which in itself is not harmless. The harm is caused when I finally do work up the gumption, and have a 1 on 1 conversation with the girl, and he is there, over my shoulder, interjecting himself.

I am not one to point fingers, in fact I hate making people feel bad, making anyone feel bad. It is one of my flaws. I gave the man the benefit of the doubt, numerous times. There is a point where even the fool becomes wise, and all the denial in the world won't help.

Phil was cockblocking.

As much as I did not want to think about it, at all, to think that he may be undermining me, it was there, in front of my eyes. He would always be around her. He would put the blame on me for not interjecting into their conversation, about not making myself appear bigger. This man knows damn well that that is not in my character, that I will not interrupt people talking. That I could live with though...if he didn't know that I liked this girl, but alas, he did, and yet he would keep at it. He made himself the big man, and even with 8 other people telling him, he would not back down. He is very bad at helping a friend.

There may be a reason that he's so bad.

I don't care if fate leads two people together, that happens. I don't care if i like a girl and someone goes with her because they didn't know. I despise "claiming" people. Saying that a girl is yours, and that no one can talk to her. That stuff is just sexist and stupid. There is a difference, however, with making your motives known to your friends, and then having one of them come and slap you in the face. That' not cool.


(i wrote that last night, before anything happened really. It was a draft, but I'm posting it anyway...it was the first draft I've ever withheld, and honestly that sort of self censoring shit is not what I am about at all)

-ccm

I wonder, i ponder, whether this thing will come back and bite me in the ass?

To think that I am being too open, putting it all out there, to think that it may come around...

feel like a dick for being a dick, for being an ass, for all of that stuff.

Uninspired crap flowing out, feeling quite muddled, lacking any sort of paragraph form at all.

To be blunt, i think of things, thing of which i am thinking, but then the thought goes away, it is fleeting, but the spelling is all wrong, and to be honest i feel like a very stupid man a lot of times in conversation, but then i think that there are times when everyone out there is just as stupid as I am, and that is the first I that was capitalized....

totally writing this like a stream.

I miss the days when i would make a scene everyday, but now i feel lazy, a bit too laze at times, but generally lazy. Been in a daze for a bit, and I haven't had any good story ideas. No plays, no sonnets, no spears a shakin'. Nothing. Been dry like a mummy, except I'm not sure if i'm going to come back and terrorize england. I am just there, a dried husk, hoping for a strong breeze to blow me away.

But in other news, life's really pretty nice right now. Had a few good meals with a few good friends, enjoyed it very much. The order of eating was: pasta, stew, lasagna, and finally, thanks to josh, stirfry. It was all very good, and very awesome. Partied a lot with my close friends, and it felt really good. Silly things happened, peach schnapps was consumed, and it was fun. Just pure fun. There is no other thought that needs to be put into that.

Not thinking once in a while is really nice, takes the edge off. Then again so does codine, or however that is spelled.

But where I am right now is confused, very confused because I am standing on the edge of an abyss. I don't know whether I should jump or just keep staring. I feel like if I don't jump i'll be on the edge forever, but if I do jump, i may keep falling. The fall would not be so bad. You always have to land, and when I would land I would dust myself off, reset my spine, and try again, jumping into another giant hole. The darkness would consume me, the gaping maw, and the process would repeat. It will repeat until I die.

Death.

That's something you can't avoid, and I've talked about it at length. It's the greatest thing on earth and the thereafter. Everyone does it, and there's no escaping it. We all fear it, to a degree, though we may put on a brave face. We all KNOW that we will die. That's what's amazing. It's one of those few tidbits of shared identity that we all have. It's for everyone. Rich or poor, young or old. We all will do it. I made a joking toast at a dinner, that I want a swift death for everyone. When I think about it now, I think that's the kindest thing that I can offer people. To go on, to end it in an instant is a godsend (if that existed). To be able to shrug off the most important and profound thing that there will EVER be is just so powerful. To be able to just turn off, forever, without pain, is something that I want the people I love to have. No panic, no fear. Just a blink, and then it's done. I want them to fade without pain.

I would like to forgive the pains which I have caused, they are many, and I apologize.

I really love all the people I know, and am way to open with the way I feel about it.

except jonny fong.
sorry dude.

"You may be a king
or a lowly street sweeper,
but sooner or later
you'll dance with the reaper"

-the Grim Reaper, "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey"

-ccm

"Over an hour never let bloodstains dry!"

Wow, what a weekend, to say the least, quite a change from the last one. This was a lot better, less death involved. No disease either, to speak of. Friday was a chill night with a few folks, but the festivities (sober) extended into the early hours of the morning, to the tune of 6.30 am. Wow. The place was a mess.

The post before this one is related. Pete makes obscene amounts of money working for the campus, so he purchased close to $100 worth of snack foods. Myself and some people made an effort to eat much on Friday, but it was too much. Friday saw the debut of the Moxie bomb. For those who don't know, Moxie is a soft drink from Maine that originated as a tonic in the late 1800s, and became a soda after the FDA cleaned up the whole tonic mess. So cutting ahead to 2004, we combined this lovely drink, which tastes like cinammon when you first drink it, but then takes a sharp right towards the land of motor oil, with Jagermeister.

The Jager cut the taste of the Moxie.
That was frightening.

Saturday rocked me. HARD. To preface it though, I had a string of bad luck. 3 things happened, so I was due for a good day (great aunt died, squash racquet broke, and my NFL game stopped working, no scratches on the disc or anything). So the day begins quite late, and basically evolves into me hanging out at harvestfest for a bit, then grabbing Ferry for football. Well, the football got stolen out of Nat's car (Brian lost it, methinks...) but that took a while. Chris and I won, but I jammed my finger hardcore. Post sports, Robert's AWESOME parents treated a bunch of us orphans to dinner. It was great, to say the least, and I really liked them. Nice people. Skipping ahead a bit, after a trip to Target, I went to a Depression Party in Wright Dorm, followed by the MOBROC show.

No to digress.

The people that we usually party with all are in bands. This makes things difficult. To rectify this, we had a party at 2 am.

Back on topic, the show went really well aside from one kid getting slammed into the ground face first by his friend (a KO). I picked up Phil, got picked up by Josh, and then Adam, and then Pete and Zack (I believe). I spent many hours at that show, and I had a fabulous time. I was riding high as high could be, even though I wanted to talk to a certain someone, and I was unable to.

Then fate kicked my ass, much like Wesley Willis would probably do to me if I ever met the man.

The party happened and it went well, it was low key, and I enjoyed it. New people came, and it just felt right. Chill. People had just played music and were unwinding. And she was there. I was worried for a bit, but as to not be too creepy, I just want to say that I was successful in finally talking to this person that I had admired from afar, and was mightily impressed with the glimpses of her intellect that I saw.

Cool. That and she stayed at the apartment for a while, which earns her cool points.

I smiled for a few hours after she left.

"Someday we'll be old
and we'll do funerals like every single day
oh yeah
and we'll see the children laughin
and you'll think how you wore shades 'cause you won't cry
and you go hit the weissen
cause people die"

-ccm

(lyrics provided by the fine people @ Travis Morrison. Travis Morrison: giving me lyrics and music to write to since October 2nd)

Carl, I bought you food, I made you dinner. Thanks for a good time after, you know what I mean ;o......

Big up,

Luthy

wow. i feel kind of silly. the posts i thought were gone were actually posted, in a roundabout sort of way. that makes me happy ;-D

ok, off to class. A post to follow later about my last 2 concerts and life. cya saw ya.

-ccm

So i posted some intensely emotional stuff over the past few days, things in which i poured out my soul.
Since blogger sucks, it ate my posts, and they shall never be read.
Lucky you.

BUT to fill the void, until i can compel myself to write again, here's an amusing IM conversation I had with Mark, with whom I saw TMBG with on Saturday:

TexShmex: dude, I had an orthodox jew come up to me today and ask me if I was jewish
TexShmex: what does that mean?grumblingcat: they do that on some holiday
grumblingcat: s
grumblingcat: they come to my school sometimes
grumblingcat: it's so they can do rites on people or some shit
TexShmex: haha
TexShmex: jesus
grumblingcat: they don't believe in that ;-D
TexShmex: they guy was carrying like some reed or something
TexShmex: prayer stick
grumblingcat: whackin' stick
TexShmex: haha, so he could flog people for following jesus
TexShmex: the criminal
grumblingcat: the anti-jesus stick
grumblingcat: it's like the anti christ, in stick form
TexShmex: the pilate stick
grumblingcat: just make sure to wash your hands before you use it
TexShmex: hahaha
grumblingcat: brb
grumblingcat: ok, back
grumblingcat: just washed my hands
grumblingcat: so i'm ready to beat the jesus out of you
TexShmex: ready to whips some jesus?
TexShmex: haha
TexShmex: nice
grumblingcat: going to have to remember the jesus whackin' stick
TexShmex: how scary would you be if you carried around a reed-like stick with "pontius" seered on the side
grumblingcat: that would be so bad ass
grumblingcat: i need one
grumblingcat: a big one
grumblingcat: like pontious teddy roosevelt
TexShmex: that would be ungodly
grumblingcat: but awesome in a horsemen of the apaocalyps sort of way
TexShmex: god damned right
grumblingcat: always carry around hand sanitizer, just in case i need to lay down an ass whoopin' in a bind
TexShmex: hahaha
grumblingcat: man, this is such a great idea
grumblingcat: we should sell them
TexShmex: you know what the funny thing is
grumblingcat: what?
TexShmex: I'm sitting here trying to learn the words to "if I were a rich man" from fiddler on the roof because somehow it was stuck in my head the other day
grumblingcat: that is pretty funny
TexShmex: every thing comes full circle
grumblingcat: well shit
grumblingcat: i guess it has

That's that. Don't mean to offend. Please note, it was all in jest. No feelings are meant to be harmed, but damn, I want a Jesus Whackin' Stick. STAT.

-ccm

I would crawl into a ball if i could bend my spine that way.

I just poured out my soul, all about my dead great aunt, my life, and living it to the fullest, and blogger just ate it. I am mad beyond words at this moment, yet tired beyond my years.

So much emotion dropped into a void.

I hate technology and its ability to destroy beauty.

-ccm

Live long and then we die.

My great aunt died on the day I saw TMBG in NYC. An odd mix of emotions to say the least. I had fun that night, missing Bridget by her blonde hair in Irving Plaza, doing a double shot of Wild Turkey, and just sort of feeling life as it washes over me. I didn't know anything then, and now I feel even stupider. It was a strange thing, to think of what went on then, and even stranger now. When I heard the news I was oddly unemotional, I mean, I only really knew her for the last 8 years, maybe, not even that. I did know her though, and now I'll miss her. I was not as close to her as my grandmother, but in a way I feel the same about it; a lot of old memories are being brought up in my head. Nostalgia takes over, and theres that empty feeling in my stomach. My life then compared to now is so different, and in all honesty it'll just keep getting different.

We all get older, but I want to be like Rita Gronne and have a good time getting old. The one thing that I can take from my short time with her is that you have to live life to the fullest. If you want to do something, do it. Why wait? Who knows when you'll be run down, killed, catch the plague, or anything. It's sad to think that I only realize this with death, but it's true. We take living for granted, just like so many small things. To be able to do in a single day what I do would be the gift of a lifetime to some, just for the luxury of it. The fact that I'm not going hungry, by any means, is a clear sign that I'm a lot better off than the vast majority of the world. The fact that you are reading this means you are too.

I feel detatched to a degree. Right now I am alone in my house, the only one awake, and if given the opportunity I would hug Satan, I feel so alone. Marc Summers is on the TV talking about Disney, but even the magic kingdom holds nothing for me now. All I can do is just think, sleep, and go see her tomorrow, all laid out for the viewing. There I will say the final goodbye to a woman I didn't know as well as I would have liked, who lived a story so complex and heartwrenching that it would make you cry to hear it, who lived and saw so much. She faded away.

Her nurses bathed her in lotion when they laid her out. They took great care of her because they liked her. To appease her spirit they took great care of their friend, tucking her in for the night and giving her an extra pillow for the trip. they took good care of her, and it will show. When she gets to the dance, everyone will marvel at how milky her skin is, and then she'll twirl for an eternity with those she loved, never having to see those she hated, and living a dream. A ball for her, everyday.

I miss Nana.

-ccm

My god.

I am writing this in word, since blogger is being a bitch and a half.

So it is 3.44 am and I have been charged to represent mankind, as in men, better.

CHRIS MASTELLONE, NOT REPRESENTING MEN SINCE 1983

To begin with, I never considered myself much of a man in the sense that I don’t like to slap other guys on the ass over a touchdown, but rather celebrate with a contrived high five, or other self conscious act. I am a man by gender, and I like women in sexuality. Women is where I am going with this.

Is it wrong for a man to care about a woman? Heavens no. Should me just objectify women? Heavens no. What good what that lead to? Feelings would be hurt, and people would just be fucked up, emotionally and physically. People would be fucked ugly. That’s a new phrase I’m trying to introduce into the lexicon, so I hope that it fits.

Men, the men that I am most like, mourn the loss of a really good relationship. It is not self pity. It is not wallowing in how tough life is. It is the loss of a confidant, the closest friend that one could imagine, someone with whom you would share everything with, and in most extreme cases, give your life for. You have just lost someone who previously completed you.

Men don’t mourn over themselves, they mourn over the women that they lose. At least the good ones do. There are plenty of guys who want to fuck girls, and that’s it. They don’t care. I think that caring about someone makes them special. It may be naïve of me, but when I’m dating a girl, I want them to feel like they are the world, that they are the most meaningful thing in my life, because if I’m going to devote my time to someone, they damn well better be the most meaningful thing. I think that if you are in a relationship and the other person doesn’t matter, get out of it. It was not meant to be. That person should make you turn to jelly every time you see them. They should be just incredibly meaningful to you. No hook ups and all that shit. It’s just not cool.

But I am ranting, like I always do. With a breakup comes the loss of friends. I’m not talking about the kids that you party with. I’m talking about families, relatives, etc. Real people. They are gone after that. Why? Because no matter how much they liked you, no matter how close you were, kin will always matter more in their eyes. You have lost another family, especially if you have known them for a long time. I speak from personal experience when I say that while I missed Shannon a hell of a lot, I also missed her family and relatives. Pat and Ron and Joss really meant a lot to me, as well as her immediate family. But I am cut off. I could probably now reapproach them, and in fact, I think I will.

If you don’t cry over a relationship, what was it for? If it’s a few dates, and doesn’t work out, that’s one thing. Save the salt. But if you put in a big investment, emotionally, you should be torn up after it. It’ll put you in a funk. Love does that. Love can make people do anything that you can think of. Today I felt that tingle, that breathless feeling, for the first time in about a year. It really caught me by surprise, and made me feel great, but also sad. Love is like that.

Men are no worse than women. We are the same animals. Gender, physical and perceived, doesn’t matter. We treat each other differently, which means that we fuck each other over in different ways. We can all be horribly offensive, we can all really hurt, but when it comes don’t to it, why? Why do we? What reasoning do we have? Is it defenses? Did mom hug you too much, or not at all?

We all suck. We love, we hate, we get jealous, we are oblivious that we hurt other people, but we all feel these things. We can be disappointed with love, with life, with each other, but it shouldn’t last. Humanity should not tear itself apart over some frat boys yelling at some girls, or the sorority sister toying with the nerd’s emotions. That’s not a good reason to dissolve the race, the species of humanity.

If you are hurt by love, it’ll get better. For some it takes longer than others, but it’s a personal thing. You can’t rush this shit. Like I said, Love is immense, and when you have the most intense of emotions running wild in your person, you have to take into account that it can blowback and just fuck your life up. When love decides to blowback, the damage varies. Sometimes it’s a small thing, a night out with the boys and some chicken wings. Other times it’s a months long ordeal of not knowing exactly how to trust. Men and women do it. Don’t like chicken wings? Insert booze and or ice cream. Whatever food you want.

Ok. This is done.

“oh i could give a straight up goddamn
i could give you four or five of them
i got a thousand in my bank account
break it open let the goddamns walk out

all my traumas hinge upon
some convoluted axiom
of the cube of x plus y
equals itself divided by now

where have you gone?”

-ccm

(mike doughty for the lyric)