***I am a situationalist writer. This blob of craziness is my story. Since I work on this over spans of time, I am able to edit as an outsider, but usually these words are RAW. I don't believe that words will ever explain what the fuck is going on inside our heads, so please read this as if an army of painters were painting a new idea in your head every 5 seconds. By the time this story is complete, please do not concentrate on the words and the "imposed" semantics. This story is a mix of RAW emotions that I feel and do not know how to put in words **exactly**
Every now and then, you may see a paragraph separorater such as the one below. Don't be alarmed | just go with it.
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(** FUN TOPIC ZONE
**) ******
These are the Labels that I wanted to include in this article, so hopefully the robots of blogger will queue these:
depression, interesting, life story, loathing, rave, raves, party, christian, bible, drugs, fun, comedy, hilarious, nervousness, giddy, good, awesome, perfect, wacky, simple, philosophy, drama, free, liberation, art, ponies, pony, dog, breed, cinnamon, tea, curtains, fashion, top10, underground, obscure, alcohol, kite, legos, trains, train, locomotive, coal,
&*&***
***Linking is the most basic operation that anything can do. Linking is the ONLY ability that anything has including humans. An object by itself always has a story: it always has a link to other things to even exist (or be noticed). We are only perceptive of the relationships that make up everything in the known universe. Human thought is just a flow of links to other links. Can YOU think of something in your head that isn't related to anything else?
We are not able to see a singular instance of something that exists. We only see groups of objects and ideas and we figure out and manage the links between these objects. The process of going through these links (from a question to an answer) is called LOGIC, and the process of ignoring certain links on the path to a thought is called REASON. Our existence is nothing more that a journey through the spiderweb of relationships that join the unknown to the understood. BUT!! What is understood is TOTALLY and ONLY what we as individuals have gathered through our journey of life. Our individual ideas do not exactly translate for other people. We then spend our lives attempting to convince other people of the linking pattern that we build within.
******
VA, WV, CA, IL, car, cars, antique, antiques, gold, silver, stock, stocks, NASDQ, NYSE, money, fortune, pan, velcro, tape, glue, cloud, clouds, processor, x86, linux, howto, boat, boats, swimming, laser, lasers, lawn, lawn care, ants, ant, insects, science, weird, glasses, pencil, pencils, pen, pens, old, new, sewing, aviation, boeing, sand, geology, nature, moon, aliens, alien, abduction, walmart, wal-mart, thomas edison, christmas, santa, santa clause, SQL, MySQL, kernel, BSD, death valley, ballet, dancing, dance, fine art, fine arts, sin, peas, carrots, bacon, cow, fences, fence, japan, japanese
ENJOY!!
`':::)`'
*(read each idea and separate them)*
It has been a long time since I forced a pen to produce any logical thoughts on a piece of medium. I used to be an artist, back in time, but now I am forced to be a Scientist. The stories of my past have been roaming free on the range of my consciousness for years, grazing on my hope that one day I would have the courage to put them to sleep. I know people go through their life, constantly comparing each other's to their own, and I am guilty of the same type of psychic-stalking.
My narcissistic and haunting personality produces a gleaming attitude of self-loathing, for I am doomed now to a life of what-ifs and uneasy certainties which make my night life sleepless. Where have I been all of these years? What the fuck had I been fighting against? I am 28 (now 32[now 37]) years old, and I am just now finding out what splintery, rotted bridge I have been crossing! It used to appear to continue on to the supposed greener grass on the other side. The fact is, I don't even know what I have ever accomplished, and for that matter, what my purpose in life entails. But that is totally OK, since there are 8 Billion other questionable decision-makers hammering out a fence of understanding. I have wasted so much time being anti-serious and for so long have bathed in a pool of uselessness until my existentialism has turned wrinkled and pruned. So here I sit at 12:13am on a Monday morning, when I know damn well that I have to get up for work at 7:30am, but instead I click away in this 5x8 inch blog window just hoping that I get some of these demons out! I have so much to write, and I know that some Fuck is going to come along and steal my writings. So FUCK YOU future blog stealer. LOL.
I once sat on this wooden bench, outside of this small, rented office space, smoking a cigarette. I had long, curly brown hair at the time and weighed 140 pounds. My deep blue eyes could tell you a story with just one glance, and I would know when a woman wanted to fuck my brains out just by exchanging looks with her. I had just gotten back home to my family in Chester, Virginia after 4 years living of in Chicago by myself. I was so very motivated to take over the world, or at least the underworld. I knew that I was special, that I was going to be important. Everyone around me was fascinated by me because I was different. I had just survived an incredible 4 years in one of the biggest cities in the world, and I had learned secrets told to me by the great winds of Lake Michigan that blew over the streets of Chicago. I left Chicago homeless, moneyless, but with a big stupid grin on my face. Now I sat in front of the office of a Christian psychologist, my Mother filling out all of the paperwork inside. It was so good to be home, in Chester, for when I left 4 years earlier, I hated Chester with every inch of intestine in my gut.
She handed me a clipboard with 10 pages to fill out. Each page was neatly filled with a well thought out questionaire of prejudgements, including one full page of a “check yes or no” list of sins. Among the sins were coveting, drug abuse, cursing, and even an option of admitting to beastiality. What the fuck could that ever accomplish for anyone, much less an ex-rock star with real problems that were not related to whether or not I have followed God's plan for my life? The woman had big 80's hair and clown makeup, and mind you this was 2003, and reeked of deet because whatever perfume she got last Christmas was certainly labeled as insect repellent. More frightening was my Mother's enthusiasm in bringing me to this lair of wackiness. I suddenly wanted to get back on the next 24 hour train ride to Chicago.
I realized at that moment how far I had become disconnected from my past, and how lonely I was destined to become, but I also was ecstatic that I finally was my own person. I had been trying so hard to be a real person, and not just some lemming who was intellectually made of prayers and wishful thinking. My life would be difficult and treacherous, and had already had such a profound impact on my normality and acceptance into a world with no clear terrain. I am the oldest of 5 children, and I was surviving without my Father, who had left my Mother with all 5 kids when I was only 16. It all goes back to that moment when he left, because that was when I became unplugged from premonition and sought a life that existed in an alternate universe. I had to become something of value to this world, but with no guidance from my parents, I had to explore everything blindly and without frequent clarification from someone who had already been through some shit. I had to search in Chicago.
I remember staring through the rear view mirror of my 1994 Nissan Sentra, which was packed with everything I owned, to catch the last glimpse of my Mother and my girlfriend at the time waving and crying as I left Chester to seek a better life in Chicago. I had made the 10 hour drive with my sister before, but this time there would be no return trip. I had 3 grams of weed and a aluminum foil pipe that could be easily wadded up and the weed swallowed if I was to get pulled over. I had failed high school and even before my peers could walk up on stage to get their diplomas, I was headed to a new life with new, unseen opportunities. My trusty guitar lay in the front seat beside me, and what little clothes and decorations I scrounged up from my old room were packed in every square inch of that Japanese-made automobile. I remember listening to DJ Dan and Hudia while getting high on my long journey to the Mid-West. I had no friends where I was going, but little did I know how quickly that could change for an 18 year old boy.
My Father lived by O'Hare International, just 3 stops away on the Blue Line, and I stayed with him for a short while, so that I could start my new life. I remember first feeling the low, rumbling sound of the city while standing outside like it was alive with conflict because it encapsulated such a vast amount of raw earth with its concrete. I knew that, unlike Virginia with her trees and nature, this city was entirely man-made. Everything from the endless grid like streets to the unspecific human culture, shaped a growing excitement deep within my heart. I knew that I was home, but I also knew that this was something that was completely opposite of what I used to think home to be.
to be continued ...I knew that I was home, but I also knew that this was something that was completely opposite of what I used to think home to be. Smells are everything. I remember the smell of the 90/94 - oily, dirty, and the fucking city ya'll! You really don't know what's out there until you just go there. It was everything and more than I had even imagined. I was like sitting down at the bingo table, and given 100 new cards. Options unlimited. There were so many possibilities of what I could accomplish, and the resources were so vast that I could be interested in just about anything. I frequently rode the "EL" (elevated train) just to fucking go somewhere. I once had an older lady offer me a place to stay that night just cause I was talking to her about life while riding the EL. So here I go from needing a ride to 7-11 while living in a small town to just walking to the nearest redline stop to find entertainment. I need to chat about this Enon 7-11. Enon is a suburb of Chester, Virginia and that's where I lived when i was a teen. Oldest of five kids. Typical suburb plot, but the kids were awesome. I gained my coolness from my Father purchasing 3 mopeds used but working. I was the coolest kid in the neighborhood with my moped. There was a 7-11 .6 miles from our house, and was located on the main road leading into my neighborhood. My neighbor buddy, let's call him Craig, showed me a path behind the 7-11 which led to a narly woods hang-out spot. It was a cool ass neighborhood, and I'm happy that I grew up there. It was such a weird feeling when I moved to Chicago, purposely giving up all that I knew to find something unknown. Blindly going on journey, "hoping" that I get there wherever that may be. That was my real agenda and I don't regret a minute of it. Not that I should, right? I mean, fuck, if we spend our lives worry about what we did we would spend a lifetime in the past. The mirror is always LIVE. I've always thought that about the mirror. It can re-sync your Chi. Chicago was amazing. That is such an understatement. Chicago was another dimension. So many options. So many opportunities to fuck up, and just move on to the next scenario. So many fractals, so many people, so many cold days, so many traffic tickets, so many stories, so many laughs, so many ideas, so many parties, so many GOOD FUCKING TIMES!!! Enough to last me a lifetime in fact. Details about this will have to come out in later posts, as these are very personal to me. But, I've always known that my story needs to be known out there. Some men built pyramids, some built statues, some built cities - all in remembrance of them. My purpose is just to tickle your thought and really question the seemingly common thought. In 1999, I left my family's house and moved to Chi-Town. I moved in with my father at first, and the first thing I did was go to a rave. My sister was with me, and we both went to a party in the south side of chicago, all before GPS, using a mapquest printout (we had to ask our dad to print the directions). When we got there, I remember standing in a short line then going through some dark office rooms, then opening up to the huge convention space - all dark except for glow stick light. We ended up rolling with a group of cool people, then hanging out at thier house after the party. it was 10am the next day when my sis and I arrived back at my dads apartment! We definetly looked like we'd been up all night (and not naturally). Ended up with a stuffed Ewok that belonged to the guy that my sister was making out with that night HAHAHA. I'll have to finish this Ewok story later... I lived with my father for 3 months and tried to finish the 12th grade at Taft HS (the same high school that the writers of Grease modeled the movie after) but I then met a super hot blond girl who was very connected to the chicago underground but also a respectable RA at her college (yeah, right she'd kill me if I mention her name). I started skipping school and taking the EL to her dorm instead. We'd have the most amazing time, just so free. One day, i surprised her by showing up unexpectedly, and the front desk student knew who I was so they let me right up to her floor. I also had a key to her dorm room so I opened the door. And I caught her in bed giggling with someone else!!! But it was another girl. They were both naked, and my life seriously changed after that day. We fell in love with the third girl, and the girl vowed to move into an apartment with us. So we rented a 2 bedroom - all 3 of us. (2 girls and me assholes who say "oh two boys" hahaha). I was 19 years old, living in a threesome relationship, and living a normal 19 year old life. Let me tell you about the job I was working at during that time - I worked for a mechanic who fixed aircraft ground equipment and rented the equipment out to O'Hare Airport. Dude was a millionaire but looked like a regular guy. He had a Master Mechanic, Rob, who was such a cool dude. Things between my father and I had become strange, as i was living with my 2 girlfriends and not checking in very often (weeks). I looked up to Rob, and we would go out to Boston Market often for lunch. He had a thick broomstick mustache, and such a thick "nortern" accent. He taught me that you need 2 items to fix ANYTHING. The right tools and the right language! Saying fuck you to a 1/2 inch nut while torquing it with you Snap-On wrench really does the job! Well, I started missing a few days of work due to partying, then stopped showing up to work altogether. To be continued (sooner than 4 years, I promise) to be continued
**Personal Culture**
((Tree Bark))
♥♥Tree not trees, branches not change♥♥
&&Respect for each others personal culture is the glue that binds every human relationship&&
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It is an addition to what we already have experiences in life. Like, a garage in which we add boxes over the course of our garage tenancy.
Each box is one hell of an experience, and even though you don't have to go through the box every time you want to remember it, you still know
it is in the garage, and exactly what it contains☺☺
Personal culture is the glue that binds everyone, down to our personal battles with one's self. Personal culture is like a list of things
that we expect out of every interaction with any other human. We pre-stage ideas in order to cope with the entropic nature of our environment.
This pre-stage checklist is not always explained in words. It is a checklist of even emotions tied to memories which led to your
memorization of the entry into your brain. Personal culture is a "brain_database(@microsoft.com - licensed)" of emotional re-creations of one's past
experiences, and is the core of human behavioral reasoning for every relationship among humans.
Fuck, it could even be an explanation for the mating rituals observed in the Animal Kingdom. Well, thanks for reading. I'll be Bach...
-Derek Graffen
