You ever get that feeling that some thing's out of place? Like when there's a tiny grain of sand stuck in your shoe right under your little toe -- it doesn't hurt, but you can feel it just barely enough that it bothers you every time you think about it. And you just can't stop thinking about it.
I'm sure you've all felt that way. Right?
Now imagine that you take off your shoe and clean it out, but you can still feel the grain of sand. So you change your socks, wash your feet, use different shoes, go barefoot. At some point the grain of sand is gone -- it might've been when you cleaned out the first shoe or when you decided to go barefoot or any time in between. But you can still feel it. No matter where you go, what you do, how much you try to ignore it, you can still feel that damn piece of sand under your toe.
You start screaming, you start crying, you hit things, you scrub your foot until the callouses are gone and your flesh shines through new and you're finally exhausted enough to just fall asleep, hoping you won't feel the sand under your toe when you awaken.
And you don't. You wake up feeling great. You get up and get dressed. You've forgotten all about that boulder under your toe. Eventually you end up going outside and the first pebble you step on reminds you of the grain of sand and you can feel it again like it's been there with you all along.
And so you do the only thing you could do in a situation like this --
I'm having one of those days today -- one of those days where I can't stop feeling emotions -- and it sucks. I keep thinking about all the shitty, fucked up things that people do and it's making me sick.
Human beings are vile, disgusting creatures and the universe should be cleansed of this parasite that is the human disease.
I feel like I've been, once again, neglecting my blog. Recently, I've felt like I should spend a lot more time writing (partially due to people telling me that I should just quit my job and write full-time), but I haven't had the inspiration or the patience to actually sit down and do it. So I finally mustered up all the determination I could manage to have in one place at one time and here we are.
I finished work at 0745 this morning and I still have not slept for more than a few minutes (I accidentally fell asleep for a couple of minutes whilst transferring some things onto my laptop from my brother's jump drive. Luckily, I awoke quickly. I didn't want to sleep through the whole day and then be awake the whole night and end up being on the wrong schedule when I go back to work on Monday; this is the reason for no sleep. Also, I had a lot of laundry to do. I still have more to do tomorrow. I also cleaned up my room a little bit (honestly, it just looks cleaner because now there's less laundry on the floor...). I also did some exercise, which was great. I've exercised twice today. I'm going to try keeping it up.
Speaking of exercise. I really want to get fit again. I don't really enjoy being unfit. I'm a really big guy, and I know I have potential to have a great body -- building muscle is really easy for me -- but I have to work hard at it. Working hard at something requires determination and passion and focus. Three things that I just don't have -- for some reason, I've just gotten comfortable with having a mediocre body. But no more, I say! I shall become fit again. I want to be able to do 30 one-handed pushups without breaking a sweat again.
Anyway... Until next time, and stuff? ... ... ... ... OUT!
So. Somebody I work with asked me to write a story with her as the protagonist. I started it differently, but only got two paragraphs through before I gave up. I decided to start over. I haven't finished yet, but so far it's looking good. I just hope I have the inspiration and creativity needed to finish. Also, patience. I need lots of patience. Here it is.
The only thing hotter than the sun beating down on her neck was the sand dancing at her feet, between her toes, on her ankles. Like millions of devil’s tongues licking for the last of my sweat, she thought. She wished only for water and closed shoes; her throat tired and her feet cracked and dry, she pressed on north, hoping that soon she would be on the shores of the Nile. For weeks she had traveled the desert in search of the Seer, but had eventually given into defeat and turned back for the safety and life afforded by the GreatRiver. In the days following the revelation that she was destined to rule the Land of the Old Pharaohs, Vashenka had rejoiced – finally she would receive the riches and glory she deserved. Now – quietly, and in secret, always – she cursed the gods for setting her on a fool’s task. A task she now adamantly believed would claim her life. Although she had been born – and had lived a great many of her years – before the Final War, Vashenka thought little of her life before. Unlike so many of the others, Vashenka had done well for herself in this new world and had carved out of a niche in Egypt. Vashenka’s already-present faith had only been bolstered by the sudden and violent return of the Old Gods, and she had been blessed accordingly – during the Great War, she was one of a handful of elite assassins chosen by Ra to destroy the false gods of the modern world. She worshipped Ra and Ra, too, worshipped her – to the extent that a god could worship a mortal. Now, however, she cursed him for looking upon her with his fiery gaze while she thirsted so. Exhausted, she fell to the sand, giving up.
Vashenka awoke to the smell of meat being stewed over a fire. Rabbit, perhaps? Her throat felt like she had swallowed a thousand needles, but she discovered that she had started to salivate again – she had been hydrated. “You’re awake, girl. No, don’t try to sit. You are still weak from the desert. The sand almost took you, you know. What made you go out in the desert like that with no water?” The man’s voice was old and rough, but soothing. “Ra has blessed me with the ability to travel the desert for many weeks without water. I misjudged the time it would take to complete my task.” Vashenka’s throat hurt as she spoke. Carefully, she opened her eyes, hoping to not be looking directly at the sun. She found that she was in a warm tent, and it was late in the night. “Who are you? What day is it? How long have I slept? Where are we?” “Did you complete your task, girl?” The Old Man – for now that she had opened her eyes, Vashenka could see that he was indeed quite old – ignored her questions and continued as if she had not inquired anything of him so urgently. “You looked headed toward the Nile. Either you gave up, or you did what needed doing.” Vashenka hesitated. She did not know whether to trust this man or not, but something told her she should answer honestly, “I… I did not complete my task. Daily, Ra turned his face toward me and beat on me with his radiance. I was forced to give up and return home.” “Tsk. I see. Why are you so quick to believe that Ra had something to do with your failure? And why are you so quick to believe that you have indeed failed?” The old man started pouring stew into a bowl. It was rabbit, and Vashenka’s stomach growled in anticipation. “I can tell that you are hungry, girl, and still tired. Eat now, and then sleep again. We shall talk in the morning.” “Thank you, Old Man.” Vashenka started eating immediately, then paused, “May I ask your name?” “My name. Yes. Well, I have many names. The Greeks called me Tiresias, to the Druids I was known as Cathbadh. And Odin himself knew me as Mimir. Here, in Egypt, I am simply called the Seer. But you may call me Old Man, if you please.” Vashenka was shocked. “You are the Seer!? I have traveled far to find you!” “Sleep now, child. There is time for talking later.” The Old Man muttered under his breath and waved his hand across Vashenka’s eyes. She suddenly became drowsy and turned to lie back down and sleep. The Old Man caught her half-eaten bowl of stew before it fell to the ground. The Old Man smiled to himself and went out into the dark night to stand watch until Ra once again protected them.
It was already bright and the midday sun was high in the sky when Vashenka ventured out of the tent. She felt much stronger after the few spoonfuls of stew she had eaten the previous night. Her dreams had been plagued by visions of the Nile drying up – people had long thought that it could happen, but there had never been much fear for the Nile flowed strong even as other rivers dried over night. At first the Old Man was nowhere around, but Vashenka soon noticed him coming over a sand dune to the East. He was carrying a large water skin and Vashenka was immediately reminded that she remained thirsty, even after being hydrated so recently. “Where did you find water in the desert, Old Man? The Nile is still very far away, of that I am certain.” Vashenka knew the Old Man could not have walked to the Nile and back in a week, let alone one night, and she knew there was not an oasis for hundreds of miles. “Of the old gods, the one who has always liked me the most is Bacchus. When I am athirst, he fills my skin with wine.” The Old Man was grinning from ear to ear, waiting. “But I am parched, Old Man! I need water, not wine! If I am to complete my task, I cannot be drunk as a fool when I return to my home!” Vashenka was angry now and her eyes glowed with the red of Ra’s light. “Hah-hah! Don’t worry, child. I do not indulge in wine myself. I know some of the old ways of Alchemy and I use my skill to create water from this wine. How do you think I survive out in the desert like this?” The Old Man laughed a deep, resonant laugh that sounded much too young and powerful for a man of his years. He poured some wine from the skin into a goblet and handed it to Vashenka. She waited for the Seer to do something to the wine in her goblet but her turned from her and headed into the tent. When Vashenka looked down into her glass, about to cry out to the Old Man for his magic, she discovered that the wine had changed into crystal clear water.
Physically, there are two things that I know for certain I inherited from my grandpa: my nose—which is large and European—and my chin—which is understated without the underline of a beard.
Aesthetically, I learned many things: the love of nature and the outdoors, the love of the taste of beer whether it includes alcohol or not, the love of Dean Koontz and Stephen King, and the insatiable need to always have access to one’s favorite foods – even if it means learning to cook it yourself.
Theologically, through his own conversion, my grandpa showed me that nobody is ever lost and anybody can find faith and God’s love, no matter how many people may say it’s too late.
This morning, my grandpa taught me how a man can pass on with pride – by never giving up and fighting every step of the way until his final breath.
Joshua looked at the remnants of the broken beer bottle in his hand and a thought flashed through his mind like the lightning-quick movement that had broken it. How the fuck did I get here? Before he finished his monologue and answered himself, the Big Man’s fist hit him. Everything went black.
***
Three days earlier.
“Listen man, it’s not like I’ve had a bad year. I just haven’t had a particularly good one, if you know what I mean. I haven’t done anything important. Nothing exciting, y’know?”
“I get it. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Let’s just go to Judy’s party. Jacob said he’d give us a ride back home if we get too smashed.” Jimmy was in love with Judy, but would never admit it to anybody. Joshua knew it, but tried not to tease him too much – Jimmy was a sensitive guy. He decided not to tease him this time and continued digging the hole for the pine tree sapling that Jimmy was getting ready to plant.
“We go to Judy’s party every year. And besides, it’s not like we can’t show up fashionably late,” he said it with class, “Her parties always go on until after dawn.” Joshua was sweating now. He hated the feeling of sweat running down his ass crack and took a break from digging to wipe the sweat from his body. He lit a hand rolled cigarette and leaned on his shovel. “Look, Jimmy, let’s just go out to The Hole for a couple of drinks. We can leave at eleven and still make it to Judy’s in time for the count down. Maybe this year she’ll kiss you.”
“You say that like I’ve asked her before,” Jimmy said, looking up from his sapling.
“The problem is that you haven’t asked her before, Jimbo,” Joshua took a drag of his cigarette and continued speaking through smoke. “You never know until you try. What I’m saying is maybe you need a little liquid courage before we get there, is all.”
“Alright, man. Let’s just get this yard done. That hole’s almost dug. I’ll finish digging; you start on the lawn in the back.”
***
The next two days went by without much incident. Jimmy and Joshua worked on a couple of small landscaping jobs they had going on and finished painting Mrs. Jankowsi’s kitchen. They did the kitchen for free, but she insisted on giving them a couple hundred bucks for the speedy work. Jimmy tried to change his mind about going to The Hole a couple of times, but Joshua always got him to stick to the plan.
When the 31st finally arrived, Joshua rolled out of bed at one in the afternoon with a mild hangover – he liked to get things started early. He called Jimmy and got him to stop at the liquor store on his way over – he really liked to get things started early. Joshua rolled himself 20 cigarettes; just in case. Sometimes he finished them all before the night was over and ended up having to poison himself with what he called ‘corporate control-sticks.’
By the time Jimmy showed up Joshua was almost done rolling his cigarettes. Jimmy opened a couple of beers and they downed them, and then started on seconds.
“So, Jimbo. Here’s what I’m thinking: we head over to The Hole at around three – in… what? About an hour – and we have a few drinks, maybe play some pool. No, no, don’t worry; I’m not in the mood to play for money. We can get something to eat from their kitchen – did you know they opened their kitchen again? – anyway, I’m hoping that pretty lady’s working behind the bar again tonight. What should I wear?”
“Josh, calm down. We’ll just wing it, yeah?”
“I know, I know. I just wanna make this a great night, man. End the year with a bang, y’know? Make it memorable.”
“We’ll make it memorable. Just don’t go too crazy at The Hole. Judy’s always got a couple of kegs waiting for us at her party.” Jimmy had finished his beer and was opening a couple more for him and Joshua.
Sarcastically, Joshua chastised him, “I thought you said not to go crazy; now you’re opening more beers.”
“Well, if you don’t want it – ”
“I never said that! Give it here. But don’t worry, man. I won’t drink too much until we get to Judy’s. Just a little starter. A little pick me up.”
“Well, make sure not to drink too much. I don’t wanna have to literally pick you up.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
***
Joshua and Jimmy arrived at The Hole without incident. Jimmy’s got a pretty high tolerance for alcohol, and he always drives safely, but they almost got pulled over. Luckily, the cop turned off before he got a chance to get suspicious. They pulled into The Hole’s parking lot and parked near the exit. Jimmy was busy locking up the car and checking his hair wallet, so Joshua went ahead. A man was standing outside talking on his cell phone, staring blankly at Joshua.
“Take a picture, buddy, it’ll last longer.” Joshua was already a little drunk from the beers him and Jimmy had had earlier, and even sober he wasn’t the type of person to take any hostility from strangers.
“Shut up, asshole, I’m not staring at you.” The guy was pretty big, but Joshua wasn’t about to just give up.
“Oh. I must be made of glass, then. Were you staring at the guy behind? Oh, wait. Nobody’s behind me.”
“Just fuck off.” The Big Man looked like he wasn’t interested, and Jimmy had just shown up, so Joshua forgot about it and went inside.
Jimmy ordered the first round, and Joshua got the second round at the same time ‘cause they’d already finished the first beers before the bar lady brought their change. They started a game of pool, just playing against each other.
***
By about 10:30PM, Joshua was pretty far gone. Jimmy was a little drunk, but still okay; still pretty level-headed. Noticing the time, Jimmy figured it’d be a good time to head out.
“Hey, Josh. Let’s get going. We promised Judy we’d show, remember?” He didn’t want to sound desperate, but he also didn’t really like the idea of staying at The Hole for too much longer.
“Hold on a sec, man. I wanna talk to that girl there. She’s been looking at me for the past hour.” Joshua pointed at a cute brunette sitting alone outside. “Don’t kid yourself, man. I’m pretty sure she’s got a boyfriend. I saw a guy sitting there with her earlier. Let’s just get going.”
“Naw, man. Go ahead without me. I’ll catch a cab. Maybe I’ll get to bring her along.”
“Sure. Just don’t take too long.”
Joshua took a long pull from his beer, lit one of his hand rolled cigarettes, and walked up to the girl. He chatted with her a little while, and they seemed to be hitting it off. Until her boyfriend showed up. Joshua turned around to see the Big Man standing behind him with what seemed to be an expression of anger painted on his face.
“You. What the fuck do you think you’re doing talking to my girl, you little twerp?” The Big Man didn’t look like he actually wanted an answer from Joshua – just a hasty retreat. Joshua wasn’t that type of guy, though.
“What the fuck does it look like? I’m talking. You big twerp.” Joshua answered him, mocking his expletive by emphasizing the word. He immediately started to regret his decision to stand up the Big Man as he was shoved backwards. “Look, man. I’m not in the mood for a fight. I’m a bit drunk. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“Yeah, of course. Pussy.”
Joshua broke his beer bottle.
***
The 1st
Joshua awoke in his bed with what felt like a combination of a hangover and a good beating, which is exactly what he was feeling. His face felt broken, his head was pounding, his stomach was growling, his throat felt like sandpaper.
“You look like shit, man.” Jimmy’s voice sounded like a thousand thunder storms in the middle of a library. “I was a bit worried about you, so I came back to take a look. Some big guy said you tried to pick a fight with him and he had to take you out. Here, drink some water. You were pretty gone last night, man.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry I ruined your plans to go to Judy’s.” Joshua sat up and tried to swallow some of the water. He coughed half of it back up.
“Oh, no. Nothing was ruined. I ended up at her place before I came down to check on you. She left Jill in charge at the party and came with me. We kissed at midnight.” Jimmy was smiling, but trying not to look too happy, considering how badly his friend was bruised up. “Best New Years Eve I could’ve asked for. Looks like your plan worked out just fine. For me, anyway.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
Joshua could already tell; 2012 would be a good year.
First things first:
I've been neglecting those trillions of you that read my blog, and I apologize. I've been a bit busy with work, and also slightly depressed. Now's a good time to mention (for the first time on this blog), that I'm married. And things aren't going too well with my wife. My wife is in America (which has been established as a place where I am not), and we've never done too well with a long distance relationship, even though most of our relationship has been spent apart. I suppose we lasted longer than most would, under the circumstances.
The second of the things comes... second.
You may (or may not) have noticed that this is my first blog post with a title longer than one word. I promise, it won't happen often. It's the title (and chorus) from a song about, well... going to the gym. I've decided that I'm gonna start working out again. My brother has a couple of 15KG (33LBS) dumbells that I'm gonna use, and I'll be doing pushups and situps. I just did a few curls and some squats and some pushups. I'm terribly out of shape. Used to be that the amount of repititions that I just completed with the 15KG weights was what I could do with 30KG weights. Also, I started getting a bit tired after 5 pushups; I used to be able to do 60 in a minute without breaking a sweat. I'll get back up there, though. I can feel my muscles rejoicing at doing some work again.
I really want to write a story, but I haven't had any creative inspiration recently. Also, my writing sucks. I think I've lost my voice.
