Jump to User:

myOtaku.com: Mitch

Welcome to my site archives. 10 posts are listed per page.

Pages (87): [ First ][ Previous ] 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 [ Next ] [ Last ]



Wednesday, October 13, 2004


Before entering this hippocampus
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
I'm not a serious person. Anyone who says I am is a liar. Anyone who says I am doesn't know me.

I'm sarcastic. I poke fun at things. Life to me is something you should get the most out of, in your own way. Whatever way it is. I'm nihilistic. One of my favorite quotes is that one by Macbeth, the one about life just being a strutter on a stage, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. That quote personifies me. Who I am.

So this is a warning. A little post-it note in this infinite universe that is my head. It's something you should read before stepping in.

Don't take me seriously. Because, I don't take myself seriously.

If you do take me seriously, that's your problem. That's your fault, and you're culpable for it. If you do, it doesn't matter to me. I don't care.

I'm an apathetical monster, anyway.

I get my fun from being obscene. From taking what's considered oh-so-right in this society, and putting a mirror to it.

I get my fun from being profane. From being different in my way.

Take it or leave it. Love it or hate it.

These words are your semantics. But when I lay them down it's like they're being born. They are what I mean them to be.

When they get out of my head (the world), that's when they grow, and people give them their own meanings.

Comments (1) | Permalink

It's a day late, but better to have than not
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com


THE ULTIMATE SILENCE
October 12, 1998




Six years ago today, Matthew Shepard was murdered for being homosexual.

What will you do to end the silence?

Click here to post this on your own page or weblog

Comments (0) | Permalink

l({O])l_[=====]l({O])l
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
Anatomy test on tissues. Epithelial, connective, muscle.

Mitch definitely failed. Grade's already a B- in the class. Damn.

Comments (1) | Permalink



Tuesday, October 12, 2004


"I'll take the rapist for one hundred please."
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
So, I'm 18. So, who cares.

So, right now, there's this line of women outside my house, all wanting sex from me. So, can you smell it steaming into you? I can.

Just think, if you go to bed with me, and you're seventeen or younger, you can accuse me of rape and get a lot of money from me, and you can also steal my virginity. Think of the possibilities. They're immense. They're towering. They're overwhelming. Overbearing. They're titanic.

You know you want this. You know you want me. We're animals, let's go.

Comments (4) | Permalink



Monday, October 11, 2004


just letting it leak out in no certain way
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
Mom's been at Minot said she would be home tonight at 10 o'clock, to go eat somewhere
she's not here so i'm just sitting doing nothing much

Today at work, it's like we'd switched attitudes
Alex who looks like the guy who plays spider-man was quiet, would not say anything
he said he was down because Davey and Travis
had told him he was a bad buser
I told him to not listen to them,
that they were just giving him shit
that he was a good buser

When i saw him i thought of how
easily moods can change within a day,
how yesterday i wanted to get fired,
but today i was here and i would do my time
at work

When there was a dollar tip on a table i gave it to him
later when there was a two dollar tip at a table,
i gave it to him
he asked me to take it, but i told him it was his
i said it would make him happy

Earlier Lacey called and so she came over and nothing much happened
we just petted and messed with my dogs,
and then ate some ramen noodles and left

When i walked out of the Steak Buffet, came to my car
there was some notes on my car
One said, "Hi Mitch! It's Lacey!"

Another said, "Hi Mitch! Lacey!" and then her number,
seems i have a stalker
there was also a zip lock bag
with a brownie in it
I didn't know what to think, really

I wrote my Macbeth essay last night,
it is a decent essay but i need to sharpen it
I think i will just do that tomorrow, i just don't feel like it today

that's it
i was just letting it leak out, and seep in
in no certain way
that is the day

Comments (5) | Permalink



Sunday, October 10, 2004


Ha, ha, hahmmmm
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
You know, it's one of those meditative laughs.

It goes: "Ha, ha, hahmmm." I'm going to start doing that.

On a side note, kick my ass and call me slurpee.

Comments (3) | Permalink

Say Anything - Woe
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
All the words in my mouth that the scene deemed unworthy of letting out banded together
To form a makeshift militia and burrowed bloodily through my tongue and my teeth.
I stood proud in the gallery
with my open socket of a mouth for them to see.
They all just laughed and said, "That boy , he, that boy's got woe.
He lives with woe."
And this girl who I met
whose pride makes her hard to forget,
She took pity on me (horizontally) but most likely because of my band.
It's all I can get when I'm lonely
and these visions of death seem to own me
In the quiet of the classrooms all across the stacked United States of Woe.
We live with woe.
She said, "I can't get laid in this town without these pointy fucking shoes.
My feet are so black and blue and so are you."
Please take me out of my body up through the palm trees to smell California in sweet hypocrisy.
Floating. My senses surround my body. I wake my nose to smell that ocean burn.
So now I'm forging ahead past all the plutocrats who sold me out.
Go sob in your bed. If life is twice as pretty once you're dead then send me a card.
I'm still the optimist though it is hard
when all you want to be is in a dream.





The italicized part is amazing.

The bolded part applies to me personally.

Notice the bolded part is also italicized.

Thus it is both amazing and applies to me personally.

Comments (0) | Permalink

Bullet Proof. . .I Wish I Was
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
Today, I almost got myself fired. Intentionally. But they gave me another chance.

I was messing around, and I whipped Alex who looks like that guy who plays Spider-man. A customer said, "Is that flinging stuff all over?" And I said, "Yes. All over you."

The customer subsequently complained, and Donah took me into her office, and it didn't matter too much to me then if I was fired or not. I played it cool, told her what I had done straight-up, told her it was my fault, told her I'd apologize to the customer. Found out he'd left because he was mad.

She said, "Do you want this job?"

I shook my head, "Yes," I said.

She said we all make mistakes, and that I wasn't fired.

I told her, "Thanks for giving me a second chance." Did I mean it? Not really.

On one level I was happy I wasn't fired because, I knew if I was fired my parents would give me shit, I'd have to find a new job, and other such things of said manner.

On another level, I just didn't care.

I have enough sense to know to keep my thoughts to myself when it's imperative to the situation, when it could be detrimental. But today, I just pushed my luck for whatever reason. I don't know what it was.

I think mainly, I'm sick of the monotony. I'm sick of busing most of the times I've been at the place. I'm sick of dealing with the customers.

Eventually, though, I'll finally move up to line, and it'll be a lot easier. They already trained me on pies and friers, which is much easier than busing.

On another hand, Mike's getting a job at Hollywood Video, and says I could get a job there once I turn 18, which is this Tuesday.

The pay's better there. It's not busy as fucking hell there almost every day. Work's easier: most of the time would be sitting there watching movies, or playing games, or some thing, when there's no customer to help out.

Today, there was this baby crying, for a long time. Tears in his eyes. I just thought, Welcome to hell. I also thought, I deserve to cry more than you. You've still got the easiest parts of your life to go through. But I don't cry.

Women, they think babies are all "cute," all "cuddly," like they're some doll for them to carry around.

Well, when I see someone with a baby, the first thing I think is, You've done your purpose in life. And it's a rather purposeless purpose, because there's already 6 billion other people out there. I think, Why not just die now?

I never want to have kids. They look all cute and cuddly when they're young, but when they grow up they'll be like every other person. They won't be special. They won't be different. They'll still have all the limitations, all the shit this world does to you, done to them. They'll become another slave in this system.

Also, when I see old people all over the place at the Steak Buffet, I think, I hope I never get that old. I hope I die about fifty, even earlier.

I work tomorrow.

Right now, I'm trying to write my Macbeth essay. . .it's not coming out too well. It's shit, basically. But oh well, as long as I do it tonight, mostly, and then improve it tomorrow, make a second draft.

God, I'm such a crazy bastard. Hopefully some woman can tame this beast.

Comments (3) | Permalink



Saturday, October 9, 2004


Somewhere Out There, cont.
The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
V
I’m lying here and I’m thinking, thinking about Laurice, thinking about everything. You know how it is, you lie in your bed and thoughts leak into you. Come into you. It can’t be helped, and happens.

What I’m thinking is, we’re just organic machines. We’re machines, built by nature. Built by evolution.

We’d like to think we’ve got a soul. We’d like to think there’s love, there’s a God, that our existence has a real meaning, we can change the world, that there’s good and evil. We’d like to think, but none of it’s true.

All we are is, is a teeming mass of people. A mass of cells, of atoms. Of tissues. Of organs. And like the cogs in a clock, like a car, like any machine, all of what we’re made of works in concert to create what we are.

Pain’s not real. It’s just created in the brain, and relayed to us. It’s a defense mechanism. It’s our body telling us not to hurt ourselves, not to kill ourselves. It’s the self-perpetuating power of the human. Of all other animals. It’s survival.

We humans, we go against nature. We create our own natures. We’ve got clothes, we’ve got stores, buildings, computers, TVs. Guns, plastic surgery.

We’re not happy with a sunset. We’re not happy with just sitting out in the open woods, the moon shimmering up there. We’re not happy with an open field, we’re not happy but with what we make as nature.

Naturally, we’d be naked. It’s the way nature made us. Dogs get to walk around naked. Cats do. Rats do. Squirrels, raccoons, elephants. Any animal known to man but himself is naked.

Naturally, we’d live out in nature, unchanged. We’d not assimilate areas, not urbanize them. Not build houses, not build skyscrapers, not build roads.

Everything in the world, it’s synthetic.

Women, they’re supposed to wear this ridiculous make up. They’re supposed to be thin, they’re supposed to be what’s labeled as “beautiful.” Beautiful, meaning they’ve got to make a lot of sacrifices. They’ve got to either drop dead, or get pretty.

They’re supposed to be obsessed with looking beautiful. They’re supposed to cry and get all pissed when they don’t have big tits, so they go out and get a breast augmentation. They’re supposed to look at their nose and think it’s too wide, it’s not thin enough, so they need to go get a nose job. Their asses, they’re not good enough for anybody, they’re ugly, they’ve got to get an ass job. Their face, it’s ugly, they’ve got to go under the knife, change that. Widen the space between their eyebrows. Get fuller lips. Womens’ chests, they’re too fat, holy shit, they’ve got to get liposuction. They’ve got to starve themselves, not eat anything. Become anorexic. Become bulimic. Barf up all their food.

And in reality, all we are, is flesh machines. Our heart beats, supplying our body with blood, which allows everything to get nourished consistently. Our lungs breathe in the air to oxygenize our blood. Our brain controls all of our autonomic processes. It controls the heartbeat. It controls breathing.

It controls sex drive, the need to keep our species alive. We’re the products of evolution.

In our world today, there’s no natural selection. Natural selection, that’s when nature allows the better-suited genes to survive.

For example, if a mentally handicapped guy named Bob was born in nature, he’d die. For example, if someone with dwarfism was born in nature, they’d die. For example, if George Bush was born in nature, he’d die.

But instead, the worse genes keep going on. Genes which make it so someone’s more prone to cancer, so someone’s more prone to getting obese, just like every other American.

With our societies, organized as they are, being a veritable cesspool, bad genes are all over the place. Everyone’s fucking screwed.

In essence, we’re inhibiting evolution. Slowing it down. Making it go in reverse, even. It’s because we fight against nature, we make our own nature, a hell with roads, people squirming all over the place, businesses, commerce, machines we’ve made. We’re fighting viruses, bacteria, and natural selection’s making the tougher ones survive.

Say Donald ruptured his heart. In nature, he’d die, but since we’ve got heart transplants, Donald survives.

Say Larry’s got cancer, and does Chemo. In nature, he’d die, but since he got the Chemo, he lives. And goes on and has sex with Lisa, and has kids who pass on his cancer gene, and then their kids go have sex when they’re old enough, and pass on the cancer until who the hell knows when, to the point where every human on the earth is dying from cancer.

We might as well just commit suicide already.

We might as well not even exist. Because inevitably, our race’s going to go extinct. That’s something that can’t be stopped.

For example, the sun’s going to become a red giant, eventually, when it’s all used up. It’ll swallow the Earth whole then. For example, a meteor could hit the Earth at any time, it’s just a matter of time. For example, we’ll fight pithy wars, and maybe we’ll nuke the shit out of each other, and we’ll all die from radiation. For example, the AIDs virus evolves so it can become airborne, and we all die like fucking flies.

It’s all against us. The human race is a collection of star-crossed lovers. We love to learn, to find out things, but our own love is probably going to kill us, or show us how we’re going to get killed, and become extinct.

There’s probably already some other race out there, some aliens with bulbous eyes, sinuous movement, who’ll outlast us anyway. We’re pretty insignificant.

Maybe they’re significant. Maybe, we could hook up with these aliens, have some tentacle sex, and get a cross-breeding of our two races, and create an uber-race to rape the entire world.

Or not.

I’m going to bed. First, I’ll think about Laurice, then I’ll wake up tomorrow, and go to my classes.

VI

I sit in my class. There’s some teacher up there, blabbering on forever. Some students, they’ve got their hands on their chin, they’re listening to what’s being heard. Other students, they’re reading from their books. Other students aren’t even here, and in the big assembly hall, there’s empty desks.

This is what you pay for. This is college. You have to go through this shit in order to get a degree, so you can get some job so you can get money so you can stay alive. You have to listen to some lecturer go on and on about some subject which doesn’t mean jack shit, which never will mean jack shit in the long run to you.

Maybe you’ll absorb something that you’ll remember, maybe you’ll learn some interesting fact. Maybe. But when it comes down to it, what matters is experience. It’s when you put what you’ve learned into action, actually do something with it. That’s when you remember it.

More than half the shit you learn in college, you won’t even use at your job. It’s such a waste of time.

For some people, it’s a party. A big party. Get drunk each night, have sex. Get wasted. “Shitfaced,” as they say.

For some people, it’s working hard as hell. They get some part-time shitty job, then they study and do homework when they’re not in class, and they go to all their classes – perfect attendance.

There’s people like me, who just “go through the motions.” People who are doing what they have to do, even if they don’t like it. People who are apathetical monsters. Who really could give a big shit less. Who just want to make it through life, and get the most out of it doing what they like to do, not the stupid shit like college.

The instructor might as well not even be saying anything. You might as well just drop dead right there.

This is the rest of your life.

More and more and more dulling down, more shit, more indoctrination. Brain washing. Soon enough, you’ll lose yourself. Soon enough, you’ll become what you didn’t want to be. You’ll be what you thought you’d told yourself never to become.

You’ll be another passing face in this place. You’ll work most of your life, you’ll get your money. Have your funeral. Get buried. Maybe have kids.

This is it. You’ll be another forgotten name.

Sitting here in class, I just don’t care. But I make myself care. Me, the crazy bastard, I just think of Laurice. I just think about how I’d like to be sleeping, forever. How I’d like to not even exist.

The instructor’s writing some useless, humdrum shit on the board. Some formula, which is pointless. I’d just like to close my eyes. I’d just like to give up. But I can’t, I’m fucked. I’ve got to listen, retain this information.

I do it because I have to. I do it because there’s no other way.

You’ve just got to push yourself again and remind yourself, this is the rest of your life. More slaving away. More useless garbage, with a few good, more bad moments. This is your upheaval. This is it. Your life.

The bell rings, people get up. I view all the beautiful women, the organic machines, built by cells, by tissues, by genes, by DNA. Each moment, they’re aging. Each moment, their beauty they’ve got, it’s fading. Right now they’re at their prime. They’re ready to have their brains fucked out

Get to work. Got to make the next generation, so we can keep this going.

Comments (0) | Permalink

The current mood of dilapoid at www.imood.com
banging head harsh against
wall blood oozing out
staining the white
pain tears the sensation
is wild

falling over world spinning
reeling down to unconciousness

dying in the pool of blood
rising above body
exiting out from here

floating up to the sky
higher up with smile on face
that’s heaven up there
so the thought is

moving fast as a star
the speed of light it’s going
quickly by

then it stops
standing on open ground
running hand on the soil

died there
to come here

in the distance
is a city
not too different from
those seen before

with cars roaring on roads
with pedestrians walking on sidewalks
with the hustle and bustle of life

died there
to come here
to live the hell again

so it does go on forever
and this is the closest heaven
to have

Comments (0) | Permalink

Pages (87): [ First ][ Previous ] 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 [ Next ] [ Last ]