?

Log in

Gwen [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Dougey D

[ website | SuperHouse ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

About 9/11, Ten years later [Sep. 11th, 2011|05:27 pm]
Dougey D
[mood |pensivepensive]
[music |The Beatles - Because]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Some people will of course ask "Why even mention it?" The Onion poked fun at the fact that 10 years later, the nation would rather wallow in memory of a bad day than to try to lay it to rest, and I see it the same way. Ten years doesn't hold any special value really. One year or one hundred years don't even matter in the grand scheme of things. It was a confusing day which led to confusing times which led to the confusion we live in now. I think we needed something to snap us out of whatever daze we were in. I'm not sure it had to be something of that magnitude but maybe anything smaller wouldn't have worked.

I'm not sure what was supposed to happen when we were snapped out of our daze, but I feel like maybe it hasn't fully happened yet. I feel like something in my life was put on pause that day. I feel like a lot of the world was put on pause that day. I wish I had been writing before and since that time. I wish there was something palpable to measure.

Really I guess I'm saying I don't like thinking about 9/11 every year. It's something some of us think about every day. So I don't see the use of pointing it out in the media or anything. It's not Christmas. It's not a holiday. It is not a holy day. It was a shitty day on which a lot of people died because of shitty, stupid, unintelligent people. And more unintelligible actions came from it. 9/11 should either be a date or stupid fraction no one should ever use.

But it's not.

-Doug
link1 comment|post comment

Hey! Shelby! [Jul. 8th, 2009|04:35 am]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Phil's]
[mood |Content]
[music |Depeche Mode - Blue Dress]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Shelby will hopefully read this. Hey Shelby! Phil and I picked you up from the airport. Oh dang. It looks like you closed livejournal.

Waste.

-Doug

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

link2 comments|post comment

Weird! X! [May. 17th, 2009|07:37 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Reflective]
[music |Bob Marley & The Wailers - One Love/People Get Ready]

Dear (Your Name Here),

So I'm doing my work thing late this week and an ex came in with her family. This could be awkward, but I'm pretty protected in this section. It's a spot no one really seems to look at.

But then again, do I want to avoid them? Do I want to be avoided? ... Not really. Ironic in a way specifically to this case, I don't want to be in that awkward situation. But that was such a deep part of my personal life. You can't just turn your back on it this way.

Having eaten, I am aware that now is the time to take action. But I'm worried about their feelings. Well, I should do something.

...

Those were an intense few minutes. I actually had to catch them at the door. And it wasn't so bad. But I wish things could have been better.

Things aren't so bad. But I wish they were better. Hmm.

-Doug

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

linkpost comment

Hmph [May. 6th, 2009|08:25 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Worried]
[music |The Unicorns - Les OS]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I feel sleepy a lot of the time lately. It's unnerving. And it's aggravating too. Getting up and doing something fun sometimes feels like a chore. How can I stay motivated with that feeling?

Time gives my head the spins. More and more as it passes by. It's just difficult and scary to think about at times. And when I do, as I did now, I'll occasionally space out and then feel extremely detached from my surroundings in the most basic and most complex of ways. Then I feel like I have to recalibrate my brain or my psyche to feel comfortable again. Some days I can't. And I have to got to sleep knowing that I could quite possibly wake up feeling that way still. I feel like things should feel the most normal when you wake up, so when I feel abnormal upon awakening, I'll feel like my world has lost its foundation. I'll feel like I don't understand what life is like anymore or that all my memory before that point has been a sham.

People tell me to just stop focusing on these thoughts. Why does my mind keep wandering to them? Is it a problem or habitual?

Sometimes I worry that my brain is broken. Forever. It's extremely frightening.

-Doug

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

linkpost comment

(no subject) [May. 1st, 2009|03:54 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Optimistic]
[music |Hedwig - Exquisite Corpse]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Well, so much for doing my evaluations this week. Oh well. My body hurts too much. That's my excuse. And the one time I could come in all week, there were no tables.

So sometimes I wonder if I've become boring. I wonder, if my 16-year-old self could see the way I am now, would I be content? I don't think I would. And as much as I wish that I could just jump back to then and try again, I guess I'll just have to jump the me from then to now and fix everything up. It's time for a new chapter, so I might as well get to writing it. If I ever get enough sleep that is, and if my ribs and back ever stop hurting.

Well it's time to do real work. I'm busy this weekend and I'm loving it. Except the job part.

Actually, I'm loving that too.

-Doug

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

link4 comments|post comment

I keep hitting 'B' instead of 'Spacebar' [Apr. 23rd, 2009|08:51 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Blissful]
[music |Beck - Broken Train]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I'm so done with sitting here and watching people eat. I want to fly around. Or maybe I could live in a world that exists only in sentence fragments.

Ow! My battle scars! I went paintballing for the first time on Tuesday and suddenly all my bruises decided to be really tender. It was too much fun. I have to go again. I heard my co-workers went again without me. Lame.

Every brick in it's place. The crappy The Fray brick has to be at the bottom to support the better bricks. The ugly Toby Keith brick has to be in just the right place to disgustingly compliment the smarter, non-sucky bricks. But too many bricks and they just start to look the same. And who the hell wants to look like Toby Keith brick?

These people should just leave. They need to. So I can leave. Let that be a lesson to anyone who sits in a restaurant. Or anybody doing anything at anytime. Even though you can't see them, and you are unaware of them, know that somebody is probably waiting on you to finish whatever it is you're doing (ultimately nothing) so they can get on with their lives (and ultimately do nothing).

Now they are gone. But I'm still waiting on the bus boy. Man, I'm telling you. I'm getting so sick of waiting around everywhere. On anyone. Not just waiting tables. Waiting in general. Of course, somebody is probably waiting on me.

Getting really sleepy all of a sudden. The food - it was... I've been doped. Man in green sweater. Look for gsirifhehdia....

-Doug

PS - This ending was fictitious. I did get tired, but beyond that it was all a ploy to inject excitement into the reader/a test to see which friends were true enough to try to help me. I might try more endings like this in the future.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

linkpost comment

Crankulus the Veritable [Apr. 11th, 2009|06:42 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Sleepy Bye]
[music |Flight Of The Conchords - Jenny]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I'm very tired today. But it's been very fun so far. Weird looking though. I think whenever I get ultra tired my visual perception seems skewed.

Not too often do I stay in at night these days. It seems to be a bit of an addiction. It would be wise to do that - I could save money and get some rest as well. But Jack Still is in town, and he's leaving tomorrow, so if I don't go hang out with him I will miss out on making fun of / out with him.

But seriously folks, what's the matter with them Irish? Getting their sweat all off their bodies with town newsletters. And with a bird's-eye view of that there island, you'd think it's breaking out with acne, just like those red-headed rascals themselves! Badgers, I say!!

I don't know if that was meant to be funny or to show you how delirious I am. I miss you though. It would be nice to hear from you once in a while.

I'm tired.

-ZzDougzz

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

link3 comments|post comment

A New Dream [Apr. 8th, 2009|09:55 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Content]
[music |Hank Williams - Weary Blues From Waitin']

Dear (Your Name Here),

This work evaluation thing gets so lonely and boring that I think I'll make a habit of updating my neglected blog when I come in.

Life has presented many funny things. Not just recently, but throughout my memory. The saddest thing is that I feel like my memory is not what it used to be. It could be that I'm just older. I could be wrong about it altogether, but I still feel like I can't cherish my life the way I once did because I can't experience the sum of it all the that way I did when I was younger. Ah well.

I had a landmark dream last night. I'm pretty sure I was lucidly dreaming. It's hard to say because it's hard to remember everything I was thinking, but I'm pretty sure this was the case because I know I felt like I was in complete control. And it came to be that way in the most epic moment of my subconcious, surreal life, and, for that matter, real life as well.

It started like any other dream. But then I was in a plane that suddenly became doomed to crash. All the people aboard began to panic, but I, for once, took charge and tried to control the situation. I said to everyone that everyone could be saved and "This doesn't have to be a nightmare." And that's when the dream changed. Now, whether this

*PAUSE - Finally a table!*

was my volition or the plot of the dream I amusingly do not know, but I then jumped out of the plane. In my descent to the ground below, my mind wandered to the speculation I'd heard about that in the dreams in which you are falling, which I'd never had before, you always wake up before hitting the ground. There I was falling for the first time in a dream, and then I thought about Alice in Wonderland and I let myself hit the ground, softly. By that I mean I still felt a quite a jolt, but there was no pain. And then, another first for me, I pushed myself off the ground, into the air, and flew. It was scary and euphoric, realistic but comforting. I could feel the force of the air and the wind and the inertia. I felt like my mind was finally uncaged for the first time in years, as I looked at what should have been above me in a direction that my neck told me was up but what something greater told me was forward. Every movement was the right one; every feeling was intense. I didn't want the feeling to end, but before I chose to wake up, I felt like it was a new beginning, which is a good feeling to wake up to. And I doubt I'll never fly again. And in a way, the experience was so intense that I believe I really did fly.

I could end all of this with a pun, but I choose not to, for once.

-Doug

P.S. - I never landed before waking up.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

linkpost comment

April Fool's Day [Apr. 1st, 2009|03:03 pm]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |Optimistic]
[music |Collective Soul - In A Moment]

Dear (Your Name Here),

So I'm doing evaluations at work with crutches. The only person who knew right away was the manager, and she told a couple people but most of them still believe it. I was thinking about walking right out of here, carrying the crutches, but I'm tempted to just show up tomorrow and see if anybody questions it.

The guy I'm evaluating is taking a really long time to get back to the table and take their order. He's this tall guy who talks kind of like he's faking being from the ghetto but he dresses and keeps his hair like he's really into Metallica. Apparently he's in a band too. I overheard he and one of my managers conversating about it. Sounded lame. How rude of me, but my food is here so I'm concentrating on that. Be right back.

That was tasty. Anyway the guy is pretty nice and all, so I don't know what I was complaining about. I guess I was just grumpy because I hadn't really eaten all day.

So I finished reading Watchmen. And I feel that people hyped it up way too much. Not that it was terrible or bad even, just the way people had been saying "It's the best graphic novel ever," and "It'll blow you out of the water," (even the back cover leads you to think it is miraculous). I'm not going to rip apart or anything, but the story never drew me in. I felt it was predictable, and I felt that I've been told this story before in old sci-fi movies. Now there were a lot of cool things along the way, and those devices, in a way, made it feel like I was reading a comic by a mastermind like Shakespeare. And I feel like I could enjoy it more if I read it a few more times, but after trying to digest it, I don't feel like picking it back up for a while. And maybe I'll like it much more whenever that may be. Just for the right reasons, and not because a random guy at Kerbey Lane told me it's the best book I'll ever read.

I'm starting to get extremely bored. Time to trick someone new.

It worked. Sheesh I never knew fooling people was so easy. Oh yeah, I forgot that I totally knew how easy it was. That's why I do it all the time. Well time to get back to never playing guitar again for the rest of my life.

Happy Anniversary GG and Pops!

-Another Fool

linkpost comment

Blocks [Mar. 3rd, 2009|12:13 am]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Colf Feet Town, Uruguay]
[mood |Tired]
[music |Creedence Clearwater Revival - Who'll Stop The Rain]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Wow. Today was a sicky day. I had said at some point last night that to me the only thing worse than not getting enough sleep the night before work is sleeping in too late on your day off. I'm not certain if this is absolutely true but I'm seriously starting to regret every wasted day and opportunity that comes my way by way of not getting anything accomplished. It's annoying to live in dull redundancy.

I feel that something isn't right about my lifestyle. Well enough of that.

There are buttercups on a chartreuse meadow. The wind is quiet and gentle, but it is definitely there. There is a thick calmness in the air, and while there are no sounds of cars or industrialized society, there is still an atmosphere of comfortable company, as if one could feel as secluded as he wanted but still find that he is not alone if the need to arose. The smoothness of the landscape is unreal. There are no unsightly blemishes of soil ruining the grass, no weeds or fungi sapping life from the trees, just enough clouds in the picturesque blue above. Any inconvenience in temperature can be solved by moving to the shade of a great oak if the heat is too much, or rolling into the sunny lawn if the wind chills. It is a great place to escape to on any given day, but someone is blocking the way.

That was just a flowy.

-Doug

linkpost comment

Money money money [Feb. 26th, 2009|01:56 am]
Dougey D
[Tags|]
[mood |indifferentindifferent]
[music |Elvis Costello - Less Than Zero]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I'm having trouble deciding what to do with my money lately. The problem is that I don't know when I'll have more. Maybe I should just be saving all of it, especially during these weird times. But life can just get so dull these days. I feel like I need to make changes to progress forward with anything. It seems there's a number of ways to do that without spending money right away, but somewhere along those roads money comes into play. It's enough to drive a person crazy, all that money stuff.

Whatever, it doesn't really matter I guess. When I think about it, they're right when they say life is like a game. Life is a lot like a game of Monopoly; it's really long (some would argue it lasts too long), it gets convoluted and unfair, nearly everybody loses, and everybody hates the winner. Oh yeah and it all revolves around money.

Why is it that I love playing Monopoly but life really sucks?

-Doug

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

linkpost comment

Fear. Comfort. [May. 5th, 2008|12:45 am]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Home]
[mood |numbnumb]
[music |Paul McCartney - Junk]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I have never felt so trapped in my entire life. Everything I can think of is just another cage. Well, almost everything I can think of is a cage, or a very dense, thick, slimy, clear liquid in which I'm sunk deep below, trying to swim somehow to the surface that I can barely see. I assume that didn't make a lot of sense but it did to me. But every day I wake to is a longer, less hopeful moment breaking the sometimes blissfully dreamless sleep that takes me away from the awareness of obligations. Maybe that's why the universe is so large, why infinity is impossible to conceive - the obligations of every living thing and every non-living thing are far too many to be ethereal and intangible. So they manifest themselves physically into the force of a vacuum, into a lack of space, or into dark matter.

That's getting too far-fetched and too far from the point I was making, so never mind. I mean only to say that it's a depressing thing sometimes to try to escape from stress only to realize that everything takes up some of the precious, little time one is given; that everything to be done requires something else, which requires something else, and something else, until at the end of the day all the potential energy has been stolen and wasted and is forever absent from one's body; that even the joys of life have their sly, deceitful ways of eating at the soul and spirit.

The whole experience of living feels like I'm being taught not to care about anything, but that caring is the only sin and it's best not to even care about that. But how I could live my life without batting an eye at a thousand people dying at once or smiling deep in my heart at a million people uniting for ideas and words they cannot feel or see, I feel I'll never know. If nothing brings me joy, then how can I still laugh? But if there is happiness to be sought, why do all my efforts to find it yield decoys or just completely sap at my energy until I find there was nothing to find at all?

What I'm getting at is... I guess I'm forgetting how to... be happy. It may be more complicated than that, or perhaps it's as simple as that, but I can't say for sure because at this time in my life, it's getting hard to express how I feel. As if this body I'm trapped in is started to rust, or life is starting to harden and constrict my spirit, or... something else.

The escape plan for the past few months in my life, perhaps almost the past year or so, is to always be doing something that doesn't involve just myself, that distracts me entirely, and to do whatever else it takes to not think about these matters. I could almost say for sure that throughout my life a sadder, quieter Doug has come and gone in my life as he pleased, that at some point last year I found out how to lock him out, and that I assumed he was starving and freezing to death and would grow weaker and easier to deal with in case he ever managed to come back. But now it feels as though I've been unintentionally feeding him my problems by nonchalantly ignoring them and he's been growing stronger and more overbearing while I was ignoring him. And that he's trying to come back in. This sprained ankle doesn't help either.

Joys. Happiness. Wagons. Power-wheels. Animals. Blue. Hero. Sacrifice. Reward. Anonymous gifts. Wrapped up warmly in the cold. Always faster. Only brighter. Eternity, when chosen. Music. Children. Peace. Deafening silence. Permeating noise. Memories. Reliving.

-Doug
link4 comments|post comment

Something's Coming [Feb. 1st, 2008|06:49 pm]
Dougey D
[mood |optimisticoptimistic]
[music |Daft Punk - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Prepare! Be aware! Make all necessary adjustments to your life to comply with the reality that things are going to be different soon.

I can feel it happening.

-Doug
link3 comments|post comment

Here he comes. [Dec. 10th, 2007|02:27 am]
Dougey D
[mood |crappycrappy]
[music |The Beach Boys - In My Room]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Sometimes all I want to do is yell something specific at specific people. I always know the people, because I'm looking at them. The problem is I never know what that specific thing to yell at them is. And after I yell it, who's to say I won't change my mind 10 seconds later?

Truth is, I usually have some message I'm yelling to people at the top of my lungs, whether it's good or bad. But I never let it out. You can probably tell from my eyes.

Even if I could psychically yell at you, who's to say you would even psychically listen? It depresses a person when he is afraid if and how he will be heard.

Speed Racer trailer. Is escapism worse than ignorance?

-Doug
linkpost comment

Mmmkay [Nov. 4th, 2007|06:49 pm]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Home]
[mood |restlessrestless]
[music |The Beatles - I'm Looking Through You]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Is there really any reason to say or do anything ever? Eventually everything I do will fade into obscurity like the ripples of a pebble dropping in the ocean.

But it would be kind of cool to be the pebble.

-Doug
link2 comments|post comment

A thought [Sep. 21st, 2007|02:41 pm]
Dougey D
[mood |blahblah]
[music |The Offspring - Gone Away]

Dear (Your Name Here),

A thought. What a strange thought to think about. Something infinitely strong as it is weak. And even due to its very being. For a thought has limitless potential in its conception, like the singularity before the Big Bang. It could concern any one thing, in any amount of detail, in any context, in any extreme, and in any level of importance in the grand scheme of things. However, to what concern are the conditions? Technological, philosophical, scientific, and practical history may shape a thought in part or entirety. Opinion has a role, as does perception, and secondary reconception, or previous preconception. An idea can fall flat to another, or tower above, or rival against something thought of at the same or any other time. And paradoxically, an idea can fall at the hands of a fact. In the history of storytelling, deus ex machinas have been supported or refuted scientifically and historically. Theories have been embraced, ridiculed, abandoned and expounded upon. Proven or disproven. Therefore, which is stronger: a thought or a fact?
Storytelling surfaces in painting, and painting evolved. Some painting methods are weak and insubstantial while some are more difficult and longer lasting. One painter or songwriter or theorist took a leap and tried something new. Others imitated the thought or idea because it was proven to be effective, true, a fact. One could determine how the idea was feasible. In this way, thought leads to fact, but does that deny the prior existence of the latter? Was gravity not there before Newton gave it a name? Do oxygen and water exist merely to be consumed by life? When does a thought become an idea? And then a practice? And then a routine, instinct, muscle memory?
A thought and a fact are similar and dissimilar. A thought can be real or imaginary, like whatever difference there is between a vision and dream, and it can be a perpetual supply of potential energy. It can be interpreted in infinite numbers or misinterpreted or even partially interpreted due to flaws of communication. A fact can be equally imaginary, or equally misinterpreted, and can stretch on to infinity, like the decimals in Pi (3.14...) or the elusively accurate perfection of a circle, or even the boundaries and concepts of a simple straight line. Just as a spectrum can't exist without two extremes, and as time cannot exist without space (or vice versa), thought and fact are at a stalemate. For facts produce laws, and laws provide a realm and a substance and a brain to perceive a fact. But is a fact anything more than a thought?

Now for something seemingly unrelated. Ponder this:
This very statement is a lie.

-Doug
link2 comments|post comment

When trees have no leaves... [Sep. 7th, 2007|02:31 am]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Home]
[mood |crushedcrushed]
[music |Muse - Starlight]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I never use this thing anymore. It just never crosses my mind to come to this website because it's like it stopped existing. That kind of sucks, especially when I have a lot on my mind. But like writing it down ever did anything for me in the past. It's a solemn rage. It's an angry depression. It's a frustration so engulfing that I can hardly feel my heart beat anymore. Sometimes I wonder if it does beat all day long, for there are moments when I feel so lifeless that I just wonder if I'm not part of somebody else's dream that they're having while they're dreaming, and maybe within a dream on top of that. Would such a manifestation have a heartbeat 24/7? Would it use LiveJournal? Would it see patterns, try and change them, or just be part of them? Am I really in purgatory? Is this actually like a videogame, and I'm supposed to wander around fields as I would in some tedious RPG until I find a trinket or a key that will shoo my problems away and help me beat this overwhelming boss (or, more to my dismay, this mini-boss) named "Failure"? Why is the world trying to simplify things when they only become more complicated, regardless if you touch them or not? Why is there a side of almost every house that just doesn't grow anything; no grass, no trees, no life, nothing? Why do we do things like mow the lawn or eat or make money or cheer ourselves up? When will anyone see anything for what it really is? Why do we try at the wrong things? Why do we speak of the wrong things? Why is it that things need to be heard? Why do we think some things should not be heard or spoken of? Why didn't you see me? Where are we in the galaxy, or universe, or realm of reality? Isn't it funny that babies look calmly at mobiles, which in a way represent systems and ideas we'll never understand? Why do we search for the root of an answer and leave the tree for someone else to explore (or cut down)? How am I efficient at typing when the formation of letters on the keyboard seem completely foreign to me? Is there really a tomorrow or future since time is so arbitrary? Why did I type all this and why are you reading it? Why does the sun still shine but I sense it not in my eyes, nor my heart, nor my soul? Why personify a person if they're the composition of particles? Why break down a person into particles if they have a soul? I must go for I am hungry. What did I tell you? It didn't work.

-Doug
link2 comments|post comment

Thinking [May. 31st, 2007|02:37 pm]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |anxiousanxious]
[music |Citizen Cope - Brother Lee]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I think a lot of things. I wish I could still come up with random crazy ideas like in the first entries on my journal, although these days I don't know what I'd do with them. I could write a book, like a nonsense novel or a fantastical, multi-dimensional adventure story. I could write a movie or something. But do I really want to commit to that? I mean I could always start on it and then give up, but then I would forever have to live with the thought that I gave up on something that could have gone somewhere. Not to say that I'm a born writer, but anything could go somewhere. I could be walking down the street and randomly kick a rock and then BAM! I hit a foreign king in the head and kill him and have to take his throne, or just the right people see I'm a natural rock kicker that could easily win rock kicking in the Olympics, or I could kick it into a radioactive waste bin and be bombarded by rock radiation so that I become rock man, or I could break my toe and go to the hospital.

See? ANYTHING can happen. ALL of that was COMPLETELY possible and TOTALLY plausible.
CAPITALIZATION.

-Doug
link2 comments|post comment

SuperHouse at the Red Eyed Fly [May. 29th, 2007|03:53 pm]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Work]
[mood |calmcalm]
[music |Donna Lewis - I Love You Always Forever]

Dear (Your Name Here),

WHEEEEEE!

SuperHouse tonight. Red Eyed Fly 9:30 PM.
All ages. I heard they're really good. And by "they're" I mean "we're". And by "heard" I mean "prophesized". And by "I" I mean "God". And by "good" I mean... "photogenic and sexy".

So come on down and get sezy wit us.

-Doug
linkpost comment

Long time [May. 25th, 2007|12:35 am]
Dougey D
[Current Location |My room]
[mood |morosemorose]
[music |The Beatles - Something]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Well, I went a whole year without writing in this thing. Sure, it started out by me forgetting about it, for probably four months. At that time I just decided to go for a year and see how huge the change would be. In the end, a lot of things happened that I wish I could have gotten off my chest, things I wish I could have talked about and things which changed me.

When I think about it, I guess my life isn't the way I'd like it to be. I mean for the past few months I kept thinking, "Who cares? We're not meant to live life the way we want." But thinking from the perspective of a year ago, my life is very ... watered down. It's like a day-in, day-out sort of thing that I loathe. I mean I can see the places I want to go, the things I want to do, the work I want to accomplish, but it seems like there's no path to any of them. Does that mean that I shouldn't envision those things anymore?

What do we do about anything? Why must people have a wall of stubborn dark matter imprisoning their reason? I can see the way things should be, I can even think of ways to get there, but because of the fact that people will just do whatever they want to do and it's not my place to say, "No, that's just wrong," I just sit and watch things get worse. And a lot of these problems trap me in the process.

It makes me want to run away, be someone else, be in a coma... or at least disappear.

So if anyone was waiting on reading this, I'm sorry about coming back as a huge downer. But that's the way life goes sometimes.

-Doug
link4 comments|post comment

A Brighter Summer Ahead [May. 24th, 2006|12:55 am]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Home]
[mood |relaxedrelaxed]
[music |The Hives - Declare Guerre Nucleiare]

Dear (Your Name Here),

You Me & Greg just had a very successful show this past Saturday. I'm sorry that I didn't advertise it really at all on LJ, but no one else could have come to it anyway. The good news is that it went really well, but maybe our show only went well because the 50 people who were in the audience were all bad judges of comedy, all 50 of them ... whatever that means. Anyway, we have another show this Friday at 10 PM and three more in June, including another sketch show. I promise your attendance won't go unappreciated.

I realize that there is a lack of forgiveness in the world, even within my circle of friends and acquaintances. Not to say that I have mastered the concept, but I am probably more experienced with it than the average person my age, and, from this case, a lot of my seniors. At any rate, hypocritical or not, I can recognize a situation where modest forgiveness or even indifference is a simple solution to a ridiculous problem. Last Friday, for instance, I blew up at Phil in a fit of stress due to some things he said to me, but he was very quick to forgive me so a silly dispute wouldn't get in the way of our show. And I'm glad Phil forgave me... but I doubt my advice will be taken. After all I'm pretty immature.

As for summer plans, I hope to get a second job, hopefully somewhere with a friend. I also plan to write sketch, write music, read, work on comedy and acting, sing my throat away, complete film projects with YMAG, reacquaint myself with friends, and get acquainted with some friends in the northeast. Natasha gets to be on-stage in New York, I get to see her, and she gets to see me green with envy.

Oh dear, I appear to be too tired to continue.

-Doug
link4 comments|post comment

Light-hearted Slump [May. 4th, 2006|03:27 am]
Dougey D
[mood |blankblank]
[music |Sigur Rós - Track 1]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Right at this moment I feel cruddy again. I feel like there's all this weight and pressure in my chest. My head feels like it's not there, but my neck feels strained. There's this feeling of built-up tears in my eyes, but I have no reason to cry. It could be from a number of things, but I put the blame on my sleep schedule for being so screwed up, or my keyboard for being broken. I'm also very hungry but I have no way to commence eating.

Suddenly I fear having to pack up all of this crap and take it home. The big things are nothing; it's the little things I keep around that I don't want to move, because they're so tedious. And although I loathe this place, I don't want to go home. Bad things are waiting there.

I know exactly where I want to be - Texadelphia. ... Not really.

I think I need to stop thinking so much. Thinking too much makes me depressed and paranoid, and that doesn't do a lot of good, like when it comes to being a fun person to talk to or a good boyfriend. It helps my comedy sometimes, to let it all out and laugh at my thoughts. Maybe that's the release I need - to just laugh and have a good time, maybe performing (in a You Me & Greg show on May 20th at 8 PM). I feel better when I'm around a certain lemur Natasha but we are going through time constraints that are only going to get worse until August.

I think the solution is simple. I need to eagerly await X3: The Last Stand, 22 days away. And then Spider-Man 3 a year later.

That'll work.

-Doug
link3 comments|post comment

I don't remember what I came here to say. [Apr. 8th, 2006|04:22 am]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Dorm]
[mood |exhaustedexhausted]
[music |DougeyD - Idea 18]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Apparently, I'm supposed to go to wikipedia and put in my birth date but not the year. Then I have to post it in my LJ with three neat facts, three births, and three deaths!


Events

  • 1942 - World War II: The Naval Battle of Guadalcanal between Japanese and American forces begins near Guadalcanal, will last for three days.

  • 1980 - The NASA space probe Voyager I makes its closest approach to Saturn.

  • 2004 - Scott Peterson is found guilty of first degree murder of his wife Laci Peterson and their unborn son Conner after a five-and-a-half month long trial.


Births

  • 1493 - Bartolommeo Bandinelli, Italian sculptor (d. 1560)

  • 1934 - Charles Manson, American cult leader and mass murderer

  • 1944 - Booker T. Jones, American musician, singer, and songwriter (Booker T and the MG's)


Deaths

  • 607 - Pope Boniface III

  • 1976 - Walter Piston, American composer (b. 1894)

  • 2001 - Tony Miles, English chess player (b. 1955)



YAY! Charles Manson is my birthday buddy!

-Doug
link2 comments|post comment

Correctamundo! [Apr. 5th, 2006|07:05 pm]
Dougey D
[Current Location |Natasha's Room]
[mood |accomplished]
[music |Black-Eyed Peas - My Humps]

Dear (Your Name Here),

I was right! There was a fourth Superman movie! Take that, whoever-said-I-was-wrong!

But if I can't even remember who said that the Superman series stopped at Superman III, I can't be sure that they'll read this.

My mission to you, dear reader, is to tell everyone you know that there was a Superman IV: The Quest for Peace, and that I was right. If someone responds, "No way. I guess I was wrong," then that's probably the one, and you can either tell me who it is and let me do my victory dance or go make candles.

-Doug
link1 comment|post comment

Historic Event [Apr. 5th, 2006|01:02 pm]
Dougey D
[mood |lazylazy]
[music |The Beatles - I Feel Fine]

Dear (Your Name Here),

Well, this is sort of an historic event. It only happens every 100 years. But Natasha brought it to my attention that today, right now, it is 01:02:03 04-05-06. CRAZY!

-Doug
link6 comments|post comment

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]