A · is · for · Apathy

I leave for boot camp in about six days. It's weird, I'm excited to leave Quantico, relieved I won't see most of these people ever again, or any of these places. I'm scared to leave my mom, more afraid of her being so heart broken of seeing another son sign his life away to an uncaring military. I don't think about boot camp as much as people ask me about it. In fact, the thought fades before their question is even finished. What really excites me, what I really look forward to, is a weekend just four days two months from now that makes two months of anything worth it. It's probably going to be a relatively quiet set of nights, and a relatively boring set of days to anyone else. Well, as boring as things get in Vegas. Nights and days unimportant to anyone but us. A cross country road trip planned and all I care about is one stop. Twenty-one days of traveling for just four. My English major nerd of a girlfriend is probably correcting all of this quicker than I can think of it.

Basic Training is easy, getting through the days without you is real pain. You cunt.

Current Location:	A secluded, well lit room in a house of darkness.
Current Mood:	tired
Current Music:	Swollen Members - Prisoner of Doom

   I'm not real big into sports, so going to a Capitols game was just sort of a thing to do to get out on a Friday night as opposed to staying in and playing too many video games than are good for me. But in the end the trip into DC, watching the game, and the trip itself was pretty fun. I actually got into the game a bit and was excited when the Caps broke their nine game losing streak(something I was pretty much indifferent to before the game.) There were not a lot of good hits but the goalie made some nice saves. While the Caps only hit near the goal once every three shots, the Maple Leafs were hitting it at the goal non stop. Luckily, Olie blocked all but one, sweet deal.
   After the game we headed back on the metro, after deciding ten bucks for a burger was not as good of a deal as it sounded. We decided Springfield didn't have shit for cheap food and headed towards Woodbridge. I had heard from some dumb bitch that Denny's was a fantastic place to eat late at night. It sounded good to everyone else, and Traver knew where one was near Potomac Mills. So we hit that bitch up for some breakfast at around 12AM. Now, our waiter was nice, the restaurant was clean, and the food was great(more on that later), but for some reason leaving a dollar tip seemed like I was being generous. Oh I know why, probably because we waited forty-five fucking minutes for our food. That's right, forty five minutes, we could have left, found a McDonald's, ordered, eaten, gotten gas, and come back before our food was there. I could have watched an entire Mitch Hedberg comedy routine and still had a couple minutes to reflect, I could have played a full game of Rainbow Six, I could have made a longer list of things I could have done with what seemed like an inordinate amount of time. At first I thought the wait just seemed long, you know? The fact that I hadn't eaten in twelve hours can sort of extend time when waiting for food. But no, after a grueling period of waiting we all checked out cell phones to find that, yes, we were indeed waiting for forty odd minutes. Fuck. By the time the waiter(a quite hefty man who was as quiet and courteous as he was large) I was chewing on my knife, probably with a vaguely angry look, I feel sort of bad since it wasn't his fault but I was dissatisfied by the situation, not by him.
      By the end though, I was content. I had french toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and a hash brown. It was the most delicious brinner ever. I doubt it was the fact that I hadn't eaten in twelve hours that made it so delicious. It was just delicious beyond delicious. I tried to slow my eating but I couldn't cleaned my plate except for a small portion of french toast. I walked out full and finally got home and slept at nearly 2AM. It was good. Awesome.

Current Mood:

mellow

This is what I wrote this morning after I woke up:
      We were going on a picnic with our family and Allan's family, somehow we wall squeeze into his dually and head out of what felt like our home and neighborhood but what now seems like a foreign place. We crossed some river and we're in some other neighborhood, he had to turn around in some pasture beside the house to get to the drive way, a pasture that was lined with barbed wire. His truck obviously could make the turn but for some reason the entire time he ran the front end along the wire, hitting two poles through the turn. When we got out some guy who was insanely familiar to me, it's only insane when you think about the fact that I've never seen this man before, he was a complete figment, went into this yacht he had been apparently telling me about "all week." Everything was wrong with it, the inside of it looked more like a truck cab with seats that were half the length of usual, and more of them. He talked about the back seats being too small, and that he put wicker on them but that didn't stop the piss. (It made so much more sense in the dream.) Did I mention that what I assume was the family of the house we pulled up to, nobody acknowledged them and all of them were naked except one lady. I remember this lady because as the boat launched down this poor excuse for a Dr. Seuss rendition of a boat ramp (It was more like a slide) she stepped onto the track and we steered the boat off the ramp and into the water. In the air the boat flipped and went under. I remember thinking about how I was about to drown because I had buckled in. However, swimming to the surface out of my restraints was one of the easiest feats imaginable. When I hit the surface of the water, after swimming upward and watching the boat disappear into the abyss, I was standing in shallow water.

     What happened next was a series of events that I am incapable of finding the meaning of, and was hard to follow. It starts with me cutting to my computer in my "house" (I put it in parentheses because it was obviously my house at the time, but once again resembled no house I ever lived) I found a video on some bastardized dream version of YouTube. It was some movie with Lizzy McGuire (anyone know who this is, the name was stated in the dream) pasted onto the damsel in distress. For some reason I found it hilarious and sent it over another bastardized version of a real website: MySpace. I left a comment on a special someone's page thinking she'd find it equally funny, but for some reason that same movie carried emotional connotation as well; an inside joke within the dream maybe, or some reference that was similarly never heard or seen. My mom made a comment about seeing some creatures in the movie, as I was now watching it on the big screen in our actual living room. They were weird, inhuman things that crawled and melted. The movie cut off and my brother and I are at a restaurant. This lady tells us to follow her after some uneventful conversation at a table. She told us to follow her into the men’s room, for some reason it was logical that women could use the men’s room but men could go near the women’s. When we entered the men’s room it appeared this lady wasn't actually a lady at all, she was sculpted or molded out or marble or porcelain, it was pristine white with little cracks everywhere, they had a dingy yellow color around all the cracks. It sounds as if it looked dirty but it was actually quite normal looking. I remember never being able to definitely look at her head to see if she had hair. I think she was bald, a smooth marble dome. Anyway, she talks to me and my brother about some job that's never mentioned. Somehow conversation leads to me failing English and I'm no longer qualified. I should mention mid conversation some strange man joins our group but just stands there the whole time, not saying anything. He was another problematic detail; I could see nothing about him, especially his face. After I find I'm disqualified for this "fabulous job" I'm asked to leave, but before I went we all introduce ourselves, the man never says his name, and neither does she. I enter the restaurants and somehow a food fight has burst on the scene. I must have entered twice because the second time I came in there were tables of embalming fluid towards the front of the restaurant, and people were stealing them or knocking them over. When I first return I walked around the food fight while eating toast. Entering the second time and noticing the embalming fluid, I made some witty remark. I remember many faces there including some old British guy, Charity, and a waiter I remember seeing earlier. About the time I make my witty remark Charity opens an bottle of embalming fluid, it's now apparent they're all homes to infant deer and opening the jar it leaps away to the back of the restaurant. While I watch the deer run to the glass wall, and then leap straight up it, out of site, I remember somebody strongly resembling John James Muir reciting some lesson in something, and asking Charity, who responded casually despite certain events taking place, questions about embalming fluid.(Apparently it's a slow working fluid and that deer had more time before it would be embalmed). We end up chasing the deer around, and for some reason constructed we called the tank, it was a chair leaned back at an extreme angle and whoever sat in it held a long stick with a cat and a basket on the other end, which was our trump card against this leaping or flying deer.

     By the time we chased the deer up a flight of stairs and cornered it another length of dream started. I'm telling all of this because they’re intertwined somehow. What happened in the next part I could only reason was meant to happen today, and I'll explain why afterwards. I check my computer to find that the aforementioned special someone has checked her MySpace and responded. We strike up a conversation but things get weird. Again we aren't using regular programs, but some dream version of AIM. I'm not talking to her long before her messages become cryptic, hard to explain, and our conversation becomes riddled with away messages that have no meaning, are several pages long, full of colorful and size shifting text, and strange images. She interrupts our important conversation to listen to the Cure and we switch between phone and AIM constantly, sometimes I call and her phone is off but we're talking on AIM. I keep getting interrupted by strange screen names I've never talked to but are somehow connected to dear friends I talk to all the time. But what made this all so frantic? She was in town and I desperately wanted to see her but she was leaving town in three days to go to a funeral, even though she had planned for a full week. She refused to stop by today, I invited her to the mall, she wouldn't go, I asked her to go to school with me tomorrow to pal around, she declined, I was confused and hurt. She said at least we saw each other yesterday. Yesterday? Reference to a day that never happened! It isn't uncommon in a dream but in the dream I didn't remember. She said we were so surprised to see her show up after all but I had yearned to see her face for a year or more. She said at least we got to dance, but I hadn't felt her soft skin or her warm embrace in so long. I felt insane, when did this happen, why couldn't I tell her I don't remember? She posted a list of 5 things she hated in a relationship, more a of a chain letter than a definitive, personal list. The words were bold and had explanations but they shifted mid way through. Confusion and panic made it impossible to register anything; I felt she was trying to tell me something. I always checked the time, hours crept by, she quoted a conversation with her mom but it was no substance, random dribble, I couldn't make anything out, at seven o'clock my dad walked in and started yelling at me. I was depressed confused, I felt abandoned; I partly felt I abandoned her. I woke up in panic, confusion, and depression. My eyes were leaking for a minute for no reason I could find in my mind.

     I later realized, afterwards, several odd details of this long and tangled dream. I realized that that last leg of the dream, was supposed to happen today. The day she was referencing? Yesterday. Why was I always checking the clock, and why did I invite her to the mall? I'm going today to go get soccer cleats, they close at like eight. Why did my dad walk in out of nowhere and begin to yell? He had just come back from North Carolina with my mom, they've been gone all weekend, and my brother and I wouldn't be able to make it to the mall on time. I didn't remember the day because it was yesterday, and I didn't see her yesterday, it would have been impossible. The closing length of this dream and the realization that it referenced actual events or tried to, made the experience entirely surreal and confused the hell out of me when I woke up.

Added later:
    Last night I had a sort of panic attack after feeling a bit ill and having a small pain where I was recently informed my appendix lies. It wasn't the nausea or the mild discomfort of the area that sent me into that short fear driven state, it was the pointing out that those symptoms were signature for appendicitis, you know, when your appendix explodes and kills you? Yeah, that little thing. I can deal with pain, blood maybe not so much, but pain I can handle. Signs of a greater illness that may lead to my imminent demise? No. I'm well aware or my mortality, however, I simply don't want to die right now. I know she meant the best when she brought it up, it's not really her fault I panic and am paranoid about internal illness. I hated going to bed so early and I apologized, but I wasn't feeling up to staying up, especially when I'm only concentrating on that. Her empathy was appreciated though, and made getting to sleep a little easier. This morning the panic seemed like stupid, I felt fantastic and consumed mass quantities of waffles and chocolate milk. It was delicious. I was great, and everything felt fine. Fast forward to now, mild stomach pains and a returning discomfort to the area. Increased concern from my mom led to a second panic attack mid-nap, I distinctly remember thinking "I don't want to die right now." Talking to no one really and I realized how much harder it is to deal with fear when you don't have an omnipotent being to pray to. It made me think that I might be alone to face this fear, but I realized I have a caring girl for empathy, a mom for care, and my brothers and dad for strength if anything happens. I'm glad I'm not alone, I'm glad she cares, I'm glad I have a family to help me.

Maybe we're both being overly dramatic.

Current Mood:	confused
Current Music:	Silence of an almost empty house

I got to sleep in a little late today, it was a two hour delay. Even after that the classes seemed to drag on oh so slowly. I felt exhausted at the end of the day. The only plus was that I've gotten to Chapter 10 in The Bell Jar, which is proving to be an interesting book. I've got this eerie feeling I can relate it to somebody I know and love, which is kind of actually what she said would happen. Actually she said I'd might come away with a better picture, which is true it seems.

I said I was going to execise today... but it's getting later and I'm still sitting here.

Yeah so I finished the study guide thank god. I spent too much time on that and not enough time on the phone with someone special. Oh well, guess I'll have to make it up with a little bit of silence when I visit.

Current Mood:	sore
Current Music:	Sweet silence of a dead morning.

So, let's get on to the mindless consumerism, that is, what I ordered and what I thought of each:

Complete Control - Reaction this is the greatest CD I've bought to date. I've always loved the band when I heard them about two years ago, and had a hard time scrounging up what I could find by them on the net. Finaly, I was given the chance to buy their CD and I jumped at the chance. While the Vicious Ones 7" would have been a kickass collectors item(and a bit cheaper), buying the CD would wield more content, and in a more convenient package. One I could listen to outside of the house. Anyway, this is a hard-hitting, adrenaline pumping album that jumps to break neck speeds and doesn't slow down. Kickass.

The Unseen - State of Discontent I actually bought this one because me and Levi listened to it al lthe time, so I figured I'd get my own copy to jam out to. This is a great buy, and includes a fuckin crazy cover of Paint It Black. Other favorite songs on this album are Scream Out and Social Damage. This CD is a bit pop-ier than their older stuff, but they still got it in them.

Aus-Rotten: ...And Now Back To Our Prgramming Okay, there's just one thing I have to say about this album: Bad-fucking-ass. Aus-Rotten are the masters of blistering speeds, political messages, and a good freakin' deal. When you order this CD it ships caseless but it comes wrapped in two things, besides an aura of kickass, a Crass-style black/white fold out poster. And, an issue of Slug and Lettuce. All three of these things rocked, and when put together they made the best deal out of the whole order.

Agnostic Front - Dead Yuppies Honestly, the only reason I got this particular CD, is because Something's Gotta' Give was sold out. But that's not to say that this, or any other, CD by these guys is some how inferior, or not as good of a deal. I just happen to like Something's Gotta' Give a bit more, and it has my favorite Agnostic Front song(Gotta' Go). Okay, besides that, this CD rocks just as hard. Really, there is no slowing down for these guys, and certainly no beating about the bush. As the CD says "Turn it up loud, muthafucker." By the way, this song is great for cruising down the highway at 1AM(more on that later.)

Loud Fast Rules! Issue #4 This magazine is a STEAL. Four bucks for 200+ pages, and a free 29 track CD. Usually you pay about five to ten bucks for each of those seperate. To get both for less is just sick. The CD is a compilation of various bands, a cornocopia(sp?) of different sounds and styles, but all or most of them sound great. The 'zine itself is just awesome. It's got interviews for I don't know how many bands, and a couple from people who worked with bands( like the creator of http://www.dp-77.com/ ). It's really refreshing to see so much content in an age full of magazines that want to sell you something every other page, especially for so little. I recomend this and all past and future issues. They don't dissapoint.

HeartAttaCk Issue #48 For $0.25 how can you turn an issue of this down whenever you make an order? But cost isn't the only reason you should by these 'zines. They're so full of articles, reviews, and letters that you'd be willing to pay ten times the price. What can I say about this? Not much more because I haven't finished reading it yet! Thumbs up to these guys.

    And that's just the start of the week! Last night Lee, Billy, and I went to see Apothysis, Vanquish, Tetryl, and... this other band. You'll hear more about them later. Here's how the night started: We show up and chill with Tetryl out front of the place(The Bourbon Room), because the show started at 9 and we got there around 8:40-ish. We just chill out and listen to Slayer while the underaged members of Tetryl sneak beers and run to the back of the bar to get stoned. As 9 o'clock starts to roll around we help them take their gear upstairs. Once the gear is up we have a seat in the bar as the first band just starts up.
    That other band was up first, and while they weren't that great(or skilled) I have to give them tons of credit for just getting up there and playing. Everyone was really encouraging to them and got into it when they started to rock(it was far inbetween, and never lasted long) but I think if they try they'll get something good going.
    Net up was Vanquish. While they were setting up we saw that they were setting up a keyboard. This looked like it was going to be some prog-rock shit. Now, about this time, I had to take a monstrous piss. So I leave them to set up(they took a good fifteen minutes or so) and head to the shitter. It's here I notice two things: Firstly, they have the smallest shitter on earth. I was glad that I was just goin' 1 because my ass would not have fit on that tiny thing. I also notice a Strap-Ons sticker and kick myself in the ass. The Strap-Ons, if you didn't know, was the original name of Complete Control. I missed Complete Control sometime. Damnit.
    Also at about this time, a little before actually, the slut sisters showed up. And I feel the need to mention this because I've always dismissed the idea of sluts, and groupies(band sluts) to be horribly moronic, immateur, and just plain nasty(skanky). These girls had no self-respect, and while they certainly had what they were flaunting, it was unnecesary and sort of put a dent in the othwerwise sweet night. Also, apparently, they were checking me out. I know, I was shocked too. Yeah anyway, evidently if it weren't for Billy blocking me I would have falled victim to a pair of well endowed succubi.
    Back on track, Vanquish and Apothysis kicked some major ass. Vanquish was one of the only metal bands I've seen in a long time that didn't sing with cookie-monster vocals. And I have to say, it was both refreshing and ass-kicking. Meanwhile, Apothysis brought us to a screeching hault. Not really, but damn could that sing scream. Ironicaly, the tallest front man had the shortest band. The average height of the band(excluding the singer) was an astonishing 5'2". Or about that, anyway, they kicked ass too.
    Okay, finaly, the moment we had all been waiting for(we being the smallest group at the bar as by now every other patron was gone, including the succubi)... the moment Tetryl went on. Just so you know, I've used about as many adjectives as I can use throughout this whole thing. They kicked ass. Really, that's all I can say, and have said, on the matter.

Damnit the end!

Current Mood:	exhausted
Current Music:	Pantera - Fucking Hostile

Actually, after all, this'll just be saving the prompt for later use.

Yeah, so, since this was kind of a waste I'll post a little bit of shit. A while ago I went to the Casualties show. Well, it was sort of a Punk-O-Rama of sorts, with The Unseen, The Casualties, Anti-Flag, and a handful of local bands that we missed because we were running late. But I like to call it the Casualties show because, frankly, they kicked a metric assload of, well, ass. The Unseen were pretty awesome too, but damn The Casualties just took it man. There's nothing better than jumping into the circle mosh while the Casualties churn out Social Security, Punk Rock Love, Tomorrow Belongs to Us, and a handful of other songs.

Ever since the I've wanted two things: To see some more shows, and to start my own band. Unfortunately for me both are very unlikely and one's more unlikely than the other, and you'll be surprised at which. See, there's never any good shows around here, I mean, yeah, I could show up every other Saturday at the 9:30 Club and see whatever asshole band is playing, but it's a lot of effort to get disapointed. I still might do that when I have a car. Damn it.

On the flip side, if me and my brother ever actually sit around we could churn out something kickass. Until we try to get members. Evidently, every person who plays an instrument is flaky as hell and has to be "in the mood" to have band practice. Damn it.

So that's all really have to say. I'm ending this now. Peace.

So, firstly, this was the prompt I was generated:
The theme of this story: serious quest. The main character: religious knight. The start of the story: deception. The end of the story: birth.

Well, I won't worry about a title for this thing and this may just be the start of the story but here it goes, I'll probably quit after half an hour of straight writing or so. Oh and I'll add that I've decided to set the setting in a semialternat reality earth. So don't be expecting no real world ties here(though there may be a few)

     Ezekius entered the grim looking chapel. His armored grieves and steal boots clashed with the cold rocks of the old church's flooring. The gleaming red moonlight split the dark, entering directly behind him through the open door. It projected his massive shadow against the worn pathway towards the tabernacle at the front of the chapel. Slowly and silently a silhouette formed in the open doorway. Ezekius turned to face the new arrival, his robed armor clanking noisily.

     "Brother Felix."

     "It is I Brother Ezekius." Felix responded. His size was dwarfed by Ezekius' armored mass. He stood clothed in a flowing monks robe. The hood was pulled up, covering his face and a simple wooden icon hung from around his neck.

     "Why have you not dawned your armor, did you not say there were heretics about?" Ezekius questioned his comrade's choice of garb as he strode towards him. The clanking of his armored self echoed through the deserted chapel. Ezekius was breathing deeply beneath his steal helm, he stare dat his brother through narrow vision slits.

     "... I did say such..." Felix's speach was distant.

     "...Brother Felix... have you wronged us?" Ezekius put a firm grasp on his sword, sheathed at is hip. He took a step back from his friend.

     "I... I-" Felix was cut short as the church doors slammed shut. Thick wooden doors now locked Ezekius in a lonely abyss.

     "What is this Heresy Felix!? You have betrayed us!" Ezekius slammed stealed fists against the locked doors. Though the wood splintered and cracked the damage was insignificant and the portal remained closed. Meanwhile, the lightless chapel began to fill with a dim glow.

     "He is your brother no more. He has seen the truth and so shall you, templar." A mad voice declared from behind Ezekius.

     "Silence rabble rouser!" Ezekius spun around on his heels and grasped the hilt of his sword. The light was perpetuating from a few dozen crude torches held by the most frayed looking of persons, a mod of twelve or so. They were all draped in assorted tattered rags of clothing and each wielded a crude or improvised weapon of sorts. The man that appeared to be doing all the talking was a lanky man, hunched over from holding a large axe desecrated with strange runes and dripping with the blood of a ritual sacrifice. "Brother Felix is stronger willed that any of you cretens would ever hope to be. Now, repent or prepare to die!"

     "Death's sweet embrace will find you first Templar! Hahahaha!" The mad cackling of the beserk inciter filled the chapel and muted all other sounds of battle that would ensue after his wild claims.

     "May this bring peace to your wretched soul!" Ezekius roared over the cackling as his now drawn sword sliced into one of the heretics wielding what appeared to be a pitchfork. He pulled his sword from the body and swung fully through another. Body parts and abandoned weapons were flung through the air as Ezekius slashed through three more charging bodies. The blood spews splattered his armor and stained the robes that covered his armor. The holy symbols that once adorned his armor and robes became unrecognisable as they were covered in a thick coat of blood.

     "Your fancy swordplay won't save you from everything!" A voice shrieked from behind Ezekius. Was it the ringleader? No! This was a new threat: A shabby old man incased in a runic suit of brass armor holding out his hand and holding a large leather book in the other.

     "Sorceror of the dark power, your treachery is marked!" Ezekius reveled as he cut down two more of the mobbers. However, it seemed as if they were without number as more continued to flow in, flocking out of the shadows. He was not swayed, however, thus far their crude weaponry merely scraped at his hardened carapace as he mercilessly struck them down.

     "Silence false saint!" The sorceror cried and began chanting blasphemous wordings. His hand became a channel through which the dark powers manifested. A shroud of smoke layed across the floor and a burning face screeched through his hand. The face shot out, travelling straight through the zealots, though not without damage, until it impacted upon Ezekius' own armor. As it passed through each cultist they burst into flames and when it finally impacted there was the most brilliant multi-colored flame-ing explosion that lit the entire chapel.

     Ezekius was knocked down to a knee from the strike, his robes now cinders floating through the air. His bare armor was scorched but still withstood. His vision was going blurry as he heard the screaching of the incinerating belligerents fell to the ground around him. Yet he could still hear the rest moving and closing in, and there was still the mad cackling of the rabble-rouser.

End part one? I guess. It was suppose to be a short story but I haven't even ended the begining yet. For the win? Well, I guess I'll have to finish this before I start another. Oh and that was a good hour of writing isntead of half. Oops.

Later

So, friday I went down to Nich's house to see why he skipped school. While there I encouraged him to color his mythical creature for art fancy colors and to paint his statue with a gold paint pen. It kinda ended up all lumpy like. After that me and him played foot ball... with fifth graders. Nich threw them about and I kinda just pushed them over. It was good times. I think I ruined my air force ones. Oh well it was fun.

My foot is recovering from surgery, weee. I saw Saw 2 last night. Fucking bad ass movie. Okay now I'm done.

Huzzah