Insomnia
01/12/2004 11:09 a.m.
Just when you think you’re going to be able to fall asleep.. all these thoughts intrude into your mind.. and worry you awake… all these unanswered questions waiting at the door… and all I can do is ask questions in hope of some answers…

Ah… Insomnia.. has come to visit me once again.. with these inspirations.. but I have shit to do tomorrow.. I have to open a pizza joint at 10 am and I have a campfire in my ashtray… ah.. what a 6am kinda morning…
It’s so cold, I can feel the cold creeping on the floor from the windows… I walked home from work last night.. my nose ran like a cold water faucet.. just waiting to freeze my upper lip to my nose..

I’m such a sucker.. I knew I should have just crawled into bed after I got home from work at 2am.. but no.. I play games till 3.. then crawl into bed.. but no.. no no no.. I can’t sleep.. not now.. not when I have shit to do tomorrow.. and a long boring day at a slack ass pizza shop… I’ll probably fall asleep.. great…

But I guess the good news is, I’m in a writing kinda mood.. now if I can only inspire myself to write some stuff.. I’m in a really weird mood.. Happy I got the job, Devastated over my grandfather… he’s the main reason I can’t sleep… It just destroys me to think that he might not recover from this.. thinking these might be his last days… I pray.. since I can’t perform miracles… His myriad of medical problems is astounding.. he’s like a f’n tank… He’s mos def from the old skool. Built like a shit brick house.. I love the old bastard.. but seeing someone taken down to the notch of not being able to talk or walk or write.. and it pretty much drops you to babylevel.. like you’re not even human anymore.. but you know in the core, the heart.. they are there.. unable to perpetuate what that want or need.. So sad to see someone stumble over the words I love you… three simple words.. but a battle on the lips of the old man… shatters me… he always said he wanted to write a book.. he never got around to it.. I wish he would have… now.. if he doesn’t recover.. it’ll be lost forever.. Maybe I should write it for him…

I don’t know people.. I don’t know what to tell you.. I’m so emotionally drained from this whole experience… it’s shown me a lot about myself.. and about other people.. I’ve done a lot of soul searching these last few months.. trying to figure out what the hell my problem is… with life in general.. and I really think it comes down to the fact that I don’t know what I should live for now.. I used to live for love.. but love is a farce.. Love is what you make it.. Sure you have to work for it.. but right now… Love is mocking me.. and I probably deserve it..
So do I live for Art? I mean I have a lot of ideas for art.. but look at me.. I’m a poser at best..
I know doubting myself is a tragedy.. I should be more headstrong…
People compliment me on my works.. but what the hell… You can’t believe everything you read…

So what do I live for? Life? This joke that’s been placed upon my lips in a drunken stumble?
This on running farce of a lifestyle where I just end up being a computer gargoyle perched to publish another poem..

Yeah.. that’s me.. Your own personal Gargoyle… Pretense to the pounce.. more bounce to the ounce… That’s me..

So I’m gonna go brainstorm and come up with a few love poems.. if I can..

I am currently Tired
I am listening to Ice crean - sarah mc

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Sleepytime's near
01/11/2004 09:22 a.m.
I feel so dis-attached from this world.. Like I used to exist.. but now.. hell now I just feel like a dead man walking.. I don’t get phone calls anymore.. save from like 2 people.. and even those are rare.. It’s not like I’m trying to be rude.. but I guess when you’re broke, you’re options to hang out are pretty few…

Speaking of lack of moolah.. I got a new job, I start Monday.. I don’t know how long it will last, since after all it’s the company that I keep going back to.. I think I’ve worked for them on and off for about 7 or 8 years now… kinda scary, but in a sense, it’s security.. I know the in’s and out’s of that place like no one else.. well.. I used to anyways…and since it’s really hard to get a steady gig as a bartender around here.. I’ll have to just suck it up and take it for what it is… 3 weeks of hard work to get my license back.. then comes the car issue down the road… I’d better just stick to baby steps for now..

I’m also in the midst of making my own little t-shirt company.. but that’s something that will take a while.. and I’m worried about content restrictions… well.. if this site has them anyways…I’ve always dreamed about owning my own t-shirt company… mainly because of my twisted sense of humor.. but I don’t know… We’ll see if I can motivate myself with lack of funds..

I came up with an idea for a blog… I’m thinking about just posting all the conversations I have with people online in a blog.. sense it seems I waste my best stuff talking to my friends… not to mention, I figure it’d give the insight that I can’t describe about myself.. shows you how I think, how I feel.. etc… Well.. if you’d care to know anyways…

I feel a sense of dread about all this.. all these writings, all these glimpses of my soul… these show you everything about me.. You could crucify me with my own words… but hell.. not like it’d matter to me… I never claimed to be gods gift to the written word… more like the worst thing to happen to it..

I’m going to bed…maybe my dreams will inspire me..


I am currently Tired

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Inspired?
01/11/2004 06:19 a.m.
Well.. where do I begin?

It's been a long ass week for me.. Snow's been falling, covering the dirty wet ground in a layer of ice.. Mmmm now there's chunky mud.. my favorite...

Being alone. I'm used to it.. I guess.. I prefer it on the most part.. for the last..umm.. my life I guess.. I've never been alone.. I think I've based my whole personality on other people.. I know it's something we all do, to fit in I guess.. but really.. I don't conform well to anything.. it seems one fo the few things I'm good at..

As for my writing.. I dunno.. I love to write... but the stuff I want to write, isn't held in realms as poetry anymore.. now it's just some free verse ramble that just springs forth from me, like I'm speaking tongues...

I could write you a million poems in a second.. if you wanted them.. but I don’t think you all do... I hate to think I'm wasting my time sitting here.. and that’s really how I've come to feel about my writing these days... depression has long sunk in... and now.. now.. fuck man.. I got a job just to help me forget... and really.. that's all I want to do now.. is forget.. forget this guy named Aaron Howard.. forget this tragic life that I've led.. I just want to run away at this point.. and just leave this life in the gutter with yesterdays trash...

So writing for me now, would just show how sad my life has really become.. and honestly.. You don’t wanna hear about it.. I should know.. I know I don't wanna hear about it..

So what do you wanna hear about anyways? I mean hell.. I write poems in my sleep.. why the lack of content? maybe because now... Now.. I’m not inspired..

I can wander around the web and find beauty everywhere.. I can find it naked sucking off a horse if I want.. but there's no feeling there... Then comes down to my options when it comes to love... which are hell if not anything, Nil.

I love so many different people.. for different reasons... all these people who are my friends, all these girls who talk to me.. what's the point? I love people for their souls, their creativity.. I love them for being them.. so when it comes to loving a woman.. it seems so far off these days.. like it's something I'll never obtain. The sad part is, I don't care...Why share my problems with someone who I'll love?

I called this a long time ago.. I said I'd be the alone guy sitting at the bar... hoping for his chance that never comes... just because I made a mistake...I'm going to have to deal with that for the rest of my life...
and it's so ironic that I called myself out like that when I was like 14...

I've looked for love in so many women's eyes, I can tell a mile away when I'm getting played the fool.. since.. after all.. I played for a long time.. being casual about relationships.. thank you please drive through...

Now? Now I look for love.. and it's a joke.. I can see the games, I can see the tragic drama that unfolds.. and hell.. is it even worth it? I doubt it.

I've found beauty on the web, yeah.. I've found sluts and bitches and liars aplenty... but they all seem fake to me. Like someone is living something that they are not.. and me? Hell.. I know this just means I feel like I'm not living what I'm supposed to.. trying to be someone I'm not.

I'm not a poet... or a writer... I can just type...
and don't expect too much on the spelling either...


Enough about me.. how about you? Have a good new years?
Want a poem written? I could use some subject matter.. I feel like I've written a poem about everything I could at this point...

Maybe I should just have a bonfire in the fireplace and burn up all my old notebooks and poetry... since.. looking in on it now, I think I have posted any poem I really could have thought of up on here... and now.. hell.. now I just feel like pulling the plug.

I swear, I have more mood swings than a pregnant woman…


I am currently Clueless

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I
01/09/2004 06:49 a.m.
I don't know if you've noticed or not.. but I haven't written a poem in a long time.
I guess I should come to terms with it here.. as if any place... but this might get you an understanding..

I used to pump out poems.. pages a time... and now.. I look back on them.. and I see shit. I've worked on so much poetry and now.. looking back..it seems wasted.. I could spend a lifetime reworking them.. crafting them into songs.. or just distill them down to rubbish... but I am truly at a loss now.. I've lost a ton of work that I did as a kid, but that's all bullshit to me now.. I can't even stand reading the new stuff, much less something I wrote when I was 13 and loopy.
Honestly.. I don't think many people read my poetry.. Which is fine with me.. I've been questioning my motives for posting my poetry lately.. I don't think it's good enough... I see writers everyday that blow me out of the water with their descriptions.. Me? I'm just some drugged out looser trying to pose like I can write, right? Maybe I'm just being hard.. but fuck it, it's the truth.

Someone once wished that they could see all the money they spent... I'd wish to see all the drugs I did. Just so it would show me exactly how much it takes to kill the pain.
How much life do you have to waste before you realize that no one wants to hear some crack head with a keyboard and an internet connection.. LoL.. fuck.. maybe I'm just a lamb for the slaughter.. lord knows I've spent a good deal of time with people laughing behind my back already.
Hell.. I never said I was a people person...even though I am... but I guess that's me.. Conflicted. I love myself, and yet I hate my life. I love the world, yet I hate this environment. I love history, but I fucken hate the present.

I'm a rebel with a pause.

Not to mention an addiction, a broken heart, not enough time, broke, on running joke of a life with no wife, a dog that drools, laughed at by the fools, Kicked around on the ground, fuck it, it's my existence so I'd suggest distance since I destroy every girl and boy I touch even though I love them so much... These mixed emotions with the tears of the oceans jumbled in my brain, I think I'm insane...I know too much, think too much, drink too much... I dream, I live, I breathe and yet I want to leave. I'm tired of these games with the people and their names, I'm tired of the next set of bills to come in from the paper mills..
I'm tired of the clutter of everyday existence with circumstance as we do that graceful dance through 5 o’clock rush hour traffic. It all just makes me sick.

This isn't living.. This is poetry in motion. We’re tragic and beautiful in our sadness.. These are the moments that matter most.. those moments that tangent in and out of your dreams.. these vicious cycles of romance and circumstance as you ask her to dance and maybe get a chance for a ring and a white picket fence... or maybe you'll keep you're distance...

Live or die, I can't lie.. It's a truth, it's a lie, we're all going to die. I wish I knew.. maybe you do.. I know I don't.. but I can't, so I won't. I say love it.. You might say shove it. It's a place, you're face.. this land of opportunity, a small community, a world inside a world, in each boy and girl.. a ways to a means, if you know what that means.. dreams.. individual dreams.. these souls out fo control.. these lies we utter admist the confusion and the clutter..

I had all the answers once... but that’s when I didn’t understand the questions.

I'd rather write like that.. Inspired by the moment.. not planned in a hundred hour thinktank... but then again.. is it good enough.. that is the question? I see a million holes already...
I am currently Alienated
I am listening to the snow falling...

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A moment of jumbled clarity?
01/09/2004 06:10 a.m.
I have epiphanies all the time.. these little moments of clarity.. these movie moments of sadness.. these distillations of seconds into slow motion memories.. the smells.. the feelings…

I wish I could show you the wonders that happen inside my head.. since words fail me now..

I am a writer.. I guess… I wouldn’t consider it my day job…But I do find solace in a blank piece of paper.. and having that feeling… that indescribable and then.. making it happen.. transferring my madness to logic.. my lunacy to literacy.

I think it’s shit. Rubbish.. all of it.. I honestly can’t stand to read it… I see a million holes in it.
I see three dots everywhere, diction of a retard and story telling that can’t even touch the masters of written word.

I have delusions of grandeur.. Like you’re going to love this or something.

Like you’ll get the sarcasm that rolls off my lips like waves in the oceans..

I love writing. It’s the only thing I have left.

Well my latest mental mind block distillation has brought me to the conclusion that we’re all stuck in these cycles.. these little circles of trained emotional responses. I see them everyday. I walk into the supermarket and just see sadness in everyone’s eyes. This is a sad nation… On the whole, we have sadness in our soul.

I used to believe that happiness was what you make of it.
You can fake to be happy. But you have to be sad to recognize what being happy is for.

I’ve squandered my happiness.. I’ve partied my life away for a long decade.. gone the road of the lizard king.. to broaden my life.. I’ve traveled.. been up and down the eastern seaboard.. Seen Canada’s finest, and even got to see cali and in all of its raving splendor and hung over glory… been to Reno and seen more Harleys than you could shake a 20 bag at drunk on the streets in the world smallest Burger king. Seen Times square when there was no traffic and didn’t go to the top of the world trade because.. well honestly.. I’m was afraid of heights and we were broke. I have a picture I took of the skyline at sunset while in the car.. Panoramic even…
My happiness has flowed like a river. But then you come to the point in your life where you have to accept certain truths. Happiness is truly what you make of it. You make it. I’m depressed now because I put myself in a horrible situation. I was braced ahead of time…but not really. Happiness to be would be security.. but I’ll never attain that. I’m too cynical about myself. Hell.. look at this…I just end up breaking myself down in these things. Maybe it’ll show you a piece of me.. maybe it’s just the rattling of a madman.
I know the end is near. Not mine… but this situations end. I am not afraid. I’m unsure about the role I play in this life of mine.
Should I devote my time to working a 9-5 slave job for 7 an hour…Hoping that things will turn out for the better… Open other doors in my life that I’ve denied myself? Just out of fear of failure? I look back on my life and see one failure after another.. another life just wasted by missed chances and regrets.

My new years wish was this… No more missed chances in life… I don’t have time, I mean Jesus, I got hair sprouting out of my ears.. we all know getting old sucks. I don’t feel old…well.. maybe in the morning… but I know I’m old… Most people my age have kids.. a life, if you want to call it that…Me? I have nothing but a bunch of poems and a broken heart.

I’ve really spent a lot of time trying to figure out if I should even try to have a relationship with anyone anymore and by my actions.. I’ve basically cut everyone out of my life… I have a few people I talk to.. but it’s nothing like before… I’ve always had someone in my life to spend my time with… be it romantic or just plain friendship.. but now? Now I don’t even care. It’s sad looking at it on paper.. but you know, I really don’t miss them all as much as I thought. I’m a solitary person.. always have been.. I love silence, I love time to sit down and be introspective about myself and others… I’ve been told I think too much.. but I feel that I don’t think enough. Or I don’t think enough about the things that are important. That too will change this year…

I don’t read enough.. I spend all this time rambling on paper, yet I don’t read as much.. and there’s so much too read…If only we could stop time to consume media… ahhh… I’d love to digest a whole Stephen king book in a hot second. Maybe then someone could stomach my library… hell.. maybe just a poem or two…

When I was a kid, I thought I was going to be a rock star… My dad was a rock star… at least in my eyes…
He was in a punk band called the Thin Lads… They were a motley lot, but in their own way… trying to make it somehow… they didn’t.. but my father did get a lot of lessons out of it… As, I.. was probably the coolest kid on the block.. Who else’s dad had a Mohawk and looked like a ton of bricks? My dad rawked.
I remember the lead singer the best I guess.. maybe it was just cuz he was such a shit head…but I’ve noticed the lead singers always are assholes… Well.. I can’t say all of them.. I have met my share of great musicans.. I’ve said it before, but I feel like I’m the Forrest Gump of music… I got to work with all this great talent.. hands on work.. getting to party with them after the gig.. it was f’n awesome. I miss that job.. more than my 55 dollar an hour job for sprint, or my fame as an overnight DJ for a local radio station where I was called ‘on the special line’ to get off the mic.. Ahhh.. Memories…

When I was a kid, people would ask me what I wanted to be… and I had a thousand answers…
Now… Hell.. I ask kids just for ideas…

I’ve always been good at anything I do…I’m versatile… it would show by my resume.. I could do almost any job if you gave me the chance.. which is scary to me.. since it really makes it hard to stick with a career… I’ve gotten burned out on many of my jobs.. I mean who doesn’t? I’ve been happy at most of them, but the key to being happy at a job is the people you work with. If you work with miserable people all the time, you won’t last long at a job… If you work with great people.. honest, communicative, heartfelt people.. You will find yourself happy to be making shit pay for the time you spend working as a team with those people. I’ve found myself making 13 dollars a night, but being happy I got to work with someone I could talk to and joke a kid around with. I miss those days.

As you’ve noticed.. I don’t tend to want to write about my life. I might type a lot.. but I feel like it’s overstepping a boundary to know these personal things about me.. but in another way.. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me. Even though.. I probably won’t read this again.. maybe if someone points something out.. but odds are.. this is set adrift.. and you’ve found it. What you take from it, that’s you’re call. I have no answers. They might seem like answers, but I’m still trying to figure out the questions.

Someone told me I speak in poetic riddles. I do.. But as I said before.. these are probably just the ramblings of a madman…

When I was a kid.. they locked me up for evaluation.. which ended up lasting about 8 months…
It’s strange when you get locked up.. how the world is so clinical.. how the lack of human contact effects you.. how it’s supposed to make you feel safe.. but how could you feel safe locked in a place with people who you know share the same background? Such a farce… I remember how this one time, I was taken for an MRI.. and they drugged me since I couldn’t sit still.. it was like cough medicine, came in little containers that you might think creamer was in… the world was spinning and light hurt my eyes like never before.. I guess it’s a bitch when you get a hangover from opiates when you’re 8…
I was raped a few times while I was ‘in treatment’… nothing to write home about.. actually, it was weird being locked away.. much like Jail.. You’re on the inside and they are on the outside…over those walls and fences.. the world.. and inside… You are alone. You can’t make friends…You only have the staff.. I’ve always been a kiddie Casanova.. I would flirt even at a young age.. women always interested me.. so it was natural that I would get a crush on one of the staff.. her name was Cathy.. She had to be a psychologist, I remember us talking a lot.. I enjoyed talking to her.. she made me feel safe… I haven’t felt safe talking to someone in a long time… I guess that comes with knowing horrible things about yourself…
I remember how I looked forward to the nightshift… She let me stay up late one night.. and somehow, I ended up letting her tape me up with masking tape.. It was the first time in my life, that someone goofed around with me.. I remember those minutes… even though they are 20 years old… I used to think I had a horrible memory.. but I’ve found.. through the years.. that I remember the moments that matter.
I never saw Cathy again after I was taken out… They wanted to commit me for life.. they said I’d end up hurting myself or someone else. I guess they were right… It seems in my life, all these choices I’ve made.. all I’ve ever done is enable myself to hurt myself. It’s a sad tale.. which I guess is why I hate to talk about it.
I’m not here to drag anyone down, or go woe is he… I don’t want that. If I was to want anything in the world.. it would be to see that even tho… Horrible things have happened… there’s a bright side…You’re alive. You might be dead tomorrow.. But you’re alive now.

I’ve spent the last 10 years thinking that.. and that’s probably enabled me to have some of the best times of my life. Fuck it, live for now.. Tomorrow you’ll be dead…or wishing you were.

I am currently Detached
I am listening to the voices in my head

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The truth...today..
01/05/2004 10:23 p.m.
Maybe I’m emotional today.. maybe tomorrow…

Well.. for some of you who don’t know.. My grandfather had a stroke 4 days before Christmas.. I tried to remain chipper through all this.. I really haven’t talked with anyone about it.. save a couple of close friends.. but to be honest, I got sick to my stomach about that look they give you.. that “I’m so sorry” look that everyone gets.. I don’t deserve that kind of pity.. I don’t want it either. Besides.. I’m tired of talking about the whole situation. It’s shitty.. I know this.. I don’t want to have to explain it again…I’m living it.

I might as well explain this too, I have a severe phobia of hospitals.. I despise them.. I won’t step a foot in one.. I can feel the misery that resides within those walls.. the despair in everyone’s face.. I can see the sadness.. the death and it scares the hell out of me. Any medical facility for that matter…this really is reinforced by the fact that the medical system has almost killed my grandfather about 3 times now with mismatched medication and mis-diagnosis.. So yeah..
I know there’s a lot of hope and healing going on within, but since my stint with doctors and medical buildings, I none the less wouldn’t piss on it to put out a fire.. I’m not a fan to distil all that to a phrase.
So none the less, I’ve been talking with my grandfather on the phone.. and hearing someone you love not be able to really talk.. just destroys me… To see a man so proud before, now stumble over the words to say that he loves me..
I never really loved anyone as much as I have him.. He’s been my role model since a kid.. and that’s not really a good thing.. I mean he has major faults.. but I still love him none the less…He shared his world with me, he shared his good intentions always going wrong, his dirty jokes, his bad eyesight, his contempt for women, his deviancy, his easy way out, and most importantly He’s stood up for me…and backstabbed me to strangers…He righted and wronged me…but in spite of it all.. I still love him…the person underneath all that military tacked on bullshit brainwashed…now he’s an old man…Just full of stories and jokes… He might not have lived the best life in the world.. but he shared it with me…and saved my ass from jail a few times…
Don’t get me wrong.. I love my father.. but I think I respect my grandfather as a father figure mentally.. so to see someone that you’ve always looked up to be on bended knee is shattering.

I tell you now.. and mean this forever…

Enjoy the time you have with people.. even if you don’t love them. These times are precious.. Don’t waste them with petty bickering or who’s right or wrong. Accept reality for what it is. You sharing time with someone.

I only tell you all of this.. maybe because it’s the first time I’ve cried in a long time..
Maybe because I see that there are people out there who don’t deserve the situation they are in.
Maybe because I wish I had the last 10 years of my life back…
Maybe because I love you and I want you to see that… maybe.. just maybe.. if you look past your loved one’s bullshit.. You might see that they love you too..

Why I even bother trying to describe this is beyond me now in afterthought… but hell.. I did mention I might be emotional…fuck. No… that would be too easy…
Heart broken to see someone half the man they used to be.


I am currently Bummed
I am listening to Grey Ghost by M. Doughty

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Craziness & Drew Barrymore
01/02/2004 11:01 a.m.
I think I'm loosing my mind...

I had this crazy ass dream about talking to Drew Barrymore.. proabbly cuz I watched Wedding Singer tonight.. but none the less, I woke up at about 5am.. and was like screw it.. I'm gonna wander on the web for a few..

and I get on myspace.. and sure enuff.. Drew's pic pops up..

I, thinking it was a joke really.. sent her an email...

Now I know it's proabbly just a pipe dream... but it would be so uber cool to acually talk to a person I've had a crush on since I was a kid.. but alas.. I know.. it's proabbly all just a dream.. but hey.. You gotta try, you know? After all the coincindeces that have happend in my life.. why not? I've met my fair share of rock stars and famous people.. why couldn't I get the change to talk to one?

Yeah.. well.. I'm not holding my breath or anything.. just thought it was funny..

Ok.. so I'm sure you're wondering.. what was the dream about, right?

Well..

It was me, typing up something.. I dont know what it was, it was long.. I recognized MS Word tho.. and the print small.. I think I was editing.. and my phone rings.. the smae old Funky White boy ring.. I pop on the headset.. and it's drew barrymore.. My palms start sweating as I hear her voice on the other end..

We share small talk for a while, kinda jumping from subject to subject.. and I even get to hear her laugh..
Well.. more of a giggle really.. and you know what?

I wonder if my mind got it right, or else this is just some weird Deja Vu thing that I have so often.. and that really was her laugh..I hear a loud thump, (which is really the papergirl dropping the paper off) and it wakes me up...

why I even got outta bed is beyond me.. maybe it was all planned by some higher power.. who knows..

all I can do is Dream... =) and I suggest you do the same!

Until next time...
Wish yah well..
and keep dreaming.
I am currently Amazed
I am listening to Fallen - Sara Mclachlen

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Wow... just another day.. right?
01/01/2004 04:35 a.m.
Hmmm...

So it's a new year... or is going to be.. a whole planet.. on the verge of another year... Wow...right?

Yeah.. Well.. I wish you and yours the best.. you deserve it if you're reading this... lol.. I jest.. but still mean it.

This year... Do something...real. Do something to help someone else..like really go out of your way. It won't come back to you, but it will feel good to know you did.

Have faith... It all works out in the end.. even yours... So don't worry. Be yourself... it's all you can be. That will relieve alot of stress. It's gotten me through a couple mental breakdowns.. lol...

Write more. We all need to express ourselves. Just scribble if you have to.. but write more.. I lose some of my best ideas... I need a little steno pad... get old school.

Speaking of that... Hail the old school... I play alot of xbox live.. and I see that Old school is the way to go.. It's nostalgic.. makes me proud.. being 28 and all...

Make some new friends... Branch out.. learn new things.. you always learn something from people.. sometimes even things about yourself... So don't deny youtself this.. it's golden. It's those life lessons that help you to the next level.

Be more independent. You don't have to depend on the world.. You need to depend on yourself... people will let you down... this happens.. alot. So just don't plan on them... It might sound cold, but you won't be left out in the cold.

May you at least do one of these things... and with that, I wish you the best of luck.. and thank these small reminders of how slow and fast time can go by...

I'll see you here soon...
I am currently Geeky
I am listening to Trainwreck - Sarah Mclaclan

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Another one of those days...
12/29/2003 03:42 a.m.
You ever have one of those days that just seems to go sour by the time the sun goes down?
Honestly.. I don't know what brought it on... I was cool today... but for some reason... I just started getting all emotional.. started missing my old friends/lovers.. started to get hard on myself.. and hell.. now it's 10:30p
and all I want to do is crawl into bed..

I don't know what brings these things on.. probably some imbalance in my mind or something... something missing..

I'd say that I'm just unhappy with myself.. no matter what I do.. no matter how I try.. I slide right back into this tomb of depression.

I'm not living my life...and I'm scared.

I wish I could just put my life down on paper... I wish. but it would be misunderstood and held against me...
Maybe it'll be published after I'm dead..
maybe.

I don't think people would be able to handle it. I barely handle living the aftermath..

I wish I could just press a button and restart my life. This one sucks...This is is depressing, sad, depraved and suicidal. I just wanna crawl into a box and forget this life... forget this name.. forget who Aaron Howard even is.
My life... my joke...My mistake.

I'll live... or maybe not.
I am currently Depressed

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Wow... done...
12/16/2003 10:09 p.m.
Well I finally finshed up the posting at around 4pm.. so that was about 8 hours of work posting... So yeah.. You'll see a TON of stuff in the Archives now...

there's a couple other backup files I need to go through first before I'm sure I'm done.. but for the most part.. I think I am... thank goodness.. I'd been putting that off for a long time.. just to the shear amount of work I was going to have to put into it... Well yay!

Ok.. Well.. I've been tossing around the idea of making a rework folder.. We'll see how time treats me and If I really feel that creative... I could use some busywork to keep me from playing with xbox live... LoL..
I am currently Amazed
I am listening to Fallen Sara Mclachlen

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