stream of thought

I had a dream while napping this evening. My brother was home for a visit. We were discussing video games. I can't remember much else now.



I've been lurking online only briefly these past few days. I've been feeling pretty frustrated as of late. I get short with my family, though I am usually able to keep it internal. Sometimes it just seems like every question someone presents me is designed to make me have to think and speak clearly about.... *cough* *cough*



Fuck that.



My paycheck was a little lighter than usually this week, on account of my missing work due to illness. Now, I have no money for recreational alcohol. I...



Terms like 'ECHELON' and 'Total Information Awareness' and 'Data-Mining' are forcing themselves into my head. Am I being monitored?


The art of distraction comes in handy yet again.

Bilous

I felt alright this morning. I figured I'd make it to work no troubles.
Ten minutes before my shift, I ended up puking bile.
But I made it in alright.

I was worried when I woke up. I knew I had been online, written to a friend's girlfriend.
Business as usual for me and the bottle. Nothing too offensive though, so all's well.

I had a strange dream last night. I was with a girl, a little younger than me. She was blonde and wearing a red dress. We were at my parent's house, and we kept moving from room to room because... I think I was leading her around. I wanted to be alone with her, but we kept being interrupted or I was distracted. I got the feeling she was uninterested. Eventually, after far too much relocation, we finally achieved some measure of privacy, and she promptly left.

I felt like I knew this girl, but couldn't identify her. My focus was too much on my environment, and not enough on my companion. Thus, I was inevitably left to face the environment alone.
Subtle, no? Pull your head out now.

I can almost smell the old PC Games. The sense of wonder. The new technology. The excitement. I miss the newness. Even the beauty. I remember Doom, and Dune 2, and even Commander Keen. Duke Nukem 3-D. Bio-Menace. Raptor; Call of Shadows, Solar Winds; The Escape, Monkey Island, Hugo's House of Horrors, One Must Fall 2097, MegaRace, Death Rally, Red Baron, Stellar 7, Stunts, Quest for Glory 4, Police Quest, King's Quest 5, Descent, X-Wing and TIE Fighter, Lemmings, The Incredible Machine, Prince of Persia, Jagged Alliance, XCom; Terror from the Deep, The Dig, Full Throttle, Under a Killing Moon, The Lost Vikings, Cannon Fodder, Postal, Grand Theft Auto, Ghostbusters, Warcraft, Star Craft, Civilization, Masters of Magic, Seven Cities of Gold, so many games. I've invested a lot of my time in games. Good memories. I just hope it wasn't a waste. Even table-top games, board games and card games.

I think it's almost time for a game of Risk.

Evade and avoid, don't think about that. What's health? Don't worry about the future. Maybe that's the dream's message; stop worrying about the future so much, and do something you like now. Play your games. Read your fiction. Don't worry so much. Fuck, I'm worried about whether I worry too much; that's a good indication that I do.

Dexter 3 this weekend.
I hope that Flight of the Conchords season 2 is good.
My little TV digression.

I feel like working until the sun goes down. Staying out of sight until nightfall. Earning monies lost in yesterday's absenteeism. Avoiding potentially uncomfortable conversations entirely. Wait until everyone is asleep, then emerge to wander at will. Somewhat like a vampire I'd gather, but without the coffin. But, alas, I am hungry, and must venture forth, into the light, to retrieve suitable snacks.

Pizza would be swell.

I'm too sensitive. I don't want to hear about how I'm not living up to my potential. I don't want to discuss my thoughts, for fear of ridicule. I don't want to try, in case I disappoint myself. Enough of this self-loathing bah-log-nah, this is why I drink. You can't be sensitive if you can't really feel. Then, not paralyzed by fear, I am able to speak and do things for a while, that otherwise I would not be able to will myself to say or do. Of course, I end up making mistakes and being sloppy, but at least I'm doing something. This sounds to me like an error in judgement. Flawed logic on my part. The flaw is assuming the only way to overcome fear is with alcohol, or drugs I guess, depending on the fear. I'm not sure what needs to be done, if anything, to get me to move on with life and live it and shit. But if something does need to be done, I bet it's way more work than getting drunk.

Too Heavy

Too Heavy
One toke over the line
One line over the edge
One step over the ledge

Every sensation takes on a threatening quality.
Your shirt, it's too tight.
The air is dirty and stale.
You can feel it making your eyes sticky.

Your favourite song sounds out of tune.
And the singer is laughing at you.
You pathetic little shit.
What did you expect?

So slow to learn my lesson.

Keep your mouth shut. Don't even write it down. Stop.
Your stomach is heavy, distracting you.

Maybe I'm wrong.

The air rounds slightly, not so edgy.

Maybe I'm just paranoid or confused or tired.
I could be malnourished.
That's right, there's loads of reasons why I feel.

Too heavy.
Sharpening again.

Self righteous, self loathing, and scaring myself stupid.

...an unfamiliar song, chosen for it's reputation.
Well earned, it proves to be.
Bobbing my head now, I can almost forget...

I forget.

The art of distraction is under appreciated.

With normalcy restored, I continue.