progress you can (quit) beat(ing) off to... (silver lining #129)

"The reabsorption of semen by the blood ... perhaps prompts the stimulus of power, the unrest of all forces towards the overcoming of resistances ... The feeling of power has so far mounted highest in abstinent priests and hermits" - Nietzsche

I quit masturbating, and finally got cracking on my internet novel. It's kind of a big project: 1/3 blogs from the characters, 1/3 videos uploaded by the characters and finally, 1/3 short film.

I'm probably going to need some help with it.

So, you know, get the dick out of your hand and contact me:

disconcertia@gmail.com (email/msn)

or

dozat@mac.com on aim.

Cool.

My Review of 'I Am Legend' (silver lining #128)

I wrote this back when it was in theaters, because it's not often that a movie comes out and I've already read the book. I submitted it to the local newspaper- no dice. Go figs.

"You should go see 'I Am Legend.'

Good shit.

I learned that Vampires (they get capitalized, because they're a race. A lot of people don't capitalize races, but I do, because I'm not a racist. Anyway,) burn like Jews.

Yours in Christ,
-Dozat"

I don't know. Maybe it was a racist paper.

you want happy? i'll give you happy... (silver lining # 12,224)

Taken without permission from VICE Magazine.

a moment of bliss

everyone remembers the one person in high school who you wanted to fuck but knew you had no chance with. this isn't the typical high school cunt who wouldn't even acknowledge knowing your name even if you were sodomizing her at gun point. this was the girl who was beautiful and painfully friendly but in the back of your mind you knew you had no chance with her. you may think you did when you were intoxicated and pounding one out thinking of her but the moment of clarity came to you quickly while you were cleaning DNA out of your belly button.

in a way this was more cruel than the previous situation because at times you were confused by this person's friendliness. as a teenager you were constantly thinking (and trying) to find ways to stick your dick into anything that shows slight kindness towards you. it took until you were grown up (or got laid for the first time) to realize that some people are just nice people and want nothing more. this lead to false hopes and wet dreams.

flash forward a few years later to see the same girl working at a grocery store. she's still friendly but has had a few kids. this has lead to a transformation in her appearance. she has gained some weight and looks haggard. smiling while talking to her, you know that for once you have a chance with her in her current situation. you think to yourself that maybe she is falling for the same thing you are doing to her that you did in high school.

you talk for a few minutes and have a genuinely nice conversation. leaving to the store you are smiling, not because of the payback you gave her from high school. you are smiling because you found out from her that her hot sister is single and maybe, just maybe, this is tearing her up inside.

For Fear of Falling Footwear

I really think there must be something wrong with me. My emotional retardation is such that I can never simply enjoy happiness when I find it. Just when things are going well, a smile on my face sets off an alarm. Suddenly aware of my contented state and knowing that it can never last, I begin to anticipate impending misery thus bringing about a self-fulfilling prophecy. And the happier I am the more profound the effect. As soon as I get caught up in the moment, a voice warns me that a fall from this emotional height would be devastating. I begin to imagine all the possible bad endings to my bliss and I am left waiting for the other shoe to drop and bring the whole house down. Such is the anxiety of my contentment.

My only recourse seems to be self-medication. A good and proper dose of the right substance keeps the higher functions occupied while letting the reptile brain bask in the buzz like a lizard on a warm rock in the sunshine. Sure it's only a temporary fix and the same problems will still be waiting, possibly worsening, during my mental vacation. But right now, who gives a shit? The appeal is obvious. Happiness is a warm crack pipe. It's no wonder that alcoholics and other addicts return again and again to that sweet release from the uncertainty, the randomness, and the sheer boredom of day-to-day living, replacing it with a pharmacological fixed grin. The psychological craving for the narcotic effect lingers even after the physical sickness of withdrawal has passed. Once you've smoothed out the bumps, taking away life's highs and lows, there is nothing left to do but kick back and enjoy the ride. From one of my favorite films, Drugstore Cowboy: "Most people don't know how they're gonna feel from one moment to the next. But a dope fiend has a pretty good idea. All you gotta do is look at the labels on the little bottles." What a comfort. Fortunately, I don't have an addictive personality else I would have been lost long ago.

At last...

It's nice
To be able
To tell someone
"I love you"

And mean it.

back-handed free associations (silver lining #11,004)

Tomorrow is my son, Jackson's first birthday, which makes me think of cake. Which makes me think of Hedberg. Which makes me think of Shawcroft.

Which makes me think of Panamint.

Which has made me smile almost as many times as the last 364 days with my new best friend on earth.

So, there's that.