Diliberate FAILURE

I'm apparently making things hard on myself.
There is no evil out there trying to keep me from succeeding.
I do not have a nemesis like Kirk had Kahn.
The truth is, i suck.

I don't want to coach diving because that would just be pathetic.
I was good at diving, not coaching. They aren't the same thing and I don't want everyone to think that it would be a great idea for me to coach because I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO COACH DIVING.

I loved the sport. And I miss it every day. But that's over now. I've been depressed since I quit diving and have only been too drunk to notice that fact.

I don't want to stay here. I still hate living in St Louis. The people here are so narrowminded and driven to a point where nobody else matters. I'm sick of watching my life through a lens every time someone tries to understand "what i'm doing" or "where i'm from" or "what i want to do with my degree." I don't have any goddamn answers because it's life, not trivia. I don't have answers yet and i'm ok with that for right now.

What i'm not ok with is the fact that i don't do anything exciting anymore. Diving was all about living in the moment - surprising yourself by focusing everything into one dive, one dive at a time. I'm out of that world and constantly in this world(which is very similar to school) which rewards me for being on time, remembering when to do what, and not forgetting to impress whoever the fuck needs to be impressed with my appearance, performance, or resume.
It mattered how well i could do ONE DIVE when i was on that diving board.
It mattered to me for every dive.
Each one made a difference.
And now I don't make a difference at all.
I might as well be dead.

furious

There isn't a lot to say, I'm just having a bad day.

Nothing's good. Nothing is reasonably good, even. My day started with pillars of gigantic depression and dispair and from that foundation, built itself into a towering furnace of aching, self-defeating, anxious, immolating fury. I'm feeding it with anything i do and nothing helps.
If nothing helps a terrible day, then what's the point of doing anything that isn't terrible?
Should I just remain thuroughly imbedded in this mood and continue the cycle of pain and suffering by acting in kind to other people no matter what their disposition is? Should their joy be ruined by my lack of happiness? Do they deserve to feel good about anything while i suffer through meaningless tasks and appointments?

Do I deserve to be happy?


Some would argue that i don't deserve anything, that the world is there for the taking and i'm just waiting in line to get my peice. No. I'm not waiting anymore. No i'm not waiting for a peice. No, that doesn't mean i want the whole thing.

It means i want to go out in a fucking blaze of glory and i don't care if you feel or see or hear or smell the blast of fire and flesh that will signify my demise. Your attendance to my end will only further the fact that one man's death is nothing more than entertainment for your boring, predicted life. The fact that you hear about my self-destruction is in fact, part of how you are controlled. You are part of a mindless, thoughtless, spiritless pool of pain and toil called humanity and i'm escaping to prove my own ABSOLUTE REJECTION of humanity. Fuck this life i have. Fuck these friends and family and things and religions and governments and words and clothes and doctors and girlfriends. Fuck everything about how i've lived and fuck everything that i've ever done.
I get sick thinking about it.
I get sick THINKING about what i have done with my life. I've done NOTHING. I've done nothing that matters, nothing that has made any difference. Nothing that i've cared about. So fuck this identity that i have to compare to the cynical parents that gave birth to me. I feel scared for what is expected of me. I am afraid of what i could become if i ever REALLY listened to them.

What is the point

life?

i'd much rather bond myself to a machine that could keep me moving and never stop changing directions across every road on this planet
there's no point in anything else and i don't dream about anything else anymore

Brains don't work in the dark, everybody knows that.

I woke up from a dream this morning. I was dreaming about being on a boat in the ocean smoking a cigar and wearing kickass aviators. I had chest hair. My boat was small, but full of fish or beer or something. I dropped my cigar in my lap and woke up in my bed with my alarms going off. But instead of scrambling in the dark to turn off my screaming alarms, I tore off my sheets looking for my dropped cigar! Only after a short search did I realize I was in my pitch black room in the basement of my parents house, naked, dumbfounded, and very dizzy.
I thought i was dizzy because of being sore in my legs from standing for the past 2 days at camp.
Turns out, all the blood was rushing to my head, and once i turned off my alarm, i could hear the blood flowing past my ears. It was a really cool sensation/effect even though it brought about a cripplingly intense headache for a few minutes.
I remember not feeling rested.
And I remember that it felt good.

I'm currently writing this post while at work as a way to keep myself from falling asleep because I don't want to drink any energy drinks until after work because I plan on staying up all night with Kiwon for his last night in town - ALL NIGHT ROCKBAND FANTASMIC LOVE MAKING SESSION WITH KIWON. This is scheduled after a counselors-night-out to forest park for live jazz. The weather looks half decent, so that should be way fun.

I'm not going to write about how i'm alone, how i hate myself, or about how i'm not optimistic. I'm instead going to not write much at all about what i'm thinking and instead write about what i've done or how i've felt at specific times (other than the present). I'm sick of getting down on myself once i get introverted.

I majored in a HISTORY, which could say something for "what i want to do with my degree". I think I'd like writing everything down. That feels like a worthy task for anyone because of all the things you remember, the next day you'll NOT remember something. The odds that you'll forget something that happened yesterday is just as good as the odds are that you'll learn something tomorrow. Who knows how accurate that statement really is, but nonetheless, nostalgia is a helluva drug.

One of our campers lied to my face today. What do you say to a kid who is boldface lying to you? She had autism and might have trouble grasping the concept of HONESTY, but I was mighty ticked off. PS - The St Louis art museum is about 50% crap, 30% catchy stuff, and 10% eye catching and interesting. The other 10% got lost trying to find "the mummy room".

There are going to be 8 divers on the SLU diving team this year. 4 returners and 4 possibly deranged newbies. I'm considering taking them under my wing and into my tutelage. Forecast: bubblegum. (i don't know what that means)

4thly I'm missing 4th of July at grandma Rita's this year because of Frazzle's wedding. Which sucks because i planned on leaving for Australia in January, hence not giving me one last 4th of july in the states before being overseas for a (possibly) long time. Not only this factoid, but the fact that Robert and Susan's wedding will likely be next summer... What i'm edging at is the fact that i don't want to miss these events and admit that the more time i have at home, the more preparation can be done for this Odyssey. I'm not dragging my feet as much as i'm dedicating myself to the people here before I leave, because I do not want them to forget about me just as much as I do not want to forget about them.

endly, i'll probably end up dwelling on that history bit. I found it while writing so maybe that's a proving point in itself! Expect updates for most of the time I'm at work because the end of the shift begs for an activity like this.

-Jarman

Still Alive

Drinking too much.


I'm at war with the concept of "when" i'm going to start living my life like everyone else.
The simple answer is that I do not know "when" but once I know "what" I want to do and devote a large amount of my time to it, that is "when" I believe i'll start doing what I expect myself to do.

I explain myself to imaginary villains, but I never get advice from imaginary heroes... no fair.


Grand Theft Auto 4. I'm doing it.

So I've taken it upon myself to play this game as well as I possibly can. I meet the random friends on the street and try to do their missions when i see them, I keep up with roman, brucie, little jacob, packie. I killed Dwayne, which means Playboy X doesn't talk to me anymore... which is a dick move. I love driving, but I love slaughtering compounds full of baddies just as much. The story missions are fantastic and I don't want the game to end which is probably why i'm taking so long to play through it.
Which brings me to my first point - VIDEOGAMES SHOULD HAVE PROTAGONISTS
You take the ROLE of Niko Bellic. You become him. You're in HIS world. You are no longer YOU. This is a terribly important feature of several games and several storylines. Mass Effect drooped a bunch in the beginning because of the character creation. I didn't care what happened to me in my past! I just wanted to see all the pretty graphics! Let's shoot stuff! Oblivion lost a bit in its char.creator too, but that tutorial was cake-easy and set you up for a ton of good jokes (which made the social aspect of being an Orc fun :D ). GTA doesn't let you personalize how many scars your character has on his face. It doesn't let you choose your family history or hair color or fighting style.
You are this character. And you WILL fall into line as his character sees fit. The decisions you make as Niko Bellic truly affect what happens later... IN NIKO BELLIC'S LIFE. It's the idea that you are a given a window to this character's life, not given a whole life and told to determine the fate of the GALAXY by means of personalizing/editing his conversation style or number of dollars he has collected. The game stands by itself as a great GAME (see: beginning and ending).
The multiplayer uses the best of the games elements to give us "shoot everybody" mode and "go here" mode. The only legitimately exciting aspect of which is the fact that you are inhabiting Liberty City as a infinitely unique character with other UNIQUE characters in a live, living, setting.

Anyway.

I feel like i have fleas.
I need new clothes.
I want a motorcycle.
I feel like i'm changing