Sacrifice.

It'd be a reoccurring theme if my life were a movie. It happens. A lot. Sacrifice. Something has to be given up. By me. It's always by me. It's never anyone else, or so it seems.

The weekend that just passed really wore me down. I feel like I'm still recovering from it, but, I'm not. I'm really not. I'm still feeling really uneasy, and to make matters worse, life keeps throwing me these curve balls. One right after the other.

Saturday night, April 5th, I had conversation with my friend Jesyca. It's incredible to think that I was able to call her friend. I hurt her. I broke her heart. It was what the conversation was about. Me, breaking her heart. And me acknowledging it. I didn't back away from it. I apologized a lot, and I was quite surprised that she didn't hate me. She should hate me.  She really should. In fact, her not hating me is probably the most merciful the fates have been to me. I was shocked and thankful.

I met her here about 2 years ago. I saw her picture and though, "Man, she's cute!" and sent her a friend request. She accepted. We started talking immediately. Eventually, we met up in real life and began hanging out. Over that time, I developed a crush on her. It was mutual.

I felt happy.

But, in the back of my mind, I was terrified to be with her (as her boyfriend). I thought about commitment, and freaked. I had flashbacks of Pennie. 2 years came, went and turned to dust, in what seemed like the batting of an eyelash. It crushed me. I thought about that happening again. Eventhough she made me happy, that feeling never went away.

We talked about that.

Flash forward to today:

She IMs me to tell me that her boyfriend (She mentioned him for the first time, randomly, about 2 months ago) was asking questions about me. I asked her "why would he be asking about me?" She had asked him the same and he had replied with "I have my reasons" which translates to "hey, I feel threatened because I'm insecure." Well, that's what it looks like to me (no, wait. That's exactly what it is. He actually told her to "respect" and stop talking to me).

The last thing she said was "I want things to work with him and I don't wanna be sad."

So, I left, said "Then, I'll leave you alone. Bye" and I blocked her.

She deleted me off her Myspace. Awesome, huh?

See...I don't understand one thing...If you saw this dude...he's one of those sub-culture confused Ghetto "fabulous" guys. He's also bigger than me. I dunno why he'd feel threatened by me at all an... Oh, wait, he's a Ghetto guy. They're all insecure assholes. My bad.

Yeah, this sucks, but, if she's happy with him, then, so be it.

I wanna headbutt something/someone. Take a guess who.

Asshole.

[END]

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I haven't really made up my mind on what I'm gonna do about tonight. Here goes: 
 
Basically, I got invited to a party by this chick I like (a lot). The thing is is that I can't read her. At all. Not to mention that, yeah, I think she got back with her ex...or maybe she never broke up with him to begin with. I wouldn't know (and I'll probably never know unless I ask). Awesome, huh? 
 
Come to think of it, when I friended her 3 years ago (via 1up.com) she was with this guy. However, she's never mentioned him. Ever. If she has, she's probably refered to him as her "friend" or something vague like that. I mean, hey, I'm not saying "talk my head off about your man 'til you're Blue in the face", but, yeah, at least mention him. I dunno...it's wierd. And kind of shady, which was hard to say because I really like her (go bias! Woo!). 
 
She also keeps her status hidden. And she's mentioned (via some survey) that she's "pretended to be happy." 
 
I started hanging out with her 2, almost 3 months ago (around the time of her "break-up"). I could have probably hung out with her sooner, but I have this thing where I don't wanna hang with a chick who has a boyfriend. I have my reasons. The main one, of course, is, hey, I don't wanna fall for you...because you have a boyfriend. This is amplified if I think he kinda sucks. Like, if you're a chick, 18-25, have a boyfriend and is bored out of her skull most of the time, it sounds like you need a new boyfriend (at least). 
 
I veered off course a little. Sort of. Back to it: 
 
Hell, I even tried to not go nuts talking to her via AIM, but that didn't really work (hur hur). 
 
(Insert audible sigh here) 
 
She's the coolest girl I ever met. I mean that in all seriousness. I still don't know her super well, but it feels like we go way back. She's beautiful. She's hardworking. She's kind. She's fun. She's mysterious (a little). She's outgoing. She's funny. She'd get me. And because of all of that, I'll never get to be with her. 
 
I've been trying to write this out over the course of the last few days (I started on 4/2, it's 4/4 today). Looking back there are things I missed. Oh well, I'll come back and fill those blanks in later. 
 
Last night. April 3rd, 2009. I had finally made up my mind about the party. I was going to go, except that I wanted to be "loosened up" before I got there. After getting off the train, I decided that I was gonna buy some beers. To loosen up. 
 
Long story short (I wanna cut out some details here), I took a shower, pounded down my beers, had 2 shots of Baccardi Limon and smoked some weed. By 10:20, I hopped on the bus to get to the party. 
 
I got off 3 or 4 stops before I was supposed to. It didn't bother me much seeing as how last night wasn't super cold or anything. It was about a 10 minute walk to where her directions told me to get to (a Dunkin Donuts). At first, I went the wrong way (I was high). No biggie. I retraced my steps and got back to the Dunkin Donuts. It turns out that I had to make a right as opposed to walking straight ahead. 
 
It took me less than 5 minutes to get to her building. 
 
Now, here's where things take a turn for the worse. I walk in. I start feeling anxious. I'm passed the front door of the building. I take a nervous breath. The elevator is in front of me, stairs to the far right and left. I choose the stairs to the right. I feel like I ran a mile. I'm just a little nervous, right? After 3 steps, my legs freeze. My heart's going crazy. I close my eyes and try focusing. No dice. I walk to the elevator. I press up. She's on the 4th floor. I breathe in, then out. A group walks in. They look like they're here for the party (read: hipsters). They pack into the elevator. I stare at my phone. I walk outside. 
 
I sat in front of her building for a few minutes. Someone out there talks to me. I walk away. 
 
After walking for a few minutes, I call her. She sounds like she's having a blast. I tell her that I'm stoned. Out. Of. My. Mind. And that I got depressed at some point, nor did I know if it was caused by the weed (it might have been). I rememeber my voice broke for a split second. She asked if I need her to pick me up, or to help me, console me, etc. I refused it (she was the hostess of the party). "I'm gonna go home. No, thanks, I'm just gonna go home, okay? Later." 
 
I walked another 4 blocks. It was starting to get cold. I needed to relax.
 
I called my friend Billy (he lives a few train stops away). I told him about what happened. I crashed there for a few hours (it was cold). I just needed to sit down and try and clear my mind. I also needed a drink of water, badly. My breath smelled awful, too.

I left around 2 am. 
 
I didn't fall asleep until 4. The feeling of uneasiness never left. I don't know how I slept at all. 
 
She texted me this morning. I don't want to worry her. 
 
Moral Of The Story: Don't mix Alcohol with Marijuana and DEPRESSION. It'll fuck you up.

I'm done for now.

[END]
 

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Note: I wrote this a few days ago on my Sidekick. It didn't go through. I'm on a computer now, so here goes:

This is my first entry in a long time. I don't even know where to begin. 
 
I could have sworn that I posted a wordy rant sometime last year regarding a work "situation." I did it via mobile phone, but, I guess it didn't go through or whatever. It's probably for the best. I somewhat remember the gist of it and in hindsight it's better off not remembered. 
 
What have I been up to? That's a good question. What have I been up to? 
 
For starters, not much. Sometime last year, I had started writing music for a project called Kafka On The Shore. Essentially, the "band" would consist of myself and a few of my friends, whom all have other projects under their belts. 
 
Momentum was building for the project. But, it's died down for the moment. It's probably due to our schedules. We're all busy with our (shitty) jobs, projects, girlfriends, etc. 
 
As of now Kafka On The Shore is: Me (The Red Spectra) and Panta Rei (The Von Neumann Probe) on guitar, David Arcade (The Robot Diaries, Red Hero) on vocals, and Bear Bronson (Mecha_B.E.A.R., ex-Captain Robo) on electronics. I have a bassist pending, but, it's not set in stone yet. I thought that we didn't have a drummer, but, apparently we have one pending as well. 
 
I'm also drawing a secret comic of sorts. I'm not gonna reveal the details yet. So far, I have 2 pages done. One with BACKGROUNDS. If you know me and my art, that should have knocked you on your ass. 
 
I began working on a picture of the main character last night. I'll try and post it here when I'm done with it. 
 
Tonight should be fun. Gonna hang with some of the crew. Drinks and laughs will be had. It should prove to be a fun/epic evening. 
 
I still have fond memories of the last outing we had. There was beer, Jaegerbombs, Keytars, pizza and MUPPETS. Getting hit by cars, no less. If you don't think any of what I just said was awesome, please, navigate away from this page. Now. 
 
Seriously. 
 
I don't think any drunken night I've had was that awesome. Don't get me wrong, I've had some great drunken nights...but this one...I don't know how it'll be topped. 
 
Hopefully tonight will be a contender. 
 
[END] 

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It turns out that I was able to get the sidekick up and running, with the free nights and weekends. JEAH.

The only problem is I'm having reception issues...at work...scratch that...all over and near Wall St, which is just fucking, "wow" considering that I live in New York City, the financial capital of the world, where I'm pretty sure people use their celphones a lot. I can't even say it's the phone (or maybe it is...), because, there are other people here with them and no, they don't seem to be having the same issues that I am having. Or it doesn't look that way.

But, then again, "ha ha ha ha, I'm life, I'm going to be unfair to Glen. Ha ha ha."

See, this is why I have this mentality/outlook on life. This is a perfect example. I'm pissed because of the dissapointments. The constant dissappointments. That's all life ever feels like: Constant dissappointments. They hit me in the face like well-rolled snowballs; hard and cold, they don't immediately break apart upon hitting my face. And it's like this, almost all the fucking time. If it's not one thing, it's another.

I really can't wait for lunch, so that, yeah, I could struggle to find reception to get on AIM, because, yeah, why should I be getting the maximum usage on my phone for the extra $20 I'm spending a month? I mean, why should I be getting at least a bar when I'm walking around an area like WALL STREET so I can use my CELPHONE? Life needs to stop shitting on me, and anyone else who probably doesn't need it/deserve it. Hell, I can give Life a list of people who sorely need to be shat on...but, that's another entry.

Ugh.

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I haven't been on form as of late. It stems from this whole "It's almost my birthday" funk that I seem to fall into almost every year. Usually, something makes me fall into this "funk." Or someone. Last year, it was Pennie telling me that she had met someone else. Yes, she felt the need to tell me at that exact moment. The night before my fucking 23rd birthday. What impecable timing.

This year, it's a few things. Here goes:

First off, apparently, I must be a good luck charm, because, when you women have any interest in me, which eventually fizzles, you find someone else. Instantly, especially when you fuck me over. I mean, at least that's how it looks from here. It's fucked up. It's also really fucking depressing because, seriously, why should you be happy after fucking me over? Huh? Why should you just happily walk away, and I writhe in silence?

And, egh, I kinda like someone at work, but, she doesn't seem to be interested. Who saw that coming?

This ultimately goes in the direction of me thinking that there must be something wrong with me. I mean, everyone leaves, everyone gets over me, and, oh yeah, I must be fucking ugly, too. Sometimes, I wish I had a typical shit eater grin. You know the one. The one that when you see it, the first word out of your mouth is "wow, that dude looks like an asshole." And you're usually right about it. If I had this specific type of grin, women would draw specific conclusions about me and my character, and you know, fuck me, because, we all know that a woman will take an asshole over someone who's genuinely good.

Also, I've got to stop liking chicks for their personalities. I've got to start fixating on their breasts or something, because, you know, women love being told that they have "nice tits" as opposed to "wow, you're an awesome person." An awesome example of that was Cecily, who would have rather dated (wait, she actually did) a dude who only commented on her body and is practically a date rapist. That was a much better choice than say...me. But, with her, I really shouldn't feel bad. She has terrible taste. I would have probably stood a better chance if I was, per say, a tool. Yeah, she likes tools. Only tools. Yet, all she ever does is bitch and moan about how much she hates tools. Next time she says that (if I ever choose to freely IM her again), I should just tell her to "Shut up and stop fucking them, because, yeah, all you fucking date/fuck are tools." 

But, yeah, I really shouldn't let it get to me. It's not my fault most women are fucking selfish, chickenshit hypocrates.

Oh, and speaking of chickenshit hypocrates, I ran into this chick Athena today. Wait. Scratch the "ran into" part. She walked by me and "didn't recognize me" (I'm sure she recognized me) and I say "didn't recognize me" because, back in high school, where I first met her, we were pretty close. It's also safe to say that I was into her, and she into me, but, yeah, in the begining (actually, the first fucking day) of my Senior year (her Junior), she stopped talking to me, because, get this, she had gotten a (rich) boyfriend, which I had to find out from someone else. Yeah, she also stopped talking to me, almost instantly. Just me. No one else. Just me. It was really fucked up, considering how close we had gotten the year before. So, seeing her today, probably happier than a pig in shit when she doesn't deserve it, infuriated me.

It goes back to the whole "If you dick me around emotionally, you'll be happy" thing I mentioned earlier. It's fucked up and I hate it. Fucking, she doesn't deserve to be happy. At all. She's fucked up. And a chickenshit. She obviously couldn't handle being with someone like me. Well, good. Fuck her.

Ugh, I dont' want to be at work today. I just want to lock myself up at home and listen to Ion Dissonance.

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I worked my last Saturday last week. JEAH, because, seriously, working Saturdays was really starting to get on my nerves, not to mention that my workload felt like it was growing and growing by the week. Also, I was permenently moved to the other building that the firm owns and, yeah, I do a lot moving boxes. All day. So, that in conjunction with all the shit I have to do Saturday was killing me.

Another really rad thing is that all the days I requested off thus far are Saturdays, like the one coming up. It's my birthday. Thank God I'm not working on my birthday, let alone a birthday that's on a Saturday.

I saw the Final Cut of Blade Runner last night at this special theater, The Ziegfeld. It was the second time this month that I saw the film there (the first time was last Wednesday). The first time I saw it, I went with my friends (from my old job, The New York Botanical Garden) Dante, Jolynne and Efrain and last night I hit it up with Rei and Xose (Jose).

Speaking of which, hanging out with Rei and Xose last night was interesting. It felt like, there was never a rift between us (mostly between me and Rei), and yeah, it was cool. It was like old times. Hopefully, there will be more times like that.

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The Sidekick plan sucks ass. Basically, I'd have to give up half of my Whenever minutes and free nights, which is like, no. People barely call me, but, I know as soon as I have half my minutes cut, BAM, I'll be getting calls from everyone. But, yeah, the T-mobile rep had told me that because I've been a T-mobile customer for more than a year, I was able to have 600 Whenever minutes, no free nights, but, the 600 minutes.

It sucks.

Probably going to use it Pre-paid.

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My brothers ended up getting an X-box 360, like, 2 weeks ago. And they got Halo 3 on the night that it came out. Wait. They got the game first, then the system. Yeah. That about sounds right. Sorry, I should have written that out better, and in order. 

I have yet to touch the controllers, which is no big to me, because, I'm not really big on Halo anyways. I think it's horribly overrated. There isn't anything special about the game, really. It's a standard FPS with vehicles, and a very limited weapon selection. Well, that was the case with the first and second game. I mean, games like Perfect Dark and Timesplitters had weapons up the ass, where as the first Halo had, what, 4 weapons? What is that all about?

Also, I'd probably enjoy Halo more if the archtype of the Halo fan wasn't a loudmouth, fratboyesque asshole trying to mimic FPS Doug. Okay? Quit that shit. FPS Doug is funny. You are not. Fuck you.

Shit, one time, I played Timesplitters 3 with this one dude who was like "I'm Scott Vogel, I sing for Terror" and my initial thought was "Wait, I fucking hate Terror." From that moment on, or at least while I was in that game, I made it my mission to kill that shithead as much as I could. I did talk about how much I thought that Terror sucked ass as a band, but, sadly, that guy probably wasn't really Scott Vogel. What began to give it away was the fact that that's all he said: "I'm Scott Vogel. I sing for Terror." Nothing else. Asshole. Getting my hopes up like that...

Eventually, I'm going to be getting Guitar Hero II. I've made that a priority, when, really, I should be getting speakers for my computer.

Or a scanner.

Or, I dunno, I should pay the $45 balance on my Cel phone bill.

Speaking of which...I finally got a Sidekick 3. JEAH. All I have to do now is add the Data plan to my current plan and I'm all set...which I'll get to, eventually. I got it off my brother. He bought himself an MDA Wing, so he had to get rid of the Sidekick. He let me have it for $100. Yeah, I paid my brother $100 for the phone. See, I'd rather give him the money than say, some of the people on Craig's List, especially when I would have paid, what, $50 more for a phone in worse condition? Fuck that.

Ugh, I gotta finish some work.

Later.

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Wow, I have 15 minutes left for my lunch break. My my, where does all the time go? (takes a sip of a Coke). Seriously, I'd like to know.

Time has been flying. Really fast, like, Concord fast. 4 months ago felt like last week. It's insane. And time isn't slowing down, nor does it plan on slowing down...and that's scary. Shit, I'm 23 now and next month, I'm going to be 24. And pretty soon after that, I'm going to be 30. Then, 40, and then, I'm lucky to live that long, 50, and so on and so forth. It'll all come faster than I can expect it.

But, yeah, on to something...I want to say "happier", but, instead, I'm going to say "better." I finally finished reading the final installment of the Harry Potter series. All I'm going to say is that, yes, it's a good read. I don't want to say much about the ending, or who dies, or whatever, because, personally, I hate spoilers. To death. Shit, when I was going out with Pennie, who introduced me to the books by lending them all to me, spoiled this one event that unfolded in the 6th book, which pissed me off, because, knowing something of the magentude that this event had, it really took away from the whole thing (she never understood that). But, yeah, on the subject of spoiling, I tried really hard to not try and spoil any of the manga stories that I got her into, although it was really fun teasing her by saying things like "Hao (from Shaman King) is..." only to have her make her angry pouty face at me. Ha.

Walking with Strangers

The Birthday Massacre

What else? Oooh, I've been getting into this band, The Birthday Massacre. They have a new record out. It's called Walking With Strangers. It's very good. Sarah Zombie had linked me to their myspace when she was talking about how they were one of her favorite bands and what not. I clicked the link and was almost immediately hooked, which kinda surprised me, because I sort of consider them a "Goth" band, and let it be known, I don't like "Goth" music. Lots of it comes off as really immature, generic and just plain corny, like, let's see...who's a good example? Oh! Voltaire. Yeah, him. Ugh. I checked him out because one of my friends like him (I'm guessing; she subscribes to his blog on myspace), and I really wasn't impressed with what I heard. It was just lame sounding, I'm sorry. But, yeah, back to The Birthday Massacre. They're very good. The instrumentation, the lyrics, the vocals. Everything. Every song just has this really amazing atmosphere. It's usually beautiful and haunting, which I love.

Hopefully, I'll be able to hang out with some friends and/or just chill out tonight.

Wow, I could really go for a Kirin Ichiban right about now.

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"Mijito, who were those men?"

"Listen to me! Listen to me, Corina, look at my hands. You've got to get out of here, they're after my tortillas!"

I love Pablo Francisco.

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