puddle of me

standing next to the puddle
i stare at myself
looking back from the muddied waters
the wind picks up as my puddled me shivers in the wind

i start to walk away, take 2 steps and look back
only to stare at myself straight in the eye.
as i turn away to leave, a biker approaches,
oblivious to all around.

i wince in horror
as the front tire splits my face in half
not even pausing for a split second
oblivious to me standing there

my face in a state of disorder
i touch my face, trying to find myself
slowly the picture clears
as i see myself once again, swaying in the wind.

nyc

bus ride up to nyc. somewhere in between maryland and nyc. between catnaps and a fully loaded ipod, the ride's not half bad.


after calling my sister for the 4th time and having her repeat the location of the hotel, i finally figured out which train i should take and which station i should get off at. the sun was starting to set on my walk from the station to the hotel.


taking a breather while shopping on 5th ave. ducked into dean and deluca for a cup of coffee. made fun of people walking outside the window. waited 15mins in line to piss.


3:55pm on saturday. on the bus, about to leave for home. outside, nyc keeps on moving.

sadistic fuck

being the genius that I am, I decided to take the bus to nyc on thanksgiving day. deep down, i must a retarded sadistic fuck to take the damn bus on the busiest travel day of the season to the big apple.

oh, god. supposedly i should be in nyc sometime between noon and 1pm. on a normal day.

i'm thinking i should kiss some bum's foot in nyc if i get there by 3pm.

holy shit. that means 8 hrs on the bus. maybe i should bring a sharp tool to end my life if i really can't take it anymore.

and i bet there's be some fat ass smelling like cat piss sitting next to me the whole ride up.

whoop dee do.

i can't wait

if x+y = 2x and i can't write, what is z?

dusty petals, as if stained with dry blood
moisture of life no longer present
the vibrant red petals that once was
is all but a faded memory

as i sit here and wonder
i'm speechless, i ponder
as i stare at the petal
of a once beautiful rose

so i was playing around, figured i'll try to come up some upbeat, non depressing stuff, and all i came up with nothing. everything i started to write just came out dark, grey, sad. quite interesting. maybe i'm just one of those people that can never be truly happy.

i'm gonna end up like the old wrinkly man you see walking down the street, constantly mumbling to himself, complaining about everything and anything all at once.

heh.

i hope

hope that you'll excel on your new job
hope that you'll find a better job, one that you dream of
hope that your feet will finally stop hurting when you're running
hope that you'll drive safely
hope that you'll one day be able to quit the rat race and record your album
hope that you'll get over ohio girls
hope that you'll find some direction, some map in life to make you happy

oh, and i hope i can get a cheap hotel rate at nyc.

strike 1

my eyes are wide open
yet i can't see you in front of me
i feel your aura around
but i can't feel you next to me

i can smell you, almost taste you
is it real or am i dreaming
where is the line drawn in the sand
between reality and dillusions?

somewhere between ohio and the northern star
sucked in by your mysterious facade

Ohio
Girls
Suck

this sucks. try again later.

suka dika

so all the putdowns about his follow-up attempt has left NotFunnyGuy distraught and bitter, as exhibited below.

[11:02] NotFunnyGuy: ok ok
[11:02] NotFunnyGuy: got one...
[11:02] NotFunnyGuy: I got a hate joke...
[11:02] NotFunnyGuy: to get my revenage
[11:02] ed: oh here we go again
[11:02] ed: let's hear it
[11:02] NotFunnyGuy: knock knock
[11:03] ed: knock knock joke? didn't you read my why the chicken cross the street joke?
[11:03] ed: you wanna get bitch slapped?
[11:03] NotFunnyGuy: ahahahah
[11:03] NotFunnyGuy: comon
[11:03] NotFunnyGuy: play along
[11:03] NotFunnyGuy: knock knock
[11:03] ed: who the fuck's out there?
[11:03] NotFunnyGuy: yomama suka
[11:03] ed: ahahahaha
[11:03] ed: that's worse than the last one
[11:03] NotFunnyGuy: yomama suka who?
[11:04] ed: ok. yomama sucka who?
[11:04] NotFunnyGuy: yomama suka dika you aholes that hates my jokes
[11:04] ed: sorry i'm not fluent in retarded knock knock jokes
[11:04] ed: ahahaha. that's actually not bad
[11:04] NotFunnyGuy: yeah yeah
[11:04] ed: suka dika
[11:04] ed: a lot of bitter feelings in it
[11:04] NotFunnyGuy: I hate my fans
[11:05] ed: should i post it?
[11:05] NotFunnyGuy: YEAH

see? bitterness does make one funnier.

kids, this is what happens when you have no sense of humor

so Idaho joke guy decided that since the last joke he made up was funny, he would become a funny guy. he's been racking his brain trying to come up with another joke. here's our latest conversation.

[11:50] NotFunnyGuy: yo
[11:50] ed: yes
[11:50] NotFunnyGuy: got time for a joke?
[11:50] ed: oh crap
[11:50] ed: ok
[11:50] NotFunnyGuy: ahahha
[11:50] NotFunnyGuy: ok ok...
[11:51] ed: i the ho, you da ho
[11:51] ed: everyone ho
[11:51] ed: all the hos in the house
[11:51] NotFunnyGuy: what car announces where it's detination?
[11:51] ed: put your hand in the air and wave your ass like you just don't care
[11:51] ed: say "HO!!"
[11:51] ed: dunno
[11:51] ed: what
[11:52] NotFunnyGuy: ambulance
[11:53] ed: what/ don't get it
[11:53] ed: how is that a joke?
[11:53] NotFunnyGuy: cus it goes " ER ER ER ER
[11:53] ed: oh my fucking god
[11:53] ed: that's the worst joke ever ever ever
[11:53] NotFunnyGuy: ahahahah
[11:53] ed: oh god.
[11:54] ed: that was incredibly bad
[11:54] NotFunnyGuy: I love it
[11:54] ed: oh my god
[11:54] NotFunnyGuy: er er er er
[11:54] NotFunnyGuy: ahahahhah
[11:54] NotFunnyGuy: let me try it on someone
[11:54] ed: that's fucking lame as hell

if anyone finds that joke funny, there is no longer any hope for all humankind.

unreachable

in my latest blatantly pathetic attempt at an overhaul of my existence, i've gone mad. i've been trying to make small, insignificant changes in my life, just to make some changes. thought maybe that'd be a good first step to moving on into full adulthood.

so, what's the change, you ask. let me tell you about this significant change that will cause ripples to be felt at the 4 corners of the earth.

i finally decided to leave sprint. fucking assholes won't give me a new phone, so i'm off to cingular. they've ported the number over to cingular, but alas, my phone's not here yet. so if anyone calls me, you're going straight to my voicemail. as of right now, i cannot be reached.

i am unreachable, unattainable. i'm all that and a truckload of fucking potato chips.

dawn of the dead

5:30am. just got home. about to pass out.

"hmm....lemme take a picture with my new camera"

i look quite different in pictures than what i see of myself everday. i don't look like myself. it's weird.

my desk

$17 on old lotto tickets in a tigger mug. reminder of why i should start blowing money off on women and booze instead of lotto.

2 monitors, one on each side. 2 keyboards (1 normal, 1 ergonomic), 1 mouse and a trackball.

an avaya phone, covered with dust. i think i average about 1 phone call a week from the outside.

some sort of polished egg shaped rock. a gift from a co-worker when he was visiting china.

2 black pens, a pencil, a bottle of whiteout and a black sharpie in the tigger mug.

a red dry erase pen marker, another black pen, a red pen, and a yellow highlighter lying around the desk.

sunglasses, a packet of soy sauce from yesterday's chinese food, my cell, wallet and pda.

a yellow post-it pad and a couple wadded up tissue (how did that get there?)

dark crimson red swingline stapler (in honor of office space), a screw and a usb adapter.

i need to clean my desk.

dying here

it's raining outside. steady drizzle the whole morning, and by the looks of it, probably for the rest of the day too.

seeing how i never have cash on me, i can't go to the deli for food. and since i don't feel like walking outside in this wonderful weather, i decide to order chinese delivery with a bunch of co-workers.

that was about 1 hr ago. i am starving.
where is my food?!?!

haven't been this hungry for a long time. maybe it's because i didn't get coffee into my system this morning. hmmm....coffeee and donuts.....yum....

i need food now. i need food now. i need food now. i need food now. i need food now.
(i'm quite tempted to keep typing that over and over again until the food comes but then someone would probably call me retarded, which would really piss me off, because i hate being called retarded. i prefer mentally challenged)

so i'm going to keep writing until the food gets here, which i hope is soon, or i'll pretty much have to start typing out the alphabet.

Chingy's "Right Thurr" is playing on my launchcast radio now, in case anyone was wondering.

(i'm out of stuff to write, but i have to do something to occupy my time before the food gets here)

oh, i know. a friend of mine came up with this joke.

Which state named themselves the slutty state?
Idaho

hardy har har.

Muse's "Time is running out" is now playing on my launchcast radio. just an update, people.

chinese delivery guy nowhere to be found, people. i feel like gnawing on my own forearm. should i still tip the deliver guy? i mean, i already got all the food before i sign it, so he won't get the chance to spit in my food.

ok. calm down. the food will be here. calm down. breathe. think happy thoughts. happy thoughts.

my stomach just growled. i am now officially pissed.

Moby's "Porcelain" is now playing. i think i used to have that cd. not sure where it went though. i always lose my cds. after a while, all i'm left with are empty cd cases with the cover, mocking me, saying "your food's not here yet". oh, but i digress.

WHERE IS MY FOOD????

i'm about to get so hungry that i'm not hungry anymore. don't you just hate that? you want that satisfaction of killing off your hunger, that sweet


food here. goodbye.

~

lately, ideas for a post on this blog doesn't come to me as easily as before.

my first reaction was that ok, you're not funny anymore. but we all know that can't be true now, can it?

so i dig deeper. i think when i first started, i was in a down period of some sort. and we all know all writers are depressed fucks, not that i'm calling myself a writer or anything. and now that the well has dried up, does that mean that i'm in a happy place?

the answer to that is a resounding no. maybe i am not at my lowest point. maybe a couple things i've done in the past week are working, or maybe it's just a temporary patch, treating the symptom instead of the root.

not sure what is it, how long it's gonna last, but hey, enjoy the weather while it's good.

trails

time's fleeting. we know our time will end sooner or later, and most days, we're hoping for the latter.

all we can do is to live life as we see fit, do the things that brings us the most joy.

so i went out and bought a digital camera (finally!) so that the wind can never cover all the trails that i left in the sand.