magnetic effect

they had tiles on the ceiling of the room. tiles that collectively resembled the blue outdoor sky, which was fine and dandy and soothing, except for the fact that half your body was under a gigantic magnet.

a gigantic magnet that kept on whrrr’ing.
and clicking.
and humming.

you’re lying under it, trying to hold your fucking left hand still, because you were told so, and you don’t know exactly what the consequences are if you actually moved it one nano-inch.

so you close your eyes and try to relax, only to find yourself drifting in and out of reality. you know the twilight zone you dwell on for a split second just before you drift off to sleep at night? the semi-dream-awake zone?

there I laid for what seemed like both an instant and eternity, with all kind of junk flashing through my mind.

I thought of golf, of how I would rework my swing and tear up the course when my wrist heals.

I thought of you, you of the past, you of the never was, you of the undefined. cats, emails, coffee, 8 27 66.

I thought of flying and living, travelling and spending, reading and writing.

I thought of munch’s “the vampire”, vermeer’s “lady writing a letter with her maid”, and robbing the louvre.

I thought of swimming with fishes, napping with dandan, laughing with you, eating by myself.

then I woke up, and an hour had passed.

cause and effect

it’s been established that my social skills isn’t one of my strongest points. as a matter of fact, a friend once described me as “most antisocial person i know next to a dead guy”. yeah. that’s me all right. ok. let’s move on.

i’ve recently come to realize how perilous that can be.

not social -> stay home -> eat all day -> get fat -> no friends -> no FEMALE friends -> no relationships -> no sex -> master masturbator -> severe wrist inflammation -> no golf -> relinquishing CPC (crappy players championship) cup -> depression -> anti-social++

see how the evil cycle perpetuates itself?

i’m doomed, aren’t i?

bored at work

found this game on some page linked from halfcrazed.

The rules:
The unfortunately tagged have to write an entry of between 100-200 words, with these words included once, and only once:
I
me
blowjob
grapes
random
power
loneliness
water
robot
blue

---------------------------------------------

A new disease surfaced.

It infected at random, with incredible pace, and within a matter of days, the whole world was blanketed by it.

people everywhere walked around with a glaze over their eyes. Depression swept the world. Productivity worldwide suffered and dropped to an all time low. The number of suicides increased 10 fold. Those in power started to worry and following a global summit, produced the following resolutions: ban the color blue and add anti-depressants to drinking water.

Nothing worked. More and more people sank into depression.

Loneliness became the mantra of society. Sitting around and just stare into the air, eating grapes without spitting out the seeds. Waiting for nothing.

Human interaction became a thing of the past. Sex, blowjobs, dinner parties, cookouts faded from human daily vocabulary. “I don’t care” became the decade’s most popular phrase, ahead of “Leave me the fuck alone”, “Eat shit and die” and “Fuck off, talk to the robot.”

Scientists, when not entangled in severe depression, tried to find an antidote for the global outbreak, but in the end, executed a mass suicide when it was clear they didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on.

(196 words)

---------------------------------------------

lemonade, anyone?

ok. hi.

yeah, i’ve been neglecting you lately.  don’t be mad.  

things have been a bit chaotic lately, you know.  normally, it’s like this : when life gives you lemons, you make the best of it and make lemonade.  but for me, it’s more like this : ed is greedy.  ed buy a box of “apples”.  turns out it’s rotting lemons.  um, yeah.  oh well.  it’s self inflicted.  i guess i’m a sadistic fuck after all.

another reason is the lack of anonynimity (spell check has no suggestions on how to correctly spell this, and i’m really not in the mood to m-w it, so deal with it)that this blog offers.  some people i knew read this, and that’s fine with me.  its the rest that scares me.  i’ve already had to retract a post because of it, which, in all honesty, i did go a tad overboard with it.  but now i can’t write a whole bunch of stuff, because you all know nothing good ever comes out of my mouth.

but really, those are all excuses.  the real reason is i just don’t have anything to offer.  more and more i feel like a beaten man.  sleep deprived, tired and no way out.  everyday things just don’t offer any more funny, insightful tidbits anymore.

i’m not depressed, i don’t think.  i’m content, but not.  i’m happy, but not.  i’m unhappy, but not.

makes sense, but doesn’t, does it?

email correspondence

jimmy lea just sent me this email :

subject:
SAVE 85% VIAGR*, AMBIE*, VALIU* & ALL HOT MEDICATIONS, YOU PAY AND WE SHIP, NO QUESTIONS principle

body:
few being miserable. how few friends.commit arms wrong promised. why prison disappoint?am bought fascinate. being reading promised window? taught companion motor corner light.pride speaking speaking motor already out. corner arms thus whom already next. pride find appearance.reading companion window commit use? pride my wife, already few motor sugar how.

-----

best. spam. ever.

i wish i could've written something as cryptic as that. sigh. if only i had the talent.

old socks

in the morning, i'm usually about 30 minutes late getting out the door. i rush to get ready, and in the process grab a random pair of socks from the drawer. most times, it's a pair that's old, worn out and full of holes. yes, i'm just GQ like that.

everyday when i get back home and take off my shoes, i tell myself to throw them out. and yet every time, it gets thrown back into the laundry basket, back for another twirl.

so maybe i don't get to decide when my old socks should be thrown away. maybe it'll get squeezed back further and further back in the drawer as i get more and more pairs of socks, and one day, it'll just disappear into thin air.

whatever it may be, it'll be. until then, i guess i'll be walking around with my toes sticking out of my socks.

b. a. d.

beat.  angry.  disappointed.  

i started to write.

then everything stalled.  sentences come out jumbled and ugly.  thoughts came flying unorganized and chaotic.

how do you translate the anger you feel into words?  the kind of anger that “fuck you” won’t suffice.  the kind of anger where you can only laugh to avoid spontaneous combustion.  the kind that keeps you up at night, causing your heart rate to spike, your ears to burn.

how do you explain the disappointment you feel?  the type that makes you question your previous judgments and reevaluate them one by one, just to avoid being disappointed like this ever again.  the kind that reaffirms your belief that humans aren’t intrinsically good.  the kind that makes you trust others even lesser now.  the kind that makes you become even more cynical about everything around you.

if this is any indication of how 06 will be, please, someone, please run me over with a car.

here's wishing

smiles for everyone in the new year

(even if they're forced)