Fuck you Ben Franklin. Fuck you work, Fuck you whoever kept paging me, and not leaving a real number

TDOTHT - [Cthulhu Dreams]--- I worked. i missed the Ritual.I missed All of the Masq's Hollwe'en party. I was in a parade. I'm too tired to be angry. I want to go to bed. Going to check the mail.

There's a beautiful Fog, rolling in, around my house. I burned an effigy of my gods damned job. I hate the way these things go... I'm so tired... i drank syrup, at waffle house. Here's the Horror Scope:

Things could be moving and shaking in your life today, Wolven, with people popping up all over the place. Family members could stop by for a visit. Friends might bump into you and invite you to join them for dinner. Your phone could be ringing off the hook, as people want to connect with you and share some energy. You may have to sort through these calls and figure out who you want to work into your schedule today.

Heh. Sleep will be a good thing, then. I'm off.

Damn daylight savings time,

Dream

Fire, Ice, Snowflakes, & Ashes.

Moxy Fruvous - [Nuits de Reve]--- I remember that my dreams involved Jyn, her artwork, and a race of turtle people. Me, Jyn, her family, and Alexis were all eating dinner, in my dead grandfather's house, in D.C. The Turtle people had all of these various chants, and they sounded like Buddhists, chanting Krishnas, even the ones that were obviously Catholic.... (Bobgoblin - [Close Your Eyes, Kids]). There were some other things, i guess, but it's difficult to remember. There was a definite feeling of There-ness...

I work today, and it's yet another exciting game of "Who can get Wolven to work, on time?" Apparently no one. (Moxy Fruvous - [Laika]). I'm going to have to Walk to the Marta station. 3 or four miles away, then walk from the Other station, to work. Huzzah. i think that Karishi's right. Something is trying to make me explode. I can't say as i appreciate it. At all.

TDOTHT - [Walking On The Moon]--- I'm busy, trying to do house shit, i don't know of any other jobs, and all of my friends seem to be in similar situations, on some level or another. Either that, or Nothing is going on with them. Last night Felt, really good, once i got out in the world, but it still wasn't what i expected, or Exactly wanted. I enjoyed it. Especially the Fog. Thank you.

Moxy Fruvous - [Bittersweet]---But that doesn't Change the fact that i Hate my damn job. And everyone realises it. I don't remember Despising anything, as much as i despise this... It's like the essence of Catch 22, embodied in a work environment. Good pay, and i need the money, but it drives me insane, and i can't leave because, etc. (Moxy Fruvous - [Darlington Darling]). i need Food. I need Alcohol. Because drinking myself into an alcohol-drowned coma sounds really nice, right about now... I need to leave at TWO, to fucking make sure that i get to my gods-rotted Job on time. I hate-hate-hate this.

Bobgoblin - [Pretty In My Uniform]--- Considering the sarcastic tone of this song, i can't decide if Winamp is with me, or against me, or simply laughing at me.... *sigh* i'm going to check me damn mail.

Later.

Ab-So-lutely.

http://www.redmeat.com/redmeat/1997-09-22/index.html

"I want you to notice, when I'm not around...."

He ticks off, subconsciously, the list of people he hasn't seen, today. There's a surprisingly large number. Where is everyone? He shrugs, and goes back to eating his lunch (something scrounged from the fridge, at home), and reading his book (oldskool cyberpunk, for the second or fifth time). He's always loved this story; the feeling of connection with an artificial thing, always makes him shiver. Technology, wanting only to be beside us, as equals, being placed above us, as gods. So tragic, and true... He looks up, and around, as he smells a brief whiff of something burning. It's strangely familiar...

There's no one in the courtyard. This isn't that, "hey-there-are-a-few-people-out-here-but-no-one-i-know," no one-- this is No One. Even the janitors are gone...

He checks his pager, for the time, and sees that it's only 1.45-- there should still be a Lot of people, out here. He begins to wonder, slightly, whta the Fuck is going on here, his paranoia being slightly on edge, as it is. He gathers up his things, and makes for the University Center. There's Always Someone, in the University Center. As he crosses, over-side, to the old building, and the cafeteria, he sees what look like after images, or heat haze, floating above the side walks and streets... But they look like people and cars... There'll be someone, in the University Center. He has decided this, with near Word-like finality.

There's no one in the University Center. He wanders around, through the corridors, calling out names, and listening to the Muted echo, his voice garners, for it's trouble. And the construction crews are gone. He finds a pay phone, and hears nothing, from the reciever. Not a static hiss, not the deadness of something blocking the cradle. Simply nothing. The sheer Lack and Antithesis of sound, coming from that phone, is deafening. It threatens to pull him into the earpiece, and he slams it back down, onto the base. He s;lups down, to the floor, and realises the inherent futility found stealing anything, or, otherwise, running amok, at this juncture (it's not like he'd be getting away with it; there's simply no one there to stop him). So, he is utterly alone, and supremely bored. Wonderful.

He pulls out his book, again, and wonders, briefly, where everyone went. Then he giggles, softly, to himself, and says, "Heheh. Wintermute..." Resuming his reading, he wonders what the next change will be...

_________________

She's looking for her friends, and wanting to go to lunch. She notes that the courtyard is rather empty, today, and simply attributes it to the year, drawing to a close. She takes a small break, to go to the rest room and, when she returns, everyone is gone.

She looks around, sniffs the air and wonders aloud, "Is something burning...?"

And then it's gone.

(c)Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved

Dashed hopes....

And, Somehow, my trek to work, was shittier than i had planned. But better, in some ways, as well. Here's how it went:

Not only did the bus Not come, but i saw the one i needed, going the opposite, direction, when i was walking to the station. So i thought it Would, eventually, be there. So i sat on the wall, at my usual bus stop, and i waited. And i waited. And i Fucking waited. And, at around 3.17 (after having Gotten to said stop at 2.40, or so), i realise that the bus isn't going to be there, any time soon. So i take off down the street, with plans to look over my shoulder, every so often, to make sure that i'm not going to miss a bus/stop.

As i've said, it's a good two-mile trek, from the house, to the station, at least. I'm walking the second leg of this, looking over my shoulder, when it occurs to me that i should try to hail a taxi. Then i realise that there's not going to be another taxi on this street, past two blocks ago.

(Side Note: you may be wondering why this didn't occur to me, while i was still in the comfort of my own psuedo-home. Well it did, i simply didn't have the cash, required to pay That fare. Revel in that sadness, as an aside to the rest of this. Back to the story.)

So i keep walking, still looking over my shoulder, to the Marta staiton. The bus never comes. When i get a block and a half, from the station, i just decide to stop looking. There's no longer a point. Period. Luckily the bus doesn't show, while i'm Anywhere Near the station, or i would have killed my cabbie, in a fit of blind rage.

So i get a cab, obviously, and i take it to work. The fare is $6, and i give him seven, including tip, and i arrive at work at 3.47, or so. All that hell, and i get here EARLY. I So need a car... like... Right Now...

I'm off to read more Neuromancer.

Later.

Would you piss on me, if i was on fire? Or It Really is That Simple.

I've been wondering, oddly enough, at who would miss me, if i wasn't there... The ones who would, the most, are the ones who don't even have to say it, anymore. I can name them off, in my head, but it takes a while... The reason i ask is, or should be, quite obvious. I think about you all, all the time.

Radiohead - [Thinking About You]--- I think about you, all the time, and i wonder at your abscences, and where you've gone, and what you're doing... Maybe this is simply another one of those little things that i do, that other people think of as obsessive, but if i've ever had more than three conversations, with you, and i see you one a regular basis, and i Don't, one day, then i'm going to wonder. Similarly, i'd like to talk to some of you, more than i do, in more personalised ways. But that's logistically improbable, due to the lack of hours in a day, long distance charges, the cost of plane tickets, and the fact that my maximum number of IM windows is, generally, a steady Nine....

But, at this point, i'm merely wondering, if i'm the only one who catalogues the Theres and Not-Theres, in their daily lives. All of my other "DysFunctional" behaviours have been integrated, and i don't even think of them as discordant, with the world, anymore. They are simply the way i'm Wired... Strung... Carved. "Once i was a wooden boy, a little wooden boy..." And so on....

Electric Hel Fire Club. i like the thought of that...

As the Man, Johnny5, said "INput!"

later, taters