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[24 Mar 2008|03:19pm] |
Whatever happens happens. I've finally realized who's most important in my life.
ME.
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[08 Oct 2007|10:59pm] |
"I shall become buddhist" said the boy to his father.
"I did that once, and the government shot me in the foot" the father replied.
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| hello |
[30 Aug 2007|04:13am] |
Life is pretty intense right now. I haven't written in this journal in forever, but as i was starting to write in a real journal i figured what the hell. As i was about to write this, a saved draft came up from I don't know when and it had a lot of negative thoughts in it. I'm glad I didn't post it, I feel stupid for having been so pessimistic. Things are definitely looking up right now. I'm inside someones heart, and that was one of the biggest things the unposted entry stressed... the need to be loved. So that there's taken care of, and I'm more than content with it.
The next and most important thing in life, and not just mine fortunately, is money. The root of all evil. I started working at Escondido's on Monday and the money seems ok, I'm going to ride it out for a few weeks and see what happens. The people are cool though, and I enjoy serving much better than any other job I've had. I'm finally starting to budget my money which has needed to be done for quite a few years.
Next, school. I hate myself for fucking up the chance I had in education, but I'm getting back into the game. Brookdale starts on Sept 6th, and I'll at least be getting working toward some greater end, which I have not done in awhile. I need to finish my registration for that or I'm screwed, so I'll do that tomorrow, since I'm off. Today rather.
Everyone has goals, short term and long term. Our goals are what keeps us going, what keeps our attitudes positive i think, and what keeps our heads from spinning uncontrollably. In the past year or two I have not had any solid attainable goals, and that's a large problem. I put fun and friends in front of my life and my goals, and although I've got more stories than Ben Franklin, I have nothing to show for the past few months.
My goal is to move out. I'd like to be out by Jan 1st, and that is more than possible, provided that I buckle down and don't be stupid with money. However this brings me to my short term goals, which are getting out of the hole I've dug myself into. Only when I'm ground level again can I reach the sky. Work and school will both play into this new lifestlye I need to live, because I cannot live like I have been.
Matt Peter moves to Florida tomorrow. Nesdill has gone back to school. Timmy B leaves Saturday. Ace is home, but he leaves for tour again Sept 30th. Other friends work full time and are starting school soon. The girls are in Philly, working and schooling. Everyone is finding there niche, its almost September.
It's time for Tony Vangi to get back in his. Take care of yourself.
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| hello |
[20 Jun 2006|02:38am] |
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I dont know if anyone reads these things anymore, so I figured I'd make it easier. My head is my journal and my mouth is my keyboard. You want to know how my life is? 732-259-5240. I don't think I'll be updating this for awhile, so if you'd like to know about my world and how you fit into it then pick up a telephoning device and call me. I'd love to talk to you, but this 21st century bullshit must go. Take care of yourself
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| Halloween. |
[01 Nov 2005|02:26pm] |
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And there we were, standing at the Gates of Hell. A long, dark passage in front of us, to what? We couldn't even imagine. I lit up a Camel and we plunged into it. The thin air cut through us, we had nothing but our glasses and hoods to protect us from Satan's tricks. And temptation was everywhere. Tables lined our passage, begging us to stop and think about our decision, perhaps our last decision. I looked to my right and there was darkness. Noises I'd never knew existed came from those depths, and I stared at them with great fear. But it would take more than fear to stop us.
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[11 Oct 2005|05:05am] |
And mother shes got eyes I thought I never would see,
They'd make a sailor swim home after a day out at sea.
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[03 Sep 2005|05:10pm] |
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Today you were walking down George Street, behind the Building of Social Work and behind the German House. As you crossed Seminary Place you came across a chain link fence. Vines and weeds were intertwined with each link of the fence, making it hard to tell where it began and ended. As you cam closer to the fence, you spotted a flock of small birds perched on top. Sparrows perhaps. Maybe something else, you're not too keen on bird species. As you came within five feet of the flock, almost as if a gun shot had sounded, about ten or so birds scattered into the air, flying as fast and far as possible. But as five feet became four feet, and then three feet, and then two, you noticed one bird that hadn't moved. You stopped, a mere six inches from the bird. It flicked its tail feathers, and turned its head, not toward you, but obviously it knew you were there. In a voice that hadn't been used for awhile, you said, "nice to meet you". The bird flicked its tail feathers again, and turned its head again, to the left, then back to the right, and continued to hold it's ground. You smiled, and continued your walk, now towards Bishop Place. You stopped about fifteen feet ahead of the fence, and turned around to look back. The flock had returned to the fence, and you heard the chirping clearly. Again, you smiled, and then turned and walked on.
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[02 Sep 2005|01:23am] |
The boy felt jaded, manipulated by life. He knew what everything should feel like but it just didn't. He knew exactly what he wanted but he couldnt get it. Not in just the sense of one person or one thing, but in life. The feelings he knew should be pumping through his body, making him feel invincible, making him feel alive just weren't there. He was close, so close he could almost taste it, but it seemed that the flavor was slowly dying out, like a stick of Carefree bubblegum. Carefree, he laughed to himself. The more carefree he became the more he slipped into a state of uncharacteristic denial. Was there a rehab for life? The only solace he knew was in himself, and that was quietly shutting, giving way to a new sunrise, one that left some things mysterious. Stop it? Why should he? It was the only thing he had left. It was too late for him to change, because changing was the problem. If change is the enemy, whats the protagonist? To go back to old ways would be more than impossible, beside the fact that this would mean more change. To stop this evolution would be to stop fate. Was it fate? Are feelings fate or just actions? So the future was dismal, the present disheartening, and the past long gone and impossible. Alcohol would be a temporary fixer, as would drugs, and this he knew. He felt that all he had was himself. Yes there were people that "loved" him and "cared" about him, but these people could not do a thing to help him. The problem lied deep within. He told himself that he would give no thought to their comforting statements, but the truth was that they meant the world to him. But they would never be said. The things that meant the world to him would never be done, never be real, never be true. He'd never get what he wanted when he wanted, and such was life. Such IS life. Desire must thrive for happiness to get its chance. Pain was the pregame to his dream life. The tv said pregames only last about an hour. The tv lied. Just another piece in the puzzle box. Say it. The time was 1:40 in the morning, and he had things to do early. Would these "things" mean anything to him? No. Again, they were just unimportant pieces of time, forming stepping stones to nowhere. They in no way helped him mature, helped him grow, helped him learn. He already knew sadness, he knew it all too well. And yes, the advocate said, he knew happiness too. But shouldnt there be some sort of balanced equilibrium? Apparently not. Equilibrium, another unnecessary word filling in space between the stones. He missed the sporadic moments. He knew the taste of oppurtunity all too well, but he could not grasp it. Those buses flew by night after night. He couldnt even wave to the driver.
Whatever, he thought. The sweaty basements, cheap beer, and somewhat promising oppurtunity of the frat basements would help him forget. Until Saturday, he said. Until Saturday.
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[05 Jun 2005|09:39pm] |
wow.
i havent updated ina little, but this weekend calls for one.
if my calculations are correct, i figured out that:
Tony + Wildwood + Alcohol + Freehold Township High School = The Greatest Weekend Ever.
Besides the few hours of sleep I got, I was intoxicated from 3 am saturday until 3 pm today.
the best part of the weekend?? I dont remember parts of it.
Here's to you wildwood, I thank you with all my heart.
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[14 May 2005|05:52pm] |
Its my 18th birthday today, and its going very well.
Last night i was...well, just read the last post. Coherence anyone? I think not.
If you werent there last night, u missed the fuck out. If you were, you were one of my good friends.
Tonight I shall be celebrating round 2 of the birthday bonanza.
Let the games begin.
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[14 May 2005|02:14am] |
yo soy drunk.
so nething i say cannot be held against me in a court of law.
i am your ambulance
i am your hospital bed.
i am your savior.
i am these voices in your head.
i am your virtues.
i am your courage.
im your constitution.
i am your pledge.
i am your happiness.
i am your lonliness.
i am your endlessness.
done.
im alone in my garage and everyone is out in my kitchen/livingroom/diningroom area.
honestly i will not get any tonite because their is like 4 girls here.
but tomorrow, i hope to get some.
i hope to get some.
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[05 May 2005|11:10pm] |
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the boy began thinking. thinking about how life didnt mean as much anymore. life just didnt do it for him anymore. the year in general didnt do it for him so far. he'd heard such great things, and his friends, well they seemed to be happy. where was his happiness? it was sitting in his dresser. the boy's face started to drop, he heard lectures in his head, he heard the words of many other boys. he slowly remembered each talk, each group advice, and every shaking finger pointing his way. every boring finger from every fake friend who acted as happy as child on christmas. were they fake? what is fake? "is my happiness fake?" the boy thought. he had some fun times, but they just werent enough. he recalled stories from his friends of their amazing nights in different countries, or they're beautiful evening with their girlfriend. what stories did he have? he didnt have anything in his life that made him smile uncontrollably, that gave him butterflies, and that made him cringe in anticipation. except his happiness. the happiness in his dresser. that made him smile. "how could they try and take it away?" he questioned. arent some of their activities just as dangerous? he thought so. everyone takes risks, the boy thought. we are young, and we are full of pep. piss and vinegar flashed grandpa. risks are the spice of our lives. it was these friends that first opened his happiness, and they now tried to close it? fuck them and their advice. "do they honestly worry that much?" he wondered. do they care that much? after a few months he'd hardly see most of them again. so why did they matter? obviously if his life was boring they weren't the right friends. or was he not the right friend? was anyone right? "fine", he thought. its their opinion, he decided. if it bothers them that much, do they think about it on those beautiful nights? he thought not. they could give a damn about him or his happiness on those beautiful nights. they cared about themselves on those nights, so on this nite he cared about himself. on every night he cared about himself, and if they felt the need to interject, they could. but, he stopped, they should know that he had found his happiness, and he'd be happy all the time. because they can be happy all they want. it all evens out in the end, these petty things.
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[28 Apr 2005|04:39pm] |
There we stood.
Grazing your ambitions.
Hoping.
I hoped.
Did you?
Silence and spinning.
I felt it.
Did you?
They're watching us.
I saw it.
Did you?
They're grinding their teeth.
Taking
Deep
Breaths.
I'm a believer.
Switch on your bravery Charles.
(click)
Dont be afraid Wendy. We'll be fine.
(But they're still watching......
watching.....
watching....
watching...
watching..
watching.
Don't whisper. They'll feel it. They're inside you Wendy.
Charles No!
Charles what are you doing?
Charles get away from that light!!!
Charles! Charles you're fading!!!
(The curtains fall.)
(Curtains always seem to fall at odd times. The curtain's the last thing you'd expect. Not even a dendrite on your deepest neuron. Its nowhere.)
But isnt that what we love?
(Darkness and Deepbreaths.)
(Heartbeat.)
Sitting and shaking.
Charles!
Charles!
CHARLES!
(SCREAM)
(shriek, stumble)
R u n n i ng.
R u n n ing.
(Darkess and voice.)
(Happiness On?)
(Smile On?)
"What is this?" she thought.
"Hello?"
(A face at the end of it.)
(At the end of it.)
(Fear On.)
A constant awe.
Jaw to the floor.
Please! Let me out!
PLeAsE!
PLEASE!
(Motions slow. Darkeness falls again.)
Eyes open.
Memory Open.
Go Back 1 day.
Nothing.
(Confusion On.)
Go Back 2 days.
Nothing.
Go Back 1 week.
(Processing, Processing, Proce
STOP!
Charles was right there. He started to fade. He faded.
There was a voice.
(Confusion On, Sadness On, Fear On.)
(System Overload.)
(Off.)
(Curtain?)
(I Think Not.)
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[10 Apr 2005|11:30pm] |
I am sorry Ms. Jackson.
I am for real.
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[30 Mar 2005|11:07pm] |
One Word, Describe Life.
Magical
Experimental
Pragmatic. or laconic.
Vivacious
Spontaneous
Exciting. No, chaotic.
Stressful
Good
Exhilarating
Passion
Rad
Overanalyzed
Challenge
Life
Relentless
Shit
Everything
Shenanigans
Ummmmm. Ummmmm is good.
Ours
Some asked questions, some took time to think. Some were confused, and some were just plain wierded out.
But not one person said the same word. I love it. Life is
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[27 Mar 2005|12:34am] |
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She looked him straight in the eye. Helpless. On the verge of breaking. He knew it. He caused it. The silence was becoming noticeable, you know that point where its not thinking but not awkward yet. That one split second that seems harmless but changes everything. And that second passed. Now he was starting to worry, he pressed his hands on his forehead and pulled back his hair. And now she spoke. She broke the silence, and he was thrilled about it. A chance at normality was on the table, and as her lips began to move he was like a child on Chrismas Eve. "Just tell me one thing," she said with a shaky voice. She wiped her eyes and nose and looked him straight in the eye. "Why," she said. "Why are you doing this?" He stood still. He couldnt look at her face. "WHY!" she yelled, and fell back onto his bed. He went to hold her and she hit his hand away. It was a smack that tore him apart. "Why can't you answer me?" she cried. And with his damaged spirits he opened his mouth, with full intentions of justifying himself...but there was nothing. Was he justified? Was he right? This is what I want, he said. He repeated it. She stood, and he looked up at her with slowly filling eyes. She returned the same look, and the moment came when they should have both realized that they were meant for eachother. But they didnt. She started crying and walked out, and he slammed his head into a pillow and pulled the blankets up over his head...
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[13 Mar 2005|10:23pm] |
I can honestly say I've come to a very confusing point. Usually life is confusing in general, but now the confusing parts have baffling aspects of them as well. In fact I am not sure whats going on. I think I'm changing. O wait, I am. Im changing. I am a completely different person. This is wierd. Im at a fork in life. Everything is decisions decisions. Somethings definitely happening. Wait, where are my feet?? Im looking down and cant even see them anymore. They look like they've faded away. Wait, now my legs are gone. NOOO, its moving up into my waist. Now my stomach is engulfed in this vaporization, and, and, now my chest is gone. Uh oh, there goes my neckkk, and and and...there goes my head.
Let's get this story straight. A goes to B then to C. Nothing else. A causes B and B causes C. Theres no way around it. However, when A is chosen and executed and it comes time for B, B has a choice. It can go with it in hopes that C will be better, or it can end the cycle and possibly prevent more unwanted circumstances that C might have brought. It's a toss up. But its all in B's hands. They hold the dice. They hold the torch. They have control. A has no power in B's decision.
Whatever, i guess the only similarity between life and letters is the l's and e's.
This world just turns and turns and turns.
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[06 Mar 2005|08:24pm] |
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The boy opened his eyes. Sunlight attacked his corneas and he immediately squinted. The room slowly made sense and he hated it. Another day for him to ruin. He looked up towards the ceiling. "God, why do you give me more days when you know i waste them?" There was no answer. His stomach hurt, but he didnt pay any attention to it. He turned his legs off the bed and stood, stretching and groaning at the same time. He walked downstairs to find his mother at the table. She was crying. He stood still, staring. She lifted her head, and in a slightly muffled whine she said "Boy, sit down here. Lets talk." The boy walked over and pulled out a chair, he put his knees up on the chair and sat on them. Fidgeting with his pajama pants, his mother grabbed him by the chin and said "You listen up, boy. Listen to every word that comes out of your mothers mouth, ya hear?" The boy nodded and she let go. He massaged his cheeks as she took a sip of her drink. "Once upon a time is bullshit honey," she began, "just a way of making people think whatever happened before a story starts was all good. Them damn authors never start a story with 'It was right after pop's death' or 'They had just gotten evicted'. No, they start it with their damn prince and princess in love and the prince never does anything wrong. Fuck those authors, son, fuck those authors. In life you will never get a princess. You'll get a middle class girl who smiles everytime she sees you and fucks another guy everytime shes not with you. You'll get screwed by everyone you ever meet except for a handful of people, and those people that are supposedly your friends will think about screwing you over more than the ones that did. You'll wake up every morning and ask why God dealt you this hand but then you'll keep betting and betting that hand til you're dead. You'll get an education but no math or english will help you in life. You'll go to college and you'll drink yourself happy. You'll marry and you'll tell everyone how happy you are, but you'll continue to drink yourself into oblivion night after night. You'll buy a flask and fill it 4 times a day, you'll smoke 2-3 packs of cigarettes a day, and perhaps once in while do some drugs to really make you feel invigorated. You'll spend more time at the barstool than any bed and you'll write cute little poems and short stories so you can feel important and use one percent of the stuff you learned in school. You'll pray to a God that you never actually get to talk to and your life will become so routine that dropping a cup of coffee will make you smile for weeks. You'll go to funerals of people you dont even care about and hardly ever knew, and you'll say sorry to the widowed but truly smile since you still have ur spouse. You'll have kids and you're one reward in life will be to raise them right, but you'll realize thats impossible because humans are evil no matter what. Your kids will hate you by the time they are teenagers and then call you ten years later because they cant install their new cabinets. Your kids will chew you up and spit you out every chance they get. And you're response should just be, 'I love you.' And oh yes, you guessed it, you'll grow old and be happy and you'll retire with your little yacht in the atlantic ocean and hope every night that it sinks and takes you with it. You'll stare at your bank statements and laugh in content but then realize your going to die and your kids are going to buy drugs with it all." It was here that the boy began to cry. He wailed and wailed and kicked and screamed but his mother grabbed him and yelled "You stay here!". He cried as hard as he'd ever cried before. His mother leaned in and with her mouth directly on his ear, she whispered, "You listen here, son. You get the last laugh though. There is light at the end of our tunnel. Someday, you will come to the end. The end might be far away, but know that it will come. And do you know what the beauty is? The end is something we dont know about. The end could be the opposite of the beginning. Maybe the story will start with 'They lived happily...'. Or Maybe nothing will happen, just darkness. Its the ultimate surprise. You wait, it will be worth it, i promise." The boy tugged away and ran back to his room. He slammed the door and locked it, tears steaming down his cheeks. Laying on his bed, he thought to himself how much he wanted to find out this ultimate surprise. How bad could it be? He laughed. His stomach still hurt, and he wondered what was wrong. He took the pills over 30 mins ago.
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