When I move back to the city, I want to take my piano with me.
I want to sit down and get stoned and play "Brick" by Ben Folds Five and make you love me.
I'm going to miss making music... playing my sax ain't the same as playing my piano. And yes, even though mom 'n dad bought it so me and Heidi could take lessons when we were younger, it's mine. It's probably my most treasured possession besides my pet rock.
Yes, you read that correctly. I have a pet rock. His name is "The Rock", and I've had him since I was about twelve years old. I can remember the exact moment where I picked up the rock and said to myself, "this would make an excellent pet rock"... And I remember painting a face on it. And I'm looking at it right now.
So if that's not proof I'm a little nuts, I don't know what is. And no, I'm not trying to prove my insanity. Just one conversation with me in real life would do that. The internet can only do so much to show how nuts a person is.
I received another email from MUN this morning, but I'm not quite sure what to make of it. I already got some information from them a few weeks ago, saying that they received my application, and the correspondence had a student number and what I'm going to major in.
However, today, the email said that my application was accepted and I should receive information in the mail very shortly. The optimist in me likes to think this means I'm going to be a student very soon. To say this is an exciting time for me is just a sliiiiiiight understatement.
HAH
who am I kidding? I'm proud as fuck of myself. Didn't I say back in January that 2009 is gonna be the year of Matthew Baker? I'm going to finally make something of myself.
Some people might argue that I've already done something... some might not. But I feel my best work as a human being is yet to come. And I do have a goal for when I become a student. I'm writing it down here so it'll become more concrete. I am going to get straight A's.
That is, of course, as long as I don't have to do any math courses. Math is gonna rape me.
But mark my words, I will do better than anyone ever gave me credit for... how? Because I truly and completely believe in myself.
I spoke to someone tonight that I haven't spoken to in quite some time; an old and very dear friend from my days as an air cadet, and I got a little disheartening news. Without going too much into it, I hope you come out of this smelling like a rose. You know who you are, if you happen to read this.
Hmm... I'm a little tired. It's kinda strange, considering I don't normally go to bed these days until close to 2am. I've been up watching Jay Leno a lot... I think it's because I made myself stay up to watch the last two weeks of Conan's shows, and he came on right after Leno. The only positive thing about Conan not being on TV now is that he'll return in May to take over for Jay Leno. I don't think there could possibly be a more suitable replacement. Conan O'Brien is one of the funniest guys on television... the only shitty thing about him coming on at an earlier timeslot is that there'll be no more Masturbating Bear.
Speaking of talk shows, a (not so) secret desire of mine is to be a talk-show host. Who knows? If I want it bad enough, I could make it happen. If I set the seeds now, maybe the idea will come to fruition soon.
I was out for another walk tonight, and my legs are even sorer (is that even a word?) than they were last night. I really should do more stretching, or walking, or whatever...
But I guess I have to get into the swing of things if I'm going to be moving back to the city. I plan on walking as much as I possibly can, and I want to get myself into shape before I actually go there.
I'm still doing the pushups. I'd like to think there's been a slight improvement, but I don't really know. My man boobs seem to be shrinking, but my chest seems like it's bigger. I dunno. It's really hard to tell. Maybe I'm not doing them right. I have no clue how to do it properly. I just do as many pushups as I can after breakfast, wait until my chest doesn't hurt anymore, then do more pushups, then take a break. Usually mid-afternoon I'll do the same thing, and follow suit again in the evening. Again, I'd like to think it's making a difference, but I don't really know. I just can't tell. It's not that I want to lose weight, because I'm satisfied being 6'0" and nearly 200 lbs. As far as I can tell, that's pretty average.
But I'm just sick of looking like a gross ol' blob, and I refuse to do steroids or take whey powder.
That's not to say that I care what my girl will look like. If she's a little pudgy, then that's cool. If she's skinny as a stick, then that's cool too.
But enough about that. Every time I talk about girls (or any one girl in particular), things always backfire on me.
Soooooo in light of that, I'm off to do more pushups. After that, it's Jay Leno time. If you happen to read this before Leno comes on, make sure you tune in tonight. Barack Obama is scheduled to be a guest tonight. As far as I know, it is gonna be a history making show, because no president has ever been a guest on the show.
Anyhoo, I'm off like a prom dress... or a jewish foreskin. You take your pick. Either one works for me, but the prom dress is decidedly less offensive... well, to jews anyway.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
"Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm a man of wealth and taste"
Ever listen to the Guns 'n Roses version of "Sympathy for the Devil"?
Do it. Go d/l it right now, then come back and listen to it as you read this blog. I get an emotional hard on every time I hear it.
Come to think of it, I get an emotional boner every time I listen to G'N'R. I really love those guys. I'm kinda sore they haven't put out any new music since I was in grade 6. Yes, I'm fully aware of "Chinese Democracy", but that doesn't count as a Guns album. It's Axl Rose and four guys who probably weren't even old enough to have pubes when Appetite for Destruction was released.
Ahhhhh Appetite. Now there's an album to -ahem- "make love" to.
I'm in a pretty decent mood this evening. I would think that'd be obvious, considering this is my second blog entry of the day. Maybe it's because I was out for a walk tonight. Maybe it's because I did some real work today, when I shoveled some snow off the front lawn.
But whatever it is, I feel great.
I feel like a million and a half bucks. Mentally and physically, I'm on top of the world. When people say exercise makes you feel great, they ain't bullshitting you.
Reading never hurts, either. I haven't read many positive books lately, but I think I should start up again. I'm thinking of going over the "Monk" book I've praised so highly in the past, before I go back to school. As good as my spirits are right now, it would never hurt for some extra "lifting".
Speaking of lifting spirits, I was given cause to wonder about something earlier this evening before I went on my walk. I'm sure everyone in Newfoundland (and even those of you who live away, if you still read this) is aware of the terrible tradgedy that happened a week ago, when that helicopter crashed off the coast and killed 18(?) people. A casual aquaintance of mine's father was on that flight. My heart goes out to her.
What I'm getting at here is this... When people are faced with times of extreme grief and pain, they turn to religion.
Why?
They pray as if some unseen force will make them feel better.
I ain't knocking religion, but I just don't see how asking something that may not even exist will help you. I know that comment very well may piss off some people, but when have I ever been worried about pissing people off?
I'm not trying to say I think religion is dumb. I mean, whatever works for ya... Go nuts. I ain't going to judge. But it just ain't my bag, baby. That's not to say that I wouldn't get married in a church, if the opportunity arose. I'm not saying that if I ever found myself a nice catholic girl, I wouldn't marry her.
But religious beliefs aren't as important to me as they once were.
I like to live my life for me. I refuse to "serve and obey" anyone.
Okay, before I end up figuratively cutting my own balls off, I'm going to shut up on the religion talk. I usually end up putting my foot in my mouth with that. As much as I'm not worried about offending anyone, there is really one person in particular I don't wish to offend. I'm not even sure if she still reads the blog, because I haven't spoken to her in over a month now... but we'll just leave 'er at that.
I need to write an email to someone... I need to apologize for a few things I've said. I want to clear the air between me and a dear friend... I just don't know how receptive they'll be.
But who would I be if I didn't take a chance?
I need need need to learn "He ain't heavy" on piano. I've got it on again, and my arms are covered in goosebumps. You really owe it to yourself to download this song. While I was out for a walk tonight, the song was playing... and as per usual when I listen to a song I really enjoy, it set off a hypothetical situation in my head. I don't like to talk about death, or people dying (unless it's in my fictional writing), but the "vision" (if you will) involved me singing this song at my father's funeral. I know, I know, he ain't dead yet, and I hope he never dies. I don't ever wish it to happen, even though I know it'll happen eventually.
But I imagined myself playing/singing this song, but replacing the word "brother" with "father"... if you really wanna know something, I can't think about stuff like that without tears coming to my eyes.
I dunno... that kinda sounds stupid...
But really, I think of stuff like that (hypothetical situations) all the time when I listen to a particularily emotional song. Music always brings out funny emotions in me. Hey, I'm an emotional person.
I have always worn my heart on my sleeve, and I always will.
I think I may have said something in the earlier blog today about keeping myself guarded, but man... I just can't. I don't want to. I want to tell the world how I feel. I want to let everything I have in me out. I would let it out all day long if I could.
My eye is starting to hurt. Maybe I've got glaucoma. Maybe I qualify for medicinal marijuana.
Speaking of pot, it'll be four weeks since I got high on Saturday. That's the longest time I've went without getting stoned in ten years. I kid you not.
I wouldn't mind smoking a joint now, to be honest. Just to see what it's like again.
I doubt I will.
But I know when I move back into St. John's, I will end up smoking a little weed. I think what I might do is buy a bong. It's much easier to smoke smaller amounts with a bong, and well, to be honest, I've always prefered a bong to a joint, anyways.
hmm..... it's almost 1am. I'm gonna go now. Jay Leno's on soon.
I think I'm gonna go on another walk tomorrow... Hopefully my legs won't be as sore after tomorrow's walk. They hurt like d'jesus this evening, and that's only because I've been so physically inactive in the last two months. I need to get rid of this ass that's grown on me since I quit smoking. My appetite is massive.
Do it. Go d/l it right now, then come back and listen to it as you read this blog. I get an emotional hard on every time I hear it.
Come to think of it, I get an emotional boner every time I listen to G'N'R. I really love those guys. I'm kinda sore they haven't put out any new music since I was in grade 6. Yes, I'm fully aware of "Chinese Democracy", but that doesn't count as a Guns album. It's Axl Rose and four guys who probably weren't even old enough to have pubes when Appetite for Destruction was released.
Ahhhhh Appetite. Now there's an album to -ahem- "make love" to.
I'm in a pretty decent mood this evening. I would think that'd be obvious, considering this is my second blog entry of the day. Maybe it's because I was out for a walk tonight. Maybe it's because I did some real work today, when I shoveled some snow off the front lawn.
But whatever it is, I feel great.
I feel like a million and a half bucks. Mentally and physically, I'm on top of the world. When people say exercise makes you feel great, they ain't bullshitting you.
Reading never hurts, either. I haven't read many positive books lately, but I think I should start up again. I'm thinking of going over the "Monk" book I've praised so highly in the past, before I go back to school. As good as my spirits are right now, it would never hurt for some extra "lifting".
Speaking of lifting spirits, I was given cause to wonder about something earlier this evening before I went on my walk. I'm sure everyone in Newfoundland (and even those of you who live away, if you still read this) is aware of the terrible tradgedy that happened a week ago, when that helicopter crashed off the coast and killed 18(?) people. A casual aquaintance of mine's father was on that flight. My heart goes out to her.
What I'm getting at here is this... When people are faced with times of extreme grief and pain, they turn to religion.
Why?
They pray as if some unseen force will make them feel better.
I ain't knocking religion, but I just don't see how asking something that may not even exist will help you. I know that comment very well may piss off some people, but when have I ever been worried about pissing people off?
I'm not trying to say I think religion is dumb. I mean, whatever works for ya... Go nuts. I ain't going to judge. But it just ain't my bag, baby. That's not to say that I wouldn't get married in a church, if the opportunity arose. I'm not saying that if I ever found myself a nice catholic girl, I wouldn't marry her.
But religious beliefs aren't as important to me as they once were.
I like to live my life for me. I refuse to "serve and obey" anyone.
Okay, before I end up figuratively cutting my own balls off, I'm going to shut up on the religion talk. I usually end up putting my foot in my mouth with that. As much as I'm not worried about offending anyone, there is really one person in particular I don't wish to offend. I'm not even sure if she still reads the blog, because I haven't spoken to her in over a month now... but we'll just leave 'er at that.
I need to write an email to someone... I need to apologize for a few things I've said. I want to clear the air between me and a dear friend... I just don't know how receptive they'll be.
But who would I be if I didn't take a chance?
I need need need to learn "He ain't heavy" on piano. I've got it on again, and my arms are covered in goosebumps. You really owe it to yourself to download this song. While I was out for a walk tonight, the song was playing... and as per usual when I listen to a song I really enjoy, it set off a hypothetical situation in my head. I don't like to talk about death, or people dying (unless it's in my fictional writing), but the "vision" (if you will) involved me singing this song at my father's funeral. I know, I know, he ain't dead yet, and I hope he never dies. I don't ever wish it to happen, even though I know it'll happen eventually.
But I imagined myself playing/singing this song, but replacing the word "brother" with "father"... if you really wanna know something, I can't think about stuff like that without tears coming to my eyes.
I dunno... that kinda sounds stupid...
But really, I think of stuff like that (hypothetical situations) all the time when I listen to a particularily emotional song. Music always brings out funny emotions in me. Hey, I'm an emotional person.
I have always worn my heart on my sleeve, and I always will.
I think I may have said something in the earlier blog today about keeping myself guarded, but man... I just can't. I don't want to. I want to tell the world how I feel. I want to let everything I have in me out. I would let it out all day long if I could.
My eye is starting to hurt. Maybe I've got glaucoma. Maybe I qualify for medicinal marijuana.
Speaking of pot, it'll be four weeks since I got high on Saturday. That's the longest time I've went without getting stoned in ten years. I kid you not.
I wouldn't mind smoking a joint now, to be honest. Just to see what it's like again.
I doubt I will.
But I know when I move back into St. John's, I will end up smoking a little weed. I think what I might do is buy a bong. It's much easier to smoke smaller amounts with a bong, and well, to be honest, I've always prefered a bong to a joint, anyways.
hmm..... it's almost 1am. I'm gonna go now. Jay Leno's on soon.
I think I'm gonna go on another walk tomorrow... Hopefully my legs won't be as sore after tomorrow's walk. They hurt like d'jesus this evening, and that's only because I've been so physically inactive in the last two months. I need to get rid of this ass that's grown on me since I quit smoking. My appetite is massive.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
"When I was young I knew everything"
It's funny how certain songs make me a little introspective.
You know what I mean.
Some songs from back when you were young that remind you of, well, being young.
Songs like "The Freshmen". I do believe I was about 17 or 18 when this song was released. It's funny, y'know, to think about that. It seems like it was an entire lifetime ago.
Back then, things were so much simpler. I didn't have to worry about anything. Back then, I did know everything.
What made me so fearful of everything?
Before I start to feel sorry for myself, I'm gonna talk about something different.
Sometimes all I want to do is talk about girls. To be honest, that's what I think about 75% of the time. Hey, I am a dude. But it's not like I want all girls.
I want one girl.
One that's not gonna feed me bullshit about how she wants to spend the rest of her life with me, then when things get a little emotionally heavy, run away like a scalded dog.
Is that really too much to ask?
Yeeeah, being burned (in an emotional sense) really sucks...
And you might say to yourself, why can't you just get over it? This happened well over a year ago!! Well I am over it. But sometimes when I get into a certain frame of mind, I can't help but think about the one time I feel like I've been had. The one time someone actually got one over on me, in an emotional sense.
No, I'm not angry with this particular person. In a way, I guess you could say I'm thankful. Without her, I never would've known what it was like to truly have your heart broken. I now know how to be more careful with my heart.
Something long and truly lasting doesn't come easy. It doesn't just happen. I was foolish to have given my heart over so easily when it happened. I was stupid to trust someone so blindly.
Ahhh so now that that's done 'n over with, I have to focus on positive things. My blogs have been lacking positivity as of late. Even a blind man could see that (if he could read).
However, like I said in a recent blog, I have things to look forward to when I move out to town. I don't think it makes sense to get too detailed here, because that has always backfired. And I just simply cannot take more pain in my heart. It's healed and full again, and I'm happy in a sense, but it's a very fragile thing as a result of past instances.
If I'm gonna let someone into my world now, she's gonna have to realize that it won't come easy.
Trust is a big thing with me, and I just can't blindly trust anyone any more. I'm going to be weary of everyone I date, whether they're as genuine as Jesus, or not. That's just how it goes when one's heart is smashed up real good.
I just can't wait to get back into town again. I really can't. I really really really can't wait to move back into the city, and go to the Stump and sing karaoke. I look forward to making blanket forts.
I'm excited about visiting Water Street on a hot summer day.
Y'know what I really miss? I talk about it all the time, I know, and you're possibly sick of reading it, but I miss little tiny things about being in a relationship.
I miss holding hands.
I miss linking arms, if it's a little chilly out.
I miss watching movies and stealing kisses.
I'm so ready to start dating again.
But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to just date. There's part of me that just wants to jump headfirst into something so blindly and care-free. I've always worked like that, and it's never really worked out in my favor in the long run. Maybe it's dumb faith that keeps me going... Maybe the next time, maybe this time, it'll be different.
Who knows?
I gotta go now... the sun is very warm today, and it's beating down on me like a hammer. I think I may hop into the shower. I stink.
You know what I mean.
Some songs from back when you were young that remind you of, well, being young.
Songs like "The Freshmen". I do believe I was about 17 or 18 when this song was released. It's funny, y'know, to think about that. It seems like it was an entire lifetime ago.
Back then, things were so much simpler. I didn't have to worry about anything. Back then, I did know everything.
What made me so fearful of everything?
Before I start to feel sorry for myself, I'm gonna talk about something different.
Sometimes all I want to do is talk about girls. To be honest, that's what I think about 75% of the time. Hey, I am a dude. But it's not like I want all girls.
I want one girl.
One that's not gonna feed me bullshit about how she wants to spend the rest of her life with me, then when things get a little emotionally heavy, run away like a scalded dog.
Is that really too much to ask?
Yeeeah, being burned (in an emotional sense) really sucks...
And you might say to yourself, why can't you just get over it? This happened well over a year ago!! Well I am over it. But sometimes when I get into a certain frame of mind, I can't help but think about the one time I feel like I've been had. The one time someone actually got one over on me, in an emotional sense.
No, I'm not angry with this particular person. In a way, I guess you could say I'm thankful. Without her, I never would've known what it was like to truly have your heart broken. I now know how to be more careful with my heart.
Something long and truly lasting doesn't come easy. It doesn't just happen. I was foolish to have given my heart over so easily when it happened. I was stupid to trust someone so blindly.
Ahhh so now that that's done 'n over with, I have to focus on positive things. My blogs have been lacking positivity as of late. Even a blind man could see that (if he could read).
However, like I said in a recent blog, I have things to look forward to when I move out to town. I don't think it makes sense to get too detailed here, because that has always backfired. And I just simply cannot take more pain in my heart. It's healed and full again, and I'm happy in a sense, but it's a very fragile thing as a result of past instances.
If I'm gonna let someone into my world now, she's gonna have to realize that it won't come easy.
Trust is a big thing with me, and I just can't blindly trust anyone any more. I'm going to be weary of everyone I date, whether they're as genuine as Jesus, or not. That's just how it goes when one's heart is smashed up real good.
I just can't wait to get back into town again. I really can't. I really really really can't wait to move back into the city, and go to the Stump and sing karaoke. I look forward to making blanket forts.
I'm excited about visiting Water Street on a hot summer day.
Y'know what I really miss? I talk about it all the time, I know, and you're possibly sick of reading it, but I miss little tiny things about being in a relationship.
I miss holding hands.
I miss linking arms, if it's a little chilly out.
I miss watching movies and stealing kisses.
I'm so ready to start dating again.
But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to just date. There's part of me that just wants to jump headfirst into something so blindly and care-free. I've always worked like that, and it's never really worked out in my favor in the long run. Maybe it's dumb faith that keeps me going... Maybe the next time, maybe this time, it'll be different.
Who knows?
I gotta go now... the sun is very warm today, and it's beating down on me like a hammer. I think I may hop into the shower. I stink.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
"No stopsigns, speed limits. Nobody's gonna slow me down"
Following the norm here, I'm gonna give a shout-out to another favorite band of mine.
AC/DC.
Shit man, they pump me up. They really do. Highway to Hell is such a great song to get the blood flowing. It's high-energy, and it just doesn't let up the whole way through. It's what a true rock 'n roll song should be. There's a band called "Iced Earth" that I've never heard of before, and they've done a cover of the song I speak of. It's amazing. Really and truly is. They actually made the song better, in my opinion.
But what does my opinion matter?
A lot to some people. It seems my kind words are finally starting to pay off. I have much to look forward to when I move back to the city, and I ain't talking about getting an education. That's a given. What I'm talkin' about is something more exciting.
I'm talkin' blanket forts, scary movies, and popcorn.
Y'know what's kinda freaking me out lately? Cats.
I mentioned something on my Facebook status recently about wanting a cat, and ever since then, I've seen an abundance of different cats coming up on my patio. Maybe it's a strange coincidence, but the paranoia in me suggests that cats can read minds.
Bear with me here; indulge my fantasy for a moment. I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, these are stray cats that want/need to be helped. And maybe they can sense that I love cats. Maybe they know that I'd help them out if I could.
But I can't take 'em into the house, because mom hates cats. If it was up to me and dad, I'd have a cat on the computer desk in front of me right now.
I love cats. Ever since I lived on Kildare Place, and had to share the house with Susan's cat, Bailey, I've taken an even bigger liking to them. Cats, that is.
So I'm really diggin' seeing all these cats around outside, but it kills me, because I really can't do much to save them from the cold. There's been at least five or six different ones since Sunday afternoon, and I want each one of them as a pet.
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't like dogs, or anything, but man, I really want a pet cat. It could be the closest thing to a baby I'll have in the next five years. And we all know how much I want children. Eventually, I will have 'em.
I guess until then, I'm gonna have to settle with cats.
I'm gonna look into adopting one from the SPCA when I move back into town. I'd want one that can sit in my lap all day long, and let me pet her. One that I can pick up and carry around on my shoulders.
I shall call her Oregano.
Or if it's a black cat, I'll call him Mr. T.
Yeah, I'm a little looney.
Or maybe I could find a nice girl who already has a pet cat. That'd be alright, too.
Okay, enough about cats...
I'm gonna go do some more pushups soon. My shoulders are really starting to get sore, though. I really need a massage. I wonder how much it costs to get a professional one done?
Apparently I change my FB status a little too often... I see nothing wrong with that. I speak my mind. If I've got something that needs to be said, I'll say it. Even if it doesn't need to be said, I'll say it, too. I like to speak. I like to say things.
Even if they don't mean anything, I use words.
I think it's a good thing I'm gonna be majoring in linguistics. The study of language appeals to me. It's almost a necessity for me to study it if I want to be a writer. I'd like to think I have a good grasp on how to speak, and use my words, etc., but a formal education could never ever hurt me.
Then I can start my career as a writer, move to a shack by the sea with my girl who may or may not exist yet, and we can share art with each other.
I'd love to be able to collaborate with someone on a book. Maybe a children's book for adults is in the works. hmmm..... Jesus Claus.... I wonder.....
I can't wait to move out to St. John's again... I need to get out and start doing things. I can read all I want about what's going on in the world, but I need to physically experience things, as well. My writing is getting a little stale.
I want something really cool and great to happen soon, so I can have something exciting to write about.
AC/DC.
Shit man, they pump me up. They really do. Highway to Hell is such a great song to get the blood flowing. It's high-energy, and it just doesn't let up the whole way through. It's what a true rock 'n roll song should be. There's a band called "Iced Earth" that I've never heard of before, and they've done a cover of the song I speak of. It's amazing. Really and truly is. They actually made the song better, in my opinion.
But what does my opinion matter?
A lot to some people. It seems my kind words are finally starting to pay off. I have much to look forward to when I move back to the city, and I ain't talking about getting an education. That's a given. What I'm talkin' about is something more exciting.
I'm talkin' blanket forts, scary movies, and popcorn.
Y'know what's kinda freaking me out lately? Cats.
I mentioned something on my Facebook status recently about wanting a cat, and ever since then, I've seen an abundance of different cats coming up on my patio. Maybe it's a strange coincidence, but the paranoia in me suggests that cats can read minds.
Bear with me here; indulge my fantasy for a moment. I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, these are stray cats that want/need to be helped. And maybe they can sense that I love cats. Maybe they know that I'd help them out if I could.
But I can't take 'em into the house, because mom hates cats. If it was up to me and dad, I'd have a cat on the computer desk in front of me right now.
I love cats. Ever since I lived on Kildare Place, and had to share the house with Susan's cat, Bailey, I've taken an even bigger liking to them. Cats, that is.
So I'm really diggin' seeing all these cats around outside, but it kills me, because I really can't do much to save them from the cold. There's been at least five or six different ones since Sunday afternoon, and I want each one of them as a pet.
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't like dogs, or anything, but man, I really want a pet cat. It could be the closest thing to a baby I'll have in the next five years. And we all know how much I want children. Eventually, I will have 'em.
I guess until then, I'm gonna have to settle with cats.
I'm gonna look into adopting one from the SPCA when I move back into town. I'd want one that can sit in my lap all day long, and let me pet her. One that I can pick up and carry around on my shoulders.
I shall call her Oregano.
Or if it's a black cat, I'll call him Mr. T.
Yeah, I'm a little looney.
Or maybe I could find a nice girl who already has a pet cat. That'd be alright, too.
Okay, enough about cats...
I'm gonna go do some more pushups soon. My shoulders are really starting to get sore, though. I really need a massage. I wonder how much it costs to get a professional one done?
Apparently I change my FB status a little too often... I see nothing wrong with that. I speak my mind. If I've got something that needs to be said, I'll say it. Even if it doesn't need to be said, I'll say it, too. I like to speak. I like to say things.
Even if they don't mean anything, I use words.
I think it's a good thing I'm gonna be majoring in linguistics. The study of language appeals to me. It's almost a necessity for me to study it if I want to be a writer. I'd like to think I have a good grasp on how to speak, and use my words, etc., but a formal education could never ever hurt me.
Then I can start my career as a writer, move to a shack by the sea with my girl who may or may not exist yet, and we can share art with each other.
I'd love to be able to collaborate with someone on a book. Maybe a children's book for adults is in the works. hmmm..... Jesus Claus.... I wonder.....
I can't wait to move out to St. John's again... I need to get out and start doing things. I can read all I want about what's going on in the world, but I need to physically experience things, as well. My writing is getting a little stale.
I want something really cool and great to happen soon, so I can have something exciting to write about.
"We can plant a house, we can build a tree"
I'm back on the Nirvana kick again... I cannot stop listening to the Nevermind album. It is, without a doubt, one of my favorite albums of all time.
There are very very few albums I can put on and listen to from beginning to end, without wanting to skip any tracks, and if you'll indulge me a few moments of your time, I'm gonna make an attempt to list them off. I'll pass on why I dig 'em. I think what I'll do is just suggest a few songs to check out.
First off, I think the most glaringly obvious album would have to be Green Day's Dookie. A few songs of note are Basket Case, She, Longview, and Welcome to Paradise.
The second album I really dig is the deftones' White Pony. Some tunes you may want to check out are Passenger, Elite, Digital Bath, and... Knife Party.
The next one up I'd like to recommend to you is The Vines' Winning Days. I recommend you d/l Ride, Winning Days, Fuck the World, and Animal Machine.
Then, of course, there's Nirvana's Nevermind. You really should get the whole thing, but some songs of note are Smells like Teen Spirit (come on, did you think i'd leave that one out?), Breed, Lithium, and Territorial Pissings.
And even though it's not on the album, I also recommend you check out Rape Me, as well.
I also can't forget KoRn's debut, self-titled album. You should check out Clown, Shoots and Ladders, Faget, Blind, and Daddy.
The last album I'm gonna recommend is the Rod Steward Unplugged album... That's the one he did with MTV back in the mid-90's.
Just d/l the whole thing, because Rod Stewart is fucking awesome.
I had some pretty weird dreams the other night. One of 'em involved Christina Aguilera... and no, it wasn't a sex dream. Come to think of it, I haven't had a sex dream in forever. Maybe it's because I haven't had sex in forever. But anyway, that's pretty irrelevant.
As most dreams go, I can't remember how it started, but it did start. Me and Ms. Aguilera were just sitting on a front porch somewhere in... well, I don't know where... but we were on one of those old swings you see on the the front of porches in America. So maybe we were in the States. But we were just chillin' out, drinking lemonade (i'm not making this up, i seriously dreamed this), and talking about nothing in particular.
It was strange, because nothing really interesing happened besides the fact that she was giving me the impression that she wanted to date me.
That's seriously all that happened.
The second dream wasn't as strange as that, but if left me with a very sad feeling. It involved someone that I used to talk to on quite a regular basis, up until around early February. Maybe it's best I don't go into detail, because it was kinda a personal dream. But it really made me sad, if you really want to know. I think that's all I really want to get into with it, because the dream was just really said.
Okay, let's bring it up a notch. Let's talk about something happy.
I was talking to Julie again this evening. She was feelin' pretty sad, and I'd like to say I did my part to cheer her up. For those unaware, Julie is my old roomie. We lived together while I was out in St. John's, during my most recent excursion into the great city in the east.
To say I admire her and like her and treasure her as a friend would be a great understatement... I also do not understand why the people she calls friends are such shitheads. I can't say they're all bad, but from what I've seen, there's one word that sticks out in my mind when I met them.
Fake.
And it makes no sense to me, because Julie's one of the most genuine people in the world. Well, that's how I see her. She tells it as she sees it, and doesn't really hold much back. She's one of the only people who truly speaks her mind, and doesn't sugarcoat a damn thing.
And I miss her advice when it comes to girls. She helped me more in the three (or four?) months we lived together than anyone in the last ten years ever did. She's probably been more of a friend than anyone I've met in the last ten years, if you really want to know the truth.
I've been stabbed in the back, lied to, bullshitted, by pretty much everyone I know outside of my family... But I don't think Julie has ever done that to me.
Like she said, the two of us have gone through some pretty big piles of bullshit, and we both know what it is to be loyal to your friends.
That's all I want, man, is for some friends to be loyal to me. I've given it out in spades; my loyalty, that is. But I've never ever gotten it back from anyone, except for her. But maybe it's because we lived together, and got to spend a lot of time in each other's company.
All in all, before I go on to something else, Julie is what I consider a true, good friend. I look forward to hangin' out with her again when I move back into town.
Speaking of switching topics, here we go... I think I need to learn to keep my whore mouth shut.
Oh wow... I didn't realize it was so late... I don't wanna go to bed yet, though. I'm not that tired... Maybe it's because I ate some chocolate earlier, and it's got me amped.
I'm on a horrible chocolate binge lately. I eat chocolate like it's going out of style. I think I've replaced my cigarette addiction with chocolate.
I love love LOVE it, though.
It's so fucking good.
I should probably watch myself, though... I was looking through mom's "baking supplies" cupboard, and found what I thought was blocks of semi-sweet chocolate.
Looked JUST like it.
So I put a chunk of it in my mouth, and started to chew.
It must've been that bittersweet, or non-sweetened, baking chocolate, because it was, without a doubt, the worst tasting thing I have ever put in my mouth. (get your friggin' mind out of the gutter. i don't suck dick. then again, maybe dick is alright. i dunno. but i don't plan on finding out)
Back to the chocolate...
I had to eat at least two or three handfulls of chocolate chips to get the taste out of my mouth. Not that I minded doing that, but man...
If I could describe a taste as a feeling, then the feeling would be getting kicked in the nuts. It's like someone raped my tastebuds with chocolate. Not a pleasant sensation to eat unsweetened chocolate at all.
And you'd think I had learned my lesson... Nope...
I still eat chocolate like it's going out of style.
But hey, at least I'm not smoking anything.
And besides, I'm doing pushups every day, so that's a good thing. I'm making an effort to counteract the effects of the chocolate.
Then again, I could probably eat a little healthier, retarded amounts of chocolate or not.
BUT MAN, CHOCOLATE IS SO GOOD. I CAN'T HELP IT.
Seriously.
I could eat it until I double over from stomach pains.
There are very very few albums I can put on and listen to from beginning to end, without wanting to skip any tracks, and if you'll indulge me a few moments of your time, I'm gonna make an attempt to list them off. I'll pass on why I dig 'em. I think what I'll do is just suggest a few songs to check out.
First off, I think the most glaringly obvious album would have to be Green Day's Dookie. A few songs of note are Basket Case, She, Longview, and Welcome to Paradise.
The second album I really dig is the deftones' White Pony. Some tunes you may want to check out are Passenger, Elite, Digital Bath, and... Knife Party.
The next one up I'd like to recommend to you is The Vines' Winning Days. I recommend you d/l Ride, Winning Days, Fuck the World, and Animal Machine.
Then, of course, there's Nirvana's Nevermind. You really should get the whole thing, but some songs of note are Smells like Teen Spirit (come on, did you think i'd leave that one out?), Breed, Lithium, and Territorial Pissings.
And even though it's not on the album, I also recommend you check out Rape Me, as well.
I also can't forget KoRn's debut, self-titled album. You should check out Clown, Shoots and Ladders, Faget, Blind, and Daddy.
The last album I'm gonna recommend is the Rod Steward Unplugged album... That's the one he did with MTV back in the mid-90's.
Just d/l the whole thing, because Rod Stewart is fucking awesome.
I had some pretty weird dreams the other night. One of 'em involved Christina Aguilera... and no, it wasn't a sex dream. Come to think of it, I haven't had a sex dream in forever. Maybe it's because I haven't had sex in forever. But anyway, that's pretty irrelevant.
As most dreams go, I can't remember how it started, but it did start. Me and Ms. Aguilera were just sitting on a front porch somewhere in... well, I don't know where... but we were on one of those old swings you see on the the front of porches in America. So maybe we were in the States. But we were just chillin' out, drinking lemonade (i'm not making this up, i seriously dreamed this), and talking about nothing in particular.
It was strange, because nothing really interesing happened besides the fact that she was giving me the impression that she wanted to date me.
That's seriously all that happened.
The second dream wasn't as strange as that, but if left me with a very sad feeling. It involved someone that I used to talk to on quite a regular basis, up until around early February. Maybe it's best I don't go into detail, because it was kinda a personal dream. But it really made me sad, if you really want to know. I think that's all I really want to get into with it, because the dream was just really said.
Okay, let's bring it up a notch. Let's talk about something happy.
I was talking to Julie again this evening. She was feelin' pretty sad, and I'd like to say I did my part to cheer her up. For those unaware, Julie is my old roomie. We lived together while I was out in St. John's, during my most recent excursion into the great city in the east.
To say I admire her and like her and treasure her as a friend would be a great understatement... I also do not understand why the people she calls friends are such shitheads. I can't say they're all bad, but from what I've seen, there's one word that sticks out in my mind when I met them.
Fake.
And it makes no sense to me, because Julie's one of the most genuine people in the world. Well, that's how I see her. She tells it as she sees it, and doesn't really hold much back. She's one of the only people who truly speaks her mind, and doesn't sugarcoat a damn thing.
And I miss her advice when it comes to girls. She helped me more in the three (or four?) months we lived together than anyone in the last ten years ever did. She's probably been more of a friend than anyone I've met in the last ten years, if you really want to know the truth.
I've been stabbed in the back, lied to, bullshitted, by pretty much everyone I know outside of my family... But I don't think Julie has ever done that to me.
Like she said, the two of us have gone through some pretty big piles of bullshit, and we both know what it is to be loyal to your friends.
That's all I want, man, is for some friends to be loyal to me. I've given it out in spades; my loyalty, that is. But I've never ever gotten it back from anyone, except for her. But maybe it's because we lived together, and got to spend a lot of time in each other's company.
All in all, before I go on to something else, Julie is what I consider a true, good friend. I look forward to hangin' out with her again when I move back into town.
Speaking of switching topics, here we go... I think I need to learn to keep my whore mouth shut.
Oh wow... I didn't realize it was so late... I don't wanna go to bed yet, though. I'm not that tired... Maybe it's because I ate some chocolate earlier, and it's got me amped.
I'm on a horrible chocolate binge lately. I eat chocolate like it's going out of style. I think I've replaced my cigarette addiction with chocolate.
I love love LOVE it, though.
It's so fucking good.
I should probably watch myself, though... I was looking through mom's "baking supplies" cupboard, and found what I thought was blocks of semi-sweet chocolate.
Looked JUST like it.
So I put a chunk of it in my mouth, and started to chew.
It must've been that bittersweet, or non-sweetened, baking chocolate, because it was, without a doubt, the worst tasting thing I have ever put in my mouth. (get your friggin' mind out of the gutter. i don't suck dick. then again, maybe dick is alright. i dunno. but i don't plan on finding out)
Back to the chocolate...
I had to eat at least two or three handfulls of chocolate chips to get the taste out of my mouth. Not that I minded doing that, but man...
If I could describe a taste as a feeling, then the feeling would be getting kicked in the nuts. It's like someone raped my tastebuds with chocolate. Not a pleasant sensation to eat unsweetened chocolate at all.
And you'd think I had learned my lesson... Nope...
I still eat chocolate like it's going out of style.
But hey, at least I'm not smoking anything.
And besides, I'm doing pushups every day, so that's a good thing. I'm making an effort to counteract the effects of the chocolate.
Then again, I could probably eat a little healthier, retarded amounts of chocolate or not.
BUT MAN, CHOCOLATE IS SO GOOD. I CAN'T HELP IT.
Seriously.
I could eat it until I double over from stomach pains.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
"The road is long, with many a winding turn"
I'm convinced that Rufus Wainwright is probably the only dude that can give me goosebumps when he sings.
Fuck man, just go download "He ain't heavy, he's my brother", and you'll see what I mean. If that doesn't affect you, you're either deaf or a high-functioning retard.
So I'm in a bit of a better mood than I was earlier today. I guess a little nap, some light exercise, and a bit of meditation was all it took.
That, and some random and unexpected kind words from someone I don't know very well. Very much appreciated, and you know who you are, if you happen to be reading this.
I do need to say something, though. (big surprise there, i bet you're thinking... matthew baker has something to say? woot. knock me over with a spoon)
I sometimes wonder when I'm gonna get mine. When I'm gonna find a girl who's gonna dig me. Someone who's not gonna think that "clothes make the man". Mind you, I'm not trying to use that as an excuse to dress like a slob. But I don't see the point in having to spend hundreds of dollars on shoes, pants, and shirts.
I am who I am because of what I have inside me. Sure, if I look like I don't give a shit, then that may be a mark against me. But only the most superficial girl is gonna look at the outside only. I do have a desire to look my best, but man, it shouldn't be a detriment to my love life if I don't wear dress shirts and nice slacks.
Sometimes I wish I was ugly as fuck. Sometimes I wish I had scars over my face and body. I've had a lot of people tell me I look better clean shaven, and that I should get a haircut.
Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I don't feel comfortable when people point out that the only reason they talk to me sometimes is because of how attractive they think I am?
Yes, I realize that was an egotistical thing to say, but truth be told, that situation has happened more often than not. I know I'm a good lookin' dude. But I don't want people talking to me because of my looks. I want people to like me for who I am, not what I look like. My beard is part of who I am. I enjoy it. I like how I look with a beard and shaggy hair. If someone can't accept that, then I suggest they take their genitals and find a way to fuck themselves.
I'm a little bitter now... sometimes when I roll myself onto a subject that I feel strongly about, well, it comes out into my writing. And while I'm not sure what made me think about this stuff, I'm thinking about it. Ideas and thoughts have a habit of popping into my head without control.
If you've ever had a conversation with me in person, you'd already know that. I've been told I have quite the random thought process.
Here's something else that's random.
I'm probably one of the loneliest people in the world right now. Here in Gander, I have no friends. No one my own age to talk to, to hang out with, no one to maybe smoke a joint with from time to time. No one to make love to.
The only people I've had human contact with in the last two months have been my parents. Sure, I've talked to tons of people online, but it just doesn't feel the same.
I haven't heard a girl's voice say my name in forever.
I haven't buried my head in a girl's neck and took her scent in with the deepest breath in well over a year.
I haven't even had a hug from someone who isn't a relative in... jesus... I can't remember the last time. And it's honestly doing a number on my insides. Not my physical insides, but my soul. My heart. Me. I don't even know what it's like to just peck someone on the lips because I can.
Jesus... my life is starting to suck, man. I know I'm going to school soon, and I would like to think I'm going to meet someone at school, or at least meet someone while I'm in St. John's. She doesn't have to be a student. I'm not that obtuse.
Sure, there's light at the end of the tunnel... but with the way I feel right now, the goddamn tunnel seems like it is never going to end. No, I ain't depressed, I'm not going to go and do anything stupid. I'm not asking for any kinda special attention. I'm just stating a fact.
I am lonely as fuck.
Fuck man, just go download "He ain't heavy, he's my brother", and you'll see what I mean. If that doesn't affect you, you're either deaf or a high-functioning retard.
So I'm in a bit of a better mood than I was earlier today. I guess a little nap, some light exercise, and a bit of meditation was all it took.
That, and some random and unexpected kind words from someone I don't know very well. Very much appreciated, and you know who you are, if you happen to be reading this.
I do need to say something, though. (big surprise there, i bet you're thinking... matthew baker has something to say? woot. knock me over with a spoon)
I sometimes wonder when I'm gonna get mine. When I'm gonna find a girl who's gonna dig me. Someone who's not gonna think that "clothes make the man". Mind you, I'm not trying to use that as an excuse to dress like a slob. But I don't see the point in having to spend hundreds of dollars on shoes, pants, and shirts.
I am who I am because of what I have inside me. Sure, if I look like I don't give a shit, then that may be a mark against me. But only the most superficial girl is gonna look at the outside only. I do have a desire to look my best, but man, it shouldn't be a detriment to my love life if I don't wear dress shirts and nice slacks.
Sometimes I wish I was ugly as fuck. Sometimes I wish I had scars over my face and body. I've had a lot of people tell me I look better clean shaven, and that I should get a haircut.
Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I don't feel comfortable when people point out that the only reason they talk to me sometimes is because of how attractive they think I am?
Yes, I realize that was an egotistical thing to say, but truth be told, that situation has happened more often than not. I know I'm a good lookin' dude. But I don't want people talking to me because of my looks. I want people to like me for who I am, not what I look like. My beard is part of who I am. I enjoy it. I like how I look with a beard and shaggy hair. If someone can't accept that, then I suggest they take their genitals and find a way to fuck themselves.
I'm a little bitter now... sometimes when I roll myself onto a subject that I feel strongly about, well, it comes out into my writing. And while I'm not sure what made me think about this stuff, I'm thinking about it. Ideas and thoughts have a habit of popping into my head without control.
If you've ever had a conversation with me in person, you'd already know that. I've been told I have quite the random thought process.
Here's something else that's random.
I'm probably one of the loneliest people in the world right now. Here in Gander, I have no friends. No one my own age to talk to, to hang out with, no one to maybe smoke a joint with from time to time. No one to make love to.
The only people I've had human contact with in the last two months have been my parents. Sure, I've talked to tons of people online, but it just doesn't feel the same.
I haven't heard a girl's voice say my name in forever.
I haven't buried my head in a girl's neck and took her scent in with the deepest breath in well over a year.
I haven't even had a hug from someone who isn't a relative in... jesus... I can't remember the last time. And it's honestly doing a number on my insides. Not my physical insides, but my soul. My heart. Me. I don't even know what it's like to just peck someone on the lips because I can.
Jesus... my life is starting to suck, man. I know I'm going to school soon, and I would like to think I'm going to meet someone at school, or at least meet someone while I'm in St. John's. She doesn't have to be a student. I'm not that obtuse.
Sure, there's light at the end of the tunnel... but with the way I feel right now, the goddamn tunnel seems like it is never going to end. No, I ain't depressed, I'm not going to go and do anything stupid. I'm not asking for any kinda special attention. I'm just stating a fact.
I am lonely as fuck.
"There were nights when the wind was so cold"
Another lazy Satuday afternoon, another lazy blog.
I can't really say I'm in the mood to write anything long-winded today. But I am in the mood to write.
I've got on Meatloaf's "It's all coming back to me"... This is another song that kinda brings goosebumps to my skin. Again, I can't quite put it into words, but the song kinda speaks to me. It (as lots of music does) brings me to a place I wish I was.
I'm still... still...
STILL f*ing waiting to hear back from MUN. To say I'm getting a little impatient would be an understatement. But then again, this is a completely new experience for me. Maybe they normally are this slow with correspondence. I shouldn't really be getting pissy. In the long run, it'll probably do me some good to just chill the fuck out and wait.
Waiting is something I've never ever done well. Being impatient has always been one of my worst qualities. Even when it comes to playing piano, I want to get it done and over with. I've always rushed things. My teachers always always told me to slow down.
Living fast, if you will, has always been with me. I wonder why I'm in such a rush to get things done, because in the long run it ain't gonna do me any good. I can bitch and moan about it all I want, but again, it won't get me anywhere. It's kinda funny, because I try to preach to other people to "stop and smell the roses", yet I can't take my own advice.
ahhh I think I'm gonna take leave of this right now. I'm just putting words on paper that don't really mean anything. I've actually got a lot on my mind, and it's hindering my ability to think/write clearly. Maybe I'll be back later with something that'll make more sense than this crap.
I can't really say I'm in the mood to write anything long-winded today. But I am in the mood to write.
I've got on Meatloaf's "It's all coming back to me"... This is another song that kinda brings goosebumps to my skin. Again, I can't quite put it into words, but the song kinda speaks to me. It (as lots of music does) brings me to a place I wish I was.
I'm still... still...
STILL f*ing waiting to hear back from MUN. To say I'm getting a little impatient would be an understatement. But then again, this is a completely new experience for me. Maybe they normally are this slow with correspondence. I shouldn't really be getting pissy. In the long run, it'll probably do me some good to just chill the fuck out and wait.
Waiting is something I've never ever done well. Being impatient has always been one of my worst qualities. Even when it comes to playing piano, I want to get it done and over with. I've always rushed things. My teachers always always told me to slow down.
Living fast, if you will, has always been with me. I wonder why I'm in such a rush to get things done, because in the long run it ain't gonna do me any good. I can bitch and moan about it all I want, but again, it won't get me anywhere. It's kinda funny, because I try to preach to other people to "stop and smell the roses", yet I can't take my own advice.
ahhh I think I'm gonna take leave of this right now. I'm just putting words on paper that don't really mean anything. I've actually got a lot on my mind, and it's hindering my ability to think/write clearly. Maybe I'll be back later with something that'll make more sense than this crap.
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