I realized today my erratic bouts of depression aren't for attention, as I've sometimes wondered. No, in the heat of the moment, I hate the stares and whispers.
Which can only mean they're real.
So, um, yay?
Stream of consciousness
At 8:30, the alarm goes off. I fight with the snooze button for a half hour before my brain decides to finally fire up. I rub my burning eyes and try to string enough words together to form a single, cohesive thought.
Stayed up till 3 watching a Bill Hicks dvd, because I couldn't tear myself away.
Slept on the couch because sleeping on my bed with all it's emptiness is more than I can take lately.
And now, time to get up.
I step into the kitchen and make my single cup of coffee, which accompanies me into the bathroom. I still can't figure out my shower, so I bathe under sporadic bursts of luke warm and biting cold. You see, I can't feel right until I've had a blistering hot shower, so I've started every day since September off on the wrong foot.
I listen to my music as I brush my teeth and suit up. While singing along to "Survive" by Rise Against I examine myself in the mirror. I'm wearing a long sleeve, white thermal shirt, black jeans, white and black tennis shoes, black suit jacket and, of course, the fedora. I deem this acceptable and head out.
It's dad's birthday tomorrow so I told him I'd take him to see the new Harry Potter flick today. When I get to his place he hands me the newest pictures of my little brothers. It makes my heart ache. I place them carefully in the breast pocket of my jacket and we head to the theater.
I have an amazing time. We talk easily, not about anything serious, but it doesn't matter. I'm simply clowning around with my dad. It's like those old days I miss more than anything else. He feels like my dad, again.
The movie is also phenomenal.
After it's over, he goes to the bathroom and I venture outside to smoke. I see this girl sitting by herself who's checking her phone while people watching. Our eyes meet and after that, I could swear I see her staring in my direction a couple times. When dad finishes up we start heading to his car.
She's about ten steps ahead of us when I reach into my jacket and pull out one of my business cards. Right before we pass I hand it to her and say, "You look like you need this. Check it out sometime."
When we're a decent enough distance away my dad asks, "So you only give them to goth girls?"
"Market research says they're my demo." We both chuckle a bit.
When I sit down in the car, as I buckle my seat belt I ask, "Do want to know the real reason I gave her my card?"
"Sure."
"She was the only one I saw who was alone. I know what that's like and I don't think anyone should ever have to feel that way." On the way back to the house we talk about religion and it is glorious.
As soon as we arrive, we meet up with my aunt and cousins and go out to eat together. I love my family, but I don't know how to act around them; I feel uncomfortable and I don't know why. Dad tells a story about how my youngest brother (Casey, 4) says I'm not his brother because I never come to see him. My chest goes numb.
Flash forward an hour or so and I hug my dad goodbye. The two and a half day funk I'd been dragging out evaporates in the beauty of the moment.
Back at the apartment I pull up my site and discover I have a new comment. It's from my dad, which reads:
"Ben, I'm very happy you finally found a way to express your voice. I'm proud of you."
Then I go to facebook and am greeted by a friend request from the girl at the theater. "This should be interesting", I think to myself as I click confirm.
Stayed up till 3 watching a Bill Hicks dvd, because I couldn't tear myself away.
Slept on the couch because sleeping on my bed with all it's emptiness is more than I can take lately.
And now, time to get up.
I step into the kitchen and make my single cup of coffee, which accompanies me into the bathroom. I still can't figure out my shower, so I bathe under sporadic bursts of luke warm and biting cold. You see, I can't feel right until I've had a blistering hot shower, so I've started every day since September off on the wrong foot.
I listen to my music as I brush my teeth and suit up. While singing along to "Survive" by Rise Against I examine myself in the mirror. I'm wearing a long sleeve, white thermal shirt, black jeans, white and black tennis shoes, black suit jacket and, of course, the fedora. I deem this acceptable and head out.
It's dad's birthday tomorrow so I told him I'd take him to see the new Harry Potter flick today. When I get to his place he hands me the newest pictures of my little brothers. It makes my heart ache. I place them carefully in the breast pocket of my jacket and we head to the theater.
I have an amazing time. We talk easily, not about anything serious, but it doesn't matter. I'm simply clowning around with my dad. It's like those old days I miss more than anything else. He feels like my dad, again.
The movie is also phenomenal.
After it's over, he goes to the bathroom and I venture outside to smoke. I see this girl sitting by herself who's checking her phone while people watching. Our eyes meet and after that, I could swear I see her staring in my direction a couple times. When dad finishes up we start heading to his car.
She's about ten steps ahead of us when I reach into my jacket and pull out one of my business cards. Right before we pass I hand it to her and say, "You look like you need this. Check it out sometime."
When we're a decent enough distance away my dad asks, "So you only give them to goth girls?"
"Market research says they're my demo." We both chuckle a bit.
When I sit down in the car, as I buckle my seat belt I ask, "Do want to know the real reason I gave her my card?"
"Sure."
"She was the only one I saw who was alone. I know what that's like and I don't think anyone should ever have to feel that way." On the way back to the house we talk about religion and it is glorious.
As soon as we arrive, we meet up with my aunt and cousins and go out to eat together. I love my family, but I don't know how to act around them; I feel uncomfortable and I don't know why. Dad tells a story about how my youngest brother (Casey, 4) says I'm not his brother because I never come to see him. My chest goes numb.
Flash forward an hour or so and I hug my dad goodbye. The two and a half day funk I'd been dragging out evaporates in the beauty of the moment.
Back at the apartment I pull up my site and discover I have a new comment. It's from my dad, which reads:
"Ben, I'm very happy you finally found a way to express your voice. I'm proud of you."
Then I go to facebook and am greeted by a friend request from the girl at the theater. "This should be interesting", I think to myself as I click confirm.
It took 200 hours of work, but it's done.
The website is now live.
www.bledoutontoapage.com
Check it.
www.bledoutontoapage.com
Check it.
Life isn't fair...
It's a phrase I've heard and spoke my entire life. It's usually been done during those really dire times where I wanted to rip my heart from my chest and squeeze out its final beat.
See, as long as I can remember, I've only focused on the really heinous shit that happened to me. I became comfortable playing the victim and "life isn't fair" became my mantra.
But I don't want to be that way anymore. It doesn't get you anywhere. Of course life is going to suck if all you look at is the sucky parts. It's all about your outlook. If you can learn to see past all the negativity, you'll see how much the world has to offer once you stop holding yourself back.
Life is fair, you just have to grow up and learn to take the bad with the good.
See, as long as I can remember, I've only focused on the really heinous shit that happened to me. I became comfortable playing the victim and "life isn't fair" became my mantra.
But I don't want to be that way anymore. It doesn't get you anywhere. Of course life is going to suck if all you look at is the sucky parts. It's all about your outlook. If you can learn to see past all the negativity, you'll see how much the world has to offer once you stop holding yourself back.
Life is fair, you just have to grow up and learn to take the bad with the good.
The Lost Songs 1: Best Of Luck
When I moved into my new apartment I found all my journals which had my earliest writings. Some of these have held up pretty well, others not so much. I wrote this one when I was 20. Enjoy!
Best Of Luck
You said,
"Ben let's take a walk,
There's a lot goin' on,
I think we need to have a talk."
So we come,
To a bench in the park,
That overlooks the lake,
Ben here before but now,
Your lips quiver and your hands start to shake.
As you tell me it's over...
But you still wanna be friends.
Chorus:
Well best of luck to you,
In everything you do.
And for what it's worth,
I hope you find what you're looking for.
So you'll go your way,
and I will go mine.
I'll lie to myself everyday,
By sayin' that I'm fine.
End Chorus:
Is it worth it,
tryin to be your friend?
Or should I just count my losses,
And allow these wounds to mend?
I won't be blown off,
or sit through anymore of your lies.
I won't stick around,
as you start dating other guys.
Chorus: 1x
Pain gets worse,
as weeks and months go by.
The more I think about it,
I just wish that you would die.
Cos you can't hurt me,
if you don't exist.
Fuck it, it doesn't matter,
I'm over it.
Chorus: 1x
End Song.
Best Of Luck
You said,
"Ben let's take a walk,
There's a lot goin' on,
I think we need to have a talk."
So we come,
To a bench in the park,
That overlooks the lake,
Ben here before but now,
Your lips quiver and your hands start to shake.
As you tell me it's over...
But you still wanna be friends.
Chorus:
Well best of luck to you,
In everything you do.
And for what it's worth,
I hope you find what you're looking for.
So you'll go your way,
and I will go mine.
I'll lie to myself everyday,
By sayin' that I'm fine.
End Chorus:
Is it worth it,
tryin to be your friend?
Or should I just count my losses,
And allow these wounds to mend?
I won't be blown off,
or sit through anymore of your lies.
I won't stick around,
as you start dating other guys.
Chorus: 1x
Pain gets worse,
as weeks and months go by.
The more I think about it,
I just wish that you would die.
Cos you can't hurt me,
if you don't exist.
Fuck it, it doesn't matter,
I'm over it.
Chorus: 1x
End Song.
The Last Song
The Last Song
As I look back,
at the city I’ve left-behind.
A year ago,
Our fingers were intertwined.
You used to look at me,
With love in your eyes.
Now I watch the life I’d led,
As it withers and dies.
Hopefully I’m movin onto,
bigger and better things.
And when I come back,
you won’t even recognize me.
Chorus 1:
But I believe it’s gotta get worse,
before it gets better.
There’s gotta be a rainstorm,
before the sunny weather.
I’ve grown up,
seen the error of my ways.
I’ve moved on,
while mourning the loss of the good ol’ days.
But there’s no point,
Stressing over things,
that you can’t change.
End Chorus 1:
I gained a scar,
for every lesson I have learned.
A trail of black smoke,
emits from all the bridges I have burned.
I'm on a bus headin,
For the east coast.
When I arrive I’ll raise my glass,
To those I’ll miss the most.
But any chance of a decent future,
Is fadin fast.
Unless of course I can,
Finally bid farewell to my past.
Chorus 1x:
I walk alone now,
got nowhere to call my home now.
If given the chance would I,
have thrown this all away?
Cuz I’m lost,
and I’m confused.
I’ve been emotionally abused,
and I will fight this to the death,
because I’ve got nothing left to lose.
So this is gonna be,
the last song,
I’ll ever write about you.
Just keep me in your prayers,
cuz mine don’t seem to be getting through,
getting through.
End.
As I look back,
at the city I’ve left-behind.
A year ago,
Our fingers were intertwined.
You used to look at me,
With love in your eyes.
Now I watch the life I’d led,
As it withers and dies.
Hopefully I’m movin onto,
bigger and better things.
And when I come back,
you won’t even recognize me.
Chorus 1:
But I believe it’s gotta get worse,
before it gets better.
There’s gotta be a rainstorm,
before the sunny weather.
I’ve grown up,
seen the error of my ways.
I’ve moved on,
while mourning the loss of the good ol’ days.
But there’s no point,
Stressing over things,
that you can’t change.
End Chorus 1:
I gained a scar,
for every lesson I have learned.
A trail of black smoke,
emits from all the bridges I have burned.
I'm on a bus headin,
For the east coast.
When I arrive I’ll raise my glass,
To those I’ll miss the most.
But any chance of a decent future,
Is fadin fast.
Unless of course I can,
Finally bid farewell to my past.
Chorus 1x:
I walk alone now,
got nowhere to call my home now.
If given the chance would I,
have thrown this all away?
Cuz I’m lost,
and I’m confused.
I’ve been emotionally abused,
and I will fight this to the death,
because I’ve got nothing left to lose.
So this is gonna be,
the last song,
I’ll ever write about you.
Just keep me in your prayers,
cuz mine don’t seem to be getting through,
getting through.
End.
A question for the dedicated readers.
Of all the pieces I have accumulatated in this blog, which ones would you like to see make the Scattered Thoughts spoken word album?
I'd love any feedback you may have. Drop me an email, or sound off in the comments.
I'd love any feedback you may have. Drop me an email, or sound off in the comments.
Another Stewart Family Memory
It was the Fourth of July.
Packed in a van with my father, step mother, two younger brothers and now ex-girlfriend on our way to my grandfather's to shoot off some fireworks. Alex, the elder of the two, was sitting in the back with my girlfriend. While staring out the window, I heard him tell her this.
Alex: Did you know Brother Ben used to be crazy? But that was a long time ago. He's better now. But he used to be crazy.
He's six years old.
Packed in a van with my father, step mother, two younger brothers and now ex-girlfriend on our way to my grandfather's to shoot off some fireworks. Alex, the elder of the two, was sitting in the back with my girlfriend. While staring out the window, I heard him tell her this.
Alex: Did you know Brother Ben used to be crazy? But that was a long time ago. He's better now. But he used to be crazy.
He's six years old.
This is fucked up and I don't know why I wrote it.
Your heart skipped a beat when we,
first connected at the hips.
But I'll only love you skin deep,
then throw your husk on a pyre made of regrets.
first connected at the hips.
But I'll only love you skin deep,
then throw your husk on a pyre made of regrets.
This is a text message I just sent a friend.
"I know it hurts, that it's hard on both of you. But don't let them poison the love you share. I'm a goddamn woman."
I swear to God, this one's positive.
Did you ever have one of those days?
You know the kind I'm talking about. It hits you before you even open your eyes..."This day's gonna suck". And that's the attitude you carry with you all day long. Everything just goes wrong and makes you want to curl up and cry. But you still try your hardest. It's not the best game face you could have, but at least you're making an effort. Eventually, you go from trying to be at least somewhat productive to just riding out the clock. You go past the point of being upset to just siting in bemused acceptance, eager to see just what could happen next.
Anyway, that's the kind of day I had today. By the end of it, I was so stressed I was calm. If you've ever experienced this, you know how unsettling it is. I got a jump for my car (Oh, yeah, my battery died while I was going to get lunch for management), put on one of my favorite shamelessly emo bands and sang my heart out all the way home. It helped.
When I arrived at my apartment, I was finally able to sit down and breathe. I decided not to let my previous negativity make the day be a complete waste by getting something positive done tonight. I re-read what I had written the night before. Then, I read it aloud and it sounded good. Unfortunately, I didn't have the mic with me. I started going through all my options and decided to try recording it through my MP3 player. I knew the quality would be awful, but at least I'd be able to listen to it immediately.
So, I hit recorded and laid it down. It felt amazing. I've listened to it 20 times. (that's how I rehearse) It's terribly raw, what with the stumbling of some words and the mic distorting my vocals when I get too into it, but it shows a lot of potential. I'm getting somewhere with this.
I started looking back at all the events of the day. I saw something I didn't see before when I was too wrapped up in myself, all the kind gestures from those I work with. I am so grateful to all the people who put up with me today. I also realized something vital...
An attitude can really fuck up your day.
You know the kind I'm talking about. It hits you before you even open your eyes..."This day's gonna suck". And that's the attitude you carry with you all day long. Everything just goes wrong and makes you want to curl up and cry. But you still try your hardest. It's not the best game face you could have, but at least you're making an effort. Eventually, you go from trying to be at least somewhat productive to just riding out the clock. You go past the point of being upset to just siting in bemused acceptance, eager to see just what could happen next.
Anyway, that's the kind of day I had today. By the end of it, I was so stressed I was calm. If you've ever experienced this, you know how unsettling it is. I got a jump for my car (Oh, yeah, my battery died while I was going to get lunch for management), put on one of my favorite shamelessly emo bands and sang my heart out all the way home. It helped.
When I arrived at my apartment, I was finally able to sit down and breathe. I decided not to let my previous negativity make the day be a complete waste by getting something positive done tonight. I re-read what I had written the night before. Then, I read it aloud and it sounded good. Unfortunately, I didn't have the mic with me. I started going through all my options and decided to try recording it through my MP3 player. I knew the quality would be awful, but at least I'd be able to listen to it immediately.
So, I hit recorded and laid it down. It felt amazing. I've listened to it 20 times. (that's how I rehearse) It's terribly raw, what with the stumbling of some words and the mic distorting my vocals when I get too into it, but it shows a lot of potential. I'm getting somewhere with this.
I started looking back at all the events of the day. I saw something I didn't see before when I was too wrapped up in myself, all the kind gestures from those I work with. I am so grateful to all the people who put up with me today. I also realized something vital...
An attitude can really fuck up your day.
Expulsion
I can't keep going on like this. It has to stop. I guess it's time to finally let it all go. I go into the bathroom and strip down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. I step into the bathtub and close the curtain behind me. This is going to get messy.
I sit down in the tub, clutching my knees to my chest. With my eyes closed I focus hard on everything that's been building up inside me. From the cruelty of the schoolyard, the reciprocated disappointment between my family and I, the laughter, love, broken hearts and repressed memories; I remember it all. I let each feeling pass through me. Then, I start to push. It starts out like always, with the tremors coursing through by body, then the tears.
But this time, it's different.
I can feel a trail burning from my eyes all the way down my cheeks. The tears sizzle when they meet flesh and porcelain. I look down and see a puddle forming in the tub, it's black and thick like oil. It's a start.
I zero in on the memories and push harder. The inky fluids trickle from every pore and scorch my skin before congealing in the tub. Take it all, leave nothing behind. I don't want it anymore.
Goddamn, this really hurts.
I can feel a knot starting to swell behind my ribcage. The pressure reaches its crescendo as the sharp, deafening crack of my sternum reverberates off the porcelain around me. All I can do is gasp as my chest explodes outwards, smearing black and red all over the the walls. I had always wondered what a soul looked like. It's gross.
I reach a hand into the gaping hole that was once my torso. It doesn't hurt anymore...I've nothing left to feel.
I now have a couple of options. I could choose to fill the breach with new, positive feelings until that's all I have to focus on. But I'm going to go the safer route. I seal the hole with bricks and mortar, so nothing else will ever be allowed in again.
There, I feel better already.
I sit down in the tub, clutching my knees to my chest. With my eyes closed I focus hard on everything that's been building up inside me. From the cruelty of the schoolyard, the reciprocated disappointment between my family and I, the laughter, love, broken hearts and repressed memories; I remember it all. I let each feeling pass through me. Then, I start to push. It starts out like always, with the tremors coursing through by body, then the tears.
But this time, it's different.
I can feel a trail burning from my eyes all the way down my cheeks. The tears sizzle when they meet flesh and porcelain. I look down and see a puddle forming in the tub, it's black and thick like oil. It's a start.
I zero in on the memories and push harder. The inky fluids trickle from every pore and scorch my skin before congealing in the tub. Take it all, leave nothing behind. I don't want it anymore.
Goddamn, this really hurts.
I can feel a knot starting to swell behind my ribcage. The pressure reaches its crescendo as the sharp, deafening crack of my sternum reverberates off the porcelain around me. All I can do is gasp as my chest explodes outwards, smearing black and red all over the the walls. I had always wondered what a soul looked like. It's gross.
I reach a hand into the gaping hole that was once my torso. It doesn't hurt anymore...I've nothing left to feel.
I now have a couple of options. I could choose to fill the breach with new, positive feelings until that's all I have to focus on. But I'm going to go the safer route. I seal the hole with bricks and mortar, so nothing else will ever be allowed in again.
There, I feel better already.
Content
Tonight I came home and finally beat Mass Effect Two. I cooked myself dinner in my own kitchen. I did a little recording in my living room. Right now, I'm crashed out on the couch watching MST3K. There's no one else around and I can do whatever I want. So, yeah. Pretty good Friday night.
The first Scattered Thoughts MP3
I've just recorded a performance of "Wake Up Call". If you want the free MP3, just let me know.
Communique
She once told me she didn't think anyone really knew who I was, at least not the true me. This was during one of my episodes where she was trying so desperately to understand, but wasn't listening. I'm starting to think she's right. But how much of this is due to my holding back and how much to people never fully listening to what it is I have to say?
People only hear what they want to. I can't tell you how many times I've told someone something,only to have to repeat it again 30 seconds later. It makes me wonder if they're only half listening, or maybe I'm just that bad at communicating with others. It's frustrating.
What's worse, is when people talk to me...I actually listen. I can tell you just about everything there is to know about the people in my life. Now, how many people could truly say the same about me and get it right? Kind of makes me feel like I'm all alone, even when I'm surrounded by those that are supposed to know me best.
People only hear what they want to. I can't tell you how many times I've told someone something,only to have to repeat it again 30 seconds later. It makes me wonder if they're only half listening, or maybe I'm just that bad at communicating with others. It's frustrating.
What's worse, is when people talk to me...I actually listen. I can tell you just about everything there is to know about the people in my life. Now, how many people could truly say the same about me and get it right? Kind of makes me feel like I'm all alone, even when I'm surrounded by those that are supposed to know me best.
Dreams
I dreamt about her again last night.
It used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. The only thing I remember about it was taking her into my arms and the sound of her voice as our eyes met. I liked the dream, but that's only because it wasn't real.
See, when I dream about her, I dream about the person I thought she was or wanted her to be. The reality of her is always much more disappointing.
In the dream, her embrace was warm, inviting, not cold and empty like it was all the times we physically held each other. Her voice was soothing and it filled me with a feeling her lackadaisical one could never conjure in the waking world. I could stare into her counterfeit's eyes forever, never even scratching the surface of the secrets hidden deep within. On this plane, however, they were simply hollow.
I've come to grips with the fact that I have to see her every day. The thing is, though, since it's impossible to forget her, I've decided I want to remember her how I always liked her best; the way she is when she comes to me in my dreams.
It used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. The only thing I remember about it was taking her into my arms and the sound of her voice as our eyes met. I liked the dream, but that's only because it wasn't real.
See, when I dream about her, I dream about the person I thought she was or wanted her to be. The reality of her is always much more disappointing.
In the dream, her embrace was warm, inviting, not cold and empty like it was all the times we physically held each other. Her voice was soothing and it filled me with a feeling her lackadaisical one could never conjure in the waking world. I could stare into her counterfeit's eyes forever, never even scratching the surface of the secrets hidden deep within. On this plane, however, they were simply hollow.
I've come to grips with the fact that I have to see her every day. The thing is, though, since it's impossible to forget her, I've decided I want to remember her how I always liked her best; the way she is when she comes to me in my dreams.
Pictures
I hate taking pictures. I've spent the majority of my adult life trying to get over the past and move on. The last thing I need lying around are visual remnants of memories to remind me. It never fails, whether I'm going through my phone or cleaning out a drawer, the perfect picture pops up at the most inopportune time.
An Examination of Some of the Recent Comments I Have Received
My blog has been visited by a strange phenomenon. More on that in a second. First, there's something you should know.
I take my comments very seriously. You have no idea how great it feels to find an honest comment about something I've written. It doesn't happen very often, and it's usually only a select few (I love you all, dearly), but when it does...it makes my fucking day.
But lately, I've been getting some unusual ones. It started out perplexing enough.
12/30/09
Entry: "Great Moment on OK Cupid 3"
Comment: hello........................................-by 愉悅.
Now, this brings up some questions. Who is this 愉悅? Why did he follow his hello with a link to a porn site in his/her many ellipses? Very odd. Maybe just a very excited fan.
2/16/10
Entry: "Just a Taste"
Comment: 很用心的blog,推推哦 ........................................ -by 皮東
Why, yes, 皮東. It is a blog. Good for you.
3/09/10
Entry: "Harbinger Ch. 10: We interrupt this broadcast"
Comment: 變天了~~注意身體，別感冒囉！ ........................................-by 天天影片
Really? You're writing in hieroglyphics now? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
4/03/10
Entry: "Following Footsteps?"
Comment: your artical is so funny!! it make me so happy!!........................................-by 雅惠
Now I'm starting to get creeped out. This particular "artical" was not so funny. Not even a little bit. I know it's just a spammer, but it's fucking with my head a little bit. Why are there so many ellipsis? Is the porn site really that big?
And it never stops.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume...................................................
(They're getting classier now)
Virtue dwells not in the tongue but in the heart. ............................................................
(I kind of liked that one)
It takes all kinds to make a world.............................................................
(It takes dif'rent strokes, it takes dif'rent strokes to rule the world)
the best as always thanks............................................................
(My ego still allowed me to enjoy this one)
But I'll leave you with the last one I received. The post this one was left on was my latest self pitying diatribe. (I'm better now! The joys of being manic!) In this post I said that I'd take a break from writing and didn't want to share what was going on in my head anymore. This is what 韋以韋以 had to say about that.
GOOD IDEA~thanks............................................................
Mr. 韋以韋以, you're a right prick, but I've gotta give that one to you. Well played, sir. Well played.
I take my comments very seriously. You have no idea how great it feels to find an honest comment about something I've written. It doesn't happen very often, and it's usually only a select few (I love you all, dearly), but when it does...it makes my fucking day.
But lately, I've been getting some unusual ones. It started out perplexing enough.
12/30/09
Entry: "Great Moment on OK Cupid 3"
Comment: hello........................................-by 愉悅.
Now, this brings up some questions. Who is this 愉悅? Why did he follow his hello with a link to a porn site in his/her many ellipses? Very odd. Maybe just a very excited fan.
2/16/10
Entry: "Just a Taste"
Comment: 很用心的blog,推推哦 ........................................ -by 皮東
Why, yes, 皮東. It is a blog. Good for you.
3/09/10
Entry: "Harbinger Ch. 10: We interrupt this broadcast"
Comment: 變天了~~注意身體，別感冒囉！ ........................................-by 天天影片
Really? You're writing in hieroglyphics now? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
4/03/10
Entry: "Following Footsteps?"
Comment: your artical is so funny!! it make me so happy!!........................................-by 雅惠
Now I'm starting to get creeped out. This particular "artical" was not so funny. Not even a little bit. I know it's just a spammer, but it's fucking with my head a little bit. Why are there so many ellipsis? Is the porn site really that big?
And it never stops.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume...................................................
(They're getting classier now)
Virtue dwells not in the tongue but in the heart. ............................................................
(I kind of liked that one)
It takes all kinds to make a world.............................................................
(It takes dif'rent strokes, it takes dif'rent strokes to rule the world)
the best as always thanks............................................................
(My ego still allowed me to enjoy this one)
But I'll leave you with the last one I received. The post this one was left on was my latest self pitying diatribe. (I'm better now! The joys of being manic!) In this post I said that I'd take a break from writing and didn't want to share what was going on in my head anymore. This is what 韋以韋以 had to say about that.
GOOD IDEA~thanks............................................................
Mr. 韋以韋以, you're a right prick, but I've gotta give that one to you. Well played, sir. Well played.
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