01.12.2012.0800.EST
I awoke this morning like any other, groggy and depleted of emotion. Every day a slow drag of time, time that should be cherished and that which is forgotten. I walked over to the mirror, my face still red from the night before. I felt like a fake now, what had i become? This broken man standing in front a mirror he has his whole life, always judging to find answers. I just stood there, trying to figure out what i want to do with this time i have... this life i have. Any other person on the planet would kill to be in the position i am in. They would have a family to support them financially at the age of 19, a house to live in and food to eat. This was the chance more then anything to make a stand, but life felt miserable. Not in ways that make up a 90's Sitcom, but in ways that would chill you to the bone.
Im not a nice person. I'll be the first to admit it.
So at this point, I was ready. I walked down the steps after quickly snatching the coffee mug inside my Toledo University hoodie front pocket. You had to move quick, that was something I had learned early on.
I turned the corner at the bottom of my steps with ease, not a sound. My sister was asleep upstairs to the back right, near the back entrance to the door on the first floor. If I moved to much shell wonder what the hell is going on down in the kitchen. That can’t happen. It’s 8:03 a.m. and this needs to be quick I kept repeating. I was talking myself into doing it. It’s like when you want to have something too bad that you can’t resist into finding reasons why it will be okay, but this isn’t what I wanted.
I grabbed my black leather shoes and my woven jacket and slowly began to open the back door. This thing always made noise, it was promised. So the slow crawl from it’s closed position to its half way open position made every nerve in my body exponentially more in tune. I looked over my shoulder, had I been paying attention to what I was telling myself just upstairs in the mirror. This was bad, I have it great here, why am I still pushing these limits. I was trying to break every last bit of trust, love, and hope out of my family. I was mining for resources when I had nowhere else to go. This was my home, this wa…
I got the second screen door open and began to slip out onto the wooden back deck my family invested so much into. Every step I took echoed just a tad under the deck boards. If I stepped to hard it would cause such a low thud sound that my sister could easily hear it from her window. It was early morning and she’s either still asleep, getting up now, or already up. These options of which one quickly faded from my mind as I reached the last board on the deck and stepped gently into the grass.
This was the time to be moving I kept repeating, don’t stop just do it. I pulled out the coffee mug I had from up stairs and twisted off the top. In doing so I positioned myself against the wall of my house, looking to the street behind the tall decorator shrub.
I reached inside the mug and pulled out a twisted up wad of 2 zip lock heavy duty zipper bags engulfing 2 smaller ones. I took a knee and began to open this concoction of protective and smell layers of plastic. The first too were easy to slide off and get open, the other 2 were a bit of a struggle in this cold. Once open I reached inside the last one and grabbed the Tylenol bottle from within. I dropped the plastic wad and unlocked the child proof top. My thin fingers were great for reaching inside and pulling out the bag from it’s bowels.
I looked back to the plastic wad and removed the lighter and bowl from the first layer. I had to go now. I looked down to the bag of weed and began to begin the transfer into the bowl, it was quick I remember that. I remember looking down and seeing the bowl I had packed sitting near the wall as I put the weed back into the protective layer I had set up for it. I then turned and picked up the lighter after I set the coffee mug filled with the bags down. The bowl had spilled a bit, and I desperately tried to pack the bits that fell by plucking them out of the wood chips around the shrub.
Once I was satisfied with my recovery attempts I probably started smoking right then. Standing up checking in every direction for sound of doors opening, loud thuds, or screams from within my house. I did anywhere between 6-9 hits. Coughing in my sleeve and walking away for louder ones. I returned the bowl to the outer layer of the bag inside the coffee and tightened the lid back up. I pushed into my jacket inside pocket and walked back to the deck and begun the slow cat walk back to the door. Once arrived my heart was pounding, the entire weight of the situation hit my all at once. If I was caught right here and now I would be kicked out, I only have 2 USD to my name. I didn’t have friends, no one close to me. I put myself into this hell hole of loneliness and if I was kicked out, I’d have to die. With 3 previous trips into a psych ward for attempted suicides. I didn’t have that much care I reminded myself. I knew what this life was, I studied it. Every detail of this planet my entire life I wanted to know about it. Instead of god I had myself and the world around me. Born atheist and remained it. Every cell of the other beings called human and myself I despised by now. This organism does so much more harm then good. We are pitiful in our attempts to survive and expand into the solar system. Even if somehow we got to a point where our species is in unison and can expand into space, id be dead.
The door closed behind me I was inside again. I took off my shoes as I looked around the kitchen frantically listening for sounds from upstairs . Nothing. I moved to the next phase. I didn’t think I would make it to that point to be honest. The house was on full alert since my last alcohol and drug “abuses”. I started the process of hiding any remaining smell; moving the jacket with the coffee mug into the back room and starting a coffee with the instant maker. Within 2 mins, the downstairs smelled like an early morning work session. That’s what the original plan was today, just with out the weed.
I looked around upon arriving in my back room, coffee in hand, soul in arrest. The door slammed shut, this would wake them up, good. I sat down on “their” leather office chair and stared at the 55 inch plasma and sound system set up months before. It was their old TV they leant me. I turned on some lights around the back room including 3 fluorescents near my macbook pro. The light on the right hand side of my macbook hardly ever turned on. It wasn’t dead, like blown out. It would just take an undisclosed amount of time turning on. Maybe 5 seconds, maybe an hour. Then after debating weather to keep thinking about lights or turn away. I turned to be facing the backroom. Clean and organized, Nothing mine. I was here on lease basically. Anything and it was done. The perfect aroma and clean cut nature of the room stared me in the face.
I remember just being repulsed by it. This is what my days had come to? Just getting high and playing games and making music? One day I have to stand up and do something about this I repeated to myself. The fake joy that you’ll actually let yourself be “normal” for awhile. I picked up the PS3 controller and turned on the systems.
I played Crash Bandicoot 2 for 5 mins before feeling so low that I had to stop. The game I had been waiting to play high now for 2 weeks. It didn’t feel right, it felt forced. I couldn’t have that right now. I walked over and sat down at my macbook pro.
I proceeded to load my partition of Windows 7 Ultimate onto the cpu and begin the task of finding a server on Battlefield 3. I would play this game to scare myself when I was high sometimes. I loved thinking I would be dead at any turn, it gave me adrenaline to want to live but have no fear of death. I would load these “hardcore” version of the game up and proceed to remove the entire HUD off the screen. This way the only thing you saw in the first person shooter was the gun and your hands. No map, No friendly Icons, No crosshair. Nothing. The fear of death became real to me. The amazing graphics pushed me to the edge of my seat, wanting to live. Killing for survival. An experience in its self.
It says I was under review after some “Punkbuster” errors. This meant I couldn’t play on ranked servers right now and could be banned from them entirely. I had a sick feeling in my gut because I knew I had no hacks on my computer, but I was a first time offender around a 5 years ago and was banned for a year.
This is boring I thought. I sat there thinking… What do I do now?
Music came into my mind, songs, symphonies. I stared at the screen. I want to record some songs I thought. I had done this often recently but not enough.
The reboot process from the Windows 7 side of the Mac to the OSX side would take about 40 seconds.
Then a flash came from the right side of my vision, I looked around and saw nothing so I turned back to the screen. Then again a flash.
I was frightened for only a second when I looked up to find that florescent light to the right of me was attempting to turn on again. How long had it been since I turned it on I thought.
I looked back to the Conversion process happening on my computer screen and said “this is something… what if these two things happening are not a coincident? What if this is a sign, Those atoms had pushed their way into that light bulb, that electric current is attempting to live right now. It’s slow painful few flickers of attempted light.
The computer began to load up the Mac Operating System. No way I thought, that’s bullshit. The light flickered again. “Fuck you” I replied to the light. As if it could hear me. I looked back to the screen. “There’s no way. Im goanna be fucking pissed off if that light comes on when…” I got cut off by the famous mac chimes at its start. The light flickered quickly and then a low humm and bright light.
“God damnit.”
Is this a sign? Is this my time to stand up and finally do something. Fuck write this I thought. Write it down. Will it still make sense later? I didn’t care. I knew this had to mean something. So I went to a forum, facepunch.com, and began to type out this story. Someone had to know about it… This isn’t a coincident.
A paragraph in I looked at what I had written and I felt inspired. Something was turning on in my head. I gave myself false hope to begin to start something I enjoyed doing. I moved the text into word and poured it all out. As much as I could fit within this small page.
I listened to music while creating this page, while I sat here and typed out this story, this journey I had not but an hour ago. The playlist is as follows:
[I PURPOSELY PICKED THE OFFICIAL ONES BY THE WAY ;) ]
RADIOHEAD: Everything in it’s right place [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onRk0sjSgFU[/url]
MUSE: Citizen Erased [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiHUKVoYbdc[/url]
BLACK LP: I have heard you just fine [media]http://soundcloud.com/russell-passano/i-have-heard-you-just-fine[/media]
THE FLAMMING LIPS: Convinced of the hex [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZ3S-c-96ik[/url]
THE BIG PINK: Velvet [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tt2jw-NcQ9s&ob=av2n[/url]
BLACK LP: A message from space [media]http://soundcloud.com/russell-passano/a-message-from-space[/media]
TYLER THE CREATOR: Yonkers [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSbZidsgMfw[/url]
THE NATIONAL: Fake empire [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKWKRMxXB0M[/url]
RADIOHEAD: There there [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AQSLozK7aA&ob=av2e[/url]
MUSE: Blackout [url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNJYBOj7Cfc&ob=av2n[/url]
BLACK LP: Just give me something I can dance to [media]http://soundcloud.com/russell-passano/just-give-me-something-i-can[/media]
Was this space I thought?... Then I remembered back, I had written something before I went to that last psych ward….
There was something to be said…
[PLEASE NOTE THAT THE FOLLOWING HAS BEEN EDITED FROM ITS ORIGINAL STATE]
SPACE: For Russell Passano
A hero is a child’s drug.
Where to begin. It seems that the further I go in life the more I jump between my own realities. I feel like your always told how to live, what to do, where to go and at what age. When you rebel your an outcast. (Sense right (EDIT))
This might just end up as a large amount of rants from various points in my life. They say to best understand your life you need to rite about it, well I assume someone has said that at one point, if not ill trademark it and sue. That seems to be the American dream nowadays. The quick buck.
Why not just give money to those in need? Who cares if they didn’t earn it, their starving? Your not.
We’ve become, as a society that is, more focused on the idea of work and reward then any other animal known to civilized man. We seem to have a need to want to work, only for money, or free unless it’s helping others. But we don’t really want to work, we want to sit down and have enough money to live the entirety of our lives in bliss.
Remove money. Then you’re just an animal.
Are we the “dumb” animal, creating motivations (money, religion) to keep us alive, and in the end is the root of what kills.
So why can’t we just live, why cant we just be? Why do I need to get a job, to fuel an economy, to add to the industrialized nation? Cant I just have food and shelter and what makes me happy. That’s insane the more I reread it… well, only from your perspective.
I’ve created multiple versions of myself in my head. Jeff did this once; little did he know I had been doing it for years now. It’s quite easy… you know that feeling when something is telling you to do something you really want to do, but shouldn’t because its bad, illegal, end you up in trouble, make people judge you, be different, and outcast…. Yeah just do it. You’ll begin to open a door in your head. Look at the world in how it is…
This isn’t a drug rant… I wish it were… it might make more sense.
I have green paint all over my left arm from the day before. Also my dick hurts from jacking off an hour ago… idk why, typically its good. It could be due to my increased desires to want to penetrate someone. Then I realize that urge is just biological, the need to mate… to reproduce…. Is it a good thing?
Hell no. Look at what our species does… look at how we destroy on a scale that has never before existed on this planet. Why would we want more of us? cause babies are cute?
Shit. Maybe religion is a good thing, makes people hold off on fucking till marriage… potentially could keep the birth rates down… I wonder where our population would be if we were all atheists.
There would be a high suicide rate though probably… so it might be less.
Why speculate… I can’t change it.
To many people are brainwashed already. From birth they’re given a religion, a family, a set of values. No choice. It’s only if they are smart enough to see around them and figure out what’s what.
I’m glad both my parents are atheist.
Then again, if I was blinded by religion I wouldn’t be in this bookstore writing this debating suicide or sleeping in the woods. Both seem appetizing with my recent escapades…
Eventually I’ll have to begin to explain why i'm at this point… but not yet. Ranting is bringing out ideas.
Why the fuck do people have to edit things… why not just let them be in their original states… Aren’t we therefore pushing our own ideas on people? A movie, Books, magazines, lies.
I quiet enjoy a good liar, they are way more entertaining then normal people. Most people bore me, they wont open up, and they’ll stay in their pretty little shell. Scared to open up to this hell… it’s a fun hell though. We quite enjoy it…
There I go again saying we… if there was another person here imp sure they wouldn’t agree with this writing style… unless it was me… then we might get together quite well… no alter ego or different sex though… why would you want a female version of you… would that version find you attractive. If not, that’s quite depressing. You wouldn’t even fuck yourself…
Masturbation probably has saved a bunch of lives… Future rapists probably helped themselves out by doing it.
I have to sell my camera… this will lead to a lack of excitement and women. The women part is obvious… the excitement is a tad more complex… Taking pictures of people that don’t want their picture taken has always fascinated me. Why do you care if your not doing anything worth the negativity?
Where was I? Was I going anywhere with this? will I go back and edit this… no. That would be … that fucking word I cant think of now… ill spit it out randomly at some point… once I remember it.
Super 8?
Will Jeff come? Brandon?
Hopefully they will add to this…
(HERE)
Well…
Open your mouth wide… I need this to be some sort of wake up call… in any direction would be for the better right now. Insomnia better happen… or… yeah.
Should I sell the ps3? I need the money… that’s for sure… who would drive me there? would they want to?... where will I end up tonight? I’m getting bad vibes about this new plan…
Movies end…. My life seems to keep going… when will the credits roll? Better be soon, this movie is just depressing. What if that’s what human were? Interesting movies for aliens to watch through our eyes because they live 100 fold what we do? then again no…
Fuck.
We’ve got quite some verve to be doing this to ourselves. Ill feed my veins with counter arguments and lies to make it a better place to coincide.
Alien ships…. Id love that job of surveying planets. Ids sure as hell tell people to stay away from this one. Seriously… that might have happened… aliens don’t want us, they’ve found us and deemed us to hostile. We might be doomed to die alone on this rock. It would make sense though for us all to die… were not a good species in any form. The select few intervals, like hippies and potheads are out casted. Why? What the hell are they doing?
What am I doing more like it?
Who are these people? These faces? Have I seen them before? Or are they just now coming to me… seems like a legit place to live though… this planet it is.
I should just steal liquor from the house… how? Go in and unlock the back door. Sneak back in at night…. Presto. Consequences…. No more money… fuck.
Why is money the way it is? Retarded.
The dark cell. The pillar of my soul.
I still cant think of that word that I was thinking about a few pages back, or was it paragraphs… i'm not going back to find out… that’s bullshit. I write. Someone else can edit and add to this. A beginning is a beginning… unless it’s a cycle… then fuck it jump out of the washer… don’t want to be wet, unless your going to rape a girl… then you want to slide in.
Too much…. Or not enough? To many options in this world… Should I reactivate facebook… just to keep fucking with everyone? Its quiet fun… my reputation is non existent anyways…
I’m staring at these letters i'm pushing.. The more I stare at them the less meaning they have… but im still able to keep typing… they just look like lines… pointless lines… no sound attached to them… no meaning… I love it… and at the same time…
Hipster to my top left…. Idiotique… for sure… plasma lies and creped lungs.
I’m taking my acoustic guitar… liquor and music.
All I need.
If not liquor maybe just sex?
Sex and music…. Without liquor it’ll be bland…. If im not fucked up I feel like im not horny enough for sex… yet im the horniest when im sober… but high sex is amazing… yet I forget it and it goes by without thought… drunk is sloppy but memorable in a way… anal sex with a girl for her first time is the best… slow… patient… then she’s broken in… free to more about and accept things in her…
Women…. The ones that help our species repeat… it’s funny how there are sluts and prudes. Sluts try not to get pregnant… the only time the prudes have sex is for babies… what a terrible way to live… Then again it might keep them sane…
I think wed all be better if we were asexual… no pleasure came from it either… pain. So then we would have to be smart about it. Or people would just have armies of their offspring… That’s why the 7.62mm bullet was made though. Carnage.
Lions live to live. Dolphins too… humans relapse and encourage. Not enough I say…
This dude is drinking this bottle like its his fucking job… but enjoying the moment more then anything ive ever seen…. Does he see me typing like a mad man at my Mac…? Am I the hipster… with green paint on his arm… listening to lotus flower and rambling about the makings and downfalls of the real world…. Am I the crazy one for caring that im alive…? And wanting to keep thriving… Ill just keep typing until the desk vibrates…. Then ill get answers to my questions…. Not ones I want… but ones I need…. It would help if my mind wasn’t so paranoid…. Buzz buzz….. Be right back.
That was either an amazing try at a guilt trip or a very funny mess-up…. She… my mom sent me the wrong text… supposes to be for my sister…. She… my sister that is… is suppose to pick me up and take me back to get more clothes and money… their money… from my camera… and she’s not to thrilled with me… then the super 8…
But anyways the text reads:
“Your responsibility with him will then be done… and you can refrain from telling us we are stupid or any other judgmental comment that you have.”
30 seconds later
“That was for Hannah”
I figured as much…. Good tactic? Or am I over thinking it… if I do think about it too much and that’s what she wanted. She won… but is it really a game of winners and losers…
Yes… the winners are alive, but in “reality” they have the most money.
Shit… I started to talk about my past and present… that doesn’t seem fair to me… I know nothing about you…. You as if someone’s still reading this ranting and rambling… the true work of a mad artist… a mad atheist artist. The worst combination known to civilized man…. I need something strong tonight…. Something powerful… might end up walking to Sunoco…. Then ill be blazing something crazy… ill be crazy ha-ha. Ill go crazy. Ahahaha
Or not…. Maybe a sober night? One to many though… to few gaps of it.
Hmmm 50% that will work out… I texted Jeff about alcohol and coming over… 2am is the projected time of arrival… should I fuck him over? or stay true…. Idk yet…
If he gets it now ill hold off… if not…. Sunoco… higher then something I should be….
I hope Brandon or someone comes… that would be for the best I feel.
He’s Asian; this man sitting there drinking is root beer… the hipster… reading a newspaper… at a coffee shop… why? doesn’t he have things better to do then this? Or is this him existing… just being… am I talking out loud… the voice in my head surely is leaking out somewhere…
Conscious propaganda to keep me alive I feel like. That’s what I call those moments when you choose to cave in… go back home after leaving for good… the need for food… resist… RESIST…. Have to resist…. Should I call people tonight? Like every night… the need for attention… the feelings of wanting to be wanted… how can everyone else just sit there and accept this…. Bullshit I say.
I’m going to rant ahead… like properly… non objectively… hold off for comment.
Please.
The whole world seems to turn as the pages of the years begin to cripple under the weight of its existence. We are the pawns that they created. Never knowing and always watching they force into your lies and build up your love. We can’t be here for long it seems…
That was fun…. Just typing… if I stop typing I hit the paragraph thing… the enter key… btw…. That’s why there is so many…. Maybe I should start messing with the alignments of this page… why the margins? They seem pointless…
If I move them in I wrote more pages… outward is where we need to go… no need for borders and lines. Rules and regulations.
Yeah I like this better… I really have to work now to push this paragraph to the edge of the paper just to make another line… if it were up to me every sentence would be it’s own paragraph… then nothing would flow though…. Shot down my own idea in a second…. Brilliant.
I removed the margins completely now… the whole page is going to be filled with words…. If only I could write overtop of this… I guess I could… just have to open up Photoshop…. Fuck im hungry… I need money… I need drugs… I need I need I need.
Pack my own food and beverages? Brilliant… maybe Hannah will check me in? would she do that for me?.... maybe…. Do I need clothes?
I don’t know about this…. Maybe the margins are a good thing? I need someone to edit this…. Elise? Lol she hates me most likely…. Wait…. No…. fuck her… why do I cave so easily… I need pussy… I think.
Hmm I need to rethink this space thing…. Is it really just space? Endless rants that will eventually repeat with time and age? The more anyone lives the more they feel they have new ideas but really they have been building in the mind for years and years. Then they pop in…. your mind obviously is always thinking… you’re just not able to see the process…. It would be too overwhelming… it seems when I let go though… I open some door I never thought I had… like 8 year old me thought we had…. She seems like she just has the job to say she has it….
Got distracted again by the sight of pussy lol and again… she has an awkward face though…. In time id be able to find it beautiful… im able to do that weirdly enough… im a prototype… obviously I have flaws… but that’s for the engineers to decide and fix.
I’m just going to create tonight… no music… just typing and typing… alone in a super 8 listening to music…. I wish I had drugs… I might cave and go get some with the money…. How can I sustain then? Is Jeff right?
I hope you kept reading this Jeff… or I convinced you o get high or drunk or sober with me and I read it to you aloud.
Music keeps me going… alive…. Sane… ill need to convince her to let me take that guitar…. Watch a string break…. Id definitely go insane then…. Fuck I need someone to check me in lol
Look at these useless people… these fucking animals…. Wearing different clothes to stand out or stay warm… so useless, yet they feel like they are so empowered to do so… to be here … to be alive…
At least I saw past it all I guess…. Will this be my will… that last document someone reads and they are like… shit he’s insane…. Maybe if I go back through with sources… facts to it all… to prove I not insane… lol….
They discuss their lives like it’s worth anything to anyone else…. We are so pathetic…
But I think that’s good for us… if everyone thought like this there would be mass panic… hysteria. No love just sexes anything worth it.
Like me…. I don’t want to be wanted… I want to be alone… with this computer and alcohol… happy and content… until I die…. I can do that…. Tomorrow… tonight… I just need to get more money….how? Ps3…. Sell it? Ask dad… drain him more…. Yes…..
No
No real reason. I need to change what im listening too… how have I written this much… it’ like I can just keep spewing out this nonsense until someone stops me… or I stop myself…. So hungry though… I think ill just through in past things in a nice vibrant red…. And make that shit centered and clear to read and understand… then tonight… when im alone… finally… post it… then well see what happens… I don’t want to get high… drunk yes lol
I need to stop saying lol so much, it comes off as dumb to those reading it unless they know my sense of humor… the very little I have remaining… I don’t know if I ever had any… Tessa… That’s what this night may turn into… shit…
Two hours and I have this much written… maybe im a writer… but who would read it?
Alright…
Enough of the personal shit…
Or…. The ideas I should say.
Let’s explain something right here. I m 19 ears old and I think life is a joke. I feel like ive went through all the experiences ill ever need and then some. I feel like im waiting for my death… or 21…. Whichever comes first and then at the same time? Maybe I should write poetry and post that too? All at once?
Or …
Should I include it in here… in blue… randomly between the red… It would be what space is… the umping between extreme moments… uncertain for the future or where you are… where your going… watch… till be dark soon… ill have to walk… the woods will be where im at later… or super 8… with 43 dollars for alcohol or some shit….
I have a feeling Jeff might never come… or Brandon… ill be lopsided and alone….
I will quiet enjoy it… damn hiss Radiohead… check your levels!
Im at 6 pages again… with this weird ass shit no margin bullshit I created… still hungry… winding down for now… maybe for good… I might find this later and be like what the fuck?
What space was I in?
Well yeah. Goodbye. The Asian hipster left… I think its time for me to follow suit.
[THE TEXT WILL NOW RESUME WITHOUT EDITING]
It kept flowing out. Unable to be controlled.
I wasn’t sure which way was up. The next few hours felt like hell. I walked over to a guitar center and waited for my sister to come pick me up. She was infuriated. We arrived home wear I began packing clothes and food into a bag. I was going to stay 1 night at a Super 8. That didn’t happen of course, by the time we arrived at the Super 8 Elizabeth had already called ahead to make sure everything went off horribly. I ended up walking down the 376 towards Pittsburgh with no care. I tossed my phone into a sewer and proceeded to march down the highway, occasionally getting honked out or yelled at from the hooligans that were not starting to fill up the night. Every passerby made me cringe. I wanted nothing. And everything. It was up, down… inside out. I wandered miles back to my house and attempted to be let in. My sister just walked away from the door. I started to make my way to the woods. I would sleep there tonight, without alcohol or drugs. Alone.
I cried for a bit while I sat on the edge of the darkness of the woods. Id kill myself if I stayed out here tonight. I wasn’t ready for it. I needed alcohol. I needed to be numb one last time. All wait till tomorrow. Tonight Ill sleep next to my house on the side. Near a heat exhaust point. Id feel a little more secure I thought.
A cop car. He stops. I stop. Asks me if im Russell. I say yes. He says, “You feeling a little depressed tonight?” “A little.”
302’d on the Spot. I was taken to the hospital without my consent. Signed in by the police. I would be here for awhile I thought.
I was.
Now im typing here, to you. Don’t be here. This is where I am.
END
EXPAND 1:
[WRITTEN 1[SUP]st[/SUP] DAY AFTER DISCHARGE]
[URL="http://silenceofspace.tumblr.com/post/15692315760"]BEGINNINGS AND ENDS.[/URL]
-THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.
How do you begin when it seems your at the end.
It seems we need a place to throw out these things that have brought us so much pain… so much misery.. we look back on our lives and feel it’s time to start a new… yet at the same time… we feel its time to come to an end.
-ITS A SIMPLE IDEA
Today is the day we were released from our third trip to a psych ward. We were 302’d last Saturday night. Picked up by police, wandering the streets of our hometown. Looking for an answer, willing to let it all go. Something had to come our way. We didn’t know anyone called, anyone cared. But someone did.
We are debating whether or not to hate them… or… let it all blow over. forgive…
-ONE THAT WILL DIG AT YOUR BONES
Is this our last stand? Hoping somewhere out there a being exists which understands this pain… this fear. Do we all just go insane eventually? Or are we just another Emotional kid on the internet… begging for attention. Showing anything to to pull you in… and we will… That’s in time though.
-AND SNEAK UP YOUR SPINE
We warn you what we post is not censored… we’re tired of holding back and hoping itll be understood. But then again. Who are we to understand?
Art. Poetry. Music. Film.
Is this the beginning of mass change?…
-AND CONSUME YOUR SOUL
Can an idea… an idea truely be all it takes..
Is this just Space we are in? The silence the sound of the concept. That moment when any sound… at all… would be helpful… but instead your left with your own thoughts… your mind… to play tricks on you.
-DONT MAKE A SOUND
We are just an animal. A being. Electricity and Organic compounds. We are not special or unique. We are plagued with Conscious. We are blinded from birth, forced to accept others beliefs. No chance to make something new. Do we not realize the situation we are in? Floating on a rock in Space. Pointlessly around and around a star. Until It fades. Until we are ancient.
Do you have what it takes to be remembered? Or fade from ever exsisting.
Some choose to just live…
Why not try and find the reason to the silence of space.
The reason to live.
-IT HAS YOU
There is none.
So dig in, show your teeth. Rip the flesh away. Fight to be remembered. Fight to be something more then just alive. Fight to be a Legend.
-SPACE
This is the beginning… but where will it end?
IT CAN BE FOUND HERE.
[URL]http://silenceofspace.tumblr.com/[/URL]
Signed,
Russell Passano
A bit much to read.
[QUOTE=Burgervich;34375318]A bit much to read.[/QUOTE]
Somehow i figured this would happen. It's my fault for thinking anyone on here had an attention span greater then 5 minutes.
[QUOTE=King of Limbs;34377117]Somehow i figured this would happen. It's my fault for thinking anyone on here had an attention span greater then 5 minutes.[/QUOTE]
It was pretty obviously just a simple comment, there's no need to attack him.
This thread is starting off exactly like your last one,
If you want anyone in CC to take you seriously you need to calm down.
Don't have time to read this in great detail right now but from what I did read:
-Good, but excessive usage of the stream of consciousness, it's clear you're portraying someone with some real mental difficulties but being written as it is is becomes difficult to read and the whole work in general feels insane as opposed to just the character
-There's a lot of jargon and unneeded technical detail, this does link back into the stream of consciousness of course but when every other line feels like reading a technical manual it can be off-putting (see especially in regards to the character's usage of computers)
-Paragraphing and general structure - please work on this, at the start it feels like a massive block and then it turns into an insane mess of thoughts which is of course a part of what you are trying to convey but once again it comes on too strong
-There are an awful lot of references in here, to internet culture and in general nerdy/sci-fi things, now, while it is good to make reference to emphasise context and the various different important themes surrounding the character, but especially when you are using text speech and abbreviations like 'btw' and the whole 'I need to stop saying lol' thing it comes across as forced and slightly annoying
-There is a lot of good, interesting language usage, just make sure you use language that characters would realistically use, not every character has to have as good a vocabulary as you do
-You have put a lot of work into conveying the ideas and the insanity of the character, which pays off
-Could use some more imagery; an insane/drug fuelled character especially is a perfect platform to create very vivid images
NB:
"I have green paint all over my left arm from the day before. Also my dick hurts from jacking off an hour ago… idk why, typically its good. It could be due to my increased desires to want to penetrate someone. Then I realize that urge is just biological, the need to mate… to reproduce…. Is it a good thing?"
please don't do this, it's an especially distinguished example of almost all of the bad points I highlighted
[QUOTE=JoeyZ;34378234]This thread is starting off exactly like your last one,
If you want anyone in CC to take you seriously you need to calm down.[/QUOTE]
How am i not being calm? I replied to his statement with how i felt. This is the creation corner and I'm pretty sure it comes hand in hand that if someone put time into writing something you read all of it or summarize bits like Metanar did and respond accordingly.
I'm sorry for expecting actual criticism instead of half assed replies about the length of the piece. But of couse everyone just sees this as a hostile attack on them and begins to complain that im mean to everyone.
You guys seriously never cease to amaze me. You judge the hell out of someone to hell and back and expect them to sit there and just say Okay, I understand, good points. If you had said something that you actually put time into then I wouldn't lash back at you. It's not that hard to figure out. Then again this is the internet and I'll never learn :P
ANYWAYS
Thanks Metanar for the response. I definitively want to go back and fix this thing up and keep adding to it and your suggestions and concerns will definitively be taken to thought. I want the character to feel natural and raw without being forced. So i think some revising with use of structure and flow will help in the long run.
Thanks
Wow chill out dude
Your post was very very long and not really well presented, so it's basically normal that people would not have the courage to read it.
And also acting all angry is the number #1 rule of "what-not-to-do" in the CC section.
*Read's five sentences* [IMG]http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100828054703/uncyclopedia/images/b/b5/Exploding-head.gif[/IMG]
[QUOTE=King of Limbs;34379318]How am i not being calm? I replied to his statement with how i felt. This is the creation corner and I'm pretty sure it comes hand in hand that if someone put time into writing something you read all of it or summarize bits like Metanar did and respond accordingly.
I'm sorry for expecting actual criticism instead of half assed replies about the length of the piece. But of couse everyone just sees this as a hostile attack on them and begins to complain that im mean to everyone.
You guys seriously never cease to amaze me.[/QUOTE]
Anger comes from expectations not being met. You expected detailed critique and analysis in a subforum where writing is obviously not one of the major subjects of the people here.
You chose to post this without looking at the demographics or the inclinations of the artists here and then become frustrated when you are not met with what you expect. Instead of being so rash maybe you should take the time to find a place where writing is a main focus instead of posting it where people work more in graphic design.
I am not saying you shouldn't post here, it is perfectly within your rights and you are in the correct section but you will not get the help you are expecting. Most of us do not even write as a hobby or enjoy it so even if we did critique a lot of it would not help or would be misguided.
So I would recommend finding another place to get critique on your writing, for your own personal gain.
[QUOTE=1chains1;34379494]Anger comes from expectations not being met. You expected detailed critique and analysis in a subforum where writing is obviously not one of the major subjects of the people here.
You chose to post this without looking at the demographics or the inclinations of the artists here and then become frustrated when you are not met with what you expect. Instead of being so rash maybe you should take the time to find a place where writing is a main focus instead of posting it where people work more in graphic design.
I am not saying you shouldn't post here, it is perfectly within your rights and you are in the correct section but you will not get the help you are expecting. Most of us do not even write as a hobby or enjoy it so even if we did critique a lot of it would not help or would be misguided.
So I would recommend finding another place to get critique on your writing, for your own personal gain.[/QUOTE]
Well that's what I shall do then.
Thank you for the well thought out response.
Also, capitalize your "I"s when writing, because that just immediately gives off a very bad message.
We also have a short stories thread somewhere here, so for writing you could probably go there if you just plan on writing short stories.
[editline]January 24th, 2012[/editline]
[url=http://www.facepunch.com/threads/1147851]Here it is.[/url]
[QUOTE=King of Limbs;34379551]Well that's what I shall do then.
Thank you for the well thought out response.[/QUOTE]
Holy shit, for once someone didn't argue with me, I am in awe.
Like seriously, my feet just got cold because hell froze over.
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