New Projects

I have made a decision to make music. I am going to quit fucking around and actually try to do this.
When I am not making or learning to make music I will spend some of my time on simple website creation and administration. And when I want to raise my blood pressure I will be playing APB.

Nightmare Reality

I open the refrigerator door. I hear a hissing noise and glance down to see a forgotten keg of beer has sprung a leak. It looks frosty and cold. I glance away and when I look back it is black with mold and it hits me. I can’t breathe. The gas from the keg is the culprit. I can’t draw a breath. I slam the door and lurch away, desperate to clear my lungs and resume breathing. I struggle and finally make it outside where I collapse, gasping, in the…snow. All alone I lay gasping in the snow and now the danger is not suffocation but freezing to death as I lay there. Alone in the snow.

Then I wake up.

All you have to know is the code

I have codenames for my psychotic breaks from reality. At least I do for the last two. Snow Crash and Slow Burn. Still on Slow Burn, the name suits it. The worst is over, it’s just sorting out the reality from the illness that’s tough.

The code, by the way, is all you need to know to get out.

Hey, loose lips sink ships

You can read my journal when

I am cold and dead

The Art of Being Busy at Nothing

So much to do. None of it seems to change anything. So what is the point of doing anything at all? If perception is reality and nothing I do seems to alter my day to day perception of reality- then what is the point of these activities? The only answer I can come up with is that I need to exist in the Now.

Time seems to be flying, or is it slipping away? Time is relative though, and was created by man.

This pre-coffee ramble has been brought to you from NeScO, buy our shit!

Insanity at the Outlet Mall

So. I’m going to a show next month, gonna see Jimmie’s Chicken Shack at the Hard Rock. It occurred to me that I needed a new pair of pants seeing as I’d been rockin the same two pairs of sweats all winter long and sweats are the last thing you should be caught wearing in a club.
So off to the outlet mall. You see, I shop at the fat and tall, and the only fat and tall within driving distance is located at a somewhat nearby outlet mall. Upon arriving there it became clear that there was going to be a problem finding a parking space anywhere near the store. Walk, you say? I guess you’ve never carried around a significant amount of extra weight, but suffice to say walking is actually physically painful after a certain distance.
So, we’re scanning for an open spot for like 10 minutes when we spot what at first glance appears to be a free spot in a decent location, but upon closer inspection there is a person standing in the spot. Not parked, standing. Sans vehicle. This piece of crap was saving a spot for someone to park in. She even had the nerve to wave us along, almost shooing us. W. T. F.
Ironically, we went around to the other side of the building and found an abundance of open parking spaces.

Retarded Lady
Standing in the Parking Lot
Die in a fire.

The Tao of NeSBiT

I was going to write about my daily Tao Te Ching reading, but my notes are halfway across the room. So instead, I will discuss the Way of NeSBiT.

Once upon a time I was going to write a book. What kind of book it was going to be changed over the years, probably depending on what kinds of books I liked to read. At first, it was going to be a horror novel. Then it morphed into being some sort of Hunter S. Thompsonesque pseudo-true story of my drug addled life. Now it fluctuates between a Snow Crash ripoff and a book of journal entries. The latter is much more likely, since I can’t write fiction for shit and I already have a couple of journals lying around.

/relevance to the title

I have strange dreams these days. I try to remember them but they always slip away. Lately, no dreams at all. Looking for the truth in a dream is like staring at a puddle of your own vomit.

Swiftly lying

surely dying

here upon the bathroom floor

subtly reeking

of thrill seeking

standing in the open door

he holds her hair

she avoids his stare

there upon the bathroom floor

slowly dying

surely crying

Always looking, ever more

The Science of Nothingness

There is a certain arrogance among Star Trek nerds. Let me back up a bit, I play Star Trek Online – so I have met my share of Star Trek nerds.  Anyways, there is a certain arrogance among Star Trek Nerds, especially when it comes to science.  I know where they are coming from.  Science is a Way, it is many Ways.  But science is not all Ways, and it sure as shit is not The Way.  I wish I could elaborate further on what I mean, but I have more things to speak of today.

Nothingness. An interesting concept.  What is nothingness, but the complete and utter lack of anything. But isn’t that something in and of itself?  Thus, nothingness and everything are one and the same.  Both impossible concepts to grasp and understand.  Embrace nothingness says the Zen Buddhist, empty yourself of desire and thought and material wants and needs. Blah fucking blah.  This is the path to enlightenment?  Do I get a new flatscreen when I get there?

Life is suffering.  Pleasure is fleeting.  Does it follow then that the pursuit of pleasure is a waste of time?  Most would say no.  I would have to agree.  Even to those who ultimately strive to rid themselves of desire in all forms, there is an important stage that consists of trying to find the next big high.  And by high I could mean drugs, sex, love, friendship, professional accomplishment, thrills, chills, spills, what have you.

Is there a point to this ramble? Only this: If enlightenment is something to be strived for and held in high regard, if the righteous and the virtuous are to be admired, then why do we push them down into the ground?  Why do we smash in their faces, put them in cages, burn them at the stake,  call them crazy, hold them down, make them cry… thank for that last bit Ms. Apple.

If Christianity holds true, then some dude, name of Jesus, was crucified and stabbed over 2000 years ago so that the rest of us could be saved.  Well, where’s the guy we have to nail to a cross to get saved from ourselves in the here and now?  The promise of Paradise is a lie, a method of control.  We must improve ourselves now.  We must work to achieve a better understanding of the world and ourselves in it.  We must do this now if we truly want… that’s the kicker.  There is no real reward.  We all die in the end, alone, in pain.  There’s the rub.

/rant off