The Bending

The funny thing about regret is, often times it’s lamenting the consequence(s) of the action...

Wed, 15 May 2013 02:52:00 -0400

The funny thing about regret is, often times it’s lamenting the consequence(s) of the action or lack thereof - not the action itself. As if it’s only acknowledged when your actions become the subject of scrutiny, or the perception of judgement from others. Is it truly moral to regret, if you’re doing so simply for the sake of others? Additionally, it’s irritating to see so many examples of people conflating ‘regret’ with ‘remorse.’ While the two aren’t mutually exclusive, there is a defining line to be had. But I suppose that’s too much to ask when all you can do is think you’re somehow a lesser person because of your actions, as if you refuse to learn from them.

"The person I consider myself to be."

Sun, 05 May 2013 14:51:30 -0400

Yet another crisis while driving home from Glendale the other night.

I tend to perpetuate whatever I’m feeling until I’ve completely dissected and...

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 00:18:12 -0500

I tend to perpetuate whatever I’m feeling until I’ve completely dissected and deconstructed each reason why I am so. Whether it takes a few minutes or a few months, it’s generally what defines my initial feeling for however long it’s relevant. Subsequently, my sense of time and pacing have become completely null; days string together in what can only be described as a tour of indifference. My lack of social and political progress is more than apparent, but with my external world being so neglected on a consistent basis (regardless of apathy or indifference) I’ve come to accept it as collateral.

It brings balance, which I am admittedly a major proponent of.

Everyone in the INTP tag: “Why isn’t there an INTP stereotype survey? The INTJ tag has...

Sun, 10 Feb 2013 18:56:00 -0500

Everyone in the INTP tag: “Why isn’t there an INTP stereotype survey? The INTJ tag has one! Perhaps I should make one?”

*5 minutes later*

Everyone in the INTP tag: “Meh, I’m sure someone will make one eventually.”

INTP STEREOTYPE SURVEY THING (kind of)

1. 40 living at home in their parents basement.
2. 40 year old virgin
3. Socially deprived
4. Game Addicts
5. Atheist
6. Geniuses
7. Anti-social
8. Perverts
9. Nerds
10. Computer experts
11. Schizoid
12. Stoned all the time
13. Star Wars/Trek fan
14. The most logical of all types
15. Pretentious

*Disclaimer: These are not self-prescribed, merely titles who some lovely folks on the internet have burdened us with.

P.S. I’ll get around to answering this eventually…

My every little step makes a break for the wraith I embellish,Keeping a warm hand for an empty...

Sun, 30 Dec 2012 00:58:00 -0500

My every little step makes a break for the wraith I embellish,
Keeping a warm hand for an empty canvas you can’t imagine,
You call that symmetry? I call that an iron combine at best,
It’ll float if you let it, but usually I’m not so inclined to let it rest,
Inclination at its best, there’s no time to be the rest,
There’s more to being the whole that missed the entire spectrum.
Two hands and a heavy heart later I find your love compressing innate narratives,
Seemingly prophetic opinions when all I see is red.
And this is this, that’s the turning of an era,
Posing lab rats to sniff out the cheddar that we’re all bargaining for,
Apex abound, the quality of what I can afford ain’t no joke,
It’s times like this where I stress quality control,
QUALITY CONTROL -
Some days I let her rung out the snow,
Show her the designating subtleties to compound and my grimace takes its toll,
Some days I’m left with nothing in the here and now,
Step back into fathoming a peaking brow,
- Fuck that, I’m sleepy now; ha.
Perhaps it was me buying into false marketing,
Or perhaps it was being dragged under for further questioning?
Either way, I’m dead, in fact I’ve died twice,
Once I left, and another when my name failed to be mentioned.
Here come the weary, alas legacies are heard;
I’m left to figure a knotted figure eight mystery that begs me for contentment,
Attempted, but the mask can’t be maintained in frigged temperatures.
And for all who’s here, myself included,
Let’s recap the past few or so tears -
God is dead,
God is Dead,
GOD IS DEAD,
Can’t you hear?
I’m not one to brag, but damn I’m thinking clear,
Or at least I was, humbled by my little plummet,
I’m old enough to die young, but not quite old enough to say I’ve done it.

Hands turned back against the winds of dremora, Eyes steeled from the richest civic...

Thu, 06 Dec 2012 00:13:25 -0500

Hands turned back against the winds of dremora,
Eyes steeled from the richest civic proportions,
Ax-bane hatcher, a handsome death til the very end,
A once bogged orc surmounting ancient evil deliverance,
Perpetual miasma, brutish amongst the sick winter,
Calming peaks clear until the piercing choir comes between them.
Seeming charlatans, but none weary of fog that stands forth,
Quietly amongst them I hear tales of a brave and bloodied orc.

A co-worker insisted on giving me her number today; she coincidentally got off the same time I did...

Fri, 02 Nov 2012 23:26:39 -0400

A co-worker insisted on giving me her number today; she coincidentally got off the same time I did (which is when this occurred). I didn’t have the nerve to outright say I didn’t want her number, so I pulled out my phone and saved her number until she left - in which I then deleted it.

Ironically enough, the one girl who I would actually like to talk to more walked by right when the girl who’s number I didn’t want was giving me her number, which surely gave her (the girl who I would actually like to talk to) a false impression. I could only smile and shake my head at the probabilities, and the statistical anomaly that occurred.

And if it’s whom, then none shall pass,At least that’s what she said, As a ribbon...

Wed, 31 Oct 2012 00:46:00 -0400

And if it’s whom, then none shall pass,
At least that’s what she said,
As a ribbon chaser, I perched one step and saw my stance was left wide open.
One pillar to the moon, built upon the harvest,
But one foggy mirror means the village is left starving.
But I know how the vein go,
Look to the summit, but my high noon lasted about one minute til the storm fashioned my rain coat.
Knee deep, puzzling,
I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying,
My empty flask speaks volumes, and yet these words are on the brink of meaning nothing.
As for a sweltering heartbreak, just keep in mind the timing I can afford,
I’ve got burdens to bear, and a picture twice for every word.
Please forgive me, my frequency seems to be too loud to hear,
I guess I’ll tip the wine glass once more for the deaf ears to open up a little more clearly.
A feeding frenzy, narrated by burning books,
On lingering ocean bottoms where the young dwell with anchors disguised as hooks,
And if you’re not going to eat that, killjoy,
Let me properly re-introduce myself,
I’m the soldier who sampled his handsome death for an anti-diligence movement.

All I’ve got is a heavy heart, and wooden stake stuck straight through me,Perched under a...

Mon, 22 Oct 2012 23:46:32 -0400

All I’ve got is a heavy heart, and wooden stake stuck straight through me,
Perched under a beating sun, and yet my blood is still damn near freezing.
A sticky silence, humbled by straw-men wielding stones and sticks,
Fashioned by legacy warlords and subsidiary stigmatics.
I’ve got the world on a string? Nah, it’s just my head set with split ends,
I’d call them loose, but this noose just keeps getting tighter around my neck.
You’ve got troubled thoughts friend, and I’m not sure what to make of it,
I’ve got the summit on stilts to try and make up for my deficits,
But it’s not enough, it’s never enough,
You’ll see what you want to see -
So far every cause was lost,
Just to remind yourself that we were once buried.

Steam vents

Wed, 17 Oct 2012 01:17:00 -0400

I am not a practical person.
I filter and analyze every thought and action, for the sake of competence.
I’m not entirely sure what it means to be compassionate.
Thanks to my job, I’m becoming even more of a social chameleon than I already was.
It bothers me to some extent that the facade I put on is not genuine, but at the same time I find that it’s truly my only means of a manageable existence (politically speaking).
Most of the time, I sound like a pretentious cock.
I’m probably going to die alone, and that’s okay.
Every day I wake up, I question whether if today is the day I build up the nerve to just leave and start from scratch - new state, new people, new surroundings. And every day I wake up, I find that I can’t, and probably never will… And that makes me quite sad.
Often times my initial interest to learn about someone is mistaken for a more relative interest, like that of a romantic nature. That’s rather annoying.
I’ve had a crush on the same girl since my Junior year in high school. I’m not sure what that says about me - either I’m a creep, or I just can’t get over things.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to read this post again sometime tomorrow, over analyze everything I said, and probably delete it.
I’m not entirely sure what this was supposed to accomplish.
MBTI has really helped me better understand myself, as well as other people. Despite the fact that it’s technically a pseudo-science, the patterns it describes are fascinating. I can’t help by try to type every person I meet, even if it only be for a few seconds. It’s my guilty pleasure.
I miss my friends.

I came about in the most peculiar of places, Meandering through the murky wood, staggering, seeing...

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 21:53:00 -0400

I came about in the most peculiar of places,
Meandering through the murky wood, staggering, seeing many faces,
Where upon the mist, I found myself,
Burning at wits end,
He stood awkwardly sturdy, yet among the trees he seemed weightless.
“What is it?” He asked, “what mistook you?”
I’ve navigated the darkest yawning wood yet these eyes miss the most obvious of hues.
“Is there a love such as that which a fault will pose for your practice?
Or perhaps the dreams of man, a requiem for a closed casket?
You see, I yearn for a love that has yet to be received,
My heart is cold, as many have sunken beneath its sundering beat.
This is place shares the same; it’s chilled with subtle wavelengths,
Stumbling back and forth through my seemingly abysmal mental landscape.”

Television (revised)

Thu, 20 Sep 2012 00:18:00 -0400

Okay, let’s sit and watch the dawn of new bitter aspects,
I’ve got a scepter in hand so the jackals can’t bother with waiting, que the news and infotainment fucking flash steps,
12 more, accompanied by a smorgasbord of good men,
Prospects setting sail across setting sun badlands.
It’s a good one,
Believe me, I’ve seen it,
I lost my nerve long time ago, but now I’m thinking clearly enough to feel it.
Trust me I know that sob story,
I’m on shoe string budget,
I can’t tilt the bucket full loose ends, I’m no culprit.
But we know every man has is day,
Someday.
Okay you’ve convinced me, I’ll attend your open letter ritual,
Just like the ol’saying goes, same window, different visual -
And it’s so serene,
I’ll risk it all for a shiny sword, new coat, dollar, and a dream.
Solute the embrace, the warhorse can’t stumble much longer,
They told me it was my duty to be a soldier.
So here’s my letter, it’s fascinating.
Above me, substance yet to sentence,
A man purposely covers one eye to miss half of the premise,
And so we dream - Just a little more.
It ain’t no easy pickens, but the train I’m riding has me set til my dignity itches,
Heavy heaving, my breath’s too dense to fold beneath the red wake,
Weaving all my hard earned time down the fucking drain.
Well, I guess I’m done believing,
There’s no dream to live with my halo running low on helium,
I’m no more than the dim life that lit my monitor,
Prop me up another as a parody of my character.
It’s all worth while,
It’s all there, I promise,
Another dollar here and there, I swear I’ll have the bulb lit. (someday)
Now, I ain’t gonna go off and say I’m to blame,
But the cat’s meow is just too nice to look away, I swear,
Pardon me while I commence the family function,
I haven’t touched a soul in years, but the kids seem to love it.

I’m constantly in a state of ambivalence, always neutral, always observant. I can’t help...

Thu, 13 Sep 2012 01:01:00 -0400

I’m constantly in a state of ambivalence, always neutral, always observant. I can’t help but feel like I’ve been tricked into all this, by my own thoughts and conceptual understandings. It’s all so fucking frustrating, especially when I have the over whelming urge to write or express myself in some fashion. I have these intentions of writing such profound thoughts and observations, yet each time I go to write them all down, my hand freezes right as it touches the paper. Whether it be anxiety, or lacking competence, perhaps even both - I struggle to produce anything whatsoever. I am not capable of partaking in conviction, or campaigning for higher purpose; I will merely deconstruct any and/or all ‘feeling’ to be had with it, to the point where it no longer can be considered such.

I’ve always found it interesting that I can be so observant and self-aware of my being and actions, yet I can do very little to stop them. Detached? Surely, sprinkle some ‘2nd person narrative’ in there, and that’s how I perceive myself in a nutshell. Not to sound like a pretentious cock or anything.

Music has a great influence on my realm of thought, as does with most people I would assume… Perhaps I’ve been listening to too much Insomnium? With their poetic, yet dark and relatively sorrowful lyrics it’s easy to see why I’ve been so down on myself. Wait, is there such a thing as too much Insomnium?

Nah.

PS. I know the INTP tag is a bit over saturated, but bear with me here.

PSS. I had initially intended on writing a short story tonight, but that didn’t go so well as you can see. This blog is a direct result of my frustrations with that short story.

Probably the most compelling piece of escapism that will exist...

Sun, 09 Sep 2012 23:32:52 -0400

Probably the most compelling piece of escapism that will exist in our time.

Love; perhaps the richest of morsels our ego can fathom. It dwells within all of us, presupposing of...

Sun, 19 Aug 2012 22:38:00 -0400

Love; perhaps the richest of morsels our ego can fathom. It dwells within all of us, presupposing of its truths and morals, casting the purest of light into the unknown. But of course we must speak with such vague intent; a man knows not what love is, he merely knows of inspiration. All he needs then is to figure the reasons why.

This.

Sat, 18 Aug 2012 02:23:00 -0400

This.

Me vs INTP stereotypes

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 20:59:00 -0400

Having done a bit of reading on MBTI, I’ve come across a good number of stereotypes that INTP’s are infamous for. Since I have a considerable interest on the subject, I felt the need to compare and contrast for the sake of clarity… and possibly some self-deprecation.

40 living at home in their parents basement.
Well, I’m not 40 yet, and my father doesn’t have a basement. So ha!

Socially deprived
To an extent, sure, though I would argue that ‘deprived’ isn’t necessarily the most suitable term, given that it could possibly suggest there is nothing to gain from my reclusive nature.

Game Addicts
I prefer “enthusiast,” but if it can’t be helped…

Atheist
Strictly speaking, yes, but considering the absurdity of the word itself, I typically vibrate towards ignosticism when partaking in a social circumstance.

Geniuses
Well, I mean… you know…

Anti social
‘Anti’ implies a conscious acknowledgement or understanding of their condition, as well as a lack of consideration for their surroundings (and possibly empathy). I would argue that there is more of an asocial tendency here. Perhaps it’s merely a play on words, in which I would be inclined to grant you, but if I were to dabble with the semantics of it all for just a moment: An anti-social person has the intention of being so, as opposed to an asocial person who is merely acting on dispositionalism. This is not to say asocial tendencies can not develop into anti-social ones, but chances are it would be unintentional. If a person’s means of self-reflection were based entirely on the negation of social aspects, existentially speaking, anti-social behavior would be likely to be accepted by that individual. Perhaps a meaningless dichotomy, but one I felt was worth mentioning.

Perverts
OKAY YOU CAUGHT ME.

Nerds
I utterly despise those who self identify as a ‘nerd’ or ‘geek.’ As if it was something to flaunt or be recognized for, a sense of entitlement perhaps? It’s just as bad as the people who feel the need to tell other people that they don’t care what others think, or giving yourself your own nickname, or even worse those who manage the indecency to talk about how modest they are. Don’t do it kids, you’re better than that. But if I had to confirm or deny such an accusation, I certainly could not deny it.

Computer experts
Actually, no, I know very little. In comparison to my father (or anyone who doesn’t understand modern technology) I may seem somewhat knowledgeable, but in any other circumstance I may as well start drooling on myself.

Schizoid
I’m not going to for one second pretend like I know enough about psychology to speak of such matters. While the symptoms characterized by SPD are familiar to me, in no way am I going to conclude it’s prevalent in my being.

“While I was still in the US Air Force, I started losing sleep, until I was only able to sleep...

Thu, 09 Aug 2012 14:05:24 -0400

“While I was still in the US Air Force, I started losing sleep, until I was only able to sleep maybe 2 hours a night. My doctor ordered all kinds of blood tests, and he sent me to Hawaii for a sleep study to see if I had sleep apnea. He sent me 2 weeks early for a one night sleep study, so I took the opportunity to see the sights on Oahu.

I was staying at a hotel near the airport. It had a good sized pool and a decent bar, so I decided to lay out by the pool for the first few days until I got used to the time zone difference. Several hours into my poolside lounging, a really attractive woman about my age sat down on the lounge chair next to mine. Her name was Gina, and she asked if I could put some suntan lotion on her back. I agreed, and we started talking about the usual things (what brought us to Hawaii, our jobs, etc.) After we had been chatting for a few hours, she invited me on a bus tour of the island. She said she had purchased a ticket for a friend, but the friend had decided to go to the Waikiki beach with a guy she had met the night before.

So we went on the bus tour. It took us around the perimeter of the island, stopping at points of interest. It was a pretty standard tour, but Hawaii has some beautiful scenery. One of the last stops was at a seafood stand for a lunch break. Gina and I both got some sort of shrimp pasta, and it was delicious.

About an hour later, the bus tour ended and they deposited us at our hotel. Gina and I decided to go get some drinks at the bar and have them sent to my room so we could “watch TV”.

So as we got to my room, I notice that I didn’t have a couch, so I said that we would have to use my bed. As the words were leaving my lips, she got a pained look on her face, said that she’d be right back, and ran from the room.

I was kicking myself for blowing it. I couldn’t put my finger on what I had done or said that would cause her to flee in such a manner, but I knew it had to be something. Maybe my bed line wasn’t as smooth as I had thought.

Then it hit me. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. All the food I had eaten in the last 24 hours rushed to my bowels. I booked it for the bathroom. I knew I had only a few seconds before I shit myself.

As I was about to unzip my pants, there was a furious banging at my door and Gina started screaming, “Let me in! Let me in!!!!!!!”.

Thinking that she was being chased by a rapist or something, I rushed to the door, trying desperately not to shit my pants. I opened the door and Gina rushed in, ran right into my bathroom, and locked the door.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I kicked open the door (the door frame was cheap wood and it buckled like a house of cards).

Gina was sitting on the toilet screaming at me to get out. As I took off my pants, I told her that she was either going to move forward so we could sit back to back, or that I was going to sit in her lap and shit all over her, but either way, it was going to happen in the next 10 seconds. She scooted forward, and we sat back to back, each of us having pretty explosive diarrhea.

Do you know the feeling you get when you know you are going to vomit soon? I started feeling that feeling. I looked around for something to puke in. All I could find within arms’ reach was a trash can. I hadn’t used it yet, so it was empty. I picked it up and put it in my lap.

A few seconds later, Gina said, “I’m going to throw up!!”.

I told her to turn around and face me. I turned around as well. So we sat there, face to face, having explosive diarrhea and taking turns vomiting into a trash can.

After it was over, she left my room. I never saw her again.”

Quite honestly, that has to be the most fucked up version of perfection… ever. I would have married that woman, without a modicom of doubt. The chances of sharing such a profound, revealing moment as this with another human being is astronomically minimal. After that, nothing would be sacred, everything would be honest and open - how a relationship should be. Besides, imagine how enthused you’d be to answer the inevitable ‘how’d you two meet’ questions from family and friends. Absolutely brilliant.

An acorn in itself lacks nothing, it simply is what it is. But if we are to understand it as a...

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 21:40:38 -0400

An acorn in itself lacks nothing, it simply is what it is. But if we are to understand it as a potential oak tree, it must be judged in terms of the oak tree that is presently lacking (is yet to be). The meaning of the acorn is based on the non-being of the oak tree, in which the acorn presently lacks. The acorn in itself does not lack the oak tree, the acorn lacks the oak tree only for a consciousness that is capable of projecting forward in time, towards the non-being of the oak tree. It’s the non-being of the oak tree that gives an acorn its meaning for consciousness, the acorn is understood as what it is by virtue of what it lacks.

Perhaps, the most difficult truth to face is that there will always be something lacking - boredom, dissatisfaction; always waiting for a current problem to become a thing of the past. You will always be looking for some kind of future fulfillment, always striving for more. That is simply the nature of consciousness, so it would seem.

A person will always lack the future in which they are constantly heading. The future which gives a person meaning to their present state and actions, as well as beyond them, which they hope (in vain) to be fulfilled. Onward into the endless march in time they go, towards a future that is presently lacking - yet, a future that will fall into the past as soon as it is reached. It could be said that this endless march cheats us of who we are, what we aim to achieve. But in all honesty, I feel that is exactly what and/or who we are - an endless march in time.

A list of speculative inquiry assessing some personality typology, because I have too much time on...

Sat, 04 Aug 2012 01:22:00 -0400

A list of speculative inquiry assessing some personality typology, because I have too much time on my hands. By no means am I an authority on the subject, I’ve merely just begun to dabble with its secrets, but thanks to the internet I can play psychologist! Even if it be on the most rudimentary of levels…

Myself - INTP
Ryan - INFP
Leondro - ISTJ
Shae - ISTP
David - ESTJ
Randall - INTJ
Amanda (red) - ISFP
Taline - ISFJ
Christopher (AIP) - ESFP
Matt (AIP) - ISFP
Dom (AIP) - ESTP
My father - ESFJ
My sister - ESFJ
My mother - INFP

So, what do you think? Am I close?