Incite Full

The god damn cat will be the death of me. Did I leave the nature channel on at the house accidentally? Where is he learning to act more lion than kitten? This is Puss ‘n Boots without those cute eyes, if Lassie turned on Timmy, it’d be exactly like this. Oh goodness!

I wake up to pain, nowadays. The cat still claws my feet, eats my toes, and now has some weird obsession with my knees. Seriously, my knees? So I do my normal move- throwing the cat out of the room and closing the doors. Now, if you’ve never seen Jurassic Park, leave now. You were obviously never a child.

Robespierre, like the velociraptors in the original, has learned to open my goddamn door. He is now the most terrifying beast I’ve ever dealt with. Screw killer clowns from outer space, go to hell Jason Vorhees. I swear to god, after i learned this fact, I couldn’t sleep. I was just watching the door handle, slowly shifting. Then all of a sudden the door opens with all the cat’s weight. 3 seconds later the cat is nuzzling my face, cute right? No.

This is the calm before the storm. My toes are already curled, wrapped in the blanket in a cold sweating anxiety. The state is coming back to me as I type this. Oh man.

“Don’t sweat the small stuff, and it’s all small stuff”

I woke up this morning with a girl’s name written on my hand in green, permanent marker. “Happy birthday,” I say as a smile creeps across my face. No, it wasn’t my birthday. But i’ll use any excuse to go out and have a bit of fun, and besides, Brian’s been dealing with a lot of stuff lately so i decided to make sure he wasn’t preoccupied on his day of days. Even if this means I get bitten later. Bite it.

The past few days have been very interesting and memorable. I cannot stress the memorable part enough, whether that’s good or bad has yet to be determined, but let’s just say that in the past 4 days i’ve crossed something off my “list,” even if it was the worst thing ever, ran into the ocean in my boxers (alone), silently screamed at a douche bag, and watched a friend get destroyed by shots. I also might have “stolen” the girl who’s name appeared on my hand, but you know what? I don’t know what to say about that.

I want to discuss my silent screaming for a bit, and by all means tell me if i should have done something different. I’m having lunch the other day with a bunch of people and ask them what they did over the long weekend. The only one who answers, and he loves the sound of his voice, says “I war reading in preparation for this master’s class I’ll probably get into.”

“DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUCHE!” races through my mind, about as loud as a formula 1 car. What the hell does that even mean? Obviously he’s bragging about his master’s class. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what the class was or where it is located, because i just didn’t care by this point. But honestly, why do people do this? I’ve got a lot of shit going for me, but i don’t need to say it for people to know it. Just be yourself, fucktard, and we’ll get to you and your awesome reading skills.

This guy is married, too. I don’t understand how this man exists, let alone how there also exists a woman to (presumably) love him.

The evening was much better, with Dan and Brian. Brian, once again, beat me in foosball. But I don’t mind- it’s a team game and this one on one stuff generally is more luck than skill. After that we sat down with a group of girls that we saw from the foosball tables. It became pretty apparent that Dan and I were strong with game that night. One of the girls left with a coworker to the bar, leaving two girls, one who had a boyfriend, and the other who was here from New York. She was definitely cute, and I think Dan felt so as well, as he was “working” on her.

It’s pretty cool to see Dan work, he’s got a lot of confidence and no regret- integral to meeting new women. I feel like he’s better at it than I am, to be honest, but i’m not exactly trash here. Depsite Dan feeling it, I was a machine. I noticed her peacock feather earrings, and we talked about them for a while, then her celtic green nail polish, which she said guys never noticed, and we talked about what she does, what i do, and how we were both destined for so much more than the mundane in and out of everyday life. She’s a photographer from NY, and i was pretty smitten with the idea of that, so i went for it.

I think it was the first time i ever calmly looked at a person and asked them out, and they said yes. The only other time i tried it so directly was in high school, and the girl said “are you serious?” That’s kind of a game killer, let me tell you.

I feel pretty good right now. Hopefully that translates well in softball tonight, then cleaning the dishes and onto top Chef sans dale

“Anyone can get old, you just have to live long enough”

I just spent that last hour and a half writing a description of a candle. It, at first, seemed like a silly exercise. And i kind of wanted to say that. But then i got an idea- Why not write my description of the candle in such a way that i can get that point across? So i give you, Candle:

I would say it’s orange, but that’s not what Ikea would call it. Sunflower? Citrus Salmon? It’s the last candle you use in a power outage- the kind of candle (an entire bag full, no less) a man gets for his first apartment, striving for class and warmth. Lighting the candle, my nose reels from the sulfur in the match. It’s been so long since I used one. But no Sunflower or Citrus Salmon flavor saves me. Small at first and staying that way, the flame is bored. Standing around like a teenager next to a wall, uncomfortably shifting positions from time to time. I get closer to the candle, the kind of close that would unnerve a mother- a yawn here would put out the flame. But I’ll wait for the small pool of wax now formed to do the job for me. The warmth I feel on my nose is slight- the kind you’d get from your girlfriend or boyfriend breathing on the back of your neck while you sleep. But it’s enough to make me notice my hands are cold. Soon, the wick will be blackened and cold, but for now the end of the wick is a burning ember- bright orange, even Ikea can’t argue with that.

A lot of other’s in the class took the assignment differently. I was frustrated with all those who used the “dancing” metaphor, especially when we were asked not to. Directly. And most people fused the description with so much more. Most people used it as a memory, something small to talk about something big. Another guy went way out there and talked about the futility of life and how it’ll extinguish itself. It’s just a candle, man. You’ve got to make it important first.

I also am noticing my writing is a lot different from others. I don’t use big words, or try and flex my vocabulary muscle very often. It’s fun at times, but i like curt and brutal words. Don’t sugar coat it, just smash my face in it and move on. Other people in the class, for better or for worse, need the perfect word and cliche the hell out of things. see: dancing flames, relating candle flame to life. It’s frustrating that all of these people respond with “Amazing writing!” and praise for things that, while written well, rehash everything that’s been said about a candle before.

“The best thing about getting old is that it doesn’t last that long”

Once and a while i stumble upon a gem of a quote- something that isn’t famous, just something someone actually said. And this one is a keeper. No, not because it’s inspiring, or great, or evil- it’s jsut so easily contradicted.

the quote said was “If you’re amazing in the eyes of one person, well, that’s really all that matters.” Oh really? Because i think there is more to life than one person’s opinion. Well, that could be taken wrong. what if that one person is God? I guess I mean there is more than any one person’s opinion. Even God’s, although you’d probably want to listen to him a bit more than some others, like, the person who said the above quote.

Here are a list of easy contradictions:

Stalkers often think their victim is amazing. Does this make them feel better? Is that all that really matters?
Parents: If your children love you, is that all that really matters? Are you going to be the hip mom wearing velour and giving away drinks to get that love?
I’m sure Eve Braun thought her man was amazing. Do you agree?

“It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”