revelation's Blog

Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 5.0
Date: Feb 14th, 2007 8:25:33 am - Subscribe
Mood: lovesick
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and Wednesdays better than Valentines.

We are back again and today I am way too early for work. But its all good because I got some sleep last night. I went to bed at 10:00pm. Today is of course Valentines Day...or Wednesday. I prefer Wednesday. But eh whatever you want to call it. Today has been ok thus far...except for the elevator ride to the fourth floor.......

I was the first of 3 people to enter the elevator. And then we end up having to hold the door for 3 more people. 5 of 6 people were going to the 4th floor. The last person we held the door for was going to the 2nd floor. I hate that shit. Its one fucking flight of stairs! You already walked one just to get to the elevator! Damn, Americans. One more flight of stairs and thats it! We complain about other countries saying we are fat, lazy, slobs, etc... why do we give them reason to think that? Do not get upset when people say that if your one of the people giving them reason to say that. 1 flight of stairs. Man. Ok I have that off my chest.

It's weird. You show up early to work and people give you a hard time because your not late. You show up late to work because you always show up late and people give you a hard time. Its a vicious cycle. I also enjoy the ones that team up on you. Like frank sinatra and dean martin. You got the one with all the jokes and then you got the one that laughs and just repeats the same thing over and over again. It brings me humor.

Everybody is a comedian these days. Everyones got their jokes. It's great. Humor is over-exploited these days. Theres a difference between smiling and laughing, and having jokes. But everyone is a comedian these days. So back to valentines day. The one day of the year where any guy thats in the dog house can redeem himself. The good news is, when you don't officially celebrate V-day for 21 years... you don't have to get out of a dog house. I have this odd feeling every call I take at work today will end in "Happy valentines day." Thats going to get old fast. So I think I will respond with "Happy Wednesday!" I like that more.

I'm not taking cracks at anyone who is celebrating this day of days today. Call me just ill or bitter because I am not. No wait I am not upset about not celebrating this day. I just happen to like wednesdays more than valentines day. I'm dressed in proper wednesday celebration attire. A Black shirt... Some people think just because its valentines you should wear something pink, red, white, etc. Me and my celebration of wednesdays believes it should be a black long sleeve shirt.

It's funny though. Some guys go out of their way to show how much they love their significant other. Then you hear the other guys who do things on valentines day just because if they don't their significant other will fuss. Thats classic. On happy wednesdays you do what you want to do and hope everyone else is happy about it. On valentines day its just not that way. Love... gotta show an extra amount on this day. Or if you do it just right for the other 364 days of the year you can just show your normal amount of love with just a tad bit more on today. That's just me.

Valentines day should be any day you want. This is the one day where your significant other knows something special will or will not happen. Theres no surprise factor. Pick another day like April the 7th. No holidays there. Make that day valentines... she will like that alot more I assure you. I could be wrong. I am male and haven't celebrated happy v-day in 21 years, so the likely hood of me being wrong is very high. Ladies this goes for you though. If your guy geniunely tries to do something romantic for v-day... don't knock it. We try hard sometimes and it goes unnoticed. And guys don't do something to give them reason to knock it. McDonalds is not appropriate for today. Tomorrow or yesterday... sure mcdonalds is wonderful. Today for happy wednesday... no. Thats my 2 Hershey Kisses on this subject.

Happy Valen..ergh Wednesday!

See ya in the stars...
-=The Radical Dreamer=-
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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 4.0
Date: Feb 13th, 2007 2:33:32 pm - Subscribe
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and exhaustion.

And the kid is back again. Today I don't have the adrenaline rush I had yesterday. The adrenaline rush actually carried over till about 2:30a.m. last night, so I am running off very little sleep lol. Today has been great though. I did some drawing last night as you can tell by my default picture. I have an idea for the book I am planning to write at some point.

I went bowling last night and had a blast. I went with my sister and she was going with people she works on the weekend with... I knew a few of them but not too many of them. It was .25 a game + a 6.00 cover charge. Today I haven't done too much besides work, and doze off a bit in my chair.

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. I know I know. Thats scary as hell. Justin isn't allowed to think. But wait this has been all positive thinking. Positive thinking... I like the sound of that. I am excited. One more day and I'm heading to the beach. So if you don't receive any blogs during that time... you know why. Though I will probably still get one up every day, maybe. No promises.

I am pondering what bag of candy I want to get out of my candy drawer here at work. Work... I should be doing more of it right now. But there is no work to be done. I came back from lunch and hit the call queue hard. 4 calls in a row without one hitting the bin. Right now I am listening to The Faint... and a discussion about smoking being the worst thing anyone can do.

I beg to differ. After a stint of heavy drinking... I think we all know what the worst thing one person can do is. And that my friend is heavy consumption of mountain dew before bed. If one was to drink 2 24 oz mountain dews before bed... they would be jacked up through the roof. We all know this. I have never once heard someone say "I drink large amounts of mountain dew to calm my nerves". I hear it with cigs "I smoke because it calms my nerves. Gives me focus." I hear I drink alcohol because it relaxes me. I have never once heard those lines with mountain dew.

Mountain Dew makes me feel good about my self-esteem. Thats classic. I might start using that. The problem is that drug tests don't test for mountain dew. Could you see it now? Barry Bonds is stripped of a homerun record... not because he is hyped on steroid candy but because he has been downing mountain dew for years. His family would disown him.

It sounds sick but I think Anna Nicole might have had a Mountain Dew overdose. Sometimes it happens. Forget the fact that Botox was being injected into her forehead every other day. We don't know the long term effects of that stuff. But lets blame mountain dew. Because its the more obvious thing to blame.

What if Michael Vick had decided to carry his weed in a mountain dew container instead of a water bottle? Exactly.

I took a call earlier today and I was pretty much dozed off but somehow I managed to get a system up that was down. I don't remember much of what I did but I did what was necessarily because he was happy. And I was happy he was off the phone. Life is funny like that. 2 People can be happy at the same time when talking to each other but for 2 different reasons. Like sometimes I am on the phone and I get happy because I realize I am not ignorant and this person is happy because their computer is fixed.

Sometimes you get happy because you think your telling a hilarious joke. But really I am happy because I am thinking about something that makes me happy. You will never know. Just don't give me a pop quiz afterwards. I have 12 windows open on my computer. I have no use for at least a third of them. I think I use them because they abbreviate the other windows titles. So my supervisors can't see what websites I am on.

I discovered something interesting the other day. My right hand. My hand I am dominant with. The one I draw with, the one I right with. The one hold my drink with. Yea the right one. Has developed trembles every so often. I know its a result of where I was not too long ago. It doesn't happen all the time but it has its moments. It doesn't shake when I do anything like drawing and what not. Only when I hold it out sometimes. Its genetics as well... My mom and my grandma have the same thing.

Plus I am a fidgety person. I try hard to sit still but I find I can not. I keep my hands constantly touching something. Anything. I catch my leg bouncing at accelerated rates at times. When I am working on calls at work, I have to keep busy. Just sitting and talking makes my concentration drop. I found I hold better concentration when I am doing things. Some people are reverse. They concentrate better when they are just sitting, staring, and talking. Me? No. I need paper, a pen, a drink cap, whatever as long as you can play with it.

I would probably be a lot better employee if they would put me in a room with a phone, a stereo, a dart board, a hands free phone, and various other things. Mmmm. Music. I have changed out to Foo Fighters "The Colour and the Shape" now. My eyes are really heavy at the moment. I'm sleepy from the adrenaline loss today and the low amount of sleep. I know this much. And the fact I can't blare my music. I wouldn't be too bad off if I could kick my feet up on my desk... Management wouldn't like that. Anyways. Not much an adventure today. Hey every adventurer has to have a small break every now and again.

See ya in the stars...
-=The Radical Dreamer=-

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Pictures of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 1.0
Date: Feb 12th, 2007 8:14:52 pm - Subscribe
Mood: helpless
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and pictures!!!


This was requested by Straz. This is fluffy. I am planning to write a series on him and his perils in hell. It will have some comdey, action, and a big fucking cat with an even bigger fucking Scythe!
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Rage of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 1
Date: Feb 12th, 2007 6:36:50 pm - Subscribe
Mood: invincible
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and Hell's fire and brimstone will bring justice.

Ok this one isn't going to be nice. Its flame war time. Fuck ammo. I'm bringing weapons of mass destruction. The war on Iraq should be the war on Justin right now. And I can't remember the last time I was pissed...I mean PISSSSSSSED. At least since the dark times. I don't recall how awesome an adrenaline rush it is. But its on and I am feeling awesome. Anger has been an aggressive feeling I couldn't grasp while I was in the dump. It's going to be liberating writing this one.

One thing should say it all: FUCK YOU! I really don't know where to begin on this one. I have a cell phone bill that got a little pricey for my taste and I know why. I got a text message bill that got a little pricey. I upped my plan to avoid that in the future. Why? To talk to you. You get mad at one little thing I did. Yet I let all the little things you did to me slide. Slide right on up under the bridge. Yea I'm like that. I let little things slide, you apparently don't. You hold grudges.

I do remember someone telling me they don't Mind Fuck people. Haha that brings me a smile. I shoulda called that one on target right then. Because we both know you do. You probably did it worse than anyone I ever knew. "Kidney Stones". I learned a lot about them when you "had one". I know people. They tell me things. They have had them. They speak truth to me. You do not. The night you raked me over the coals. The day I went to atlanta and you fussed at me for drinking energy drinks. I said nothing spiteful to you. Should I have? No. I don't generally say spiteful things or end a friendship over shit like that.

You say I flipped out after not hearing from you for 2 days. You bet. We talked every day for an entire month, and I don't hear something from you in 2 days??? What do you expect me to do? Thats not flipping out dear, thats the human emotion of worry and care. So fuck that. Thats a god damned excuse and a lousy one at that. I apologized... Why? You tell me, wait you cant. Why? Because I did nothing wrong. Ask any other guy in this situation. Someone they care about they will check in on after 2 days.

Yet you called me crazy, psycho, etc. Thats funny shit. I felt bad for a few days, got to wonder the next days after that, cleared my fucking mind on friday, and monday I still have no word. So I know for a fact now you just needed an excuse. You tell me the day I find out your done with your "Kidney Stone" that you have nothing to say to me. Then a few days later you show me a picture of "your" car burning. Wow even better. Shit just builds. And I'm the crazy one.

You do realize you called me crazy because I flipped out over someone I had never met. You do realize that saturday before that we were discussing children names and what not. Wow you are crazier than I my friend. You tell me give it time? Give what time? Me waiting around for you to call? Fuck that. I don't sit around and wait for anyone to call unless I'm waiting for someone to say "We are leaving right now to go to wild wings." Then I know its time for me to leave. Thats the only phone call waiting I do. You talked about joining me (a guy you never met in real life) on my birthday road trip. Yet I'm the crazy one.

You truly are worse off than me. I see this now. The times I talked about us meeting you were always so quick to try to stop me from coming that way. I'm not stupid. I know somethings up when I am getting told you would rather come this way. Thats ridiculous. And your always broke. The jokes don't stop. You went to Key West for a weekend (though you say people bought you everything. Sure I could slightly believe that). Then you tell me the next week that you don't want me to come down because your broke. Suddenly friday night your going to Ft. Lauderdale. And you have this "Massive" panic attack. I guess I wasn't supposed to worry then either.

Then saturday morning you call me and your going shopping in Miami. WOW! This story is just convoluted. Your broke but your going shopping in Miami. This is by far the greatest story ever. Yet you don't Mind fuck people. You are silly. Or wait maybe your Fucking crazy? I think thats it. I worked my ass off to get 2 days off this week to come see you. Boy was that something fucked up I did. Now I can't take the two days back on because my supervisor would get chewed out for that. Not to mention they wouldn't let me request days off after that stunt.

So I'm taking my happy little ass down to Myrtle Beach to have some fun. Meanwhile you can move on and hopefully mind fuck the next person that comes along.

-Wow I am enjoying this way too much-

I made several attempts to right whatever wrong I did. But you didn't accept. I get the hint. Your a person who holds grudges...or is a chronic liar one. I think its both. You taught me one good lesson in all this. Actions are louder than words. Or maybe its don't give people the benefit of the doubt. I felt hurt when you said you had nothing to say to me. Calling me crazy didn't hurt me one bit. I have been called that by many a people. And I damn well might be. But you are FUCKING PSYCHO.

I knew all too well you were too good to be true. You said you were "real" and the "genuine" thing. Yea your real and genuine just like half of the other people I met in this world. I'm kinda glad I didn't call you back when you lived in Georgia. But then again I should have... and I would have known you were crazy a year ago. Thats my fault there. The rest of this is definitely not. The times your phone got "dropped" in water. Thats funny too.

This could go on and on. But I think the rage is subsiding. I have like the adrenaline in my veins to go chop a god damned forest down by myself. It's unreal but I know I could do it. Thanks for the valuable lessons in life about whatever it was you stand for. Obviously its not much. And I'm glad I got this off my chest. I feel much more free now. Like I was free but now I am like wide open to the destination known as recovery. Oh and one more thing. Smoking pot while you have a child. Thats a FUCKING DISGRACE. No matter if they are there or not. Thats just a sick sad thing. I hope you read this and I hope you get so mad you want to kill me. I hope you laugh and say I'm crazy. I hope you delete me from myspace (thats lame but funny to some). I could care less what you do.

But we both know this situation was total bullshit. You mind fucked me, don't deny it. You lied. You are psycho. You said you didn't need that shit in your life. I think you have it wrong dear. It is "I" who don't NEED your SHIT in my life. I got a good laugh when I seen my calls for last month on my cell bill. Cocoa, FL god knows how many times, for how many minutes. Hey theres one thing that wasn't a lie! You do live in Cocoa, FL! Go you! As for everything else... I don't know if that was true or not. I personally don't give a Fuck if it was or not.

Well now... I feel very liberated at this time. Going to find a way to reduce this adrenaline level I just got. Such a good feeling in my body right now. I need some angry music... Maybe some DMX. I got this feeling my faithful readers will enjoy this one. I think they like to see me vent. Especially offer this type of shit. So to you my dear i say this, "FUCK YOU and all you stood for, stand for, will stand for. And everything you said, did, wanted to do, will do, dream of doing. Fuck it all!". Oh and by the way. "Have a good day! And I hope you have a good lie..ergh life, and laugh at this". I am. =).

See ya in the stars...
-=The Radical Dreamer=- or the Mad Hatter. I like that one too.
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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 3.5
Date: Feb 12th, 2007 4:59:18 pm - Subscribe
Mood: captivated
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and figures of speech that are useless.

So I am still at work but I had a moment of indulgence into the world of "figures of speech". The one in particular is "I don't give a...". This figure of speech can end with Damn, rats ass, shit, fuck, dime, or my all time favorite... "flying burning rats ass". What exactly does this figure of speech mean???

Because by all means, If you do give a... I want it. Like if I do something you care about. I want a damn, a rats ass, a shit, a fuck, a dime, or if I'm really lucky I would love to have a flying burning rats ass. Speaking of which...

Do you actually need to carry those? I could see it now. Your walking down the street some guy asks you a profound question and you respond with. I do give a rats ass. I would then have to proceed to reach into my back pocket and withdraw a rat's ass. Next I would hand it to him to prove how much I cared. If the world was not based on figures of speech, things would be somewhat exciting. Me personally would wait till someone says something to me. and I would follow it up with me pulling out a rat's ass, some lighter fluid, a slingshot (potato cannon, rpg launcher, anything that can make things fly), and a lighter. I would then say "I give a flying burning rat's ass" *pour the fluid on the rat's ass, light said rats ass, and then deposit it into the launcher... and shoot it way up in the sky*.

Could you imagine the look of surprise on that person's face when all the events conspire into one main event? People would laugh, some would cry, some would be sick, others would say "What the fuck just happened?".

Lets not forget the "I'll be a monkey's uncle." That's bullshit *points at the stuff beside his buddies cube*. What if that monkey doesnt' want you as an uncle? What if said monkey that you are trying to be the uncle of is smarter than you? Could you then be "a monkey's retarded uncle?". One really needs to be careful with their figures of speech these days.

Anyway I am at work. With the wolrd of ignorance blaring through my phone headset. Meanwhile my supervisor is typing some interesting messages to me on the IM. Meanwhile I'm throwing this lady on mute and whispering to myself but yelling it through the corners of my mind "Lady turn the fucking pc on with the power button! No don't put the mouse on the screen and click! Holy Shit Christ." Then Jacob nails me with a hells fury of paper balls. We are so all going to get fired... Wait no. We have like 6 cms guys and 7 crx workers... They can't fire us all.

I just know its 4:50 and as long as my phone doesn't ring in the next 9 minutes I get to go home on time. And I'll be damned if I didn't get a call at that very moment of typing on time. But its a call I can't take because Hardware needs to take it. If I time this transfer just right... this will be my last call and I can dump it into Hardwares bin. Some days you wish they would invite the tcp/ip bitch slap button. When a pharmacist says something, does something, or acts stupid. We drop the hammer on the button and the pharmacist is out.

These people fill our prescriptions and they cant follow logic. That's scary. .24 + .24 is 80 its .48. Decimals scare people. I don't know why. A decimal is under-rated, and over-appreciated. Most people can't even stop at a stop light so why even bother with a small black dot. Wouldn't it be scary if people never stopped at a stop light but stopped reading at every period? I would then remove stop lights red color and put a period in there. A really small black dot. That confuses me badly. Anyways 5 minutes till I'm out.

See ya in the stars...
-=The Radical Dreamer=-

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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 3.0
Date: Feb 12th, 2007 8:50:14 am - Subscribe
Mood: helpless
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and a friend named Fluffy.

So...last night wasn't too hot. This whole avoiding of the attraction of the sleep agents is making it tough to get to sleep. Different reasons now. Now I'm excited when I try to go to bed and that makes it interesting lol. Without the sleep agents it makes me feel helpless but I can't start back taking them. Using them for one night turns into using them for the next. Lather rinse repeat.

I did however do a little drawing in the ole sketchpad. And low and behold I drew an old friend of mine from when I worked at Dennys. If you worked at Dennys with me then you will know what I mean when I say "Fluffy".

Let me give you a little insight into Fluffly. Fluffy is a kitty who works as the harbinger of souls. Basically he is the being who takes people across the River of Styxx... Your guide if you will into the afterlife. You have to have worked at Dennys to fully understand the the meaning but I will try my best to explain this to you.

Fluffy is a cat that always smiles. He is big and 2 tone orange, a dark shade of orange is his stripes, and a light shade of orange is the rest of his body. He pounces around to and fro all the day long. And he carries a Scythe on his back. Yes a giant fucking scythe. Your thinking a cat carrying a scythe? Yes a giant fucking scythe.

Working at Dennys you learn 1 thing or 2. Dennys is hell. And your life is dandy till you enter hell. Everyday you go to the Kenney street parking garage. Everyday you walk across Broad Street. Everyday you enter the glass doors of Dennys Corporate. Everyday you climb into an elevator that goes upward into the bowels of hell. Also known as the 8th floor.

How do you think none of us ever got injured going to work? We had a guardian angel...ergh kitty. I don't think he was a guardian though. I think he was more of a cat who hated his job just as much as we did. Let me give you the scripture of the book of Fluffy as omitted by King James.

The kennedy street parking garage is known as purgatory. The ride to work everyday is known as life. Broad Street is the one and only River Styxx. And Dennys, yes my friend you guessed it. Is Hell. The day you work there is as follows. You get out of bed (born). Get a shower and get dressed (child-hood). You get in your car (adolescence). Halfway to work you grow again (adult-hood). When you reach the parking garage gates your life ends (old age). Then when you get into the parking garage you have arrived at Purgatory.

You leave your car (the shell of your former self). And a mysterious yet well-known entity greets you. Fluffy takes his scythe out and starts getting everyone into a group to walk across Broad "River of Styxx" Street. He stops traffic for you... can't let his goods get damaged. He gets you to the elevator and closes the door behind you. You spend your 8 hours in hell and at the end of your shift you ride the elevator out. And Fluffy once again guides you Under the River Styxx this time (for all of us 2nd shift workers). He is sneaking us out and getting us ready for rebirth. You get a taste of heaven when you get home right before you have to go to bed.

The next morning its lather. rinse. repeat. Fluffy the Kitty told me once that he hated his job. I know why. He works for Dennys. He needs to move from that job as soon as possible. Maybe he can get a job in a prison or something. Or a church...

Anyways I am worn out today because my sleep was a bit restless. I think I run marathons while sleeping. I'm at work today and I am not feeling it. Work is growing a bit boring because the corporate world is draining. One of my buddies was forced into a week off. I don't like that. I wish they would give me a week off. Instead I had to beg the shit out of my supervisor for thursday and friday off this week. I leave wednesday to go visit my sister down at the beach. How cool is that?

Anyways I am out for a little while. I am going to play with the toys in my cubicle and pretend to work... Anyone up for giving up this corporate world and becomming full-time drifters into the world of the unknown?

See ya in the stars.
-=The Radical Dreamer=-

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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 2.5
Date: Feb 11th, 2007 10:27:40 pm - Subscribe
Mood: renewed
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and his life as a platypus.

The Radical Dreamer...dreams again today. So I ended up getting up at 3p.m. today after I got back to sleep around 11:00a.m today. Been one of the longest Sundays In a very loooong time. So lets re-cap the adventures so far for a brief moment. I went driving Saturday and we discussed how much I hate Chester and we also lived an adventure of a person blowing a gas station to hell. Then later saturday we discussed how bad I have mistreated my bed Lily the past few months. Earlier today we discussed my morning that began 3 hours after sleeping and how a hitman decided to take on the religions of the world.

I don't know where this shit I have been writing has come from. But The Radical Dreamer definitely knows it is the most liberating experience. It's great to know I can finally let people know whats going on in my head, and what generates some of the random stuff that pops out of my mouth. I think I'm figuring out more about myself than you guys are about me. The randomness is generated from me holding up all these ideas in my mind, so I break mid-stride to you into a joke that you don't get because its a piece of an idea flowing through my head.

Lets get on with my day today shall we. I got up today and browsed through the Aeonity blogs to see what my fellow writers had to say... Some of the stuff is good. I love the things I read for what they are worth. Tron...the person who reads my blogs most often and comments, writes some of the best words. I am envious of this person's grasp of the english language. The words used are words most of us have never written nor thought to write.

If I am reincarnated after I die. I don't want to live somewhere nicer, be someone else, or anything. Instead I want to be a platypus. Thats right. A fucking platypus. The worlds most rebellious but free animal. These bastards die for the cause. The platypus is one of few animals that never survive in the zoo. You know why I think this is so? Platypi (the plural of platypus because platypusses sounds dirty) are natural survivors. They understand the difference between the world giving them something and having to earn it.

The zoo life isn't for them. Having some human show them off to the world, and at the same time bringing them delicious morsels of food is just not their way of life. The platypus finds comfort in knowing it has earned its right to have what it has. I want to be a platypus in life. Most people want to be lions, birds, dogs, cats, etc. Thats bullshit. Those animals no matter how fierce they are, bow down to the laws of another. They conform to captivity. The platypus however does not. It will die before it gives in and accepts the ways of man. Thats how I feel sometimes. Sometimes I feel like people don't understand me, just like the platypus. I am not liking this feeling of captivity I currently feel under. It wasn't until I realized how much of a free spirit I am that I noticed this.

I love doing things when I want, how I want, and don't care if others want to or not. Thats why if I am ever going to settle down, I want it to be with a lady with the same view as that. I long for the live of crime, passion, and rock n roll. Not like being a criminal but you know, I want an accomplice to sit beside me when I'm flying down the interstate to the next adventure in life. The platypus is similar. He don't want to chill out with the tigers in the zoo. The tigers are conformists. They gave up the fight. Ever notice why we don't put platypi in zoos now? Because its inhumane because we know they won't survive. We know tigers will. Let's say all the tigers quit bowing down to man and started attacking everything in site or they just gave up and died. Would we put them in captivity then? Fuck no!

The platypi appears docile but can be a killer. It's motto in life is don't start shit with me and we are cool. Stay out of its way. I like that lifestyle. Don't fuck with me and we are cool. My friend david says I sold out to the corporate world as a joke to me. I know he is joking because he too works a corporate job with me. But little does he know... I think me and him are the least corporate there. We work to make money but we don't like the captivity. He wants to go on the road trip with me. David is a free spirit too I think. Me and him get along together for the simple fact the corporate world is hilarious. Ass-kissing is something we just don't do. You aren't a sell-out to something unless you completely give in. Tigers, lions, bears, oh my! have all sold out to humans. Thats why I do not respect those beasts. The platypi nation will never sell out. They aren't extremist or fundamentalist... they are just too free spirited to give up their lifestyle. Rage Against the Machine who I enjoy listening to dearly, don't have shit on them. Lets have a moment of silence for all the platypi that died so that future platypi will never live in captivity.

-5 minute break-

So anyways I went to my mom's for dinner tonight. She was cooking a hen, dressing, gravy, deviled eggs, and cranberry sauce from a can. I enjoy eating at my moms. She gets tired of not seeing me enough. But like I said I'm a platypi. I like be my own scientist, and to that I can not apologize to her. She knows I love her not just because she is my creator, but for the fact she does care about me. I can not apologize for the way I am. She knows that though I think. I think she has known all along that I am a platypi. But she didn't do her research on platypi, so she didn't know what animal I was. I don't care who you people are, tigers, lions, bears, cats, parrots, whatever. As long as you know in the end what animal you are and whether that animal makes you happy.

Platypi bring both tears and smiles to my face. I get a little emotional talking about them lol. The platypi is true to the motto "You can take the beast out of the jungle but you can't take the jungle out of the beast". You can put me in khakis and a nice shirt and send me to a nice big job, but you can't take me out of the scene after work. I stay up late at night and have long days at work for that pure and simple reason. Its not that I don't want to see my mom, I enjoy going to visit her. But I like being me. I never realized that till as of recent. The writings I give you sound twisted, weird, maybe humorous, somewhat stupid, pointless and out there, but to me they are insightful. Theres nothing like a caged beast. Will you die out or will you conform? I know I can't be a platypus forever. Some day I will be a Tiger, a beast with so much rage built up, but only growls now because it has conformed. And some day I will be a turtle, a tired soul who just moseys around like the world is waiting for him.

But for now I choose to be the platypus. The creature that lives by his own standards, dies by the sword, revolts against the unnecessities within the world, and shows the world "Don't fuck with me and we are cool." God I just realized how much I use the word fuck in a blog. Probably more than I do in a normal day of talking. Sorry folks, I have a view on cuss words you can't argue with me on. Cuss words are not mentioned in the bible. Fuck is a word we invented as humans. Fuck is never said in the bible that it is bad. Its a word we attached a meaning to and society deemed it necessary to make it the F-word. Imagine if the word focus had the same definition as it. "Ah Focus!". My point exactly the only word I don't like saying but it slips out is "GD". The only word that the bible does reference when it says "Do not take the lords name in vain". Damn is actually the worst word in the english language per the bible. It means to condemn someone to hell.

Hell is not a bad word. Damn however is. Damn attached with your creators name is you condeming him to a place for wrong-doers. So yea I see that one. But Fuck, shit and ass are not going to send me to hell. Anyway the night is winding down. And I need to end my randomness sometime soon. I am working on converting my webspace to a blog archive so I can put all my blogs in one junctioned space by category. I will let you know how that goes. Until then, be the animal you are and be content with it. If not change your animal. For now I will be the platypus and do what it does best.

See ya in the stars!
-=The Radical Dreamer=-
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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 2.0
Date: Feb 11th, 2007 10:45:09 am - Subscribe
Mood: rebellious
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and the religions of the scene.

Inspiration comes at the wrong times. Wait it might be the right times. Who would have known I would get a call at 9:00a.m. this morning from my sister. First words are "I need a favor." My response "I'm not at my computer." lol she will get that one. Turns out a friend needed a ride home from last night from somewhere. Sure not a problem. I can do that. Did I mention I went to bed around 5:30-6:00a.m. last night??? So I feel like a hangover but a worse one because I don't drink anymore.

It didn't dawn on me till I got in the car my sister had said "they will give you gas money." Me personally, I say no because I live on a different standard. I live on the basis of cost vs return. I never know when I might need someone for help and I don't have money. So my view is this, I'll do it for you but remember I may need you at some point later down the road. Don't offer me money.

That's right put the money in the bag. The very large bag that you know would have to be checked at the airport...not your standard overnight bag. Turns out Johnny Boy, the son of the leader of the local Order of the Southern Baptist Convention in this run-down one-horse town was being held by the Fanatics over at the First Presbyterian compound. I don't know the whole reason why. But I know Johnny Boy had got in a little trouble with owing some little clique from the Methodists in the area. He owes...ALOT. You don't fuck with the Methodists. They have ties with the Presbyterians. And the last group of people you want to owe anything to is the Presbyterians.

Me I'm a freelance merc of the local order of the non-associated religion. Yea you guessed it, a hitman, fall guy, gun for hire, helper on jobs that the Order can't get their hands bloody in. That's me. So now the Presbyterians are holding Johnny Boy for ransom till they get the money he owes plus a 200% processing fee. I don't even want to discuss how much money I'm packing on me right now in this black sedan. I know your thinking, why don't I just take this money and run? Well if Johnny Boy takes a fall the Order will have no other option to strike back, and wars as we all know are based on religion from the ancient Christian wars to battles for Jerusalem. But you never read about the small private wars. That guys like me fight to keep the religions calm.The time with the Wikkan cultists group planning to nail the Muslims was one of the worst ever. Let's not discuss the time I almost failed.

I have to many pressing matters on my hand right now. To be honest, Johnny Boy fucked up and the only thing keeping him from going down is that fact that his daddy wants to be the one to slap the shit out of him. The thought of the Presbyterians man-handling him first makes him angry. There is no sleight of hand involved on this transaction. Sometimes you have to play dirty, but this is one occasion where the contract says "Do it by the books". The books. Books are great. Sometimes I read about people who don't hold jobs like these, have white picket fences, 3 story houses, a wife, kids: john and sally, and a dog named Ralph. Forget that. Thats not me. I hate those books.

I want to go back to bed instead of doing this but my friend is needing a ride. I have my ipod loaded and we are on my way to pick them up to get them back home so we all can get back to sleep on a day we all have off. Not me. I get struck by inspiration to write mid-way through the trip over there. Bastards. I get hit by a sudden urge, I want nothing more than to off the Presbyterian leaders twin sons and put both their heads in the duffle bag. Then I want to walk in with the bag, and when they pass the tithe trays around. I would put that bag in the little tray. Hows that for meeting your daily goal? You open the bag and your kids heads are in there. Lets forget about the time the Church of Latter Day Saints caught them snooping around the Jehoviah Witness training labs. And the fact that Johnny Boy's dad, the leader of the OSBC (Order of the Southern Baptist Convention) was one of the head speakers pleading to get the kids back on good terms.

My eyes are still half shut from the blaring sun beating down my sunglasses on my way over to pick up my friend. It's too early in the morning. I slept 3 hours but it felt like that 3 hours took 15 days. Sometimes I wonder... maybe Johnny Boy would be better off if the Presby's just went ahead and took him out. His dad won't let him live this one down. It's going to be a bad time in the neighborhood. I'm hoping the plan goes on the mark. I hate having to pull my piece in these types of situation. I remember a time in a short shoot out with the roman catholics when I almost bit the big one. Damn priest hit me with holy water. Didn't expect 80% isopropyl rubbing alcohol to hit me on the forward. I give him that. The priest had a good idea. Throw high it will run down. Most people aim straight for the eyes.

An emtpy clip later and I'm standing in the bathroom flushing my eyes out with water. If the power of christ is found in a 3.98$ bottle of rubbing alcohol thats pretty scary. Might could drink a shot of that and walk on water, but I know for a fact this stuff wasn't used to heal the blind. Heal the victims of mass ant bites? Yes. Blind? No.

Somewhere right before I get to shamrock lanes I realize that today is in fact sunday. And thats why so many people are out in spartanburg today...at 9:00a.m. I should still be asleep. Sleep...ughhhhh. I skid my black sedan into a parking place at the back of this farm house that clearly looked like a satanic cult hideout. Those bastard Presby's already have a failsafe. I can't afford to fuck this one up. I can see the newspaper heading now, "Local son of the OSBC found mutilated in abandoned farmhouse. Appears to have been cult related." Those cults always take the bad rap, and if my prints show up at the scene of it, I'll be the fall guy for this one. Johnny Boy's dad would let me off the hook for his son dying, pay the cops off, the judge off the works...just to get his hands on me. I think I would rather just play guilty on this one.

When I enter the farmhouse, Johnny is in the chair and he ain't movin to much. Is he dead? no. Bruised up a bit but far from dead. Focus my friend. Focus. Don't mess this one up. I got the bag on me. I give the guy standing near the boy a quick glimpse in the bag he sees the money. He don't need to count. He knows we will pay up the exact amount. The transaction goes down without a hitch. My friend gets home just fine and can go back to sleep. Me I'm heading home where I know I won't get to sleep unless I hammer the keyboard a little this morning.

I walk Johnny out to the sedan in a bit of a fast pace. We have to move before they rummage the sack. Suddenly me and the kid are driving. In fact we are hauling ass till we find a place that appears safe. I may or may not have done this one by the books, but when the leader of the Presby's checks the money out and finds that the 10% of the 200% processing fee is missing and replaced with 2 notes with addresses on it. Heads is the title of one address list. Tails is the other. He will understand what that means...

I think I'm going to head back to bed for a little while now. The moment of inspiration has been achieved and I grasped it. Check back with ya later.

See ya in the Stars,
-=The Radical Dreamer=-
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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 1.5
Date: Feb 11th, 2007 4:49:26 am - Subscribe
Mood: loyal
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: within the confines of sleep.

And we are back again. It's been a really long day or should I say days? Its 4:07 in the A.M. and if you remember correctly saturday started with me going to help Matt move around 10:30 in the A.M. So I guess you could say I'm not off from a 24 hour cycle. I'm working on stopping my addiction to the sleep aids. I don't like that word. Addiction from now on will be replaced with the word: Attraction. So let's try that sentence one more time... "I'm working on stopping my attraction to the sleep aids."

It's not that I can't sleep right now. Just I enjoyed myself to much today, and I am not ready to face my pillow yet. I sometimes wonder if I should apologize to my bed for using contraband to help me sleep in it. How fucked up would that be if your bed hated you? You could hear it now... instead of people saying God hates them, they would say, "Dude My bed has to fucking hate me." Its a good thing our beds don't carry a conscience. Mine would be doing the "eye-rolling" followed by the no sleeping in the same room deal. My bed would make me fucking sleep on the couch!

Then me and my bed would have a massive arguement. I would say things like, "Look bed! I pay the rent around here, I put sheets on you. I give you pillows, I keep you clean. Look I even gave you a roof over your head. Not to mention all the friends I let live here... Like that lazy bastard, Dresser, over there."

My bed would play the quiet game on me. I know this. I can read it in its curves. The bed is saying "Don't you talk like that to me. I give you warmth, I show you my soft side, I even let you sleep on top!" Ohhhh that dirty bed always knows how to break me down. So tonight when I do go lay down, I might slip it an extra blanket or two, to make up for the times I hammered down one of the Amitriptylins. Or the 3 times I had to bottom down two in one night. I have been so neglectful to my bed lately. But I was nice to it the other day. I washed its sheets. Sure sure, the bed had to just lay there naked for a little while, but it let me know that it was all okay later that night. I need to stop saying bed and give it a name. Like Lily. There we go.

So Lily. I want you to know it wasn't your fault I was taking those pills. Honestly! Believe me Lily, I didn't want to but those 25mg blue delights were giving me something you couldn't offer. Yes yes dear I know. You are incapable of showing me mental comfort. But look how much I changed Lily! I am a better person now. Awww Lily don't go ruffling your sheets at me. You know I mean it when I say it. Lily I know your the only bed for me. All those times with that Trifling Hooker (my couch... we will call it Trifling Hooker for the remainder of this), meant nothing at all. She ain't near as soft as you are. Not to mention how bad Trifling Hooker is at playing with my hair... *I'd insert a pause and a wink right there*.

Besides Trifling Hooker is the village hotel. Everybodys had a stay on her. Then me and Lily would have make-up sleep. Maybe I should go have this talk with Lily sometime in the next few minutes. I don't know. But back to my point before my mind sidetracks again, because we all know my mind stays focused for a few moments at a time. I have to say that today has truly been one of the best days I've had in a long time. Even if Lily is pissed at me for sitting with Lean-On Linda (my computer chair). Linda is my fall back plan. She always comforts for me when I'm writing, downloading music, talking to other people on computers miles away. Linda is like my sister and Lily can't grasp that.

I don't want to leave Lily but sometimes she can be a real bitch sometimes. Linda reads everything I write, and I think Linda might understand me a bit more than Lily but Lily just has a way with me. In the dark nights when its just me and Lily (I accidentally typed Linda there first... good thing only Linda saw that) I know I can never leave Lily. I hate leaving her in the morning. Sometimes I just want to make the sun go back down so me and Lily can spend just a little more time together. Most of you probably think me and Lily spend way to much time together and think it won't last. To say I say "Get your own fucking Life." And anyone who thinks they might be taking my Lily away, you better think twice.

Now if anyone wants me to share Lily with them thats cool too, but just know I'll be watching you when your laying on her. One wrong move and I might have to take you out. Lily and I have a very long past together and sometimes I wonder if we will always be together. Lily is wanting a bit more of an open relationship. I guess thats fine with me. But I told Lily that I get to choose who can and can not be in it. Lily knows I make good decisions sometimes so she trusts me to make a good choice when it comes time for that.

Christ there I went again lol. Anyways today I was very happy. I spoke to my mom, told her since last night I have made a 180 in my life... and she goes "How many of those pills did you take this morning???" and you know what made me happy to hear those words? My response. Thats right my damned response made me a twitch happier "1". Not that I have ever taken more than one lexapro in a day but the vistaril and the amitriptylin I have had my share of those. The vistaril one day was 1 every 4-6 hours and the amitriptylin was 2 a night for 3 days straight. And thats why I was even more proud to say "1" today. I know to some people I may sound a bit hyper right now or out of my mind.

But you don't understand. I am happy to be back where I am right now. This is what I have been looking to find for some time. My eyes are clear and I'm seeing things totally different. I am more talkative and I quit giving a damn what it is I am talking about. You can see it in my writing I know. I suddenly start talking about something else out of nowhere. I have found something that makes me happy, writing, and ever since I started writing I have always been truthful and said whats on my mind. I don't bite my tongue when my fingers hit the keyboard. So I must warn you for the rest of the Journey with the Radical Dreamer that if something is coming across my mind... I will start talking about it. I may continue it on to carry on the blog a bit, but the things I type do cross my mind.

I have found a way to channel my thoughts and thats a strong step into where I want to eventually be. Now I just gotta make every day feel like today has

Please wish me luck when I talk to Lily tonight. It might be some "Pillow talk" but you my faithful readers, vouch for my credentials. Lily knows I love her more than I love Felicia (my bed room floor). Felicia is a stone cold harlot. She shows no emotion to me but she always seems to take me in. Lily cares for me. I can feel it in the boxspring. Anyways heres to us as we depart onward to the end of the beginning of the rest of my life!!!

See ya in the stars,
The Radical Dreamer
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Tales of the Radical Dreamer: Entry 1.
Date: Feb 10th, 2007 8:37:24 pm - Subscribe
Mood: bizarre
A Radical Dreamers journey through despair: and the Random Rambling of a soul

The Radical Dreamer in the wasteland of despair known as life: Encounter 1.

So I awoke this morning removing the shell of my former self. Hang my head upon reaching for the medicine case beside my bed. But then I give a brief smile. Because I not it is a necessity at this time. I am sure I could stop taking it. But we are on the road to recovery right?

"Out of the ashes, arises a phoenix" - I don't know who said that but I am taking it as a personal motto for my day. The Radical Dreamer is awake now. He is one of my alternate titles. Quite possibly the title I want to rule me. I am still Justin, Juice, cupcake, geek-boy, etc... but the Radical Dreamer is going to be the definer of all those names.

I like it. Its got a ring to it. Like I stated before. It has a sense of hope and determination to it. Its a title that says to me, "Hey theres a future and its bright. But remember there is the present and it holds all the lightbulbs, (torches, etc whatever you want to say for something bright. Hell say it holds the stars or sun either way) to light that pathway.

I'm running a bit late this morning. I got a meeting with my part of my Dysfunctional Circle today. And I don't want to miss it. Missing it would be a bad thing. It's an important day that brings joy to me. It brings joy to me but not as much as it does to Matt and Jessica. Today is the day Matt moves in with her.

I hop into the shower to make my weary eyes spread open just a bit more. But before that I am getting my cd burner in action to make me a little something to jam out to on the way there. A mix of Foo Fighters, Counting Crows, and a little She Wants Revenge. A mix that should get me a little bit more into the day.

Showering is a great way to start every morning. Its invigorating and your not fully clean unless your Zest... ergh Irish Spring Sport, clean! Unfortunately I don't use herbal essence shampoo so I don't do that whole "YES! YES! OMG! I'M HAVING AN ORGASM BECAUSE I'M SHAMPOO'ING!!!!!!!!!!!" Instead I use Pert Plus. Everyone knows why guys use Pert Plus. Its 2 in 1 (sorta, they must be really tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner to get both in 1 container). 2 in 1 means we can spend more time with our head planted against the wall while the water runs onto us. Thus meaning...yep you guessed it! Our first lazy moment of the day!

It's hot as fuck in my apartment after getting out of the shower... and thats a bit tough because the mirrors are fogged up and steamy. I do my standard routine of drawing things in the moisture in the mirror before using the ole towel to smear the water everywhere. Why do we deem it necessary to use a wet object to clean another wet object?

Fast forward to Matt's house. I show up at exactly 10:30 perfect timing when someone tells you to be there at 10-10:30. Kudos me! I am on time for something... Thats a good start. Wait. Time out!

Rewind back. The ride to Matt's house is interesting because today is one of those days where magically no one is causing a traffic jam at the University of Pine Street Elementary. Instead the road is clear besides the construction work that has been going on for far too long... I'm glad I get my tax money back soon. Those bastards are wasting time doing city work with my money.

Fast forward...er. I salute my buddies as I get out of my car and begin surveying what kind of heavy shit we will be moving. Matt's a very lucky man here... He is only having to take a computer desk, a tv stand, and thats pretty much it. That gives me a grimace lol. The best part is someone else has already moved the other stuff in for him... I make notice of that. When I moved or helped others move before... we had to put a washer and dryer, beds, couches, etc in. And those things can be a bitch to get in.

Hanging out with them today was great. We spent time moving his stuff in... and then Jessica gives me a huge surprise. She opens the door to her daughters room... and out pops the Huge Fucking Cat! I mean this cat is ginormous! I think the Tree huggers and animal lovers should investigate what she feeds this cat... If we can manufacture enough of it, we could manage to feed the starving people of the world and they would be well nourished. Then we don't need Sally Struthers fat ass to make us feel bad. Either that or Jessica is tying the cats arm off and pumping a steroid shot into every day. I don't know. I don't care. I just know this cat, Sully, is cool as hell.

Pressing forward. We decide to take a little journey to the Pinnacle of Spartanburg County. The wonderous and exclusive environmental services area. Don't be fooled by the "fancy" name. Its just a drawn out way of saying "DUMP". Its a giant fucking DUMP. Did you know you can't just throw your trash into one area there? You have to put wood in one area, and trash in another. Me personally... If i'm going to take the trash off, I don't care what it is, its all trash. Wood in my trash can is just that trash. Apparently the overseers of the landfill decided that my trash should be labeled and stereotyped. Fucking democrats.

Fast forward a little further in my day. I took an exodus today in my car to the land of Chester SC. Why the fuck anyone would go there? Don't ask me. I'm the vagabond here. I go where my car takes me. Did I tell you all that my car takes me hostage? Yes It holds a seatbelt to my chest...and waist. And then the steering wheel clamps my hands.So me the Radical Dreamer, climb into the car against my will...not really. Armed with the many but few tools of the Dreamer. I have my ipod nano (which fits snuggly into the adapter for the fm transmitter made for ipod's oddly enough), my wallet, my shades, 2 lighters, a pack of Lights, and for some reason I deem it necessary to carry a sharpie on me (preferably black).

Onward with the story...wait, details details details. The sharpie is used for tagging. You never know when you might encounter a place that needs to have your name, nickname, a quote, a phone number to call someone for a good time, or need to write a note for someone who is taking a shit.

Now lets continue. I fire up the ipod and we are off. Car karaoke is riddled today with various things of necessity. Phone calls, text messages to various people infused with song lyrics, meanwhile trying to keep my mind on remembering what part of "Best of You" by Foo Fighters the ipod is at. The randomness kicks in and I love it. Next thing you know I'm questioning things in my head... Like why I have playlist on my ipod named Nonsense.

Then I think you know what? I know why its called Nonsense. I named it that. I'm sure the ipod could have come up with that name on its own, once it seen Nirvana songs on it. Then I start thinking how cool it would be if I had a Stalker in that white mini van behind me with the boarded up windows... Yea you know its name, its the molester mobile. Then I got to think wait if I pull over and get out to pretend to check my tire pressure and they squealed up beside, tires throwing dirt up into my face in a gravel parking lot... and then some chicks in ski masks yanked in through the back of the van. How much cooler would that be? I get "The Follower" stalker class, with accomplices. That would be fucking sweet. Whats better than one hot chick stalking you? A group of hot chicks taking advantage of the fact you have no where to run and now is there opportunity.

Oh the nights of pain that would be... Sarcasm is under-rated in typing. I can't make you feel the sarcasm. Then suddenly I'm wandering my candy bars are much like corporate america. Every corporation wants to be number 1 and have you buy their product. Aren't candy bars the same way? Candy bars are very enticing. You stand in line at bi-lo and look to your right and theres a slew of chocolately goodness you cant help but stare at. Wait we got that wrong... The chocolate is staring at you. Then you hear the advertising campaign of the 3 Musketeer in your head. "Dude I am the best, i got nuget." And your suddenly like "I have no fucking clue what nuget is but by good I want it." You grab the 3 Musketeer.

Oh but wait. Reese's is not going down without a fight. "Hey bitch! I maybe expensive and only 2 cups in me. But come onnnnn you know like peanut butter." And suddenly your shell-shocked. You forget the fact that the Reese's called you a bitch. Your actually thinking... Man that candy bar, ugh cup, is delicious. So you trade 3 Musketeers in for Reese's. You later eat that Reese's cup and think about the decision you made. What might have been had you had the 3 Musketeer? An addiction you can't afford, literally sucks all your money out of your pocket. You obsess over it. Next thing you know your slanging rocks on the corner to support your 3 Musketeer habit. Your losing your job and don't even know it. You now work your job with only one thing in your head... "I want to quit this place so I can sit around eating 3 Musketeers all day". And next thing you know your in Candy Bar Rehab where they are shoving carrots down your fucking throat, and putting broccoli up your ass. And then they load the IV machines full of Ranch dressing with a mix of collard greens. You know you hit rock bottom when the doctor writes you a prescription of little green friends. 25 mg Sweet Peas.

That shits addictive. Next thing you know your munching down on those High grade Sweet Peas and you fail to realize your now addicted to the medication. What the fuck happened? You went from doing candy bars to doing becoming an addict of your medication. You run out of refills for those sweet peas. Super Wal-Mart cuts you off. you can't buy them there anymore. Food Lion caught you trying to stuff a bag down your pants, so you can't shop there now. Suddenly your going to a produce vendor on the side of the road browsing his goods. You don't have the cash on you to buy the goods. You know this but FUCK he has 50mg Snow Peas. You drool. You start jones'n. The vendor has you by the balls. He knows it. Your fucked.

Or are you? You reach into your pocket and pull out your piece. Suddenly he's not laughing so hard now. In fact I don't think that he is making any noise now. Unless you think gurgling blood is an actual noise. Your suddenly stuffing as many of those Snow Peas as you can down into a black Jansport backpack. The cops will be coming soon, that triflin hoe down the street selling lemonade for a nickel a glass has ratted you out. SHIT! you can't off her too. She's but a child. So you hop on your liquour cycle because you lost your license to dui already. DAMNIT! Your 2 strikes in already. You offed the vendor, and you already have a strike down for DUI. 1 + 1 = 3. Your going down hard. Yea I said 3. Beacuse whats going to happen when the cops rummage your car to shreds and discover 2 kilos of 50 mg Snow Peas. Not to mention the few bars of carrots you grabbed for a little extra juice. Snap back to reality.

I'm in Chester for no reason now. And suddenly I hook a left then hook a right, onto some street that has no name. At first I am unsure of it... but then I am back to where I started. Running from the law with high grade vegetables. It pays off to have a liquor cycle. You can get down some tough back alleys that way, and office McDougal can't follow you too far. But tough shit your on an open highway. Who in there fucking mind would put a back alley on a highway? Thats right the little cricket with the mom and pops shop right beside it. And then it hits you. You are speeding towards that back alley at a rate of 20mph at best. You'll never out run the law with this piece of junk. Then you spot the kid on the Huffy 10 speed. Fuck yes! You can now offroad...but wait your distracted. You know what I'm talking about. You see the candy display in the little cricket.

It kicks in. FUCK these snow peas and carrots. Little cricket has the hard stuff. You do it impulsively. Your in the store and your reaching for all the Twix, gummy bears, and trident gum you can. You aren't thinking, your on adrenaline and desire. You know what you want and that causes you to not stop and remember. You just wasted a 1st shift worker in a convenience store (thats convince if your on the west side of spartanburg). He's down and you know it. 4 Strikes. What the fuck kind of baseball game is this!? 4 strikes?? was wasting the clerk a foul ball? You know its not. You rush out the door. Wait was he down? Shit you shouldn't have hit his ass with the fire extinguisher. He's going to be ok. Yea so ok thats a foul ball. Or it could be a pop-fly. Who knows.

Where did the pop-fly go? Oh thats right straight into the video camera thats going to show where you walloped the clerk and then reached onto the counter to grab the tic tac display.

Anyways I'm suddenly talking to my sister going down the road discussing plans to go out tonight to see some karaoke. And be the DD for the night of fun filled laughs in a place that has some damn good wings. And suddenly you realize you trashed the jansport back pack in a hurry to get off the liquor cycle. Your toting way too many candy bars to maneuver a bike. And thats when it happens. I have to find a new playlist on my ipod, the nonsense list is over and now i'm listening to my hard rock list. And I'm firing up some Crossfade. Thats when its over. The cops are you already. Theres no way you can down all these candy bars and not OD. Its going to be some hard time for you if you let'em have you. If you fight them its going to be an even longer stint.

But you are going to be hit harder if they find out you have possession. It kills you to do it but you snarf down a twix, dig out a couple of random flavors of gummy bears, and pop a piece of that delicious cinammon trident. Its going to be your last fix...ever. You hate to do it but you toss the rest of the stash into the garbage. "I'm so far away. I've been changing but you'll never see me now!" I'm wearing out my vocals by now. Its hard to sing like rock stars. Growling is tough. The garbage can is a good but obvious hiding spot. Wait what if you create a fire in the garbage can? Then you can help out the homeless too. But the smell... The smell of those burning candy bars. The burning thought in general. Time is almost up. The sirens are getting louder.

Impulsively you throw the candy bars near a gas pump. Then you don't know the next moments too well. They are a bit blurry. If your going out your going out with a bang. Fuck T.S. Elliot, and his theories of worlds ending. You are jamming the pay inside button so hard you don't even realize you just stubbed your finger. But you have a mission. "I picture your face. The back of my eyes. Fire in the attic! Truth in the prize! Anna Molly! Anna Molly!" I love that song its great, I'm not far from my apartment now. I wonder who will be there when I arrive?

The gas is streaming out of the pump onto the candy bars. Was it necessary to down that mountain dew so fast? Your jacked up on twix, gummy bears are burning your thoughts, and that dentyne is making you feel a bit numb. But you mixed in that 24 fl oz mountain dew goodness in. Your so jacked up you can't even think about whats going down. You just know the gas is pouring all over that candy bar goodness you wanted. And now your having to destroy the evidence to prove your innocence. The lights are on the horizon. You reach for that lighter in your pocket that carries the torch that will bring salvation for your crimes today.

I'm parked in my parking lot gathering my odds and ends I took with me for the ride. Hm... my cell phone is fully charged. Thats pretty cool. How did i get 3 pics of nothing but a black screen though? Pocket photography?

The fucking lighter won't strike. You shake it near your ear, the fluids out? Then it hits you. No not that you need to go inside grab a lighter and finish the job. You get sprayed by that fire extinguisher. Yea you shoulda made sure the clear was down for the count. Apparently the fire extinguisher should not be used as a blunt object. Or maybe you just need to get an anatomy lesson. The shoulder is not a volatile spot to put someone down. Might break the shoulder but that won't knock them out. Apparently the clerk knew how to use it though. Your covered in powder. Class C or B? Not sure but you know its definitely not the one you had hoped for. Forgetting you left the pump still churning out God's precious commodity that rules the world, you notice that the puddle is spread far enough now that you could try to light it from a distance and hope for the best.

God I hate walking up stairs to go inside. Why is our fucking glass door broken? Oh thats right lol. We abused the privilige of breaking and entering into our own apartment. Its our fault lol. I just know I had to drop kick it the other night. Haha. The clerk can't really do much with that shoulder injury he substained in the first round. Round 2 is definitely his but you got the upper hand on the 3rd round. Judges are scoring this one on even grounds to be honest.You topple the clerk over with a good push to the face and he is down again. Well well well. What do ya know, when he falls the lighter that was stuffed down in his pretty little pocket of his work shirt falls out. Bingo! You kick the extinguisher away from him. He can't do much now. That left hook isn't going to be worth shit...for a very long time.

I have my keys out I should probably unlock the door but I am sure its already unlocked this time, so i just turn and open. Ryan is home now. He went shopping with his mom today and got some new clothes. I go to my room to refill my 7 day Lexapro pill case. And then toss it to the side. Yea you toss it to the side so he can't reach it. You know its a good day now. You got a good lighter and not to mention the gasoline has spread far enough now that you can get a head start before the cops arrive and still destroy the evidence along with the security camera and lets not forget the clerk. You grab your Huffy 10 speed and start peddling to the bottom of the parking lot where the fluid is right there at the bottom.

I come to my computer and check my myspace and my aeonity blogs. Nothing new posted to me or from anyone I know so I start typing away on my myspace blog about the first day in the life of Justin the Radical Dreamer.

You strike the lighter and your face shows a grim smile. Today was looking like a rainy day for a moment there. And you lean over and a bright orange flame sparks up and the night is suddenly turned into a fucking Rock Concert. Or a rock symphony. Symphony of Destruction. Great song. The police are arriving at just the right time. The distraction is going to set you free. And so here you are driving down the road on a 10speed Huffy. Next town is a few miles out. Might need to set up a camp somewhere close and rest. The twix is starting to wear off. But you still have 11 pieces of Dentyne left. Nows a good time to rest.

See ya in the Stars.
-=The Radical Dreamer=-
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