Ah, memories:

...No Mom, they're called DETHKLOK. D-E-T-H-K-L-O-K. Get it? Kinda like Megadeth.

...Ugh. Its not supposed to sound nice, its heavy metal, its supposed to sound pissed off.

...Why? Because I like it. Because I'm pissed off too. Sometimes.

...Eh? Don't worry about what he's saying. No one knows what he's saying. Just listen to it and jam.

Nostalgia.

DETHKLOK concert at the Tabernackle in Atlanta on Nov. 5th. Fucking right I'll be there.

I was working in chem lab today with lots of heavy metals. One acid solution contained a photoreactive silver compound. Basically the same stuff used in developing photos.

I'm a little sloppy with chemicals.

I got some on my hands.

I went to the bathroom without washing my hands first.

I'm pretty sure the next time my penis is exposed to light a few dark fingerprints will develop.

Funny.

The rain is relentless. I just finished a late-night fuel-line repair on my car. Tonight there was no rain to wash the earth clean, only to spread the mess around. I realized, as I washed my hands, that the mixture of soap and gasoline was equivalent to napalm. The temptation for a cigarette was almost irresistible. I can still feel the gasoline burning into the back of my neck.

The metaphor is comical.

I really can feel it burning my neck.

In reference to my last post, I'll have a much more analytical perspective of the issue some later time. For now, I obey my oath to sincerity.

I have no interest in dating for the sake of dating. The only women I'm interested in are the ones that are still alive. The ones that have a reason to get out of bed in the morning. The ones that know what it means to be alive. The ones that see life as worthwhile as I do. I only search for someone that can understand me, someone that can be a partner. I know it is difficult for usual people to find someone to understand them. I am very unusual. I am still alive.

I've been looking my entire life for someone that understands who I am. Someone who could, with time, at least. Even my closest friends, the people I've known for 17 years... even they only know my mannerisms, my habits, my usual responses. I fear that no one knows me.

Over the last two years, I've only met three women I consider worthwhile. Three that I consider worth being rejected by. Three that I would bother to try for. Over the course of my life, few enough to count on my hands.

Don't get me wrong, I've tried to be happy with a lady or two that liked me first. Yes. They were usually Vogue zombies or junkies. That was terrible. Two that I can think of at the moment. I'll call them Joe and Susy. Joe was one year younger than me. She had the hots for me because I had big shoulders, a deep voice, a toned, athletic body(totally new to me at the time, and since slacked a bit) from 3.5 thousand miles of bicycling every year, and the devil's curly hair. We had never met, she was just a loose acquaintance of a friend. We talked a bit, and decided to start dating. There was no relationship to speak of. As much as I hate to say it, I was completely uninterested and uninvolved. Its hard to say how long it lasted, mostly because its hard to say it ever really began.

Then there was Susy. We were friends for a while before I found out that she had a thing for me. She was a fine friend. I decided to give it a shot. Almost as bad as Joe's case. I didn't dread talking to her, though. I was, still, mostly sort of distant and uninvolved, though. After a few weeks, she decided that a friend of mine that I had introduced her to was a better suitor. Believe it or not I was happy for them. Unfortunately, I grew apart from the two over the course of a few months after that, and have since all but lost contact with both of them. They would later split up, and she married someone else, who, from what I hear(little), makes her happy.

Its been a long time since I've tried one of those relationships. I really did want them to work, as much as it may not seem like it. I can't force myself to care for someone that way, though, no matter how much I may try it or how convenient it may be.

Sometimes, I feel desperate for those relationships. I feel this freezing, frustrated loneliness as sleep doesn't come. I crave the warmth of another body. I am almost driven to give up. Some nights, I am almost defeated, almost killed inside. I persevere.

I don't  want to sound like a lonely, angsty teenager. I'm not.

I realize how naive I used to be. I thought that if I showed them I could fly, they would love me. Or at least acknowledge me. I thought that showing them I was unique, that I was not a face in the crowd, that I was a living, breathing, individual, would at least give me a chance. Flight is not desirable unless you are still alive. I learned that.

Why is it that every time I try to get a date the response I get is some form of "Sorry, you're just not enough of an asshole for me to date."?

I used to think (in highschool) that women simply didn't realize they were always dating assholes and rejecting non-assholes. During those years, women said they wanted to find a nice guy, and you know what? I believed them.
What a joke.

A few years ago when I left highschool I thought that things would be different somehow. I thought that all of the morons and assholes would have been weeded out by the stringent requirements of higher education.
What a joke.

Why the attraction to assholes anyway? Why pretend otherwise?

 

#EDIT

Wow, my quick rant got voted for top blog. Thats actually pretty goddamned funny.

Lunar impact soon! I can't wait. Soon we'll know whether its possible to build a base on the moon. Incredible.

Every telescope on this half of the globe is going to be pointed toward the south pole of the moon to see the 6 mile dust plume from the impact.

Perhaps we will find water.

This is a very exciting time to be alive. It reminds me of the Shoemaker comet impacts on Jupiter. Spectacular.