Isn’t it funny that when you quit, they throw you a party and buy you a cake, but when you are let go (not fired or let go for cause, but are — oh, say, written out of the budget), there’s little or no hoopla as you take your final steps out of the door?

The world is backwards, and no one notices.

Once when I was young
I used to dream for hours and hours
I’d dream a world that wasn’t small…

And I’d travel to a valley where
Under trees and earth
I’d set my girl…

And I knelt down by her head
And lay roses in her hair and I
Kissed her gently then…

So is this what you are?
As the sun sets in my eyes
I know…

And I know this one’s alive
And the worm inside of me
Is the oldest wound that I’ve nursed along
So don’t try to get inside
These things inside are wrong
Things beyond things

It’s sick now
It’s rotten to the core
Its eyes bulge and gaze at me (lovingly)

And I remember this smell
From my dreams except it was
Sweeter then…

And even in this room
Where I used to lock my secrets
It’s starting to smell just like my friend

And I told you not to breathe
So now I sit and watch the rain
I know

And I know this one’s the dark
And the woman inside of me,
is the oldest fear that I’ve nursed along…
So don’t try to get inside
These things inside are all just things

-Devin Townsend, Things Beyond Things

Regarding online vigilantes (see MSNBC.com):

I was sort of with this guy for the first page of the article. Not that I advocate removing someone’s words that you find offensive, but maybe there’s enough White American with a Christian upbringing in me to feel a little patriotic when you mention the word “jihad.” Or maybe I just haven’t woken up completely yet…

But then I read the last sentence of the article, a quote from the head vigilante. And suddenly, I have huge issues with this case specifically, and remember why I’m so very pro-freedom of speech:

“I understand enough of what they say to know they are my enemy, and that’s all I need to know,” Weisburd said.

Holy shit. Hey, chief, you realize that you’re the enemy of Muslims, far-right Christians, white supremists, and a number of other groups, just by virtue of your Jewish heritage?

Not really strong validation for vigilantism.

I suppose that you’ll bitch and moan like no one’s business when someone hacks your site or has your hosting contract cancelled.

In the future, every man will be a self-appointed God, and it’ll all still feel exactly like this.

Spent too much of the weekend watching my growing collection of HOUSE episodes, and it’s got me thinking about mysteries. And redefining problems as mysteries… It makes it easier to think about obstacles as questions, looking for answers instead of fixes.

Though maybe that’s not the right way to approach this…

There are connections, I think, that I am seeing the components to. I just can’t be sure that — a.) there’s a real connection or b.) what that conenction is. Not to mention that I have to “unconsider” previous theories about the root or meaning of some of the components.

And maybe there’s no relevant connection. But I have to keep thinking about this, trying different approaches, seeing what falls into place. This could be the path that I’ve been seeking recently.

Change? Control? A level of new?

i just realized that i have done exactly what [he] always told me to do… to just decide to be happy. there comes a point when one has to make that decision, i think. i understand now. i was waiting around for happiness to find me, when it was all here already.

When you take painkillers for five straight days, you do some serious damage to your guts. Maybe not long term damage, maybe not even anything serious…. but on day two of detox, you can feel your stomach and bowels complain.

And it’s not a one-time only complaint, either.

In fact, it’s about every five minutes. Which makes productivity non-existent.

I should just set up an office in the bathroom. Wireless, remote keyboard… it’s not impossible to imagine, actually. Even if it is bothersome and wrong.

Stupid things have invaded my house. I must be some sort of bug magnet — first it was fleas, then ladybugs, now moths.

My Indian totem is a big fucking BUG.

An additional thought to add to my earlier mention: at least I’m not one of those people whose dreams have died and they run and try to escape from themselves. Drinking themselves to death. Spending all their time and money chasing down pills or weed or the next big score. Waking up and wondering who has their fix today.

Not that I have anything against drinking or drugs or any form of escapism. On some levels, I’m as guilty as anyone of that — comics, movies, etc. But it doesn’t rule my life. And it’s not the whole point of my life.

And neither is the point that it’s too bad I don’t have the balls to just kill myself. I wonder if the drinking and such is a sign that there’s hope behind the glassy eyes, that one day, somewhere down the road, everything might get better… or if it’s just cowardice. Or even an utter lack of awareness of how much you hate living.

I wonder where insanity comes from. Not the causes, not the root of the symptoms, but the thoughts themselves.

Are there crazy babies?

It hit me tonight: at this moment in time, I’ve become that thing that I hate and fear. I’m a person with little ambition and no real dreams of which to speak.

I’m not sure how it happened (though I know when, roughly), but I suddenly find that I’m not chasing anything at the moment. And it’s not that I’ve finally gotten all of my heart’s desires; I just don’t really desire anything anymore. It’s almost like I’ve given up on the inside, but not nearly so traumatically as that phrase would suggest.

Of course, I’m tired beyond description right now, having pushed myself too hard the past few weeks and having dealt with a lot of stress (money, dentist, new job, etcblah). So take all this with a grain of salt; I am.

But still, one pervasive thought stays with me: is this what separates adults from kids?

I still wanna be a Toys’R’Us kid.

I’ve got a million of ’em, folks.

Should you ever hear that root canals are painful, call the speaker a puss. Or tell him to go see my dentist, Dr. Edwin Smith — the man ROCKS, folks. I’ve never had a less painful dental procedure. And I know it’s only part I of three or four (still have to have the tooth filled, then fitted for a crown, then crowned), but damn, that was not bad at all. I honestly could have fallen asleep during the procedure had I tried.

Now, that extraction I’ve got coming up, on the other hand…