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Focus Stacked
| posted by merc, 12:40 PM | 7 comments |

It's like 20 degrees out there, on the outside, the great outdoors, the huge fucking room beyond these windows. Holy fucking shit how depressed am I ? Depressed enough to type a blog entry about it that's how depressed, goddammit! With great weather come great vistas, less cloth, more cleavage, short skirts, tight shirts, the beautiful people run rampant, ruining my mood. My head is still spinning and my neck hurts. Here! There! Everywhere! Where to look, how to look ? Can't these people stay inside till I'm done crossing the road ? An instant depression is the result of all these exhibitionistics that are going on. "Mr. Jones" forces it's way into my mind, "...and we all want something beautiful...man I wish I was beautiful...", can't it stay winter forever ? I guess it's time to suck in my stomach and start my summer push-ups, I might even try getting a tan, cos milky white gets kinda boring after 5 years...I might, I may...nah, I'll stay inside...fuck the summer...or...
| posted by merc, 10:35 AM | 0 comments |

It's been a while eh ? I've been busy doing lotsa nothing. It's what I'm good at. And hey, guess what ? I went and got that haircut...on Februari 20th...it was long enough to make a ponytail...ewww Part from that not a lot has been up lately. Still doing the same deadend job. Still spending most of my time online. Stopped going out. Bought for 10k worth of DVDs I don't watch. Still trying to read Palahniuk. Still trying to be more of a photographer. Gave up writing. Going to London next month. Playing Oblivion on my 360. Traded FaitH for ILB2, they think I'm a she, less static when I'm being an asshole. I might post some photos if I feel like it.
| posted by merc, 3:52 PM | 0 comments |

Might shave my head, never had hair shorter than 3cm, its 15cm now. Hmmm, might.
| posted by merc, 3:10 PM | 0 comments |

What the hell?! Merc reads books?! Uhuh, he does. I'm a big Palahniuk fan. Who? Chuck Palahniuk, but that name probably doesn't ring a bell, let's try something else, Fight Club. That rings a bell right ? A huge fucking ding-a-dong bell I'm sure. Fight Club was his first real publication and immediatly picked up by David Fincher to be made into a movie. His books are filled to the brim with stuff that really happened to him or people he knows. The latest I read is called Non-Fiction, and you guessed it, it's not fiction. Non-Fiction is a collection of short stories written as articles for papers and magazines (you might know Palahniuk as a story writer for...Playboy...) Normal everyday things are turned into interresting stories, stories you can't stop reading, strange but true. There are three main parts in the book, People Together, Portraits and Personal. The introduction to this book starts with a line that defines Palahniuks writing, "If you haven't already noticed, all my books are about a lonely person looking for some way to connect with other people" This book will show how people reach out, though really it looks like "normal every day" behaviour. Most of all, he uses details, details, details. Some funny, some interresting, most gruesome. In Diary he spends a couple of dozen pages on the muscles in your face, and which one moves with each expression... People Together starts of with something many Americans know, and something most male internetters know, Mardi Gras/Springbreak. A daring way to start of a book, it's a report of your general (nasty) day during springbreak in Florida. Sex, blowjobs, stripping, bumping and grinding, it's all there. Next up are wrestlers. He tells about a wrestling contest, a dying sport, about young men trying for their first Olympics and old men trying for their last. A diverse group of wrestlers ranging from highschool kids to middle-aged men competing for a few spots on the Olympic team. They tell about the addiction, the broken bones and the reason they all have weird looking ears. It's a sad story filled with glory, darn that rhymes nicely. Yet another story tells about book, theatre and screenplay writers trying to get published or noticed by Hollywood. Hundreds flock to a ballroom in a hotel, carrying their gameplan, their liveswork, their break from the drag that is their life. Seven minutes is all they get to convince a representative from a publisher or a Hollywood producer. And they only paid 20-50 bucks to get in... Next up are a Demolition Derby, a day dressing Furry, modern day castle builders, using steroids, life on a submarine, seeing ghosts. All focussed on people and their weird lifestyles and hobbies. Portraits focusses on some celebrities. First of is Juliette Lewis, someone we all know from the movie Natural Born Killers. She tells about how her life went, what her plans were and how she ended up doing something totally different. She tells about her acting and how she does what she does. How people think she's a psycho by nature, while really she's really shy. In the end, she is doing what she started off looking to do, singing. The second story is that of Andrew Sullivan. Who? He's a well known writer, columnist, political critic, and most of all, defender of gay rights. He talks about how he always stood inbetween Democrats and conservatives, how they all hated his guts for telling the truth instead of the truth their party sided with most. He talks about how he got to where he is, including how he got HIV positive and how he deals with it. Other portraits are about Amy Hempel, a writer Palahniuk says about "You go beyond this point, and almost every book you'll ever read will suck". Marilyn Manson, giving a tour of his house while laying his own tarrot. Michelle Keating, a woman that travels from disaster to disaster with her sniffing dogs to help find people burried under buildings and dirt. Brian Walker, a.k.a Rocket Guy, first guy to build his own rocket. Ira Levin, writer of books that deal with issues in society years before they happen, Womens Rights in '67, Men fighting Womens Rights in '72, Spy Cam abuse in '91. Personal tells about stuff Palahniuk went through himself. He tells about his carreer as an escort for a hospice. How he went with the dying to places they wanted to see one last time. How he visited LA for screenplay negotiations for Fight Club. His experience with "The Lip Enhancer", something he bought on TellSell to outlip Brad Pitt, all he ended up doing was sounding silly. How kids did stuff from Fight Club for real, not the fighting, the other bits... "Margaret Thatcher has eaten my sperm atleast five times", the Una-Pooper smearing walls with his own crap, projectionists putting bits of porn in Disney films. His visits to stripbars that had hundreds of cockroaches and 5 people in it. How he passed a kidney stone. How his father was murdered. Stories remembered after opening his box of creditcard receipts. Did I like it ? I loved it! It's a great read, and very much unlike anything else I've read before. It's the 4th book by him I've read, I bought another one today and am already reading my 5th.
| posted by merc, 10:59 AM | 0 comments |

I've lied a thousand times. It's like a little game I play to see how far I can stretch the truth before someone stops believing me. Every year I get asked atleast a few times, "What's that scar from ?". Now if that isn't an invite for make-believe then I don't know what is. "That were I was stabbed when I tried to stop a mugger that just stole someone's purse" Ofcoarse it's not like everybody is that gullible, but you would be surprised how many people are. "When I was eight I tried to climb a fence and fell, a spike pierced me and I nearly bled to death." People stare at you for a moment and decide I can't make that kinda stuff up. "Ouch that must have hurt!" "I had a bike accident and broke three ribs, I was lucky one pierced out instead of piercing my lung" The faces people make when they picture that happening are worth a thousand words. "A classmate went psycho on me and stabbed me three times with a pencil." My classmates didn't know I existed, let alone give me the time of day and stab me. "Ever seen Total Recall ? That's where they cut my undeveloped twin out of me, I even made Science Magazine." Arnold Schwarzenegger has too many fans. "That's nothing honey, keep sucking." Okay, sometimes I kid myself. The truth is a whole lot less exciting so making up stuff will atleast make for a more interesting conversation.
| posted by merc, 5:34 AM | 0 comments |

I went swimming for the first time this year. What with a heatwave going on it seemed like a good idea. And it was, kinda... Me and two friends were gonna go to a lake nearby. When I arrived there a 4th person was going too, and she was driving us, yay! Eventhough I'm really attached to my bike, aka my freedom I decided it was best to get into the car :P The idea was to build a campfire and stay really late. We did build a fire, but the late part kinda failed. The place was covered in a thick blanket of midges (I hope thats the right word anyway) and my friends went crazy and paranoid :P Swimming offered a short period of bliss, but staying in the water all night wasn't a good plan. I'm used to the little buggers eating me alive so I kept my cool. They decided it was a good idea to stand in the smoke of the fire to get rid of them, nice try but no...hehe... The fire existed mostly of empty cans, candy wrappers and garbage that washed up on shore, nice smoke to stand in eh ? When the light started to fade the midges left, and their big brothers arrived, musquitos. Right about now my friends were jumping about the place cursing and panting. I still didn't show any emotion, so they declared me insane...while they walked about wrapped like mummies going to see an opera, in a thick black plastic smoke...and I stood there in my swimming trunks in the fresh air. Oh yea, I was the insane one, clearly. So we left early, one friend went home, the other went home 15 minutes later, sick of the alcohol, hehe, and me and a friend sat at his place a bit. Now I'm paying the price though, kinda. I got stung about 40 times, of which about 5 are annoying me. Oh well, I'll survive and will have learned nothing.
| posted by merc, 5:49 AM | 0 comments |

Today is the last day of the first week of my four week holliday...right ? Okay. Wanna know what I did ? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. I walked the dog, that's damn well near a fulltime job. Three times a day this hairball needs to go peepee. Even I piss less, unless I drink beer ofcoarse... What I planned to do ? Well, I was mostly gonna do some photography, maybe some reading and a little writing. What I did instead ? I played CoD, GTA:SA and trivia on chat... Welcome to my life of excitement, thrills and spills, cheap alcohol and cheaper women...okay maybe not the women...or the excitement...uhm, and the thrills and spills aren't very well represented either...HERE'S TO CHEAP ALCOHOL! But seriously.
| posted by merc, 3:26 AM | 0 comments |

Well im done :) I started reading a book 13 months and 8 days ago. Did I mention I'm not big on reading ? The book is called Diary, by Chuck Palahniuk. Never heard of him ? Well he also wrote a book called Fight Club...that sound familiar ? His books are full of weird detail. This book he starts off defining every muscle in a face, and every emotion they portay. Sounds like a bore ? Well, strangly enough it isn't. But that's just me and my weird opnions. (I like Tolkiens historical facts in The Silmarillion too) So what do I think overall ? The ending is a bit sudden, asif he had a deadline to reach while writing this and wasn't gonna make it so he rushed it. Everything else is pretty nice, some gruesome details here and there, making a trip to the dentist sound like Disneyland. (Fincher showed a bit of it in Fight Club when they went looking for fat to make soap. And when in the end as Jack gets shot on the jaw) So yea, it was worth the 13 months. Next up, Invisible Monsters, also by Palahniuk. Other news today ? Well how about : Whoa! Looks like I'm finally growing into my state of mind :) Wha ? Well, it seems like my looks are adjusting to how I feel, not vice versa. I've always felt great until I saw my own reflection, see I'm not the best looking guy out there, or wasn't. Distorted selfimage ? Maybe, the lack of girlfriends however seems to underbuild my opinion of myself. So why this change all of a sudden ? Well it's been going on a while now. First I went from stick to having beer muscles and love handles, and now I'm not just the guy looking, I'm the guy getting looks back ;) Don't worry I still have low selfesteem and love to ridicule myself (and others), no inflated head here. And did i mention I love the weather today ? 30+ Celcius with a nice breeze, lots of chicks with less of clothes. A flirt here and there, I think I'm finally leaving the worst of my 10 year depression behind me. Time to start re-entering the social scene I figure, I need to get laid ? Well that's my rant for today, thank God I haven't alienated the walls yet ;)
| posted by merc, 5:30 AM | 0 comments |

Heh, he's back, again. After a few dead months of forgetting FaitH and Gomi the asshole giverupper, and beating an Anarchy Online "addiction" I decided to blog again :) I'm back to enlighten your dark, sad worlds with the opinions I have about stupid stuff like uhm, well, stuff ;) I have my short bursts of creativity, the latest of which spawned 2 ideas for movies and a game idea that was already used im sure :) I'm a sucker for drama, and a bad Tarantino copier, things that just don't mix well. That combined with the interrest span of a goldfish, and the memory of one makes for a lot of weird snippets.
| posted by merc, 3:50 AM | 0 comments |

Most people have longtime dreams and hopes that they never get to fulfill, and hooray, I am no exception. I've had quite a few of those dreams about what I wanted to reach in the (near) future, all on the creative side of the spectrum. When I was about eight years old my aim was to become great at drawing stuff, anything really. When it came to drawing during the special drawing hours every day I was teh shitz. Especially my pictures of trees turned heads, mine looked quite real, especially when compared to the vague stickfigurelike shapes that could best be described as tumbleweeds. When I was twelve I went to the school for big kids, though my test scores said I'd be best off on a lower level my parents went ahead and aimed one level above what the teachers said I should go to. I already had this weird superiority complex that made me think even that was aiming too low, but hey, I'm speshul remember ? My interrests shifted from drawing to writing. Pretty soon my personality changed from "the funny kid" to "the silent secluded kid" and believe it or not, my cute blond hair turned dark brown and my angelesque blue eyes went a stale grey. Depression was born. Soon I was writing dark, sad poems all over my school planner, where my homework should be. Ofcoarse I still scribbled little pics to go with the poems, but that's all they were, doodles. From writing poetry and lyrics I took a few stabs at writing stories. Now the problem with that is that I think and talk to myself a lot...in English. My thoughts are all in English, German, even French. The latter two I don't even speak very well, hell, I'm happy I can get stuff across in English. So I finished the highest level possible without getting into Latin and Ancient Greek, I took Art instead. All or most of the teachers at this school were either highly esteemed scientists or annoying treehugging hippies...yup, I took Art. Pretty soon I noticed there was nothing Art about Art, just skill and no meaning, realism and no symbolism, so again I doodled lots and snippeted more. So here I am, playing online games at night, working during the day in a job I took for the summer until Uni started...4 years ago. I'm still writing poems and lyrics, still writing stories I never finish, drawing sketches that never get done. I've also started writing movie scenes and have started a script you may have read a bit of a long while back in my blog. I'm taking pics too, I bought my second camera a few (6?) months back and have shot about 100 pics with it, I've hit a bit of a slump you could say. So what do I hope to be(come) ? I'm going to be a famous screenplay writer that directs and sometimes takes on little roles in his own films. I'll also be having an album out with soft rock music with a melancholic undertone. My plan to die young kinda backfired after the 6th failed attempt so I guess I'll be an old rich geezer that lives in the past and curses all progress. I'll die with a smile on my face knowing I ruined the lives of those that hazed me and ofcoarse cos of the 10 dollar hookers wrapped around me as I grab my left arm. "Men die, but sorrow never dies; The crowding years divide in vain, And the wide world is knit with ties of common brotherhood in pain." -Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
| posted by merc, 2:23 PM | 0 comments |

It's been what ? 3 years. And it's been how long ? 8 hours. Yup, 8 hours since I last (conciously) thought about her and 3 years since I last saw her. Until this afternoon. I take my lunchbreak at 4:30 every day, yea that's a wee bit late, I know. So I'm walking the same old circle for the 700th time when I gaze across the street from the cinema near where I work. My heart skips a beat. It was in a blink of an eye that I recognized her. My chest started throbbing and some weird panic took hold. I must have played this scene in my mind a thousand times, over and over. A glance followed by recognition, a smile, a casual chat about the last 4 years since we last spoke. Then the daring part where I asked to see her again, go for a drink, talk some more. I choked, I quickly looked away, burried my face in my jacket and went around a corner, listening to my sentimental songs about lost love on my mp3 player. I crossed the busy street and disappeared into a sidestreet after one last quick look behind me. She was gone.
| posted by merc, 1:53 PM | 0 comments |

So like, I was enjoying my 12th beer at the 3rd bar-dancing place we went to. This is the one I went to last week, and the week before that too. Same old same old... See, the thing I like most about going out is watching people, especially curved ones of the female persuasion... I was more than content with the first two places we went to and didn't really feel like leaving those, but hey, I figured it best to follow the group, makes the cab ride home cheaper ;) So where I was now, I dunno, it just didn't feel right. The thing is, it's a place golddigger chicks go to pick up old rich guys. Don't get me wrong, it's like really trendy and filled with young people, but there are also a few old rich filthy/filthy rich geezers walking around looking rich... I like to call it Hell, cos that's what it feels like from where I'm standing. Hot chicks my age with old moneybags all over em...it's just not fair...if you know what I mean... So I'm minding my own business, drinking that 12th beer, when suddenly in the middle of all those sinners...an angel... Now I'm not trying to go all religious on your asses but, damn, the room lit up. Now the rare sight got even rarer in that she noticed me too...or it was my mouth wide open gaze on her...hmmm... So I hear you wondering what the hell happened...not a thing. See, even after 12 beers I'm the shy and insecure guy you all know and love ;) So I went to take a leak and when I got back she was gone, I bet she ran ;) Oh well, another weird but wonderful day in the life of merc.
| posted by merc, 1:04 PM | 0 comments |

"How could I forgive you ? How could you survive ? I hate you more than life hate you more than... How could I say sorry not see through your disguise I listened to your lies listened to you... Cos I dont want to see you I dont want to be with you I dont want to listen to bullcrap im tired im going to bed so forget about this sissy crap ;) night night
| posted by merc, 7:58 PM | 0 comments |