Writing to reach you


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 |

Well, with the weekend about to come and whisk me away again into one of my great adventures, I was asked to start blogging again (heya Gauss!) and spice it up a little (Gard, Ana! Spicing things up by blogging about AO ? I think not!) So you know what ? I'll tell you about my weekend, or atleast the bits I remember... So friday was nothing special. I went to a friend of mine and we hung around a bit and watched t.v and drank a few beers. We decided to go to the local pub cos that was as far as I could drag my drunk ass without falling over...too often... Funny thing about the local pub is that it's the hangout for all the kids in town, kids meaning 14, 15 and 16 year olds mostly. So when we arrived, yup, you guessed it, there was like nobody there...strange...boring...beer... So I had me another few beers and was about to doze off when one of the friends I was with asked me if I wanted another drink, yay! more beer for knocked out merc... ;) So he arrives at the bar and, and, puts out his cigaret on a guys hand that came in just a few minutes before he went to get the drinks...then he hits him in the head... So here I am laughing my ass off while everyone and their dog (so thats like 8 people and an actual dog, no kidding) is holding back my friend cos he was about to go ape on this guy, who was like 60... So yea, friday was weird, but I was home at like 1:30, an alltime low. Saturday, oh yea saturday... So I went to a friend to sit on his couch and drink beer, oh yes, life is good. So on arriving, the hand burning old guy hitter was just walking up to the door too, we didn't mention it. We rang the doorbell, the door was opened and we made our way upstairs to the living room. What did I see ? Two 14 year old supermarket chicklets sitting stoned on my freaking beer drinking spot. What's with this crap eh ? There they were, on my spot, MY SPOT, being jailbait. Life sux. So I got drunk on a chair, yup, a wooden chair, and I kept my hands to myself, yup yup. BOOOOORINGGGGG :( The phone rang. "Hey we are at a birthday party, wanna come ?" Hell yea! So all of a sudden me, my groggy ass and my two friends were on our way to the party, leaving the two chicklets to go to the local kiddy pub. Only problem was, we were on our bikes... So you guessed it, halfway there my friend got a flat tire, suxx0rs much ? Luckily we had jut reached the top of a hill and it was all downhill from there...yes, we have hills...hehe... So we arrived at the party. From 14 year olds suddenly here I was, amongst 30 year olds... So I had a few beers, ate some stuff and talked a bit. My friend wanted to go there cos he kinda liked the birthday girl, yup, hes annoying when it comes to chicks, first 14 year olds, now 30 year olds. So ofcoarse in the end all the chicks were flirting with me, beer has that effect...on me... ;) Well, that didn't spice it up at all eh ? Yup, my basic weekend is as eventful as the faith updates. Drink beer, sit on couch, drink beer, sit on couch, drink beer, flirt with chicks...or atleast that's what the beer tells you... Boring.
| posted by merc, 11:01 AM | 0 comments |