From Rags to Riches

I'm not in the business of minding my own business.

I tend to stick my nose where it least belongs. This is a problem that I would fix, but it seems as though my nose is without a home. Abandoned as it may be, it appears as though it's only friend is it's acute sense of smell. A sort of super-sensory ability to sniff out situations of which it has no business being involved in. An olfactory omen, both transient and unwelcome.

So where does this leave me? Well, up until recently it has resulted in a lot of lost time. I tend to invest in baskets which no sane individual would dare place a single egg in, let alone the dozens which I have broken due to my lack of foresight. You could make enough omelets to feed an entire Denny's with the time that I've wasted in the past.

One thing you learn in business school is that business is never personal. Of course, this refers to the term business in the economic sense. What they fail to teach you, is that when it comes to the other definition attached to this word, there isn't getting much more personal. Being as how one's "business" is that which they concern themselves with, I would suggest that if it is not personal, then it is inevitably doomed to fail.

So, where am I going with this? All this talk of noses, and eggs, and business just sounds like a big clusterfuck of some kid feeling sorry for himself, right? Wrong. Up until this point I may have sounded pessimistic, but what I am really doing is formulating a new business plan for my life. Nobody has ever become successful as a result of producing the exact same product as someone else, and a truly ambitious businessman can never get comfortable having a boss to answer to. So, from now on I am going to be considering myself an entrepreneur. I will thrive off of no other man's achievements and I will climb to the top of the ladder and become a pioneer in the industry of me. As of recent it seems that I am truly in the business of eliminating business as usual, and if you are a smart investor, then I would recommend buying soon, because business is booming.

Comfortable is Just Another Word for Stationary.

The longer I live, and the more misfortunes that I encounter, the more I realize that good can truly be taken out of any situation. 2009 for me was a year that close to nothing really went right, and yet here I am today, not even a month into 2010 and I can honestly say that I wouldn't change a thing about the last year.

Why is it that we are a people who are so afraid to embrace the unknown? Why do we so enjoy being completely set in our ways? How can we possibly be so comfortable moving at such a slow pace? Although it may not be exact, it took around 365 days worth of trials for me to realize that life is far too beautiful an experience to settle for anything less than extraordinary.

It astonishes me how many different versions of myself I have seen this last year. There was a point in these last 365 days where the thing which defined me the most was a relationship that I had with a girl who didn't appreciate me. There was another point where I was mainly defined by how defeated I had become after losing her. This year I have been a clothing salesman in two different venues (even if one of the venues only lasted approximately two shifts worth of work.) I have been a receptionist, an electronics salesman, and I have even been unemployed. I have been a good student, and I have been an underachieving one. My record was once clean, and now I am on probation. I have been called a nice guy, a good guy, an asshole, an enemy, a boyfriend, a best friend, and plenty of other things to go with it. I have been the guy someone was "talking" to and the guy that you can talk to. There were times in 2009 that I was independent, dependent, codependent, transcendent, and unable to be depended on. The list goes on, but the theme remains the same. I used to think that what I had been experiencing was a series of unfortunate events, or a spell of bad luck. Now I realize that I was simply growing up, and that to look at that so negatively makes forward motion an impossibility.

My resolution not only for 2010, but for the remainder of my life, is not to fear change and be open to the possibility that if something is going differently than how I had planned, it may be for a reason. I used to think that the words "comfortable" and "happy" were synonymous, but right now "comfortable" is one of the last words I would use to describe my life, and yet I have never been happier with who I am. From here on out, although it may be difficult, I plan on trying to celebrate my discomfort, and my misfortune. Although it may not feel great while it is happening, I can't help but to be excited about the fact that these are the things which are molding me, and helping me to grow into who I truly am.

BLOG

I've decided that I want to start keeping a blog again. Since the virtual collapse of Myspace, I haven't written a whole lot due to a lack of a good place to post everything, so here is my attempt at starting again. I am sort of doing this in a hurry, so for now I have just posted some of my favorite writings from the past.

For those who may actually read and might be unfamiliar with my style of writing, 75% of what I post is either fiction or music. I throw in actual rants/thoughts/commentaries from time to time, but for the most part this is a chance for me to better myself as a writer.

Anyway, I hope you hate it!

Zack

Do Your Worst

Throw me under the bridge
Throw me under the bridge and I'll live there
Throw me under the bridge
I'll be the troll that controls who can come and can go

Throw me under the bus
Throw me under the bus and I'll lie there
Throw me under the bus and I'll die and you'll cry
and you won't get a wink's sleep at night

Darling, your name's so important
I would hate to see it distorted
by any silly thing that I might do

Fill my shoes with cement
Fill my shoes with cement and then toss me
Toss me over the bridge that you threw me under
but this time aim for the water

Tie me down on the tracks
Tie me down so I can't move a muscle
Tie me down and then go so that you can't see the show
when the train spills my blood into puddles

Darling, your name's so important
I would hate to see it distorted
by any silly thing that I might do
It's charming to stand in your corner
Can almost see you over my shoulder
But it's harming me to do so much for you

My body's full of holes
and my bones are weak and old
so won't you leave me to die out in the cold?

These are my final words
not a thing you've done has hurt
so crush me baby. Do your very worst

Darling, your name's so important
I would hate to see it distorted
by any silly thing that I might do
It's charming to stand in your corner
Can almost see you over my shoulder
But it's harming me to do so much for you

Throw me under the bridge
Throw me under the bridge and I'll burn it
I'll swallow you whole

and if they do...

**Originally written on May 1, 2009

Bed bugs bite

they crawl and I fight

to keep them from keeping me

from sleeping at night

they bite like a snake

till I turn and I shake

filled with sleep-stealing venom

which will keep me awake

though I pray and I beg

while I lay in my bed

not a thing will remove

thoughts of these bugs from my head

So I itch and I scratch

until my skin starts to rash

their mere presence enough

to make me envy a car crash

Not a thing to protect

my sleep or my neck

so I stare at the ceiling

with my thoughts to collect

Wish these bugs would erase

disappear into space

or at least that there was something

or someone keeping me safe

This Guy's got Jokes.

**Originally written on March 5, 2009.

A sixteen year old kid walks into a clothing store...

Sort of a unique way to start out an interesting anecdote, eh? Usually it's a pirate, a preacher or a black guy, and usually it is at a bar. I think if you are going to try and tell a joke with expectations of really being able to crack up the crowd, you should start it out more believably with a character they can relate to.

He walks in and heads straight to the counter, but on his way he is greeted by a salesman...

So far so good right? Like, you can picture all of this, can't you? You have to make sure that your audience can imagine the scenario when they close their eyes and think about it if you really want to knock 'em dead once you hit the punchline.

The salesman walks up to him, and he says "Lookin' for some new jeans?"...

People can relate to this part, ya know? Like...who doesn't hate that annoying salesperson who automatically assumes you want his help? It's the "funny because it's true" aspect. People love to hear that in a good joke.

The kid explains to him that he has just come in to talk to the manager as he has applied to work their as a salesperson himself and wanted a chance to meet him...

Not the funniest part of the joke...but you know, without specific details you may lose the listener before you get to the good part, so make sure you keep the picture crisp in their minds.

The salesperson takes him to the manager and they shake hands and set up an interview...

We're almost at the good part! I promise. Just hold in there, keep your delivery strong and if you feel like you are losing the audience than be sure to emphasize the few words just before the punchline so as to tip them off that the laughs are about to take over!

After the interview, the kid gets hired, and he actually believes that this job will hold for him a future and that with time, it will offer him an opportunity to move forward in the company!

....

What?! You didn't think that was funny? I mean, I did everything right! I timed it perfect, I didn't skip any details...so what is the problem?

Hm. I guess that just since I think it is hilarious in reflection, doesn't mean that it is worthy of becoming a joke that I tell my friends...

Anyway, 2 and a half years, three managers, and a 25 cent raise later, here I am. 2 or 3 hours more a week than I got when I was that ignorant little bastard from the joke. It really is funny just how much one can allow themselves to actually believe that a place of work cares about them as a person. Or at least it is funny how much I did.

I am not fired nor quitting. I merely feel trapped. Like an unfortunate bystander of a long and drawn out joke, I feel completely and utterly trapped with no hint of the punchline in sight. I already committed to standing here and listening to the god damn thing, so I can't very well just walk out in the middle of it. I just wish whoever was telling it would hurry up and finish, so that I can throw them a courtesy-laugh and be on my way.

The Heartbreak Kid is Trapped in Your Extended Network

**Originally written on July 2, 2008.

What I'm reading is a sixty-something question survey posted as a bulletin on myspace by someone who I know close to nothing about. You would think that this means once I'm done reading I will suddenly know something more about this person...or at least you would think that this is my intent. Truth is, this has just become a way for me to bore myself into potentially catching some sleep. It is really incredible how much the internet has to offer and yet how little good it actually provides for anyone.

What I'm thinking is I wish it didn't take learning Emily Emoticon's preference on pops in order to find myself sleeping comfortably. There is just something about the unbelievable lack of effort that people put into survey after survey on these websites that is really soothing to a fellow like myself. I guess it's just knowing that honestly nobody else's life is any better than mine that helps me forget about my own problems. You would think if you were bored enough to fill out a personal questionnaire filled with questions about yourself and post it for the public that you might actually put some time and thought into the answers. The reality, however, is that half the time when reading these things all you see is "yes" or "no" or "I don't know" or "maybe". I mean, shoot, if this is the best they can do, then it must mean that nobodies life is any more exciting or unique than mine...and for some reason I find comfort in that.

What I'm wearing is a look of disinterest. A pair of half-open eyes that are dark to match my aura...whatever the fuck that is. I hit refresh in hopes to find something interesting and all I see is Franky Facebook's newest post about how some bitch who got capped when she was pregnant is going to haunt me if I don't repost this quicker than I can even take a breathe. Is this how people entertain themselves these days? Via internet superstition and a desire to be immortal...well, immortal, that is, until ten more people post bulletins about finding your true love and getting free applebee's coupons? Then again, I guess it isn't much better when you entertain yourself at their expense, full knowing their lack of effort and still reading their ramblings despite it. The internet is a brilliant thief who steals time from them thus stealing it from me in a vicious cycle of attempting to be entertained and still coming up short. After all, when was the last time anyone said "I wish this survey would never end" or "I can't wait to see what Jimmy posts tonight!"? No matter what end you're on, the internet is fucking boring and yet somehow in modern society it is our main source of everything from art to orgasms to whatever else we are too numb and lazy to experience in person. Fuck you Tom. Not even you can take the time to change your god damn default picture you lazy fucking bastard.

What I'm asking myself is if I am a part of this. "Yes." What I'm trying to figure out is if I am actually enjoying myself. "No." What I can't understand is if I am aware of it why I don't hold myself to a higher standard. "I don't know." Will I ever do anything about it? "Maybe."

Who I am on Myspace is almost representative of who I wish I really was in real life. Sure, the outline is there and what you see on the page is what you get to some extent in person, but when you look at me living do you see the exact same thing that you see when you click 5 friends down your top list and find yourself redirected to my page? I may be a straight caucasian capricorn who is slender, in a relationship, and making less than $30,000 a year, but would you know the truth about me if you talked to me in person the way that you believe you do through reading my blogs? I mean, just because I have a picture of Jesus under my heroes section doesn't mean you'd ever know I even care about him without it. My mood may indeed inform you that I am feeling quixotic (which I still can't define) but in actuality I may be feeling quite the contrary.

What I'm realizing is how much this all makes sense. If you had somewhere to go where you didn't have to be yourself and the most you had to worry about was whether you're latest friend request got accepted or not, you'd leave in a second. And you probably do every day several times a day. I do. It's really funny how much people always tend to have in common with those that disgust them the most.

What I'm wearing is a tired, yet hopeful look of ambition. My eyes are still dark yet now Im feeling sorely mismatched. I'm thinking about shopping around for something with a little more truth on the sleeves than what I am wearing right now. Maybe tomorrow I will call one of the 161 less friends that I have in person than I do on Myspace and do something before work.

What I'm doing is signing off. What I'm hoping for is REM. What I'm least concerned about is talking to whoever else is conveniently signed on. What I'm doing tomorrow is...undetermined.

Now repost this in the next 60 seconds or else you will not find true love for at least sixty days.

Jealous Time

**Originally written on February 27, 2008.

I can't compete with a clock.

In the ongoing race between me and the minute hand it seems that I always come up short. This is not to mention the fact that it is smarter than me and it knows it. Somehow, daily, it manages to pull the wool over my eyes and at the end of the night it sits and it laughs. Never underestimate the mind games that an inanimate object can play.

Tick Tock. I suppose if I were to set the clock to the wrong time then maybe that would give me an edge. Tick. Then it would be me laughing at how the clock is wrong and there is nothing it can do about it. Tock. Then again, tick, I would be left wondering what time it really was, tock, thus making the clock the better man. Tick, it seems like it has been forever now tock that time has been mocking me, tick, steering me in the wrong direction tock and always being one step ahead of me. Sometimes I will think that I have it, tick, and right as I am about to claim victory, tock, it will escape me, tick, ticking faster than it has in the past, tock, or so it will convince me.

Time is manipulative. It uses me on a regular basis the way that no person has ever been able to. Constantly it convinces me that it is my friend and that it can be trusted and the moment I give it that trust it just betrays me and laughs in my face. Time is power hungry. Time is selfish.

I think that it is time for me to put time in it's place and get a hold of myself. I've got a lot of living to do before it is too late and in the process I will be no clock's bitch.

Untitled

**Originally written on November 3, 2007.

If you're just dust that's blowing in the wind
then with eyes wide open I'll stand facing it
clear my hair from my face, gladly embracing it
my tear gland praying that you'll find a place in it
blurring my sight and erasing it

and though everything looks blurred and weary
I can see, that I've never before seen so clearly
and though squinting, I can say sincerely
that I'll take the pain just so long as you're near me

Clothes Vs. Character

**Originally written on August 27, 2007

"You know, if you don't have the money today, we have a convenient and easy layaway program that will allow you to put cash down now and finish paying later. At least that way you know for sure that no one will be coming in and buying your jeans before you get a chance to. Afterall, you may not have it right now, but you can certainly come up with enough in the next couple of months can't you? And you wouldn't want to be walking down the street sometime next month and see someone else wearing your perfect pair of 27 X 33's would you? That's what I thought, now will you be putting that deposit down with cash or credit?"

Working in retail you learn some really nice recipes for bullshitting the bejesus out of people. Don't get me wrong, just because you're really good at convincing people to buy what you tell them doesn't mean that you have to be untruthful. I personally believe completely in the product that I am selling. It is just my job to make sure that you feel good about your purchase, and with some people doing so is going to require a certain amount of extra persuasive pushing.

"If you're really having that hard of a time making a decision between the two pairs, why not just buy them both? I mean, if you think about it, you are dealing with some really high-quality denim here. Both of these jeans are going to last you for a long time. Much longer than something you'll get at that other place. Really, picking up both pairs today will just save you an extra trip to the mall in the future when your pair from the store across the hall wears out on you. So why don't you go ahead and look for some tops while I take the winning couple pairs to the front counter?"

As a result of this gift of convincing gab being a job requirement of mine, I think that I have developed a sixth-sense of being able to decipher the difference between being sold to and when someone is actually being genuine to me. It is just whether this is a blessing or a curse that I find myself wondering. Sometimes I almost wish that I could just not know when someone is putting on an act with me, because with some things it just seems that ignorance is truly bliss.

"It looks like we don't have your size in the store. What I can do for you though is see if we can special order it for you. This will cost an additional five dollar shipping fee, but we will have it sent straight to your house. It will be almost as if we are hand-delivering it straight to your living room!"

To be more specific, I think that I have become most specialized in knowing when someone is being sincere in their kind gestures towards me and when they are just probably going to talk badly about me the second I turn my back. Well, maybe not necessarily talk behind my back, but at least totally change their tone when they are around someone else. The thing that frustrates me most about all of it I guess is that being a salesman myself, I actually tell people the truth about the product that is being presented to them. Afterall, if they decide they regret their decision, and find themselves waiting in line with their receipts in hand and the word "return" stamped on their forehead, it is I who will be reaping the consequences as the cost of the return will be taken out of my paycheck. The fact of the matter is that telling a woman with a 32 waist that the 29's look good just because it is the last pair and you don't want to lose the sale is not going to do you any good. You may have them fooled long enough for them to give in, and buy into the act, but eventually they will come to see the truth and it is only going to come back to bite you in the butt after a while.

"To be honest with you, I would rather just wait until we get the bigger size in. While you may have been really set on coming in and buying something today, I just think it would pay off in the long run if you didn't jump the gun on this one. What I would like to do for you though, is take down your name and phone number, and when we get something in your size and fit, either myself or one of my teammates will give you a call and maybe you'll have more luck the next time around. Oh and by the way, don't worry if I'm not here next time you come in. Just let someone else that works here know what you're looking for and they will be equally glad to help you as I was."

Sleep Walking

**Originally written on August 19, 2007

Finally, some night time rain. Hopefully this means that tonight my body will finally experience some REM. I can't explain it, and I wish it wasn't like this, but it seems that for the last few years of my life I have been unable to get a real night's sleep without the gentle pitter patter of the probably polluted precipitation of the peaceful downriver area.

Sometimes I will almost reach that deeply desired deep sleep state if the city outside my window appears, from the sound of things anyway, to be unrested. By time I finally reach anything deep enough for a dream however, I just find myself staring into sunshine, as I have never done anything to fix the broken blinds above my window. Now I am awake, praying that maybe tonight there will be some showers to soothe my senses and send me to sleep.

I am sleep walking anymore I suppose. Being as I certainly don't seem to ever get any rest lying down. This is not to mention the fact that by time the day is finished I find myself racking my brain, struggling to perfectly piece together the happenings of the day I'd had before me. Everything I do just feels so opaque, and distant these days. It's like when you wake up from a dream. You know for sure that you knew at one point exactly what you were doing in this fantasy filled coma, but now that you're back in the real world, it's as if your mind has lost all need to actually remember what took place, because in real life, what happens in your dreams is completely irrelevant. As a result of this, all that is left is the faint notion, and if you're lucky a vague memory, that you had in fact experienced a dream at all.

Night time is too quiet for me. It leaves way too much room for me to be alone with my thoughts. It is for this exact reason that I seem to almost never get any sleep unless it is by the sound of rain above my roof. Interestingly enough, this is also the same reason that nothing ever feels tangible to me unless it is something I experience while in my sleep. I guess that knowing this about myself I am just going to have to pray that I never have a dream about getting eaten by sharks. Or maybe just having a heart attack. Really a dream about dying at all scares me. It may sound paranoid, and maybe it is, but if someone can experience life only through the times in which they are sleeping, then it might not be so crazy to think that this person could be immortal unless taken out while in their dreams.

Afternoon Drive

What is it about a good drive that can really help you to meditate, and put things into perspective? Is it the uncertainty of destination? Is it the quality alone time? Most realistically it is probably just the sheer fact that you are away from everything and everyone and since you aren't sure just exactly where you are going, there is no way in hell that anyone else can possibly know where to come looking for you.

If you ask me, there is nothing better than an aimless trip around town. Really, all you have to worry about is keeping your eye on the road and keeping out of accident's way. Driving carelessly around the city, life around you becomes a blur. Everything is yellow lines and greenish clouds that would become trees if you would only hit the brakes. The chaotic sound of horns and radios. The overwhelming smell of engine exhaust and fast food restaurants. Yep, out on the road, not a thing can hurt me. It is only me and my thoughts. Oh, and if I'm lucky, a car wreck. Or maybe someone getting a ticket. Really even just seeing someone with their hazards on will do for now. You see, no one ever admits to it, but it is times like these that really get you feeling better about yourself. Being able to actually capture that moment where for just the three seconds that it takes for you to pass them, these people are undoubtedly having a worse day than you. It's moments like these that enlighten you. It is this very type of situation that finally gets you thinking clearly.

Aside from the pros of aimless soul steering, there is one thing that can really ruin this chance at automotive enlightenment. This would of course have to be stormy weather. Right? Nah. To be perfectly honest, I can only pray that it will be pouring out at exactly the time that Joe Schmoe pops his hood. The fact that not only is Johnny Cadillac's car messed up, but he's getting soaking wet to boot, only solidifies the fact that my life is better than his. Well, at least for that moment it is anyway. If there is one thing that can really keep your eyes off of these mood-mending martyrs of the road, however, it is a blinding ray of sunshine. Cars these days have moisture activated windshield wipers and they can even park themselves for you, you would think that by now they would find a way to make those god damn sun visors a little bit more effective.

Lately it feels as if I am stuck in autopilot, driving down the freeway with the sun burning my eyes. My car is stuck in drive and there is no stopping until it runs out of gas. Of course I had to go and fill up before taking this trip so things won't be slowing down for a little while. It seems that all I can do from here is try to stay aware of my surroundings, even if I can't see a fucking thing anymore. Hopefully it will be getting dark out soon. At least then even if I am stuck in this stupid car, totally unsure of where I am going to end up, I will be able to see what the hell is happening. At least then I will know for sure that I won't be the one to crash. At least then I can rest assured that I won't find myself on the other end of the spectrum, brightening someone else's day with my misfortune.