This is what I think.

 

I have decided that the #realshit is not good for my #brand, so from here on out I will be 100 percent more indifferent to all of you and, additionally, to my own life on here.
Up next: 300 GIF’s of the David Tyree catch!

I have decided that the #realshit is not good for my #brand, so from here on out I will be 100 percent more indifferent to all of you and, additionally, to my own life on here.

Up next: 300 GIF’s of the David Tyree catch!

(Source: vondell-txt)

On Priorities.

I had a dream last night that I had just touched down in Athens en route to a glamorous Hellenic vacation, complete with all that entails. It was so vivid, it was one of those dreams where I woke up thinking I had woken up there, in Greece somewhere, ready for beautiful weather and beaches and wine and endless food. So you can imagine the disappointment when it sunk in after about 2 minutes that it was my couch in Medford I’d woken up on.

But then, I remembered that our softball championship is tomorrow and this would’ve been terrible timing for a vacation anyway, because I’m practical about these things. Relief swept over me.

Life’s about the small victories.

Really doing Big Things on my Labor Day Evening.

Really doing Big Things on my Labor Day Evening.

I see comments like this sometimes and my visceral reaction is “LOL, YEAH FUCKING RIGHT. EVERYONE IS HORRIBLE AND SUPERFICIAL.”
After I think about it a bit, I realize I’m sort of projecting, because everyone is sort of superficial. It’s just my own personal bias that bothers me, that brings that reaction. You gotta be attracted to somebody, but you’ve gotta be attracted to the whole of somebody. And therein lies my cynicism. I want to believe someone is going to be into the mismatched mess that makes up my persona, but I don’t think that’s really possible.
At worst, I’ve frankly been led on/lied to/played with/rejected/laughed at enough that I don’t think it’s really possible for that feeling to be legitimately possible and mutual with somebody. I’ve gone on dates recently, and even the ones that weren’t train wrecks with horribly uninteresting or insane people just brought about this feeling of “What the fuck am I doing here?”. I’ve become so guarded that I just didn’t care. Like a baseball team that got too old for this shit, the championship window has slammed shut.
There are times I really want to believe, and then I really think about this, and I just don’t anymore. So it goes. I’ve got to come to grips with that, but I only wish in the meantime the occasional melancholy would GTFO because I have a career and a life, and I don’t need it.
(I’m actually doing OK, now, for those wondering - just had some thought vomit.)

I see comments like this sometimes and my visceral reaction is “LOL, YEAH FUCKING RIGHT. EVERYONE IS HORRIBLE AND SUPERFICIAL.”

After I think about it a bit, I realize I’m sort of projecting, because everyone is sort of superficial. It’s just my own personal bias that bothers me, that brings that reaction. You gotta be attracted to somebody, but you’ve gotta be attracted to the whole of somebody. And therein lies my cynicism. I want to believe someone is going to be into the mismatched mess that makes up my persona, but I don’t think that’s really possible.

At worst, I’ve frankly been led on/lied to/played with/rejected/laughed at enough that I don’t think it’s really possible for that feeling to be legitimately possible and mutual with somebody. I’ve gone on dates recently, and even the ones that weren’t train wrecks with horribly uninteresting or insane people just brought about this feeling of “What the fuck am I doing here?”. I’ve become so guarded that I just didn’t care. Like a baseball team that got too old for this shit, the championship window has slammed shut.

There are times I really want to believe, and then I really think about this, and I just don’t anymore. So it goes. I’ve got to come to grips with that, but I only wish in the meantime the occasional melancholy would GTFO because I have a career and a life, and I don’t need it.

(I’m actually doing OK, now, for those wondering - just had some thought vomit.)

For laughs, what if I made an online dating profile that sent this as the introductory message to every woman within 50 miles… #Vonnegut

For laughs, what if I made an online dating profile that sent this as the introductory message to every woman within 50 miles… #Vonnegut

This Is How You Break

You go from being a shy person with crushes that never go anywhere, to a slightly less shy person that has crushes that blow up in your face, to a even less shy person that “doesn’t get too wrapped up in one person!” and gets used repeatedly, to the same kind of person that goes and dates and literally stops giving a shit, to the kind of person that stops giving a shit about everything.

Everything happens for a reason. God bless.

Hey guys.

Who are some Cool Blogs to follow?

Here is really the only thing of note I’ve written recently that didn’t involve demanding money from a lawyer. I just love this song so doggone much I had to reblog it. I am hoping to write another piece soon the next time I feel wistful about a musical muse from my youth.

teenageguide:

"Enjoy the Silence," Depeche Mode

First off, it seems worthwhile to preface that “Enjoy the Silence” might be about Depeche Mode lead singer Dave Gahan’s near-fatal heroin addiction. A lazy and inadequate Google search yields no conclusive interview or proof one way or another aside from internet comments citing unspecified interviews with Gahan, so if somebody could point me in their direction, by all means do. Taking the song’s phraseology literally, it’s not hard to come to that conclusion. It is, after all, the drug you literally put in your arms.

It’s also true that a projection of one person’s demons could affect someone else in a profoundly different way. That’s what art does, of course. While the song itself, without any further background, is easiest to view as a tribute to a silent embrace with a lover, the video always painted a different view to me, and not one that necessarily had anything to do with drug use, either. 

Here in the video, after the customary black-and-white intro (Depeche Mode loved black and white), we see Dave Gahan dressed as royalty. But he’s a lonesome king. In fact, the entire video is shots of Gahan ceaselessly wandering various visually appealing locales, bereft of any other human contact, with a lawn chair. It’s not flashy. It’s not action packed. But I always found it relatable.

Really, aren’t we all King Gahan at some point? Wandering around the world with a lawn chair, looking to set down somewhere until we find some peace from the voices inside and outside our heads? That place could be something different for everyone. Maybe it’s a lover’s arms, maybe it’s a lawn chair in the middle of some idyllic plain. Whatever it is, many of us struggle to find it, and maybe for Gahan and others that’s what leads one into the throes of addiction.

Enjoy the silence. —Tino Evangelou

Sorry Long Island OKC, you just lost your most interesting and unique snowflake for probably the 15th time.
And I totally burned you BAD on the way out LOL!!!

Sorry Long Island OKC, you just lost your most interesting and unique snowflake for probably the 15th time.

And I totally burned you BAD on the way out LOL!!!

Any time I’m at a book party or reading, and soccer comes up in conversation, I find myself surrounded by young men in shabby-genteel, loosely fitting tweed jackets gushing over the Gunners,” Ms. Schaap said. “In such settings, being an Arsenal supporter is even more predictable than having an M.F.A. or a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

Never Forget

rapunzelie:

chocolatemermaidya:

rapunzelie:

do you ever feel like there’s just so many pretty girls but most dudes are just subpar like there are radiant goddesses everywhere and just piles and piles of guys in backwards baseball caps and sandals

it’s called makeup

you can put eyeliner on a frat boy that doesn’t change the fact that’s he’s wearing a neon muscle shirt and nike flip flops

Missed you tumblr, some really strong debate here on the issues.

I’d ask you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet. But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn’t know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms “visiting hours” don’t apply to you. You don’t know about real loss, ‘cause it only occurs when you’ve loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you… I don’t see an intelligent, confident man… I see a cocky, scared shitless kid.

No matter how much of a cold-hearted bastard I become, this monologue (and really this entire movie) will always get to me. Farewell, Mr. Williams.

It’s absolutely ridiculous. I MUST have it.

Millennials And Me

Lately, I’ve been thinking of writing a big Generational Thoughtpiece on My Generation, The Millennials. It’ll be a sober, thought-out self-analysis of my peers and I. First, I’ll start with a blistering take on how the poor economy and limited career opportunities have stunted or redefined the transition into what was traditionally considered “adulthood”, followed by a look into the economic depressant that is student loan debt that kind of trails off without any real ideas on how to solve it.

I’ll then take a look at how we cope with our surroundings - our sexual habits (we are the first group of people in the history of the world to enjoy fucking each other, it turns out), our drinking habits (screenshots of thousands of tumblr posts here), our music and fashion, and then top if off with a backhanded complement about how in tune with new technology we are while wondering if it has hurt the creation of meaningful interpersonal relationships and made us self-indulgent narcissists.

Did I hit everything? I think I hit everything. I think it’ll be really hot and original and really blow the lid off the many mysteries surrounding us that I don’t think anyone has really tried to explain yet. Maybe the New York Times would even pick it up. Imagine that!