Below are the 18 most recent journal entries recorded in Darkflounder's LiveJournal:

Sunday, November 2nd, 2003
3:37 am	reality..... What is reality? I think it's a state of mind that opposes what you want. See, nothing is real. I'm real, I think, but nothing else is. Just ask Patrick Hocksetter. I'm not trying to say I'm of some great importance or anything, but I'm stuck with my thoughts until the day I die, and even though you can tell me something, do I really know what you're thinking? You have the power to lie to me. I can't lie to myself. I can try, but I always catch myself. If I can't fully trust something, how can it be real? Hmmmm... meditate on this I will. Let's expand on the lying aspect. What constitutes a lie? How should I react when I discover I've been lied to? Well, since I've established that I can trust absolutely nothing I don't see the point in considering what may or may not be a lie(my logic makes for a great discussion, eh?) Since I've fully destroyed the expansion on lying, at least from my end, let's switch to something else. "Reality is a state of mind that opposes what you want."(I never know whether to put the period inside the fucking quotation or on the outside. Things like this keep me up at night. Fuck.) Does this mean that people who have gone insane get what they want, or does it mean that people who have gotten what they desired have lost touch with reality? If we go on the belief that my prior quotation is correct, does it mean our achievements are not reality? If so, why bother? If I catch myself lying to myself, does it mean I can't trust myself? I think that if I catch myself in a lie to myself, then there are other lies that have snuck by. If so, than not even I am real(Hmmm, transitive philosophy? Is that real?). There is no reality. Fuck it. (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 18th, 2003
4:02 am	by the way..... Today is the nine year mark for finding Angela Garcia murdered. I'm going to the cemetery today..... Haven't been there in a couple of years. I bet I have to dig around it and pull a bunch of overgrown weeds from the edges just to see her name. Her fucking family never goes.... Her memory, though it has grown vague in my mind now, will live on until the day I die..... Going to drink some bacardi tonight, and maybe smoke some djarums. Maybe I'll quit smoking after that. It's about time. Fuck it. (Comment on this)
3:37 am	funny..... I went over to a friends house tonight and played Josh's bass on his guitar amp. I need to practice. I drank five honey browns while I played, also. Caught a decent buzz. Anyway, the point is that I went to a little diner around the corner from Ed's place on my way home. Wanted to kill some time, drink some coffee. There was this chick sitting in front of me, facing away. She looked kind of cute from the back. I could tell she was writing something, but I couldn't tell what. Remember, I was kinda buzzed. I started a conversation with her, which, as you all know, isn't what I'm known for. Anyway, she invited me to sit with her for a moment and talk. Anyway, I sit down and the first thing I noticed was that thinking she was cute from the back was a grave error. I'll blame the beer for that. The second thing I noticed was the fucking lesions on her face. Highly unfortuneate situation. Now I'm sitting across from her, trying not to stare at the lesions while she tells me about how she works at victoria secrets(absolute bullshit). Of course I'm not the kind of person who'll kick a dog while its sleeping, but holy shit. She goes on about how she's a borderline genius(lie), and how her daughter is the best in her class. Meanwhile, I'm thinking about how to gracefully exit the conversation(just get up and leave, you stupid fuck!!!). Anyway, long story short, after a few minutes the real story comes out. Apparently, she was walking with some guy she didn't know(another lie), and the police just pulled up out of the blue. The guy she didn't know apparently had crack on him, and she got blamed(this fucking sob story just breaks my heart) for it. Anyway, then she tells me about how she's out on parole and got scared that they were going to break her parole. She then confides that she took them on a drug bust to get out of it, and then she took them to another house on top of that. She's scared to go home because the people she busted will know it's her. She then proceeds to tell me she has moral dilemas about what she has done, and wants my advice. I told her to go home and sleep for twelve hours and not to worry about it(she really should be scared for her fucking life), and to go get a bag when she wakes up(if she does). Anyway, she then proceeded to ask me for a ride home, and as much as I wanted to tell her to fuck herself, I gave her a ride home. She then gave me her number(which I threw out the window shortly after dropping her off) and told me to call her if I wanted a "date"(prostitution for those of you who are slow). Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather stick my dick in a blender. Probably safer. Anyway, I don't really know why I wrote this out, but isn't it a lot more interesting than me whining about Sandy? (Comment on this)
Friday, October 17th, 2003
6:54 pm	life sucks..... There comes a time when you just have to say "What the fuck." The time is now, now is the time. Anyway, I've come to grips with the fact that my wife & I are not together anymore. The redundancy of my journals has to bore all who read it. Oh well, they whould start getting interesting as I get through life. We could all be very good friends through this. We'll get to know each other. The beauty of it all is, I can be anywhere, anytime. Infinite possibilities. Infinite opportunity. When in doubt, whip it out, hehe. Anyhow, Josh loaned me his bass today. I'm planning on practicing up and maybe getting one of my own. I played a regular guitar (minus the high "e" string) at a friends house last weekend. Apparently they all thought I was decent. They just haven't heard Bob Wright play is all. Anyway, the first thing I'm gonna learn is Anesthesia. I'm looking forward to it. I can see it now, finally up on stage, making a tribute to Cliff on Sept. 6th. I'm going to learn the Lemon song also. Then I'll have one of my life-goals accomplished. Another is to get a PhD in mathematics before I die. The rest I'll figure out as I go. Anyway, I'm working at the pizza place right now & the drunks are starting to call. I gotta go. Later. (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 11th, 2003
6:34 pm	disgusted with self..... I went back and reread my last few journals concerning my wife. I feel like I let myself down. The utter insanity of it all. I can't believe I went from loving her to hating her so quickly. What right did I have to think I could decide whether or not to destroy her life? When it all comes down to the end and we're standing in the clearing at the end of the path we all answer to the maker. I don't quite know what I believe for religion, but I definitely feel there will be a reckoning. Granted, what she did was wrong. I did a few things wrong myself. The biggest mistake was staying with her for as long as I did. We could have ended it in a civil fashion a couple of years ago. Our relationship has been destroyed. There is no possibility of friendship. Fuck it. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 2nd, 2003
9:07 pm	pissed.... Well, I typed a few paragraphs but when I went to update it lost it. So, the long and short of it is fuck her, the fucking whore. -later (Comment on this)
Saturday, August 23rd, 2003
8:00 pm	worst(or best, depending on your point of view) story yet... Well, I realize it's been a while since I updated, but things have been so fucked lately it's not a high priority. My wife & I are getting a divorce. For real this time. Then I have to decide whether or not to destroy her life(destroying mine in the process, also) or let her live in her own private hell. If not, I will carry this anger/hatred for the rest of my life. I will tell the story and let you judge: About 8 weeks ago, she put her picture/profile up on an atkins diet site to make a few friends and get a support group, or so she said. She got lots of e-mails from guys wanting to fuck, but one in particular she answered and they became e-mail pals. after a week or so she started using yahoo messenger to talk up to 10 hours a day, and then there were phone calls. The most ridiculous part is that one weekend she disappeard friday morning and came back sunday night. She was absolutely fucking stupid and used a credit card in ohio, so it blew her lie all to hell. I also found e-mails from this guy saying "I love you" and one that she sent him saying "We're in love, yay!". She did a background check on him and sent it to jay(previously described as "piece of shit"), who also kept it from me. I found out about all these things when she was gone for the weekend tryst. obviously she drove down to north carolina to meet him, which is where he is from. I know this is kind of jumping around, but fuck it. you get the idea. I found out she was talking to him about a week before she went down, but I figured fuck it, because we were pretty much done anyway. I have to leave with my debt ($28,000), and she's keeping most of the shit. I'm not really happy about this, but I can pay my debt off in about 1 1/2 yrs if I work 70 hrs a week or so with my two jobs. 2 yrs if I have a little fun now and then. If I stayed with her, I'd never get out of debt. This is for the best. Now, I have to let you know why she has done this to me, in her words. You can decide if it's fact or fiction: We started off really great. I talked to her after she became my girlfriend, and the world took on new meaning and I felt alive for the first time in my life. I was three weeks away from 23 and I finally had my first girlfriend. I was ecstatic. I grew to love her to death. I started working at my current job after about 4 months. she supported me the first four months. I devoted most of my paycheck to her each week as a way of returning the favor. she worked for her dad, who paid her house payment each month(it was in his name), and she made 11/hr. I was making about 200 wk. Her dad gave her a company american express and she ran up the bills on it so much that she usually had to sign over her checks to him to pay for it, plus most of mine. THat meant we started the month out current on the amer/expres, but had no money for food/entertainment/gas. she kept using the fucking card every month for dinner, movies, fun. I was having a good time too, but I kept telling her to stop running it up, let's just take it easy for a while until we can pay cash for things. She told me she had lived like a piece of shit for the eight years she was married to her first husband, and she was getting the spending out of her system. this was the start of our problems, now that I look back. We usually paid our shit late, and never had two dimes to rub together. sometimes she would spend more in a month than we made, and eventually we got two months behind on the american express. Her dad's company was in some trouble, and she started taking on extra work in the form of subpoena's and court filings. He had paid a lease for a dakota in '98, and the lease was up and it was time to turn it in. she was supposed to only put 40,000 miles on it, and she had racked up about 60,000 on the odometer, plus we had pulled the fuse batch and racked up an extra 10,000 on it with a dead dashboard. I think they fixed that on the newer models. She couldn't pay the extra money, so she talked me into buying it so we wouldn't have to. The problem was, she only changed the oil about 3 times in all 70,000 miles, and the engine blew about 6 months after we bought it. I was 25. She started applying to credit cards for me, and I accepted all I could because I thought it would help my credit. she racked them up to max as soon as I got it in the mail. Dinner, movies, new furniture, yard stuff, clothes, shit like that. We got married shortly after. We had gotten a dodge ram to replace the dakota. I didn't want it, but she threw a fucking temper tantrum and I relented. WEll, I have to go now. I will complete this another time. I was giving a background on our history, then I will tell you all the shitty(in her words) things I did to her. Later. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, June 20th, 2003
7:26 pm	depressed... Just went to the engineering community and read down the first page. ....realizing how much I don't know & that I'm not going to learn it any time soon..... (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 31st, 2003
6:55 pm	Hello all. Want to tell you about Memorial weekend. Seems I did more in 5 days then I have in the last 5 months. One of the highlights was riding a motorcycle for the first time in 17 years. I felt like a dick about it, though. We were in a cemetery behind a buddies house in Jackson, and business was hopping. I only had one incident where I almost simutaneously took out a minivan and a headstone. Other than that, it was a lot of fun. Met up with a lot of people I hadn't seen in a while. My aunt came up and spent the night one night, and I had the joy of watching her view AOTC for the first time. I think I've seen that movie about 30 times since christmas. I went to the cemetery where my dad's buried. Hadn't been there for a while. My grandma & grandpa are buried about 200 feet away, also. Then we drove to Battle Creek to see the wifes' grandmas' grave. It's at Fort Custer, which is for military servicemen & their wives. There were hundreds of flags lining the driveway in, and each plot had a tiny flag on it, also. It was very nice. We walked back to a lookout they put in there (it overlooked a swamp, but it was a very nice swamp), and while we were sitting there(smoking one) a couple deer ran past. They never saw us, so they were prancing around having fun. Very cool. I also managed to see Bruce Almighty. Well, congrats are in order for Matt & Kristen. Good luck with all the fun you have ahead of you. Josh's brother just had a child at the end of last year, and he said all the things you need to do just come naturally, and there is lots of help from many sources. Any help I can be, just let me know. Oh yeah, I don't know if I put it in a journal or not, but one of the guys at work wanted me to kill a tree next to his church so he could plant a garden there. He called a buddy who was a botanist and found out how much of a specific drug was needed to actually kill it, but the lady that planted it 50 years ago lives across the street from the church, so he couldn't do it himself. Also, the police station is right next to the church. I told him my price, and he drew a sketch. He wanted to wait for the next committee meeting before I did anything, but they decided to get rid of the tree anyway. Oh well, I probably would have got caught drilling the hole in it anyway. That's the way Darkflounder luck goes. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 13th, 2003
9:15 pm	Life sucks..... I've always thought if you tried to laugh things off they would get better. Maybe kick back and burn one while watching Attack of the Clones, or situate yourself in front of the playstation and play Tekken for a few hours. When you get done, you usually feel better. When all else fails, get drunk. This technique has worked for me for years. As I get older, though, I feel as if these things are a waste of time. Sure, I feel better on half a fifth, but the pain in my stomach for the next three days offsets the immediate benefits of a mini-bender. What I'm trying to say is that laughter isn't coming easy these days. I've got problems with my jobs, problems with my house, problems at home, problems with my cars and, of course, the bill problem. The job problem is the easiest to fix, and time will take care of the bill problem. (I don't think I've used the same word in two sentences as much as I have just now, ever) I don't mean to be a whiney little bitch, but fuck. Darkflounder (bad)luck is unparalleled. If something bad can happen to Darkflounder, Darkflounder will have something bad happen to him. On a good note, however, Darkflounder got to go see a machine he designed half of the stations on. Fucking things look different on paper than they do in real life. Anyway, I was feeling a little better after writing it all out, but I received a phone call from my wife a few moments ago. For this next part to make sense, I'll have to delve into the past. It all started fourth of july weekend of 2001. We had been married for about 9 months at this time, and we were fighting a lot. Mostly stupid shit not even worth fighting about, but we were on each others nerves pretty good. Anyway, she was working a safety job that closed down at midnight on july 3rd. I happened to be hanging out with my best friend at home. Another good friend of mine was separated from his wife, and happened to be drunk at his parents house. She called to let me know she was going to pick him up on her way back, and I just said come on by after that. She said she wasn't coming home. I said "What? Come here after you get him." She said okay, but didn't come home for a day and a half. What a start to our marriage, eh? Somehow we managed to work through it, but my "friend" started hanging around a little too much. I'd leave for school, and he'd show up. I'd go to my second job, he'd show up. If I fell asleep, he'd show up. It got to the point where I'd pull in the driveway after work and he'd be sitting there, waiting for us to get home. I allowed it to go on for a year, mainly because he was going through a divorce and needed support, but a year to the day, july 3rd 2002, me and the wife decided to go down to indiana for some fireworks. We hit the road and immediately she started in on how my "friend" wanted to go with us. I said no, of course, but she just kept nagging until I finally said ok. We met up with him on the way down, and they started drinking beer and liquor after a short stop at the store. He proceeded to get so drunk he couldn't talk, and then started throwing the empties out onto i-94 as I was driving. I was so pissed by the time we got back, I told him not to come by again, ever. The wife then proceeded to talk me into letting him come by if he didn't drink(he's a terrible alcoholic), but of course over time he was back at drinking again. I'd come home to him drunk/passed out on my couch every fucking night. I reached my breaking point, and left my wife. It lasted for a month, then we decided to try working things out. My mandatory agreement was that my "friend" was never in my prescence again. I don't even call him by his name anymore. I won't tell what I do call him for politically correctiveness, but for purposes of this journal I'll call him "piece of shit", henceforth pos. The wife, of course, wasn't willing to give up her only friend, who's her "best" friend now. So I allow her to hang out with him when I'm at work. Some would say that's fucked-up, that I should only allow them to hang out while I'm there, but I feel I work too fucking hard to have pos hanging around when I do have the luxury of being home. If she's fuckin' him, she's fuckin' him. I made a choice to believe her when she says she's not, and that means I have to trust her with him. Sorry about the long intro to the current issue. Especially for those of you who already know the story and lived it through me as it was happening. Darkflounder will try not to bore you again. For a while, anyway. Now I can get to what the phone call was about. My truck has been overheating for a while now, and I know the problem is the thermostat. I actually have a new thermostat, seal, permatex #2, and two bottles of xerex anti-freeze on the front seat of my truck as I write. Unfortuneately, I haven't had time to change it, working nonstop day after day. Usually it goes up until the gage lights go on, and then it goes back down. My neighbor, whom you will be learning more about as time goes by, tells me it's sticking open, and after it gets hot enough it closes. Today the fucker wouldn't close up. Just kept on pissing all over the ground like an old man with alzheimers. There I am, halfway between jobs, rush hour traffic, and just enough money to make one phonecall. Two if I'm lucky. So I called my part-time job to see if someone could pick me up, but it was a no-go. So I call my wife, who just so happened to be hanging out with the pos. She got an attitude about coming to pick me up, but finally aquiesced. She was in a better mood(stoned) when she got to where I was, but the pos was with her. I talked her into just taking me to work because my best friend was going to pick me back up and follow me home later. Everything seemed ok. Well, I got a call about two paragraphs into this entry about how the pos was upset because most of the day was spent dealing with the auto problem and now they couldn't have any "quality" time together. I was encouraged to just come home and let him stay after work. Or she told me I could just hang out with friends for a couple hours before coming home so they could have more time. This angers me. First, it's part of our agreement that, no matter what, he leaves when I'm on my way home. Not when I get there, when I'm on my way. Now she wants me to just go to bed or sit in the other room while pos is there. I could go hang out for a while, but I'm working until 10p and I have to be up at 6a for my other job, plus be back here after that until 8 or 9p tomorrow, then up at 6a again. I need the sleep. If I let him stay, it'll snowball from there to the point that he's in my driveway when I get home again. What's happening is that our seperate time has receded to the past, and the pain of it isn't in the forefront of our minds anymore, so the same problems that precipitated it are cropping up again. I don't know if I can deal with this through too many more cycles. For those of you who read to this point, thanks for listening. Any comments would be appreciated. More to come. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 6th, 2003
9:11 pm	Question...... If I leave a reply on someone else's lj, and they read it and reply to that, does it prompt me somehow, or do I have to keep checking? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, May 4th, 2003
6:39 pm	Darkflounder 101- lesson 1 Scenario: You run into one of your friends ex-girlfriends. When they were together, you were all pretty good friends. You shoot the shit for awhile, and then she starts in on how she always thought you were pretty cool and wondered what it would have been like to be with you. During the course of talking she states in one form or another she's not a slut(she is), then asks if you want to come over later and help her finish a bottle of whiskey. Solution: DO NOT FUCK THIS GIRL, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO. Even though your friend has stated he doesn't give two fucks about this chick, that doesn't mean you can pick up where he left off. Even if he doesn't care(he does), you know she'll tell him or someone else that'll leak it back to him. This will do a few things. He'll get pissed off at her all over again for being a whore(especially if that's why they split up), and he'll think you were wanting/fucking her the whole time they were together. His mind will recall all the times she went to the store with you, or the times he showed up and you were there(even though nothing ever happened before). It'll also cause distrust with his current girlfriend, especially if you're all friends together. He'll also be more inclined to fuck your old lady, assuming she's a slut too. However, if you do decide to fuck her, MAKE HER SCREAM. She'll come back for more that way. Note: These views are from the mind of Darkflounder based on things he's seen with his own eyes, not necessarily things he's done. Take them for what they are worth. But remember, if everyone lives under the laws governing Darkflounder, the world will be a better place. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, April 30th, 2003
7:39 pm	Oh yeah... I went back and re-read all my old journals ("all" being 4 or five) and realized my first posting about Angie was actually on her fucking b-day. I couldn't even believe it if I had to. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
7:00 pm	...at the pizza place again. I've been reading a lot of journals with the random search from the homepage, and I've noticed that the names sometimes differ from the journal/profile page. Is this an error or is it changeable. If it's changeable, what is the purpose? Any comments explaining this would be helpful. Even though I signed up over a year ago I'm still really new at using LJ. Thanks. Anyway, I'm getting geeked up to take a summer class at macomb. It's going to be my calc I. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed with the classes I need to take for my degree. I've got so far to go and I'm only a few classes into it. I know it'll pay off one day, but fuck. If I could go back in time I'd go for technical theatre. I loved it then, and I still love it now. It's been a while since I actually did anything, though. There's something about running the lightboard during closing night of a play or musical. Sure, the actors get all the credit and recognition, but I make sure they have a light to be "in". Power. The actor pisses you off, fuck their lights up. The hell you pay getting ripped apart by the person calling the show is well worth it. In my opinion, anyway. Plus, it's so much fun. Unlike engineering. I've been thinking about making an overall theme for my LJ. Maybe call it "Darkflounder 101" or something. If I can teach the world to think like me, it would be a better place. I'll give it some serious thought over the next few days. Later. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, April 26th, 2003
6:18 pm	Working at the pizza place right now. Can't believe the stupidity of some of these customers. I hate people. Anyway, my wife and I went to the country tavern last night for national karaoke week. My brother-in-laws wife is a regular there, along with her group of friends. I hated the place. They were sitting up in the front, kind of overlapping the dance floor, and we just grabbed a couple chairs and joined them. Then the fucking owner came over and made me move over so the aisle was bigger, and then about fifteen minutes later he made us move again. It's not bad enough we were in the front where everyone was looking, but then I had to move around a bunch of times on top of that. Not real impressed with that bar. Any bar where people go up and dance to karaoke is probably pretty fucked anyway. I'm looking forward to getting wasted tonight. I've been pretty good lately, but I still get the urge to push things to the limit. Used to be I could drink a 1/5 and smoke a 1/2, then drive home while drinking a few beers. Nowadays I'm lucky to make it though 2 shots and a couple doobs. Anyway, it's more fun to be the sober one at a party. Fun at the expense of anothers buzz. Well, it's almost dinner rush so I may as well sign off. Have a good one. (Comment on this)
Monday, April 21st, 2003
9:42 pm	back after a long time.... Sitting here at the pizza place bored as fuck. Almost time to go home. I turn 28 tomorrow. Good fucking deal, eh? Maybe this will be the year I get my shit together and get in shape. Probably not. It will be the year I get a new primary job. Hopefully not engineering, though. Anyway, I hope these journals will get better over time. Can't tell if what I'm writing is crap or not. Incomplete thoughts and incoherent sentences aren't really my trademark, but it's been a while since i wrote anything. Maybe I'll just try to tell a new story every day. When I feel my descriptions are up to snuff I'll write my book. I already know the title. "Fear Factor", - no relation to the tv show. I've had that name in my head for years. It's based on the fact that no matter how bad things get, the human mind generally thinks it's going to make it. The man who is shot in his living room during a breaking and entering trying to crawl to the kitchen will think he is going to make it right up until the time he expires. His last thought lost somewhere between 911 and how his wife's been slacking on the mopping. This is the basis for the book, with underlying tones of torture, revenge, and redemption. Anyway, I have to go home now. Happy reading. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, February 25th, 2002
12:18 pm	WHO I AM When I was 19 I found a friend of mine murdered. Her name was Angela Garcia. She died on a dirty subway floor on Tuesday, Oct. 18, 1994. I spent a year and a half going to court and testifying about what I knew. I actually ran into all four of the bastards that had a hand in doing it later that same night. Of course, i didn't realize they were involved or it would be me behind bars right now. Have no doubts, I would have killed all four of them very painfully and slowly, with my bare hands, taking great satisfaction in every scream. Piers Anthony wrote a short story called "On the uses of Torture," and I would have written part II. Anyway, two of the four are in for life, but the other two get out in the year 2007, only about five years away. This episode consumed my life for about three years, but now it's just a bad memory, with an occasional sleepless night and nightmare. I did, however vow to "get" the people involved. I'm wondering if I should approach them when they get out, or beat their asses or more drastic measures. I have another five years to think about it. Any Ideas? (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, February 18th, 2002
12:09 pm	This is my first posting, and it is only a test. (Comment on this)