<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<!-- If you are running a bot please visit this policy page outlining rules you must respect. http://www.livejournal.com/bots/ -->
<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:lj="http://www.livejournal.com">
  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage</id>
  <title>Animal Pragmatism</title>
  <subtitle>Straight from the horse's mouth.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>creative_rage</name>
  </author>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/"/>
  <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom"/>
  <updated>2006-10-18T19:13:38Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="7938928" username="creative_rage" type="personal"/>
  <link rel="service.feed" type="application/x.atom+xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom" title="Animal Pragmatism"/>
  <link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/"/>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:18767</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/18767.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=18767"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-10-18T15:01:00</title>
    <published>2006-10-18T19:01:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-18T19:13:38Z</updated>
    <content type="html">If you live in NYC or ever take a trip here, I highly suggest getting up on a Sunday morning, just before sunrise, and head to Midtown. There's generally nothing special about Midtown, really, except that it is continuously bustling, full of cabbies and office drones and street vendors pushing their way here and there, 24 hours a day. But not on Sunday morning. You can walk in the center of the street, for blocks, without encountering a vehicle or another human being. In Manhattan, that's special. It's like having the center of the world all to yourself. I decided to take a few pictures. (Now in Black and White for extra pretentiousness!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img438.imageshack.us/my.php?image=43rdkh0.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img438.imageshack.us/img438/7096/43rdkh0.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47th Street, looking east from Times Square&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img122.imageshack.us/my.php?image=corbatagi5.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img122.imageshack.us/img122/3461/corbatagi5.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A window wearing a tie in Koreatown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img316.imageshack.us/my.php?image=tsqng6.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img316.imageshack.us/img316/7820/tsqng6.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times Square, as empty as you'll ever see it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img60.imageshack.us/my.php?image=finediningzc8.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img60.imageshack.us/img60/1216/finediningzc8.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This classy mailbox serves drinks. 5th and 35th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img444.imageshack.us/my.php?image=clockto2.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img444.imageshack.us/img444/1497/clockto2.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nice building that I see every day but sadly do not know the name of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img60.imageshack.us/my.php?image=fifthoc2.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img60.imageshack.us/img60/1559/fifthoc2.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5th Avenue, looking north from Madison Square Park&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img516.imageshack.us/my.php?image=koreatownuh1.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img516.imageshack.us/img516/319/koreatownuh1.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nice layering of several buildings in Koreatown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img316.imageshack.us/my.php?image=offthehizzynm3.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img316.imageshack.us/img316/3378/offthehizzynm3.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at this picture, you get the idea the people here fled something suddenly, 5th and 36th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img129.imageshack.us/my.php?image=postnobillstp1.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img129.imageshack.us/img129/2010/postnobillstp1.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another lonely shot, 5th and 37th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img316.imageshack.us/my.php?image=windowgh4.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img316.imageshack.us/img316/7839/windowgh4.th.png" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, my bedroom window, with a classic New York City view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like the eerie quality of these pictures, they tell a story of something, some sudden event, or disaster. The evacuation of New York City. Everyone just disappears one Sunday morning, leaving only myself as a witness. Paired with the man ranting on the subway this morning about the impending terrorist bio-weapon to be released in the city, everything feels a bit surreal lately.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:18508</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/18508.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=18508"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-10-15T09:10:00</title>
    <published>2006-10-15T13:12:03Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-15T13:12:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Just got back from my morning walk, but my block was closed off. Why? Mrs. Universe wanted to visit the park, she got a presidential-type motorcade and everything. What the hell?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:18256</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/18256.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=18256"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-09-22T18:08:00</title>
    <published>2006-09-22T22:09:10Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-22T22:09:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">A lady on the subway apparently put a voodoo curse on me because I wouldn't give her my Coke. I didn't know how to tell her that voodoo doesn't work on white people.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:17929</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/17929.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=17929"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-09-16T01:31:00</title>
    <published>2006-09-16T05:44:10Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-16T05:44:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Yes I have neglected this thing. I have also moved 1,100 miles north, lost a fair amount of hair, and left behind a mostly unsatisfying yet moderately stable life in Florida. Yet, with all that's happened, I still have nothing interesting to say, which goes back to why I never update these things. I spend my days sleeping in subway cars, eating overpriced deli food, and willfully ignoring the fact I live in the most expensive city in America and don't yet have a job. So life is pretty good, the novelty of Manhattan has yet to wear off. On rainy days, the skyscrapers fade away upward into a gray nothingness. Birds, children, and foreigners are everywhere. Every block has the best pizza you'll ever taste. I really hope I never get bored of the city, because if I get bored here, I'll be bored everywhere, but I'm already finding my way into a groove. I let the pigeons on my fire escape wake me up in time for the Curious George cartoon. I walk down to the corner for a Daily News and a Coke, and hop on the train to such glamorous landmarks like KMart or Home Depot, because I need to collect more material goods to fill the glaring voids in my life. But New York has opportunity, something Florida, and most certainly Ohio does not. People like me really don't fit in anywhere. I'm not saying that in the "Oh, I'm such a unique shining diamond sense" either. It has always been a huge hurdle in my life that I an awkward, I am shy, I am as far as I know totally incapable of understanding other people socially to any meaningful degree. I just don't operate on the normal wavelengths, and it's been a hindrance. So if there's anywhere left where I can survive in that manner, it's New York City. I just have to find out how, 11 months to go.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:17847</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/17847.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=17847"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-05-11T16:10:00</title>
    <published>2006-05-11T20:10:43Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-11T20:10:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">It rained for several hours today. This is a bigger deal than you can ever imagine.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:17544</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/17544.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=17544"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-04-24T14:10:00</title>
    <published>2006-04-24T18:33:00Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-24T18:38:11Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I'm now officially back in counseling. Which means you can kiss my savings account and everything else of monetary worth goodbye. This is really a last ditch effort for me. Myself and many around me have come to realize, seemingly simultaneously, that the way things are in my life are just not going to change. No matter how you dress it up, a pig is always going to be a pig, to reach back to my Midwestern days for a "homespun" saying. So, that being said, I have to learn to be happy with this pig that is my life. And that's what the counseling is about. That, and the mood lighting and the 2 hours via bus to get there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, an exciting update, apparently the landscapers outside have a profound effect on the framerate of my computer monitor. As they revv up the edger, things fluctuate. This goes far towards verifying my theory that lawn care professionals are the true center of civilization. But anyway, I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, in summation, love life: non-existant; career prospects: washing maple syrup out of my hair every day, for the next 35 years; finances: being spent on counseling to make me blissfully forget the facts in this paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to delve into a classic LiveJournal "woe is me" and fake looking scars on your wrist type of bullshit, which I abhor, but I'm really, desperately lonely. I have never been loved, never even been told that I am loved, by anyone, not even family, and I think there's some law somewhere that states they at least have to fake it, just once. None of you, I am certain, can ever understand what it is like to be alone, truly alone. To wake in an empty bed. To eat dinner at an empty table. To go days without hearing a voice other than your own. This is what it must be like to be the last man on Earth. Everything is so cold and distant, and frequently, it hurts me, physically even. Like a sun in its death throes, I throw off tendrils of coronae, reaching out to everyone and anyone who will listen, who will accept me as a human, even if for a moment, but those moments are very rare, and very far apart. I think, at age 14, if you had told me the blunt truth that I would begin to go bald before I had my first romantic experience with a woman, I would have killed myself then and there. Certianly I would have been the laughing stock of detention that afternoon. So, because of that, I put all this weight on my career. Doing with my life what makes me happy. Writing, creating, reworking the world around me and putting you right in it. Well now my brain is so irrevocably fucking scrambled I have serious trouble walking without tipping over anymore. I don't hold out much hope for my future, and I really cannot continue to live this way. I have genuinely, honestly worked very hard to change my situation in life to no avail. I think if you do that, you have held up your end of whatever mystical covenant you hold with your spiritual beliefs, or the Universe, or what have you, regarding the "gift of life" and that you are then allowed to do as you please with it. And that's for the most part where I stand. It is rather liberating in a way, as I no longer have the banal everyday worries of "where will I be in five years" or "should I take the job in Houston or stay here?" that I see so many of you dealing with. That's done now, I can for lack of a better word, relax. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's where I stand. And I cannot promise anyone anything about my future, so just don't worry, just don't bother with that OK? I know certain social forces dictate that you must show concern, I guess that's one of the few remaining positive vestages of our civilization, but it's alright on this one, I've got you covered there. No one will fault you with anything. So don't chime in one day to talk to me because you fear I'm going to do something you find distasteful, do it because you really want to. Otherwise, don't do it at all. You're only dragging out the inevitable that much longer. I don't know what will finish the job in the end, the worsening brain damage, some sort of blod clot in my head, or just my sheer desperation overtaking my cowardice, and I can't tell you when, of course. So I thought I'd do this, get this out of the way now. When it does happen, if I have any control over it, you won't know about it, you won't hear about it. I don't blame anyone but myself for this situation, and therefore, no one else deserves the burden. So, like I'm doing these days, relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, something comes along that cannot be understood, and certainly cannot be defined. Think of them as viruses, they have only two options: To multiply and eventually overcome its host, or to be eradicated.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:17255</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/17255.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=17255"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-04-10T14:02:00</title>
    <published>2006-04-10T18:07:31Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-10T18:07:31Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My computer is toast. We had a massive lightning storm a few nights ago, and my building which is by no means spectacular or tall or covered in television aerials, was hit 4 times. One of these times found its way into my computer, despite surge protectors and bubble wrap and disguising the computer as a refridgerator so the lightning wouldn't find it. Once I found the box the surge protector came it, it displayed within a starburst design "Now Without Warranty!" So I'm pretty much screwed. All the money I (wisely, I guess?) saved for moving from Orlando will have to go to a new computer. Not that it is a personal necessity, I can live without the internet, sure, I can say that. But most of my schoolwork now relies on internet workshops and communicating and sharing work with group members online. I can't keep going to the school library and wait 45 minutes for a donated Apple II from 1987 just to send an email. So I'm fucked, whatever. Anyway, for the one or two of you (most likely one) that noticed my absence. This is why.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:17131</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/17131.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=17131"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-04-01T21:25:00</title>
    <published>2006-04-02T02:26:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-02T02:26:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Also, today's April Fool's jokes are ripped from tomorrow's headlines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theregister.co.uk/2006/04/01/gwot_cha/"&gt;http://www.theregister.co.uk/2006/04/01/gwot_cha/&lt;/a&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:16673</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/16673.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=16673"/>
    <title>Happy lose an hour of sleep before going to work for no good reason Day!</title>
    <published>2006-04-02T01:54:34Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-02T01:54:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This is one of those updates that is self-indulgent, not a little bit rambling, and basically serves to make sure this thing still works. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Spring is finally here to stay I think. It’s been horrendously hot, but enjoyable. The skies are obscenely blue and cloudless, fake looking, in only that way a Florida sky can be. Lizards poke inquisitive heads around doorways. Lovebugs are omnipresent. (For non-Floridians, this is a perpetually copulating insect, not the amorous human variety, however plenty of the latter can be observed as well.) All this makes me want to get outside more, be more active. Unfortunately the last person I know at UCF has taken some sort of vow to be a hermit and I’m stuck outdoors alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	I’ve been making a point of commuting by bike more often now with some success. I made it halfway across Orlando a few days back, which is no small feat considering Orlando covers more area than Rhode Island. The general aggressive attitude towards non-motorists continues however. Bottles have been thrown at me yet again. And apparently walking on a sidewalk makes you a “fag.” Who knew? Getting around this way can be enjoyable though. You get to take in the sights a little better than when you’re flying by at 75 MPH, which is the community-appointed residential area speed limit at which you must travel at all times. I saw a man meditating, lotus position, in front of a Little Caesar’s pizza yesterday. This is what happens when your government doesn’t fund any parks, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	About Spring coming so late this year, someone told me they heard that we were getting stronger cold snaps, and later in the year, because the ocean is losing salinity, which prevents it from holding heat as well. I can’t vouch for any of that, but it did make me realize, most of what we hear nowadays is all rumors and hearsay. Facts seem to be in very short supply. I sometimes feel like we live in some occupied country, an underground passing along what they know, anything and everything, mouth to ear, on and on. You can turn on the TV or hear the radio but you’re not going to get news there, you’re going to get what someone, somewhere thinks you should hear. So I don’t know anything about the ocean vis a vis its salt content, or anything else for that matter, I can only rely upon what I see, what I experience. That’s all I can trust these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	On an apropos  tangent here, I feel like I keep being betrayed by truth. One of the few positive (possibly?) things my father did with me growing up was to give me a large amount of respect for the truth. I always tell it, as often as I can, and hope that others will treat me in much the same way. But of course the truth is harsh and unyielding and frankly it hurts. But I’ve become something of an addict to it. This week’s hilarious Florida in the news story was of a local man around here who was so fond of his snake, he wrapped it around his neck as he drove. The snake, being a snake, naturally constricted a bit leaving the man, who, in proper Florida fashion, took it upon himself to drive in heavy traffic in this state, in a rather untenable position. 60 seconds later, both man and snake are upside down in a ditch. Well this is pretty much my relationship with truth. I embrace it, I yearn for it, I want to know just wear I stand, and I get my wish most certainly. Something comes along and knocks me right the fuck out of my safe, comfortable delusions and suddenly I’m upside-down in a ditch with no clear path to follow anymore. And here’s where I stand today.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:16405</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/16405.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=16405"/>
    <title>A Telemundo telenovella, as told by my TV closed captioning</title>
    <published>2006-03-31T21:27:56Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-31T21:27:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Ricardo: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Anna: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Anna: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Tomas: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo: Que?&lt;br /&gt;Tomas: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Anna: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Tomas: [Speaks Spanish]&lt;br /&gt;Anna: [Speaks Spanish]</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:16360</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/16360.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=16360"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-03-24T17:12:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-24T22:13:36Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-24T22:15:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;There’s always these points in life where you think things are going to change. That you’ve finally paid all your dues and you are about to move on to something great. To dig yourself out of that muddy, fetid ditch you’ve spent your entire existence in. It’s a wonderful feeling, truly amazing, to be standing there with nothing but hope and opportunity lying in front of you. Why is it then that this never seems to be the truth? No one ever dares call me an optimist, yet I continually get pulled into the trap of seeing things how they should be, not how they really are. It leads to minor annoyance, and perhaps a bit of embarrassment for others, and a total collapse and rebuilding of the way I live for myself. What seems to be rather troubling about this trend is that, firstly, I never catch a break. The flipped coin never lands on the right side. I have to keep trying of course, as someone very recently told me, I have to be the one who takes charge, and I agree and do just that. But I always end up running myself right back into that ditch. The other thing, and perhaps more worrisome, is that with each iteration of this cycle, it becomes more intense, I’m built up even higher, I fall ever further, and I have to struggle more to pull myself back up. And frankly, I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’m thinking of just quitting. Whatever that means, I don’t know. No worries, I’m too cowardly to kill myself, but I’m also too weak, to brow-beaten to continue on with these jokes either. I’ve tried to write this as well as I could without having it sound like a juvenile whining rant. The kids that write those sorts of things are usually driving their $30,000 new car to the mall to hang out with their friends, the same people who would condescend towards me in high school and make fun of me behind my back. But they feel entitled to their grief, and so I do mine. But it isn’t grief, not really. It’s a potent mixture of inward directed anger and intense jealousness. I cannot seem to claim what everyone else takes for granted as the basic standard of living they’re used to. Love, stability, security, I can’t obtain any of these things. I find myself sitting in an office with a lovely view at 930 this morning with an imposing man demanding to know what I’m doing with my life, where I’m going. I just want to tell him, if I have something to eat every day, I think I’ll be fine. But I have to understand not even that is guaranteed. You people make it so easy, and perhaps it is so easy for you, but it’s a never ending struggle for me, and I’m being left so far behind I don’t think I’m going to catch up. So if I disappear suddenly, and if more to the point, anyone then notices this, you’ll know that I’ve simply fallen too far back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The double edged sword that was mandatory psychological counseling, besides taking all my money from me, really did an even bigger number over on me. They made the mistake of making me feel worthy of the things I’m denied. Previously, I felt that, simply, I wasn’t afforded basic human emotional necessities because I was some, well, sub-human type of creature, someone to be trod upon, to exist on this planet in some sort of support role, more like a machine, doing its duty, never needing attention, food, drink, conversation, you name it. I was satisfied with this explanation for the state of affairs for many years. After counseling however, I’m suddenly someone who not only deserves companionship, love, wealth, safety, I’m someone who demands it. The joke is, that doesn’t mean those things are going to be mine. Quite a cruel trick on their part, because now I simply cannot understand why, no matter what effort I give, these all remain out of reach. They told me, they &lt;i&gt;convinced&lt;/i&gt; me that I was an intelligent, thoughtful, caring, conscientious, worthwhile human being. So now I just feel like I’ve been robbed, which makes me so angry at the world for the things that happen to me, when I am most likely responsible for my position, and nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don’t really know why I’m telling all the imaginary people I’ve conjured up who read this drivel all this. Maybe it is something as simple as emotional release. When you reach some critical mass and you just have to let out a lot of the pressure, like an over inflated balloon. But more, really, recently I just feel like an era has ended. This naïve, childlike person that I’ve always been, infinitely hopeful, though silent about that hope, is going off to that realm where all young souls go, and he’s being usurped by the finality of cold, solid reality. And I’m left with a choice. Embrace the change. Understand that I’m, for lack of a better word, destined (due to a myriad of mental issues stemming from my turbulent childhood) to lead a solitary life, destined to work only the most simplistic, meaningless jobs for a hand-to-mouth wage, destined to never find happiness that I’ve sought for as long as I have memory. Or, I can abandon the stark future, hold on to the falsehoods I cherish so dear, which, like the proverbial frog in a pot of water, slowly heats up, myself unaware, until I get severely burned. So, any suggestions?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:16019</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/16019.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=16019"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-03-17T01:06:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-17T06:11:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-17T06:13:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I was listening to the radio just now, and a whole block of 1980s pop songs came on. I suddenly felt myself slightly shaking. I then realized that I associate 80s music with the fear of nuclear war. I was born in 1981 and am old enough to have caught the tail end of Cold War paranoia. I vividly remember politicians reminding voters in my industrial Ohio city how quickly they and everything they’ve ever know would be vaporized, lest they vote for the wrong man. My father would meticulously examine maps and wind patterns, attempting to discover just where we would be safe from radioactive fallout. Now, whenever I hear even the most bubbly, innocuous song from that era, I feel as if Soviet ICBMs are bearing down upon me, and there hasn’t even been a Soviet Union for 15 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incredible, how we are owned by our pasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(BTW, my father's years of exhaustive study determined Coos Bay, Oregon was the safest place to be in America after a nuclear attack. Just how we'd get there from Ohio I'll never know.)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:15794</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/15794.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=15794"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-03-10T23:55:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-11T04:59:06Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-11T04:59:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">OK, so I'm in San Diego. Nothing really exciting about that, except, well, everytime I head over to Tampa Bay from Orlando, I make a point of starting the morning at Canaveral and seeing the sunrise, or at very least, dipping a foot in the Atlantic, so that I can make my way to the Gulf and see the sunset there. I don't think anyone knew that (although I might have made Kaitlyn do it with me once) and it's a bit obsessive-compulsive, but I try to do it each time. Well today I did the same, headed over to Cocoa Beach and reached into the Atlantic, and tonight out at Mission Beach I did the same in the Pacific, just because I could, or its tradition maybe, perhaps? Anyway, it's an amazing feat when you think about it. Suck it Lewis and Clark! I've trivialized your grand accomplishment! See, some slob from Florida can see two of the world's three major oceans in one day. There's something to be said for that I think.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:15579</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/15579.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=15579"/>
    <title>To Live And Die In Orlando</title>
    <published>2006-03-08T05:03:50Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-08T05:03:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">From the pages of Apartment Finder magazine, March 2006, Metro Orlando Edition:&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Country living with city convenience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiet &amp; Serene&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a world of convenience in a casual atmosphere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer do you need to imagine the finer things in life, now you can have them at Village Townhomes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come see what everyone's talking about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupendous apartment homes nestled under the trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need we say more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome home to the very best of the best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;City convenience with a touch of nature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Town &amp; Country Twelve Oaks offers beautiful architecture amidst lavish landscaping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome home to luxury living at its best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close to everything... Far from ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exceeding your expectations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to a new world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location... Quality... Lifestyle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surrounded by the Beauty of a Park Like Setting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Newly Renovated with Luxury and Style&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fine art of affordable living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come relax with us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing we overlook is the golf course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nature &amp; Serenity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get away from the hustle &amp; bustle at Neptune Bay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come experience the best of everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a breeze at Waterford East&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grass is greener here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflect the elegance and impeccable style and gracious living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quality living for quality people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tap into the excitement at The Fountans of Waterford Lakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upgrade your lifestyle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're the "Welcome Home" team!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome home to relaxing, resort style living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All roads lead home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come enjoy the comfort, convenience and affordability&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Polo's provides a warm Village like atmosphere while our great location keeps you in touch with the rest of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meander through beautifully landscaped courtyards. Escape to your private balcony, and surround yourself in the tranquility of your own water view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spoil yourself... it's human nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all about life and how you live it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not just an apartment, it's a lifestyle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convenience, comfort, and value... it's well within your reach!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new tradition in living...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sail into convenience, comfort, and style&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're just your style!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comfort and luxury welcomes you home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under new management!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come see the changes we have in store for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bringing together the look of luxury and the natural charm of Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll come for the value... you'll stay because it's home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Envy has a new home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just sail away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wanted to live on a lake but still be in within touch of the city?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won't you be our neighbor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find your comfort zone at Sun Lake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live like royalty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elegance and style&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The art of living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have arrived...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let our lighthouse signal guide you home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home is where life happens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where you'll find everything you want... and want everything you find!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The charm and style you will look to come home to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandest residential enclave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us indulge you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secluded paradise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will not even know you are minutes from the Altamonte Mall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take life in at Altamonte Park&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the "suite" way of life!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:15113</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/15113.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=15113"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-03-03T21:15:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-04T02:16:45Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-04T02:16:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">If anyone is missing a 1950s, Levittown-style 1 bedroom ranch cottage, I think I've found it. In Union Park, upside-down, in the middle of Avenue D. So, you might want to get on that, just saying.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:15029</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/15029.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=15029"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-02-28T15:16:00</title>
    <published>2006-02-28T20:24:11Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-28T20:29:21Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I owe income tax, a lot of it. It's not enough that I had at least $650 deducted automatically over the year, I now have to mail in a check for $250 more with my return. Work that all out against my year's income for 2005, and I'm paying around 23% income tax, because you know, I'm so rich and can afford it. And I know this ain't going to pay off the debt, or fund what's left of schools, it's all going to some rich old man's pocket. I feel very proud sitting here, wondering how I'm going to scrape up $250 before April, spending $20 a week on food and gas and nothing more, so that someone in Texas can use my $250, via a no-bid contract, to buy a new coffee maker for the break room at the building where they design flawed body armor for American troops (support them with a magnetic car ribbon, or else!) who are now sitting ducks in the center of a developing civil war that we bumblingly sparked, and will eventually slink away from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I've double checked everything, and methinks Perkins, or someone, is screwing me over somewhere along the line.)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:14783</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/14783.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=14783"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-02-19T17:38:00</title>
    <published>2006-02-19T22:42:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-19T23:04:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Alright, so I just recieved this e-mail:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Submitted by: Jim Uhlir&lt;br /&gt;Submitted for: Environmental Health and Safety&lt;br /&gt;Subject: Lightning Prediction system installed at Building 88&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please be advised that the Recreation and Wellness Center (RWC) has &lt;br /&gt;installed a lightning prediction system at Building 88. When the system activates, a horn will sound every 5 &lt;br /&gt;seconds and a strobe light will flash for the duration of the threat. This &lt;br /&gt;means that anyone outside should immediately seek shelter in a building or car &lt;br /&gt;that has a metal roof. The system will automatically sound three short blasts when &lt;br /&gt;the threat of lightning is gone. In addition, the strobe light will stop &lt;br /&gt;flashing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The horn sound is similar to a loud car horn and can be heard all &lt;br /&gt;around the RWC building and adjacent areas. This system is not designed to be a&lt;br /&gt;campus-wide alert system, but may be heard in some areas distant from &lt;br /&gt;the building. The system will be activated from 10:00 AM until 12:01 AM &lt;br /&gt;every day. Please direct any questions to the RWC staff or Environmental Health &lt;br /&gt;and Safety."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds fairly reasonable, if not a bit overreactionary, but then realize that Orange County, Florida has more lightning strikes per yer than any other place on Earth, no exaggeration. That's a lot of lightning threats, which means I have to listen to some fucking horn every 5 seconds for the rest of my college career. I think I can handle myself without the safety and protection being terribly annoyed will provide me, so lets hope UCF thinks this one through a little more.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:14437</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/14437.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=14437"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-02-17T17:42:00</title>
    <published>2006-02-17T22:43:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-17T22:43:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Just saw a man wearing a T-shirt that read "Persecuted" where the "T" was a cross atop a hill. If somebody can tell me just where in the United States are Christians truly persecuted, you'll get a prize! (The smug sense of self-satisfaction)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:14173</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/14173.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=14173"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-02-14T06:33:00</title>
    <published>2006-02-14T11:34:03Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-14T17:22:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">21 god damned degrees. I have to go downstairs and scrape the ice off my car. This is not Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DeathFreeze 2006 update: I slipped and busted my ass on an ice puddle (that doesn't sound right, ice slick perhaps? Dammit, I cant even remember what these things are called)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:14059</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/14059.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=14059"/>
    <title>Pictures, as promised</title>
    <published>2006-01-25T22:54:00Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-25T22:54:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/6193/marryme2to.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waterford Lakes Town Center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/9497/bricks3uy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;University Boulevard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/8396/owned8et.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buck Road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/2332/face5tj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Quadrangle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/5447/partypig5ps.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orpington Street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/6139/bamaco1iv.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goldenrod Road (Former site of a hurricane-flattened strip mall)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/5143/carforsale3cb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bithlo (Could this be &lt;i&gt;anywhere&lt;/i&gt; else?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/455/sunsetcl16ar.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pegasus Circle, UCF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img513.imageshack.us/img513/7624/sunset8ds.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Research Park</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:13588</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/13588.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=13588"/>
    <title>In the event of Rapture</title>
    <published>2006-01-19T03:36:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-19T03:36:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">As per request, I've decided to share with you, the general public, a plan of mine to accrue wealth and property. This is sort of a test here, to feel things out and see if its feasible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I want to hire a lawyer to write up a contract stating that, as an atheist, in the event of "Rapture" I shall remain in my corporeal form on Earth, and as such, you the pious Christian, will ascend to the heavens, that you will not need any of your earthly possessions, and I therefore, shall inherit them, as per the contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Rapture" is a phenomena found primarily in certain millennial religious circles mostly in the United States, where, it is believed all "true Christians" will be taken up into Heaven, leaving clothing, personal items, even dentures or fake limbs, in a prelude to the rise of an Anti-Christ (usually representing whatever entity is most threatening to nutjobs at the moment, currently for some reason, a unified Europe) and these true Christians will be saved from the carnage to occur on Earth. So as in our day and age, the term "true Christian" can probably only be applied to about 4 Mormons and a housecat, most Americans seem to think they are destined, within their lifetimes, to be "raptured" as they say. I happen to work with no less than 10 people who share this view. To them, it isn't a theory, it is an inevitability, just so you have a view into the mindset at work here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan is, that in the unlikely event of the Rapture, where my own religious views would certainly be proved incorrect, and thus I'd be in a lot of trouble, at least I would have a contingency plan. If I'm not saved, at least I'm going out comfortably wealthy. So with the contract, upon being raptured, I gain possession of everything the subject owned on Earth. Cars, land, buildings, a full library of Left Behind books, you name it, mine. I might even feel generous enough to include a rider stating that I would use the wealth I'd gain to fight this Anti-Christ when he/she emerged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there are legal impediments, sure, for one, the term "Rapture" would have to be defined, I'd have to work with lawyers for awhile to make the contract airtight, but once that's done, I think it's certainly worth a try. I could even hand out bumper stickers that say "In the event of Rapture, this unmanned vehicle becomes property of Chris Needles."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tell me what you think.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:13531</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/13531.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=13531"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-01-07T22:02:00</title>
    <published>2006-01-08T03:02:50Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-08T03:02:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">If there were ever a time to get drunk, it would be now. And all I have is NyQuil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I get for buying rum for everyone for Christmas, and not keeping any for myself.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:13241</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/13241.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=13241"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2006-01-06T18:31:00</title>
    <published>2006-01-07T00:33:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-07T01:51:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Yes, yes. I realize I haven't updated in ages. Forgive me, I've been rather distracted lately. But with school starting up again Monday, I figured now would be a good time to collect my thoughts. First, and I do understand that this is going to sound absolutely mind bogglingly silly, but I realized lately that I suffer from depression. Allow me to explain. Before, I just figured I feel like shit all the time because shitty things happen to me, and once that changes, then I'd be happy. Simple logic. As nothing good ever happened, I constantly felt down, and unsure of myself. However recently some very nice things happened to me, and I did feel great for most of a week, but then worrying about the future came back, and feeling like crap came back, and believing in the worst came back, and now I feel so lonely and scared and messed up again. So it took 24 years, but I think I can throw that theory out. My concentration is usually non-existant, and even though I have a ridiculously intense drive to make things better and do what I want to in my life, it butts up against that failure to concentrate, and only causes more frustration and anger. So I'm considering going back to the psychiatrist, which is another problem, because this man has the ability, without warning, to have me committed, this time involuntarily. I fear if I return, he'll view this as some sort of mental health relapse, regardless of my calmness and clarity, and will send me right back to Lakeside or worse, Princeton. I hope they use some common fucking sense, I mean, I've made a great deal of progress, I've lost 55 pounds so far, I've held down a job for 2 years, I support myself while going to college. I mean, I can't really think of any other people with schizophrenia (however mild, thankfully) who can even be left alone. I don't think many people apprecate the amount of mental and even physical strength it takes to live as close to a normal lifestyle as I can. But after all, these are the people who labeled me a "publicity threat" for UCF (as if erstwhile football players operating meth labs in dorms weren't) and would have an easier time of things just pushing me off. Now, if I can overcome all THAT, I can't even barely afford the pills I'd need. Man, thank God we don't have subsidized health care in the country, that would just be awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This upcoming semester, I may very well have 4 jobs at once, on top of school. It should be rather interesting. If I do get all four, I fully expect to be stressed out enough to have killed someone before March, but if I can save $10,000 I will be in an exceptional position for when I graduate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In anyone talks to me in the next week or so, you'll probably get an earfull of crazy nutjob opinions on marketing and how it is eliminating human free will. I've been doing a lot of reading on the subject, and I've taken the classes, and it's very creepy and awe inspiring how well marketers know the human mind. It really is a science. I swear to you MRIs are involved. I'm certain more money is spent on marketing research in this country than AIDS and cancer combined. Everything is a product. That's how the human mind has been trained to interpret the world. This can of soda, a politicans integrity, your personality, all can be sold in the same way. Truth is a null entity, or rather, the word no longer carries the same meaning. The problem there is, people are always applying the original definition of "truth" to the new and improved version of the concept. The second problem is, we are, or have already, lost human free will. I mention 'scripting' alot, because it is fascinating. As it stands right now, as of studies done in 2003, when a consumer (which is a new phrase replacing the term "human") enters a store, marketers can actually manipulate that consumer to follow a certain group of actions, your choice is out of the equation, and as of 2003, this was 70% effective. If they want you to buy a candy bar, they can probably get you to do it. Now, apply that to the world at large. (and someone soon will, it is inevitable)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent more time in Tampa in the past month than I had in the last few years, which was nice. First to see Lydia and got to hang out with Tyler and catch Kaitlyn once more before she left for Japan, and a few more times to see Vickie. All were quite nice, occasionally, about once a decade, I'm alloted an absolutely perfect 24-hour period. I think I may have used mine up for awhile. Here's looking forward to 2015!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was speaking with Victoria the other day about the true nature of Florida. How these things are hard to describe accurately to an outsider. They are famously documented in quirky news stories, filling the bare space between ads for car dealerships. But there is much more to it. Florida is an improbable place where falcons soar over strip malls. It is a place where Haitian war criminals serve you ice cream, and Peruvian presidential aides drive your bus. I've always assigned a cosmic signifigance to the place. If you're here, you're here for a reason. To grow, to die, to be reborn, there IS a purpose for your stay. It's as delightful as heaven, and as infuriating as hell, but it is neither. We should demand independence, not from the United States of America, but from reality itself. There is an intangible, wonderful quality to it all. It refuses to be recorded. I myself have tried several times to photograph it, but it always disappears just before the click of the shutter. I often think, in 100 years time, after Florida has been resigned to the bottom of the Atlantic, will people ever be able to believe it existed at all. I will hopefully get into the habit of putting up pictures here again, if I'm lucky enough to have the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So despite bringing in 2006 with having to be in bed at 11pm for work at 5 the next morning (how fucking lame) I do have some hopes for this year. First and foremost, getting the fuck out of Orlando. This should be easy enough to achieve in the sense that, if I'm willing to live in my car, I can go pretty much anywhere, but I WOULD like to have money and an actual living quarters of some kind. 2. Jettisoning my spiteful, jealous, short-tempered, narrow-minded, have I mentioned spiteful? absolutely worthless family members from my life. (And I do mean jettison, I want a fucking airlock) 3. Get back to writing, which will be harder than both those two combined, re: concentration issues. 4. Gotta finally do a stand-up thing this year, coming up with the jokes is the easy part. I have been looking to do some acting as well, we'll see how things work out. And then some minor ones, like losing the last 15 or so pounds, somehow magically stop losing my hair, maybe learn to swim? I don't know, it never really appealed to me in the first place. Humans don't have gills for a reason. But like I say, all pretty minor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it, and I'll post again shortly, if I remember to, if not, see you in several months.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:13029</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/13029.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=13029"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2005-12-10T17:04:00</title>
    <published>2005-12-10T22:04:44Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-10T22:04:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I just turned down $35,000/year for an intangable, does not now, nor will ever exist future. I am the dumbest fucking person on Earth. "Following your dreams" is a trick the government sticks into your head via the chemicals they use to preserve fast food beef patties for long distance shipping. I feel so terrible I want to crawl into a hole.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:creative_rage:12609</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/12609.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://creative-rage.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=12609"/>
    <title>creative_rage @ 2005-12-09T10:22:00</title>
    <published>2005-12-09T15:22:31Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-09T15:22:31Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Sleeping with the windows open has its advantages. Every morning at dawn I wake to the sound of birds, a vast stream of them, flying southward, following the course of the Econlockhatchee River across the road from my bedroom. Hundreds, possibly thousands of birds flow past. Sometimes it takes 15 minutes for the birds to completely pass by. Later today, at dusk, those same birds will flow back north, the same route, everyday. I don’t know where they go at dawn, and I don’t know where they return to at dusk, (I intend to find out someday) but you can rely on it like clockwork. I often lie in bed, watching attentively until the last bird has disappeared from sight. I wonder how many decades, how many centuries, this has been happening, without interruption. The Econ is an urban river, snaking its way through roadside culverts and feeding manmade lakes, it is often forced underground into large pipes, on it’s course north to the St. Johns, but the birds can’t be fooled, they’ve had too much practice, and can always find it. They don’t look at maps or plan their journey, they just fly, and let instinct take them where it may. If we were smarter creatures, we’d do the same, I know I should.</content>
  </entry>
</feed>
