Wave of Mutilation

Is a pretty fucking large place. Sometimes you fall off of it. At first I fell towards my xbox 360 but I got so tired of slitting throats (which could be seen as uncharacteristic for me) and bursting blood vessel's in my eyes that I fell away from it pretty quickly. Then there's the whole "holy fuck I'm snowed in 6 feet deep" thing. Much like Patrick Bateman I simply am not there. 

To be completely honest I've written a few blog posts between now and my last actual one (not that retarded blogger championship bogusness) and for some reason at the end of it I didn't feel right. Maybe I felt like all my blogs were dripping together in a soggy bowl of complacency. I can't say exactly why I decided to select all and delete them, but none-the-less here we are. I'm going to post this one I promise. You're reading it right now aren't you? There's a monster at the end of this blog, DO NOT SCROLL DOWN! (if you know this reference, FUCK YAH, if you don't, lrn2sesamestreet) 

I have a hundred topics I could spew off about but I'm going to make it easy on myself, and you the reader, by going topic to topic like spider-man through city buildings.

Poker: I didn't want to pigeon-hole myself into a new year's resolution that I was bound to fail at (like so many do) so I kinda told myself internally that I wasn't going to make any resolutions and that would be my sneaky resolution. Success! I cashed out some and planned on grinding up from 100NL for both the challenge and the fun (but more importantly the low stress grind). I played there for a while, it was fun, and funny, but truth be told I like midstakes better. I know I know I'm low volume bla bla bla but fuck you that shit doesn't mean I don't know how to play, or that I don't play well when I do play. I'm pretty good at bicycling motherfucker. Midstakes makes my blood boil, I get the drive to win when I crank up some Misfits or some Black Flag and it sparks my flow really well. I need my flow to be incentivized because my brain idles a lot. I have mental problems. I have a lot of mental problems. I have more mental problems than that. I am SERIOUSLY fucked up. I won't go into why or how I got this way or any of  the wacky details, the end result is that I could stare at a wall for a week and not blink, not eat, not talk to anyone, and BARELY notice. Anyway the bottom line is that I'm going to keep playing midstakes and I'm sure I'll see you around. 

Life: I'm still living in Worcester, MA and I've been trying to piece together moving for a while now. A combination of laziness and lack of opportunity (or poor variables in general) have kept me in this gigantic mud puddle shit hole. I really need to get the fuck out of here. Priority 1 this year for sure. I found out that my sister is a cokehead. She has 3 kids around that stuff and her boyfriend is one of those retarded gangster types. The guy that still dreams of being a rapper like tupac or eminem and models his lifestyle as if he was ballin' out of control but the only thing he's ballin' out of is the foodstamps he sells at a discounted rate so he can get other shit. The kids don't have shoes, they JUST got beds (sleeping on the floor) and it's just a really shitty situation overall. How do I feel? I'm swimming in a warm pool of apathy. On one hand I'd like to help her and try to get her out of that situation and there's the kids to think about etc. etc. etc. On the other hand you dug your fucking grave havin' kids so young and sticking with this retarded jobless baller. OH YEAH WE BALL OUT, GOT MY HAND ME DOWNS AND A FUCKING FOOD STAMP. Shit is TIGHT! WUT WUT. (yo where's the coke?). So that side of my brain wants her to suffer to the point that she recognizes she may be suffering and why. This will likely never happen, and she likely needs an intervention, and that's likely to never happen, life goes on. I never got along with her anyway. I have a cousin with 4 kids that stayed with an abusive boyfriend for like 12 years or something as well. THIS JUST IN: If your boyfriend punches you in the fucking jaw and gives you bloody noses, he's not your boyfriend. He's probably a control freak and you'll probably end up dead or killing yourself in a bath of regret at a later date. So yeah, wake the fuck up idiots. It takes great loss or great fortune to change a stale comfortable existence. When you're used to droning day in and day out, you're used to the grave you've dug for yourself, you're used to the lack of dreams coming true, accept this, and stop working for a better life, something you love, and things that are important to you, it really takes something tragic or magic to wake you up from that cold coma. I am no different. I am a product of my own decisions or lack thereof.

I finally talked with my father in late December after 16 years. The last contact I had with him was when I was in all sorts of trouble and nobody in family wanted me to live with them, around the age of 14-15, and he was supposed to let me live with him for a while. That lasted 1 day, and he sent me to his grandparents house where I stayed in their attic. I went to school day 1 from that place and ran away at the end of the school day. This ain't no V.C. Andrews book. I wasn't about to live in a fucking attic. There's nothing like getting pinballed around from home to home to instill abandonment issues in you for later in life. The first few girlfriends I had I'm pretty sure I destroyed those relationships with my insecurity. As I had more girlfriends though, I became more numb to all the shit that goes on from both sides of the coin, and at this point I'm pretty apathetic to that stuff too. :D Honestly though I was very thankful to talk with my father after so long. I had a lot of issues with my mother as well but I forgave her a while ago. My family is fucked up :) I mean I know a lot of people in the poker community and tons more in the magic community and I def have some close friends and fucktons of acquaintances but man it's lonely out there. I keep such weird hours, maybe that's the problem. End life ramble. 

 I thought there was going to be a cool string of topics I could talk about but it seems that I'm out for now. I'm considering deleting this blog as well because I know people would rather read about hands I've played or something motivational or meaningful for their poker experience instead of all this ridiculous journal-like bs. The thing is, I can't really write very well unless I'm impassioned and usually when I'm impassioned I'm on some sort of tilt about something, goes with the territory I guess. I haven't even picked up my guitar in like 5 months :( I need some change. Alright, I'm going to crank up some Alice Cooper "Welcome to my Nightmare" and meditate on that shit. 

What, you thought there was actually a monster at the end of this blog? No no no. But I will leave you with this platinum hit....