Holy Money Bags Batman!

Rigby wrote an entry last night. I haven't let him post it yet. Maybe I will later, he tells me it's a whopper.

One of the joys of my day is going to the bank and handing someone money that I will never see again and getting nothing in return. Now I know that's not how it really works, but anyway...

So I have this problem looking people in the eyes sometimes. So I usually look around, stare up at the ceiling or something. But in the bank I have to be careful. I'm at the point where quite often my name appears on a check three times (once where it's made out to me, once where I sign it, once where I endorse it) and when you're dealing with the amounts of money I am people get suspicious. (They know I'm not taking any of those gi-normous checks) So I try not to look around like I'm trying to not look suspicious.

So if I can't look the lady in the face while she's cashing my check, and I can't look up at the ceiling, and I can't look around like I'm casing the joint, there's really only one place I can look...down. See where this one is going yet?

You have to understand that I'm not always looking where my eyes are pointing. It comes from many years of losing my mind and trying to not rip people's arms off. I zone. And then no matter where they are pointed, I see everything.

So, honestly, I wasn't looking where the eyes were pointing in the bank today...which is squarely at the cleavage on this bank teller. She didn't notice, and at first I didn't either, but when I did I felt rather uncomfortable. Although the teller was very pretty she was at least twenty years older than me and I really didn't mean to be staring. So I looked up, but then I was staring at her face, then the ceiling, then the walls, anywhere but there. What was taking her so long?

Left. Right. Up. Down...shit, I forgot. Left. Right. Up. Down...shit. Left, right, up, down...hey...left, right, up, down...and I figured, fuck it. I really wasn't staring, and I couldn't keep throwing furtive glances around the bank if I planned on walking out of there sin handcuffs. So I just gave up and looked down, not at them, but unfortunately in their general direction. I didn't even notice her look up from what she was doing.

"How do you like them?"

I think I shit myself, "B'what happened?"

"Large or small hon?"

Oh Christ, "Duh...what?"

"The bills. How do you like them? Large or small?"

Thank God. "Large."

She smiles.

Into The Woods

Thursday, July 29th 2004
Into The Woods 2:01 AM

Crago is officially out of The Woods, Tim and Todd G. almost done as well. Forti's been gone for awhile. I'm almost done myself. Tomorrow's a new day.
There's always been that sense about The Woods, that something could happen. Even when nothing does you know that something can.
So we're just about out, and I'm just about done with New Brunswick. I'll miss it. I know it. Not going to lie about it. Just going to go with the flow.

So here's something before I go. Something in case you need it, something that makes me happy.

When you're having a bad day, when it's all stacked against you, when you don't know what's next. When nothing else could possibly go wrong...and then it does. I'm saying this because, sometime down the road, when you need me and just don't know it, I can't guarantee I'll be there. So if I'm not, just remember.

I can't stop the rain. And I can't make the sun come out. But I can tell you that it's only water. And there're worse things than being wet.

Goodnight all.

The Last Few of The Last Few

Wednesday, July 28th 2004
Another Goodbye 1:44 AM
The Birchwoods are dead, and this time they won't rise again.  The apartment is empty, I'm the only one here.  There's next to nothing left here.  Just my bed and some junk.  The others have moved on, leaving me here really, to wonder about everything I'm always wondering about.
I dodged all the regular bullets tonight.  The ones that usually find their marks glided by today leaving me standing in the rain with a grin on my face.  I felt...that's it.  I felt. 
After four fantastic years of living here in NB I'm moving on and moving back up North.  It won't be North Haledon though, this time around it's FairLawn.  I don't like it, but I'll make do. 
Everyone talks about how great it must be to have your own place.  But they don't really mean it, they don't understand.  Having your own place is fantastic...when it's with a couple of close friends.  Having your own place when it's just you...my God, am I frightened to see how that one ends.
The show went well tonight  (Just a reminder we're almost done.  If you want to catch us there's only a few left Tuesday nights at nine p.m. (EST) only on WRSU)  Now like I said the show went well, but at some point we got kind of off the handle.  Matt made a few jokes about me being creepy.  They were jokes, that's all.  Nothing less nothing more, but it was almost akin to another joke a few months back that made me feel like a leper.  Here's the thing, it's perfectly cool to joke around with me.  I have a good temper.  There are only a few buttons you can push that would really set me off.  Calling me creepy and me not being sure why is one of those buttons.  I'm too tired to explain right now, but maybe later I will.  Leave it to be said that I felt like a friggin' leper once again. 
I know, I know, it sounds like I'm about to start bitching and moaning again.  But not tonight.  Definitely not tonight.  There's too much to say goodbye to right now.  I should probably get started.  So long New Brunswick...goodnight, godspeed, and thanks for everything.  It's been fun.  Really.

 

Tuesday, July 27th 2004
Osh Kosh B-Gosh 12:55 PM
That's how it goes, right? So anyway...since it's Tuesday morning and Tuesday's have replaced EVERY DAY as my traditional "Day of Darkness" I figured I would get a jump start on the impending insanity and modified depression which will undoubtedly hit me some time after the sun goes down. So after being at the bus yard for 13 hours yesterday I had to put in 3 hours at the office, then another hour or two at home meaning I worked roughly 18 hours yesterday and got absolutely nothing for it. Add to that the fact that first thing this morning I'm back at work and my desk is piled high with papers SOMEONE ELSE SHOULD BE TAKING CARE OF. I've signed my name 176 times today...yes, I counted. Everyone else gets a vacation but me...fuckers. Of course I told them they could go, but it wouldn't have been fair of me not to. I still have to move the rest of my stuff out of the Birchwoods, come to grips with leaving New Brunswick and find a way to properly go out. I also have a radio show tonight, which I am of course looking forward to. It would be better if I could figure out something to do afterwards, but with most of the WRSU Team gone, the SCRU Group gone, and the Birchwoods Crew scattering to the wind there's just nothing to do in New Brunswick...for me that is. I don't know about The Darkness, but right this second I feel madness coming on rather quick. P.S.: While writing this entry I am making a chain rope out of paper clips so that I may hang myself from the light fixture directly above my head in this heinously boring office and no longer be subject to the tedium that is my every day life. P.P.S: I really, really mean it this time. P.P.P.S: It didn't work...but now my ass hurts and I'm out of paperclips.
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Monday, July 26th 2004
Hail To The King Baby 7:18 PM
Call it exhausted optimism but as I pull into hour fourteen of my work day I have this great feeling, tired, but great. I didn't do anything worth anything today. Nothing impressive, or remarkable, or important. Nothing special. I did today what people do everyday, my job. I worked a day more full than most, but it was still only work. But today, with nothing special accomplished, I still felt good. When the last bus pulled into the lot today I nearly pumped my fist in victory. No-shows, breakdowns, accidents, cranky and ungrateful customers, uncooperative employees. I beat it all today. There are usually three managers and one secretary who do this all, today it was just me, and I handled it. And if you don't mind me saying, I kicked ass. After all the talk of love, and loneliness, and the whatnot this is the corniest emotion I've felt in a long time. I feel like I accomplished something, and although I know I haven't the comfort I feel is in just that. Even though I haven't done a thing...I feel like I have. Welcome to the rest of my life...
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What A Way To Go...Of Course

Sunday, July 25th 2004

What A Way To Go...Of Course. 1:41 PM

So let me tell you how I finished out my last Saturday night as an official New Brunswick resident.

It was about midnight and I was sitting alone in my room talking to Matt on the computer about the 9/11 Commission Report. He asked if I was reading the whole book, I said yes because "I have no life and it's 567 pages of time filler." I think he knew I wasn't joking.

I hadn't eaten since noon and I was starting to get hungry so I decide I'm going to run out and get a sandwich from Wawa. I forgot to bring a fresh change of clothes so to go out I had to actually get "dressed up". Which essentially for me is a button down shirt and slacks...all black of course because I like to look like I'm about to knock over a convenience store. I get in the Cadillac, which isn't really mine of course, and head out for a sandwich.

So of course I cruise around New Brunswick for awhile hoping to run into someone I know, and of course that doesn't happen but as I head out Somerset towards Wawa I pass a cop in a speed trap. I'm not speeding though so I'm not worried.

 I head into Wawa, get my chicken sandwich and some chocolate milk and head out to go back to one of my final miserable nights in a place I love. As I pass the cop car going in the opposite direction, his lights go on, of course. Shit.

Now look, I wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't in a good mood. This was about to turn into a very bad night for both me and this bonehead who was pulling me over.

 5-0 gets out of the car and saunters up to the window of the Caddy and this is the exchange, nearly verbatim, which takes place.

Officer: License and registration?
Palomba: No problem officer.
(At this point I remember this isn't my car and I don't know where the registration is. I dutifully hand over my license which he glances at then shines a light in my face.)
Bacon: So where are you headed tonight Chris?
(As if he friggin' knows me)
Palomba: Nowhere in particular sir.
Pig: Second time I've seen you drive by in the last five minutes.
 (Is that a crime?)
Palomba: Yes sir.
Dipshit: So where are you coming from?
Palomba: Wawa.
Dumbass: Where?
Palomba: Wawa.
Prick: What?
Palomba: (slowly as if talking to a moron) W-A-W-A
(So now the guy thinks I'm making fun of him, which, well let's face it...I am. But he started it.)
Dullard: Do you have a problem?
(You have no idea...)
Palomba: No officer, but I don't understand why you pulled me over. Officer Hard-on: I'm just doing my job...
Palomba: And I'm just out getting a sandwich.
Captain Obvious: At one in the morning?
Palomba: Look at me pal, do I look like this if the first sandwich I've had at one in the morning?
Duh: Excuse me?
Palomba: Look, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm bored and I'm having a real shitty night. All I want to do is go back to my fucking apartment, eat my fucking chicken sandwich and drink my fucking chocolate milk in peace. Is that too much to ask? I wasn't doing anything wrong, so why the hell are you bothering me?
(So now I figure I'm absolutely done for. I've pushed my luck with cops before and gotten away with it, but this time I may have gone a little too far. I wasn't yelling, but I sure as hell wasn't whispering. I figure I've got about five seconds before he asks me to step out of the car and about a minute before I'm sitting in the backseat of the cop car.)
Officer: Alright.

With that the guy looks at my license one more time, shines the light in my eyes, and tosses my license in through the open window. He gets in the car, shuts his lights off, and pulls away.

I sit there laughing my ass off for the next five minutes or so. I go home to my cold empty boring apartment, eat my chicken sandwich, drink my chocolate milk and lay in bed staring at the ceiling for the next four hours trying to get to sleep. Of course...
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Saturday, July 24th 2004

A Long Time Ago, In A Far Away Place 11:34 PM

I helped Crago move out of the Woods today, tomorrow it's my turn. It will be the official end of my time here in New Brunswick, although I hope to find a reason to spend as much time here as I can from now on. I doubt that will happen. It all got me thinking though, about the people I've gotten to know in the past five years, and ultimately the people I've gotten to know throughout my life.

In grade school I had three good friends: Corey, Guy, and Nick. I knew Nick first, and he's the only one I've seen in the past ten years. He's always been a good friend, but since I still see him...I'm not going to talk about him right now. Corey and Guy were different.

Corey was at least six inches taller than me, and I was always taller than everyone else. He was a soft spoken almost shy sort of guy who never had a bad thing to say about anyone. Everybody liked him, but he just didn't seem to belong in a place like North Haledon. He moved to Pennsylvania the summer after fourth grade, I'm sure he was very happy there. I never saw him again.

Guy and I were best friends. We did just about everything together, his brothers were friends with my brother, his mother was friends with my mother. We spent pretty much every afternoon at either my house or his house. He was always cooler than me, I was always the fat dorky friend. It didn't make a difference to Guy though, we just got along. Halfway through sixth grade his family upped and moved to California. He came back once or twice and we hung out for a little while. Then I heard that he'd come back for a weekend and not called me. He'd hung out with some other folks, but hadn't even called me. I didn't hold it against him, but I also never heard from him again.

The guys I hung out with in high school are all still around in one way or another. We rarely see each other, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me, but it's something I accept. Sometimes we get two or three of us together to hang out. We see each other at weddings, or run into each other in a bar somewhere, but it's not the same. I understand though, we had a good run.

You can tell a lot about your relationship with someone by the way you say goodbye. When I left Marist I shook my roommate's hand, said good luck and was gone. He was a great guy, but neither one of us pretended like we'd gotten along particularly well, or like we'd ever planned on seeing each other again. About two months before graduation I ran into a guy I'd been in a bunch of classes with. When we parted ways he said "good luck", I asked "with what?" and he replied, "with the rest of your life." We both knew that barring an extraordinary coincidence we'd never see each other again. I didn't even go to say goodbye to the SCRU folks, I just wasn't up for it. It's not that I will particularly miss all of them, it's just I wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye to any of them. It was different with WRSU. I owe those guys so much. It even looked for awhile like I was actually friends with all of them (hell, maybe I was). Saying goodbye there was not easy. But we all also said goodbye with the idea that we would see each other again...or they all did. I knew how it was going to go. It couldn't be any other way. Maybe some day I'll tell that story.

So when I pack up and move out of the Birchwoods...it's the end of another one. This becomes another one of those places I passed through on the way to somewhere I may never get to.
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Zero Note

"Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"                                                                   -Jack Nicholson, Batman
Last night I dreamed of speeding tickets and loose women.  I can't explain it either.
I've been working my ass off at the bus company, wondering if this is how I'm meant to waste some of my more formative years.  But at the same time I've been spending too much time thinking about other people's jobs.  Maybe it's the influence of the work bloggers.  I know plenty of people who are just plain unhappy with what they do.  They want more, they want want better, they want something else.  I want something else too, but it has nothing to do with my job, nothing to do with money or a career.  I sometimes think they have a better chance of being rich and famous then I do of getting what I want.

It's almost depressing going through the tri-town area that made up my old high school.  I see people five years removed from school still working as cashiers at Foodtown, pumping gas at the Exxon Station, and delivering for the pizza place.  All good honest jobs, but these aren't people who should be doing that stuff.  There are better things out there than that for them.  On the flipside I see people who did their own thing after high school and are now doing ok without having gone to college, it's like they got a four year head start on life and while I'm sure many of them struggled they seem to be doing ok.

This leaves me with some great questions.  The foremost being, why did I need to go to college?  The answer is simple, I didn't.  I would have far more money if I hadn't, might even have some semblance of a life.  I highly doubt I would be in the unpleasant state of mind I am in if I hadn't just experienced the five year mindfuck that is Rutgers University.  So after a lot of heartache and introspection I can tell you with complete honesty, I did not need to go to college.  So the next question is, was it worth it?  Was it worth giving up what I did, risking what I did, being in the situation I am in now? The answer is simple, absolutely.

The first year of college was an absolute waste.  Not just a waste of school, but a waste of life.  I was dead for a year.  I couldn't get anything going, I could not be who I was nevermind who I wanted to be.  The Darkness had me bad.

The next three years (my first three at Rutgers) consisted of one unbelievably annoying, frustrating year and two years that were fun and interesting (although I can't remember why).  But that leaves one year, and for the most part it's the year that you've been with me here for. 

Let me tell you about that year in a way I haven't before.  Let me tell you something you may not have been able to tell from all of this (<---If perchance you are reading this aloud make sure you say "this" with great scorn and disregard).  The last year has been one of the greatest of my life.

I didn't get to travel the world, didn't get to see amazing things in amazing places.  I didn't get to fall in love (nor did I date, or screw, or anything else that people would think love might be).  I did learn to love a lot of people, but not in a way they'd like or understand, hell I'm not sure I like it, caring about so many people with so little reason.  Makes me sort of vulnerable.  Ay, there's the rub.

 I changed this year.  Not physically, not necessarily in the way I act, or who I am.  My expectations changed, what I wanted changed.  What I thought of as reality...changed.  It's all new to me.

I had fun, I cared about things, I moped and sulked and wallowed and did everything else I usually would...but there was something that made it all different.  And for once that something happened to be me.  It was because of it, because of them, because of everything...but in the end, it was me.

I could lose that, or not.  I don't know.  Time will tell, we will see.  And if you stick around long enough so will you.

Tip Them Up And Let's Say Goodbye

Palomba's gotta say goodbye to some people, to some things tonight.  It's going to be a tough one.  I'm getting ready, are you with me?  Are you?

STAND WITH ME...AND I WILL BLEED FOR YOU.

And Me, The Dreamer of Dreams

So it's me and A.W.E. O’Shaughnessy hanging out down by the schoolyard shooting craps when Officer Leroy comes up and...ah, forget it.

I am a daydreamer.  In what seems like an endless line of pointlessly sober confessions this is just the latest. 

I spend half my life in my own head trying to think about whether or not I really want to get out.  I used to make the excuse that I wanted to be a writer, so to daydream was natural I was thinking of stories, things to put on paper.  But that's not really the case anymore.  I daydream about things I want, about things I can't do, about people I can never be around again, and conversations I've never had.

There are the set-to-form dreams.  The ones where the same thing happens over and over again, the fantasy daydreams.  The ones everyone has, where they do something great (they win the game, get the girl, defy the odds).

More common are the daydreams about conversations I never had, or never will have.  They always involve people I know, they always involve me talking to them.  They always involve things being said that will never be said in real life.  The conversations either hold this sense of humor or this fluidity which is often lacking in my real conversations.  They aren't always spectacular by nature, sometimes they're rather run of the mill.  But even then they're still fantastic enough that I keep having that sort of daydream.

Then there are the ones that bother me.  The ones that come up in certain situations.  When I'm bored I dream of things I could do.  The problem is I know they won't happen.  I dream of getting a phonecall from people I know won't call me.  I think, "If this happens, I can do this, and be here in time to do this."  When I know very well the first "this" won't happen at all.

There are the "I Should Have Said" or the "I Shouldn't Have Said" daydreams.  These usually tag along with "The Fix".  It's when I go back in my head (reliving the whole scene really) and think of the different ways I could have done certain things.  The points I could have made.  I remember once sitting in a bar and ending a conversation with, "I just don't get how you could love someone and then not."  I should have gone on to add, "I think in my life everyone I've ever loved, I still do."  And of course there's the flipside of the things I shouldn't have said like, "You don't know me very well." and "Was I wrong to..."  And that sort of thing.

There are the revelatory daydreams where I'm talking to someone (usually myself) and realize something I probably didn't realize before.  Like yesterday I realized that sometimes when I speak I use extra words, not so that it sounds better, but because I'm not as quick as everyone else and need the extra seconds to catch up.

There are the waking nightmares which I will discuss on another day.

I think the worst part of these dreams is that they always seem to involve people I know, people I care about.  I hate that.  I feel like I'm doing them some horrible wrong by even thinking about them when I know they're not thinking about me.  And to make things worse I'm thinking about them doing and saying things they'd never say and never do.  I... I can't help it, I'm sorry.  I'm so fucking sorry.

I used to be a decent writer, I've lost so much of that.  I'm going to try and get a little of it back.  But that can wait till later, this one's almost done.  Time for you to go back to what you were doing and me to go back to my dreams.

So you...the livers of life, and Me...the dreamer of dreams come together here but for a minute.  And while you wonder why I'm writing I wonder why you're reading and how I even know you're there.  But in the end that doesn't matter...because even if you weren't there I'd simply dream you were.

I'm Not Much Of A Professional, But I Make One Hell Of An Amateur

We kicked ass last night.  Nailed that friggin' show down with a sledge hammer and a pair of nine inch steel spikes.  Couldn't have been happier with the way that turned out.  Given everything that has happened since then has been an absolute waste of my time, but last night's show was great. 

I don't think it matters that I suck at radio, I mean I'm only there for another month or two, but even if I was staying it just doesn't matter.  Everyone else got better as it went, which made the fact that I got worse easy to cover up.  Last week though I think Matt and I were both off, which meant that he couldn't cover for me like he had the week before.  Last week sucked.  This week was great.  Isn't that how it's supposed to go?  You learn from your mistakes then try not to make them again? 

So life tempered my otherwise good mood post-WRSU last night and resulted in an honest, although not altogether well-written entry.  It came up on Upsaid instead of here, that's just how it usually shakes out.  But I decided to write this little note here today, it just felt more appropriate.

If everyone understood me I would never have to worry about anyone hating me.  I wouldn't make anyone nervous, or afraid, or creeped out.  Not everyone would love me, hell most people still wouldn't like me, but no one would think I was anything I was not.

The Palombonian Enigma
My thoughts they wander much like my soul,
I often wonder which way they will go.
But if I knew, well then I would know,
and I wouldn't have to (Wonder/Wander)?
 
http://www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Last Night :From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Wednesday, July 21st 2004



One Small Step 12:34 AM




It's time for some truth. Not the whole truth, but nothing but the truth. Like all good shows it starts with an admission.

I admit, I almost quit. I almost died. Now don't get ahead of me here, it's not like it sounds. So don't get ahead...but try and keep up.

It was one of those make-or-break Mondays where I was never sure if I was coming or going, never sure if it was the beginning or the end. I didn't wake up thinking about dying but it wasn't long after that I realized something was different. Looking back I can say, with absolute certainty, that the week leading up to that day was one of the worst of my life. ( That Week ) I think you can see where I was coming into that Monday. Funny part is, the shit didn't hit the fan till that morning. Like I said I didn't wake up thinking about dying. In fact as I recall I woke up thinking about how great that day was going to be. I was kidding myself, and somewhere inside I think I knew it.

So that day when things started going wrong I was, for once, surprised. I thought I had friends, I thought I had something going, and to watch it all crumble in a matter of minutes I was shocked.

Now I acted like something had saved me. Acted like I was ok going into that night, but the truth was I was far from ok. I acted like I was ok because I could feel the breath being sucked from me. I thought for sure I was a dead man, I could act like I was alive because only I knew the truth.

I knew my night was about to go south quickly, but I didn' think it mattered. I didn't know how bad it was about to get . I started to lose it earlier that night, and when it looked like no one would show up my whole paranoid delusion about the world abandoning me started to play out big time.

Again though, it didn't matter, I was done. I was dead. I could see myself walking home and in midstride just falling to my knees and not getting back up. My breath would leave me, I'd topple over and expire right there on the sidewalk, and then I would simply cease to exist. No one would even notice.

 But then...well, then. This is where it gets tricky. You can't talk about certain things without people taking it the wrong way. If I say "she saved me" people assume I'm saying more then I am. There is nothing else to it but that. She saved me, she didn't mean to, or try to, and I'm absolutely certain she has no idea she did...but she saved me. I wish I could tell her that, so that she could know that the only reason I'm still here (or still anywhere) is because she did something so minor and inconsequential as showing up. But just like there's a right way and a wrong way to take things, there's a right way and a wrong way to say things...and the right way to say this is to not say it at all. I went home that night and I felt alive. No explanation, no reason, no sense to it at all. I was gone, and then I wasn't.

A lot happened between then and now. A lot. But if I told the whole truth at once...well why would you have to come back?

 I figured out one of my problems in the interim. I was in a hole, and thought I could climb out. I was wrong. I can't climb out the way I came in, I have to dig straight on through to the other side. It's dangerous, but...someone once told me that if you hit rock bottom hard enough, you'll bounce. So the harder you hit the ground, the farther you'll bounce back. Let's just say I plan on hitting the ground very, very hard.


Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Thoroughly Inspiring Nonsense: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Tuesday, July 20th 2004



Thoroughly Inspiring Nonsense 6:26 PM


On the off chance anyone can use some uplifting as much as me today...
"The gambling known as business looks with severe disfavor on the business known as gambling." - Ambrose Bierce
 
"Whenever anyone has offended me, I try to raise my soul so high that the offense cannot reach it." - Descartes
 
"It is not enough to have a good mind. The main thing is to use it well." - Descartes
 
"Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal." - Albert Camus
 
 "My life has been filled with terrible misfortune; most of which never happened." - Montaigne
 
"Scratching is one of nature's sweetest gratifications, and the one nearest at hand." - Montaigne
 
"Some folks are wise and some otherwise." - Josh Billings
 
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde
 
 On second thought I like it better when I do it myself...
 
For all the strange desires that beat us on our way we have the blessed comfort of tomorrow for today.
 
Stand with me and I will bleed for you.
 
There is no light...we run on.
 
WRSU : I'll be there making a fool out of myself at 9:00 P.M. tonight, better tune in when you can we're both running out of time. You know what the hardest part of Tuesday morning is? Knowing that Tuesday night is waiting at the end.

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Or Did I Blink?

Hmmmm....
 
Strange.  There was someone here yesterday, I could feel it.  Today, that feeling is gone.  Today I am talking to myself again.
 
It's like I turned around, and when I looked back you were gone.  Or did I blink?  And you took the opportunity to disappear back into the shadows.  Consider yourselves lucky, you weren't here long enough for me to get a good grasp on who you are.  You weren't here long enough to get into my head so maybe you weren't here long enough for me to get into yours. 
 
It doesn't matter.  I'll find you.  I'm always watching, and since you're reading this I know...you're back.

So here's the simple question, where did you go?  Were you busy today?  Was there something wrong at work?  Did you just need a break?  What happened?  I'm curious.  Concerned.  Aw, forget it.  I guess you'll be back, and even if you're not...I will be.
 
www.upsaid.com/futurerem
 

It's About Freakin' Time

Well hello there.  And if you don't mind me asking, where the bloody hell have you been all this time?

I've been trying to wait patiently, but then of course if you know me you know that patience isn't one of my stronger virtues.  Come to think of it, you know I don't have any virtues.
 
This isn't a dual post, it doesn't link back to www.upsaid.com/futurerem ... no this one is all on its own.  And it's saying, with the utmost gratitude, thanks for finally showing up.
 
I know when people are watching over on Upsaid, I can feel it, and even if I can't there's always been that webcounter thingy.  Here I wasn't able to feel it...before.  Now I can, and for some reason I see you out there. So like I said, hey, thanks for showing up...and I'll talk to you later, unless of course you talk to me first.

The Run Up To The End: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem


Sunday, July 18th 2004



Five Seemingly Useless Things We Learned In College 12:02 AM




1. Any night spent doing anything with anyone is automatically better than the night before, even if you can't remember the night before. 2. Money is the root of all evil, and money is absolutely necessary to survive, ergo evil is absolutely necessary to survive. 3. I am uptight for a reason, and am best left that way. Any attempts to change this will, without a doubt, result in the disaster of a lifetime. I am uptight for a reason, asking me to "relax", "unwind", or "chill out" will most likely lead to bad things like me talking too much or ripping innocent bystanders arms off. 4. Laugh a little, love a little, live a little. Do any of these things too much or in the wrong way and you might as well bend over and begin learning to enjoy the unholy assfucking that is real life. 5. Things you love will go away, you will never be exactly the person you planned on being but sometimes you can be better, "friend" and "friendly" are different things, "love" and "love" are different things, no matter how much you want something there's a damn good chance you're not going to get it and finally...even if you see it coming...it all ends too soon.
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Saturday, July 17th 2004



Vintage 3:21 PM




Today is Rutgers Young Alumni Day down at Bar "A". I should have gone and checked it out...but, well, you know. Last night was one of those strange nights were every minute of sleep was stocked three deep with dreams. I remember them all. The first one was awkward and strange, it made me angry and at least a little bit sad. There were a group of us in a field, sitting in the dark. We were at a table, a picnic table almost but not one that would have naturally been there. It was a strange mix of people that shouldn't ever have come together, but for some reason in this dream we were all there. We talked, and laughed, and had an all around good night. As things came to an end people began to stand up and ready themselves to go, they shook everyones hands but mine. It was pitch black but as people started their cars in the distance their headlights danced across the few of us left sitting at the table. It was so dark I could barely see the two people sitting across from me at the table, and then, in a brief flash of light I saw the girl lean in and give the guy a quick kiss. They weren't two people who should have been kissing, but by the time I could say anything the lights had gone and it was completely dark again. "Did I just see what I think I just saw?" I asked in shock. The girl giggled, "Yes you did." She stood up and walked away. The guy and I started laughing, I have no idea why. The second dream almost made more sense, alright, no it didn't. The second dream took place in this amazing office building that apparently we had free run of. I was sitting in my office talking to these two girls. One was sitting in the chair next to me and the other on the edge of my desk. There was a guy sitting near the window looking out intently at something. I sat there talking and laughing with the two girls but every few minutes someone else I knew would show up, we'd chat for a minute, make plans to get together, and they'd move on. But then I'd have to start the conversation with the girls over and over again from the very beginning. It was like I was building up to something, but could never quite get there. Eventually the girl in the chair looks at her watch and says they have to be going, the girl on the desk agrees and they both leave. I walk over to the guy sitting by the window and look out at the landscape with him. "You know I rather like it here," he says. "Yeah, me too. " I answer. The third dream was more fun, but more troublesome. There was a large group of us in a ridiculously fancy hotel. We were looking through our suite and marvelling at all the fantastic stuff that was in there. Maybe some day I'll describe it, but the sheer decadence of the hotel isn't what's important here. It's what I was thinking. For some reason as I was walking through this monsterous hotel all I could think about was, "Don't think about them." "Don' talk about her." "Don't worry about it." "Don't ask why." This mad line of logic, which I didn't understand then and probably don't understand now was all I could think of during this strange little dream. The final dream was less of a dream and more of a vision. I was walking in the rain, but there were these loud noises coming at me in waves. The rain got harder, thunder crashed, lightning lit the sky. I felt weak, and fell to my knees. I knelt there in the rain waiting for a slowly growing scream that never came. So here's the thing, here's the deal, here's how this is going to go. I felt like I was back for a minute yesterday, felt like everything was better. Felt like it was time to tell the whole truth about some things. Time to be honest. So here's how it's going to go. If you care, or you're curious, or you're bored as could be then stick around, see how this all plays out. If you're worried about what you might read, well...go now. I'll let you know when it's safe to come back. You want the whole story? All you have to do is ask...and in the words of Senor Lovedaddy that's the triple truth, Ruth.
Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry







Friday, July 16th 2004



Look At That "S" Car Go 10:29 AM




So after the mindfuck that was yesterday I was looking forward to a nice quiet day today. I think I've mentioned before that I'm the kind of guy that needs something to look forward to. I don't do but one thing a week so that thing has to be something I enjoy. For the last year it had been WRSU, but unfortunately now as my time there comes to a close and the relationships I built there surprisingly disintegrate I need to find something else to do. Now the old crew from the old school is still around, so we decide in the tradition of all people growing up that we'll start our own little poker night. It's supposed to be Thursdays and last night I was really looking forward to it...then everyone started cancelling on me. The bastards...so anyway that combined with everything else combined with the continued disappointments of Mondays, the plummeting emotionless void of Tuesday, and the brilliantly troubled Wednesday left me rather reeling. I've said the same things so many times here, I'm running out of ways to say them. Here's one more. Je suis né un homme, suis devenu un monstre, et mourrai pour l'éternité. Il n'y a aucun léger... nous courent dessus. Can't conjugate, can't spell, can't speak French...but I think I at least got some of the words right. Maybe tomorrow we'll try Chinese...
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Quik-E Mart Epiphanies 10:10 AM




So this morning I'm in 7-11 getting an orange juice and picking up my regular copies of Newsweek, Time, and Weekly News and World Report so that I can stay well informed. I toss the magazines up on the counter and the guy who's ringing me up starts tapping the Newsweek cover with his finger. He looks over his shoulder to make sure his boss isn't listening and asks in a quick spurt of words, "DooYooSooportHeem?" The look on my face was enough to tell him I didn't understand, so he tapped the cover again and spoke slower this time, "John Keerreey...Doo Yoo Sooport Heem?" I nodded and replied with what has become the motto of liberal minded youth everywhere, "Sure, but even if I didn't anything is better than Bush." The cashier checked over his shoulder again and whispered even lower this time, "Are you a born American?" The quickness with which I responded "Of Course" embarrasses me now because obviously this guy wasn't. "Yoo vote Keerreey?" he asked. "Yeah, Kerry and Edwards, all the way." But then I thought about it. I was a sophomore in college during the last election. I didn't vote for President, although I did vote in all the local elections. I was a kid and didn't think it right that people could guilt you into voting, I thought that since I didn't want either man to be President that I shouldn't be forced to vote for the lesser of two evils. So Al Gore and George W. Bush both got elected without any help from me. This time I realize things are different even if you don't want Kerry to be President you need to recognize that George W. Bush isn't the right man for the job. I don't blame all Republicans, I'm not really a Democrat, but Bush is just not the right guy for this country...he wasn't four years ago, and look what's happened since then. Let's not make the same mistake twice. "Yoo are very loocky. Yoo vote. Yoo doo good thing." I kind of just nodded. "I wish I could vote," he continued, "George Boosh no good. No good for Ameerican." No good for U.S." Here's this guy, working for minimum wage, far away from home, not much older than me. He's working hard and paying taxes, he cares about this country, this country which people won't even let him call his yet. Here's this guy who busts his ass every day just to get by and what's he wishing for? Something the rest of us take for granted. God damn. I nodded as I headed out of the store, the guy didn't even care if his boss was listening now. He wasn't yelling, but he wasn't whispering anymore, "Keerreey and Eedwords all the weey!" I'm completely ashamed that I'm not anywhere near as enthusiastic about it all as that guy was. Completely and utterly ashamed.
Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Oh Fuck The Proper Titles I Just Spent Twice As Much Money As I've Ever Had And Am In Quite The Mood: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Yeah it's Palomba and yeah this is all from www.upsaid.com/futurerem and yeah it's all from earlier in the week, but you who I am talking to don't really exist so what difference does it make?

Wednesday, July 14th 2004

Inner Dialogue | 11:59 PM

"I'm beginning to think it's the sort of thing that can't be beaten."
"Why's that?"
"Because if it could, I would have beaten it already."
"My God, you're giving up?"
"No...I'm just not going to fight so hard for awhile."
"But you said..."
"If you let it go at its own pace, it just gets dark quicker."
"What's changed?"
"Nothing."

There is no light...we run on.

Entry posted by King | Zero note [Add] | www | E-Mail this entry


You're The Crazy Person Other Crazy People Look To For Inspiration... | 11:30 PM

Somehow, I take that as a compliment.

I can guarantee you that I've thought of at least one thing worth talking about here since last time I posted. But I'm working on being brief so I won't tell you what it was.

Entry posted by King | Zero note [Add] | www | E-Mail this entry


My Left Eye | 8:38 PM

If you read this yesterday you know about the spot on my left eye. It's been there for about four years. Never goes away...ever. I always see it, sometimes it blends in to what I'm looking at so much that I don't notice it, but it's there. Funny thing is that for some reason, today, it wasn't.

I can't explain it, but it just wasn't there. I didn't notice till about fifteen minutes ago but when I think back I'm absolutely certain of the fact that it hasn't been there all day long.

I wanted to be sure it was gone before I wasted an entry on it and trust me it was gone, but as I was typing the first sentence of the first paragraph here...it came back.

It would all be funnier if it wasn't true.

Entry posted by King | Zero note [Add] | www | E-Mail this entry




Tuesday, July 13th 2004

Tonight's Mistakes And Why In The Long Run They Don't Really Matter | 11:37 PM

Shit...

I was really, really atrocious tonight. I had nothing. Couldn't get a thing going. I mean my voice sounded fine, but I wasn't saying anything worth saying. I feel really bad because there were points during the year where I was actually almost decent, and now that Matt is coming into his own and doing really well on the show...I'm just not holding up my end. I hate that feeling, that feeling where I'm holding someone else back. And to make things worse I hate bailing on people, so I don't want to just up and go while he's stuck there covering for the next guy who is running late. Thing is he's probably better off alone there (and I think he's starting to know it). And besides I'm sure he had places to go, and I was just going back to the woods, so if anyone should have wanted to bail out early it should have been him...but he hung in there, so I did too. Mistake #1.

Mistake #2. At some point in the year I began to believe the hype. That maybe I was good at something, that maybe I could do something that not everyone could do. Guess what? Don't believe the hype. Matt, Julie, Corey, Rob, John...all better than me. Every single one of them, I'm not sure they all realized it, but they definitely were. I was ok, nothing to brag about. It's almost the same with Nick, Forti, Gonzo, etc. They each have their own thing that they want to do, that they intend to do. I mean I have mine, and I'm content with it, but it seems like that's all there is for me. What about everything else? Everyone else seems to string it together, why can't I?

Mistake #3. I taught myself my morals and values. I decided what was important early on and I held onto it. I still do. I decided that friends and family are more important then money and business so even though I have, in essence, become a business man I still have my priorities. Problem is my family sucks, I don't see my friends very often and, in the past year, I have tended to mistake "friendliness" for "friendship". How is that one of tonight's mistakes? I don't know. And by the way, even with the recognition of the mistake, I'll still call them all friends.

Mistake #4. I drive 45 minutes to an hour each way to do a sixty minute radio show that no one listens to. For some reason this still holds my interest, is still something I enjoy doing, is something I am going to continue to do until the boss tells me not to. Maybe I should keep reminding him of that...that all he has to do is tell me to go away.

Tonight's fifth and final mistake...this. See I sometimes act like I don't know that this is nothing special. I do. I know exactly how not special this is, but I keep coming here anyway. Over and over and over again. People think it's all about me, but it isn't. I swear. I read everyone else's and a lot of them sound just like me...and that's why I have hope. Because sitting here, alone, bored, fighting off the afflictions in my cozy little corner of the Birchwoods...I know that there are thousands of others out there just like me, now how come we can't figure out a way to solve these problems together?

Hell, I'm in a pretty good mood. Bored and lonely, but in a pretty good mood.

Entry posted by King | Zero note [Add] | www | E-Mail this entry

The Plug And Pulling It

It looks like I'm pulling the plug on this one sometime next week. Project Montaigne never really took off, too bad. Should have known better than to try anything ambitious. Blogspot was nice, Xanga was fairly useless and I never even managed to get typepad and livejournal going...so yeah, no one is reading this so I don't know who I'm talking to (as opposed to usual when I just acknowledge the fact I'm talking to myself.). Anyway if you do happen to read this I'll still be over on good old boring Upsaid at www.upsaid.com/futurerem ... take a look sometime when you're bored, my overwhelming patheticness sometimes entertains people.

I Didn't Die And I Aint' Complainin', I Ain't Blamin' You : Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem

I Didn't Die And I Ain't Complainin', I Ain't Blamin' You. | 2:24 PM

I didn't know that the words you said to me
meant more to me than they ever could you?
I didn't lie and I ain't sayin'
I told the whole truth.
I didn't know that this game we were playin'
even had a set of rules.

I never forget a face. But twice now I've been confused. Both times it involved the spot on my left eye. This morning I was in a store and the spot was all fuzzy so I could barely see out of my left eye. My right eye was crystal clear. I saw someone I thought I knew from high school. Now it's been over five years, but still I politely said hello. Her reaction made me wonder if it was who I thought it was, what if I was wrong? What if I said hello to a complete stranger and she spent the rest of the day wondering who the fuck I was?

The other time was the notorious night when I was really drunk. For a lot of people that could be a lot of nights. For me it was just that one. While I was stumbling out of the bar I thought I saw someone who was surprised to see me at that point. I vaguely remember throwing my hands up and saying, "Hey I puked!" something that would be strange for most people but since I'm sick on a daily basis doesn't faze me. She said she would forget she saw me (a nice gesture) but a few days later I found out that I might not have been talking to who I thought I was talking to. You can blame it on the alcohol, but I won't, I blame it on the eye.

Much thanks to Modest Mouse for the narrative lyrics for today.

I watched the drunk bus video last night. I now officially recognize that as a mini-adventure. I also now recognize that it was in direct relation to one of the worst nights of my life.

I sat down to write an excellent entry at about 4 o'clock this morning. It was a follow up to an entry I remember writing last week. When I went back to look at the last entry...it wasn't there. Apparently I never actually wrote it. Too bad, the follow up was a good one.

I might come back and change this whole entry. Make it sound more profound.

It's a small world and I'm a big man. Not in the "important egotistical" way, more in the "I take up a lot space" kind of way.

I was driving today, listening to this song (the one interspersed throughout the entry) when I came to a red light. I was humming along to the song when The Fix hit me hard sending a lightning bolt right up my spine and rattling around in my skull. It surprised me so damn much I practically jumped out of my seat and smacked my head on the sunroof. There were a few post attack twitches added in for good measure and when I finally settle myself I look across at the car next to me and see a very confused looking police officer staring back. I smile, nod and move on.

So tonight I migrate south, like the birds in the winter. I hit the woods and see what's going on, hit www.nj.com/wrsu and do my show. (Click the link at 9 o'clock and listen in if you have nothing better to do, hell you could be a real freak and call the on-air line...) I doubt anyone will be around so I'll head back to the woods, beat down The Afflictions and try and get some sleep. But hey, who knows, only one thing is fairly certain. If I make it to New Brunswick in one piece, I'll be back here tonight.


I've got the time, I got the hours,
I got the days, I got the weeks.
I could say to myself
I've got the words but I can't speak.

Well I was done, done, done
With all the fuck, fuck, fucking around...

I wish, but once, you could hear my voice.

This Entry Made More Sense With The God Damn Picture So Go Look At It Here: www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Fuck the format...here you go.

A Six Inch Tall Snowman In July | 1:09 AM

Let's not kid ourselves by guessing at questions we already know the answers to.

Wasting money, wasting time.
Now you're getting out of line.
Why the fuck won't you be my-eye-ine...

Let's not pretend that there's any other reason for me to be here. It's to talk to you, yeah you. You the one who is sitting there thinking, is he talking to me? Why on earth would he be talking to me? How does he even know I'm reading this? Holy shit. What if he really is talking to me? Yeah, that's right...YOU!

You who is wondering why you bother reading this at all, you who is wondering who the fuck this guy thinks he is. You who wonders if anyone is watching, well let me tell you, someone is always watching...hell, sometimes it's me.

Maybe you know me, maybe you don't. Maybe you have your own blog, maybe you don't. Maybe you're as fucked up as I am, maybe you're not. Doesn't matter. See I assume you're watching...because I know I am.

There's this thing I constantly think about when I'm with the people who are unlucky enough to be friends with me. I think, "Damn, what if this is the last time I ever see them?" And of course if I ever said that they would, almost to a person, reassure me it was not. But I know better. I do. I know things they might not I suppose. I also know it doesn't matter because until the day I die anyone I call a friend, no matter how often or how rarely I see them, will always be considered a friend by me.

I know. You were expecting something different from me this time around, I'm almost sorry to disappoint.



I'm like a six inch tall snowman in July...just barely hanging on.

A Pair Of Fools: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"In Lieu Of My Story"
By Palomba (KING)

Saturday, July 10th 2004

In Lieu Of My Story | 11:03 PM

Earlier tonight I watched The Station Agent , it wasn't one of the best movies of all time, but I really, really liked it. It struck a chord with me. It's going to sound silly, or stupid, or sweet...but I understood what it felt like to be Finbar McBride.

Months ago I went and saw The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, I saw it alone, and in the weeks that followed I talked to a lot of people about it. It was a good movie, on about the same level as The Station Agent if you ask me. And well I enjoyed the movie and loved the fact that I could talk to people about it, it didn't hit me in the same way The Station Agent did.

See people could see themselves in Joel Barrish, they wanted to forget things. Unpleasant memories, old relationships, mistakes and the like. I didn't see myself in Joel, but I do see myself in Fin. Fin is a dwarf, I'm a fat ugly bastard. Fin spends all his time around trains, I spend all my time around school busses. Fin has Olivia and Joe, I have...well let's not get into who I consider friends, it's the kind of conversation that can only end badly. With at least me getting hurt.

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know how many times I can say that today. I'm not feeling poetic, not feeling profound. I'm just feeling...simple...as well as very, very small and inconsequential



Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"Reject X Rides Again"
By Palomba (KING)

Sunday, July 11th 2004

Reject X Rides Again | 5:29 PM

I felt it today. In one of this afternoon's many moments of laziness I felt that longing for something more, that longing for something better.

I've come to the conclusion that a man only has enough life in him to chase one uncatchable dream. It can be fame or fortune, power or pleasure, maybe even pain. It can be so many things, and sure, if you're lucky you can have them all. But some of us just aren't that lucky. I know I'm not.

I supposed you can really chase as many of those dreams as you'd like, but you probably won't catch a single one. You need to focus. Put all your eggs in one basket. Pick the dream that you most want to chase, even if you're convinced you can't catch it.

So what's it going to be hotshot? Fame or Fortune? How about neither? How about something simpler, something I want more than anything else?

It's about time for me to make some decisions.

Bless Me Father For I Have Sinned: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"Bless Me Father For I Have Sinned"
By Palomba (KING)

Bless Me Father For I Have Sinned | 5:58 PM

Another night. Another night. Another night.

All the same, never change. Another night.

I'm sitting alone again on a Saturday night. I have nowhere to go. There's no one else here.

It's not that I don't know where everyone is, I could find them. Haledon. Wayne. New Brunswick. Princeton. Florida. Montreal. I could find them all if I wanted to, if I thought it was a good idea. But it probably isn't. There are a lot of nights where I am meant to be alone, where if I wasn't alone bad things would happen. Tonight is not one of those nights. Tonight I was not meant to be alone. So I'll sit here, have a warm meal for the first time in days and then write a story. A story that you'll be able to read a rough draft of later tonight if you so choose. Then I'll take a shower, get dressed as if I had somewhere to go, and head south. Somehow I would feel better tonight losing my mind in the Birchwoods instead of here.

I started Project Montaigne in earnest today. Been on blogspot for a few days, started on Xanga today. Typepad and Live Journal will follow later in the week. Right now there's not much on either of the others, but here are the links anyway.

www.xanga.com/futurerem
http://futurerem.blogspot.com

I don't know guys. I just don't know. Where did it all go?

Defiance: Entering The Abyss : Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"Defiance: Entering The Abyss"
By Palomba (KING)

Defiance: Entering The Abyss | 1:02 PM

Stand with me, and I will bleed for you.

You know what, I'm not having this conversation with you. Not happening. I'm so sick of this shit it's not even funny, as if I was only mildly sick of this shit it would some how be funny. Am I funny? Ever? Unintentionally? Intentionally? Exponentially?

I was once the witty irreverant bastard child of Will Self and Virginia Woolf but now I'm more like the feckless offspring of Refrigerator Perry and a sexually repressed Grizzly bear.

I was really pissed off at someone on Monday night, but by the next day I had completely forgotten that I was ever angry. Last night I remembered, but by then I had forgotten why, and was suddenly unsure if I had even been angry at the right person. Tuesday night I lost my mind. Spent the night curled up fetal on my bedroom floor trying not to slip away. I wasn't angry that night, I wasn't sad. I can't say what I was except to say that I was nearly rock bottom. Been there, done that. No biggie.

Despite my desire to be around other people and do interesting, social things something tells me this weekend is going to be a complete wash-out. I have no set plans, and people tend to forget me in spontaneous recreational activities. Perhaps it's because I'm just not much fun. (Although I'm not nearly the downer this might lead you to believe I would be.)

I am constantly defiant, what I'm defying I'm never sure of. Sometimes I think it's the odds, logic, reality, God...othertimes I just think I'm defying myself and that's why every day is tougher than the next.

So I prepare to enter the abyss. My job becomes a solitary one, my friends disappear, the work bloggers who I've grown so fond of fade away. It means Monday is closer, but Monday no longer holds my salvation. With no light in the distance I retreat into myself in search of...something.

If I find out tonight...then so will you, keep reading.

D&M, WRSU, SCRU & C.W.P. : Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Thursday, July 08th 2004

"Aaarggh"
By Palomba (KING)

Aaarggh | 7:24 PM

Damn. This is one of those "Shit I'm Old And Have Nothing To Look Forward To The Rest Of My Life But A Long And Meaningless Existence Filled Only By Work And The Occassional Badly Conceived Road Trip But For Some Reason I Still Have Hope" entries.

You know it's over when you try to call home and instead dial your own office number because it's the only number you can think of after working a 17 hour day.

God damn I miss WRSU. Remember when it used to give me somewhere to go and people to be around at night?

Filling in for any semblance of sanity, I'm Chris Palomba and now back to Rigby, King and Kong on the other side of the glass...



Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"The Numbers Game"
By Palomba (KING)

The Numbers Game | 10:58 AM

Within the next week I'll have posted my two hundredth post here and my hit counter will slowly creep past 3,000. Now I know neither one of those numbers is massive, but they still boggle the mind.

3,000 times someone (or someones: I'm still not sure there are more than one of you out there) that are not me have stumbled upon this little piece of nothing and, if nothing else, read at least the title of something I wrote. Strange. I try to put myself out here, and while sometimes I fail miserably other times I come close to suceeding. Strange though, two hundred entries spread over about eight months. I never thought any of this would go that far, but somewhere along the line this began to mean something to me. I remember at the beginning of this all I found out that most of the other blogs I was reading turned out to be from whiney 16 year old girls and I almost gave up on it. I went two weeks without a single post before I ended up travelling down south and the gears started turning again. I was thinking and since no one would tolerate me thinking out loud, I began to think out here. Worked out well for at least one of us didn't it?

I've seen people's blogs that pull down a few hundred hits a day and I've seen people that post nary once a month. They're great in their own ways, far better than this most often, but this one here means something to me. It's my way out. My place to say something.

The simple truth is that when you have no one to talk to, anything is better than talking to yourself.

I used to say that the only two places I was a smartass in were church and the radio station...because both places involved me talking and pretending someone was listening. I just realized there was a third place.

The Dreamers: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"The Dreamers"
- Palomba (KING)
Last night I think I dreamt someone else's dream. It had to be. I've never had a dream that beautiful. Didn't seem natural to me.

There was a party, but it wasn't a regular party, it was in a giant gymnasium. I know what you're thinking, where's the beautiful part come in? Let me explain.

So we're in this giant gymnasium, a bunch of people I don't know and I. Something is wrong, but I don't know what. I feel in the dream like I feel in life, generally miserable but unflappingly optimisitic. Odd.

So I had wandered off towards the side of the gym, bored and alone when the wall disappeared and the floor simply dropped off into infinite space. So I sat down there staring off into the infinite and wondering what was going on behind me when I heard this noise. I turned to look, but it was only the party. When I turned back to the infinite space there was a woman there, a girl really, wearing a black dress. My age if not a few years younger, but she wasn't a normal girl. She was an angel. I knew this in the way you know things in dreams, you're not told, or even shown necessarily, you just know by instinct.

Now look, we've talked about my dreams before, about my lack of fantasy but my flare for the fantastic. This girl, this angel, touched me on the face. Her fingers were soft and warm. She leaned in tight against me and whispered in my ear, "Don't cry." But I wasn't crying and I wasn't planning on it, so I told her, "I wasn't." And she just held my head in both her hands and grinned down at me and I remember thinking that I felt awfully awake, and if it wasn't for the fact that I knew this to be a dream I might be deceived into thinking it was reality. Except that in reality I often feel dead, and in this dream I was alive and warm and comforted...and it was all because of this angel, this fantastic angel. And so the angel held me and I didn't cry, although at that point I couldn't have imagined a reason for ever crying. And last night, in that angels arms, the dream me fell asleep feeling warm and happy. Sometime later the real me awoke...still feeling warm and happy.

I had someone once tell me that they loved my fantasies. I didn't understand, until they explained they were talking about a character in one of my stories. They were talking about these little fantasy type bits I dropped into the story, the character's fantasy. I don't think they understood the whole story was a fantasy itself, my fantasy. I don't think I understood that till just now. You may have read that story: ( A Story: 5-25-04 )

People grow, mature, revert, become, live, blossom, die, wither. People one day are not the same people they were the day before, nor are they the same minute to minute. Where am I? Who are you?

Palomba's Warming Up

Alright, alright. So I'm not really here yet so to speak. But I'm close and coming quick. While you wait check out the original www.upsaid.com/futurerem

The thing is I was slowly going mad, but now it's moving kind of quick so I don't even know if I'll get back to this before I snap...so you might want to check the old one out before I go completely batty. Really, I'm a tormented guy, but sometimes it's kind of funny...or so they tell me. Anyway, this is just Palomba saying hello and reminding you that I'm still here. (Or I will be here...you know what I mean)

Funny The Places You Find Me

Funny how I just tend to show up in places...anyone out there?

I know, you're wondering, who is this guy? Where did he come from? Why is he here and why is he talking directly to me? Well...I'm probably not. Or am I? You don't know. I might just be...might just be talking directly to you.

This is the first step. The first step towards the beginning of something. This is the first step of the much beleagured Project Montaigne.

I'm still here: www.upsaid.com/futurerem and I don't plan on leaving there anytime soon, so click the link to take a look, but for the time being I'm here as well. I know what you're thinking, dammit Palomba...

So here goes nothing...here goes everything...here goes that monster who haunts your dreams. Like always, just when you think he's gone, Palomba is back.