and i quit my job.

it felt fucking great.

ate crazy delicious vegan food at gobo, saw the third star wars(so bad) and hung out with people i love - went camping, went to a ban meeting, rode my bike to oradell, fixed the tire, made out with mcat and courtney, was an asshole(called the next day to apologize) sat around two fabulous fires, was awake all night long and then chased the sunrise with tequila. kept my fire burning with red wine. and laughter. such laughter. burning wet wood and eating pancakes in sleeping bags. so fabulous.

street walking, cruising, being honest about what i enjoy and what my addictions are. Food! Wine! and now, bicycles.

it gets harder. listening. and being honest. and being slow. acting slow. and knowing the people that are not good for me to hang out with.

gah.

i dont know. its fucking hard figuring shit out not repeating old patterns. your social circumstances determine your consciousness, not the other way around. marx said something to that effect.

ai
d

i dont know what time it is. the tv echoes in the background, my brother leaves the tv on and wanders searching for something he doesnt understand, letting his emotions lash out and manifest in parties, anger, distraction, transfer. the other brother doesnt act like he lives here, using his bedroom for sex and thats about it, he slangs and bangs with the best wannabe thugs of mahwah and thinks he is invincible, just like me when i was 17, how scary. my mother cruises the streets of nyc, haunting her memories and those of her father because she cant let go and has to feel everything out, constantly doing things for the family even as we hurt her, test her, push her boundaries and buttons. my father, like my mother kind of lives and dies for work and tv. it so odd to watch them sit down and zone out, responding absentmindedly to comments, questions, and queries. it is sad. but this is only one side of them.

i cant show my father in his glory riding the lawnmower at the farm or my mother in her splendor hosting parties round the holidays. i cant show my brothers and i laughing. or playing stupid and tormenting each other for hours in good humor. the negative side of them, my family, always shines through. it seems so much more active. but i cant remember everything.

hard.

i like illiteration. alot. and that 70s show is making me smile.

ai

d

cut from myspace profile -

Woah. New Jersey? Home of the wannbe urban suburban gansters and angsty teen mall rats. the sea of brake lights head lights and traffic lights reflecting on the neon surface of strip fall facades behind which angry kids in black and green rummage through dumpsters for treasure you call garbage, leaving the scene on modified 70's street bikes addicted to speed, but addicted to the sweetness of wet grass on our feet we rock bicylces not suvs and live in dreams.

throwing shows in garages and drinking coffee by the gallon we get up eschew the shower, roll in the dirt dream fight fuck and flirt cause the only way out of this suburban dervish of death is by seeking out the boundary lines crossing them actively passionately and by learning the ropes of an undefined new world.

my biggest problem is that i think im better than everyone else but that has recently blown up in my face, so now? ha, i dont know but im trying to walk work through it and now by ignoring but addressing and engaging it, turning to the folk i hurt and isolated myself from for criticism and dissection, with every vicious emailed word i read i have to sit down focus combat distractions and think. to think that i thought this would be easy, it aint.

ai
d

its not complicated. and even if it is. its beautiful. its life; wonderful life! it wouldnt be so otherwise. complication only means there are more layers to peel and enjoy, more chances to explore and things to talk about once you get over the awkward silence. and yeah, there will be awkward silences, sometimes necessary. just cause. and yup im totally nuts, and sometimes totally unable to talk about anything cause im to fucking afraid and i dont think enough before i speak. such a simple thing? like chewing carrots instead of making my fingers bleed. there is no hurt. nothing serious, just some scrapes, but whats life without the bitter? im sure it aint as sweet. enough with the cliches already! god i want some potatoes. you, tomorrow, we make minutes for hugs and talking. or ill bake pies with out you.

i found some soy garden in my fridge today. i almost ate it. and then i remembered and smiled. and then i drank chocolate soymilk and smiled too. cause there aint no thang like baking pies on a sunday with a loverly friend who you wouldnt mind baking pies with again.

hugs ya? its almost 330am. fab, eh? id like to do this internship in north carolina, would be fab. tomorrow will be spent trying to finish applications for internships and then mailing them out, i dont know if i work or not, we will have to see. maybe ill even get the chance to hug bunches of people.

right now im debating with myself watching the sunrise or not, probably not. but maybe someday soon. god this is going to be a nuts summer.

a summer of nuts!


ai
d

It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie
    houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse
    sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.

Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great
to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.

I don't want so much misery.
I don't want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.

That's why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the
    night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist
    houses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

There are sulphur-colored birds, and hideous intestines
hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,
there are mirrors
that ought to have wept from shame and terror,
there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical
    cords.
   
I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,
my rage, forgetting everything,
I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic
    shops,
and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:
underwear, towels and shirts from which slow
dirty tears are falling.

pablo neruda - 'walking around'

what does it mean to not feel guilt?

have i learned my lesson? lessons? anything?

does posting or writing things publicly solve anything? my head is running crazy like. its so nice outside.


ai
d

so i bought a new banadana today, a few of them in fact. a red one, a yellow one, a brown and white one, and a real nice bright but strong blue one. i just wiped my hands with the blue, wiping off the remains of last nights rice and sambar which i just gleefully ate with my hands.

im angry. we should start there. im angry that they are tearing down more woods on rt 202. im angry that i didnt make alot tonight at work. im angry that we didnt get to bake pies tonight. im angry about my inability to resist food. and im angry at myself cause i dont know. im really challenged to figure out why i am hanging out with people. and this is specific, but im a bit hesitant to fully disclose cause she at some point will read this, she has a name. ha oh man. im not stating the name, cause this is for her and not y'all.

its like why do you let yourself do these things? why do you let a strong friendship get tainted by 'stuff'? huh? ha, cause the hormones, the sex drive, the passion that makes the heart beat faster rules all. it dominates. i dont mind that. and then i want to hold hands, i want to be that guy, the guy and her to be that girl, the girl. i want to be part of a couple. but with who? is she a convienient replacement for people far away? can i really rate people like that? can i really say that? no. i cant cause people are so different and if let myself trick myself like that then id just be a fucking dumbass. and this all is ridiculous. cause im unstable. she too isnt stable, and not in the lock and key straight jacket way, but niether of us seem to be able to hold onto relationships for long. and we are friends and friends dont date, right? especially friends who make out, that's be ridiculous. just, we couldnt date, cause it would ruin many things. dating is so fucking finite. i want friendship and its infinite aspects. fuck dating's make or brake duality. why cant we hold hands as friends? we can. its all there.

i dont know. i know i feel wierd when she talks about the boy she met last night, but i ask questions anyway, because im her friend. and she will listen to me talk about leora, or this new girl i met named jen, and im happy for her to debrief with me about her coffee with sean and im thrilled warmed smiling going away glowing from our long hugs in parking lots but tonight i walked away bitter. i was upset there was no kissing. i wanted kissing, even just a quick meeting of lips would of satisfied me. i dont know where we are as people and i can just keep rolling as friends but im definately confused and i dont what it means when im uncomfortable hearing about a new boy. i dont want there to be something that we cant talk about, so im going to roll with my uncomfort and see how it feels, maybe ill just have, i dont know.

but now that i want kissing? what does that mean? right? it means that things arent as they were. things are different, kissing changes things. but not radically. this is satisfying. i dont know what could be. i might probably be fucking rambling about this stuff cause im not over done with india and what it was. and everything it raised. i didnt work for two days and by the middle of today i was going fucking crazy about jenai and being home and there bieng no red dirt, no coconut trees, no bananas, no indians, no rice. Money. such an issue. such a fucking issue.

like i want to die and leave. im sad. im really fucking sad. im going to drink water and sleep.

writing is good. ha. i want to melt into her hugs and be the rock she cuddles up against. but im not abandoning a friendship for some junk rubbing.

water and bed and dreams, sometimes i think this is all thats left.

so pathetic.



oh and who ever the fuck left that anonymous comment, you can fuck off or show your face.

i just ate a good meal of rice and demetrius style sambar(basically a bean and veggie thick sauce) ate it with my hands and really enjoyed it. talking to joe c. and not working for the past few days has certainly got my mind rolling along with dreams about india im fucking lost in a mire of what was and what is here.

chocolate. i like chocolate. i like being crazy and i hate being alone. i like people and being with people, though more than one or two tends to freak me out unless im drunk. sheesh. thats odd right? maybe

maybe it just means that i like small groups instead of large ones, maybe it just means i like certain folk who arent psychotic. maybe i just need to calm down.

dig deep and breathe. let the sodt warmth of familiarity wash over you, feel the comfort of warmth and the wish of wanting the addiction of touch and movement moving up and down my toes pushing at angles on pedals as my calf muscles tense and flex in motion with my quadriceps enjoying the challenge of these hills, once daunting, now stunning invigorating i rush up them with energy smiles and confidence that i can crest them and relax as i coast into valleys.

it kind of feels like my bike riding is reflective of everything else. but that doesnt make anysense, ive successfully commuted twice to work now, and once to ridgewood casually. ive got a new route that i think is shorter. i guess i could possibly get this commuting to work thing down to a tight half an hour but ive got my doubts about that. im going to see what tomorrow brings.

rar

i am feeling odd.

d

i got a fucking job and its fucking ridiculous. italian food and cheap owners. co-workers range from a whiny recently divorced italian immigrant to a overly flaming yet down to earth homosexual and uber horny venezualan who makes some horrible jokes. thats only half of the wait staff, i havent got to the freudian guitar player or the mousy jewish girl.

its fine though, everyone is wonderfully nice and receptive. i made a hundred bucks tonight and 200 over the weekend. this should help me save the ghana cash right quick. and give me solid waiting experience for a different type of place.

me mum was talking of nyc apartments today, i like the idea nyc can be a fab place but it means that i leave jersey if i go upstate i leave jersey too and i dont know if im ready for that. how wierd right?

that i dont want to leave some of what is here.

really wierd actually. you know what else is wierd? people leaving anonymous comments. dont be so scared people, i gave up my teeth.

running around and working, biking, I GOT MY BIKE BACK!!, geez, its so good to be riding again, and campmor gave me two free bikes, both totally working and both are wonderful, ones a dual suspension mountain bike and the other is a road bike. reeediculous.

so now the other members of my family who have lost thier liscenses can get around, but whether they will is another question. i rode from and to the wood the other night and today.

it could of been just a thing a passing moment that will never come again, things at first felt the same but now odd, probably cause i was dead tired after 12 hours of work. we are going to bake a pie on thurs friday for her friend. and yeah of course i feel wierd, and awkward cause she is an amazing friend and conversationalist who has grown into one of my best friends and that is where/what i want her to remain as. and this is going to be when the real test of why i am her friend manifests.

ok its late and id like tomorrow to be productive.

demetrius

today has been some fucking crazy bulllshit in which im frustrated and lazy but getting work done and wondering about all sorts of crazy jazz.

jazz like isolation. acceptance. approval and smiles and what it all means and how im progressing in my head.

coffee after 5 is bad for me cause i dont sleep till 230am. not good.

[00:10] frizze528: tell me a story, por favor

[00:11] kussmischnell: any particular subject>

[00:11] kussmischnell: ?

[00:16] frizze528: nope.

[00:16] kussmischnell: hm. so there once was this boy who didnt like to wear shoes. he would walk around barefoot all the time and people would stare.

[00:17] kussmischnell: the boy would be uncomfortable at the stares and questions but find comfort in the attention and the seperation between him and the observers.

[00:18] frizze528: mmmm

[00:18] kussmischnell: one day while walking on campus the boy realized that this seperation ran deeper than he knew, it was not just seperation but isolation he was achieving

[00:18] kussmischnell: the boy panicked

[00:19] kussmischnell: he ran, barefoot, to his car and grabbed the pair of shoes he always kept around just in case and put the on his feet.

[00:19] frizze528: oh my

[00:21] kussmischnell: stepping out of the car and back into the world that everyone shared he felt comfortable once again and welcomed. the boy realized that by walking with out shoes his individualism had isolated him from others making him sad, angry, and lonely. the boy knew he didnt want any of those things so he acquiesced to wearing shoes and almost once felt as if a huge wieght had been lifted from his soldiers

[00:22] frizze528: this is very intense...

[00:22] kussmischnell: this new found feeling of comfort and ability to identify with everyone has seeped into most aspects of this boys life. his smiles are longer and his words more true. he feels, for the first time in years, that he can identify with almost anyone and be open to them.

[00:24] kussmischnell: the boy laughs and realizes how little things like wearing shoes can be so reflective of bigger things like isolation.