The Lowdown with Chuck Chuckles

Today my head felt like it wanted to explode.  I don't mean in the 'oh man this really hurts' kinda way (besides for me that feels more like my head is going to implode) but in the way that my brain feels like it wants to detatch itself from me and fly out into the sky.  I don't know why it does that.

I was driving the other day when a safety yellow convertible car (rare in Wellington due to the hit and miss weather) drove past.  The driver was a middle aged man, balding from the front with the long hair at the back to make up for it and in the passenger seat was what I could only hope was his child.  Neither of them looked like they were having fun.  It was wrong.  I thought the whole idea of having a convertible was because they are fun.  Perhaps they have had the car for a while and the novelty wore off.  Maybe the father was pissed off that it was his child next to him and not some sexy young thing in a bikini.  It could have been the child was annoyed because the car doesn't talk like Jimmy's dad's car does.  Or was it their faces trying to battle the mighty oncoming wind.  

Lost in the bitterness,
there are times when it is so easy to just throw it all away.

Where do we all end up?

Where does it all go?

Full of regret,

It's all a crock.

The bitterness is lost,
there are times when it is so hard to get it all back.

Where we go isn't as important as where our minds are.

It's all thinking too hard.  My head hurts, words squirt.  Out of my mouth.  They drip down my collar.  Forming a pool of paragraphs.  My thoughts drowning.  The heart circled by the protruding fin of the mind.  BUt really, I'm ok.  Finding words from yesterday. 

Remember to read the things you write down.

Rush flavour, evil fantasy.  Mystery club special.  Invite your friends to the dawn of sorrow.  The deadly silence screams 'what's new?...'

Eclipse kisses.  Information membership rages fear.  Inches ruin the radio.

I want to show you how I feel before making you omlettes.

Okay, we hate to ask, but... over the roll or under the roll?  

I refuse to use toilet paper because of this alone.  It has split my family.  My brother has gone to war because of this.  My sister ran off with a toilet paper salesman, living in Bumfuck, Nowheresville.

I can't leave the house these days due to the whole coke bottle debacle.  Do you hold it with the label facing out or covering the label?  I don't know anymore.  I have lost myself in questions to answers that are right and wrong for all the left and right reasons.  I am falling into the quagmire of red (once black but which is cooler, red or black? Am I going faster?) .  Sunken glory in a pipedream, sense lost in the smoke.  I ate it all but should I digest carbs or not?  Too much vitamin C causes cancer, too little vitamin C causes cancer.  The C stands for cancer.  You are cancer.  I am scorpio.  Let's dance. 

How are you ringing in the New Year tonight?

I already rung it.  It sounded like a cross between U2's Beautiful Day and Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls.

It makes me wonder, there is music for all occasions, marriage, death, but not at birth...?

The other day I was on the bus (wow another entry about a bus, I must be like bus crazy or something, I would go with something) and decided to watch the people in cars from my window seat.  The people driving by were bored. So bored. It was almost depressing, in a refreshing way. 

For some reason this guy with his 'hands free' headset sticks in my mind.  It was one of those clip-on the ear deals, with the star trek microphone to the face.  He was traveling with someone else in his car, yet still had the appendage attached.  This is hardcore, folks. 

Imagine being in the car.  Being the passenger, as the driver talks to no one.  The first call you would most likely be confused.  Is he speaking to me?  My name isn't Scotty...  How do I 'beam' you up?  I ain't doing that, if that is what you mean...

// What's the most drastic change you've ever made to your appearance?

Smiling.

I find it curious that once I place my headphones over my ears and push the play button that the music narrows my vision until it is focused within.  The real world is shut out as my thought flutters from snippet to snippet of consciousness.  In between lies the what ifs and hows, sometimes the wheres or whens.

It must be from some stem of repetition of emotion that this habit bloomed.  I am surprised when hindsight shows that some of my habits can be traced back to one instance where an event had such a strong emotional impact on me that I change my mindset when in similar situations to avoid it happening again.  A case in point would be the bus.  To be more specific, getting off the bus. 

A rational person would perhaps move at a normal pace to exit the bus with no stress or great concern.  I rush at the door like a mo fo.  If you are in my way, I will bowl you over.  This behaviour can be attributed to this one time on a bus I was on.  It was a wet day so the bus was packed with bodies.  Sitting, standing, in constant motion, there was no space, all clutter.  The driver could not see the back door of the bus well.  I was to exit from the back door.  I was at the very back of the bus.  The mass between me and the door was impressive but I shouldered on.  The door in sight, I lunged only to be greeted with a shoosh.  The bus driver had no way of telling when everyone was off the bus that wanted to get off, so he chose an arbitrary time and closed the door once it was up.  I cleared my throat and exclaimed 'excuse me' a few times until finally the door opened and I got off. 

I am not sure why this had such an impact on me.  I may have felt slightly embarrassed for being rejected from leaving the bus or afraid people think of me as slow.  'Ugh, there is that guy again who just can't figure out where the door is, what a chump.'