I know that this hasn't been updated lately (in fact, I think the last time was in September), and I'm more than sure that pretty much everyone who read this regularly has moved on to better things in the digital world. But I decided to post one last entry on this blog, regardless of how many people read it.

You see, it was my full intention to only keep this blog updated regularly (or not so regularly) during my high school years. I originally started this blog to post stupid little rants about stupid little things that have no acutal importance in the scheme of things.  But I gradually moved on to post about things more and more personal in my life. I have dropped some pretty heavy shit on this here little internet journal, and have caught an equal amount of shit for some of the things I've posted here. I've let pretty much anyone in the entire world peer right into some of the deepest parts of my persona, and have met some pretty interesting friends, and enemies, along the way. Hell, I was threatened to be sued, and this website was blocked in the entire school district because they didn't want me spoiling peoples' minds. But that isn't really the point of this entry.

I did the majority of my growing up right here on this webpage. That probably sounds really stupid, becuase what kind of kid grows up on the internet? Well I did. And I had lots and lots of advice coming from people that I haven't met in real life, and from people that I spent every day with. And most of the time I replied with a big ol' "fuck you" to pretty much all of it. Thats how I was. The little angsty, stubborn, love-torn kid who wouldn't take no for an answer. That was four years ago.

In those four years that have passed, I've made friends, lost friends, fell in and out of love more times than I can count, made music, traveled the country, became an Eagle Scout, laid out tracks for my future, and finally came to accept myself as a person. And as anyone who has read any of the posts on here can tell you, I wasn't always too accepting to who I was.

But now in two days I am graduating. I'm ready to move on with my life in more ways than one. I've come to realize certain things that took a long time to get through my head, but I got there nontheless. I'm ready to venture out into the real world and keep on learning, keep on living, and keep on loving.

I realized that I can't spend my life waiting anymore. For example: Abbey, who has popped up numerous times in my blog, was the person that for a long long time I could only ever imagine myself being with forever. Well, we both grew up, we both changed; we aren't in the 8th grade anymore. She has a new boyfriend that for a long, long time I hated with a burning passion. After all, that was MY Abbey he was with. But they get along great, probably better than Abbey and I ever have. I hated that fact for a long time. I became the person no one would want around, because I brought people down. But the other day I realized this: I can't be sore about this anymore. Above anything, she is one of my best friends. We shared our lives for practically ever, or as long as forever can seem when you are a teenager. We had some AMAZING times together, and some not so amazing ones. But I couldn't let this bother me anymore. I love her to death, and always will. And if she has found someone who can make her happy, then thats all I can ask for, becuase I couldn't be that for her anymore. As long as she is happy, I'm happy for her. And thats all I can really ask for.

My band Remotely Insane broke up. Kyle and I are currently working on some tunes together, and they are sounding great, by far the best thing we've ever done. We are going to hopefully go somewhere with our music, but if we don't I have my backup plan firmly in place:

I start at the U of M in August. I'll be majoring in Creative Writing, and if my music doesn't work out, I'll write books and screenplays. I have many stories floating around my head already that I think could turn out very nicely.

And finally, I am totally comfortable with who I am and what I am becoming. I feel more in touch with myself than I ever have been before, and I feel enlightened. It feels good. I mean, I overcame high school, heart break, and everything else life has handed me so far, so how much harder can it get? I graduate in two days. Then I start my summer, then college begins. It's a book ending with another one starting at the same time. Kind of like this blog.

So yes, this is the final entry on the infamous MoonDoggy blog. It started with highschool, and it ends with high school. Perhaps I'll start another in college, I don't know. But all I can say is thanks for riding this rollercoaster with me. It's been a blast, and I love you all so much, even if I've never met you before. I guess all I can do is leave you with some things I learned: Don't take people's shit, stand for who you are, and love with all you can. Or you can sum it up as I like to say:

I'm still the first one to say 'fuck you', but I'm even faster to say 'I love you'.

Thank you, blogland. It's been fun.

Love, James

Oh boy.

Basically, I have come to a conclusion for this school  year: If there is one thing that I'm not gonna let happen, it's people pushing me. There is a nasty little problem in Anaconda that involves older people in the community (i.e., policemen, teachers, some business owners...) that feel that they can do and say whatever they want to teenagers in the community because they are older then them. And it's not things like, "James, could you carry these boxes down to the computer lab?". It's things like, "Mr. Burkhart, you'd better remove those things from your blog or I'm going to have to take legal action."  

Now, this has happened to me before. That is why in some previous entries there will all of a sudden be lyrics from some gay R&B song in bright pink font. That is why in some entries things will not flow correctly, not make sense with the sentences that surround. I mean, I'm sick and fucking tired of being bossed around by some people in the community. I mean, I've threatened to be sued by the things that I've written on this blog. To be sued by merely writing the truth, writing my opinion, and writing about things I witness in my own life. Since when is that a basis for which to sue someone on? I can tell you that if I was 32 years old and had written the exact same thing that I had written, then I wouldn't be threatened with legal action. I would probably get a smack on the shoulder and some laughs. Not a fucking threat to have me arrested. And the really sad thing is that if the person had went through with it, I'm sure I would have been arrested. I mean, it's now like I'm some sort of enemy of the school district. This blog is blocked in everyway possible from being accessed on school computers. I'm watched like an inmate when I'm in the highschool computer lab because they are scared that I will do something that will buttfuck the network to the point of needing all new hardware.

Before I go any further, let me say this: I have the utmost respect for the keepers of the law. I'm not by any means a trouble maker or disrespectful in anyway towards police officers. But I'm not going to say that everything that some officers in Anaconda do is correct: in fact, a lot of the actions they take are wrong.

Now, I haven't been through police training. I don't carry a badge or a gun or wear a black uniform and drive a cool car with flashing lights. But I have enough knowledge and wisdom to know that a police officer shouldn't use intimidation or threat of force to get a negative reaction out of a minor so that they can actually have a reason to put them in cuffs. More than once I have been confronted by police officers in local parks, during the park hours, and have been intimidated into trying to say something wrong when I was just hanging out in the park with my friends. Things like, "What you kids doing? Whatever it is, it doesn't look very good.", or "This is the last time I'm going to let you tell me the truth. If you don't tell me the truth, I'm going to have you arrested and you WILL serve time. If your lying to me, you'd better tell me now."

I mean, seriously. What the fuck? I was brought up to beleive that police officers are friends, keepers of the peace, people who you are supposed to trust and that will look out for you. A few of the cops in Anconda completely fit that bill to a tee, but the rest, the majority of them, are completely seedy and dirty, browbeating teens and other people into submission. In my opinion, that isn't a person you should trust or that will care for you.

So basically, I'm tired of being stepped on and forced into removing my opinion. I'm sick of being the subject of threats because of what I personally believe. So from now on, I'm not taking it anymore. If you read this blog and like what you read, then by all means keep reading, share it with people if you wish. If you read this blog and find something that offends you (you don't like what I write about, you don't share my opinion, something offends you, you don't like the language that I use, etc...), then stop reading and go find something else on the fucking internet to read. I'm not going to change anything anymore, unless I personally think of a better way to say it, or if it was misunderstood. So to everyone that has threatened me with legal action, people who intimidate me, people who treat me like shit because I'm underage: You can shove it up your collective asses. This won't change when I turn 18 either. You can still fuck off.

in other news, school starts Tuesday. Senior year baby. See the last entry for some feelings on that. It's my last first day of highschool. I'll probably update then, I'm not sure.

Things are most definately looking up for me as of late. The person I care about the most is back and herself, I'm helping her and she's helping me. Things will all be great again soon, I'm pretty sure of it. More on that later.

Anyways, hope I didn't offend anyone with my little rant. But seriously if I did: Who fucking cares? You have your opinions and I have mine. Respect that please.

But just remember I love you all.

-James

Sorry I don't update anymore. I mean, I know that I say I'm going to and I never do. It's just one of my many flaws of character.

Anyway, school starts again in a week or so. I don't want to go back. I stated in my previous entry why. But there are other reasons. I mean, I don't want my highschool years to be over this quickly. It seems like only a couple of weeks ago that me and my friends were getting yelled at for sitting in freshman hall and being potential fire hazards. I don't want this year to fly by blazingly fast, which I know it will. I want someone special to share this year with, which not counting my friends, I don't have. I don't want to go to school and be surrounded by people that make me uncomforable and say things behind my back.

It's not that I'm scared of going out into the real world, because I'm not. I have the skills and smarts needed to make it in the real world. I'm sure I'll be fine. I'm not going to be living with my parents until I'm 45 and living off of inheritence. I'm going to go to college and start a new life, taking with me the best parts of my old one and starting again fresh. This strange thing though, is that some of the best parts of my life are also some of the lowest points.

My plan for college life (I.E., new life) will be to go to all of my classes and pass them. I want to get a job and meet new people, while holding contact with my oldest and dearest friends. I want to write my books, play in my band, have fun and experience new things. I want to prove the naysayers wrong, and prove the supporters right. I want to be successful in my writings and my music, and tell everyone who ever held me down to shut the fuck up and die.

But yeah. 7 months after my birthday I'll receive my diploma and prepare for new life. Hopefully by then I will have these huge holes in my path and my heart filled up and I'll be able to start a new life, no doubt one that will have it's own fair share of holes. But maybe in this "new life", I'll be able to help other people fill in their own holes, and perhaps then I'll be better at filling in mine.

Who knows? Maybe I'll completely fail and everyone who ever told me I couldn't make it would be right. I'd adopt some strange hobo nick-name, like General Curly and I'll steal oranges from my brother's supermarket all day. And maybe when I get older, I'll sneak behind Abbey's funeral home and I'll dip my cigars in her embalming fluid (this is called a 'sherm') so I'll get nice and fucked up and forget about my hobo life for awhile. And people will drive by and say, "General Curly. His actual name is James Burkhart, he was a nice man, until he FAILED." *cue depressing music and dance number*

Will I fill in the holes in my heart, dug by my loved ones, before I graduate? I can only hope so. Will I prepare for my new life and attack it with the energy of a dingo on the hunt for Australian babies? Most definately. Will I ever become "General Curly"? I really hope not. Will I ever smoke sherms?

.....maybe once. :)

 

Love,

James Burkhart

 

 

Well folks, the school year is almost over. Three more days until I'm free for three months. Three more days until I'm a senior in highschool. Three more days until I probably kill myself doing something stupid during the summer. THREE more days.

I know that I should be looking forward to the summer before my senior year, my last summer as an actual highschool student. I'm not though, I'm in fact dreading it. I couldn't want anything less. I know that as soon as summer comes, I'll be hanging out with my pals, rocking out with my band (we have lots of shows lined up), and just all around having a good time. But whats the point of summer when you have a fucking rock on your chest?

I mean, I can't explain said rock. It doesn't have a nice little name tag that explains who it is, where it came from, it's title and position, or what the fuck it's doing on my chest. I just know it's there. It goes away every once in awhile, but it comes back. Everyday I tell myself, "Man James, today is your day. You can fucking accomplish anything, you know what the fuck is up, brother. Everything can go your way today, and you can change everything. IT'S A NEW DAY."

And everyday before I go to bed, I tell myself this: "So, today wasn't your day. Not that big of a deal, how many more days do we have before we die? A fucking ton. So no worries man, we'll get this all figured out, it's all gonna be fucking straight soon."

It's these little pep talks that I give myself that pretty much keep me going. I mean, I'm not gonna lie, girls are a problem for me. I mean, there is one that I love more than anything, more than anyone, more than life itself. Sure, I know I'm only 17, I know I don't know anything about anything. But fuck it man, I know what I'm talking about when I say that I could plan my entire day around this one person, around just a glimpse of this person, and it would be a goddamn good day. It would be a better day, though, if she were to be with me. "All in good time, sure you were here first, sure you'll be here again, but this is here now, and you just need to wait, you just need to give it time. You will have your time again, and it will be the time of your life." This is probably the biggest source of my awesome little pep talks.

My math teacher, whom I didn't particularly care for at the start of the year, gave me an opportunity to make up a bunch of tests that I got shit scores on so that I may pass the semester. She knows that I can do it, she knows I'm not stupid. And she knows that I just hate math and usually don't try, and that is why I have a shit grade in there for semester. I pulled it out of the hole for quarter, it's sitting at a mid-C. Not the best, but good for math. Too bad semester grades are the only ones that count, at in that department, I'm sitting at a cool 50%. Ten more points and I'm home free, no more fucking math classes for James EVER. Any less than that, and I have a semester to re-take next year. I hope to God that I get atleast ten points, and if I don't, maybe my teacher will have the kind enough heart to just pass me anyways because I gave it a good go, and I honestly tried to dig myself out of the hole that I created and fell into.

Graduation was yesterday. It wasn't particularly moving or anything, but it was nice. I couldn't help but thinking that this time next year, I'll be walking up to get my diploma. I'll be ready to move onto the world, I'll be leaving my childhood behind. I'll be fucking done with highschool, fucking done with all the bullshit little drama, all the math classes, all the dumbasses. But I'll also be done with some friends, my loved ones, my family, I'll be moving out on my own. I'll be The James Burkhart, not Tom and Kerry's little boy, but Tom and Kerry's SON. Sure, I'm thier son now, but I'm not "son" with a capital "S". Not the son carving out his own trail in the world, not the son who is achieving everything on his own. I sometimes get so jealous of my brother who is living out in the world, being successful at his job, taking classes he wants to take, hanging out with people he wants to hang out with, living with his girlfriend who is actually really cool (not in a hit-on sort of way, she's almost like a sister to me), and who pretty much defines himself. I'll be there soon, which is exciting, scary, intimidating, and enticing all at the same time. I pretty much can't wait to start my own life, but at the same time, it's probably the last thing I want right now.

Pretty fucked up, eh?

Anyways, I'll be posting again soon, I promise. Until then, I'll leave you with a quote by Captain Jack Sparrow, from the first Pirates movie (by far the best one.)

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate."

<3

-James 

...very handsome awkward.

Sorry about the lack of updates lately folks. I know that I said that I would be updating all the time now, since I got back into the blogdrive game. I lied. But here is an update, and this time I honestly mean it when I say that I'll try to update more often.

I'm still at war with myself over the whole girl thing. I mean...it's fucked. I want to wait forever because it means that much to me, but then again part of me wants to get on with everything and just be someone else. I don't know. I'll probably wait forever anyways; it's definately worth it. All I know is that the worst part about being at war with yourself is that you think you know what you're going to do, but in all reality, you couldn't be more wrong.

So I was sitting in my car at lunch the other day with my pal Brandon Sullivan. We are listening to a CD, and I reach down to change the song, when all of a sudden, I hear a bunch of glass breaking, and I get hit in the face with a ton of glass. I turn around and look over my shoulder, and I notice that there is a fucking huge hole in my driver's side rear window. I look at Brandon, who has his mouth wide open, and I say something along the lines of "Why the fuck is there a hole in my window?" I then look across the street and see a girl with her mouth open, looking completely guilty. She tries to pin it on her friends, but they all say, "No you did it you ignorant fuck bubble."

Then I got out of the car.

Then I said something like this...

"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU THROW A FUCKING ROCK THROUGH MY FUCKING WINDOW? IS THIS FUNNY TO YOU? HAVE YOU NO RESPECT FOR THINGS THAT AREN'T YOURS? ARE YOU RETARDED? YOU ARE A GODDAMNED IGNORANT CUNT AND I HOPE YOU CHOKE AND DIE! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING ANYWAYS? I'm calling the fucking cops..."

I want to make it clear that I have never talked to this person before. I've never made eye contact with her, I didn't even know her name. She tries to tell me it was an accident, that she and her friend were throwing rocks over the fence behind my car ever-so-lightly to see how far they would travel. It was a complete accident. When she tells me this, these questions pop into my mind...

1. Why were you throwing rocks over the fence?

2. How old are you? Your in highschool? And you don't know far you can throw a rock?

3. Was it just a coincidence that the first rock you threw happend to be chucked at my fucking window hard enough to shatter it?

So I pretty much called the cops. The bitch has to pay for it. I hope she doesn't so that I get to sue her and take away her pets (assuming she has any) so that I can dismember them slowly with the broken peices of glass from my window. Then I would throw the sick bloody animal bits into her house window with a note that says: "What a nice thing to do, breaking a window. Please, consider me again the next time you decide to break a window YOU FUCKING IGNORANT GIT."

And then my car died.

You see, I was driving down an alley through a puddle, when suddenly my car starts making a really sickly noise. It's the type of noise you'd expect a gun-shot victim to make when a nice piece of lead lands straight into his sack, except lowered three octaves and repeated loudly. I couldn't turn the wheel and I couldn't hear anyone talking over the noise.

I find out that something in my engine blew up and blew little pieces back into my motar, which in turn fucked up my power steering and alternator belts, so my car was running on nothing but my battery. It would cost about $500 to fix. Throw all my oil leaks and shitty engine parts and what not into that, and to make my car completely and safely drivable again would be over $2000. My car is blue booked at about $150. Needless to say, we didn't repair it, and now I'm looking for a new car.

I'm looking for an SUV type of thing, like a Blazer or a Jimmy or something. It would be nice if it got over twenty miles to the gallon. But thats asking alot. So if you know of someone with something like that, you should let me know. Oh, and if you know of anyone who buys cars for parts or something, tell 'em about my awesome '91 Ford Tempo. It has new tires! But make sure it's not some crack head buying my car,  because it has some type of sentimental value. It was my grandmother's, and she gave it to me when she died. So I don't really want it to be some queer ass drug fucker buying it to make pipes or grind it up and smoke it or something.

Peace out, blogland.

James

Well kiddies, I'm back from Seattle. Actually I was back from Seattle a couple of days ago.....oh well, you get the idea.

My time on the coast was interesting, thats for sure. I had lots of time to reflect on all kinds of things that have been bothering me lately, some mentioned in the last entry, some not. The point is that my life has taken a considerable change lately. I mean, I figured some shit out, and it's all good.

As I was standing on the top of the Space Needle, looking out on the bay and the glowing city lights, I just thought about how I would kill for a certain someone to be there with me, to share this sight with me. I thought about her alot, and lots of other people too. I now realize that maybe if you can't get someone out of your head, maybe they are supposed to be there.

I got all kinds of cool shit from Seattle, and more importantly, I learned some awesome shit. Not only about myself, but about the structures of the city and in the museums and what-not. Plus, I went on a badass rollercoaster. So it's all good.

I got a tabulation sheet in math yesterday, and I have officially brought my grade significantly out of the shitter. It was a 47.3% but now it's a 77.8%! Thats a shit load better, and I'm that much closer to a new guitar. Booya.

I also got into Senior Honor's English for next year, so I get a college credit for it. I'm thinking that will help me alot with my creative writing requirements. And one more very important thing: I'm so much closer to being with who I want. I won't let in on details, but one person is out of the picture, and I'm just moving back in. Hooray for the goodguys.

Anyways, this has been a jumbled, cluttered mess of an entry, and that I am sorry for. I just have so much good news lately that I felt the need to put it out there. State Music Festival is Friday for me in Missoula, so to all of my Missoulians....perhaps I'll see you there.

Love you bye.

James

So nothing much else has gone on since my last post. Well, actually I lied. I've almost completely figured out the girl situation, and it's going alot better for me. No more holes in the wall, no more stupid shit. It's actually working out really well and it can only get better, so I have that to look forward to. At least it's something.

But why I was trying to figure out the girl thing, I've only become more lost in myself. I mean, I thought I knew what I was, who I was, my "purpose" if you will. But I've only confused myself more.

For example: I thought that I had completely figured out my life after highschool. I'm gonna go to college for creative writing, fiddle around with that until something either happens with my band or my writing. But recently...I don't know. I mean, I need to pick something that I'm good at and enjoy doing, which music and writing both fall under, but should I try something completely new? I don't necessairly want to be this strange, predictably 2-D figure just littering the human landscape with my simplicity. I want to DO something. Which makes me lean more towards music...I'm not sure. Writing can do just as much if not more than music if it falls into the right hands. It's a strange subject.

Another thing is that I thought I had ME, James Ransom Burkhart, figured out from head to toe. I knew me, I have to put up with myself everyday, afterall. But...it's just strange. It's hard to put into words without sounding gay. It's just that right when I thought that I was done with searching through myself and memorizing my inner map, I just completely got all fucked up and lost, like someone took my map and burned it while lauging and throwing me into the woods at night (which I could survive anyways since I'm an amazing Boy Scout). It's like that all of a sudden I find all sorts of myself that I didn't know before. Nothing bad, it's not like I'm a crazy serial killer or anything now. It's just that everything that has happened in the past couple weeks has thrown it all for a loop. Not that it's bad, it's just confusing as all hell.

And, to top it all off, I had to say goodbye to a good friend last night. My pal Charles Walters, as some of you may know, dropped out of high school because of the bullshit. He didn't fuck around, however, and went and recieved his GED and is leaving to go work on a ranch all spring and summer to earn money for the college that he starts in August. He is 16, and is already far more ahead than me or anyone else in my class. It just sucks to see him go already. It makes me dread the coming year more and more, the coming year being my senior year. I am not looking forward to clinging onto school just for the sake of seeing people that I like for a little while longer before we all go our seperate ways.

Oh and another thing. I hate how corporate America shoves shit down my throat. If I wanted to learn more about something, I would go out and do it myself. I don't need to be plastered with fucking advertisements for products that cost thousands of dollars to own, yet cost next to nothing to make. I don't want to pay for something I think I "need" just so rich men can get richer and the makers of the product slowly starve to death on the factory floor. Did you know that over half of the 6 BILLION people in the world live on under two dollars a day? That is fucking insane.

Pretty much I've just been doing alot of thinking lately. I know that I need to get away, which will thankfully happen soon when I leave for the band trip to Seattle on Friday morning. I need a different scene, somewhere away from all the gayness of everyday life. Maybe I should fake my own death and just start over again somewhere new with a different hair color and contacts instead of glasses and a fake ID so no one would ever know the difference and I could just fuck around doing whatever I want whenever I want without caring about what the hell happens. Because if I fuck up with that, I can just come back to my old life saying that I was kidnapped and lost for years and years, and it would hopefully all be better. I don't know, maybe I'm weird. I also bought a fish tank the other day and got some cool fishies for it. It's really cool and awesome in a strange sort of way to be in complete control of something so alive. I am their messiah, I am their god. I feed them, house them, I could kill them all if I wanted. It's strange and cool and fun and maybe a little bit scary at the same time. But I love them all the same.

Oh, and speaking of dying my hair, I have an appointment for a hair cut and color tomorrow after school. I'm thinking either dark brown or black with red highlights. Tell me what you think and I'll post pictures on my myspace if your lucky.

Anyways, leave me pretty pretty comments. I love you all, and I'll see you when I'm back from the coast.

Love James.

So here is an update.

I had a little get together at my house last night because I wanted some friends over. My parents weren't home, but thats OK because we weren't doing anything stupid. I pretty much just threw the thing to hang out with my pals, but the real reason I did it was so I had an excuse to call Abbey and have her hang out with me, even if her dork-ass boyfriend was with her.

So all is well and we are all having fun, until I come in from inside and look in the bathroom, where the door was wide open. Inside is Abbey kissing her boyfriend. My original response is just, "Whatever, she isn't mine anymore, this doesn't matter..."

But it DOES matter. To me anyways.

So I pretty much get pissed because when I looked in there, all of the memories of us poured out of me. I've been with this girl in one way or another for a third of my life. She has not only been the object of my obesession, but she has been my best friend. We know each other better than most people know their spouses....we know every fiber of each other's being, inside and out, every corner of the brain, every beat of the heart. And when I looked in there and I saw this, all of this went through my brain:

"This is so fucked up...I can't believe I'm watching this, I can't believe I'm seeing this. I kissed her there, we loved there, we are best friends still, but this fucking cunt can move in on what is mine? Wait a minute, she isn't mine anymore...I know I fucked up, I know that I've hurt her before, and I know that sometimes I wasn't there for her when she needed me, and I know that we got mad at each other sometimes for the stupidest things, but it just made us closer....we used to go to the movies every weekend and eat dinner at each other's houses and just lay outside and look at the stars and talk about how much we meant to each other......its sappy but we would talk about being together forever and getting married and honeymooning in Ireland and getting a house and raising a family and growing old together and being there for each other and eventually dying in each other's arms....and now this FUCKING CUNT is taking my place....she doesn't love him, does she? She's only known him for like a month....this kid is a fucking doorknob, he knows nothing, he probably thinks he is in love...they've only been dating for about two weeks and we have been together for almost six years and it took us a good three of those  years to realize that we are in love with each other....and I know that I fucked that up and that she probably isn't in love with me anymore...but she still loves me because she told me...and I don't know what the fuck to do is she just doing this to piss me off? Does she even like him? He isn't her type this isn't the Abbey I know she would never have anything to do with a fuck like this kid....I shouldn't have invited her over, because I knew he would be coming...I should kill him, fucking take an axe right to his brain and watch him wither around on the ground as he bleeds to death from a direct hit to his temple...his mother fucking temple bleeding all over my fucking bathroom floor with me beating his face in over and over again until there is nothing left but skull fragments embedded into the bathroom tile. Then we could ride off into the sunset and live out our lives together forever and ever and just love each other just like we used to, like we promised each other we would..I don't break fucking promises....I'm about to explode....."

All of those thoughts, plus more, went through my head in about a second and a half. Then I slugged the wall. HARD. I know thats stupid but I did, and I left this huge fucking hole in the wall, with my hand in the middle of it.

So now I've got a broken heart and a broken wall to go with it. Good job, James. Ten points.

Anywho, I know that alot of people I know don't particularly care for Abbey....but I really do think that I'm in love with her. And even if I'm not, I still love her alot, I know that much. And who is to say that I'm not in love with her? It's a very real feeling that I'm capable of expressing, who can say that it's not what I'm feeling now? Everyone I know only remembers the bad stuff about me and her, like the fights and whatnot, because that is all that would catch their ears or eyes. But it wasn't like that all the time, we were practically joined at the hip for so long it felt natural to just hug her and kiss her and put my arm around her and just have her be there. And now she isn't she is mooching around with my fucking dork ass neighbor who probably pops a woodie whenever he gets breathed on by a girl, my neighbor who doesn't even know her like I do, NO ONE knows her like I do. Deep in my heart I really do hope that this is all just some elaborate plan that she has to make me notice my mistakes and fix them and before you know it we'll be back to being peas and carrots (Forrest Gump is hawt) and just being our perfect selves again. I hate being stupid James doing stupid things whenever I'm without my girlfriend, my best friend, my perfect friend. Stupid James contemplating shooting himself or hanging himself or huffing Dust-Off or punching holes in the wall or having nightmares that make no sense. I hate being that James. I was perfectly happy with being the James that Abbey is in love with, the one that dissappeared for awhile there and with his absense comes someone trying to take his place. I was probably honestly happiest when I was that James, because I could be my perfect, witty, outgoing, awesome self and I could also share everything with my red-headed angel and we could finish each other's sentences and just be completely content just silently looking into each other's eyes for hours on end with out saying anything. I was perfectly happy then.

But now I'm this fucking fucked up horrible James that is doing things he doesn't want to do, that is saying things he doesn't mean to say, that is driving himself insane because he doesn't know what to do anymore. I told myself it wasn't a big deal, and for awhile I believed it. But I swear to whatever higher being is enough of an asshole to think that this is funny that I WILL NOT LET HER BE THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY. We both know that deep down we know we are meant for each other, and I know that she knows that too. I know this, I've heard it, I've seen it, I can feel it whenever she is around. We both know. This is just soo fucked up.

And I know that this entry will rub people the wrong way, and I know that some people will probably think that I'm nothing but some completely fucked up asshole who is stalking his ex and making things up to have himself feel better. And you can think that all you want, all I want this entry to do is to let some certain people know how I feel, and I know that I've told this story a thousand times but I still always feel like there is more to say each time. And I'm sorry that some people will be disgusted and pissed at this entry but all I know/hope is that the one person that I hope reads this can maybe now begin to realize how much she means to me, without thinking that I'm creepy or a stalker or a killer or some other horrible thing that I'm not, not even when I'm the monster James. Thats all I can hope for, and if it doesn't work, then I'll probably delete this. I dont know.

Anyways, about the wall. I put a poster over it and plan on telling my masha in a couple of days when my dad isn't around so he won't get pissed and hit me. My hand is fine, because you can't hurt steel, we all know that.

Love, James.

Hello my dear friends in blogland.

So I talked to the girl, things are all good. We aren't together, but we are friends. We decided that when she's ready to try with us again, that maybe we will. I mean, I don't know if by then I'll be ready, or if I'll have found someone else, or whatever. But it's nice to know that she can still be one of my best friends, if not the best friend. So yeah.

In other news, I was reading myspace bulletins earlier tonight, and one was posted that said this exactly:

So, I've decided that with my first paycheck, Im gonna get some new ink done. Now, the only problem is I dont know what, or where Im gonna get it. That also means I'll be back in anaconda for a day or two, cause I'll only let one person draw on me. So, theres something to look forward too. Gimme suggestions as to what I should get

Now, I know this person. This person is a complete and total fuck head. I mean, he used to live with my brother, and completely sucked to live with. I mean, I would go over there, and he would complain when Amanda (my brother's girlfriend-wifey thing) cooked for him. Now, Amanda is a damn good cook, and he has the balls to complain when she cooks for him? What a cocknugget.

Anyways, this person has some nasty habits. I mean, he never would pay rent when he lived with my brother (I think he still owes them like a couple hundred bucks), he can't hold a stable job, and he never goes to college classes. He stays at his apartment and does nothing but play World of Warcraft all day and night. What a fuck. But anywho, I am going to take the privilage to rail the shit out of his bulletin because he is retarded.

First off, LEARN HOW TO COMMAND THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE YOU GODDAMNED IDIOT. People who don't know how to write or speak intelligently severely piss me off. It's not that hard to understand. Now, I know that there is three different uses and spellings for the word(s) to, two, and too. But for crying out loud, use the right one when it needs to be used. And learn how to use correct punctuation. Fuck.

Next, who the fuck would ask people what kind of tattoo they should get? What the hell would he do if I said "Ok, I want you to get a picture of me jerking off while looking at gay horse porn on a pink Apple computer. I want this picture of me to be surrounded with a combination of tulips and strap-ons, both of them forming a cute little frame to surround my image of self-pleasure?" Knowing this kid, he probably would go and get exactly what I said. Now, call me stupid or whatever, but I always thought that a tattoo was a personal thing, something that should represent a certain time in your life, or something that told a story, NOT something that some random person told you to get. Tattoos aren't supposed to be like, "Well, I kind of like chinese food, so I think I'm gonna get an awesome tat of sweet and sour pork right above my stomach...". But hey, what do I know? Let him alter his body with his stupidness, and then we will see how long he'll keep his job when he has a picture of me jerking off on his back.

And lastly, shouldn't he have something better to spend his tattoo on? Like say.....THE FUCKING RENT? Or maybe paying people back? Both of those sound like far better investments than a fucking tattoo that he has put no thought into whatsoever. Fuck he is stupid.

And now for one last subject for this entry: girls that conform to what bullshit magazines tell them. These magazines show glamourous pictures of pencil-thin teen models with huge tits, which pretty much is sending the image that girls aren't beautiful unless they are skinny as a fucking stick and have huge titties. Yet, these are the same magazines that have eleven-page long stories about how eating disorders are horrible and that you don't need to throw up your food. Talk about sending mixed messages.

I guess I need to say this to all the girls that read this: You are fucking beautiful and amazing just the way you are. If you don't like something about yourself, then go ahead and change it. But don't for one single second believe that you need to destroy yourself and all you stand for just so you can be considered "beautiful" by the mass-media, because chances are, they aren't paying much attention to you. So don't think that you need to be super skinny or have blonde hair or anything like that to be considered pretty, because you are fucking beautiful just the way you are. There is nothing sexier than a girl with confidence, and if you strutt what you got in an appealing way that suits you and what you are, then you will definately be sexy to someone. And to the people that tell you differently: tell them to fuck off, straight up. You don't need people like that in your life. Don't believe me? I don't care, just see how far those people will get you. And, lets face it, have I ever steered you wrong? Thats what I thought.

And as far as boobies go.....all boobies are awesome, so if you see me, show me them. I'll like 'em, I swear to God.

Peace out, blogland.

-James

So 'ello once again, bloggers.

MY life has pretty much been confusing as hell as of late. I mean, I get dumped. Which blows completely, but I thought I got over it. Well I didn't, no surprise there, since anyone who has read this at all pretty much knows that I'm infatuated with this little lady, dispite all of the shit she/life throws at me. So anyways, she dumped me, and went to prom with my neighbor. Good for my neighbor, he needs to get out of the house. I mean, he wears his t-shirts tucked in with no belt. He is a good kid, don't get me wrong, he just needs to live a little. So he took her to prom. Good for them.

But now, this little lady seems to think that because she went to prom with him, that it is some short of obligation for her to date him. Which isn't true, but I guess she thinks this because she went to all but one of her formals with me while we were dating, and the one she didn't go to with me she was dating me at the time anyway. So yeah, now she is 'involved' with him. And a while after prom (awhile being about three days) I tell her that I still lover her alot (love is a gay word) and am willing to do pretty much anything to just be with her again. She gets all googly eyed and what not, then says that she is 'involved' with my neighbor (from now on we shall call him "Tinky"), and that she needs time to think about this whole thing. I think this is complete bullshit, but whatever, I let her do what she needs to do, since I'm awesome like that. But then she just keeps telling me that she still loves me too, and we kiss and hug and hang out and do all sorts of 'couple' things that her and "Tinky" do not do. So I'm sitting here thinking "Fuck yeah, I'm gonna get her back again, we are gonna be together again, we are gonna be happy again...". So I keep on spending all sorts of time with her and all of this while she is still 'involved' with "Tinky".

Then out of nowhere she lies about hanging out with me and goes and watches movies with "Tinky". Which is kind of a blow to the face, considering that we had just spent an amazing 'couple' day together and I pretty much thought I was cemented in. Then the next day she tells me that her and "Tinky" are considered dating. Considered by who, I have no idea. If it's "Tinky" who considered this, I would have simply told him to go home, stop tucking in his fucking shirts, and beat off some more. But alas, she is considered "Tinky's" girlfriend. She tells me we are going to be together soon, and that we would be happy again and all of that, but she just owes this to "Tinky". Whatever, I think. This won't last long.

So she just spends all kinds of time with "Tinky", all the while still kissing me and hugging me and doing other things with me, because "Tinky" just doesn't do those things. OK, so tell "Tinky" to fuck off, thats what I would do. But NOOOOOO she really likes "Tinky" alot. I start to feel used and hurt.

Then, I pretty much just kind of need to know what the hell is going on, so I tell her that she needs to just pick either me or "Tinky" so that we can all just get on with our lives. I also tell her that I'm not gonna stop chasing her until we are together again, regardless of whether "Tinky" is there or not. I mean, I can't fucking share a girl with anyone, let alone a kid who tucks his t-shirt into his jeans with no belt. I still do not know where she stands on this.

Then she leaves to do some weird legislature thing in Helena for a week. I text her all the time, yet get the feeling that she is blowing me off. She gets home and doesn't call me or text me like she said she would, which is fine. But she is haning out with "Tinky". I tell her that we need to talk and tie up some loose ends, because I'm still confused about somethings. She pretends to not know what I'm talking about. Argh. So I tell her I'll call her later when she is alone. She then replies: "Anything you need to say, you can say while "Tinky" is here, he is my boyfriend and doesn't need to leave." I then kindly tell her to shut the hell up, since it's none of "Tinky's" business and he doesn't need to know everything that I need to say to her. All of her later texts reek strangely of bitchiness, and eventually she stopped texting me. This was about an hour ago.

So I'm gonna call her and figure everything out. I have a strange feeling that it will turn into a yelling-match, which I'm not looking forward to. But hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. And I'm one helluva man.

In other news, I got an F in math for this quarter. I thought my dad would stroke me across the face, since he thinks that math is the most important subject in the universe. But he didn't. My mom didn't even get mad. I mean, hell, she offered to go half with me on a new guitar if my semester grade turned up to a C. My only punishment is that I have to have my teacher write me a note home everyweek, and I need to bring my homework home everynight that we have it. That is a very nice punishment considering the intesensely long grounding that I was expecting. So I have nothing to complain about.

Well, I guess this is the end of this blog entry, my dear dear friends. I'll let you know sometime in the future about what happens on the phone tonight. Sweet dreams, you dear children.

Love, James.

 

I used the word "Tinky" (or some version of) 17 times in that entry.