PHP 03/15/2007

PHP 03/15/2007

Currentmood: crushed

My case manager says I'm convicting myself of being flawed. It seems to be based on circumstantial evidence, but I bet if Sam Waterston was the ADA, he would seal my fate.

In group therapy, a discussion about aggression and assertiveness led to a discussion about emotional needs. You are trying to obtain your needs, and these are the polar opposite ways of obtaining them. One of those needs is a sense of purpose. How to work towards the future.

You may not have a grand purpose. That's good because after my broken wrist, I don't think I could be supported from a crucifix. But every moment has something that you should set your mind on accomplishing.

Maybe I'm suffering from delusions of grander. Probably not. This dilemma would have a simple conclusion if that was the case. It seems so much easier just to call myself crazy.

Then I would at least have a purpose. Surely there is a market for village idiots. I could have a monopoly on Central Illinois in that field if I can remove Willy York from the scene.

Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.

PHP 03/08/2007

Current mood: pessimistic

Kinda in a pissy mood. Can't really think of anything overly worthwhile to report from day two of Partial Hospitalization.

OK. A lot of worthwhile stuff happened, or not.

Hitting the same brick wall of being worthless. The solution...accept that?

No, don't accept that I'm a worthless husk of a man, accept that I'm a good person.

We have an issue with verb tense. Am should be (oh god, now I'm reminded of the bad nature of could, would, and should) was. There is nothing left of me.

Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.

PHP 03/21/2007

Current mood: chipper

In PHP, they had us write journal entries about pictures.

As peaceful images lead to heartache, Disney World was discovered to be unimportant in child development, I took a Kincade/Rockwell esque painting as a chance to stick it to the man.

Serenity sometimes seems stereotyped.

Bright sunshine, the home, the lack of businesses to interfere with the shiny happy people. These people with their 1.5 kids and flee-ridden pet(s). Throw a steeple into the scene, and dare we say that we have obtained perfection.

This is serenity. No trouble thus no emotions to screw things up.

Read the rest of this blog and other stories at Main Event of the Dead.com and determine if this thought process can be translated into a B-movie comedy about pro-wrestling zombies.

PHP 03/07/2007

My first day in partial hospitalization
Current mood: blank

If you know me well, you probably know I've been having a tough time the last couple of months. Now I'm undertaking a partial hospitalization program to deal with my depression.

What to report thus far:

I have been placed on a substance abuse program (my friends who get drunk
text messages rejoice). Drink three nights a week, and you are deemed an addict
I guess.
How can any Asian person have a name with an "L" in it? The program's
psychiatrist is a doctor Lee. Cool guy. He's curious about my wrestling (wait
till he sees Tigger Mask). He is an Asian immigrant.

It's a fair assumption, my little brother dated one of the Linn Buffet daughters. I wouldn't suspect a second generation Asian American to speak like he did.

When it comes to Asian languages (prior to my two years of Chinese), I don't know any language that actually has the letter "L".

In all of the Chinese films I've seen, I never heard Jet Li ever be cast as Jet Li. In almost every film with Jackie Chan, he's usually cast as Jackie. Just think of Kim Jong Ill in Team America: World Police, if you don't follow me.

So is it just an English thing? As long as it starts their name, they can say "Lee" instead of "Ree". Not to sound insensitive to the good doctor, but in the case is this, good move. Imagine his getting picked on as Ree Ree (obscure down syndrome joke).

As for progress in the program, I can't say I know right now. It's inciteful, but would have probably been a lot more fun if Dr. Ree gave me a prescription to Xanax. At least then we would have a reason to put me in the substance abuse class.

My Pseudo Dead Haikus

Up one night thinking.
Awake remembering pain.
Thoughts of the insane.

Haiku : the efficient, eloquent way of being pretentious. The concept of efficiency, perfected by the Japanese. 17 syllables, no need to rhyme.

It's no wonder they can do everything better in the manufacturing fields than Americans. This gives them more time to count their money and beef up their math skills.

haiku is to efficient as soliloquies is to boring.

At least, that's a perception I have. Come on. How many of you could get into any Shakespearean works beyond Romeo and Juliet? You know that play with that "lovely love me" shite.

So I wanted to get the troubling thoughts about the junky who led me to financial ruin, and I wanted to be as efficient as possible to catch up on sleep.

These haikus had the opposite effect. You know that Jedi shit.

Anger leads to hate, hate leads suffering. Yoda like a motherfucker.

I also got stuck on a dilemma I've been battling for a while. How does haiku translate from Japanese to English?

Here's an egrish sample base on my haiku from the beginning.

Okite ichi yoru kangarue. 10 syllables.
Up one night thinking. 5 syllables.

Yes, I own a Japanese to English dictionary. No, I'm not going to translate the entire poem. This blog is about efficiency, and that would take up a too much time.

I guess it may not be about the sounds. It may be about the kanji, the oriental characters. We do seem to mock their love for pretty pictures on a frequent basis.

The point of this long winded rant (again, I'm inefficient) is that it led me to write haikus that really sum up the constant gloom I radiate through out Central Illinois.

Chicago and the Quad Cities should be glad I'm taking time off from wrestling. It makes it tougher to keep this grumpy bear routine up everywhere. God/Science bless the Internet.
So here we go, what you've been waiting for: MY PSUEDODEAD HAIKUS!!!

I am a zombie,
But I feel my memories.
Damn this fucking pulse.

I am walking dead.
Empty, but I still flashback.
And no taste for brains.

Shotgun to my brain.
This pseudo corpse curses Cobain.
Stuck here with my pain.

I have loved and lost.
Gone through all my wants of life.
Left only with needs.

Hungry for something.
Left to wander endlessly.
Not to think, just feed.

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