About FUCKING TIME.
I was working for the past 2 hours on a JAVA assignment and now I just got this PIECE OF SHIT to work. I'm happy. Now I have... to do the second JAVA assignment.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKING FUCK-HEAD, SHIT FUCK FUCKING FUCK MOTHERFUCKER FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll just copy it tomorrow.

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Good Weekend
Pedro and I took Ignacio out to celebrate his birthday. First we headed out to see Kill Bill but no theater was showing it that late. So we just drove around for an hour till we found a Bennigans. Yeah, we felt out of place but we were hungry. We got the waiters to sing some sort of non-copyright infringing birthday song and Ignacio got a free dessert. Pedro also told us how he was still trying to get with a 19 year-old Northwestern student. He's been talking to her for a week and thinks very optimistically. I ,on the other hand, think realistically or "pessimistic" as they say. I don't think anything will happen but again I am an idiot. In the end, good times. Also I think things will go back to normal.

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I am angry. It's at the point where all events are heading towards that line. When It comes and I finally cross it, everything will change. I don't use the word everything lightly. I really mean everything will change. If I'm lucky, I'll never reach that line. But luck is never on my side. I just have to go the weekend without hearing it. If that is successful, I just need to pass the week. After that, I am in the clear. But I believe that it's too late. I'm heading towards that line at full force and there is only one outcome. Relax. I am not typing about murder or suicide. Just what's in my head.

Is it better to try and succeed or try and fail?
Is it better to try and fail or try and succeed?
Is it better to try and succeed or not try at all?
Is it better to try and fail or not try at all?
Is it better to try or not try?????

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Note: If you've haven't read part II or I, scroll down or else this will be hard to follow.

Part III--------The Epiphany
I woke up thinking of her. I thought about her smile. The thought of her imperfect eyes flashed in my mind. Yet, reality slowly set in and I realized I had left my unconscious. My thoughts changed from the happy to the sad; about me. I quickly checked to see if I urinated myself. I didn't, but the thought killed my happiness.

I was the only one awake in the house, including Pedro's parents. I got up and noticed I had two pains: one on my left forearm; the other on my left hip. Maybe I fell when I laid down last night. I got up and went to the bathroom to clean my face and saw myself in the mirror. My eyes were so bloodshot, I thought for a second if I fell on my face.

I walked into the kitchen and I helped myself to things in the fridge. So many unopened beer; I was in no mood for more. I took some Squirt and a bag of hot chips. I love these foods but now they burned my throat. I quickly poured the squirt into the sink and the soda fizzed like acid. I poured myself some water and needed some fresh air.

I sat on the steps in the cool morning. I slowly drank my water, breathing heavily, trying to keep from getting sick. It was cooler than I thought so I wanted my jacket. I thought I left it in the garage. Walking up those stairs in the garage felt like walking in to a crime scene of a cult's mass suicide. Empty cups were everywhere and chairs were thrown about. My wall was full and the room was in the shade away from the sun. I couldn't find my jacket and there was nothing else I wanted up here so I went to sit back on the stairs.

I heard a bird singing up in a tree but couldn't see it. I was too lazy to move, so I grabbed a rock and threw it in the general direction of the music. It flew away but at least I can say I was able to see it. I was then left alone in silence.

I went back inside and went back to sleep. Not as much sleep as resting my eyes. When everyone else woke up, I also got up. Ignacio left very early. He must have got less than an hour of sleep but he made a promise to his mother to not drink and to be home in time to go to church. Doing half of what you promise is good, but that is still 50%. Still failing. Bobby also needed to get to work so he, Nancy and Mark hopped into the car and drove off.

Pedro and I drove around for a while and we stopped at a McDonald's. We ordered food and just ate in the car. Pedro told me that last night they almost walked in on Bobby and Nancy having sex in the garage. Bobby had put the radio on full blast so no one would hear them, but "noises" were still heard.

Pedro said that he wouldn't drink for a while because it wasn't worth it. He only had a few shots and was basically the babysitter for everyone else. He was right. It was at this time that he told me something that sounds almost poetic. "When you're drunk, you try to get sober; When you're sober you try to get drunk." This was it. All alcoholics follow this vicious cycle of a mantra. In a sad way, everyone knows this mantra, yet most ignore it. That's Pedro for you. On the outside he is a tough guy, but he spends too much time thinking just like me. In the end, neither of us are happy.

Pedro drove me home. Down Pulaski to Archer then down Archer to 35th. I got dropped off in front of my house and walked inside. No one noticed. I wasn't hung over, a bad lesson for those who drink heavily. I spent the rest of the day in a car with my cousin searching for a her friend's car that she "borrowed and got towed away." No one seemed to smell the liquor on me.

That's it. The End

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Everything in which we believe is based on psychological towers. From family to people, personality and religion, we build a basic foundation of how the world works. I've spent a lot of time thinking and have learned fairly well how to correctly judge a book by it's cover. When we try to learn new things, we slowly build up these towers. Yet, I have had to stop construction of a tower on someone. I learned something about that person; something I don't really like. I stopped the pursuit of knowledge and a part of me regrets this. Another part knows that no one really cares and that no one will notice. Also if anyone is reading this, these are just ramblings. Nothing important.

Note: If you haven't read part I, I suggest you do so by scrolling down.

Part II-------The Evening, Or What I Remember
I quickly drank two lights. I wasn't trying to get drunk quickly; I just felt weird not doing anything with a beer in my hand. I took the empty cans and I placed them in the corner of the garage on a shelf. I had made it up in my mind that this was going to be my hall of fame.

While I was standing around, I looked outside the window. You see, Pedro's garage has two floors and on the second floor is a pool table and a window which looks into a yard. While I was looking outside, Pedro's parents walked through the gate and Pedro's younger sister pointed at us. Pedro went down to talk to them.

You have to understand, Pedro has what's called "cool parents." They come from a country where there is no drinking age. Pedro had been around alcohol all his life, but he respects it. He doesn't like to get drunk every weekend.

While Pedro went outside, Ignacio and I stayed in the garage. We started to play pool and Ignacio started to ask me questions. He told me how I should talk more and he wanted to know if there was anyone who I would want to talk to more. I told him that I might tell him when I was drunk, but he was right when he said he and I would have more respect more me if I told him sober. So I did. I won't write it though. It's irrelevant.

I had reached beer four when Bobby, Nancy and Mark came. Bobby had been working all day so the lights wouldn't do for him. He and Pedro went with Pedro's dad to buy harder liquor. I was going to go, but at the last minute I decided against it.

When they came back, I had six lights on the wall. They brought MGD beers and I twisted one open. They also bought a bottle of Jack Daniels and Nancy mixed me a large cup a Jack and Coke. I didn't really question drinking this. Which now looking back, surprises me. I don't drink coke; that's bad shit to get in your system.

I had drunk too much, too fast and the saliva was forming in my mouth. I slowly walked outside and threw up on the sidewalk next to the garage. I didn't feel bad after. No physical change in my stomach. Actually, I felt more bad because of vomiting on the sidewalk instead of the lawn. Bobby came out to talk to me; to see if I was okay.

Bobby got to talking. He is what is considered a thought-provoking drunk. All that he says to anyone is less a conversation as it is a physiological interpretation of his own mind. He started talking about his cousin who died about a year ago and the anniversary was coming up. His cousin was one year older and they were really close. He died of a coke overdose. Bobby never really got over it nor has he visited the gravesite. At the funeral was his only chance to say goodbye ( which is hard to bring yourself to do if your carrying the casket). This was a man whom I have known as an ass since I first met him; now it almost seemed as if he would start crying on me. Throughout the entire conversation , though, his tone never changed. I knew he was having trouble saying these things to me, but his outer appearance never changed. A small part of me envied that ability: to feel without any external emotion. He then started to talk about his girlfriend upstairs. He would always tell us when they had sex, but he told me she was a coke fiend. This caught me by surprise, which I couldn't show being drunk, so all I said was 'That's fucked up' and 'you shouldn't get into that.'

She came downstairs and was obviously drunk. She slid up against Bobby and started to kiss him. He told her that he was having a meaningful conversation and jokingly said that if she didn't leave him alone, he would beat the shit out of her. I decided to go inside the house with Pedro's parents.

Inside was Ignacio, Pedro and his parents. They were all laughing and having a good time. Pedro's mother asked if I was all right and if I would like some juice. You can't pick up the subtlety from this writing, but that was a joke at my expense. Then Pedro's dad took the Mrs. aside and told her in Spanish that he told her before that he didn't want me drinking here. Looking back, I don't know if it was a joke, but we all laughed.

I went back into the garage and Mark was laying on the pool table. He was just a little tired. I sat in a chair and looked at the wall. On the wall, I saw 3 more beers I didn't remember drinking. Panic.

I quickly thought about everything I drank. I had to find what was unaccounted for. Did I have a lapse in time already? While I thought, Nancy cleaned up some bottles and placed them, where else, on the wall. I was a little angered that she did this. My personal record of the evening was now gone. I would later tell her this, when I was much drunker.

I had all I could drink and I just sat in a chair. Fading in and out of my mind. I thought about what I told Ignacio. Should I work at it( Note: see above)? I should get out there and run frantically into the unknown. Never say no. Only live once.

While thoughts of her ran in my mind, Bobby gave me a Black and Mild. I was drunk so I didn't question it. I just took the cigar in my mouth and smoked. It didn't bother me as much as I think it should have, but I was gone. He later laughed at me for taking his cigar, which I replied 'if you didn't want me to smoke, why'd you'd give it to me?'

I was gone. The five hours flew by in a matter of forty minutes. I went into the house and knocked out on the floor in some room. Pedro had laid out some pillows or something and I slept on them. Everyone else knocked out in the living room on the couches and an air mattress.

Part III--------The Epiphany
(To Be Continued)

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GO CUBBIES!!!!

This is for you doubters, the Cubs are the best Fuckin' team IN THE WORLD!!
I'm just joking, the Cubs fucked up a 3-1 lead. Oh well, I expected it.

Come join us again, you Cub fans. Come back to Chicago with the White Sox, Bulls and Bears. You thought you were a big boy who could play with the Men, but you bit off more then you could chew.

Oh, and here are the answers to the following remarks:

At least we did better than the White Sox.
------And the White Sox did better than the Cubs in 2000. Where were you guys then.

There's always next year.
------You've said that for half a century, what's another half a century. If you have next year, so does the possibility of a meteor killing a SINGLE man in Sweden. I like those odds because I hate the Swedes.

I should shut up, I just needed the rebuttal to be said for you sore losers.

-----Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
-----The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
-----And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
-----But there is no joy in Wrigleyville-- mighty Cubbies have struck out.


BWAAAA HAAAA HAAA HA, BWAAAA HAAAA HAA HA

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On Saturday, October 7th, I went over to my friend's house. There I got wasted and while drunk, had an introspective discussion with myself. I am going to write the evening down in my blog, or at least what I can remember. At most, I will divide the story into 3 parts so I can get my thoughts collected. I hope that by writing this, I can become a better writer of my own experiences like the great Thompson. If you haven't read Thompson, I should warn you now that in his stories, he exaggerates events to show the absurdity of them. Sometimes he just made up events. So while reading my paper, see if you can guess what really happened and what is the product of my mind. An important note while reading this is that the names of people have been changed. If you know me, you know some fake names I use include Pedro and Ignacio, both will be in my story. Also, if anyone out there ever reads any of this( which I find highly unlikely), this is not a paper condoning the abuse of alcohol. In fact, she can be a cruel mistress. A bad demon to fuck. I don't think I'll be drinking for a while.

Part I--------Getting to a Goal
I got a call at about 8 P.M. My friend Pedro was having a bunch of kids over to get wasted. I left the house and headed down the alley leading towards the Chicago Orange Line stop. On the way to the stop, the world seemed so real. Maybe it's because of the shot of Tequila I took before leaving the house, but the sky was real, it didn't have that dirty look that you see when you look outside through a window. I was in the open.

I got on the train and fuck, it was surprisingly loaded at 8 on a Saturday night. On the train, I couldn't help but notice that people were staring at me. I don't know why. I still can't think of a reason. But I started taking notice of my reflection in the train window. Did I look threatening? They were all fuckin' assholes, that's why.

I got to my stop at waited twenty minutes for a fuckin' bus to come, till I remembered that the bus don't run this late. I had to go back home. I got back on the platform and waited for the train to take me back.

On the platform, I ate some candy and then gave the wrapper to nature. That's what I did to prepare, I heard it's bad to drink on an empty stomach, so I just ate all day. Before I left The house, I ate two cheeseburgers, some spaghetti, a slice of carrot cake and a ham sandwich. It seemed like the smart thing to do at the time.

The train going back to my house was surprisingly empty, just me and a senile, old man. He was watching me. I felt it. Always turning his head every five seconds to look at me; that is scary shit. He got off and I was alone. The train car was mine. So I did what anyone would do in this situation. First, I yelled 'Hello' really loud. I waited, then I got up and ran from one end to another. It was fun, everyone should do this once before they die. My stop came and with accordance to tradition, I got off and walked through the alley back to my house.

The sky was fake now and a drug deal was obviously going down in a car with two guys in the back seat. I didn't stare, but it freaked me out when they opened the door when I walked by. I just kept walking until I reached the safety of my house. I called Pedro and he offered to give me a ride. He picked me up and we drove all the way to his house. Ignacio was waiting with a case of light beer. We went to Pedro's garage and we popped open a few lights.

Part II--------The Evening, Or What I Remember.
(To be continued)


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KILL BILL.
Need I say more. 'Cause I will. Fuck yeah. This will be a good weekend.

The world will be in harmony. Unless, of course, both the Cubs and the Red Sox make it to the world series. Then Jesus will come down from the clouds, seperate the sinners and the saved, then catch a Cubs/Red Sox game.

I have good plans. But yet again, I am an idiot.

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I realized that I hadn't posted in a long time.
I was drunk... or coked out of my mind, I can't remember. All I do know is that I need a job. I was supposed to go job hunting but I woke up one morning realizing that I really like to sleep. Maybe I'll try again this Saturday. Any way, since no one will read this, I am really happy that the Bears won the game Sunday, and really disappointed with the Cubs one. O' Well.

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