Fan’s Complaint

Forgive me Internet for I have sinned. It has been 627 days since my last entry.

Where to begin… After my last entry, I spent a few months in Vancouver selling hot-dogs. I came back to New York, stayed for a month, then moved to Chicago. I became a real person there, with a job, an apartment, money, and yes, an electric tin opener. I also fell in love.

***

Chicago h. didn’t really feel a need to write stupid little paragraphs on the Internet for all to see. He didn’t have the time. After all, he had a job, an apartment, money, and yes, an electric tin opener. But then, after a year or so, he couldn’t take it anymore. The job was shit, the apartment was slanty, the money went towards the gas bill, and it turned out that a manual tin opener is much better than the electric kind. So Chicago h. quit his job, moved back to New York, and found himself right back where he started–living at home with his father, as though the whole Chicago episode never happened.  Except he’s now 27 (still smoking, even though he had always promised that he’d quit at 25) and quite a bit heavier.

***

It’s not quite that simple. A lot happened there. I had some very good hot dogs. I got to go to California again. I met someone who… made things better. It’s as though all of the angst and other volatile emotions that I used to fuel my “writing” just disappeared. I may even have been happy.

Maybe it’s love, or maybe I’m mellowing with age, but this space doesn’t seem to have any real purpose at this point. I don’t even really know why I’m writing this entry. Maybe in the future there will be actual writing here. Maybe the angst will come back. I have a pretty good track record of fucking things up, after all. I can’t possibly be happy for long, right?

Bad Route Rd
NO SERVICES

Home on the Range
NO SERVICES

???

***

Somewhere in North Dakota, a tumbleweed crossed my path.

iPod sentience: entering the painted canyon area of North Dakota, my iPod decides to play “The Trio” from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. It was to be the only time during today’s drive that felt the way my last trip did, everything coming together just right to bring a smile to my face. The rest of the drive was tiresome and lonely.

Maybe I am getting too old for this.

A few weeks ago, I was asked whether Fan’s Complaint is dead. My answer was, “Pretty much.”

I realize I’ve taken long breaks before, but this time it felt different. I’d been doing a lot of writing, and it actually felt like I was getting somewhere.

These past few days though, the writing has been more of a struggle than it had ever been. Sure, there have been times in the past when I went nearly a year without really writing, but that was when I wasn’t trying at all. Never in my writing “career” have I experienced so much frustration after such an intense and sustained effort.

I am supposed to leave New York indefinitely in, oh, let’s see, about 28 hours. I’d told myself that come hell or high water I’d finish this damned story before I had to hit the road. I’ve gotten three pages done this week. When the story started, I was having fun writing it. It was work, but it felt rewarding. Now, it just feels as though I’m artlessly putting the characters through their paces, very visibly pulling their strings, and I don’t think it does them any justice whatsoever.

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Last night, I watched Mel Gibson’s the Passion of the Christ. I must say that I had no idea what so ever that a film could be so moving. My eyes have been opened. I was living in sin. A life of wickedness. All of the drinking and smoking and self-abuse was not helping me at all. I was just digging myself deeper and deeper into damnation.

As of today, I renounce my former ways. I will no longer drink, smoke, or abuse my own body. I am forever giving up all of my vices. Even pornography.

I have accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior. From now on, I am dedicating my life to the gospel and to missionary work.

I would like to start the latter by hosting the great work of art that completely changed my life. Click here to experience that which has opened my eyes. I hope that by this act I can spread the faith, and maybe change your wicked lives for the better as my life has been changed.

Thanks to these guys helping me realize my wicked ways.

I dreamt last night about a girl I met once at a bar. She was really cool. Witty. An English major like myself. We talked about the meanings we assign to everything–the snow, the smoke, the day of the year.

I woke up and the dream faded from my mind. All day I felt like something was missing. It wasn’t until I sat down to continue a story that I realized I had had one of those happy dreams. The ones where I’m happily involved in a deep and meaningful way with a girl without any messy real life problems.

The happy dreams are all the same, the girl is idealized to such an extent that her real-life counterpart could not possibly compare. The problem this time, with this dream, was that the girl did not have a real-life counterpart at all. She is a character I made up for the purposes of this story.

Maybe it’s time to give the h. character a happy ending. We’ve been through so much together: love, loss, debauchery, even a fake death. If it were in his power to give me a happy ending, I’m sure he would do it.

Or not. Everything he has gone through has been at my whim. None of the bad things that have happened to him over the years would have happened under the watch of a more merciful… scribe, weaver of fate, god, what have you. What happens to him is a reflection of what has happened to me. If I truly do not believe that someone is tugging at my strings, why do I tug on the strings of my fictional counterpart instead of allowing him control?

Maybe he is the one exerting his control on me, forcing me to act like him. After all, I didn’t use to drink until I thought it could bring my character some tension and conflict. When I didn’t smoke, my character had nothing to do with his hands. When I was a boy and read in the library instead of playing sports, was my character trying to pick up pointers from his fictional brothers? Was he there all along, ensuring that I would stay on a path that would guarantee his painful, but continuing existence?

Now I’ve gone over my own head. If I were stoned I would be freaking out right now.

Here’s some German vocabulary that I haven’t forgotten:

Taschenrechner - Taschen (bag), rechner (counter) - Calculator

Staubsauger - Staub (dust), sauger (sucker) - Vacuum cleaner

Armbanduhr - Armband (arm band), uhr (clock) - Wristwatch

Kühlraum - Kühl (cool), raum (room) - Refrigerator

Lebensraum - Leben (life/living), raum (room) - Poland/Czechoslovakia/Russia

***

enjoy!

All Percentages

incompetent (0%) intolerant (25%) inflexible (0%) timid (0%) cowardly (0%) violent (50%) aloof (0%) glum (25%) stupid (0%) simple (0%) insecure (25%) irresponsible (25%) vulgar (0%) lethargic (50%) withdrawn (25%) hostile (0%) selfish (25%) unhappy (50%) unhelpful (0%) cynical (50%) needy (0%) unimaginative (0%) inane (0%) brash (25%) cruel (0%) ignorant (0%) irrational (0%) distant (0%) childish (50%) boastful (0%) blasé (0%) imperceptive (0%) chaotic (0%) impatient (0%) weak (0%) embarrassed (0%) loud (25%) vacuous (0%) panicky (0%) unethical (25%) insensitive (25%) self-satisfied (25%) passive (0%) smug (0%) rash (0%) dispassionate (0%) overdramatic (25%) dull (0%) predictable (0%) callous (0%) inattentive (0%) unreliable (0%) cold (0%) foolish (0%) humourless (0%)

All Percentages

able (25%) accepting (25%) adaptable (0%) bold (0%) brave (0%) calm (0%) caring (0%) cheerful (0%) clever (25%) complex (50%) confident (0%) dependable (0%) dignified (0%) energetic (0%) extroverted (0%) friendly (0%) giving (0%) happy (0%) helpful (0%) idealistic (50%) independent (0%) ingenious (25%) intelligent (25%) introverted (0%) kind (0%) knowledgable (25%) logical (0%) loving (0%) mature (0%) modest (25%) nervous (0%) observant (25%) organised (0%) patient (0%) powerful (25%) proud (0%) quiet (0%) reflective (25%) relaxed (0%) religious (0%) responsive (0%) searching (25%) self-assertive (25%) self-conscious (25%) sensible (0%) sentimental (25%) shy (0%) silly (0%) spontaneous (0%) sympathetic (0%) tense (25%) trustworthy (25%) warm (0%) wise (0%) witty (50%)

Back in college, some crazy irresponsible assholes (with whom I had no involvement whatsoever, and if someone tells you otherwise, they’re probably a filthy communist spy spreading disinformation about upstanding citizens such as myself) used to distribute these little things all over campus every year around this time.

I got one that said, “Please stop stalking me, freak” in my sophomore year. And since then, I have not stalked anybody.

The year after that, I got one that says “ha ha, nobody loves you.” And since then, I have been a habitual drunkard.

Happy Trifon Zarezan (Wine-grower’s Day)!