Mission 3 of MacHeist II is live!

I've fallen in love with macheist. It's a great way to waste time and you get free shit. So far I've received like $230 worth of free software and thats not even counting my bundle discounts. I think I like it just cus it lets me live out my grandiose fantasies of being a spy. PLus the missions are just really fun.

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Love never wanted me, but i took it anyway, put your ear to the speaker, choose love or sympathy but never both

I make a lot of wishes.
I know, its bad, because im always let down.
but i guess that its just the idealist inside waging war against the realist outside.
last night I made a wish
I wished that I could make you happy.
now, being a wish expert, I can tell you that this is the worst kind of wish
the kind that seems so practical in print but so impossible in practice.
the kind that makes you wish you had never wished in the first place.
this is the kind that heartbreak is made of.
i think something went wrong when we ended things
because i still feel like theres a part of you stuck to me
when you hurt i hurt
and i dont like to hurt.
hell, being that selfish makes me hurt.
it cant go on like this anymore,
i cant feel you in pain like this ever again.
i have to make you better,
it is my duty.

these are the last words of andrews ego, the cripple
and the first breath of andrews conscience, the martyr

its my birthday, and coincidentally the day the first crusade was declared

so yes, it is my birthday, and i've had enough talk about me for on day so this post is going to be about your life. I now give you the beatitudes, matthew 5:1-12

And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him:

And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference

When I was really young, maybe 5 or 6 my great grandfather told me the story of the Prodigal Son. I didn't know a thing about religion, I had never been to mass and I just knew that "Jesus Christ" was something my dad said when he was annoyed. Ever since that first time I heard it it has always touched me and I think in part because I've always felt like that younger son. Anyways, here it is, excerpted from Luke 15:11-32.

There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father give me the share of his property that will belong to me.' So he divided the property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spend everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son, treat me like one of your hired hands."' So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still a far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' And they began to celebrate.

Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called on of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed you command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.

"naw man, I'm pretty fuckin far from okay"

the next couple of posts are all going to be biblically influenced, this particular one (in combination with the title) combines that with my love for Pulp Fiction. This is Jules' soliloquy and also an excerpt from Ezekial 25.

The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

she said "trapped between babushkas on a plane is a fraction of how lame it is to watch you pump the poison through your veins"

all quiet on the western front.
i'd kill for some noise.
i almost miss stupid fights
miss the melodrama
the crying
the computer's sound
as you devised new and more effective ways to cut into me
miss the pathetic sound it made
for my feeble responses.
these days everything feels like an im
fragment, fragment, abbreviation, typo, fragment.
i don't speak in sentences anymore,
i speak in excuses.
please excuse my need to apologize,
but also accept my deepest apologies.
i need your forgiveness,
if just for a while
because i can say for sure that right now,
no hyperboles or similes
i need you more than ever.
one summer day i made you a promise
and i'm trying so hard not to break it,
but at the same time i can't help but to wonder
if you even care anymore.
the worst part is that i'm trying my hardest to care right now,
but there's no love in an empty room.
there's so little you in my life
that when i write i lose track of who "you" is.
i've realized that the problem is that you gave me too many chances
and i love you for that, i was practically a boy for christs sake
but i guess eventually i just figured
i'll always have another shot
now i am very thoroughly out of chances
and lamenting over how many i wasted.
but i'm asking you, not for you another chance
but for a moment of your time, a call,
a fucking square of pixels on a screen.
right now i need you to hear me.

prostitution is revolution (you can hate me after you pay me)

i cant help but to make this post.
the new cobra starship album (viva la cobra!) and the new say anything record (in defense of the genre) are both amazing and you should buy, not pirate, both of them.

your move

bitch i go dummy like "where the fucks my chin strap?"

tucker max and tyler durden are beasts.

they gave us magic markers, so I tried to draw infinity

when a line in a song or a poem, or really anything strikes me in a certain way, it usually ends up as a title to one of these entries. this post is leftovers and stuff.

.this story's getting old, the homewrecker with a heart of gold. fall out boy
.i am heaven sent. don't you dare forget. brand new
.leave the novelist in hi daydream tomb, leave the scientist in her rubik's cube, let the true genius in the padded room, remain. bright eyes
.when I do wrong, I am with god. bright eyes
.i can be lonely if she's happy, afterall. manchester orchestra
.from a sinner to his maker: you prodigal son is on his knees. manchester orchestra
.i died for you one time but never again. brand new
.my beauty supreme, yeah, you were right about me. brand new
.this is a signpost to remind me how I wanted things this way. kevin devine
.she says its pretty but you hate yourself, I can hear it clear as day. kevin devine
.5, 4, 3, 2, 1 lets start a fire. thursday
.i'll try to make this perfectly clear: i'm so transparent i disappear. cursive

that's enough for now. I have tons more.

forget your compass and stars, this world will tear you apart

dear god,
I'm not quite sure if you're up there, or anywhere,
I'm not sure why I'm writing this
and if you do exist, I'm not sure if I want you to know this.
But I have to write it.
I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, if you haven't noticed,
and I bet I'm not your favorite son, but you should know that I'm trying.
maybe I just want to convince myself that I'm trying.
I bet people like me aren't on your divine radar
so I guess I'll do some explaining.
I'm not really proud of the things I do
but I know that I do them well,
I know that I'm doing my very fucking best
and I really want you to know that too.
usually when I write I can get a little podantic,
indulge myself with big words
but I bet you get enough of that from prayers.
I want you to know who I am.
I don't want you to pass me over, just another kid.
please
please remember this.
do you get this a lot?
ok, I'll try something else
remember this
remember the things I love
the things like falling asleep to the sound of rain on my windows
tapping my foot to love songs
walking through cities alone at night
staring at the stars from rooftops
laughing myself silly
my friends
drinking tea in a warm cabin surrounded by snow.
is that enough?
please tell me that I wont be forgotten
I'm so scarred
I'm so scarred.
this isn't the only letter I've written today,
when I woke up I wrote a letter to my future self
one line
it read "it only gets better"
because I know I can make myself happy in life,
its making everybody else happy I'm worried about
and making you happy.

Please show me that you know I exist.
I'm your biggest fan.
I'm your worst enemy, but I'm trying to change all that,
I'm done ruining the good you create.
Please remember me.
-andrew

I'm in love with love songs

and frank sinatra.

"she took pity on me horizontally, but most likely because of my band"

its just one of those days
not mondays or tuesdays or wednesdays
more like the "it depends" days.
I know that you depend on him
just cause it reminds me so much of how I depend on you.
then come the thurdays, fridays
and "it doesnt matter" days.
no, that's not right,
whatever "it" is, it sure as hell matters more than me.
hemingway's most famous work is his shortest novel
but by far the most poignant, and a fantastic way to end his career
because it was just a few years later that he put a shotgun in his mouth
and pulled the trigger with his big toe.
in the book, an old, dirt poor fisherman gets lost at sea
only to realize he's made the biggest catch of his life.
but since he's so far out, by the time he gets back to shore
the sharks have eaten the fish to the bone.
I don't think I've ever connected with a person
in quite the way that that I relate to that old man.
but maybe I'm more of a tortured genius type
like the author himself.
cause people keep telling me that they like what I do
my twisted little sentences and my dry jokes
but I just feel like a hack, or some fucking charity case.
do I really look so self deprecated that I need your vapid, jejune and hackneyed compliments?
because I'm an arrogant prick about everything else in this so called life of mine
but when it comes to this lackluster creativity, I fall short.

I've got my big toe ready but california gun control is keeping me from my shotgun.

if only you could see me, we'd dance like a heart attack

this isn't a traditional post, but these lyrics have been going through my mind for lyrics and I need to post them. the song is "me & my friends" by kevin devine, seriously check him out, he's amazing. and don't take any of it too literally.

Me and my friends, we don't encourage discipline
Or really much of anything
We do our drugs to wheel it up and tell ourselves that this is love
But it's never added up
And it'll never be enough, no it'll never be enough

The same corner booth
The same Smith Street bar
The same sour mouths
The same empty arms
Forever and ever, our lives on a loop

It's the same dollar drafts
The same whiskey words
The same hanging hearts
The same old scorched earth
Further and further, away from the truth

I wanna stop it
I wanna stop it
I wanna stop it
But it's the only life I know how to live

Make a mess of what matters, give our good grace away
We try to drink the clock backwards, and pretend like nothing's changed
But you think I'm a liar and you think I'm a fake
And I think you're a coward, but that's not what I say
I call you my brother
And you call me the same

I wanna stop it
I wanna stop it
I wanna stop it
But it's the only life I know how to live

I wanna stop it
I wanna stop it
I wanna stop it
Let the smeared words spill out of the sides of our mouths
Go be my ghost and I'll go be yours

But tonight, brother pour me one more
But tonight, brother pour me one more
Yea tonight, I'll just cut you one more
Yea tonight, I'll just cut you one more
One more, one more

seriously, what the fuck are dreams made of?

I-
it seams that this one letter controls my life lately
but I guess as I know that it goes before e (except after c) I'm probably good.
I live too much in the first person, wish that just for once I could take a peek under your skin
not in the adolescent way, I want to look deep down and find out everything about you
every one of those freckled little cells means so damn much to me, I wish I knew what made them tick
but sometimes it feels like I don't know you, and I don't even know what about you I'm still missing.
I could loose both of these ohsospecial opposable thumbs, and I think I'd be just fine,
but I can't imagine a life without you, and i have nightmares about living it.
my problem is that I'm a hopeless romantic, hopelessly stuck in a cynic's shell
because to me everyone and everythng was so fucked from the beginning
but somehow the concept of love seems to burn in my mind, giving me something to look for in this fucked up life
you have always been my northern star, always stayed true, guided me no matter how bad it got.
now you've finished one more rotation around a star, do you feel more whole? do you feel closer to where you're going?
I don't know where this is going, but I'm just so full of questions.

cracked open and filled with sugar coated instability,
this is your pinata signing off

"go haunt someone else"

this is how we do:
we make promises we cant keep and break the ones that we can
we laugh at each others expense and laugh even harder at yours
we treat serious conversations like the plague by responding to honesty with sarcasm
we treat no one with respect and we show no remorse
we are not good people
we get by feeling ok by just so long as everyone else feels like shit
i had never stopped to look at what i was because i have broken every self editing bone in my body
from the moment you hit puberty they pound into your mind that you should love yourself and be happy with yourself because every teenager feels like shit
and it worked. for some horribly twisted reason I am actually pleased with myself
I can't believe that I can live with myself but I can
it should not work this way, not everyone should love themself
if a man kills his wife for cheating he should feel pleased with himself or disgusted or guilty or depressed but he should not love himself after he has taken another human being out of this world
sometimes I think I may have killed you just a little bit inside
its when I’m thinking that that I think about killing a little bit of myself
fair trade right?
might as well kill the sarcasm and the cynicism, who needs them?
I just hope they’d be replaced with kindness and the like
but when a lizard regrows a severed limb, does it have the same attachment to the replacement?
does it think to itself “this leg can never really live up to the old one, too many memories”
what if sarcasm is my version of the old leg, what if I need it to define me?
everything is finally starting to make sense these days
but I’m scared and I’m confused

I want to leave my mind and take a stroll
just so I can walk all over my own ego
I want to knock myself down a peg or two

I was in usa today (damn you leftist liberal media)

suck on this bitches.

love, love, love (love, love)

I always thought it was funny that you not only fall in love, but also out of love.
at first I thought "well if you can fall out of love with someone wouldn't you have had to climb into love with them"
but climbing implies that you are going up, and love can only bring you down.
sure, there are those fleeting moments of happiness but in the end your lover only dies, or moves on, I'm not sure which is worse.
It's like jumping off a tall building, for the time you're in the air it probably feels like flying, but you still have to hit pavement eventually.
but falling out of love is no better, its not like once its over you climb back into normal life and move on,
falling out of love is watching from heaven as they clean the blood off the sidewalk, the whole time thinking "why the fuck did I jump?"
so ultimately in life we have two choices, to jump or not to, obviously nobody wants to end up as overtime for immigrant janitors, but if you never jump, you don't get that fleeting experience of flying.
we should just stop building skyscrapers.

iDay has arrived

here I am sitting in the iLine on the cold cement at bay street. It's not that bad, only about 7 hours to go, I cant wait to get my hands on the iPhone.

there are no elegant word plays or metaphors in this entry, its just me

I guess this is how I would blog if I weren't so desperately self involved, but we'll get to that later. I'm writing this because I feel like a piece of shit for what I'm about to do, and maybe talking about it will help. Tommorow, the almighty iPhone comes out, and I will be one of the thousands of people across the nation to line up outside an apple store to be one of the first to touch that beautiful glass screen. Seems fairly normal, but its not. This is my last day in the bay before I leave for two weeks, and there are important things I should be doing, important things I should be saying to people, but I'm not. Well to be fair, I am here saturday too, but the fall out boy show is that day. See? this is exactly my point, my love for the material is taking over my life, and slowly replacing the people I love. I wish I didn't care about fall out boy and gadgets and expensive fucking hoodies as much as I do, but it's become my escape. where's a fucking 12 step when you need one?

"i put my faith in you so much baby, and you just threw it away..."

I try so hard to make it look like I'm not trying
but now its your turn to try and hear me out.
yes, it's true that curves dont't make the woman
but if it weren't for those parabolas all these hyperboles would be in vain.
I swam to the bottom of lake
then in a series of air bubbles spoke the words "I love you"
let them float to the surface, and burst into thin air.
the oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide molecules that made up those three words were slowly replaced by liquid hydrogen and oxygen as my lungs experienced what us common folk call drowning, and as those bubbles I had formed so carefully burst one by one, color and expression drained from my face, leaving this contorted look of sadness.
I hope one day I'll be able to put my smile back,
but no one can escape science.

"the capgun cowboy caught playing dress-up"

when I get sad I wrap myself up in songs to make it all seem less real
all the "i loved everything about you that hurts" and the "I won't let them take you"s
somehow make it just a little bit better.
but when I'm happy I'm just wrapped up in thoughts of you
sometimes that just makes me sad and bitter all over again
and the songs turn to "baby I'm bad news" and "widow or divorcee"
I'm embarrassed to say that I love all your mysteries
there are so many things about you that I love not knowing.

I pray that one day you will forgive me for the things I didn't do
and give me the strength to do the things I know I should.

"old people teach us nothing but how to die"

I think I'm ready to stop trying to hide these annoying little feelings
I know that I should be ashamed of the fact that I dont care how much "us" would hurt him
but I'll wear it on my sleeve, make sure everyone knows that I love you
so that maybe you'll know one day too.

I love you like toes love being buried in the sand, like marykate loves not eating.

its been three seasons since that one that mattered most
but I can see every part of it as clear as I can see the hands that type this (who knows what controls them)
I had built such a perfect sand castle with gate of laughter and a moat of bravado and intimidation
a room for every mistake, a hallway for every friend, and special dungeon that none of the hallways could get to where I kept my heart
and then you came and in a series of magnifect breaths, brought everything I had known to the ground
I wanted to let it all just wash away in the tides but instead I dug my toes in to try and hold on to fractures of my past
until I knew I was ready to move on
then summer came to the end and beach games were done.
and now I'm turning around the corner of spring
and to my own horror I see that sand castle there just like before
but with more rooms and a bigger moat
and it looks like someone raided the dungeon while I was gone.

people make love when they can't find it

loves a funny thing
we spend forever searching for the one perfect person
and when we finally find them we just keep searching, because thats what we've done all our life
then finally settle down with that "well I guess you'll do" person
and spend the rest of our lives turning over different outcomes in our head, wondering why we didnt take #547.
I wish I could've believed myself when I said "you were just another intersection on the road to my ms. perfect"
but the fact is that you were the cul de sac on tht road,
and I made the mistake of going all the way around it.
sometimes we pick b just because a, c and d all suck more
but sometimes we skip straight to c because we know from the first instant that no matter what a, b and d say, c is just right.
I wish it had been as simple as bubbling you in
but when I read it I knew that it wasnt multiple choice, it was an essay question.

the internet makes everyone a star

so this is what its come to.
i wish i could say that this was a last resort
that I had no one left to confide in
that this mess of communication we call the internet was really the only person I had left
but its not
i have too many people who care about me to feel this empty
but I do
and I should be talking to them
but I'm talking to you.
there's a clock in the corner that doesn't move but ticks
I hear every second go by but the minutes just keep piling up
I hate it
I hate not being able to throw away all those wasted minutes and have just the tick tick ticks to deal with
coming on one year with nothing to show
i keep taking my time, you keep taking opportunites and we both could be making so much more out of it
but its easier to just feel sorry for myself
and listen to the tick tticks