houston me. i am in houston again. this time i am 18. the last time i was here was in march. alot changes between march and now. each day i wake up more and more with the reality that i am slowly becoming an adult, and this doesn't feel like an exhonerating climb, it feels like a decent into a hell full of realities that i don't want to deal with (most being, in part, related to the fact that i am getting older). what is this, like an eighth of a life crisis? i don't want to get old. i think i am acting this way because i've gone directly into the working feild. i wouldn't give this up for the world. i'm going to europe and seattle and many other interesting and beautiful places and where are my class mates? they are working just as hard as i am and paying to work hard and not getting payed a cent for the work they do. that is what college is. in ways its sad. but in ways its not. i am now realizing the fact that i will have to go to college or get some sort of degree. it sucks cuz i have talent. i could do something with that right now, but what is the catch? i don't have a degree to put on my resume. it really is all frustrating for someone who has a history of getting his cake and eating it. i should be inhaling the whole damn thing, right? i'm eighteen and on top of the world, right? this is what i am, on top of the world thirty percent of the time, and seventy percent dealing with life and it's lame responsibilities. i can understand why those middle aged men go crazy. and so now i am in houston, enjoying the fruits of my labor, harboring resentment towards my father and having a dull time with friends. this taste in my mouth is like old coffee that has been on the burner too long. theres a film floating on top of my cup, and it shines greasy. i used to feel so alive when i would come down here. how do you get something you've lost back? i'm not sure. the harder you look, the more you find out and sometimes it is more than you want to know. i haven't written a letter to Friend in a long long long time. i think it's because i've been so busy and my life didn't seem interesting anymore. and then i reread letters i have written and i recognize that i am normal. i am a normal human being, the only thing not normal is that i write every normal little thing down. and then it seems incredible because most people never realized how wonderful the mundane is. houston gives me a pain in my stomach. since my flight in on monday i have been getting stomach flu at night. i don't eat properly, my stress level should have minimized by now, but in some ways it has rocketed. this seems like swimming through mercury, thick and awkward. at times i feel suspened in motion and left like a figurine on a shelf for two years. i see things don't change, often. at least not here. i have only met two boys this week that i liked, both i have not met in the flesh, but online. i feel lame and stupid for this. but they are both really nice, aaron and abe. i'm not sure if anything will come of it. of all the people i've met online. the dates sucked with them. there was no chemistry. why do we deal with things like love? it must take a special person to put up with all the work and heartache that you invest in developing and maintaining a relationship. have you ever punched a punching bag. it's a great work out. do it after you get in an argument. this may be done to silence or music. i prefer silence so i can hear my breathing get deep. the best part is collapsing at the end, because you have punched so much that all emotion and thought leaves the body. you are a fucking tired heap of body parts taking quick and shallow breaths. and that is a sense of accomplishment. releasing something that stimulates you negatively. my dad made plans to go to a friends house and take me with him tomorrow night. it sucks because deep sky is spinning with some local djs at the 610 arena tomorrow night as well and i've had this thing planned out since before i got here. it would be a different thing if i got consulted before he went and made plans, but of course why should i expect any consideration from him. since graduating, which i might add i did not get any gift or card or amount of money for graduating in the top fifteen of my class and with silver cord and on honor roll or even fucking for graduating at all, and since turning eighteen, he no longer pays child support, nor any phone calls nor letters or emails. what is this? am i no longer your son because i am an "adult"? i feel like glass. i'm transparent and camoflouged. and so now i am through discussing houston with you, because it has not been anything worth repeating. and may george bush go fucking bless america by shutting his big fat fucking texan mouth. love always, artnerd. 031128 what's it to you? who go blather from