| I'll be home soon! |
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| 07:48am 05/05/2005 |
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mood:  energetic
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Latest and greatest! I'll be home 28 May! YAY! |
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| Quizizzle |
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| 06:20am 25/03/2005 |
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mood:  chipper
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LAST PERSON WHO...
x. Slept in your bed: Carol
x. Saw you cry: lol, a few, it was in public
x. Made you cry: honestly? I blame alcohol
x. You shared a drink with: Carol
x. You went to the movies with: lol, Carol
x. You went to the mall with: We have no mall!!! :( So... I dunno. Boo?
x. Yelled at you: Me (Don't ask)
x. Sent you e-mail: Rockin' Ric Crawford! It's a DJ thing...
x. You Kissed: Carol (silly)
HAVE YOU EVER...
x. Said "I love you" and meant it: Yes
x. Been to California: nuhuh
x. Gotten in a fight with your pet: lol, often.
x. Been to Hawaii: negative, ghostwriter
x. Been to Mexico: My girlfriend's Mexican?
x. Been to Cuba: nope
x. Danced naked: Oh yeah, and not always standing up ;-)
x. Dreamed something really crazy & then it happened the next day: This one time at basic training...
x. Wish you were the opposite sex: Yeah, but only to get girls.
RANDOM TID BITS...
x. Do you have a crush on someone: mmmm, guess so!
x. What book are you reading now: a few manuals for work
x. Worst feeling in the world: post-vomit headache
x. Future son's name: Don't jynx me like that! ... Jynx
x. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal: no room
x. What's under your bed: drawers, with clothes
x. Favorite sports to watch: full contact water polo. Drown muther F*er!
x. Siblings: NO!
x. Location: Songtan-Si South Korea
x. College plans: Not get nuked by North Korea
x. Piercings/tattoos: 3 ears, flames on my arm, and wings on my back
EXTRA STUFF...
x. Do you do drugs: Smoke smoke smoke ciggies
x. Do you drink: sometimes
x. What are you most scared of: going to hell
x. Where do you want to get married: In a straightjacket, heavily drugged, drooling.
x. Who do you really hate: A few people... I have the list somewhere...
x. Do you have a job: Hoorah Air Force! (vomit)
x. Are you for world peace: No way, World Peace would screw up my stock portfolio... Thanks G.Dubya!
STUFF...
x. Have you ever liked someone you had no chance with: Well, I AM a guy.
x. Have you ever cried over someone of the opposite sex: yuppers
x. Do you have a "type" of person you always go after: Skinny flat chested punk or goth girls. Usualy have serious attitude problems and are total dorks underneath. *sigh*
x. Are you lonely right now: Kinda?
x. Do you want to get married: Takes two.
x. Do you want kids: No, you can have them. Well... do they self-clean?
FAVORITE...
x. Room in house: funny, 1 room dorm
x. Color: red
x. Perfume or cologne: Tommy
x. Month: May
IN THE LAST 96 HOURS, HAVE YOU...
x. Cried: yup
x. Bought something: uhhuh
x. Gotten sick: a lil, Thanks Taco Bell!
x. Sang: I am now :)
x. Wanted to tell someone you loved them: Yeah...
x. Met someone new: A few people... They were added tot he aformentioned list.
x. Missed someone: always
x. Hugged someone: mmm, yeah
Thanks Julia for the quizzy funness. Word. |
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| Angst |
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| 07:12am 22/03/2005 |
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Angst: Pron: “ängkst”: N. A feeling of anxiety or apprehension often accompanied by depression.
Today’s quote of the day… ‘I’m so dark and gothic’, from SNL. I remember when we were kids, things were som much simpler a whopping 5 years ago. ‘Trendy’ has killed the emotional growth of society. This is a sad fact. At least, I think I’m sad; I can’t quite be sure because MTV has yet to have played a music video to tell me exactly how I should feel. MTV… Remind me to talk about that little hell-hole at a later date.
Bad things happen to good people. I’m dealing with several friends, all going through individual tragedies… The more ‘trendy’ the person is, the harder it is for them to deal with actual emotion. This is VERY alarming.
We learn emotion from society. American’s deal with death very differently than, say, Continental Indians. (I say continental, so you don’t start seeing feathers and war paint.) Our society is revolving so heavily around media, and media around the trends that it usually creates. What we have here is idea-inbreeding. We are learning nothing new, making no growth, and becoming increasingly weak in our character as a society.
Two of my friends have talked about ‘Not being able to go on.’ This week alone, I’ve heard this from 3 people, but one was in a poem that included the phrase ‘crimson tears’ so that is discounted immediately; but I digress. Now, Case A had recently lost her job, and was having trouble in school. This hardly constitutes the end of the world for a girl under 20. But, alas, she can’t go on. The stress of being 17, living at home, with no bills, attending a pretty swell high school, was too much for her. The littlest things lead to drama on TV, and our Music tends to say we can’t move on… So it stand to reason why she ‘can’t go on’ when life gets hard. Our TV friends never move on, and our great story tellers of song never move on… we just move to the next track, the next episode, or the next show… and everything is fine, and usually a rerun.
Now, another friend had lost her best friend. This truly is a heartbreaking experience. Most of us have lost someone close to us, and that can hurt for the rest of your life. I’m not good for emotional support, but I do like to toss some logic in. I don’t try to cheer people up, I just try to get them off they’re self-sorry behind. When you are down, I mean REALLY down, just accept the fact that you won’t be ‘depressed’ forever.
It’s strange that this would work, and stranger that it is so difficult. As a sub-culture, our generation(s) have become addicted to depression. Those who have it, hate it, but rely on it. Those who don’t have it, create it needlessly, and those who do shake it, tend to fall back quickly. Speaking in purely college terms here; The comparison between a psychological dependence to most given drugs and this new breed addiction for depression is astounding. Speaking in more high school dialect… it’s friggin’ creepy.
So, with this, I introduce you to your new psychological crutch: Your CD rack. |
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| “The Moron’s Oxymoron.” |
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| 04:31pm 21/03/2005 |
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mood:  annoyed music: Myself, prerecorded, on the radio.
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I'm think it's relatively obvious that I'm clearly confused…
The day started off almost exactly like every other day. I hopped on LiveJournal… read another poem about ‘Dried Tears and Silent Screams.’ Angered, today’s chapter is titled “The Moron’s Oxymoron.”
…”And Silent Screams tore through dried tears.”
This was the start of my day, this very line set the tone for the remaining 24 hours. In my cavernous head, a silent alarm struck my eardrums like no tomorrow. ‘Why are we writing this blather?’ I asked myself.
Tears are wet. Do you ever refer to ‘dried drops of water?’ No, because it is a substance that evaporates almost completely. Tears leave behind some salt-like substance, I would assume… Blood dries, Mustard dries, water evaporates, and so do tears.
Upon further inspection of this passage (and all others like it) reveal that the tears are ‘Crimson.’ Crimson Tears? Biding a freak food coloring accident, I assume we’re talking about blood, here. There is a Lizard often referred to as, yes, horned lizard or horny toad. As a defense, it shoots blood from it’s eyes. Humans do not have this ability. If you have crimson coming from your eye socket; odds are there is no eye, or very little left of your former ‘window to the soul.’ I shutter to think. In short, your tears are clear. For artistic purposes, we will accept blue or crystal… but crimson is for use of lizard-eye-bleeders only.
And forget not our clearly misunderstood preface to the prior ‘Silent Screams.’ Think of the logistics of a scream… Mass amounts of air passed through violently vibrating vocal chords…. There is nothing silent about this action, again, barring a freak accident (perhaps with a vacuum chamber or space). If you’re screaming silently, you are pantomime. As in Mime. Who likes a Mime? My point exactly.
To continue our point of oxymorons for morons… I dare not make an exact estimate on the amount of idiotic phrases appearing in the little original copies of your scripts, prose, poetry and other ramblings. I know that ‘silent scream’ is almost exactly as often overused as ‘alone together.’ I also know that I despise both phrases. However, comma, these are commonplace among our more moral majority. As a practice, I never generalize… generally speaking, of course… But I’m willing to bet we are all guilty of using these overused, over appreciated, and under thought phrases alone in our Marble Notebook (It IS always a marble notebook, isn’t it?) or in small crowds reciting poetry. True fact: More people write poetry that read it. Our poetry, to the masses, is as useful as affordable plastic glasses to the blind.
Now, then it stands to logical thought that these senseless terms will forever, now be avoided in your writings. Words are paint, the page is a canvas. Most of us use the same 26 characters to tatter our canvas with… And too many of us are using the same paint-by-number angst bull-crap that has served us well for nearly a decade. Time to move on, Picasso. Nobody understand you anymore. Write with meaning, make it worth reading, and never write while over tired in uniform during a short lunch break… which explains this dreadful parcel of blabber… But then, you read this far, didn’t you? |
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| OMG OMG OMG |
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| 11:12pm 09/03/2005 |
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mood: bouncy music: http://www.thebots.net/FuzzyMath.mp3
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So, I was looking for loops and stuff (music thing) and I found this... I'm so happy right now, it's insane! G.Dubbya's very own music selection... I thought I was bad... This is flat out inspiring!!!
http://www.thebots.net/FuzzyMath.mp3
There are more... but this is my fave so far...
http://www.thebots.net/Contest.htm
All can be found there.
I'm sure it's funnier if you're into politics... but as I look to this song, I smile with the happy thought that this man is my boss. |
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| beeeeep |
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| 04:55pm 09/03/2005 |
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OK, I'm swinging hard here, so I'm sorry if I seem *snippy* to people. This hasn't been the best week of my life, not the worst, but not good. Medboard is running like a well sugar-filled engine... Yayness. I'm in a perpetual state of 'holy f*ing boredome' and to top it all off... all I want to do is come home and see my old friends. I mean OLD friends, no offence to the people I've met the last few years. Example, my friend Amanda Llama, or Trisha Fish.... and no, not all my friends have animal names... but it IS an interesting trend.
I've decided I need a project to work on, since music is getting a little blah. I've decided I'm not that good... judge for yourself. Look up PyroTek on Purevolume.com or AcidPlanet.com... Feedback is nice... since honest feedback is rare in those circles.
So, I might write a book. Started as a joke... people tell me I should write a book to better reflect my style and overall attitude (or wit, as it were.) I'm not sure what to write... a few people are going for a book version of my life... If anybody has heard the stories of my days in Pelham with the redneck father and overbearing mom, then you realize there are a few stories there.
Not sure, we'll see how it goes. I've always been 99% idea, 1% action.
Oh, and WTF! I'm sick. ME. Not a cold, no, that can be treated... not the flu, I'm vaccinated. Just a runny nose... Do you realize how sick a runny nose is? Trying to talk to someone, you sound fine, you look fine, you feel ok, but snot just comes pouring out of this whole in your face. Nobody carries hankerchiefs anymore, so thats not an option... And you never want to use a sleave ro the back of your hand, because that's just gross. You see people eject 'snot rockets' a lot... but that is a gift that I'm sad to say I do not have.
I'm going to make a face diaper. We have the technology, we can make it pretty cheap... I just need to make it stylish and 'trendy' enough to catch on.
So, I'm busy now, a book and a face diaper... I should get going on that. Wish me luck.
Marc |
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| okokok |
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| 02:16am 08/03/2005 |
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I'm ok now... I had a friend come over and talk me down a little... I'm still on edge, but I'll be fine eventualy. AND i got a call on my medboard at, like, midnight. I'll go sign the new papers tomorrow. YAY! Kasie and I used to have a thing... It's only fair I use it now. Marc is a happy Chao. I've ben missing her a lot lately.... Reading her journal, looking at old photos. I'm sure that isn't helping me out a whole lot here. I just keep wondering 'what if.'
I got so freaked out by how old she was... I pushed her away all the time. When I wanted her back, she had this Don boy... and then there was Erick... I can safely say he made my life a living hell. To this day I'm not sure where her heart belonged... I hope it was with mine... but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?
OK, but I'm fine now...
Marc |
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| A mixxxed emotion. |
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| 11:17pm 07/03/2005 |
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Silent Screams of
Untold Emotions
Is there a way to
Cut through the lies
I so hopelessly
Drown in?
Even that is lost to me.
If there is a way,
Sins of the past hide it.
That something may save
Heaven from Hell
Every Dream, a nightmare, as well.
Another time
No time left.
Swing to a rhythm
Where no one can hear it.
Every one looking, staring.
Ranting Raving Reviewing Rewarding Retreating… Retreating.
For that’s what it’s come to.
Only in the worst times, run.
Run from the problems, the issues, the errors, the flaws, the life.
Everytime I step I fall to
Viral people and infectious words.
Even if I close my eyes,
Ranting, Reviewing, Rewarding, Retreating…
Your words always get the better of me.
This is the last I’ll listen
Hear my words for once
I will not obey, will not accept, will not be defeated.
Now I leave you once again.
Gone until you realize you’ve won. |
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| Well, on a happy note... I'm bored |
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| 07:37pm 07/03/2005 |
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thought id copy again
1. YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (name of first pet + street you live on):
Crystal Congress (oh babY)
2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandmother's first name + favorite snack):
Going with Grandad on this one... Roger Sushi... still going with M.Fresh
3. YOUR FASHION DESIGNER NAME: (first word you see on your left + favorite restaurant):
Play O-HOP... word.
4. YOUR FOREIGN NAME: (favorite spice girl + last foreign vacation spot):
This must be for girls... I got it from Mals LJ... So, I'm switching to Minuto...
Ricky Korea... Again... MFresh is WAY cooler
5. YOUR SOCIALITE NAME: (silliest childhood nickname + first town where you partied):
Flaming Pelham... that's either a 'fruity' drink or an STD...
6. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial + first three letters of your last name):
M.Frec... which sucks, so I'm going with M.Fresh, yo. You were wondering where this came from, weren't you.
7. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite animal + name of high school):
Iguana Alvirne... another great drink.
8. YOUR BARFLY NAME: (last snack food you ate + your favorite drink):
KitKat Dew... odd.
9. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name + street where you first lived):
Kenneth Windham... nifty.
10. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (favorite candy + favorite musicians last name):
Fireball Hayes... No comment... perhaps another undiscovered STD name.
11. YOUR OPPOSITE SEX NAME - (name of [opposite sex] friend + cell phone company you use):
Kelly Samsung... I think I actually know a Kelly Samsung in here in Korea.
Well, that was fun... Thanks Malsy for the exciting thrill ride of namology....
MFresh |
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| Hey Journal, long time no see... |
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| 06:38pm 07/03/2005 |
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Well, my mom found my journal, which even at 21 years old can be a little on the awkward side. I don't
think I've posted in a year or so... but I need an outet for my current state of mind.
So, for those who didn't know... I'm getting kicked out of the Air Force. Yay. Of course, for those of you in the know, you realize that this about as new as hearing that the market for Zepplin Transportation is not a very active one. Well, I started a medboard, oooh, about a year ago. Results came back after a much anticipated wait of 2 months... there were errors on it, so it has to be fixed and sent back. No problem. About 4 months later this error-free copy is sent out by my doctors. I waited like a Jewish kid waiting for Santa... exactly. It came back with errors. Same ones as before, as a matter of fact. Well, by now I'm seeing new doctors who must meet me and evaluate me and... I think this is similar to testing shampoo on lab rats, only without the silky after-effects. So, the new and improved doctors sent out my new medical evaluation only a month or two ago... it came back last week. You all get one guess on the results... If you guessed that nothing went wrong, you win jack shit.
Errors... same ones... same thing... still waiting...
Meanwhile, my situation is becoming increasingly scary.
Mom, stop reading about here... this is for my not-so-worried friends to help out with.
I'm losing my grip, hardcore.
I'm in a pretty constant state of 'WTF-Mate?' Disoriented, disfigured. I'm not sure what emotion is the 'right one' for any given situation, save the fact that I probably have the wrong one. Existance is confusing. I'm not getting dumber, I'll stll talk your ear off about quantum theory, but the notion that I exist is starting to slip. I found myself staring at a wall, an open door, and the wall behind it for about 15 minutes today, just swaying. It looked 'flat' to me. Unreal, too close to make sense, like it was drawn into reality by some hollywood stage crew.
I'm having trouible with my words too. I'm disorganized. Words are kind of finding thier way into sentances where they shouldn't be. I used the word 'apple' as a verb to describe falling the other day. I was walking up the stares and almost 'appled'. It made perfect sense to me. Yes, I'm sober.
So, disorganized thought, borderline delerious... can it get much funner?
Well, aside from severe selfdoubt, lack of communication style, energy and motivation... yup.
I'm more scared of this than anything else... which is silly... but it's not. My scars itch. The world is flat, I can't think straight, I have one foot on Earth... but the main issue is that my scars are itchy... see, silly right? But it's freaking me out.
I know scars feel strange... and maybe itchy scars are normal... but this is scary. They itch, nothing gets rid of it until it goes away on it's own. and I have to look at them all the time to scratch... These fucking burnt up wrists... I hate why i did it, and it's a battle not to cut or burn more, just to make it go away a little... but i don't. Neh.. I'm flipping out about it. I wonder if insanity can be this gradual? I feel myself losing touch, and I have to try to keep myself grounded... but I'm losing it quick.
Remember when we were kids? We would lie down with the lights off, and all at once this rush of emotion would hit is because 'something was comming for us?' I can't shake that feeling now. The fucking lightswitch is broken. I need a flashlight or something to scare this all away... but all I have are pills... that's a battle in it'self. I don't want to be on those again... and I should be... but I don't want to. I don't want to wear a leash to protect me from cars, I'de rather just learn not to run into the street.
I hope I can get a grip soon... this whole thing is driving me nuts... oh the irony.
Marcus |
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| I'll have the shot of reality... with a gunpowder chaser. |
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| 06:30pm 05/06/2004 |
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mood:  nauseated
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Real is the drug that keeps me from peace. It's a bitter, chalky pill that I hate more than any of my others. I take it into my blood without knowing, left with it's horrid side effects.
Warning: May cause fatigue, nausea and rapid loss of hope.
I remember how she would call to her. I remember that look in her eyes, knowing that siren call would someday make her immortal. I need to give up the real. Let me live in her dream and all will be well. I have too much holding my to the real. These chalky pills, long talks, and scripture about morality. Pretend to help with my soul placed firmly to your sole. Soul to sole. Which is the one most walk on?
It was a rancid revelation. I don't know what I'm meant for, should there be such thing as a higher calling. I really don't know a lot, despite the trivial shit I seem to call at will.
People hide behind God, a creation a few men made to solve their problems? and like a painless lobotomy, it caught on like wildfire.
?I do have that tendency to ramble when I right what's on my mind. This is how it comes to me. This is the shouting thoughts, combined with the occasional voice and all too common sui-sadicstic day-dream. The sick irony is how addicting it is when that's all you know. I swallow pills to make it stop, and I miss them so much I stop my dose of reality to return to them.
Have you ever known true pleasure? True love? I find it all so often, only to realize it's just another manic whim on my part. I'm so sick of fighting myself. I'm so sick of doubting myself. I've written dozens of suicide letters. I find the term 'note' to be just a bit cruel. Like your final words would be well suited on any post it.
I digress. I've said goodbye so many times, but never left. I know it's guilt that keeps me behind, or the joy of mania. Maybe it's the promised land of psychotic episodes that lures me to swallow the rusted hook at the sunken end of existence I call life.
I'm suffocating, but I'll never die. I'm bleeding from both arms, but I never run dry. I have a stomach full of pills swirling in alcohol, and all I'll get is that nasty hangover of guilt, and a nice 'note' to use as a coaster for the next bottle.
I'm tired of saying goodbye, and it seems as though greeting all those unwanted heartbeats would be a mood point. My scars, it seems, burned into my soul? if I have one at all.
A select few people make my life bearable. I hope you realize who you are. And I thank you all. To one of you in particular, since you beg for me to write, I know you'll read this. Don't let me go, even when I push you away. I'm so close to the end? I know I'll push you away? while I'm in a somewhat solid state of mind I'm begging you? don't let me go.
I don't want to live. I want to slit my wrist and be over with it. I dream of tracing the scars with a razor, knowing it won't hurt at all. I want to feel the warmth leave my body, while the horrors of living trace close behind. I want to close my eyes for the last time. But more importantly than anything else, and this is all that keeps the razors in the drawer and off my flesh? I don't want to hurt any of you? When I push you? please don't be mad. I love many of you so much, and trust me? it hurts.
Marc |
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| I'm commin home! |
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| 12:50pm 24/03/2004 |
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I'm on my way home in a little bit... I'm landing in MAnch-Vegas tonight... Fair Girl, you and I are going to MAn-Ray... riiiiiiiight!?
Much love!
Marc |
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| lol, OK! |
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| 10:01pm 03/03/2004 |
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Alright, this time I got it!
1-410-674-7700 ext. 7309
THERE! Love ya all! muah! |
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| oops |
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| 11:39pm 02/03/2004 |
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Correction! 1-401-674-770 ext 7309 THERE! |
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| ok kids |
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| 11:21pm 02/03/2004 |
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So, I'm in Baltimore now... it's a pretty easy drive if anybody wants to pay a visit... I recomend you do, might not get a chance! At least take advantage of my stateside residence to give me a call @ 1-401-674-770 ext 7309. Love ya all! |
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| I want you to want me. |
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| 01:42am 29/02/2004 |
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I'm leaving for the states in a few hours. I'll be in Maryland for the next month... If anybody wants to visit, you're more than welcome, I'll be thier for classes and stuff. I'm taking a short vacation after, but I'll only be home in NH for a few days (3-4) Send me an email if you want to come visit me... I don't know how many people I'm going to see when I'm home, I plan on spending at least a day with Kasie, just remembering and junk... Hope to see some of you while I'm in the states!
Marc |
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| Coma White |
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| 01:26pm 12/01/2004 |
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A lot of people asked, so, here. I'm on Depakote. It;s an antiepileptic, but I guess it's good for migrains and Bipolar... Kids love 'em too... Blah Blah Blah. I'm in the middle of a show right now, and I'm bored... Thats bad. Oh well, at least the music is ok... Perfect Circle is next... yay...
C-ya all on the flip-side.
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| bleed. |
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| 12:00pm 10/01/2004 |
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So these pills I'm on are horrid little demons. They work great to keep my from getting high, but they don't stop the bloody flash-frames and the desires. My doctors a both pretty cool. My pill doctor is a cold, factual man. While my psych is a bit warmer, which pisses me off. I manage to shock him every visit, whih is kind of sad.
Small world, it turns out he was the doctor at Ft. Meade that I worked so hard to avoid. Interesting how these things work out.
oh well, I need to go to work... it's my day off... I need to find a hobby :-\
Sweet dreams kids.
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| A step closer. |
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| 09:55pm 24/12/2003 |
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mood:  nervous music: Coma White - Manson
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I went to the psychologist today... My first time at this base. Surprise, I'm fucked up. The official diagnosis is Bipolar. Good news, I can still stay in the Air Force unless I keep getting sent to the hospital. So I'm pretty thrilled at the thought of recovery, or dealing, or whatever. I just wish I got around to doing this before it got the better of me, and before I burnt the only good relationship I've had. So, yeah, it's a visit a week with a psychologist and soon to be a visit a week with a psychiatrist for drugs.
A normal Marc... Sounds kind of wierd.
Part of me is scared of losing who I am to a pill. I don't like the idea of medicating myself out of emotions for the rest of my life. I don't want to lose my highs. Why am I so bothered by this? Why am I afraid to miss an illness? How much of myself is tied in with the syndrome? What would you do if a person offered you a pill that would potentially change everything you are? Will I be a shell? MYmind conjurs images of hypnotized automotons. What will I become? What will this make me?
The drugs are my choice. I don't want to lose myself, butI've woken up too many times not knowing who I was. I've spent too much time with knives on my wrists and no reason to push it through or lift it off. I have too many scars on my wrists from cigarettes.
I guess I'm at risk of losing myself either way.
A pill to make me numb. A pill to make me dumb. A pill to make me anybody else.
Who will I be?
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I won't change at all. Maybe I'll just be... normal.
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mfrechette's journal