Gerri needs to shut up.

Saying none of us care is idiocy. We’ve all been trying for him, but it’s he who insists on negating everything, he who goes through the mood swings that could shame any menopausal woman, he who makes talking to him an exercise in misery. He’s not dead yet, but he refuses to let anyone hold on to the bit of hope that he might still be able to get through it.

He’s probably scared, definately unhappy about the situation, so a few outbursts of anger and frustration are fine, and really, no one could blame him for that. But no one can be expected to be miserable for his sake while he’s still here. We all know what’s happening, but no one wants to be guilted as if they should be in a constant state of tears.

That’s why no one talks to you anymore. It’s getting to the point where people would almost rather forget you than try to cope with your constant, slow state of dying that you insist is inevitable, and should be the all-important burden on every conversation.

I’ll cry when you’re dead. Not before that.

Some, anyway. Not the ones I know and associate with personally, obviously.

So anyway, this guy adds me off of whatever forum (I belong to far too many, but I THINK it was Wicked Alchemy), and he’s an art student. (WAT!?!?!?! You’re an art student!? Reallyyyyyyyyyy???) Apparently, since I’m on Wicked Alchemy, the forum for an artist friend of mine’s site, I must be too, or else wish I was, or plan to be, or just be obsessed with all things art and the deep emotional feelings that are portrayed through the different angles of brush stroke and the wonderful, soul-wrenching beauty in the 148 shades of blue that just happen to look like 1!

Except I’m not. I like art, don’t get me wrong, but I’m more a fan of traditional styles. Give me a good realism drawing or impressionist painting or something of that variety, and I’m happy. I’ll like it. It’s art, in my opinion.

A goddamn blue square is not art. There is nothing special to it, nothing deep in it, no emotion in it, nothing. It is. A fucking. Geometric shape.

He must know though, because he’s an ART STUDENT. Too bad he sucks and no one needs or cares about anything he will ever learn, since no one on earth gives a flying fuck if you can write a 10 page essay on Jackson Pollock’s dick.

Oh, and he thinks Jackson Pollock is a great artist. (For those unfamiliar, he’s probably one of the most famous people to ever splatter paint on a canvas and bullshit it off as art.) He sees “meaning in his work, especially the subtleties in the directions he chooses and the contrasts it makes.”

I hate Jackson Pollock with every fibre of my being. Even more than Dr. Phil. I don’t care if he’s dead, I hate him. The crap he produced looks like he shoved paint brushes into various orifices so he could act out some likely retarded sexual fantasy, then had an alcohol-induced seizure and made a mess. The fact that it came from him made it “art”. That, or he had a bout of indigestion while he was trying to do a real painting, and found it was easier to do that than to produce anything of substance.

I hope this kid gets beaten to death with his très artiste macbook.

[5:51 PM]

You know, I’ve never really looked at him before, but that Carver guy Danny and Chris and them know… he’s kinda ugly. Like, wtf. He makes me think of an iguana. D=

If I ever decided to jump off a cliff, would I close my eyes, or keep them open? And would I hear anything for the split second before I’m dead? What would it sound like?

So, went to see The Happening with Dawn, Shay, Shane, and Craig. It was full of gloriously bad acting and lines, and a crazy old lady. Long story short, the plants are mad at people and are like, “BITCH YOU GON’ DIE! -spore spore-” and you end up infected/poisoned/whatever and kill yourself with whatever’s handy. And hotdogs are totally underrated, it seems. It’s a good thing Dawn wants to garden.

Last night was some birthday party at Dawn’s, where I got to actually MEET Shane. Good times were had. And good food. And KC ATE SHAY’S CAKE. =_=

I decided Shane is wtf adorable and I wholeheartedly approve of him. Not that it would really matter in the long run if I DIDN’T, but ya know. No awkward moments of hatred in the future!? =D

But yes. He’s little and sounds little and it’s cute. Not like a little kid little, but just… not big. Mmyes.

I need more people to talk to. There are only 4 or 5 I still do regularily.

So, quick update before I go for work:

I got Metal Gear Solid 4 on Thursday. I beat it last night. I love that game with a passion and it’s full of epic and win. Though there are plot twists coming out of everything, and if you don’t like cinematic cut scenes in games, you’d hate this game, because even though they are VERY well done, some of them are over 30 minutes long. I think one might have been over an hour. But I wasn’t really paying attention to the time, so I’m not 100% on that.

My laptop is dead. We sent it away to get fixed. It should take a few weeks, we were told, so for the time being I’m using my old desktop. Blaaaarrrrrggggg.

I hate gay people. Seriously. We suck. Stop being such egocentric fags already. YOU DON’T NEED TO BE A BITCH TO LIKE BOYS. GOOD GAWD. [Long story. Suffice to say I dislike yet another non-straight Kelowna person. Not that I don't dislike some straight people, because I do. Oh, do I ever. But this is more because he tried WAY too hard to be gay. Elton John would have told this guy to grow a pair. But he wasn't there, so I did, and came home.]

DAWN’S BIRTHDAY THING TOMORROW WOOOOOOT. I have to work in the morning, but that’s okay. I’m done at 3 and then I’m off the next day, which is when, assuming the semi-plan sticks, we’re gonna go see The Happening. OH OH OH AND JOSH MIGHT COME TO SOMETHING FOR ONCE OMG. I invited him, because I don’t need to worry about asking them, because he’s Josh and everyone loves him. You can’t not. He’s the most adorably stupid person evar.

And now, I shower.

So, since the last update, nothing interesting has really happened in real life, except that Alex got a boyfriend, and I wanted to ask if he knew he has herpes, but I thought that would be rude, so I kept that thought to myself. However, I did have two rather odd dreams, hence the title.

The first, I was at work. In my top large drawer, I found an entrance to a secret cave underground that was filled with amazing artwork, and there were a few people I don’t know but who looked rich down there with me, looking at it. Then, somehow it started to catch on fire, and everyone had to get away. So we all clambered out the drawer, but then I realized I’d be in trouble if the store burned down, so I had to try to stop the fire. I ended up making the connection that, since it was feeding off of artwork, it must be a sensitive and emotional fire, so I started making fun of it, and lo and behold, it began to feel bad about itself and stopped burning until it sputtered out. I guess that’s the fire equivalent of wrist slashing or something.

And then during my nap before now, I dreamt I was running around in the lake (how I ran IN the lake, I don’t know), when my eyeballs started to feel funny. Then they started yelling and screaming in Dawn’s voice (wtf!?) about how they were displeased with me and my lookings, and I must cast a spell to change the colour of my eyes or else they shall never stop screaming.

So I had to go on a journey across the land, which conveniently I saw from a very high viewpoint, so it all looked like a map, until I found a witch’s cave. I went in and met the witch, who turned out to be Sarika (BAHAHAHAHAHA). She stared at me in silence for a while, then eventually whispered, “You are so broken!” and started cackling and threw her cauldron at me.

I dodged the cauldron, and she said, “Good, good, you have passed my tests three. Take this thine potion of eye transmogrification, and be free from the foul spirit that plagues thee!” After that, she took in a big breath and yelled, “FILIPINO FURY!” with enough volume to blow me out of the cave (in a cape I apparently donned in the meantime). So I put the potion in my eyes, and Dawn jumped out of them yelling and running around like a retard (think Jim Carry in Ace Ventura), and then dissolved, and my eyes were fine.