| Help! I'm going to jail for good! |
[Jul. 28th, 2007|01:19 am] |
This year, I have the honor and pleasure of participating in MDA's Telethon Executive Lock-Up 2007 to help "Jerry's Kids®". To reach my goal I need your help!
I'd like to include you or your company on my list of contributors who are helping me reach my goal. Your donation would help MDA continue the important fight against muscular dystrophy. Check out my web page by clicking on the link above. There you'll find all kinds of information about MDA, and be able to make your tax-deductible donation on-line using your credit card.
MDA serves people in our community with neuromuscular disease by providing clinics, support groups, assistance with the purchase and repair of wheelchairs, braces and communication devices, and summer camp for kids. MDA also funds research grants to help find treatments and cures for some 43 neuromuscular diseases that affect people of all ages, right here in our community.
I sincerely hope that you'll take the opportunity to support MDA. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call or e-mail me.
On behalf of the families MDA serves, thank you!
Warmest Regards,
Adam Van Kirk
574-329-0123
Taigitsune@Gmail.com
https://www.mdaevent.org/ParticipantInfo.aspx?j=bcff6c15-0be6-4127-baad-b39438a856f9 |
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| A letter whose time has come. |
[Jun. 27th, 2007|02:16 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  exanimate | ] |
Dearest Sarah,
I'm going to expand my last note a bit and say what I really wanted to say to you. Read it or not, I don't really care. I just need to get it off my chest so I can finally try to forget about you. Take heart, because this will be the last communication you will ever receive from me.
I found you recently on MySpace, no doubt due to what you would now consider a lapse in judgement in allowing your profile to be viewed by the public. I was surprised at how you had aged apparently in a similar fashion to how I have. I marveled at how much you look like my mother and how you had pursued nursing as she is now. I deliberated at length to determine the message I could send to you that would contain the most meaning without being overtly creepy or lengthy to the point of not being read in its entirety. The message I settled on was the most condensed version of the whirlwind of emotions contained by this weak little organic frame I've been given. "I'm sorry."
Nearly immediately, and no doubt for fear of being bothered further, you set your profile to viewable only by friends. I expected a reaction like that. I have to admit I hoped for better, but that's what I expected. I wish you had even the slightest idea what a slap in the face that is. You would hold a grudge so long that even after all these years you can't even find the decency to even speak to me. Not even enough to say "Leave me alone."
Let's go back to what I imagine started it all; the letter. You moved. Nothing could change that. It had to happen. I get it. Even before you moved, I could sense you were distancing yourself from me to lessen the pain of separation. I also wasn't treating you with the respect and dignity you deserved. Either way, the result was the same. I got a wonderful letter from you outlining your first experiences in your new home. What a change it must have been! Seeing a space shuttle launch firsthand, living in a new home, and making new friends all made the list. In response, I sent you what is most likely to this day the most horrible piece of writing I've ever brought to fruition. I mentioned dog crap, cat puke, maggots, fleas, and more than likely some other unsavory items in a feeble attempt to outline how I was feeling without you and how my year in school was going.
Let me bring you up to speed on that year's events. I had just lost my best friend, who was even more important to me than Josh and the first person I felt any sort of romantic love for. I was being picked on mercilessly by my peers. My grades and self-esteem were suffering, and to top it all off I had an abusive teacher. The single person who should have protected me from my torment ended up joining in on it. I was yelled at nearly every day. I had my things taken from me and never returned. I had a chair thrown at me, all by Mrs. Herczeg. When I told my parents about it, they didn't believe me. They didn't buy it until they got a call from some of the other parents asking why their kids had come home crying about the way I'd been treated at school. Obviously I was immediately yanked from the class, but the damage had been done. Am I justifying the content and tone of my letter? Not on your life. What I need you to understand about that letter is that in its own sick way it was a cry for help. You were the only other person in my entire cosmos that had shown an inkling of kindness and trust to me, and I hoped that in some way you could help me. How foolish I was, and how foolish I continued to be.
As soon as the letter was out (contrary to my parents' sage advice), I realized what a mistake I had made in sending such a piece of filth to you. I used my imagination to envision you proudly reading the letter aloud to your folks and falling abruptly silent as you got to the juicy part, face reddening with embarrassment. Looking back, I think I can safely admit that my letter was the single biggest mistake I've ever made in my entire life. The only way I could fathom to try and right the wrong was to call and try to apologize, an action you may or may not be aware of. There were several tearful messages left on your parents' answering machine over the years, each becoming more and more insistent and desperate. Eventually I gave up on ever speaking with you again. You only came to mind once in a great while, mostly in relation to another failed relationship. With the mind of an adult, I can imagine how annoying and perhaps even frightening those messages must have been, and I don't even know how to go about apologizing to your family for the distress I put them through for my own selfish needs.
Remember all the good times we shared? The field trips? Stolen smooches on the bus? That dinner at Pizza Hut where I showed off my "meditation" skills? The way you thought people had "butts" in the front too? The time I came over and beat Shadowgate and played around on the computer with you? The way we switched glasses? The way you stuck up for me? My 10th birthday party at the bowling alley? I'm collecting them all, the good and the bad, and putting them in a proverbial gift box. With them I put wishes for your well-being and the best that life can bring to you. I include the promise of never having to think of or see me again. Keep them or throw them away, but I'd like for you to have them because I don't want them anymore.
Sincerely and Finally,
Adam Garrett (Funk) Van Kirk |
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| Public Shootings |
[Apr. 20th, 2007|08:40 am] |
I'll be honest, I don't know a whole lot about the most recent shooting at Virginia Tech, but I'm forced to muse on the fact that it happened so close to the 8 year anniversary of the Columbine High School Massacre. I remember exactly what I was doing that day; hanging out in the AV room at the Career Center's Broadcast Communications class. I remember turning on the TV to images of people crying and holding one another, and helicopter flyovers. I remember the sick feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach when I found out that a girl I was in choir with had actually attended Columbine. I remember wondering what could possibly cause anyone to commit such an act.
Those feelings are echoed today as people are asking for moments of silence and prayer.
I seriously can't figure it out. I know we live in a world where nearly anything is possible, but what sort of events cause a person to make that choice? I had a pretty rough time as a teenager, often wondering what purpose my life would serve and if anyone would miss me if I were gone. I recall wanting to seriously hurt, possibly even find a way to kill a few people. I never confused them for the innocent people surrounding them; the innocent. I never even went as far as pushing someone around. Even putting myself in the place of a madman, I can't find the gall to imagine shooting anyone in sight.
Then there's the fact that the Westboro Baptist Church is planning to picket the funerals of victims of the Virginia Tech shootings. Don't get me wrong, I'm a BIG supporter of free speech. I think we should be able to say what we say when we want to say it. I balance that against the fact that these people are harassing, even assaulting people attending these funerals, and I find it hard not to be enraged. These people don't believe in love or any positive religious message. They only exist to push their shallow-minded morals on others and promote their own elitist ideals. I can't imagine there haven't been laws passed protecting funerals and other such functions that by their very nature are private. Nothing good can come from preying on the dead.
Do me a favor, dear reader. If anyone from WBC or any other such group shows up to my funeral to exercise their first amendment right of free speech, exercise your second amendment right to bear arms and drive those vultures away.
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| Gahhh. x.x |
[Oct. 2nd, 2006|01:00 am] |
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Note to self: When making travel arrangements for company training, make sure you check with your CAE for the confirmation number that keeps you from sleeping in your car. |
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| Sublimation. |
[Aug. 16th, 2006|01:40 pm] |
Have you ever made a decision in your life that you just knew beyond all reason was the right thing to do? That's the feeling I get every day lately. I'm genuinely happy for the first time in so long, I forgot what it felt like.
I'm gradually settling into the apartment. The internet got hooked up on Monday and we were lucky enough to get free cable TV with it. I have a beautiful room, an adorable cat, and awesome roommates to appreciate it all with.
I haven't even given a second thought to relationships (Except maybe a bit of regret) lately, which is the way it should be. The companionship I have now is more to me than I thought it could be, and I couldn't be happier. I take that back. I could be, but I'm too cautious for haphazard happiness.
Device: SonyEricssonK610i/R1CB001 |
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| A lot has changed lately. |
[Aug. 3rd, 2006|01:00 pm] |
I finally did it. I moved out of my parents' house into a beautiful second story apartment in Maple Lanes. Everything has just fallen together so well, I have no other choice but to believe it was meant to be. I'm sharing the apartment with two girls I get along with extremely well and who I've known for years. The apartments have a pool and an exercise room at the front office. i got a monumentally sweet deal on a twin size bed with drawers underneath. It came with a headboard and matress for $150.
I also finally ended up with one of the kittens from the litter Kenny's cat had back in November. Runt was quite possibly my favorite of the whole bunch and I'm fairly certain I was there when he was born. He's already taken quite well to his new surroundings and I'm sure he'll be showered with the love and affection he deserves.
All that being said, I can't tell you what a boon this has been for my mental well-being. I feel so at ease and happy now that I have a place of my own. I can't even imagine what it's going to be like when I build my house.
Device: SonyEricssonK610i/R1CB001 |
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| Fuck me. |
[Jul. 13th, 2006|06:03 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Soulless | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Cynergy 67 - The Touch | ] |
While writing a journal about how much I hate myself lately, I hit the hangup button on my phone, effectively erasing several paragraphs of eloquent language highlighting my shortcomings. I proceeded to throw my phone to the ground, shattering the case and screen.
I should be euthanized. |
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| Let's hope this dream isn't prophetic... |
[Jul. 10th, 2006|09:00 am] |
I had a dream last night about an ex-girlfriend. It revolved around a medical checkup in which they discovered some sort of lesion or tumor in her uterus. They decided she would need to have a hysterectomy. As I recall, she wasn't very torn up about it because she has no interest in having children, but I was struck with unnaturally profound grief because I realized what a good mother she would've been when she finally calmed down. Even now that I'm awake, I find the idea extremely upsetting. I truly wish her better than that, even if she wouldn't give me the same courtesy.
That being said, I just can't seem to get my blood flowing today. I shouldn't be as tired as I am today. It feels like I've been drained of all my good karma. I suppose I deserve it after arguing with her like I did. It's clear that I inherited my stepfather's hot-headedness. It's going to take a lot of effort to fix that, if I ever can.
Device: Nokia3220/04.58 |
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| Goodbye, OKCupid... |
[Jul. 7th, 2006|10:00 pm] |
I deleted both my OKCupid accounts. I have no business dating and nobody worth talking to ever messaged me on there anyway.
I'm so sick of trying, I just want to fall asleep and never awaken.. |
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| Fireworks and Spirits |
[Jul. 5th, 2006|01:00 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  *yawn* | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Jesse Cook - Parasol | ] |
Well, happy July 4th everyone. Hopefully you all had a good time and don't happen to live with any shellshocked veterans. I just got back from Ekins' place after enjoying being stupid with live explosives. I'm just glad I didn't have to pay for them, hehe.
Speaking of paying for consumer grade explosives, does anyone else find it sickening just how high the margin on fireworks is? I mean, come on, that assortment you just spent $150 on was probably made for $20 by some poor limbless Chinese guy trying to scrape together enough to feed his boys.
On another note, I ended up running into Nicole and Brad last night at Constant Spring. Pretty odd coincidence, really, considering the fact that neither party is very prone to go bar-hopping. I guess I can chalk some of it up to the fact that they live in Goshen. There's still some awkwardness between myself and Brad, which really sucks, but it was good to talk to Nicole. Makes me feel like I didn't lose every friend I had as a result of the breakup. Don't get me wrong, it was still difficult talking to her just by virtue of the fact that I was in a bar and I really don't know her very well. I ended up tossing back 3 pints of microbrew and forgetting all my troubles. It was nice.
I wish I'd gotten 8 hours instead of 5 at work today though, because of holiday pay. Ahh well, I get to awaken myself in 5 hours and do it all over again. Lucky me. |
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| Woohoo, bar time! |
[Jul. 3rd, 2006|11:55 pm] |
So I have to work tomorrow from noon to five, but here I am in spite of that fact, riding in the back of Kenny's truck on the way to Constant Spring.
I've been thinking a lot about the breakup lately. I know almost none of you know anything about it, but it's good for me to get it out. I realize now that her mood is pretty much dictated by just exactly what you have to offer her. This makes her the lowest common denominator: a gold digger. That's right, I went there. And I see no reason why I should be remorseful or apologetic for it. There's really no other conclusion I can draw from the evidence I've been given.
But enough about that. I'm hoping to enjoy myself tonight. I don't want to meet anybody, I just want to relax and have a good time.
Device: Nokia3220/04.58 |
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| Another wild dream... |
[Jun. 29th, 2006|07:30 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Work | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  hopeful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Bob & Tom | ] |
I had such an amazingly colorful and inspiring dream last night. The frightening thing is how entirely plausible it is. Keep in mind that as I'm typing this out, my conscious mind is making subtle changes and dramatizing the whole thing a bit. That's what happens when dreams are translated by the awakened mind.
It all started with the Earth shaking. Panic. Terror. Despair. Some sort of comet or asteroid had collided with us. I really remember very little of how it all began. What was more important was how it developed.
The atmosphere had become clouded and thick with ash, keeping the sun's warming rays from penetrating very well, creating a lasting and dire winter. All public utilities were out of service, and the government had collapsed. We were either in some remote community or everything surrounding us had been destroyed, so that we were completely out of touch with any other communities. For a time, anarchy reigned and people committed horrible acts against one-another. The citizens of our community huddled amongst each-other, begging for any scraps of food they could find. The whole scene was rather reminiscent of war-time Siberia. It didn't take long for this type of behavior and the people responsible for it to die out. The people realized that they had to form some sort of organization or perish in selfishness.
A community government was formed, and people were casted into roles suited to their talents. I was involved in the first expeditions to find out what, if any utilities were still in working order. I don't remember how, but somehow we discovered some sort of government building that still had electricity which was most likely supplied by geothermal energy. Much to our delight, we discovered an intact radio, and could barely contain our excitement as we made our first efforts to contact someone, anyone else.
A response to our transmissions was almost immediate. The people we were in contact with came from a surprising source: the International Space Station. We could hear the fear and sadness in their voices as they described the impact and how they had to watch helplessly as undoubtedly millions upon millions perished and the skies slowly clouded over. Among the tinge of trepidation in their voices, we could hear hope. They had assumed that all of Earth's population had perished in the catastrophe, and they would live out the remainder of what time they had left watching their world slowly die. As depressing as it was, we had to let them go because their orbit didn't match ours and they were leaving radio range, but with their departure, a plan began to take form.
Over time, that building became a community center of sorts. Water was available for people to carry away to their various multi-familiy homes. A projector in an old debriefing room was set up with old movies, which allowed the members of the community to come together and appreciate the golden age of films. People began to piece their lives together, and a new artistic renaissance began to flourish. Sculptures and art pieces began to spring up all over the community, bravely facing the bitter cold.
As the Space Station finally came back into orbit, it was time to work on our plan to bring the astronauts home. They would provide invaluable skills to our growing community and had little choice of places to go. Using their onboard computers and collaborating with the greatest minds among us, we finally came up with a plan to clear out the town square so they could land an escape pod. The trajectories were calculated, and everyone got together to see that the square was clear of debris for the landing. The margins were slim, and the risk was high. We bid them good luck shortly before breaking radio silence, and all stared at the sky with hope.
Just as we were all beginning to think something had gone horribly wrong, we saw a red streak through the sky that got closer and closer, until finally we saw chutes open around the capsule as it slowed and gradually descended, landing just off center in the square. Everyone gathered around the smoldering pod, gathering closer and closer, hoping for any signs of life. A click and a hiss announced that the crew had made it safely, and they were greeted to a heroe's welcome. As morning came for the first time in months, the sun broke through the clouds and lit up our small community as if to smile brightly on its future. |
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| Gah... |
[Mar. 18th, 2006|07:27 am] |
Why is it that right when you feel nice and balanced and stable, something comes along and upsets your teacup?
I just wish she hadn't let me get to feel the way I did for her. I can't be hurt that she made a choice that wasn't me. It's her choice after all. I just get tired of going through the motions. |
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| To all you happy couples out there... |
[Feb. 14th, 2006|11:35 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Malcontent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Marilyn Manson - Tainted Love | ] |
Screw you all. Thanks for making me feel so entirely inadequate more than any other day of the year!
All angst aside, it's just another day, and it's almost over, so fuck it.
I got my oil changed with full synthetic oil. That mixed with the mid-grade fuel I got for the same price as regular has me zooming around like crazy. It's like having a new car. |
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| Oh yeah! |
[Feb. 9th, 2006|11:52 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Sexually stunning | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Taproot - Poem | ] |
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| Time to get my butt moving. |
[Feb. 5th, 2006|10:13 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Creative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Classical | ] |
I had some intense dreams about wrongful imprisonment last night. Not really sure why. Hopefully I can follow with some details later, assuming I remember them.
In other news, my photo blogging script that none of you know about has been coming along swimmingly! I'm nearly to the point where I can go live with it and just improve it as I go along! w00t! |
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| Interesting... |
[Jan. 17th, 2006|12:51 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Hurt | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Amitabah Chant | ] |
I had this odd dream sometime today as I was sleeping. I had to use the bathroom pretty bad, but I couldn't figure out where the hell it was. Some guy led me over to the stairwell leading downstairs, and I'm thinking "What the bloody hell?" Then, out of nowhere, I notice a handle on one of the stairs and I start getting the picture. He leans over and grabs the handle, picking the stair up to expose a rectangular toilet underneath it. Weirder yet, when I looked into it, there was an image of a stained glass window, as if there were a solid window pane rather than water there, but somehow I knew it wasn't really there. It was more like there was just a void there, not really water or anything, just a portal to nowhere. That explained the lack of a handle for flushing it. I looked closer and saw the stained glass being lit from behind at what would be the back of the toilet, and somehow the image was being transferred to what should be the water, as if by a magic mirror. This attracted my curiosity greatly, at which point I decided to see exactly what this toilet contained. Sanitary issues aside, I pointed my finger and slowly lowered it into the box, not fully knowing what to expect. When finally my finger met something, I saw the image of stained glass ripple and something shockingly, nearly painfully cold enveloped my finger. I awoke with a start to the realization that I had to use the restroom rather badly, as if the ripples of the stained glass image reflected the ripples cast in my dream by my awakening; a surreal experience to say the least.
In other news, I met the Venerable Shi Wuling today at my church. She's an Amitabah Buddhist Nun, and quite an amazing woman to boot. I spent some time listening to the teachings of Amitabah, followed by a walking, then seated, then silent meditation. I told her I had no love offering to give in the form of money, as I had not yet cashed my check and things have been kind of rough for me lately, but that I could share my love with her in the form of a hug. She was quick to stop my open-armed advance by letting me know she was unable to hug males. I'm not sure why, but in that moment I felt both hurt and embarassed. My intentions were pure, yet she turned down the only thing I could offer, something I rarely offer to someone I know so little of. I suppose I was also hurt because I don't necessarily view myself as merely male. I want to rise above my physical being and just "be." I felt discriminated against, as if she didn't want to know the real me. Either way, I left with a couple free books which I intend to read and enjoy, a CD of Buddhust teachings, and a broken heart. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 5th, 2006|01:22 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Sleepeh | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Bloodhound Gang - Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo | ] |
So I've got a new job working at BP on the toll-road. Went pretty decent. The diesel system is pretty janky, but otherwise the job is a cinch. I'm making what I was at the computer shop, and there are hints being thrown around of benefits like health insurance. Can't complain. |
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| I have a simple question... |
[Jan. 2nd, 2006|06:18 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Crazed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | *fap fap fap* | ] |
In an area with over 1500 potential sex partners, (as determined by demographic statistics, sorted by age, gender, and desirability) how can it be so fucking hard to get laid?! |
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