so I'm sorry i've not blogged recently not that anyone is reading this any way. I'm married now one of my good friends is having a child soon. Craziness. My wife is taking her clothes off for money again. She is upset she didn't get to make friends w/ my pregnant friend before the child raising responsibilities are due to set in. Besides paying off debts my life seems to be on the up and up (knock on wood). I need to get back to school, pay attention to the future. Been slackin on my artwork... aside from scanning old stuff and photoshopping it. I still have a few paintings to finish. I'll be back...

whaaaaaaaaa???

weeeeeeeee, fun fun fun-time today!!!!
can't even explain
what has transpired
to much writing

happy birthday to me! yay!

so i got shit on by life this month: girl left, gramma died, car crapped out,
S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder)

i'm writing more often whoo hoo look @ me. just kidding sorry guys... I feel like such a loser my girlie and I are on a "break" (I also still don't have work) but I thought this was the one for me but I know she doesn't think so. It's my fault too not only did I drunkenly suggest the "break" (me smacking myself in the head) but I apparentely have treated her like an object. I don't see it but hell there's a lot of things I don't catch. She thinks I value my friends more than her for one. My astrology must've said "fuck you!" this week.

so i quit my job a bit ago. I just couldn't take it anymore. I know I'm not the best employee, but shit. I had to work graveyard shifts and they expect me to be able to come to a meeting at noon right in the middle of the "time in which I may have slept." That and being late once were the two occaisions I was written up. Other people have done the same and no action has been taken. There was this bitch (no really she's a bitch) who was hired after myself and she acted like she is one of my supervisors(I only had one) just because she had previous hotel experience. The other thing is the guy who trained me... well to quote my former supervisor "he's always late" and, he never has been written up. Massive favoritism. I also did not get forty hours unless I was called in. Sorry I'll write more soon, but if anybody's got any good leads hit me up!!!

i read an entire article about cheese! in the paper today. I really do love cheese!

So I now know just about everyone I know who's interested is reading this. I've taken a break. I am feeling again. It makes me aprehensive. I can't and want have & I want and can't have. exposed now I feel, too much unearthed at once.

so yeah i havent blogd in a while Been busy, workin and such... movin out soon again; a house; with sean. It's a nice house though. And i will help keep it so. $300+utilities/month. sides that nothin really new fur me

i feel like i'm in high school again.

In that case, I'd say that Theorism exists in theory but not in practice. :P

Does Theorisism exist? Theorisism as in: life based on the idea that everything is a theory and the data is the sum of all of our senses throughout life; The idea that the future will be based on occurrences in the past is pseudo A.I. in retrospect. Anyway, to quote myself: "It's a generalization of all... under an anylitical pretense."

UPDATE:Makes me sound like a stoner... :P

why is it (I've thought this many times) that news only reports people doing stupid things or people just generally fucking up? I guess it's just anomalies in the norm, but I rarely see any "news" that is positive. It's not anything but our stage in our own depraved social evolution. I'm out again.
-erok

Sorry, posting me no good at; often lazy is the way I am. Posting is the life that is not mine. Myself fell upon quote I like, Pat reminds me: "Because they're stupid... that's why everyone does everything!" -Homer Simpson. Picturetubes interacted with myself are more than persons. Brother not older of mine in custody of state is. Stupid, tha's why. like a dream or cg cinematic life is to me when I observe. "what's with airline food?"-pat "What's with hospital food?"-Krusty the Clown. Cheeselog buttocks! Oh yeah, "fuck" is a noun sumtymes. Out now am I.

-erok

So I haven't blogged in a while. I've been thinking about this girl--the one I mentioned earlier. I've stepped up from the usual no effort to what seems to me to be more than enough. Maybe she's not doing her part for some reason or another, or perhaps my idea of aggressive isn't up to par. I call, she usually doesn't answer or doesn't return my voicemails but is still extra nice and flirtatious at work. Although I did mention an ex-girlfriend who went to the same highschool (oh yeah she's still in highschool) and apparently she recognized the name because she asked when I had graduated. I hope that didn't make me seem too old for her. I want to do my best to arrange our meeting, but her hesitance makes me wonder if she's even interested. I want to come of as semi-aggressive but not like a stalker. I guess I haven't really talked to her straightforward about it but all the signs (that she's interested) are there. I smell onion bagels and want one.

This is a little something I wrote while I was bored at work. It stemmed from a drawing I sketched out.

Fujin was a hunter by birth but a warrior by necessity. The tribe he associated with consisted of around forty to fifty men, women, and children at any one time. A large tribe in comparison to the average but they still maintained a commonality that could only be found in a family. He sipped his tea, momentarily revealing a hardened cold face beneath his well worn sand mask (the traditional headwear of the felas people). This empty shell of a man seemed to barely support the plethora of emotion hidden deep inside his irridescent eyes. Their tribe had always managed to pull through when things got their worst, but the past few days, the likes of which he had never seen, were wrought with an unnerving anxiety, bouts of fear and rage, and in the end a sense of clarity and one-ness, the kind that would take their wisest sage a lifetime to achieve.

As a man in a patriarchal tribe Fujin had been trained to use the spear-shot, a two handed spear weapon with a knuckle-guarded handle at one end concealing a trigger. The spear-shot had been a traditional weapon for the felas tribe since the technology had been available. All of these had elaborate shimmering blades (unique to each user) engraved with scenes of monumental past victories. Slightly behind the kora or the main stabbing blade on each spear-shot was located a chamber connected to a channel that ran nearly a quarter of the way down its solid staff-like handle, which when activated by the aforementioned trigger would send pulsing concusive blasts tumbling out along the underside of the kora into its intended target.

It was a practical design built for its purpose. Felas hunting parties pursued massive crustacian-like creatures, slightly resembling trilobites, that roamed the unsettled dunes. Since these creatures, folt as they were called by the felas, had a hardened shell-like exoskeleton the kora was used to initially puncture this living armor and the blasts tore apart the gooey innards. The folt were a staple food of the felas tribe and so the methods employed were highly specialized, even when fighting these fierce beasts the felas hadn't lost a man in decades.

Fujin had developed by himself into one of the strongest and most fierce hunters for his age. When the group rallied, a young Fujin regularly found himself at the front if not leading the pack- letting his youthful eagerness shine through. But now that sense of youth had left him. Although still leading, he found himself more cautious and reserved, precise and deliberate with every movement. A seasoned pro.

The sun rose just like any other day. Beams of light sliced through clouds of sand illuminating them, then passed into the small windows in the mud shelters of the felas signaling the begining of a new day. At hearing the rustling of moving bodies Fujin rolled over as if he didn't acknowledge the new days arrival. Today would be a day he would not soon forget. He slowly tilted his head, then neck, and finally torso. Reaching for a cup of water nearby he moved with a sort of athletic soreness. Fujin in his undergarments rose toward the door with sleepy uncoordinated steps.

One hand holding a cup, the other bracing him in the doorway Fujin peered around the tapestry that had covered the entry. The desert was starting to cool and was once again ripe for the picking. A dusty wisp spiraled up and met his face. Fujin twitched as if the warm breeze had told him a secret. If the desert could've told him what awaited him this fateful day it would have. Fujin idled over to a simple wooden table where his clothes and armor sat and looked over them with tired eyes.

Emerging from his igloo shaped dwelling, Fujin wore nearly white garb beneath a breastplate forged from folt shell inlayed with bits of metal. Descending from the shoulder plates swooped a long cape in the same hue as the desert itself. His headwear consisted of a long sash with a concave oval of tough leather and a jeweled clasp at one end. This was not so much for protection in battle but to keep sand and sun from his eyes. The clasp bore a dark murky gemstone, Fujin's family seal surrounding it.

Copyright 2003 Eric Wellman

These are not the final stages at all but I needed to post and feedback is always appreciated. It may evolve into something... it may not. Oh yeah don't steal my ideas please.

i need to focus i am a jack of all trades, but an ace at none. I wanna make a mix tape. I have about ten lbs. of new vinyl some of which I haven't heard yet. I love music and need to prove it to myself. dedication is at an all time low

This is my life there are many others like it but this one is mine... yesterday I went to the mall and hit up the clearance rack for some new threads. I decided to wear them to a party/barbeque. I think subconsiously I see clean clothes as a blank canvas. I got home safe, but when I woke and went to work, while changing I noticed blood on my new shirt. Now grass stains I might expect, seeing that I was wrestled to the ground for no apparent reason. I don't usually "black out" I remember paul was running around nekked, and playing a game of twister (both completely seperate incidents mind you) but I don't have any clue where that blood came from. Upon further examination I determined I had no new wounds so the blood wasn't mine. It doesn't really bother me except that I've heard blood stains are difficult to remove and I wanna look sharp when I go out with that girl. That's why I got the clothes in the first place. Oh well, I guess it coulda turned out worse. I got moderately drunk and to my knowledge did not make an ass of myself so can't really complain. Oh yeah!

So like everything else in my life I've been slacking on my blog. So nothing new really. let's see, I talked to a girl at my work to see if she could hook me up with her friend(a real cutie). I called her and she told me that her friend wasn't seeing anyone and told me to call her back the next day. I did with no results, I got her voicemail. So I was little disappointed being that I wanted to do something on one of my days off. Oh well. Talked to her today on her way to lunch she said she had received the message but was drunk and didn't realize whether it was a dream or not. funny stuff. Anyway I think this might be what I need to mix things up a bit. Although I'm kinda hesitant because I've never dated anyone younger than myself and from what I know she's a good bit younger than me. I'll deal. I'm tired again, slightly hungover and still have that nauseated after drinking all night feeling. Trying to satiate myself with ice water and cigarettes knowing full well that if I tried to eat I probably couldn't stomach it. So I don't want to set my hopes too high in this situation (it's not that I think she's outta my league) but this whole interacting with the females is titillating (pun intended). Been playing a lot of guitar lately spawned mostly by my intense boredom at work. I can't complain though getting $7.20 an hr. to read my book and play guitar ain't bad. A guy walking by just compared me to Elvis, I think.