14 Hours of Sleep

It has come to my attention now that my body and mind are beginning to shut down. My mind wanders, it roams, it explores, and then gets caught in a bear trap and is thrown to the raptors.

I just got out of a 14 hour coma I shall call it, I didn't hear my phone ring, which is surprising for me, and I slept it completely straight through without waking up for anything.


That sleep has refreshed me for the time being and has made me feel somewhat better. Yet I still think, and ponder, and question. I question things like where I want to be? Who I want? What I want? Do I need to change who I am to have friends?

Simple questions like that, not even a 14 hour coma can kill. These must be questions everyone faces.....

Long time, No Blog

Dear Readers,

I haven't posted in a long time. I know, I've just been busy.


Here are a few updates for a reader who wants to know.


I failed my semester because I chose my job over school. I needed the money and couldn't do both at the same time. Thus, I chose the Waffle House and it's crazy still.

That boy I posted about a while ago, nothing happened, and I really don't care anymore. Just too busy.


My cook and I are BFF's AKA Best Friends Forever. She is as loonie as I am, and we are four tenths of a whole idiot.

Then there is another saga I must begin, I am unsure of alot of things right now. Who I am? What I do? and How much money I make for the amount of hours I work. I have determined three things

I am still gay despite confrontation and animosity from other people, as well as serious general assholeieness from the man I like.

Two, I love my job because I make great money

Three, I hate my job because of stupid people who can't even order a damn waffle.





Serious thoughts.

I am tired of people's crap. Why do I put up with it? Am I sensative? Am I uptight? Am I an asshole? Why do people not like me? Can I do better? Who are my friends? Are they real? Am I real? Am I crazy?

Serious thoughts and true words


Anyone care?

Waffle House Blues

I sit in the WH once again, and I haven't even worked for two days. I am just sitting here typing in my blog.

I'm not in a good mood, I am stressed. I have grinded out three poems today, so I find that an acomplishment, and I am happy with them too.

I have also learned three things today. Love is a crazy thing, Somebody has a crush on me, and three my step-dad is like an onion, he is good when cooked, but nasty raw.

To translate that onion thing, basically, when he dosen't feel well, he is a dick

Frenzy

So, I'm back

I'm gonna try to make this a fairly important post, and maybe you'll agree with me.

For the past few days, I've been trying to write a great deal of creative non-fiction. I've not only had multiple inspirations, as if by some divine intervention, but I am also in crunch time.

What is kind of awkward though, I only seem to be writing questions. My work is filled with philosophical questions that I just can't answer.

My frenzy of writing has put my mind into overdrive, questions, wondering, pondering, and just generally craziness

Failure

Breaking News


I am failing out of college.


This happens to me, the student who isn't going out and partying. The student who doesn't waste his time drinking, or smoking. This is happening to a student who works 50 Hours a week on the night shift.

I am trying to do the right thing, but have ended up losing?

Why do nice guys finish last?

Second Chances

I just wanted to put a few words down before I leave for the day.

I wish to thank Dr. Paul Bauer of Cecil College for his help, and for him giving me a second chance with philosophy.


That's all


Anyone wanna say what they are thankful for recently?

The Quest

My journey is one, not unlike yours is. I am longing to make friends, maybe a fan or two, but generally just alive to do my thing and help other people.

Well, why does the nice guy always get things thrown in his face?

It's a very short question, but very complicated. Is there any answer?


This is my quest, I want to follow my heart from now on, and I have been. I am trying to survive this game of life, and my latest quest is for that free man just out of reach. Maybe I'll find a power-up somewhere and things will get better

Hate Mail

It never seems to end. No celebrity am I, nor am I anything super special, but I am (un)fortunate enough to recieve hate mail. The list of people who hate me is apparently very long, although as far as I understand, I have done nothing to them wrong.

Letter # 1
My ex-best friend/partner sends me nasty emails every now and again, just being an ass, and making fun of me because I don't drink or smoke pot. I'm called a baby, weak, and a pussy. I call myself more of a man than you are Matthew. The vomit in my mouth and the tears in my eyes aren't enough of a quench for his never ending quest to hurt me.

Letter # 2
The girl with the burns. I shall call her that. Words like queerboy and Faggot make me feel so good after reading it. That was sarcasm. She was great friends with me and we had plans to just grow old together and be best friends. Yet I became busy with work and she turned on me and started with this shit.

Someone, anyone please give me some stories of your own? I'm so happy to hear I have four readers. I really am, I didn't expect anyone to read this blog. It's more of my online journal I guess. But thanks for all the comments so far, and feel free to communicate with me, give me some reccomendations for your blogs or whatever.

Drunk Chicks

This post will be fairly short. Just another snippet of insight into what my life is like.

I had to serve yet another table full of obnoxiously wasted 20 somethings, and this crowd was particularly mellow except for this one chick.

I asked her to sign her credit card receipt because she was holding up the line to the cash box and we were moderately busy at the time. In my nature, I asked her once nicely. The woman got an attitude with me, and said "don't rush me, I'll get it when I'm ready." After a few more nice words from me, explaining that she was holding up the line, she pulled the following.

"You know what you piece of shit? This is all you get." It was a dollar and change tip, and normally it wouldn't bother me, but this woman had me steaming already. So in my fairly kind nature I couldn't flip out on this girl and slit her throat like I wanted to, but rather I said, "It's fine, and I'm sorry you have to a bitch Ma'am!" Just the mere fact that I called a complete stranger a bitch made me feel powerful, stronger, and so much happier.

Is there a moment in your life that you just completely lost it on someone?

The Booger Mosaic

I have written an essay called, The Booger Mosaic. I don't really like it, but I find it powerful in that I ask myself, "where did my innocence go?"

Did I lose my childhood through some traumatic event? Was it just a natural cause? Did televised and internet media destroy the innocence of my youth?


I have no clue how to post a link to my essay so just let me know if your curious and I'll send you a copy.

Mass

I am not a catholic. But I have found myself fascinated as I watch the mass this morning in Washington D.C. Nobody in my family is catholic, and I most certainly have no plans to convert after watching this.

Catholicism in my opinion is a cult, and one of the worst kind. It is an epidemic, they frown upon non-catholics, are non welcoming to those who wish to come to their churches, and they are far too ritualistic for my liking. Anyone religion where you speak foreign languages to pray, and wave smoke lanterns, and pray to idols besides god is not right in my opinion.

My sister is a witch. She follows the religion of Wicca, and compared to this mass, her rituals are normal. There are no sacrifices, or blood letting. In Wicca, there are no chants, there is consumption of bread/wine, which in my opinion is a stupid ritual anyways.

But what I find most humerous, is that despite Catholics being the scratch that....

This news caster woman just explained that what just happened was the most powerful moment in mass. The pope babbled in his tongue, and then he hugged the men around him. This is supposed to symbolize The Last Supper, and it is just wrong. We should not re-enact the suffering of Jesus. He did his thing for a purpose. He gave his life to save mankind. Yes, it is this beautiful moment, but is it necessary?

Here is my view, prayer is prayer, anytime, anywhere, god will do his best to listen. Try to practice in good faith...........

Now the crowd is being handed tickets to go up and recieve the body by Pope Benedict XVI



This is just weird to me, but I cant look away



Someone talk to me!!!

Change of Plans

I would love to hear your opinions on this.

My day has been so messed up that I am ready to enter the 5th floor, not literally, but almost. First thing to re-work my plans: my step-dad stayed home today. That being so, I have to avoid home until he goes to sleep just so I don't have to deal with his crap.

Second major screw-ball was my creative writing class being cancelled. This meant I would have to fill an hour and a half of time. With literally no friends, no place to go, and $500 dollars, naturally I went shopping.

Three- I went shopping and didn't buy a single thing.

Has anyone had a day like this?

If so, drop me a comment and tell me about it.

Migraines and Publications

The title is self explanatory

I'm not writing right now because I have a migraine. I slept all day, and have been up all night, now my head hurts.


However, I have to have a piece sent off to be reviewed by this afternoon. It most likely will not happen.

Blogging is very relaxing. It makes me feel good, and it is slightly mortifying at the same time. I could be out there writing the next great american novel or whatever, yet I sit here, you don't want to know where I'm at, writing silly little things like this for the whole world to see. I am confessing some of my deepest darkest thoughts on here, not exactly, but I think you get the picture.

So I do believe that honesty is the best policy, and I am going to confess a few things to you now. I have changed my blog name because I think it is catchier, smarter, and I just overall like it better. The full truth is, because that is who I am. I am Joe Johnson, the lone wolf.

My first confession is that I recently dyed my hair, super ultra bleach blond. Had I known before I did it, that it would turn out this color, I wouldn't have done it. I just wanted it to be a bit lighter. But the result was absolutley amazing, and I am loving it 100% now.

Number Two, I posted on here a few weeks ago about the kid I am confused about. He gave me a hug the other day, as well as some other employees, but it was one step closer right?

Three: I love, yet completely hate my job. When crazy, and I mean literally crazy, as in 5th floor crazy, black ladies, as well as white men come into my Waffle House, Yes, I said my Waffle House because I practically run that place, the crazies just go off. Last night, this woman came in and said, "my mind aint right." The truth being she has just left Harford Memorial Hospital, of all things, on Dinner release???? What kind of fucked up hospital lets patients swearing to kill people out to go find dinner?

Four: I wish Andi luck with her cat

I'm hungry as I haven't eaten since early this morning, I will now go eat. Thanks guys............Joe

The lone wolf

This sucks

My creative writing teacher, as well as many authors, as well as my inner spirit have all told me the truth many times, yet I refuse to accept it.

I am alone in this world. There is nobody out there to hold my hand, there is nobody there to cry on their shoulder, and certainly nobody who will genuinly listen to me.

I feel good though, now at least I know I am different. I may be alone in the universe, but I am making it just fine. I hate being alone, nobody wants to be alone, and in all honesty, lonliness sucks.

Andi Cumbo who is this amazing teacher of mine told me a story about a defining moment in her life being just sitting in her closet with her cat, a carton of yogurt, and a can of cheese whiz.

My story is, I have nowhere to go except my job, I have no friends, yet I feel perfectly fine, albeit in a depressed, semi-suicidal kind of mood. Don't get me wrong, I will never stoop so low as to kill myself, but I think that perhaps people who do that feel this way. They reach a point where they feel nothing, and find pain as a way to feel something.

This is why I write. As some woman said, and this is paraphrased "I write because it's like I'm talking to someone." You guys who read my blog are someone to talk to."



In other news, I am alive, I have no friends, my sister is coming home, Benji the demon slaying Jesus man has left me alone, I met a wanderer, ran him out of the restaurant after 4 hours of his insistent conversation which was nice, but he kept falling asleep. I've been put-putting twice in the past two weeks, and I think I've completely given up on love.


This has been my daily rant, and thank you for reading.