rocketeer

Time to poke my head back into this fetering pool of shit. I know no one would really give a shit about my absence, ...so fuck you......appologise to anyone who did miss me....what the fuck for?

I'm still the same old Rocket, nothing has changed, ...oh except...yes, fuck me, i live in townsville now. No more isa, I was beginning to formulate a plan of escape in which i could have crawled out of that hole, but no sooner was i on all fours beginning to crawl and i was kicked in the ass harder than i had previously believed possible..... I'll not get carried away or before i know it i will be leveling conspiracy theories against upper management and making allegations of an internal power struggle.....baaaaaaaaaaaa uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh ....sorry, i needed to catch my breath

so, do you like stuff?

or maybe things

me personally, i prefer stuff,

but i still can appreciate things

i have the most fun when i stuff things

So anyway, in a month i shall reach an age that can be represented by the number of meters in the local club pool i spent so much of my teenaged years in, ......

.....................25 fuck me, that's half 50

sometimes i question myself and begin to wonder....what the fuck have i done with my life.... I often end up coming to the conclusion that i have done what i wanted and i should be happy..... but hang on i'm not what the fuck ..... True it is however that i am happier in general lately, but with this increasing happiness comes an increasing feeling that i don't quite fit in when it comes to society in contempory australia, but for the first time in the rollercoaster which has made me sick so often i am neither pleased nor displeased by this fact, and i feel justified with a new found sense of joy by this newfound realisation .......baaaaaaaaaaaaaaa uuuuuuuuuuuuh .....fuck me i dribble shit

words written on this page, although occassionally aimed are, in general nothing more than meaningless pieces of dribble to most, it's not meant to be anything more, occassionally entertaining in some sort of self loathing, narcisistic expression of immense boredom and creativity both joined together as if existing as some sort of philosophical siames twin.

This page is, and forever has been a means of emptying my mind, therapy if you would for me and noone else.

Scary place my mind, although i think i have finally discovered it's agenda and now my mind, personality and body are working together to grow up and mature .... still remembering what it is like to have fun and carefree though is the only rule all 3 are bound by

I still inhale carcinogens, the most vile, filthy disgusting habit on the earth, so opposed to the entire tobacco industry i was not even 2 years ago, now i find myself relaxing and blowing smoke rings, pondering as i do so, am i a hipocrit (sp), am i contradicting my views of the past, have i not become the hated under the gaze and finger of my former self, the hater, I think so ... but shit happens, i don't hate myself, just think it's funny how someone so certain and sure of his own views and certain he would never change has ended far beyond the furtherist reaches of the most distorted demented imagined scenarios of years gone by.

I do not dwell on it, not for a second, but i do think it is quite sad the way in which i made decisions and acted based on such a desire to have attention from a girl, i don't blame her, nor do i blame myself, i know why i am the way i am in that respect, and in a strange, unexplainable type of emotion i can only interperate as happy, i feel a sense of pride, ....caught in a loop again, the feeling of pride makes me feel happy and level


Friday nights........

"take me drunk, I'm home" bliss and eso ....mad

Friday nights are, well...interesting, i'll leave it at that. Friday seems to end late saturday or early sundays a lot lately, ...... i spose you get that, i know for a fact that i could probably quite smoking if it weren't for activities undertaken on fingered friday.

on a possitive note, i'm not seeing mary jane every afternoon. I see her every now and then and we have a lot more fun together. I find my mind likes to hang out with me a lot more at work too, he never got on with mary that well and my eyes were so fucking pissed off from getting pink eye every afternoon, it is as if she is the pink eye fairy, i like the tooth fairy a lot better, i don't believe that she has been watching the news though, with inflation and what not the way it is these days,

.....i'm sorry miss totth-bitch, but i can't even buy an icecream with 1 lousy fucking dollar, i'm gonna go see if i can get a better price on the black market, or if i get desperate, on ebay .....

Ebay .... it amazes me how "family" the website is, one can't buy any thing a little on the adult side,except maybe the karma sutra, but seriously come on....who can do every single position in the book ...i doubt any mere mortal can....but anyway i'll finish the original point i was making, .....and that is

seriosuly, who the fuck wants to big on a stack of sticky mags or a second hand dvd that has all the good parts fucked up from using the freeze frame application to capture the "wow !!! // wholley shit // Oh my god parts" ...enough ............. i don't know ...just a thought, but then again i spose people do like sticky things on occasions and i spose in exactly the same manner some people like sticky suff, either way it appears that if it is sticky, then it is good.

Question:

What's brown and sticky ....

how fucking lame, but it still doesn't stop me from feeling so smart, so, so so, s-m-r-t

again i felt i stupid need to reinforce my fucked up point

in case one doesn't have any sense of the obvious or has been only existing by breating and nothing else, ...

it's a fucking stick

if i write what i intend to write i never write anything, by not knowing what i am going to write and keeping open the possibility of confusing myself and holding on to the belief that by writing utter bullshit i may stumble accross a hidden gem,

an intelegent thought could possibly come out for a look, out of the camouflage, lost in the smokey, disorted haze that all to frequently envelopes the vast empty plains of my waking consciousness....

there i stand as if expecting to find a thought, so big and magnificent that hanging it on the wall as a trophy is only the very least that could be done, ...it would be better remembered and discussed withing myself, refined and purified until i find i hold in my hand another piece of the puzzle.....

each piece of the puzzle equally as important, none shall be favoured where another shunned, the puzzle when complete will be a picture, image, a concept. I shall be a representation clearly visible to me and so complex, yet simple will it be that all i know about it is that i understand it, that thought will alone be enough for me complete and total internal happiness and it will radiate throughout me and i shall be happy. To try to understand it, rather than just accept it would see me embark on the mission to discover it yet again, and if i do embark on a mission again i shall discover that i was right in the first place and should have accepted it, for in finding myself a second time i would wast a lot of the years that should have been filled with satisfaction at finally being able to handle the concept of just what i am. Discovering that one has waisted a significant part of ones life would indeed cause a level of disappointment and sadness, this in itself is another reason as to why once the puzzle is completed one should not look to improve the way the pieces fit together, one should make an effort to ensure the edges don't become tattered and torn so that the temptation to rearrange the pieces in pursuit of a better solution never eventuates

what am i listening to, ......imago, from the butterfly effect ..... yeah i know, probably too sofdt, too mellow for the direction i should be shepherding my fuzzy mind into, i just hope that the sheep dog rounding it up doesn't bite it, it has a bad habit of disappearing and hiding if it is bitten, i can't blaim it though, if i were a little hazy mind and there was one of them big nasty sheep dogs trying to bite me, or worse, chomping on a part of me, i would hide too

my fingers are screaming at me, the fuckers recon they are over worked, maybe they are, but i'm gonna push them. They said they were going to join a union, but with a quite press of a button i had turned of the tv and the union hopes of the fingers were crushed.

i don't know why they are always complaining, they don't have it too bad, they could have it as bad as that freak , mexican they call it, because it comes from below the belt, noone knows it's name and noone cares to want to get to know it either, forever restrained and hidden away, often the other body parts wonder what the fuck it has done wrong to deserve htis solitary confinement. It's some sort of siamese twin according to the best accounts, it apparently only has one eye and it doubles as a mouth, occassionally when the little fingers are up to know good they like to explore and sometimes they like to bang on the cage and wake it up, they say its a big try hard, alway pumping itself up trying to be scary and bigger than really is. on occassion it does decide to play with the oter body parts and be nice, but for some reason it gets to excited and throws up everywhere. I often hear around campfires stories and tales that are never quite true, but contain a single truth that has story built around it, no one is really sure how the beast came to be captured, but it is obvious that there must have been an epic struggle for it still bears the marks and wounds of its capture, if you look cloely the are still bits of metal stuck in it's body,








fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck this

i'm going for a drive....


that's right kids, rocket's back