tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26976715827565226192023-11-15T06:33:53.926-08:00Confessions of a BokononistNatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-91440734382109354722015-08-30T20:05:00.004-07:002015-08-30T20:06:38.436-07:00Meester BriteSyde<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sometimes I wish<br />
that the train relationships -<br />
the ones that have a perfect beginning when the doors open<br />
(Oh, I've read XYZ book too),<br />
enjoyable middle<br />
(Yas, let's definitely move to Boulder and start a coffee shop / framily),<br />
and no ending -<br />
didn't have to come to such sharp conclusions.<br />
*DOORS CLOSING*</div>
Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-39144252223808281662013-02-12T22:32:00.002-08:002013-02-13T06:46:03.486-08:00The Only Time I Feel Alone is When I'm Dating Somone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The only time I feel alone is when I'm dating someone because that's the only time someone is suppose to know me but doesn't know me.<br />
<br />
When I'm not dating someone, I am my person. Who, or whomever, I take the form of that night, or take the bed of even later that night, is me.<br />
And wrong or right, it is A Perfect Person because:<br />
there are no expectations,<br />
there are no previous experiences,<br />
there are no examples<br />
of me<br />
acting differently than I was in that night/<br />
in those first few dates.<br />
<i>So you can't say nuthin'</i><br />
<br />
Oh, and I don't have to answer bullshit questions like, "Are you bipolar?" Because no one asks that until they've been dating for like six months, or something, probably.<br />
<br />
<i>Perfect.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Now, I understand that you think straddling me will get my attention,<br />
but babe you gotta understand,<br />
it's not new thoughts that are distracting me, it's ancient memories.<br />
Someone has tried this move on me before-<br />
<i>some girl has literally done this exact same thing where she parks her hips on either side of my pelvis in the school girl hopes of provoking the exact same response <attention> from me </attention></i>-<br />
and even during that time before, I was thinking about the time before that, and the girl before that<br />
(when I wasn't paying attention).<br />
<br />
When I'm in a relationship I am not my own person. I am a person plus a person who is, and if not should be, a perfect person, as to better compliment the, henceforthknownas, Not A Perfect Person (myself).<br />
The Not A Perfect Person has a lot of plans that need to go off without a hitch.<br />
<i>Hitches Get Stitches.</i><br />
The Not A Perfect Person has a lot of sometimes contradictory, but very self-important thoughts and beliefs that need to not only be understood, realized, and agreed with, but also complimented, and encouraged.<br />
<i>Failure To Do So Get Stitches.</i><br />
The Note A Perfect Person just needs A Perfect Person to complete them without calling out his incompleteness.<br />
<i>Too Much To Ask? Get Stitches.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Just Perfect<i>.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
And in the great cycle that is a socio-paths life,<br />
I've now re-written prose that I wrote approximately a decade before,<br />
and maybe even earlier if I had a blog then.<br />
<br />
There is no escape from this cage that is my mind, THANK GOD.</div>
Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-74970184759319434302011-07-31T22:00:00.000-07:002011-07-31T22:00:02.999-07:00social notworking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">i guess i knew before i looked what i would find<br />
i mean....duh.<br />
who wouldn't post that?<br />
<br />
it's just another tally really in the large social network of life<br />
get a girlfriend<br />
change your Facebook status<br />
get engaged<br />
change your Facebook picture<br />
break up<br />
delete your account<br />
five months later<br />
return to Facebook like you're some kind of hero<br />
<br />
i'm not surprised by your engagement<br />
and i wasn't surprised by your relationship<br />
i WAS surprised that you still loved me<br />
but, to be fair, that was a year ago times two<br />
which just means that i will be REALLY surprised when i find out you still love me now<br />
...or at least that's how the dream goes<br />
whomp whomp whommmm<br />
<br />
i don't even know what i'm talking about<br />
<br />
i'm a slave to the nostalgia<br />
and comforted in old memories bring up old pain<br />
,apparently<br />
<br />
on monday mornings,<br />
while hoga teacher is twisting me in painful positions<br />
asking me to do things<br />
my body can't do<br />
i keep thinking<br />
why can't i do this in other areas of my life<br />
bend against what i've always held to be natural/safe<br />
maybe my unhappiness is spurred from my security<br />
<br />
unfortunately, i don't have enough unhappiness on most nights,<br />
to detect an origin<br />
it's in the morning, when X or Y or Z leaves<br />
and i sink back into my bed for a short 5 minutes<br />
in order to restore the routine of my wake up;<br />
alone;<br />
as it should be;<br />
for now<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-22697875963827138322011-07-04T22:03:00.000-07:002011-07-04T22:03:18.168-07:0007.05.11<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As if nothing has happened in three months time...<br />
<br />
If I lied and pretended that I loved playing the games, then could we stop playing the games?<br />
<br />
I'd like to at least get to the point where I make the bad decision. Need that arch...<br />
<br />
If I really practised what I've preached (proughtened) then would I actually start to believe it?<br />
<br />
If you're really that happy with him then why do I not think you are?<br />
<br />
More importantly...<br />
<br />
When will I stop doing "Go Frogs" in pictures?<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-14941454674928172482011-04-03T20:39:00.000-07:002011-04-03T20:39:05.067-07:0004/03/2011question, is this prostitution?<br />
<br />
to pay someone:<br />
to run her fingers through my hair-<br />
pulling my head closer to her<br />
so she can<br />
whisper in my ear, "how do you like it?'<br />
pushing me away<br />
caressing my scalp<br />
with such power<br />
passion<br />
tea-treeness.<br />
<br />
can you get an STD from a $3-with-haircut shampoo session?<br />
<br />
i'm not to the point that i'll do this when unnecessary, but damnit alexis, that was worth the three extra bucks.Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-17962471665716079682011-03-13T23:22:00.000-07:002011-03-13T23:22:10.739-07:0003.14.11the beard is my pride and my shame<br />
i will wear it proudly like the synecdoche it has become.Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-22824923225826309162011-03-01T17:46:00.000-08:002011-03-01T17:46:21.172-08:00White Rabbit<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f4cccc;">"wait..."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">"...yes?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ea9999;">"...because I like cats?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">"welllllllllllluh I mean that's just, like, one reason."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">"what's another reason?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">"..."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">"..."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">"you don't like dogs more than cats."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">"that's the same reason."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #9fc5e8;"><smile>"technically they're two reasons" </smile></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">"I hate you."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cfe2f3;">"Oh, now that's not very nice to say."</span>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-33940631787292297142011-02-27T13:27:00.001-08:002011-02-27T18:12:52.254-08:00i am a breathing time machine,i'll take you all for a ride.<br />
<br />
<br />
==============<br />
i was worried that i had forgotten this feeling,<br />
so i guess in a way i'm grateful that it happened.<br />
<br />
the problem is that i know without a shadow of a doubt<br />
what IT is. there's no second guessing, which sucks.<br />
<br />
IT is everything i've ever wanted<br />
IT is amazingly powerful<br />
IT is literally gut-wrenching<br />
IT is graceful<br />
IT is really funny<br />
IT is terribly terribly depressing<br />
IT is kinda cute<br />
IT can be debilitating<br />
IT is my dreams<br />
IT brings me to tears<br />
IT both softens and hardens my heart<br />
IT is the accumulation of my life<br />
IT has the potential to be the greatest thing i could have ever done<br />
IT is ART (like real, creative, produced art)<br />
<br />
and since IT cannot be mine, i only pray that i forget about it quicklyNatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-64201848101166779612011-02-03T21:16:00.000-08:002011-02-04T03:11:31.988-08:00020311UPDATE: blah blah blah<br />
---------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
currently wonder if i actually really wrote the post before this one.<br />
<br />
while i burn holes into the back of every blonde haired girl at church<br />
and friend every cute brunette suggested to me on facebook<br />
and talk to every asian waitress in dallas.<br />
<br />
oh, you want to be married?<br />
odd, because i'd say that opposite by your actions.<br />
<br />
"i think you're selfish."<br />
"i agree", but you have a dirty mouth and that's not very becoming of a lady.<br />
<br />
it's funny to see you make that look in that facebook video-<br />
because it's the same look you use to make me in other videos long ago.<br />
also, tell your effing boyfriend to quite checking me out on linkedin.<br />
<br />
please excuse me, everyone, for not calling to break up with her after the second date.<br />
it was my bad for calling her back after the first.<br />
<br />
to be a man<br />
be a man<br />
be a man<br />
be a man<br />
be a fucking man<br />
if that's not your goal, then what is?Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-12938394532474298242010-12-18T23:13:00.000-08:002010-12-18T23:13:01.285-08:0012.19.10can't decide which one proves my insanity more:<br />
<br />
1. last night i thought out my entire rebuttal to a fake conversation with an ex girlfriend<br />
<br />
2. literally 5 minutes ago i thought about the break up speech i'm going to give to a girl i haven't been on a first date with yet<br />
<br />
3. i understand the meaning and fullness of god's love yet i still run from itNatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-82811784509285685172010-12-18T12:04:00.000-08:002010-12-18T12:04:22.906-08:00Snippets of the review of "Nate! The Musical"<i>In the beginning of the third act, the main character decides that it might be worth having a girlfriend. Interestingly enough this realization does not come to the main character after a long monologue reflecting on his loneliness, or even an upbeat dance number filled with his best friends teasing him for being without a lady on New Year's Eve, rather Nate decides one morning after his annual Christmas party that he should probably consider dating someone with a good memory so she can recount to him the funny things that happen while he is drunk. The reviewer questions the legitimacy of this decision, and notes that it's just another artistic decision by the playwright that could make this show too unrealistic to be enjoyable...by anyone.</i>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-76522089340049275762010-12-11T09:21:00.000-08:002010-12-11T09:28:33.444-08:00time for a bunberrycherries<br />
bright red balls<br />
potentially juicy<br />
<br />
grapes<br />
deep purple marbles<br />
inevitably raisins<br />
<br />
real mustaches > fake mustaches<br />
<br />
every day i am taken aback by our culture's repressed sexual economy.<br />
it's definitely a free market, folks<br />
<br />
"i've been fooled by a pretty face in a facebook profile before"<br />
<br />
is everyone's greatest fear that one day someone will look them in the eye and say, "how did i ever love you?"<br />
<br />
...yeah, me neither, pweefs.<br />
<br />
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000<br />
UPDATE: forgot to apologize to the girl i randomly facebook chatted and talking about marriage with. also the girl who i told for 5 months that i didn't want a relationship and then last night made a joke about how no girl would ever want to date me.<br />
<br />
<br />
dear girl i went to happy hour with last night, will you excuse me while i ask out a girl on a date for tonight.<br />
<br />
dear girl i asked out on a date for tonight, will you excuse me while i bunburry with my friend to KC so i can see another girl who i've promised me heart to?<br />
<br />
dear girl i've promised my heart to in KC, will you excuse me for living in Dallas?<br />
<br />
dear girl at work i had a sex dream about and then had to be in a one on one meeting with the next morning. that was awksome!Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-68914257754510383172010-11-16T21:06:00.000-08:002010-11-16T21:06:16.390-08:0011.16.10My life is summed up in my cellular device:<br />
i care a cracked screen, slow as shit, iPhone 3G;<br />
2 years old, barely runs.<br />
But somehow I still find a way to hold it above people.<br />
People with Blackberrys, Androids,<br />
effing "feature phones".<br />
In reality, what is it that I'm holding out for?<br />
Why am I not Beyonce'ing that shit?<br />
"lemme lemme upgrade ya!"<br />
What do I think is worth hanging on to?<br />
And why do I think it's still better than what you have?<br />
Why am I convinced that I have it figured out.<br />
I don't. I don't. Lord knows I doesn't don't do not.<br />
<br />
If someone tells you you're the best at your job, doesn't that mean it's time to find a new job?<br />
If someone tells you they love you, what does that mean?<br />
Find a new lover that's slightly better?<br />
Oops.<br />
<br />
Why the fuck would anyone love me when they could love the thought of dating James Franco?!<br />
<br />
(let's pretend like they haven't seen his part in Pineapple Express)<br />
<br />
BUT SERIOUSLY.<br />
<br />
God.... good lord baby jesus?<br />
should i just fall into the trap of that awkward girl at church because it's what you want me to do?<br />
<br />
<br />
.......<br />
<br />
just burn it on her forehead maybe?<br />
<br />
........<br />
<br />
i am concussed.Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-60996964364606105952010-10-31T09:43:00.000-07:002010-10-31T11:57:20.222-07:00Public Grooming<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/b95oyhSd5ls?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/b95oyhSd5ls?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<br />
too excited to sleep?<br />
<br />
-----------------------<br />
<br />
didn't i see you at that dallas restaurant? pull up in the passenger side of the mercedes-benz coupe with the SMU bumper sticker?<br />
didn't we exchange glances and pleasant smiles as i walked by you to my table?<br />
didn't i catch you looking over at date when she got up to go to the rest room?<br />
didn't you sub-consciously lightly rub your 2 carat diamond ring?<br />
didn't i see you nonchalantly smile my way, again, when you were getting up to leave?<br />
didn't i watch you turn back, one more time, to look at our table before walking out the door? wanted one more peep before stepping into the mercedez-benz coupe with the SMU bumper sticker?<br />
<br />
are you jealous?<br />
are you longing for the days before the days you're in?<br />
are you wondering if you cashed your chips in too soon?<br />
are you wishing you hadn't cashed your chips in so soon?<br />
are you wanting to trade the coupe, the .0111111111 year old child, the showtime sunday nights--<br />
for something else?<br />
<br />
is it my 8 o'clock shadow?<br />
is it my messed up hair?<br />
is it my lack of ring on the left hand, and the white teeth underneath the slight grin?<br />
what is it that makes you think i'm better than your bland, cookie cutter, dark haired, fishing shirt, top-sider, banker?<br />
<br />
maybe you think i'm a musician-<br />
or maybe you think i'm an artist.<br />
or maybe you are just so incredibly bored with your life that you're reaching out for any and all fantasies that could liven up your daily day dreaming.<br />
<br />
(am i the fodder for the starving dreams of suburban housewives?<br />
[surely i'm not muscular enough])<br />
<br />
it is probably true that it's something in the water that makes people in TX marry so young.<br />
either that or it's just all the hot blondes that need to be making memories when they're still blonde and not platinum.<br />
but still it's got to be painful.<br />
there's no growing up.<br />
there's high school, one date party, and then marriage.<br />
<br />
well, why wait nate?<br />
what more do you want?<br />
<br />
.<br />
..<br />
...<br />
....<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">i want everything.</span>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-25836437239314441032010-10-17T20:43:00.001-07:002010-10-17T20:43:00.975-07:00a wolf in sheep's clothesa sheep in wolf's clothes.Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-35860088207242393962010-10-05T19:39:00.001-07:002010-10-05T19:39:36.631-07:0010.05.10your face.<br />
my god, your face.<br />
i can't even remember what it looks like...Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-38934999617843424432010-09-22T06:35:00.000-07:002010-09-22T06:35:50.682-07:0009.22.2010in the office early when september grabs my heart<br />
*grab*<br />
*yank*<br />
*pull*<br />
doubled over on my desk,<br />
clutching my chest<br />
<br />
OAHEJJKSDADnkjnjksdfnjksdfweLKJ<br />
<br />
!!!!<br />
<br />
!!!<br />
<br />
!!<br />
<br />
!<br />
<br />
september sinks its claws into me and starts pulling<br />
pulling me closer to october<br />
and eventually november<br />
damnit...november<br />
and the avett brothers pain my heart<br />
and iron and wine is like a cigarette burn on freshly healed skin<br />
does not feel good<br />
nostalgia<br />
nostalgia<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">nostalgia</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">nostalgia</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">so </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">SO</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">nosty</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">nothing in particular</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">and not someone in particular</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">just the feeling of having feelings</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">painful</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">emotionalism.</div>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-56707442768932533422010-09-17T07:35:00.000-07:002010-09-17T07:35:09.527-07:0009.17.10 09:23AM - Craig's List - Dallas<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">23 yr old M seeking vindication via baby</span><br />
<br />
In an effort to prove wrong the multiple women who have come in my life optimistic for relationship, and then exited quickly, proclaiming, "There's no hope for you!"; I've decided to have a child.<br />
<br />
A child would be the perfect vehicle for displaying my high level of responsibility, value of human life and emotion, and my -quote-unquote- "feelings" (which I do have, thank you!).<br />
<br />
Therefore, any willing hosts should apply by leaving a comment after this post.<br />
<br />
Thank you.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Please only serious inquiries. I hold full discretion to refuse services of applicants I deem not suitable. By volunteering for this opportunity, you are obligated to accept my sperm by act of my choosing. I am also in no way liable for your health, feelings, or desire for relationship during the terms of our agreement. Actually, there will be no relationship, and should you, at any time, happen to be in close proximity with me, my child, and a potential romantic interest, you are to act like we don't know each other. In fact, it might be best if we don't know each other. Offer not valid in New Mexico.</span>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-78324978973722796622010-08-26T17:31:00.000-07:002010-08-26T17:31:13.154-07:0008.26.10<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;">It's really difficult to lose someone from your life. To go to bed and say your prayers, and know that one of those people is no longer on earth. No longer walking around their house, doing chores and stuff. It's really difficult to keep living your life in Dallas when you think about what if someone else I love could maybe one day soon not be walking around their house doing chores and stuff? some could say it could be very difficult. but i guess that's what separates the people that excel at life and the people that fail at life. of course, if failing at life means more time with those i love, then consider me a loser. a big old loser.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;">Now so older stuff I've been meaning to post. Older but not wiser. Probably just as weird and self-conscious though!!!</span></span><div><b><br />
</b></div><div><b>=================================</b></div><div><b>This is my idea for my Match.com profile</b></div><div><br />
</div><div>I would like to be in a relationship. A really serious one. I am fantastic with commitment. Just A plus plus plus. Basically, I don't even care who the girl is, I care more about the relationship! So if you wanna get married, step right up! No experience necessary. You don't have to do anything! Except like be perfect, actually. I mean, come to think of it, I would prefer to just date my soul mate and not waste my time on these dates. Also I don't want to talk to you about how much money I make. Or tell you about my dad's job. I'd rather talk about dreams. And music. And maybe my ex-girlfriend. Yes, must be open to talking about mothers and ex-girlfriends. Mainly mothers though. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Call me!</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><b>Now this poem sums up my thoughts about being young and single in the workplace and having to work with slightly older (25-30?), married, attractive, and flirtatious professional females. I like to think that it illustrates the point that although secretaries complain that they're treated like a piece of meat- young men in the workplace can sometimes feel like giggalos.</b></div><div><br />
</div>We met at a bar,<div>of course a bar,</div><div>but for work, right?;</div><div>still a bar.</div><div>You had straight teeth.</div><div>Your hair was blonde, </div><div>color of Kryptonite,</div><div>so I told myself it was suppose to be brown.</div><div>I think it would probably look better brown.</div><div>Have you thought of that?</div><div>Of dying your hair brown?</div><div>I mean,</div><div>you do have big brown eyes.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Regardless of your hair,</div><div>I did appreciate the conversation,</div><div>the jokes,</div><div>the flirtatious elbow touches,</div><div>the dreams of us running away together.</div><div>The thought that maybe you could put me under some spell that would allow me to forget my current curse. Until one day I show up at your door and I find you with your bags packed and you're saying some crazy stuff like "I'm leaving for Chicago, I told you three months a go I was moving and what the hell nate do you never listen when I talk to you?!!" </div><div>and I'm all like, "SAYYYYYYY WHAT?"</div><div><br />
</div><div>However....</div><div>I did not appreciate the ring on your finger.</div><div>That evil piece of carbon,</div><div>clinging so tightly to your left hand ring finger,</div><div>wrapped by the devil's hands himself,</div><div>so tight that as you grow fatter (probably from eating all those M&Ms that they gave us to snack on during the brain storm session. Don't act like I didn't see you eat all those!) it will squeeze all the blood to the top of the digit</div><div>until the very tip of your finger is a bright red cherry tomato about to pop all over my shirt and OH MY GOD, YOU'RE BLEEDING ON MY SHIRT! THIS IS FROM BROOKS BROTHERS AND IT WAS NOT ON SALE! AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO WASH THIS WITH- COLD WATER? X, SOMEBODY GET ME AN ICE CUBE! UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH</div><div>(see also: my heart)</div><div><br />
</div><div>So you're married.</div><div>So what.</div><div>We can network.</div><div>We can talk about social media.</div><div>Great.</div><div>Awesome.</div><div>I'm going to go stick my head in the sink and water-board myself.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Oh you're going to email me your info?</div><div>FAN-TASTIC!</div><div><br />
</div><div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><div><b>This is my idea for a poem about still possibly being in love with an ex girlfriend who is in love with someone else, but you both still want to be friends because you both still really care for the other one but it's just awkward and confusing and messy, and phone calls never really end right for either party, and you don't know what to do because like I already said there's a chance that there are still feelings there, but I mean, I don't know it could just be remains of nothing and I don't want it to stop us from being friends, right?</b></div><div><b><br />
</b></div><div>Well this effing sucks.</div></div><div><br />
</div></div>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-67102929396431280102010-08-18T05:20:00.000-07:002010-08-18T05:20:27.058-07:00750 words?Is this what it's come to? A huge tribunal council where I must apologize to any girl I ever hit on, led on, or made fall in love with me?? This kind of task could only be accomplished by the most narcissistic of aspiring writers. of narcissistic aspiring writers with only 30minutes before they leave for work but with some unexpected desire to actually write something again. anything again.<br />
<br />
so i apologize, for writing you that note in seventh grade. and i'm sorry to your parents for having to deal with you after. but i think we're even because i think you're married.<br />
<br />
and i'm sorry for telling you i'd still talk to you when i moved to oklahoma, but c'mon.<br />
<br />
i'm sorry for making you fall in love with me in hafer park. and in fort worth, texas. and college station, and houston, and kansas city, and maybe new york? but not dallas. and i'm sorry for a lot of things but mainly for the fact that i let you get in the relationship you're in now. and i'm not sorry for saying that.<br />
<br />
i'm sorry for causing you to believe that i wanted anything more than a distraction from apologizing.<br />
<br />
i'm sorry for whatever i told you at The Moon that night. honestly, i can't for the life of me remember what i said.<br />
<br />
i'm sorry for that night i made you fall in love with me in austin. you were a good dancer, but why did you text me the next day? (x2)<br />
<br />
i'm sorry for making you fall in love with me when i visited (charleston / chicago).<br />
<br />
all apologies for making you fall in love with me in my cubical. this one is not going to be fun to deal with i can already tell.<br />
<br />
most importantly, i'm sorry to YOU for believing that this life is better than pursuing You first before finding her. I've started atleast. I mean, it's been a good 3 months, right? Slow, lonely, sad, but good?<br />
<br />
this wasn't nearly funny enoughNatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-57017786521179524572010-08-12T21:20:00.001-07:002010-08-12T21:20:44.784-07:00Coming soon6:15pm traffic in Arlington, TX. What a time to get that phone call.Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-90322599137457255422010-08-10T07:40:00.000-07:002010-08-10T07:40:11.784-07:00August 10th ARE YOU KIDDING ME?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Listening to the Avett Bros in August and it seriously feels like November.<br />
<br />
I’m not kidding. I feel like I should be wearing a North Face pull over over a TCU tshirt right now. It should be 50 degrees. Brown leaves on the ground.<br />
<br />
It’s freakin’ 105 outside right now.<br />
<br />
And I’m still in love with a girl that’s been in love with some one else for TWO YEARS now. TWO FUCKING YEARS<br />
<br />
BAGGAGEBAGGAGEBAGGAGEBAGGAGEBAGGAGEBAGGAGEEGAGGABEGAGGABEGAGGABEGAGGAB<br />
<br />
I am a breathing time machine.<br />
<br />
I’ll take you all for a ride.<br />
<br />
This time don’t make me leave.</span></span> <!--EndFragment--> </span></span>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-66364942301616718512010-05-06T06:15:00.001-07:002010-05-06T09:28:08.598-07:008:13 AM (right blog this time...oops)<div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
In my experience</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It’s true that</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The best laid plans</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Of mice and men oft go awry.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But it’s the best laid webs</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Of spider-like ex girlfriends,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That always go exactly as they planned.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The trap was set with a challenge:</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">“So you really think we can just be friends?”</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And it was sprung with my response:</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Absolutely.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then the hunt was on.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To find holes in my logic.,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To make me admit I still had feelings,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To justify your reasoning for not letting yourself think about me.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And with every leading response from you,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> I kept getting tangled more.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Every, “who knows who or when I will get married…”</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And every “I must be crazy, but I still feel…”</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And even the implicit way you breath in frustration on the phone,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Transported me back to a day</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">When it was okay to:</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Think,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To fight,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To feel.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">(Like I was back in Waco, TX and you were saying, “Why do I have a boyfriend?” and kissing me on the mouth before you would let me leave)</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Just like that I’m stuck.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Tangled in my own responses,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My emotions-</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That seemed okay to vent at the time;</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That seemed natural,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That you didn’t disagree with so harshly</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But in actuality,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The ring has already been picked out.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The dates been set.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You’ve made your mind up,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But that doesn’t matter.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">All that matters is that I’m now your prey…</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">“See, see, SEE?”</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">“I knew I was right!”</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">“This is why we can’t see each other-</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">because <b><i><u>you</u></i></b> still have feelings!”</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Yeah…it’s only <b><i><u>me</u></i></b> who has the feelings.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That’s fine.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I’ll accept the consequence.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Devour me.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Please.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I’d rather die following my heart,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Than die pretending I’m something I’m not.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I might miss some time in the game,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But I’m not lying to myself.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I’m not tangled in my own web</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Of “too comfortable”s</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Of “what will people think”s</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Or even “money”s.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Break out.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Do it.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Besides,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I have a beard now.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Things will be different.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div>Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-58997704108332875552010-04-22T21:45:00.000-07:002010-04-22T21:45:22.137-07:0004/22/10"Honestly...like honestly, Nate....do you think I'm dating down?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">VOMIT</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"><br />
</span><br />
And you and everyone else wonders why I'm single.<br />
<br />
"Seriously how are you single in Dallas? I feel like girls should be fighting for you."<br />
<br />
Well they're not fighting but that doesn't mean that people aren't getting hurt.<br />
<br />
In my experience, it doesn't get any better. I know that it can, and I believe that it will- but right now, I'm not going to exert myself to hurt myself- if you know what I'm saying.<br />
<br />
Also, I'm not going to settle for chicks who say things like that....woof (or wolf - i say them the same)<br />
<br />
===============<br />
<br />
Keys to being successful at your job:<br />
<br />
smile in the hallway<br />
drive a nicer car than you can afford<br />
be funny (present a funny presentation about a mildly controversial website)<br />
empathize with the programmers<br />
act like you're interested in nerdy things<br />
flirt with the older single girls<br />
(but never too much)<br />
dress well<br />
be on time (still working on this)<br />
never let them know that you don't know what you're doing<br />
BAM!<br />
first million in the bank<br />
<br />
<br />
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+<br />
<br />
i see right through you, you know.<br />
which, actually, i think you might like;<br />
your guard has always been rather high.<br />
unfortunately,<br />
for both of us,<br />
i don't play those games anymore.<br />
so call me when it's less messy.<br />
or maybe i'll call you when i've realized i don't care that much about the clean up.<br />
<br />
----------------------------------<br />
<br />
but seriously, since when has, "I can't believe you're still single in Dallas" been a compliment??Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2697671582756522619.post-75465912849960887192010-04-15T20:51:00.000-07:002010-04-15T20:51:33.632-07:0004.15.10There's only one person I want to read this thing anymore and she is the last person I want to read this thing anymore.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
Coming home on a Thursday night,<br />
my breath has the hint of hops-<br />
like driving down I-35 right outside of Fort Worth on a Friday afternoon.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
Will I ever be as invested in a relationship again? Will I ever want to try that hard again- I mean, when I was actively trying (you know, the times when you weren't...at all)- if I know there's a chance I can fail?<br />
<br />
I will never forget the look on the 5th-girl-who-tried-to-date-me's face.<br />
"So basically that's why we can't date."<br />
"Because we might break up in 5 years?"<br />
"Well, there's a lot more to it then that....but yeah, basically."<br />
*look on the 5th-girl-who-tried-to-date-me's face*<br />
"I'll never forget that face"<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
Is my resentment obvious to others?<br />
Can they tell when I come in to a meeting late what I'm thinking?<br />
<br />
"Oh hey guys, sorry I'm late."<br />
"Aww don't worry about it, Nate. I can tell by that dumb look on your face you were just looking at your ex-girlfriend's twitter again."<br />
"Haha ummm I don't know what you're talking about..."<br />
"Yeah, don't worry about it, we've all been there."<br />
"Shit."<br />
<br />
Is that why I'm so good at looking up people on Facebook? Please don't tell me your name when I meet you. It will make it so much better for both of us. If I know your name I can facebook you. If I can facebook you I can see your political affiliation, your quotes, your music, etc. If I know all that then you're a goner. Never tell me your name. Just keep smiling at me in the hall so I can store you in some kind of file where I never think of you that much that I want to date you, but enough that I don't think I'm terrifying to look at when passed in the hall.<br />
<br />
===+===+===<br />
<br />
The only thing that being married to someone's work got them was gobs and gobs of money.<br />
<br />
-----------------Natehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10311104797903983513noreply@blogger.com0