Cocksocker

So Frank and I have to write a comic. Not entirely sure what it is going to be about... probably just random bullshit. And it might even be an online comic. That'd be fun. It's already in the works on my end.

Anyway, the characters for mine, as opposed to Berflocko, are:

Jumbolieya. Haven't decided if he's a fish or a frog. But either way, he has magical powers. He might be a dif. creature all together. He might even be somewhat human. Yes, I think so. I think he is human. And the way you summon him is by screaming JUMBOLIEYA, and he appears. He has a friend:

Ubuntu. (yes, I stole the name...) Is a frog and his magical powers lie in his wig. e looks like gandalf because of his magical white wig. That's what he does. He kind of reads fortunes.

Ubuntu & Jumbolieya are friends, and they go around together helping people.

But they have to help, over and over again, this caracter called Hard-On, (or something equal to that) who aways asks why he smells like Broccoli. One day, he discovers his mom's corpse, in the kitchen, surrounded by Broccoli, and he has an epiphiny.

In addition to Hard-On, we have Cocksocker... not the cocksocker you're thinking of who runs around punching people in the balls, but the midget who runs around, breaking into peoples houses at nights, with his lock picking set and a hot glue gun, gluing socks on people's dicks.

randomness

k, so we're talking about sex, and being aggressive... Frank & I are.

Frank: johnny depp isn't safe
Frank: Billy apparently is
Frank: Billy is talked to....johnny is clubbed and raped in the street like an animal
Frank: and I don't think there would be an indecent exposure suit.
Frank: cause think about... you're young enough that the men watching prolly wouldn't bitch and almost every woman at least likes johnny

Joey, and I are talking about black people.

Joey: do you know any black folk?
squishedlizard: black folk? lmao. Where are we? South Carolina?
Joey: lol not yet
squishedlizard: hahaha
Joey: but do you know any?
squishedlizard: yeah.
Joey: do they all have low riders?
squishedlizard: lol no
Joey: ok
Joey: i love me some good respectable black folk

Another sex conversation:

x: blue balls is a myth in my book
squishedlizard: huh.
squishedlizard: I've known guys w/ blue balls.
x: how do you mean? the color?
squishedlizard: well, yes...that too.
squishedlizard: But not what I was talking about.

---

I'm logged into a computer right now, and bored, so I typed "lol"

liz@hidden:~$ lol
-bash: lol: command not found

Tell me if you get the humor.

Chicago Based Socrates

I thought I was out of work, as they decided to move my office to a building which I can't get to. My boss was upset, as he would be losing his entire night crew over this decision. My boss is wonderful. I like what I do, and I like the people I work with, and I have a good boss. That's really important to me, and based on that alone, I don't want to have to leave this job. In a meeting today, though, it was decided that I get to stay here until I get someone trained, so that's awesome. That gives me like 3 more weeks.

I have a website contract going right now, which will just be awesome once it gets more off the ground. I spent hours last night fighting with the javascript navigation bar I created for it. But it's working out very well. I'm happy with this. I am making a lot of progress, right now... this is a way good thing. Much w/ the goodness. College is approaching, I hope. I've been wanting to go back, but in light of the job situation, or lack thereof, I may not have daytime hours free anymore. If nothing else, I have to get my damn EMS Certification. Officially, today, 3 hours ago, I became uncertified.

I was reading something earlier and it said, "said the Spokesman for Chicago based Socrates" and I just thought to myself, "So THAT'S where the fucker's hanging out...sneaky bastard!"

fermaylabush: and horrible taste in music till 22
fermaylabush: I just have to kill three more years and then maybe I'll be able to listen to your music
fermaylabush: either you'll mature enough to grasp what is good, or I'll go deaf

Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 2

I have been battling depression my whole life, but when I felt like it was my job to make this one person happy, I instantly started spiraling towards this very dark place, where it was suddenly beyond depression. It was intentionally self-destructive, and opiate in origin. I had no clue how to deal with the misery I mentioned in part 1. I felt like the scum of the fucking earth because I couldn't make him happy. I felt like I couldn't be good at anything.

They don't teach you in school that narcotics are not only easy to find, but a wonderful way to forget about stress, and depression, and that pesky relationship you're sure is going to fail. You know the one, of course... we all have them at some point or another. We'd give up everything, even our soul, just to make this work... just for a bit of success.

When that time didn't come for me...when success did not grace my doorway with it's presence, I didn't give up on it. Not on him. Or on me, for that matter. I took all my stress, all my anger, my depression, everything, and I imploded with it. I turned inward. And I had a breakdown, to be perfectly honest about the matter. I *had* to make it work. I had to be successful. If I could make it work, I could conquor the fucking world.

Or that's what I thought.

They don't teach you emotions, or morals when you're in college. They don't teach you how to handle your own built up stress. I thought I had it figured out, the secret to life. Be a good person, be open, receptive, gentle, caring, compassionate, but with boundries, and while life itself may not go as planned, relationships would at least be easy. I thought this was a good plan. And it worked, for the most part. In fact, success did not come at all. I couldn't save the relationship. I couldn't make it work. I couldn't save him, and I couldn't save myself. I suppose that's my first mistake, assuming I needed to be saved.

When I couldn't make it work...and after I imploded, I lashed out, at people around me, but especially myself. I took all this internal rage, and depression, and my feelings of failure, and I turned them against myself in the form of drugs, and razor blades.

Sure, everybody knows about the typical drugs: coke, heroin, pot, acid, meth, x, oxycodone, morphine, etc etc...most people expect to do those at some point in their life. And sure, they're fun, but nobody teaches you in school about opiates. Like Hydrocodone. I slipped. I wavered. I was gone. Self destructive, and I thought I was past the point of no return. I felt as though the doors that had been opened to me, and the things that I had learned about who I am, and who I'm going to be, didn't matter, because plain and simple: I couldn't survive.

I stumbled across hydrocodone, and it suddenly got better. I could deal. I could survive. I was not exactly myself, so to speak, but a calmer, more lathargic, rational, version of myself who could keep an even temper, because, plain and simple, I was practically sedated. Being sedated was nice. I didn't have to deal. I could just...be. I could be, and I could be left alone, and I could be uninterupted. Hydrocodone is how I found my calm in the eye of the storm.

Hydrocodone is a narcotic in origin, in addition to being an opiate. 5mg of hydrocodone is equivalent to 30 mg of codeine, and 15mg (1/4g) is equilivent to 10mg of morphine. Because it is prescription in nature, easy to find, and much cheaper than coke ($2-$4 a pill, and a pill will provide you with 4 lines, when you only really need 1-2 lines to get tanked), it quickly became my drug of choice. It's highly addictive. I warn you.

It creates a euphoria - much like opium and heroin - the euphoria is calm, and provides a smooth wave of serenity. The easiest way to get it into your system is to slice, and grind the pill (razor blade & state ID card) and then snort it, in a line, as if you were doing coke. The effect is almost instant, and overwhelming. To make the rush even greater, put it in a spoon, add some water, and heat it with a lighter until it steams, and then pop 2 advil. What they don't teach you is that this is a crucial event in your life. They don't teach you that you needed to do opiates; that you needed to become self destructive in order to become stronger than you were before.

It was a dark time in my life, I know this. It was dumb; I know this too. It was scary, and unreasonable. I'm not making excuses.

But I do accept it. I do appreciate what was done. I needed this knowledge, and I needed to know, beyond a doubt, that I had the strength to cope on my own.

Your whole life is about discovering who you already are, or at least that's what they say. Education can be a beautiful thing, but they don't teach you this in school. They don't teach you this at the State University of New York - School of engineering and technology.

Plato says there are some people, (the lucky few it would seem) who have already lived, and they have already learned life's lessons. It seems people like that already have some sort of divine and profound wisdom to offer the world. But this too goes untaught.

And while your literature professor Bob Albrecht touched your life in more ways than you know, he never taught you how to figure out who you already are, but maybe something even better. While everybody else was saying the events in your life shape you, and turn you into who you are destined to become, Albrecht was teaching you how to open the doors, and allow yourself to be exposed.

About 2 years ago, someone walked into my life, and opened one door after another. One heavy oak door at a time, and I was exposed to various parts of my soul that I was totally unaware of. Dormant, almost....Like a bear in hibernation, mayhaps. Parts of my personality came rushing out in a flood.

I needed him in my life; I needed to see anger, and irrational thinking. It was one of the hardest parts of my life, and I needed it. I needed to feel stuck, as I did for so long. I felt as though there was no escape, and no hope for me just because I was in a relationship that had become both emotionally abusive, and emotionally dependent. - This is not just his fault. I take blame here as well.

An amazing thing happened when we got into our last big argument, and I called the police. I FELT BETTER. I felt as though there was hope for me...I felt as though I wasn't stuck. I felt as though I had options...Like I could break off the relationship, and not get murdered. I have been terrified of breaking off the relationship. Partly because I thought I'd get hurt, and partly because I would miss him.

They don't teach you this shit in college. 6 years, 2 schools, 2 time zones, split across 1 brain, and you still don't learn how to deal with the emotions of others. Experience goes a long way; your entire life isn't dictated by how much time you spend at a university.

I wish I remembered when exactly I entered this dark place. Or that dark place, as it is now past tense. I think we all go there at one point in our life. Better I go there young, than old. My dark place was kind of scary. I was always thinking of suicide, and I was messing around with black magik. I even cut my wrists several times. And it was never a suicide attempt, or a cry for help. It was punishment. I had entered a place psychologically that was so beyond fucked up, I thought I was a bad person. I thought I was inferior, and I *needed* to be punished. Nobody would do it, so I did it myself.

The way I was feeling was totally, and completely absurd in every way, shape and form. I felt like what was going on with us could only be treated, or cured, or fought by...whatever, by punishing myself. It is absurd to blame your actions on others. "You drive me to drink." "You make me cut my wrists." --I think we all do this at one point or another. I have learned it is wrong to say that, but rather, say "You make me feel..." or "Your actions make me feel...." We are all in control of our decisions, and resonably in control of our faculties.

I provoked him, and he provokes me. The instant, however, that anybody raises a violent hand, the situation becomes disrespectful. We got past the point where excuses could be made. Reasons are one thing, but excuses enter the realm of manipulation, and this itself is a reason to end the relationship. We both started being jealous, and possessive, and it should have ended.

I don't know what his reasons were for continuing a relationship with me, or trying to, but as for me.... I thought if I was good, if I was there, and if I was tolerant, and compassionate, our relationship would change. He would change....he would work through his issues, and become happy. I thought if I couldn't do that, I was a failure, so I kept trying, and trying, and trying, because that's what I thought was required.

The more I tried, the more I failed, and consequently, the more I cut my wrists, got trashed, smoked pot, and did hydrocodone and coke. He didn't make me; my actions were my own decisions. It was my way of coping with my failure. My self destruction was my way of coping. It was my punishment. I ran around, lied, fucked up my life, and my relationship more than it already was, purely because I thought I deserved to be punished for not being a good enough person.

They don't teach you how to cope in college. They don't teach you how to say the right words, or think the right thoughts, or feel the correct emotion to keep you sane, normal, and in check. They don't teach you how to love, or be loved willingly. And they don't teach you how to deal with the misery of another person...even, and especially if you didn't cause said misery.

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Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 1

Your whole life is about discovering who you already are, or at least that's what they say. Education can be a beautiful thing, but they don't teach you this in school. They don't teach you this at the State University of New York - School of engineering and technology.

Plato says there are some people, (the lucky few it would seem) who have already lived, and they have already learned life's lessons. It seems people like that already have some sort of divine and profound wisdom to offer the world. But this too goes untaught.

And while your literature professor Bob Albrecht touched your life in more ways than you know, he never taught you how to figure out who you already are, but maybe something even better. While everybody else was saying the events in your life shape you, and turn you into who you are destined to become, Albrecht was teaching you how to open the doors, and allow yourself to be exposed.

About 2 years ago, someone walked into my life, and opened one door after another. One heavy oak door at a time, and I was exposed to various parts of my soul that I was totally unaware of. Dormant, almost....Like a bear in hibernation, mayhaps. Parts of my personality came rushing out in a flood.

I needed him in my life; I needed to see anger, and irrational thinking. It was one of the hardest parts of my life, and I needed it. I needed to feel stuck, as I did for so long. I felt as though there was no escape, and no hope for me just because I was in a relationship that had become both emotionally abusive, and emotionally dependent. - This is not just his fault. I take blame here as well.

An amazing thing happened when we got into our last big argument, and I called the police. I FELT BETTER. I felt as though there was hope for me...I felt as though I wasn't stuck. I felt as though I had options...Like I could break off the relationship, and not get murdered. I have been terrified of breaking off the relationship. Partly because I thought I'd get hurt, and partly because I would miss him.

They don't teach you this shit in college. 6 years, 2 schools, 2 time zones, split across 1 brain, and you still don't learn how to deal with the emotions of others. Experience goes a long way; your entire life isn't dictated by how much time you spend at a university.

I wish I remembered when exactly I entered this dark place. Or that dark place, as it is now past tense. I think we all go there at one point in our life. Better I go there young, than old. My dark place was kind of scary. I was always thinking of suicide, and I was messing around with black magik. I even cut my wrists several times. And it was never a suicide attempt, or a cry for help. It was punishment. I had entered a place psychologically that was so beyond fucked up, I thought I was a bad person. I thought I was inferior, and I *needed* to be punished. Nobody would do it, so I did it myself.

The way I was feeling was totally, and completely absurd in every way, shape and form. I felt like what was going on with us could only be treated, or cured, or fought by...whatever, by punishing myself. It is absurd to blame your actions on others. "You drive me to drink." "You make me cut my wrists." --I think we all do this at one point or another. I have learned it is wrong to say that, but rather, say "You make me feel..." or "Your actions make me feel...." We are all in control of our decisions, and resonably in control of our faculties.

I provoked him, and he provokes me. The instant, however, that anybody raises a violent hand, the situation becomes disrespectful. We got past the point where excuses could be made. Reasons are one thing, but excuses enter the realm of manipulation, and this itself is a reason to end the relationship. We both started being jealous, and possessive, and it should have ended.

I don't know what his reasons were for continuing a relationship with me, or trying to, but as for me.... I thought if I was good, if I was there, and if I was tolerant, and compassionate, our relationship would change. He would change....he would work through his issues, and become happy. I thought if I couldn't do that, I was a failure, so I kept trying, and trying, and trying, because that's what I thought was required.

The more I tried, the more I failed, and consequently, the more I cut my wrists, got trashed, smoked pot, and did hydrocodone and coke. He didn't make me; my actions were my own decisions. It was my way of coping with my failure. My self destruction was my way of coping. It was my punishment. I ran around, lied, fucked up my life, and my relationship more than it already was, purely because I thought I deserved to be punished for not being a good enough person.

They don't teach you how to cope in college. They don't teach you how to say the right words, or think the right thoughts, or feel the correct emotion to keep you sane, normal, and in check. They don't teach you how to love, or be loved willingly. And they don't teach you how to deal with the misery of another person...even, and especially if you didn't cause said misery.

Normality

I have been having a discussion, of sorts, through written communication at a coffeeshop with someone regarding the issue of normality. The existance thereof, and I brought up the point that only 27% of americans find it normal to blog, and only 7% of americans keep an actual handwritten journal.

He said to me, that maybe this article isn't saying that x-ammount find it normal, but that 93% find it abnormal.

Valles Caldera

A friend went to Los Alamos today, and to the Jemez Springs, which are in, ironically, the Jemez Mountains, and Valles Caldera National Preserve. He brought back some really cool pieces of bark for me. They're just awesome! They are flat, and smooth, and are in strange shapes. Some of them are charred on one side from the fires. I love them, and they are probably going to go into some strange art project of mine.

The Jemez Mountains are a volcanic field in the northern part of New Mexico, and they overlies the west edge of the Rio Grande rift.

The most recent volcanic activity was roughly 130,000 years ago. The volcanic field surrounded by the mountains is best known for the Valles caldera which formed roughly 1.12 million years ago and produced the Bandelier Tuff. The Caldera is beautiful. Valles Caldera, basically, is a 90,000-acre volcanic bowl. You can see old logging roads corkscrew out of it, one road after the other. The Federal Government bought the land in 2000 for $100 million. It is currently part of the National Forest Service, but not run by the National Forest Service, nor subject to National Forest Regulations.

The Caldera harbors Soda Dam, which is a travertine deposit. Travertine is finely crystalized limestone which was formed by the calcium carbonate within water. It is a deposit for the hot springs. The most recent deposit was 5,000 years ago, and the oldest is 1 million years ago. The dam runs close to a faultline, and the deposits get thicker along the fault. Because it is a deposit for the hot springs, the hot springs will flow through, to disolve the minerals, and transport them through underwater channels, to the end, where it creats the formations. With Soda Damn being formed by sulfur-rich heated magma underground, the formation required thousands of years to develop.

Southwestern enumeration

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about Diablo Canyon, Chaco, Carlsbad, and the like. I am really quite addicted to New Mexico. The southwest, to be more accurate. It's just a beautiful area. The part of NY that I'm from is gorgeous. In fact, a town near where I grew up is called Ithica, and their slogan is "Ithica is gorges."

Anyway, getting back to the Southwest, here. I was thinking about it, and I'm just so totally in love with the southwest, and the landscapes. It has been influencing a lot of my painting, and artwork. To the left is a painting I did after a trip to Diablo Canyon, near Santa Fe, New Mexico. I have done several other paintings/drawings based highly on New Mexico landscapes, and sunsets.

There are roads that come out of Chaco. And they are just amazing. It's a big archelogical thing. There are 4 roads and they connect down to roads in Mexico, which end up connecting to the roads in the Peruvian desert. These roads are amazing, and perfect. Even today with our high-technology equipment, we can't do that. The roads in Peru have steps cut into the cliffs so you can climb up and over the cliff, still on the same road. They're Indian roads. And they go on, and on, and on. It's totally amazing.

When I first came to New Mexico from New York, I didn't think I would like it. It was a beautiful place, but I missed the green, and I missed the water. The longer I've been here, the more beautiful I have realized it is. I am just totally captured. The sunsets, and moonrises, and mountains...all of it just has me fascinated.

First things first....

There are a few things that need to be said, right here, and right now.

1) There are people in my blog that will remain annonomous until I hear otherwise that it is okay to give a name. Do not ask for names, as you will not get them.

2) If you want more details on something, and I say "None of your business" don't be surprised. If I wanted you to know more, you would.

3) Blogspot allows everybody to comment, as opposed to Xanga, who's server happens to be down right now, who is only allowing members to comment. This is probably much better!

ANYWAY! Now that's out of the way!

Guestmap grumpiness

So I did a lot of work on my website last night. Including adding a guestmap to my site, so people could place a pin, and let me know where in the world they are! I thought it was a nifty little thing. Well, turns out people who go to my site are lazy fucks. 6 entries. That's it! One billionth of the population. That's fucking it! I know for a fact there are more people than that who go to my site.

squishedlizard: The people who go to my site are fucking lazy.
Zotte Park: lol I know, I am one of them
Zotte Park: "one billionth of the world's population are logging onto SquizhedLizard dot net!"
squishedlizard: lol.
Zotte Park: I dare you to quote me
squishedlizard: Oh I will.

Okay, so I got this Blog in addition to my Xanga, so I can have an RSS feed. It's about damn time too, eh? I'll be trying to post them concurrently, but we'll see how that all works out.