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i_j_m2000
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Name: Ian
Country: United States
State: Ohio
Birthday: 7/23/1987
Gender: Male
Interests: Acting, Writing, Music, Rapping, Psychology, German, Using words to their highest potential, Missing my own previous self-optimism, Film, Film editing, Large cities, Beat Composition, Alternative life goals(non-suburbia), Introversion mixed with false extroversion, Piano, Clarinette, Politics, I likes me some activism, Vegetarianism, Sound editing, Xbox(or 360), and Proving that I can go years without dying.
Expertise: Controlling my block, Acting, Writing, Psychology, Music, Astronomy, Politics, Figuring myself, as well as others out, Eliminating threats, Cracking eggs with the yoke intact, Holding tinted windows in my hands at an angle and not being visible behind them due to the fact that they're only translucent, not transparent, Bringing the ruckus, Not sleeping much at all, Driving my SA purple vehicle of hope and acting like a BA in it, Owning my own hotel-style basement with no fees charged for stay, and Making makeshift shifts.
Occupation: Writer
Industry: Entertainment
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  IanJM2000
MSN: I_j_m2000@hotmail.com
Yahoo:  i_j_m2000
Member Since:
11/4/2003
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| It's all changed quite a bit.
I only have about 3 true friends anymore, I mean, sure, I still know those in Zanesville, but it's been too long with too little in the way of contact. I can't say that I tried "so hard" to keep in touch, but I did make a few attempts. I was assaulted, that was a while ago. Actually, it was on October 7th, at about 6:55 AM. I'm waiting for a settlement from the Ohio BWC, that's something. That will actually provide me for my long awaited move to NYC in September. So as you see, my dreams are the same, but the enthusiasm has faded for a number of reasons, a number of people. One, I guess. Regardless, I'm reading alot again, that has made a triumphant return, and I'm writing again after 2 straight months of block during December and January. I have been the happiest in my life during a few days in the past 3 months, but I also attribute it to a number of unfair advantages, such as Zoloft and my job. I like to think I'm good at my job, but I don't really know if I am. I finally tried drinking. I had a good time, but I actually felt the need to confess the entirety of my stupor to my mother over the phone the following evening. I fear that I may in fact end up turning to drinking as a means of support for any problems, and I have indeed lost a part of myself, perhaps betreyed a part of Ian, but I don't care as much as I would like to. I wrote 3 pages of pure text when I got home after being drunk, and it was by far the best writing quality I have ever achieved, bar none. I hope that doesn't say something about my abilities. I have a huge mix of feelings I tell pretty much only Cameron about these days, he is my closest friend up here, with Jordan in the top three as well. The other is just someone you don't know, I'm sure. I'm sure you know no one though, as you don't exist, because you would have to be readingt his to exist as you and to take your rightful place in my passive mind as "you", and I highly doubt this will be read, so you can interprety any of this as you would like to, which is just another way of saying that my words aren't truly worth being interpreted.
Like I said, I write alot.
Thats about all I've ever written amounts to, the fact that the sheer volume of my written word is pretty large.
Peace,
Ian | | |
| My career of choice is simply the only thing I don’t suck at. It was a choice of necessity. I’m a rip off of all the people I admire. All my thoughts have already been thought, and the originators went one further; they actually spoke these thoughts. So they win the race and I’m out, damned to look like nothing but a hack for the rest of my life.
That may or may not be true.
Tonight it sure seems like it.
Peace,
Ian | | |
| Look, If you do business with me on E-BAY, expect to EN-JOY it!
TAKE IT AS A GIFT, SELLERS, FEED OFF MY ENTHUSIASM.
Anyway, I'll get back to ya.
Peace,
Ian | | |
| Well, looks like Xanga has changed quite a bit.
Both in layout functionality and usage. As in, no one really uses it anymore.
But here I am, just reporting from the field what exactly I see at the edge.
I write as much up here as I had hoped.
I walk any time I'm bored, and that's very helpful in life, to have some activity to turn to when you're out of ideas.
I get most of my new ideas when I walk. Be they for a lyric, an alternate story, or a script.
I've begun appreciating myself considerably more, because although I live in a house of 5 people, I'm alone a lot, and I don't mind the company I keep.
I'd like to extend an open invitation to end hostile feelings toward both Nick and Andyroo, because I now see in this life, enemies are far too easy to attain, and the less, the better.
An incident occured at my now former workplace recently that I will later expand upon as far as explanation goes, but let's just leave it at: Unprofessionalism at its most obvious.
Of course the act of unprofessionalism was not on my part, as I am nearly silent when I go to work, and I don't bother anyone with any problems I might have. My coworkers were understanding of this fact for the most part, and I appreciate the time that I did work at HoundDogs, but sure enough after this, it is painfully clear that my occupation at that "establishment" NEEDED to end.
Anyway, alot of things will be happening in the next few weeks as far as my life is concerned, and of course, being unemployed currently, there is a certain fear factor associated with this, as well as considerable fear from another source of direct threatening, but Ian'll make it, go on to write about it, and one day be where he is supposed to be.
I'll be back.
Peace,
Ian | | |
| If you've spent any meaningful amount of time in the Bassment, as I obviously have, you might find this of interest.
This is likely the last time in my life I will ever live here, in My Bassment.
Whenever I place any old scrap of my life inside this cardboard box, I realize that it might never find it's home in this spot again.
I wonder what they'll do to the basement when I'm gone.
I've heard rumors of a pool table.
I've spent 3, maybe 4 years down here.
I started making my first beats down here.
I've now made over 230 completed beats down here.
I recall the summer of Jesse Back staying over every day, I recall the previous summer of Jordan Badnell staying for weeks at a time, I recall the constant usage of the slushy machine, the summer where I did over 300 Sit-ups per day, this summer, which entailed much long distance bike riding at night, leading to my schedule of every day waking up sometime after 3 PM.
I remember laying under my bed to skip school 4 days in a row.
I have had had countless fights down here.
I used to sit down here and write after countless fights.
I've watched the best movies I've ever seen down here.
I've written around 3 sitcom scripts down here, along with pages and pages of random dialogue.
I've written over 300 Separate raps down here on my computer alone, not counting the many notebooks and hundreds of little paper scraps I have lying around this place.
I've made friends down here.
I have lost no friends while down here.
I've been disappointed many many times down here.
I've dealt with those disappointments each and every time.
I've, no question, been depressed the most down here than anywhere else.
I've received a lot of bad news while down here.
I was almost emancipated while I lived down here!
I've sat on ever chair down here countless times.
I've slept on the bed very very few times, for reasons obvious to those who were around during the glory days.
I've slept on the ground many times when too many people were over.
I've had parties with over 26 people down here at once.
I found my voice down here.
I wonder how long the writing on the bathroom wall will stay.
Many friends have written on that wall, most still very close, a few who drifted away, and a few who would no longer consider themselves any such things as friends.
This was the best home I've ever had, without question.
Not necessarily the best time I've ever had in a home consistently on a day by day basis, but the best living space I could have asked for.
Hence, I am very sad about moving out, and likely never coming back.
Visiting will not be the same. My furniture will be gone, my room will be empty, there won't really be any future for this space, at least one which relates to the rest of my assumedly long life.
I've always been very sad about moving, especially as a younger child.
Scared to death of change.
When I moved up to Columbus on February 28th this past year, I knew that I was coming back, but I left on absolutely horrible terms with my parents.
That is all over, thank god.
Regardless of what went wrong during this summer, what I didn't achieve, unfulfilled hopes, whatever disappointments faced due to failure or apathy, I regret nothing of this summer.
Sleeping every single day incredibly late.
And while it wasn't a return to childhood familiarity with my parents, there is at least an understanding that, maybe I do actually know what I'm doing after all.
Don't try to guess what it is, just assume that I know enough to deal with whatever complications could ever arise in my life.
I'm finally starting to feel OK with myself.
That doesn't translate to any form of confidence, but it doesn't need to. All of those personality traits, they belong with me.
My parents keep saying that this can still be my home whenever I'd like it to be again,
but I just don't really see it.
I'm just really scared of seeing this floor without any of my clothes on it, without any of my furniture to cover its stains, without any reason to come back to it.
That pretty much sums it up, right there.
Peace,
Ian
PS: If you know what happened to both my stolen bike and Cameron's stolen bike, please let me know.
They were evidently both taken from my side yard sometime during this past week without my knowledge.
It's a big deal to me. | | |
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