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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz</id>
  <title>Being Charlie Wyatt</title>
  <subtitle>Moving for the Sake of Motion</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Chazzzzz</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-02-12T04:16:37Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="10541595" username="chazzzzz" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:3223</id>
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    <title>A Line Allows Progress, A Circle Does Not.</title>
    <published>2009-02-12T04:16:37Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-12T04:16:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I need change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel worthless, drifting between each paycheck with not much more to look forward to than the next quick fix.&lt;br /&gt;And by fix, I don't mean drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fix like ... something that makes me feel truly happy to be where I am, doing what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasted around $600 on Online classes that I only applied myself to for one day, and now am almost three weeks behind. That's inexcusable, but in part I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;Part of me wonders if I have ADD, seriously. Or perhaps I just don't care enough, and procrastinate more than I apply myself.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, that's more likely the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid to grow up. To give into the ever-popular trend of going to college, getting a 9-5 job and forever relinquishing my fairy-tale delusions of grandeur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth of the matter is: I have no idea what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, the possibilities are endless. I could be anything.&lt;br /&gt;But how am I supposed to know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been satisfied with doing anything for very long.&lt;br /&gt;Working McDonald's was hell. Working at my parent's store, even more so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back now, I really loved working at Medieval Times.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it was because I was loved by most of my co-workers, or if there was some serious job-satisfaction out of it. But for some reason the shitty pay didn't matter all that much at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that made me quit was problems with a member of upper-management, who no longer works there. A disagreement and potential demotion made me leave, though I wasn't very happy to do so.&lt;br /&gt;Part of me really wishes I was still there.&lt;br /&gt;But there's no sense of job security and an ex still works there. That'd certainly be a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm considering applying for a Medical Coding job.&lt;br /&gt;While there's some seriously good money there with little/no schooling required, I really doubt I'll be happy. I'm nervous my life will turn into not-so-funny version of Office Space that I won't be able to recover from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a lot on my mind right now, and I can't seem to really get it all into words, without trailing off on some random tangent.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps time will mold my collection of thoughts into something one can actually comprehend.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:2920</id>
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    <title>out of nowhere</title>
    <published>2008-08-12T07:41:35Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-12T23:45:42Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Anthony Green- Avalon</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Somehow I've ended up falling for her.&lt;br /&gt;Cindy, a friend's ex who I've been hanging out with [through mutual friends and parties] for months now, came out and told me she had feelings for me.&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea. I really didn't see it coming at all.&lt;br /&gt;Initially I didn't want to try, being as friends would likely (and did) get upset.&lt;br /&gt;But after thinking more on it and actually spending some alone time with her, I found the feelings were there all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I never allowed myself to feel anything for Cindy beyond friendship. She was practically a sister to me, and I never made a single advance on her.&lt;br /&gt;I thought she was out of my league.&lt;br /&gt;She's gorgeous, funny, smart, and possibly one of the kindest people I've met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She could've had anyone, but I stuck out for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just because I look weird. LoL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping we can make this work, and make it last.&lt;br /&gt;I always fuck up my relationships somehow, and I think this might be my last attempt at something serious.&lt;br /&gt;If this blows up in my face, then I just don't know what I'll do.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll join the military. Or become a monk.&lt;br /&gt;Then again, with only four years until 12-21-2012 (see also: the end of the world), I've really nothing to worry about.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:2763</id>
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    <title>fone</title>
    <published>2008-07-29T23:24:49Z</published>
    <updated>2008-07-29T23:30:49Z</updated>
    <category term="creepyasfuckinghell"/>
    <lj:music>Imogen Hearp - Hide And Seek</lj:music>
    <content type="html">The creepiest thing I've most recently experienced was definitely a customer-survey call from GameStop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The machine "asking" me questions sounded like a bad cartoon's voice actor for a six-year-old girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked if I would recommend the store, to which I replied yes, she said "Great!" and I nearly dropped my phone.&lt;br /&gt;Imagine a female Chucky doll, doing phone surveys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go cry myself to sleep now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:2557</id>
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    <title>chazzzzz @ 2008-06-16T10:16:00</title>
    <published>2008-06-16T14:47:32Z</published>
    <updated>2008-06-16T14:47:32Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Strata</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I'm walking in a subway by myself.&lt;br /&gt;I have no destination. I must be just wandering aimlessly.&lt;br /&gt;I get a message on my phone. It's from a girl I've spoken to maybe twice on MySpace.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know her name, only her profile name: "Oisseau."&lt;br /&gt;She asked that I make my way to her place to hang out, to which I replied "Sure. On my way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my way up the stairs out of the subway and ended up surrounded by a dense forest, with only a couple of concrete buildings clearing the foilage.&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I began to sneak around, as if trying to infiltrate a military base or something.&lt;br /&gt;For a forest the area was fairly populated, with maybe a handful of people walking past the buildings every few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;I made my way to the farthest building and entered, making my way to an elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this elevator I encountered someone I knew. Someone I knew very well, in fact.&lt;br /&gt;It was Megan, an ex-girlfriend. She was standing in the corner with her arms folded, seemingly pouting until our gazes met.&lt;br /&gt;At that point she smiled and pushed me against the wall, kissing me aggressively.&lt;br /&gt;I could only react with shock, as the last time we spoke things were less than peaceful ... and here she was playing tonsil hockey with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elevator came to a halt at a top floor, but the hallway we stepped into seemed to be the hallway of a townhouse. Doors were open. Bedrooms, bathrooms open to the public.&lt;br /&gt;She dragged me into one of the rooms and shut the door behind us, and began removing her clothes.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the room got dark and I heard a noise from the other end of the room ... which strangely had a small hallway connecting to another room, but lacked doors.&lt;br /&gt;Another girl who I've never seen walked into the dark room, and simply asked "Do you guys have protection?" to which we responded "No."&lt;br /&gt;She threw a condom at us and left the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look back at Megan she's wearing this look of disappointment or disgust, I couldn't tell what.&lt;br /&gt;She pulled the blankets up over our heads angrily and I immediately "wake up" on the floor, on a futon-like mattress.&lt;br /&gt;She's nowhere to be seen and it's daylight again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head down the elevator and find myself stepping out onto a stage in an auditorium.&lt;br /&gt;To my left I see my friend Dave sitting facing the audience, playing a video game on a small tv.&lt;br /&gt;"Dude, come join in" he says, waving me over.&lt;br /&gt;I make my way to him and sit down and pick up a controller and play some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk away from it when the audience begins to start chatting, and make my way into the elevator.&lt;br /&gt;This time the girl who offered "protection" is there, and attempts to block me from getting on.&lt;br /&gt;I thrusted my hand in between the closing doors and she begins to glare at me.&lt;br /&gt;"Look, I just wanna talk to her" I say to her, and she glances over at another guy standing in the corner of the elevator with a look saying "it's up to you."&lt;br /&gt;The guy shrugs, but keeps his eyes on me like a hawk.&lt;br /&gt;I step onto the elveator and make my way to the same bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open the door and there's a white flash of light.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry" Megan says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wake up.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:1800</id>
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    <title>two dreams, one night. part two.</title>
    <published>2008-06-05T11:58:17Z</published>
    <updated>2008-06-05T11:58:17Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Pork and Beans - Weezer</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Dream two.&lt;br /&gt;It's dark outside, with the exception of traces of sun on the horizon. The sky is a dark gray, but everything is visible without the need to strain the eye.&lt;br /&gt;I'm walking along a pier with my friend Farmer. The water doesn't make a sound. In fact, I don't recall even seeing a wave.&lt;br /&gt;This pier is nearly water-level, possibly extending only an inch above it. It feels like walking on water.&lt;br /&gt;Farmer and I converse about our troubles with women, and how chances of finding the right girl is slim-to-none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember specifically trying to give him tips, or lines to use, which he rejected.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know who you're talkin to, Chuck? I'm Chris Farmer. Your lines won't help." He says it with a sense of desperation and defeat.&lt;br /&gt;It seems nothing can help at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continue walking along the pier and we reach the shore. There are crates all around; some metal, some wooden. On one sits a laptop with a simple log-in screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yo I wish Tim Trees was here right now, I'd tell him about this idea I've been thinkin on for a minute." He says, making his way to the computer with some sort of plan.&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, Tim arrives almost entirely unnoticed. He is quiet, very unlike his normal self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farmer tries to log in, but forgets his password multiple times. Then I realize it's because his log-in name is unchanged from ".·´.··» ¤ŠãÑ|)|2á¤«··.`·.", a user name my friend Sandra has as her MySpace name. He quickly changes it, loads up a web browser, and displays a picture of Optimus Prime, from the Transformers movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think I'm gonna color this whole side of him black, and then here, on his shoulder pads, color him brown. I'll call him Rusty." He says this with pride, and a tone of satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Farmer, you're fucking stupid." I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wake up.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:1556</id>
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    <title>two dreams, one night. part one.</title>
    <published>2008-06-05T11:27:32Z</published>
    <updated>2008-06-05T11:27:53Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Dream one.&lt;br /&gt;I am in an apartment of some sort. Reminds me of those shoddy one-rooms people rent when they first move into New York, because it's the only thing they can afford. In the movies.&lt;br /&gt;I'm with a girl, but I don't remember who she is. Part of me thinks she is, in fact, my mother. But I think I recall the conversation being the type I wouldn't have with her.&lt;br /&gt;We walk outside and get into a nondescript car. 'She' gets in back, I am driver.&lt;br /&gt;A man walks up to my window and knocks. I roll it down with the push of a button.&lt;br /&gt;"Ey mista, you tryin ta help a guy out by givin me a ride?" he asks with a heavy New York accent. I recognize his face instantly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://hollywoodpodcast.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2006/08/34_stuntmantospiderman.jpgsingle.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the carjacker from "Spiderman." But he has no intentions of carjacking me.&lt;br /&gt;His intentions seem pure, so I allow him to ride shotgun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive for about five minutes, somehow knowing where he wants to go without even asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is now driving, and I'm riding shotgun. It's dark and stormy out, and I begin to recognize where we are.&lt;br /&gt;It's Baltimore. But not just any part of Baltimore.&lt;br /&gt;He gradually comes to a halt, right in front of my &lt;i&gt;grandfather's house.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dammit!" he yells, slamming on the steering wheel and blaring the horn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wake up.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:1483</id>
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    <title>losing it.</title>
    <published>2008-06-03T07:29:13Z</published>
    <updated>2008-06-03T07:29:13Z</updated>
    <lj:music>The Receiving End Of Sirens</lj:music>
    <content type="html">There are three things I hate about myself most.&lt;br /&gt;How lazy I am, how much I procrastinate (as a result of my laziness), and my relationships with girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep expecting something good to just "happen" to me&lt;br /&gt;where I'll just magically find a better job&lt;br /&gt;or a pile of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not going to happen&lt;br /&gt;it just won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too lazy to go out and really look, so I apply online.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be damned if any place has ever called me back from an online interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as girls go, I've realized my pattern.&lt;br /&gt;I befriend, I take things to the next level, and then some form of blow-up occurs in which I vow to want nothing to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;It's really rare for me to keep a female friend. &lt;br /&gt;Odds are: if I talk to you regularly, I'm at least considering you as date-able.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's not like it's a planned thing. That's just how it keeps happening. Four times now in the past three years.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I just had a girl I could stay friends with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone to go drinking over friend's houses with me.&lt;br /&gt;Someone to play XBox with me.&lt;br /&gt;Someone to argue with me over little things.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who I'll be able to trust.&lt;br /&gt;Someone whose shoulder I can cry on.&lt;br /&gt;Someone that'll smack me into reality and help keep me on track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck. That sounds like a girlfriend's to-do list.&lt;br /&gt;Could a girl_friend actually do all those things without overstepping the boundaries?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:1154</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://chazzzzz.livejournal.com/1154.html"/>
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    <title>gurlz</title>
    <published>2008-03-03T16:37:53Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-03T16:37:53Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Vanna - We Ate The Horse You Rode In On</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I wrote this is my Xanga, which I just checked for the first time in like a year and a half ... and because I'm lazy I just copy + pasted it in here, as I felt it was a decent journal entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you fucking shitting me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been over a year since I've done anything with this site?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well okay, I can understand why. MySpace. Facebook. Having a social life.&lt;br /&gt;Shit happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how things turn out.&lt;br /&gt;At the time of the last couple entries, I've been dating a different girl for each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My big relationships, too. The heartbreakers.&lt;br /&gt;That's not happening anymore, though - I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I'll fall in love, I'll never lose myself in a relationship like I have before.&lt;br /&gt;Amanda was my life. She fucked it up.&lt;br /&gt;Megan was my life. She fucked me up royally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both relationships have ended in bitter, horrible fights and an overwhelming desire to commit suicide.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm really not kidding. I had a bottle of pills I was ready to swallow after Megan and I's final words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to learn from my mistakes and guard myself.&lt;br /&gt;I'll give away the key to my heart, but this time I'm keeping a spare.&lt;br /&gt;If something happens and I end up single again, fuck it. Life goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brittany is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;She's cute, funny, dorky, and makes me feel like I really matter.&lt;br /&gt;Just meeting her has changed me in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's the first girl I've ever initiated conversation with, and not been the slightest bit shy around.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously - she has yet to see my shyness at all in the past three months we've known eachother (and two months of dating).&lt;br /&gt;There's really no pressure with her, and she doesn't want to change me at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her, and I hope these feelings last."</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:782</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://chazzzzz.livejournal.com/782.html"/>
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    <title>gurrfrenn</title>
    <published>2007-12-23T06:14:02Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-23T06:14:02Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I've managed to snag a girly right before Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;She's cute, smart, and I'm totally comfortable around her.&lt;br /&gt;She brags about me to her friends, and we give eachother butterflies all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's great.&lt;br /&gt;Life's pretty great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the moment, at least.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:553</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://chazzzzz.livejournal.com/553.html"/>
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    <title>tomorrow turns into next christmas</title>
    <published>2007-12-20T02:29:53Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-20T02:29:53Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Circa Survive</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Wow.&lt;br /&gt;If it weren't for a certain someone commenting me, I would've let this page just rot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I'll mess around with it &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt; year.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:chazzzzz:507</id>
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    <title>Startup</title>
    <published>2006-06-27T07:40:13Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-27T07:40:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">First entry ... and nothing to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll think of something tomorrow.</content>
  </entry>
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