konahrtist's Xanga

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 05:19:28 GMT

www.konahrtist.blogspot.com

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Tue, 12 Jun 2007 23:14:45 GMT

God damn...

It's been over a year since my last post and I write this?

...

...sweet.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Fri, 02 Jun 2006 05:22:11 GMT

[LIFE PLAN: 00000-00001-A]

I apply for a job at an airport…preferably at the Oakland Airport simply because it’s the closest.

But upon thinking about it more, the San Francisco International Airport would probably be more beneficial to my entire crazy plan.

I land a job at an airport and work full-time as a ramp agent or whatnot and rack up on free miles. I drop school and everything else that doesn’t involve working at the airport, and I continue to save money.

During the time while I’m employed at the airport, I live at home with my momma to save money as much as I can…a sacrifice I am willing to make for the greater cause…

After working at the airlines for a while, I grab the cash that I’ve saved over the period of several months tossing other people’s bags into the belly of a jumbo jet, pack a small backpack and duffle bag, and cash in my free miles that I’ve earned and travel to another continent of my choice.

I spend two weeks or so exploring the country of my choice to the best that I can, fly back home, work some more, and repeat the whole process over again except choosing a new country every time.

I, then, live the rest of my life as a perpetual traveler until I’ve visited every country, step foot on every continent (where permitted), and visit as many cities as I can until I die.

This plan is so simple…

It’s so crazy that it just might work…

Peace, cheers, and bottoms up.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Tue, 23 May 2006 04:33:54 GMT

[WARNING: incoherent arrangement of random thoughts floating in the post below.]

God damn this world is so immensely huge in such a small insignificant way.

My car definitely needs a carwash and a well-deserved oil change as well…it probably won’t hurt to purchase some of those engine cleaner and octane boost fluid shit too. It definitely needs to be vacuumed inside. I want to give her a nice pedicure treatment polishing her tires and rims. A nice wax rub down would probably feel good for my baby like a full body massage long overdo.

It’s true…sometimes you have to pamper the lady that you love the most.

For over a month, I’ve secluded myself (for the most part) from the rest of the world observing life through the comfort of my dingy windshield smeared with a lovely combination of road grease, dirt, and pollen giving everything a nice yellowish amber tint to whatever moving image I was studying.

Turning on the windshield wipers in an attempt to wash everything off only seemed to smear this lovely blend of colors like an oil painting that you’d see in an art museum. It doesn’t matter though…it’s kinda nice.

Sometimes when you squint your eyes a little bit so that everything becomes kinda blurry, you can pick out images out of all that dirt and yellow grim off the windshield.

It’s just like looking up at the clouds on a sunny ass day…

It just takes you away and you become stuck in that moment. At first, it was weird not being around the things that were familiar to me. Our whole lives as the human species, we tend to morph the environment to our liking so that it suits us, but to take myself out of that routine was…weird. I have no other way to put it.

Like a kind of conscious meditation, I’d stare out through my discolored windshield looking out over the maroon Oakland horizon and every fucking thought in my head would just ever so gently lift and move like the rolling fog off the hills of San Francisco into the subconscious part of my head where it’d be collected for me to come back to at a later time.

Surprisingly, the bucket seats were kind to my back while I slept. It was cold as fuck though. I couldn’t do much about that since I’m stuck in a 2 door coupe other than put on more layers.

Tonya was tight…extreme tight…but she was comfortably snug.

At night, the t-tops were fucking awesome. I’d recline my seat all the way back and take the t-top covers off and right above my head I could stare out at the night sky. Most of the time though, I wasn’t able to see any stars because I was parked under a tree or it was too overcast, but once in a while I’d see the moon peeking out here and there behind a cloud.

The sound of an airplane passing by at night is so much louder outside even when you’re in your car than when you’re indoors.

I’d just follow the blinking lights tracing the dark silhouette of the plane as it slowly came towards my driver-side window, right across the top left on my windshield, then right across the driver-side t-top window right above me, then cross over to the passenger-side t-top window, and out of my view.

Then I’d wait for the next one. In one night, I counted 28 before I fell asleep.

If what I’m watching doesn’t amuse me, I change the channel figuratively. I’d drive around until I found something interesting to watch, and I park and sit and do it all over again.

All I ever want is to find a piece of mind for myself, but I realize that trying to do so is going to be a life-long journey to obtain something so precious. Yet, I still find myself trying to drown this aching thirst for whatever the fuck it is that I’m searching for. It’s not so much direction in my life that I’m looking for or the meaning of life in general…

…well actually…I guess I do question that myself from time to time, but who doesn’t?

I’d just like to think that there’s a lot more out there and that there’s so much more to everything in life than what we can see. I know that the only thing that should matter is for us to do the things that we want to do in life…to do something that will make us happy, and of course living in the world that we do today, without money we can’t survive. That’s the real world that we live in and that’s reality.

I understand that, and it’s not a problem.

I’m starting to find that other artists (painters, film-makers, musicians – any artist who creates art for self-expression) or people who actively analyzes and thinks critically about life (such as writers or philosophers) are just some of the people who understands what the hell I’m talking about.

Life is full of uncertainties and it’s those same uncertainties in life that makes everything that much more interesting. John Lennon said that “life passes you by while you’re planning something”…yeah…

Living out of my car for a period of time help put a lot of things in perspective for me. I thought that I’d miss the comforts of life, like T.V., video games, porn, the internet, my bed, my radio alarm clock, my dvd’s, my loofah...but strangely I didn’t miss them as much as I expected. If there was one thing that I needed was my sketch book.

With all of the comforts of modern day life taken out of the picture, the only one thing that I was dependent on was art…

My sketch book was the only thing that I needed to bring with me on my journey as a car bound hermit for a short period of time.

I did what my friend Tyler Durden said to me…I let go…I let go of everything in my life that I thought was somewhat important to me according to what I’ve been told by other people my whole life, and when it came down to it…I found that one thing that I couldn’t let go of.

We become so attached to the meaningless material things in our lives that it conceals the things that actually do mean something to us…and for each person it’s different what that one thing may be, but everyone has one.

I can actually say that I’m feeling better. I feel like everything is finally falling into place in terms of my life devoted to art. Out of nowhere, opportunities are opening up for me with much thanks to some old school folks and some new school blood from around the way. I was also reminded of one of my early dreams as a kid that I completely forgot about…in 2010 (which is coming up pretty fucking fast), you’ll see what I’m talking about…

Until next time folks, I apologize for the random thoughts floating around in this post in such a disorganized way…there’s too much that I’ve got to say at this point to gather them in a coherent sequence of words and sentences. All I have to say is:

FUCK YEAH BITCHES!!!

Thanks to certain folks, I’m ready to show the world what’s been brewing in my brain for so long.

Peace, cheers, and bottoms up.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Fri, 07 Apr 2006 02:50:33 GMT

So this is the point in the story of my life where things become very interesting.

I’m not just doing this for myself, but for all the other folks in the world who don’t have the balls to truly grab their lives by the wrinkly testicles and take control. Life truly is too short to not experience everything for what it is.

It seems like people are more afraid of life itself than to actually live it, like how it was first meant to be. I hope that makes sense to you. If it does…then you know exactly what I’m saying and my heart goes to out to you, and if you have no clue to what I’m talking about…you got some more soul searching to do; you need to reevaluate your life and truly ask yourself if what you have now in life is what you really want in the end, or even better, ask yourself if the way that your living now is the way you want to live the rest of your life.

I’ve packed what I can into a green duffle bag and my backpack…

I only packed the essential stuff that I need…

jeans
t-shirts
beaters
socks
underwear
hoddies
toothbrush
contact lens stuff
glasses
sketch book
color pencils
markers
mp3 player

I have no plan or direction to where to go as of now, but I can surely tell you that I’m in a better place. It’s better to be out of your element than to stay stagnant in an environment that you’ve been comfortable in. It seems like human nature to stick around things that one has come accustomed to…

People fear change for some reason.

For the most part, most of my soul searching has ended with me staring down an empty bottle. My thoughts seem schizophrenic to me jumping from one thought to another propelled by mixed emotions from choices made in my life at times where I was lost. It’s truly funny how at times when you’re in need of someone, the people that you know seem like complete strangers…to the point where you question if you can turn to them.

The question isn’t if you can trust them, but more so if you have the enough courage to ask for help. To many people today are so full of shit that it becomes easy for you to reciprocate the same shit back without anyone noticing it.

Weird how things end up huh?

Full of shit we are like fucking Oreo cookies being eaten up by people around us…I’m a victim of it I’ll admit it and so are you…everyone is at one point of their life or another. Of course some are more prone to it than others, but the important thing is when you can detect the bullshit within yourself, that’s the point when one can gain a sense of “not-giving-a-fuck” about what the world thinks of you, and you can start living your life and mold it exactly how you want it.

The greatest, the most important people who go down in history have the most awesome stories to share about their lives…an old friend told me that.

(Thank you Min)

I’m bound to find my story.

Until then folks, I’m not trying to cut lines with anybody. Please feel free give me a call and leave a message because I still want to hear from you, no doubt. I’ll call you back as soon as I can, but for now…I’m going to make my life as interesting as I can for myself and maybe I’ll have a story about my life that folks will want to hear. Cheers to that and drink up. Life is way too short for all this drama.

Peace.

p.s.
I want to give a shout out to all those who came out to my first art show. I know it wasn’t a big venue, but it truly meant a lot to me. Don’t worry…there’s more to come. Like the Men’s Warehouse, “I guarantee it.”

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Wed, 01 Feb 2006 19:25:58 GMT

It's kinda funny of the life choices we make.

You always wonder if you're life is destined for failure...or you ask yourself why does that fucker get all the breaks in life...

If I were to work hard towards something, will I really be able to achieve what I want?...or will there always be some sort of perpetual glass ceiling that'll keep me guessing?...or is this idea instilled into us just to keep us busy and to shut us up?

Okay, let's scratch the generalities because I'm starting to realize that the choices that I've made in the past throughout my life has always fucked me up. I can honestly sit here and easily compile a list of the shitty life decisions that I've made and the fucked up thing is that I still haven't learned from them...mainly because the stupid choices that I've made don't end up biting in me in the ass until much later. I'm not talking about denying that I have change to a homeless person when I did have like a fifty cents in my pocket or cheating on a French test in high school or small shit like that. I'm talking about more substantial things in life where I should've known better...I should've realized and known that it was my responsiblity to do something or change it somehow for the better.

If you knew that someone dear to you was going to injure themselves or someone else, you would probably do something, right? I hope so. If a friend was fucking up big time, wouldn't you try to correct them and help them out? Most likely. It just sucks that the decisions that I've made are just now starting to catch up on my ass, and I really only have myself to blame. There really isn't much that I can do now expect to deal with the consequences from my stupid life decisions.

Sooner or later in life you find out how utterly alone you really are.

The End.

(no, I didn't get a girl pregnant.)

Friday, January 27, 2006

Fri, 27 Jan 2006 03:53:03 GMT

Holy limp dog dick smeared in tartar sauce laid on top of Belgium waffles if front of a 400lb fat man…

It’s been ages since I’ve graced the xanga website with my presence. My, my…it feels weird to writing again. I think I have to ease into the routine of creative free writing that I used to do so often…

Glad to be back folks.

I went into hibernation, but I’m slowly picking off that yellow eye crust that accumulates all over your fucking eye after a loooooooooong night of restful sleep (which I may add that my insomnia is still thriving vigorously) …and I’m still on winter break for god sakes. I don’t start until the 31^stof this month. I’m actually looking forward to this new semester and this new year. Another whole new year is laid out right in front of us...life is just waiting for us to fuck it up all over again. A lot has actually happened in my life in the past several months that I want to share pretty soon.

It’s funny.

I’ve always found it extremely easy to share things with the anonymous readers (yes, all of one or so) about certain facets of my life than it is to share with my closest of closest friends. I love this whole aspect of actually being able to be your "true" self while still hiding behind this mysterious cloak of a user name. That fucking rocks both of my socks and brings a nice tingly sensation to my crotch area.

I like that word...CROTCH.

Sweet.

I’m going to keep it short for tonight. I’ve been gone for too long just to start diving in like this. I missed writing.

The End

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Thu, 24 Nov 2005 01:09:59 GMT

shit...only if life was really this interesting.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Sun, 20 Nov 2005 05:23:44 GMT

Dialogue

Are you an artist?

No, not really.

Well, why not? You paint and draw, correct?

Yeah.

Well? You don’t call yourself an artist? You create art, do you not?

Well, yes I guess…I mean, I do paint and draw, and art in general is a big part of my life, but I don’t really feel comfortable calling myself an artist.

How come you don’t consider yourself as an artist?

…

If a person paints and creates artistic pieces they’re considered an artist. If you play the piano, are you not a pianist?

Well, yes, but to me…an artist is someone who can create an art piece that’s able to spark some sort of intellectual conversation or dialogue between two people. Whether that dialogue is about that particular piece that they may be looking at or about some other time or memory within them that the piece can resurrect through some sort of emotional nerve that the piece may have struck, then the creator of that piece has fulfilled his title as an artist.

…

Is that your definition of an artist?

…I don’t really know honestly…

Well, that leads us to the question: what is art to an individual?

I don’t know...art is…well…art could be almost anything.

Anything?

Well…maybe not anything.

Are you sure?

Well, I can take shit of a piece of paper and smear it all over a wall and call it art…but would that really be considered art? To some I guess…maybe to me if I really felt that way, but in some sense no.

Well, if it’s art to you, then what else matters? Who cares what other people think as long as you can express yourself through some sort of medium. Isn’t that what the point of art is? To convey some sort of message that comes from the free-flowing emotion from within of a particular individual to share with an audience?

Yes. So if I was to smear shit all over a wall and was able to some how connect that with some emotion that I wanted to convey…that would be considered art?

Yes, to yourself and some others who see your shit on the wall in the same manner as you do.

I think that’s just a hippie way of thinking when it comes to art because, yes, I do agree with you when you say that art is art essentially, but I also think that nowadays that so many so-called artists aren’t classically trained in traditional art and the history of art which makes their art pieces…almost…I don’t know…empty in a way. Does that make sense?

Plenty. How can someone attempt to be the greatest writer in the literature without reading some of the work of the most influential authors, right?

Right.

So are you classically trained in art?

Nope.

So do you think that the art that you do is empty because you’re not classically trained like how you said?

Perhaps. Maybe that’s why I’m so self conscious about showcasing my art. That’s also probably why I don’t consider myself an artist.

Well, are you going to continue practicing art then?

Yeah.

So what does this change if anything?

Absolutely nothing I guess.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Thu, 17 Nov 2005 05:58:42 GMT

So a couple of things:

I had my first public art showing…I guess. It was honestly nothing big, but it definitely was a big deal for me because I usually don’t show a lot of people my artwork since I’m kind of a pussy about it. No body bought anything, but some people who are into the art business checked out my art work and said some positive stuff about it.

[Shit…it’s a start.]

My work place got a fat grant for three art murals that I’ll be helping with for my youth group in producing. This essentially means that I’ll be getting an extra stipend for being an “art consultant.” I’m getting paid!

[Fuck yeah biotchees.]

My english professor at SFSU knowing that I was into art is allowing me to submit a artistic piece instead of an English paper for a book that I didn’t read at all, and he’s probably going to let me do this for the rest of the semester.

Clickaty clow!

The number of art pieces that I’ve completed has been growing. At this point, I’m just trying to build up as many art pieces so that I can put on an actual art show…which reminds me that my friend, Steve, told me that he knows a guy who goes to the Academy of Art Institute who sets up and holds art shows. That’s next on my To-Do list…but it’s still going to take some time and support from other people.

END TRANSMISSION.