The Miseducation of Patrick Hetic

I adore her and miss her and it's only been a few hours.

mine.

this is what contenment truly is. huh.

Nothing happens but it feels like lots does. Lots of emotion thrown about for someone who works mediocre jobs in shopping malls or sits around watching bad movies. I smoke a lot of fuckin' cigarettes, I can't really afford it but I don't see any signs of stopping. Am I angry, blissful, crazy, in love, in denile, in trouble, insane? Am I worrying because it's all new or do I worry because I have grounds to? I have nothing to Fear but Fear itself and Fear is fucking scary.

I want to kill these people who keep sticking their asses into my life, uninvited. Can't I escape these demons of the summer or are they going to pitchfork into my life every chance they get for the next forever? Can't I escape Wild 94.9? For the love of god, please say yes. Fuck! These fuckers must perish.

(portion of entry deleted for personal reasons and prevention of blowing everything)

As mine could burn in the bowles of hell for all eternity, her's is missed and it's hard not to blame yourself for not neccisarilly ruining but definitely motivating the inevitable. I'm torn into that being good or wrong.

But hey, Thanksgiving is coming. Dead slaughtered ugly bird day. I work Black Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Fuck you Christmas!!!! WHY MUST YOU COME NOW!? I DONT WANT TO WORK RETAIL AROUND CHRISTMAS!? FUCK YOU JESUS! WHY COULD YOUR VIRGIN ASS MOM HAVE PINCHED IT TIGHT FOR A FEW MONTHS!? IT COULDNT HAVE BEEN HARD FOR HER!? FUCK!

...Holidays at Spencer Gifts 2005.
Nazi Nazi Holidays.

and that's that. People suck, Im afraid, Lacey should die, I hate shopping.

See ya in a week.
-Pat

Okay, I officially lost all Credability as a human being.
I now work at Hot Topic and Spencer's in the Capitola Mall.
MALLCORE LIKE WHAT.

uhh.
Anarcho.
lame.
Im lame.
Uber lame.
I fold well.
Which makes me lame.
Bummer.

So if anyone needs a blow-up penis or a my chemical romance t-shirt.
Im your man.
Sadly.

This town seems to be based on a platform of empty promises. Not to each other, or for material possession but to oneself. Promises like I’m going to get out of here and I’m not going to end up 24 doing the same things I did when I was a junior in High School. This Vapid hole of false success is uncanny. Stuck in rut for decades on end, reminiscing about the best years of your life being four lousy awkward public school years, obligated by the state. Does anyone remember how much high school sucked or are they perversed by the simplicity of not having to work for money? If your Sophomore English teacher saw you in your mid-thirties would they still say you have potential? The stab in the front is never noticed but everyone lets the wound bleed and they don’t recognize the fact they threw themselves upon the knife. You educate yourself to brag, not for ones own gain or ones door to escape, but solely for the fact that you can impress peers you acquired during state regulated education. The same donut shop, the same clique, the same pool hall, or park, the same beer, the same smiles, the same depression medications and the same fucking drama and shit talking you enjoyed while you were in 8th grade still pissed off that your mother made you clean your room and that the popular girl got the guy you thought was cute before you knew what love was. Destruction of personal potential wrapped in the safe little blanket of remaining “cool” to the people who found you funny in High School. Still striving for the most pictures in the post-community college yearbook. Still going to the Little Big Game and knowing all the cheers, still singing the fight song from the High School you used to love to cut at. Still wondering what’s next and holding grudges to people you got mad at before you could drive. I need more. I need something else, whether it be “escape” from the black hole, before I’m fully engulfed or opening my eyes to the inevitable plunge I’m taking and utilizing it for everything it’s worth. Artistic inspiration, lyric, novel. Smile at the broken systematic life that people lead before me and exploit how much so many can relate to it. I need to be more and say more with a better soap box.

Not just a livejournal post.
More than this.

(You know, when I was in high school, I hated the green squiggly lines that showed up every time I wrote too. I need to get passed that and recognize my inability to use proper grammar while I’m ranting. And Even if Microsoft Word doesn’t like Fragment sentences, I sure as shit do. Fuck you Bill Gates. I’m over being consumed by what I was in high school, I am well aware of my idiosyncrasies and I am working on them.)

I have a fuckin job interview with Hot Topic today. Im glorious.

Oh jesus.

And this is a long long, long Quizzie thing that no one should read.
(I know, I suck)

( Well, Fuck A Duck, Here I go. )

I have now been with, like physically with, Nicole for over 36 hours now. I went to school with her and drew cartoons in my school shootings shirt! People stared but I didn't care because they probably were just mesmerized by the ora that is spawn while I cartoon. That's just how cool I be. That's how I roll. Homie Homie! She is going to dye my goat blue today. (Im gunna look like a douchefuck. but hey!) I was playing the guitar too. I suck balls at it, but I do know one Nirvana song. So that makes me....even less cool. Right. Great. I wrote Corey a note that said "Hi Corey!" on it and it had a stupid puffy anime ball on it saying "Happi Fun Time."

Holy slutfuck, I ate Rickshaw's last night. Cream the pants central. Spareribs are the SHIZNITE! Thank yous go out to Kallee for letting me tattoo her for money. I did these sick ass vines down her shoulders, it was sick. Im really psyched on them. Portfolio.

Someone send me tons of money and alcohol to make all my dreams come true.
Someday, I want to turn into a Bird and fly far far away.
But that's only because some retarted guy with leg braces keeps following me around.

If you couldnt tell, I havent had epic events happen and I'm pretty shit bored because Nicole is talking to her mom about how amazing and smart I am. So I'll let them. For now.

Except I did get laid 2 days in a row.
That's pretty fuckin sweet.

Alright.
That's it.
Fuck Off.

(I still can't fuckin believe I have a Livejournal.)

I'm pretty angry right now. That big chinned, no brained, womanizing, dipshit we replaced the other back stabbing, money hoarding, financial reject with has blown my mind to new excitements. Unlike his roll in Total Recall, this bullshit, poor ridden, polluted, bankrupt state isn't going to be easy to save. But at least he's not focusing on important issues like healthcare or education, he gets to focus on Abortion and raping the elderly of their medicare. We elected a giant, muscle-headed, Bush for our own state government. Fuck the real issues, let's jam the christian right's moral agenda down the throats of every citizen every goddamn election. Facist Nazi Bastards. Like Schwartzenegger never convinced a girl get an abortion. That fucking womanizing, shaved, fake tanned, date rapist. Too Bad they didnt ban it sooner, than she could never have gotten one, The douchebag could have a child with numerous different people and NEVER HAVE RUN FOR A POLITICAL SEAT! Fucking hell, we elected the star of Kindergarten Cop for our fucking governor. Conan the goddamn Barbarian, as the leader of the most liberal state in the union. And now we await the consequence, CAHLIFORNAH is fucked.

I fucking thought Gray Davis was incompetant and evil but in comparrison, He's significally the lesser of 2 evils. and his voice alone dosent make me want to vomit.

Fuck you Schwartzenegger and Fuck your obdiant little wife.

OMG My life is fucka hell.

(Obligatory LJ post)

Nicole and I just broke up.

My heart fucka can't take this, Ok?!

bleeding tears of a busted enema

Nicole and I are officially a couple now. How gay are we?

LJ posts. Nigga. Current events.

Uhhhh!

Mine.

No Natural Wonders here at all,
just car dealerships and shopping malls.
Liquor Stores and Fast Food Shops,
and angry eyes from passing cops.
The streets are lined with piss and speed.
and the driveways full of flashy greed.
Not much to do when you dont brag.
So I Sit around Bored Off My Ass.

A 40 or 3 can make the night run quicker.
A piss in the park with a bottle of liquor.
and a cigarette to light up the swings.
Back and forth, till the pigs get mean.
Not much to do but get paid and laid.
and buy more shit to fill our graves.
No Northern Lights or Big Surs to see.
Just junked up pregnant teens and apathy.

Pool Hall Pits stops and bars that don't card.
and a swagger home after a puke in the yard.
and I often wish there was more to see,
but I couldnt think of anything better even with money.
The world is full of Open signs,
and speed bumps and bank lines.
and you wake, work, drink and goto sleep.
A life, a world of apathy.
Occasionally theres a wonder in the sky.
But they usually come every century
and they're far too high.
or you cant stare because it will burn your eyes.
so the kids fuck up, then keel over and die.

The bodies fill the gutters, and the supermarket eiles.
and the movie theater is the place to hide em.
so when your walking to the closest ATM.
You dont have to think about how you just stepped over them.

No colors in the horizion to catch my eyes.
So Im bored off my ass, loving "Born to Die"

-P. Hetic.


STOP THE EMO ZOMBIES

To tune in too much can be dangerous. As is letting in, but I can't tell the difference between prying my way in and letting things unfold anymore. Do I probe, unknowingly, unwillfully and aggresively or Do I just see more than I should? This opiated sense of both success, approval and tresspassing is becoming a slight burdon again. She may know too much.

"I'll call you when Nicole is Dead."

but shit, Im quite in the mood for a shift. After months of chaotic, self inflicted, hellworthy, "love" I've had to endure every current issue is going to seem like a goddamn breeze! No more strife. No more dissapproval of over gained knowledge. No more discouraging comments about how I'll amount to nothing and how comics, tattoos, and lyric barely constitute as career choice.

I haven't had one of these since junior year. That's a good 3 years ago. Son of a Bitch. I remember how much frigin' drama this Fox News worthy of a website idea caused. No one is gunna read this shit, unless I'm a fucking solider. Then all the sudden, my blogging becomes a national new source. Maybe I should pretend to be a solider, a one eyed hindu solider name Christoph who has just changed religions and really like capitalism but the key conflict is that mean soliders pick on me and everyone they shoot they say "Sorry Chris, was that your dad?!" and I would have to respond, "I'm fucking hindu, not arabic. You white redneck bastards!" eventually slaughtering everyone on the base in the night like a deranged, mass murdering, hindu Private Pile. Bill O'Reilly would jump on that shit like leperacy medication. There's no fucking way that asshole dosen't have leperacy. That blochy fuck, that blubbering vagina. (Sorry, Copyright Infrindgement, Al Franken did not give me right to quote him indirectly.)

Patrick Hetic is now officially a true blue Scenester. Livejournal. You're fuckin lucky I like you. (and Im curious and intrigued by Private posting.)

How the fuck do I edit this background.

Entry 1: Fuckin' Complete.