owenSoft.net - Logbook

54 - 46 (was my number) (Logbook)

2008-10-08 12:08:14

Its not that I have a problem with waiting, I just have things to do, except when there is a hurricane. Which is why I like hurricanes so much. Ideas come to me in my sleep like nightmares - suddenly and sporadically like a monkey. I have to rid myself of them or they'll fester. People will then notice that I'm not listening to what they have to say, but instead writing little notes on the back of my hand.

People tend to say the same things, over and over, in slightly different ways. Like flashing lights. Don't be surprised that I'm not surprised when you say that you got kicked in the ovaries - you had it coming. Karma Police. Your a bueatiful child. Someone is trying to tell you something. They are writing messages on the walls and sidewalks of the places we live. We can dance if we want to, we can leave your friends behind, 'Cause your friends don't dance and if they don't dance, Well they're no friends of mine.

Yesterday my sedentary lifestyle was interrupted by an extended meeting up at the water pond. Followed by a "lunch road trip". Followed by a post meeting road trip. Followed by a transportation detour. All these accompanied by indefinite periods of waiting. All I have to say is that I'm not pleased. Compounded by the fact that I have to be staying up late at night getting high like paper.

By owen on Logbook

God Does Answer Prayers (Logbook)

2008-09-19 21:54:13

There is this man at school who has been trying endlessly to get with some of the students from last year;I just happen to be one of those students.I have ridiculed,ignored and even taken advantage of the fact that he wants to get with me.When I left the school I was so overjoyed. I bought myself lunch at Fridays and topped it off with a slice of Coconut cake at Devon House. But then due to circumstances beyond my control I have to return to the same school and guess what he will still be there.I stood in disaray as I watched my hopes falling to the floor like a glass;shattered to pieces.

A conversation developed between us where in which I was told that he is ignoring me because I broke his heart. I laughed so hard I nearly fell off the chair that I sat on. How can I break something that wasnt whole in the first place? His heart is in little bits and pieces and he cant put it back together because he cant find the missing pieces of the puzzle he calls a heart.

While trying to talk his way into the cold dark vacuum that now occupies the spot where my heart used to be a young lady walked in. Now,this young lady isnt more than 16 and he is 30 something. They start talking he whispers in her ears and stuff next thing I know she start writing down digits. So I was like watch him. Typical Male! As I could say that;while turning off the AC he hit up his genitals. All I could say is God does answer prayers.

By crazychick on Logbook

Memories forever cherished! (Logbook)

2008-09-17 22:16:17

Memories forever cherished are the memories that were created while I was around you.They will go unaltered,unchanged,frozen in reality but constantly moving in my thoughts.If I had a picture frame I would frame it for the world to see.

These memories have taught me to push every minute to the limit.To cherish and savour every second that I get to spend with someone dear to me.I spent a moment with you where,the world stopped spinning for a while.At that moment I had a whole new perception,a different view of you.I was captivated in your eyes.I saw me through you."beauty is in the eyes of the beholder."I became aware of my beauty in your eyes!

If I could do it all over again would I do it the same way?A question I often ask myself. Yes,I would try to correct the mistake that I made.In regards to the moments that we spent together,the verbal exchange we had on the phone I remain untouch, all I would do is pray,hope and work towards us having some more moments like the ones that we had.

By crazychick on Logbook

Warwick Avenue (Logbook)

2008-09-12 17:15:21

It was about the same time as I took the picture (or a little after) that I got the message that my phone is out of storage space. A shock ran through my body as if a warm, fresh batch of dog urine had seeped up through my socks. It had to happen sooner or later as if by design. Now I have to put to rest everything that is in the phone, get a new one, start a new, way more fresher. It has to die for it's sins.

Every since I got it I had been taking "in the moment" pictures. Little slices of time and space like a fat girl loves cake. So that in the end, I can pull a clean sheet out of my pocket and write down all that we have achieved, all that we have seen, cause we are nothing but the sum of the things we give away. To whom much is given, much is tested.

Usually when this happens it leads to a war with myself as to what to get next. The devil will try to break me down. Only time will tell what dreams may come. A game in my mind, Sharona. Usually in my head the battle is the between the wise decision and the stupid decision. The functionality over design, the simplicity over art. There is never a perfect choice but lots chances to settle.

By owen on Logbook

The Jackal (Logbook)

2008-08-29 23:00:12

I was eating lunch down stairs with the other people because sometimes its hard to be hungry and to haul your food up to the third floor just so that you can watch television and socialize with the people you work and play dominos with every, single, day, of, the, week. I have to spread the love around. That hurricane was over promoted.

It is almost like being in a cage and people constantly passing it, buying vowels and saying good morning in somewhat of a "drive-by" fashion. Did you improve on the design? Did you do somethin' new? When you live in a constantly changing world you get bored easily. I don't talk alot. Which maybe a surprise to many, that I, (of all biological beings) would have the capacity to be bored. But it happens.

Tommorow will you bring me sorrow? Stay and say you love me? Will you change your mind. Everything is slightly different for some strange reason but nobody else seems to notice that the sun took a little bit longer to rise this morning. Or that 5 white cars are parked across the road. These things annoy me endlessly.

By owen on Logbook

Uptown Top Ranking (Logbook)

2008-08-15 21:09:39

I've seen that same look in your eyes before. Against my better judgement I've been playing dominos at work. Way into the odd hours of the night. I know you think its pointless but I've yet to see the bat movie. So how somethings always comes up. I forget. Mi naw pop no style, a strickly roots. Love is all I bring inna mi kahki suit and ting.

Domino is a simple game. Often totally dependent on the luck of the draw. But all it takes is one simple, insignificant mistake, by an over zealous opponent and a six love dat unda dem skin. You can feel it coming from a mile away. I am not perfect, I've had my share but I mek sure that everybody's name is up on the craftily design scoreboard that the idlers over in IT put up. No one is immune. Next thing it'll be on the intranet.

I've been accussed of hustling but I am probably the least knowledgable in the game of dominos. I only know enough to win and to annoy the poor sould that is under the wrath of hand. Its not a matter of you verses me. Its just a game, its not like I'm ignoring you. Netball is a violent game.

By owen on Logbook

Ace of Spades (Logbook)

2008-08-05 21:02:07

So I went to the supermarket. You'll never find a sentence more profound. Instantly the gears in your mind start to turn. Douging sales people hiding in the ailes is becoming harder that ever. Axe deorderant sales people dressed like dominatrix policeman and pregnant women selling snack drinks that have nothing but water, coloring and 100% vitamin C. Buy 4 get one free. I avoided my second set just as I crossed the household products. With my two samples in hand I indicated that I had already been hustled by thier compadraes in baked goods.

You got to give alittle, take a little. Funny how rain keeps falling on the weekends. Must be something in the air.

Aside from maybe non poisonous snakes and oysters, turtles might actually be the most boring pets ever. Their favorite day to day activites include sleeping, eating and trying to escape the confines of their boring lives like caged monkeys. I constantly have to check if they are dead or have accidently eaten the rocks. I imagine saving for their college education should not be a problem.

By owen on Logbook

Fortunate Son (Logbook)

2008-07-21 22:19:28

Today we lost power on the entire third floor. I had forgotten how it is to work in a totally unpredictable environment - no silver spoon. It was right about lunch time, so I left my desk and proceded to talk to everybody who would pass my desk when I working and annoy me. First there was the girl from the office downstairs haven't seen her in weeks probably thinks I am avoiding her - she still doesn't know my name. Then there are the interns happy and bright eyed, born made to wave the flag.

Then there is the other woman that never leaves her desk, shes cool. We chatted about the view and the fact that office next door is built on something that somewhat seems like a slave plantation - silver spoon in hand. She was abducted, probably sold so I moved on, power still not back. Some guys opened the fire escape, disrupting the darkness and were apparently plotting a double suicide - bored I went to get pictures. However, they were chatting up the lunch lady. She was a brick house. It ain't me.

Then there is my most closest neighbor, cutting up veges in the office sink for lunch. Health nut. Reminishing on when they left high school, was it 82 or 79? We talked about kids and how it was when we were young, then now, apartments, gated communities and maps. Maps confuse her. I however take great pleasure in maps - Kingston has too many roads.

By owen on Logbook

Paranoid Android (Logbook)

2008-07-11 11:07:28

Surprisingly no sooner had I sat down I felt the need to sleep. I was missing something, something I could not readily conceive. it was as if I woke on the wrong side of the bed and had left it a mess for the pass 5 weeks only to just now be coming to the realisation that I had truly never stopped sleeping.

I started reading about planets far and wide, trying to prevent my mind from stalling and falling to earth without the proper coordinates of my bed. It wasn't enough, time was passing slowly, every minute increasing difficult to maintain consiousness. I could attempt a solution but I fear and unfocused mind may only prove to accidentally erase any constructive thought which have been formulated on the subject - so I left the problem alone.

All I could remember from the past was that I woke up and that was probably the point when I forgot to make the bed which only proved to confuse me more when a faint memory reminded me of something that I had to do. There I was perplexed, sleepy and in the presence of other people who are much better pretenders than I am. I was pretty sure the TV was on because I could hear sound coming from it and also the annoying little whine that it makes but the screen was blank. After I passed the second time I asked them what was wrong with the tv. They said "nothing", with a look on their face like as if greeting a person from the country, "we are listening to the radio".

By owen on Logbook

Pop Lock and Drop It (Logbook)

2008-06-29 17:07:14

We and a random stripper were talking about cricket and how boring it is to watch compared to other sports such as basketball, football and something else. Party and Bullshit. Cricket was never really a spectator sport. Some people just relate to it more than others. I realise that my voyeuristic tendancy is much higher that others. Its a funny thing when you live in somebody else's reality - nothing really makes sense, you just go with the flow. Track field on the other hand is perfect spectator sport.

Then I went into western union to pay my child support when the teller asked me; "Where was the source of the funds". She had to ask me 3 more times before I realised that "murders and executions" was not the right answer. Government gots to be watching people's paper and taxing all the hos nowadays.

After that I went to the supermarket freezer hoping to find something to drink which hopefully contained more than one vitamin. Unfortunately I came to a rude awakening. Apparently, I'm living in a world full of fat people. EVERYTHING IN THE FRIDGE WAS DIET. Where have all the normal fatty processed foods gone? Its just a matter of time before the big secret corporations come up with a way to make diet chicken and vegetables. God only knows where I'm be without you.

By owen on Logbook

Good Life (Logbook)

2008-06-06 16:02:48

Mo money, mo problems. They say "the best things in life are free", that person was definately not talking about steamed fish. Drama! I often meet up on/with people who are very regimental. They like to do the same thing over and over again, except in slightly different ways and they tend to hate me because sometimes I MAY wake up early in the morning before the sun and decide to do something the other day instead of building a time machine, going back into the past and doing it the day before. Being swallowed in the sea a idocracy is not to my liking. So much to do so little time. Thank God it isn't snowing outside. Small mercies.

Back to regular life now, I haven't murdered my hair for a good month or so. I'm toying with the idea of just letting it grow out. Free and alive until my head becomes extremely big and people start plotting to do me harm - spin a web for me. Its remarkable how many people get murdered these days over meaningless drivel and parking spots. Just the other day I was looking through some bills when I knocked over my glass of Tropicana destroying any sense of order and prompting me to go to the Mega Mart to buy cake - it will make sense to you - eventually.

I was comparing apples and oranges yesterday while staring through the headache inducing wood fence that blocks my foggy view of the mountains. Apparently the builder-dude, carpenter or jesus himself thought it would look "cool", but never really sat down and tried to stare at a moving object through it. At which point he would realise that it is impossible for multi-eyed people to focus on anything at all outside without going completely crazy. Mysterious ways.

By owen on Logbook

Living Dangerously (Logbook)

2008-05-29 18:22:19

When I arrived - the first time they (the woman behind the glass door) said I had to make an appointment. I think she just wanted to cramp my style. "Tomorrow" I replied with a smile, popped my collar and dusted the dirt off my shoulder like a pimp with a lollipop and a little collie weed. "Only Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays" she replied stabbing me in the heart, sensing that I was in a rush and a habitual late comer. Darkness. I could not tell what she was about, had not cards to put on her table.

Two weeks later I arrived again - early (which should have struck me as a sign of doom) only to see people waiting in the lobby, painted yellow with green chairs and magazines on a shelf in the corner. Apparently here scheduled time is merely a means of crowd control and nothing else. Apparently this was one of those afternoon centric offices.

The thing about waiting in the lobby is that they fail to get new magazines. I found myself reading through 4 year old editions of cosmopolitan, laptop tech, women's health, womens fitness, healthy living and a teen pop magazine - which I can't remember - which explains alot. I was lost in my copy of cosmo when the sexy little lady sitting across the way started looking at me weird - she was begging me to say something funny but I could sense she wasn't real - she was too much - a train wreck waiting to happen. It felt like I was there for 5 days when the doctor finally arrived - looking like she had just come back from a night on the town - pigeons and crumbs.

By owen on Logbook

Hemorrhage (Logbook)

2008-05-20 19:38:27

So I watch television and one of the shows I watch is The Real World on MTV. Now that the Anti-Christ has disconnected my cable company's feed I have nothing to do but write about the things I used to watch. Now this season Real World is full of crazy unattractive white people. I mean really, can't there be at least one fat ass black girl in America who is messed up enough to appear on that show? So if you don't know already The Real world is a show where they select seven people to live in a house together, unfortunately this season they selected the seven worst people EVER!

Now I know that crazy people make good TV but for heaven sakes at least have a balance of craziness. I imagine the producers of that reality show met around a big round table with orange juice and said "hmm lets see what combination of people will most likely result in so some sort of crime that we can catch on camera" - fall away leave me bleeding. Everybody wants a piece of everybody else.

The Real World is one of the only shows that I can still watch on MTV without feeling twice my age. Almost like yesterday when I was not at home early in the morning, hungry and island grill was closed. The only option was burger king I went in and noticed that the menu seemed odd or maybe I have never been in there this early in the morning, apparently its the breakfast menu and apparently the french toast combo meal on the menu is actually a slice of bread and hot water in a cup. :(

By owen on Logbook

Smiley Faces (Logbook)

2008-05-04 13:19:38

I am often asked how I find time to update this website, what stars direct my faith. Its not really hard. A focused mind can find anything. There is so much bueaty in the world. All that it requires is a little time to write it down, separate the clutter. At the base of it all, every song is a love song. Its all a matter of perspective, how you look at it or listen to it.

As I'm eating my calalloo rice out of a Styrofoam cup takes a very long time to decompose in the environment and has been documented to cause starvation in birds and other marine wildlife. If I had the time, a whole lot a money or if luck was a lady; I would rent a whole floor of the pan caribbean building - don't ask me why. When you live by the day, pay by the hour, and sleep on the weekends, you tend to lay in the bed that you made, die by what you live by. Passion is a curse.

I spent all of last week thinking up new application concepts and watching wild ants eat babies on Discovery - not really - they were eating chickens. Babies taste like chicken? I ask cause I'm not sure. I learn fast, so you don't really have to go into the details. Photographic memory tends to be a curse when you remember odd little details about everything and yet absolute nothing about others. It does wear me down at times, like a caged animal.

By owen on Logbook

We and dem (Logbook)

2008-04-20 22:26:29

I've been watching african movies on dvd since my cable company's feed was hyjacked by the latest monopoly - cream and bastards. I'm hooked on them like a baby on a well endowed milk machine - a monkey on a swing. There is no hesitation in these films for men to head butt women, jealous sisters marrying there dead sister's husbands, women fighting over men in supermarkets - its not the typical regurgitant I am accustomed to seeing on american cable or on profile for the last twenty one years. Cinderella gets her fair share of bad treatment.

African films live on a whole different set of rules; women typically stay at home, have babies and then get murdered or betrayed in some unusually conniving way. Only to return as ghosts to set things right. There are also a lot less curse word and they place a lot of emphasis on morals and ethics. Cursing is replaced with long sensitions of crying, well bawling would be a better word to describe the river of H2O that percipitates when anyone dies or gets slapped - did I mention how they like to slap alot? One girl got headbutted once, shot, burned with acided, given a letal injection and slapped at least once by every character in the movie, all because she was in love with the dude that president's daughter wanted. It was very painful to watch - I loved it - pure drama.

The films I've been watching seem to be from Ghana. Which may explain why the director keeps using the same actors over and over again - not that I'm complaining cause there apparently is no shortage of leading ladies with healthy backend support, thickness, camera crews, etc. Hair extentions are abundant but not quite as annoying as the fact that EVERY MOVIE IS A TWO PART SERIES. It is as if they can never finish slapping anybody in a hour and a half. Nothing is worst than watching part 1 and having the possiblity of NEVER SEEING THE CONCLUSION! I am enjoying still, if not only to see who will get murdered or slapped next, how and when the father will catch the son sleeping with his mistress who happens to be his wife's sister. The plot is never the same, which is good.

By owen on Logbook