Choose Our Own Adventure

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ALASKA [ryan]

March 21st, 2008 · 18 Comments


don’t tell me
to be

not that

i want
to be
other people.

even though
i hate
other people.

i hate

i don’t.

i do.

i switch
back and forth
from being
by people
to being
by them.

i both

i feel



i am
i am
of them
i am
the worst
of them
i am
the people
i avoid.

i am

how do people live?

i wish
i were

i wish
i could

other people rock.
other people suck.

other people sock.

I don’t know what that means.

i am


i wish
i had
other people’s

i wish
i were
other people

i wish
i could
just get over it
other people

i wish
i could
give it a break
cut it out
don’t do it
when I want to come to it
forget about it
grow up
be tough
roll over
tell the truth
lie about telling the truth
about lying
about the truth
of lying
to yourself

i wish
i could
of that
one thing
that makes this
all worth

i wish
you weren’t
so fucking

need to be

i wish

i wish
i wasn’t

i wish
i was
but not
the kind
the store

i wish

i wish
rock bottom
wasn’t so

i hope
you like
for seeming
to not
whether you
like me
or not.

i hope
you enjoy
over abuse

i am
other people.

for seriously.

i wish
i had

i wish
i had

i wish
i owned
your house.

i wish
i was
dave eggars.

i wish
i was
one big
of icy
land mass
with terrific
sport fishing

i wish
i was
Dr. Suess.

i wish
i didn’t
movie trailers
and then
go see those

i wish
i didn’t
try too hard.

i wish
i didn’t
try too hard
try too hard.

i wish
would pay
to be

i wish
i was
the only one
entered into
a contest
the prize was
all of china
and a bag
of cookies
and a car
and anything
that i wanted.

it’s not
so much
other people
that suck
as much as
their voices
in my head

i suck
for having
voices in my

that’s what
one of the
just said.

in my head.

fucking sucks.
stupid voices.

i wish
i had

i wish
other people
had morphine.

i wish
i was old
to stop
for shit.

i wish
i was
young enough
to wish for shit
and believe.

Tags: ryan matsumoto

18 responses so far ↓

  • 1 christy // Mar 21, 2008 at 4:18 pm

    ryan, i hope you feel better, but admire you for going into the depths of your feelings.

    i really like this part: “i wish rock bottom wasn’t so bottomless”

    i like it all actually, but that particular line i needed to jot down on paper

  • 2 ryan // Mar 21, 2008 at 5:45 pm

    it’s weird, but i never have felt better… for right now…ok, so it comes and goes… did I mention i must be bi-polar….honestly, one minute, it’s the best ever, like right now…and then it’s crazy scary world all over again…this BLOG is my medicine…

    the truth is:
    any time you see me HAPPY, there’s always an underlying sliver of me trying to convince myself to be happy, while the other part of me is just trying to ACTUALLY be happy, but you know, it’s always the both, never just the happy, never happy ALL BY ITSELF, and so by talking it out, writing it down, making it into something silly or something FUN HOUSE or crazy or rhythmic or colorful or twisted or fucked up, I somehow make that undeniable sliver of TRYING TO BE HAPPY part of me GO AWAY a little bit, at least for a window of time… for just enough time to get me to bedtime, where i can safely PASS OUT from all the humanity of being awake and then look forward to the next day where i get to do it all over again…make stuff…erase stuff…distract myself

    bottomless line:

    I feel like I am giving birth to a new self, but HE’s COMING out of my ASSHOLE, or so it seems, so I sometimes think HE’S SHIT, but he’s not, he just likes SURPRISE ENTRANCES, fucking attention whore, anyway, I feel like through all this honesty, especially sharing it in front of all y’all, I feel like this has helped me to start the birthing process, and the practical hope is that NEW ME will also have a SHOW or some ACTUAL PRODUCT that HE CAN SELL, a product of his newly found fearlessness–well, that’s the plan anyway–so that he can continue to survive, albeit against his own will…but at least he’ll be doing what he loves the most and that’s fucking making his undeniable suicidal tendencies into something useful, since they are in fact, undeniable…it’s really a novel idea i feel, at least for me…i’ve always tried to hide these feelings, because, well, who wants to be the fucking buzzkiller at the social gathering right? but there’s something inside of me that says “what else is there to talk about?” anyway, i get it, i get it, suicide depresses and scares people, but hello, this world is the thing, this world is the scary thing, not the desire to leave it, anyway, I don’t mind the agreement I have officially made with society, even though society doesn’t really know this yet, but um, I’m going to talk about what i want to talk about, always…I’m goign to speak my mind…but I promise to try and say it in a way that can be useful for all of us, I’ll try to entertain, in my own way, I’m not doing any more monkey dances for cash, although, maybe a few more this month as I just bought that automatic banana peeler and matching monkey jump suit, but after that, that’s it, I’m only doing stuff that I want tot do, but I’ll try to at least make it FUN, or SEXY or TOTALLY UGLY, but avant garde, ok society, deal?

    When the happy is here Christy, it is here in full glory.

    Today is perfect.

    I can’t wait to see you all at home soon.


  • 3 christy // Mar 21, 2008 at 6:54 pm

    i’ve had a lot of cancellations today, so your guys’ website is keeping me company for the time being… ryan, you make me remember how much i love conversations with you because they always make my mind go into 100 different tangential directions and leave me with so many questions. it’s a little overwhelming, but definitely fun.

    1. did you know that most new mothers i’ve talked to compare the feeling of giving birth to taking the biggest shit of their life?

    2. i hear you about the underlying sliver. it seems that there’s always an underlying sliver of something else going on all the time… i think it’s due to the multifaceted nature of the human mind/being.

    3. i’d like to hear more about the “new [you].” do you really think you’ll birth the new you? what about the old you? why get rid of him? or will you keep them both? i guess that’s the way it goes though, doesn’t it? look at fashion. we’re updating the old all the time and making it “new” all over again.

    4. i’ll end here. i’ve got the “be a good worker” guilt kicking in and the shyness about being so public as well.

    glad today is great. it is after all good friday, so here’s to the good!

    see you soon. take care, all of you. (is the doggie coming home too?)

  • 4 ryan // Mar 21, 2008 at 10:24 pm

    boo. no doggie.

    4. the new me is always part old me. The new me is usually a recombining of old me parts. It’s almost as if, there is a self that is in all of us, AT ALL TIMES, and it’s already fucking JEDI, it’s the self that we like best, the one that kicks ass the most, and most of us CAN’T CONJURE that kick ass best self as much as we’d like to be able to, at least NOT when it counts, and so really, this new self that I keep blathering about is this idea, that maybe this next phase of recombining my old me parts will hopefully result in an effortless state of being in my best self, at MOSt times, a self that is able to be honest to himself and others about his very logical feelings about this GOD FORSAKEN PLACE, and still get paid, stay out of jail, and set a reasonable daily limit for jerking off, obviously.

    and all this means in practical terms is that I’m building PRODUCTS, PRESENTATIONs, PERFORMANCES, something, ANYTHING to FUNNEL my SUICIDAL THOUGHTS into something that feeds me, both actually and metaphorically, as it has become too TAXING to pretend any longer for money, for people, for fucksake.

    yes, it is just fashion. the fashion of ourselves.

    We just want to fit in with ourselves.

    We just want to slow dance with ourselves and not be embarrassed.

    We just want to hang our old selves on trees, naked, out there, for all the world to see, unashamed of our sacrifice, hoping that the new self will not have to be THAT noble, and can just fly to heaven and never return, despite our promises to…

  • 5 ryan // Mar 21, 2008 at 10:26 pm

    happy good friday…

  • 6 kathie13nj // Mar 22, 2008 at 12:00 pm

    okay, so I hate people - I have no “five” on my phone - I love myself…I hate others….friends are high maintenance - they want, the NEED, they call, they don’t leave me in solitude, they don’t know the code of “oh, I have to answer my call waiting” or “someone is ringing the doorbell” (when it’s only me doing it) REALLY means “HANG UP - I’M DONE TALKING TO YOU”….don’t call me in five minutes to finish your thought because I reallly don’t want to hear it - if I had I would’ve listened on the phone instead of checking my email, paying my bills & or taking a shit.

    I would be perfectly happy to live in Kaneana Cave - well if it had electricity, and A/C, and running water, and a toilet, and well, a computer with the internet, and a front door, and well, okay so maybe not a cave, but, maybe a $500,000 cave, but you get the idea…no neighbors, solitude, a beautiful view, with all the modern conveniences….just no peoples….because well, I just don’t like people…

  • 7 kimi // Mar 22, 2008 at 6:18 pm

    I want everyone in the world to read this blog.

    I know I always say “this is my favorite blog ever”

    and it is.

  • 8 ryan // Mar 24, 2008 at 1:43 pm


    i miss my favorite palolo titas!

    kimi, I have not forgotten, we are still mid-conversation, can’t wait to finish it in a few weeks!

    be home first week of april for one week.

    love love love

  • 9 ryan // Mar 24, 2008 at 2:52 pm


    you know, RIGHT NOW, I am totally CYBERnating in my CAVE, as it were, and I do feel you, you know, MOST people are NOT COMPATIBLE with me, at least thus far, you know, circa birth, or so it seems to me anyway, and that makes this CAVE time especially valuable…but I do think that the CAVE is temporary, like a cocoon, and maybe, after my alleged metamorphosis, I’ll be able to fly, and then, maybe people won’t be so, um, unpleasant, when I’m flying, because well, I’ll be too busy flying. I don’t mind people, just as long as I don’t have to die with them, their whole lives, working side by side with them, digging our own graves together, just because we’re being paid a steady salary to do it, working in cubicles and rocking shiny plastic electronic ear pieces, saying shit we don’t mean, fuck, fuck fuck, anything but that, you know? but it’s not the people themselves. none of us know better. we are trying are best. we all are made out of the same stuff, and unfortunately we happen to be allergic to it, or so it seems.

    to the extent that we hate other people, is to the extent that we hate this species, and to the extent we hate ourselves, and to the extent that we are aware.

    we are parasites.

    we are parasites trying to make being a parasite beautiful, because we are also part crazy from being a parasite for so long.

    we need life to be beautiful, we need it to be. it’s too ugly to not make it be beautiful. and so we deny the real world and make our own.

    enter: the CAVE.

    this is what I’m doing: making my own world.

    for now, it seems easier to do in my CAVE.

    but soon,
    maybe i can get some people to pay me, and maybe EVEN understand what I’m saying, to the point where I can start to DEAL with these other people, and maybe even make some friends, REAL FRIENDS, out of these other people out there, outside of my CAVE, who I’ll be able to share this world with, and they won’t try to tell me all the reasons why balloons and children’s laughter make this life all worth it, because i fucking hate that speech, HATE THAT FUCKING SPEECH, due to the level of its deep deep retardation, which is essentially why i hate dealing with other people in the first place, having to deal with people’s inability to even ask the question to themselves–IS LIFE WORTH IT?–without knee jerking themselves into some auto response based totally on FEAR and an absence of any LOGIC–but you know, maybe if I could finally build that ART bridge towards people, you know, maybe if i could explain myself and this paradigm, this FUCK THIS WORLD view which I can’t help but see anyway, maybe, you know, if i tell them these things, these things about death and how life sucks, and that, you know–maybe that doesn’t have to be the worse thing, I mean, maybe our only REAL HOPE IS IN HOPELESSNESS, OR WHATEVER, maybe it’s our instinctive but misleading hope in the hopeless that causes all the dissonance in life, the pain, I mean, I’m just saying, I think I have a way at looking at the world, that may be able to actually help other people, help them with their pain, maybe, considering the situation we have all found ourselves stuck in, and these are thoughts that I can’t help but to be obsessively plagued by anyway, you know, i mean, no matter how hard I’ve tried, they just keep thinking themselves out loud in my head, these thoughts–so maybe if i just say my true thoughts, no matter how unmarketable they may seem to be right now… in this particular format you know…maybe if I let this CAVE time transform me and my words into a silly song or poem or film or dance or painting., something that eventually the other people will understand… maybe i can kill two selves with one stoner? i don’t know what that means.

    look. the plan: build a bridge between myself and other people. We need to understand each other. we need to help each other. i don’t want other people’s thoughts rubbing off on me, but i DO want them to catch fish for me and maybe get gas for my car and make some clothes for me and make my house in such a way that it won’t be huffed and puffed down. i am too lazy for all of this. so as a compromise, I have decided to please society somehow, while still pleasing myself–this is the bridge. this is the conundrum we all face: how do we stay sane, working for other people? how do i please just the right amount of other people so that i can still please myself just the right amount? what is my bridge to other people? how can i give them what they want, so they can give me what i want, without having to endure too much of what i don’t want?

    My bridge is FUCK YOU WORLD.

    most people build HELLO KITTY bridges, POP SONG bridges, MASS MARKETING bridges…

    hey, whatever works…

    but for me…working on certain bridges cause too much PRETENDING…not worth it.

    what’s my bridge?

    well, instead of covering up the truth to please the people, to get the money, to survive…
    I’m going to tell the people what I think they already know DEEP dEEP DOWN inside–fucking better eat that ice cream now, better skydive now, better fuck who you want to now, better SAY it, say whatever it is you gots to say, because there is nothing WORTH waiting around for, WE ARe FUCKING DYING!!

    this is my bridge.

    accompanied by guitar and a unicycle and converse tap shoes.

    yes, this is my plan. a plan that i’ve created against my own will, against my “better judgement”–since i can’t pretend any longer. since i hate dealing with other people under any other pretense. this is my next move. i don’t really know what the fuck I’m doing, but at least i know that, right?

    i don’t fucking know.

  • 10 kathie13nj // Mar 28, 2008 at 11:06 pm

    Hhhhmmmmm, well, I’m tearing down the bridge after I go across to my private paradise isle and then I’ll use the wood from the bridge that I tore down to build a boat so that when I want to have contact with others I will board my boat and row myself ashore then I will cross in my boat and throw rocks at the billy goat gruff and the troll under the bridge (that are now homeless because I tore down the bridge) and make sure they don’t try to fall down the rabbit hole and slide into my cave in my paradise….

  • 11 kathie13nj // Mar 28, 2008 at 11:11 pm

    I’ve got the perfect quote for your career blues….courtesy of a terrible teen movie (Say Anything)…the movie was really bad….

    “I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don’t want to do that. “

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