Posts Tagged ‘Anger’

Some days I wonder why I even get out of bed in the morning.  Things would be far better if I just stayed under my warm covers on my comfortable mattress with my cat sleeping at my feet.  Life would just be so much easier.   Yet every morning I drag myself out of bed and for the most part force myself to make the most of the meager sphere of influence I exist in.

Sure my life seems pretty simple to all of you sitting at home or in your cubicle reading my drivel to kill time or what have you.  Most people have responsibilities, a sense purpose or even just a need for a sense of purpose to keep them going.  I don’t have that.  I get up day in and day out, punch the clock for eight and half hours at a mindless job that a monkey could do if properly trained and sanitized.  Meanwhile over the past four years I have watched my sanity slowly slip away.  This is another entity I am very ok with.  A sane man in an insane world cannot be sane.

The majority view me as insane yet I view the majority and how they behave to be crazy.  Just like that I mentally dropped out of society.  The problem with living in your own world is the consequences of what happens when your fantasy world collides with the “real world”.  This is a terrible predicament I find myself constantly reliving over and over again.  Two steps forward followed by another ten steps back.  I am not going to lie most of, if not all of it is my own damn fault.  It took me thirty years of my life to finally take the blame for my own actions.

I am a bad decision maker.  Let me rephrase that.  I don’t think they are bad decisions they just don’t fall into line with those of the mainstream thus ultimately that difference of view I have on things makes them bad decisions.  One can always justify his own actions in his own mind after all.  From time to time these bad decisions come back to haunt me. It is for that reason I shall always be caught in the rapture of myself.

At the moment I sort of have a pile of bullshit suffocating me.  It is taking all of my physical, emotional and mental strength to keep on.  If I have not had much to say here I am sorry for that.  I have been advised that it would be very adverse to talk about what is going on in a public forum such as this.  For now I need to keep it all inside, which has never been healthy .  I promise that when everything is said and done I will elaborate in many, many words here.

Just know that I am fine and surviving.  This too will pass.  It is not for those in troubled times to remorse on how they got there, it is only for them to use the time they are given to do their best to persevere   What I will say is that I have not been hitting the bottle as a result of what is going on and nor have I been tempted to.  I think I crawled into a bottle long enough over the past two years and now that I have crawled out I am not about to fall back in.  I will try to keep writing my usual stuff here.  Just know that I have a lot on my plate at the moment and it is taking up the bulk of my concentration.  As always if your hard up I do update the surflog every day.

Yeah this pretty much describes how I feel at the moment, damned if I do, damned if I dont.

Yeah this pretty much describes how I feel at the moment, damned if I do, damned if I dont.

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I’m angry, well saddened mostly, borderline depressed?  I guess that is how it has always been for me, for as long as I can remember.  I don’t think I am a monster, yet I find myself constantly in the midst of being despicable.  Can one be predestined for unhappiness?  For a long time I thought I was evil.  I know now that it is not the case.  I am just pissed off at the world, a world I was never meant to be a part of.

I am a part of this terrene and there for make the best of it most of the time.  I have yet to find anything better.  Most days I find the motivation to get out of bed seriously lacking.  Still I trudge on.  I tell myself “keep on, things are going to get better”. I mean I have to cause it is what I tell everyone else in my life.  I hate lying to my parents that everything is fine, so instead I stopped calling them altogether.  No one likes a pity party and it does them no good to worry.

My dad called me today to find out if I was still alive.  This happens about once ever two weeks or so when I break contact.  He gave me a pep talk that at least got me to go to class where I bombed the written part of my midterm.  I think I got a C and that is all I am shooting for this semester cause I don’t give a fuck.  So much for the 4.0 I swung last semester.  I think most of my class mates take me for arrogant cause I keep to myself and take in as much as I possibly can.

Most people take me for that come to think of it.  Its not that I am arrogant, but more that I have confidence in myself and my own ability.  I am not a bullshitter and I know what I am capable of and not.  I can be honest with myself.  I find that the majority of the population is asleep, just going through the motions of life not really understanding why they do the things they do, almost machine like.  I analyze every thing I do and everything that happens around me probably to my detriment.

With all this thought I still have absolutely no answers.  Then again “a wise man knows that he knows nothing at all”.  When we stop asking questions then are we really living?  I think I am at a serious cross road in my life, a what is next for Chris Lisanti.  For the moment I do not have any answers.  No questions, no answers, that is a verity I must accept.  The mere idea of the assertion of this has been constantly plaguing me.   I know that if I can consent to such a mantra I may be able to get over this hump I find myself  stuck in front of.  Or am I destined to be Sisyphus?  Maybe I have finally reaped what I sowed?

…A brief look into the insanity that is the mind of Chris Lisanti…

He feels my pain.

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Well this morning we have a very special UCB for all you little kiddies out there in cyber world.  John Mauriello wins this week or I guess it really should have been last week, but I dont really give a fuck cause its my shitty ass blog and I will do what I want to.  Anyway he asked about my new found passion for lurking.  Sure he posted it about a month ago, but it was very appropriate to the situation.  If this is a bit incoherent it is because I have a little bit of the bad medicine in me (rum).

I think first off I will start with the dictionary meaning for lurking and it reads as such: ” to lie or wait in concealment, as a person in ambush; remain in or around a place secretly or furtively”.  If that is what dictionary lurking is let me explain what Lisanti lurking is. Its really grand and super classy.  It also follows the same principles as the above definition.

Lurking is the derogatory name I deem to going out to the bar, club, party or any place for that matter with the sole purpose to pick up a chick and fuck her.  After which you will never see her again and most likely never even have gotten her name.  Don’t you know that is the best way to interact with your fellow humans of the opposite sex, especially ones you should be looking to pair up with and spend the rest of your life with.  At least in the animal kingdom the male just flat out rapes the female and gets it over with.

No, as humans we find ourselves more then superior to our four legged foes.  Instead we use our cunning intelligence to out smart the female using a combination of looks, intelligence and of course alcohol to achieve such desired results.  In all respect the female does the same.  Fuck she is probably a more ruthless predator then a man.  At least men are for the most part obvious about their intentions.  Women on the other hand act all innocent, nice and decent.  Then once you give them your heart they turn around and fuck you over.  That is because every last one of them is nothing more then a filthy stinking whore.  Fellow males out there if you have a girlfriend, fiance,  or wife and think she is happy guess again.  If she has not fucked some guy behind your back yet, well she probably will later.  Especially if you treat her well.

Here is how a lurk works.  I get dressed up in my best cloths and I go out to the bar.  Immediately upon entering I case the place out to see what talent lies with in.  Then I figure out the game plan that will work best for me to prey on some unsuspecting female counter part.  End goal: to get her back to my place where I can hopefully objectify her by fucking the shit out her all night with out ever getting her name or caring to learn a thing about her. If I can get her out of my house in time for a mid day surf  and never see or hear from her again even better.

How is that achieved, by saying and doing whatever it takes to make it happen.  Your kind of a con-artist.  If you have a good wing man then you most likely have an entire repertoire down.  It is like when lions hunt they pick out the weakest zebra in the heard coax it out and then nab it.  When you lurk you find your mark and basically do the same with out the eating alive part, unless your some kind of psycho killer.

Yeah I claim to be a gentleman, but I guess that is a load of bull shit!  I’m just a mother fucking scum bag like every one else out there trying to get mine before it gets me.  Except there is one catch I don’t lurk anymore.  I cant lurk anymore.  As a matter of fact it makes me nauseous even to think about such a thing.  I find that to be a funny fact because I used to thrive on such an act.

No, I think I’m fucking done.  I had my time and it passed.  I don’t want to lurk.  I don’t want to drink.  I don’t want to feel terrible anymore.  I’m tired and I wish my time here would end.  For some reason I cant die.  Believe me I have tried and wished, but here I am still breathing air.  I can not take my own life cause that would be too simple, but why cant I have peace?  Do I not deserve serenity.   I am exasperated with jumping through hoops.  Maybe I will just move up into the pacific northwest in the hills and become a recluse.

I have had everything I could ever have wanted in life already.  Then I lost it.  I don’t want anything else.  Why can’t you see how wrong this life is that you created for us.  I know your not happy. Stop lying to yourself and be what you always told me you were. My faith in humanity was small when I met you and now after it has diminished even more.  Fuck everyone.  I’m over  all of you and your shit.  Stop laughing at me cause its not funny.  It never has been.  While you laugh I cry.  Thats how its been my whole life.

What the fuck more do you want from me?  What more do I have to prove? How much more suffering should I have to endure?

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This week’s UCB is taken by Brennan with the topic “What is your worst character flaw?”  Well like his, I would love it to be that “I was everyone’s unrealized dream”, but unfortunately I am more like most peoples unrealized nightmare.  Enough on that, we are not here to explore that aspect of who I am.  That can be saved for some other blog some other time.

My biggest character flaw, well actually there are two and I will cover both here.  Lets start with the most obvious, MY ANGER!!!!!!! Face the facts I am an angry person, very angry, borderline sociopath.  How I have made it this far not being institutionalized be it prison or asylum is beyond me.  I think my high level of intelligence is the only thing that has kept form spending the bulk of my days behind a wall of glass.

In all seriousness I have an anger problem.   Everyone who has spent more then 24 hours with me can attest to that.  Sometimes all it takes is twenty minutes depending on the situation.  There is an “anger” category to the right of this blog for surfingruinedmylife.net.  If you click on the link I think there are easily over a dozen blogs there on everything from getting into a street fight to ranting about using apostrophes.

I don’t really know why I am so angry.  I had a very privileged life.  My parents loved me and provided for me.  I had a few childhood pets.  Its not like I was some gangster from the hood who was constantly getting kicked back into the gutter.  All I can blame it on is years of malicious ridicule from imbeciles because I was and still am different from them and see things differently.

Im not just one of those angry people who bottle it all up inside eventually either having a breakdown or climbing up on the roof of their house with an AK-47 and taking out the neighbors.  I am one of those people who act out on every initial angry impulse I have.  I threw a desk at my 8th grade math teacher because he made a joke in class at my expense.  I can flare up rather easily.  Brennan the bearer of this internet literary feast (or lack there of) you are reading can attest to that.

It is true that in my old age I have calmed down tons.  When I was in my late teens early twenties I would chase down some one on the road and try to fight them for beeping their car horn at me, even if I was in the wrong.  Keep in mind at 5’9 and 150lbs soaking wet get my ass kicked in a fight situation more times then not.  Sure there are still moments of ridiculous road rage for proof on that read about the Caesar Chavez Incident in the blog “Flying off the Handle”.  There are plenty of surf line up altercations, but in my defense I rarely lash out first unless the other surfer is being a real bone head.  Shit, if a person is being a total jackass it is our responsibility as good citizens of the earth to put them down, vigilantly style especially where surfing is concerned.

I have been making the greatest efforts possible to control my anger and it is probably down to only about four to six outrageous blowups of rage a month.  I used have that amount happen in one day.  My goal is to one day only have that many disruptions a year (maybe before I die?  Then again with out my fits of rage this blog would be a bore. Damn catch 22).  My other Character flaw is that I live in a fantasy world, but then again that could also be my greatest character trait depending on whom you talk to. That being the case Im not about to get into it here.  Since Im still an angry person be sure to not be on the receiving end to my stick because if your smaller then me, like maybe a midget or a sickly child I will fuck you up!

Im so mad I cant even open my right eye.

The future accommodations to be provided for me courtesy of a fit of rage taken too far.

I dont know what this fucking thing is but I will wipe that stupid smile right off of its face.

Fuck you Gary Coleman I will kick your little ass.

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Fuck grammer!   Im mother fucking over it.  Grammar, just in case you thought I did not know how to spell it right, the misspell was put in to prove my point.   Truthfully its not Grammar as a whole that makes me angry, no.  Its those little lines used to show possession or conjunctions, apostrophes.  Why should I have to put one after the “n” in cant, can’t.  I mean every fucking English speaking person knows what I mean.  Doesnt, oh wait Im sorry “Doesn’t” and while Im at it “I’m” too.  Its (It’s) madness all the extra key strokes it takes to properly use those half penis symbols.   Keeping this blog afloat takes up enough of my time as it is.  If I have to add all those extra key strokes as a result of apostrophes its not going to work.  Its your choice HowsurfingruinedMyLife.net or apostrophes.

But guess what; its not your choice at all because this is Lisanti Land and I dont give a fuck about you.  That being the case there will be no apostrophes here and I may just give up on commas too since I have just about had it with them.  If my lack of use of apostrophes makes your time here not pleasurable then you can just find some other form of entertainment.   May I suggest masturbation. It always entertains me when Im bored and even when Im not.  Sometimes I even go in the bathroom and masturbate after sex, but Im also not fit to live amongst mankind.


Its people like this that are the problem. Damn Grammar psychos

Apostrophes are evil the less we use them less havoc they can create.

I think I may be the cause of the deaths of a lot of kittens.

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Im F$%King Angry!!!!

I don’t really know where to begin, truth be told I should really begin with the miserable day on which I was born at 12:03 am in the middle of one of the worst ice storms in New York history.  Not to mention the fact that I was born a few weeks prematurely, came out yellow and spent around 2 weeks in an incubator with doctors giving me 50/50 odds of survival.

My birth pretty much set the tone for the course of my entire life.  No matter what was going to be on offer to me it was going to come at a struggle and then be more of a kick in the ass rather then a desired and many of time expected reward.  Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while know the many moments of purely stupid adversity that seem to plague every up cycle in my life.

My birth is a perfect example.  Here is life kid welcome to the world, now you have to fight for your vestige.  We can go back to the age old shell incident of which I have reminisced on here since the very beginning.  I was 5 and at the beach with both my Mother and Grandmother.  We had the best day ever.  The weather was nice, I played in the shore break and built sandcastles.  The kicker of the whole day was that I collected these two pails full of wonderful shells (they were probably just clam shells, but at the time they could have been the most rare shell in existence to me).

I was so proud of those shells.  The day came to an end, as the three of us made our way back to the car these two guys maybe in their late teens, early twenties came charging our way.  They ran right into me close lining me face down onto the pavement.  I fell, scrapped both my knees and my two pails of shells were spilled out all over the sidewalk broken into a million pieces.  It was right then and there at the tender age of five I learned the world was going to be full of heart ache and despair and no matter how hard I tried I was going to get fucked in the denouement.

Despite this cruel hard lesson I constantly forget how fucked the world can be to its people.  Enough living in the past and back to my being Angry!!!! But Im worse then angry, no, I feel…….Beaten.  Ralph Ellison wrote a masterpiece of a novel called The Invisible Man.  Basically its about this black guy who every time he is given an opportunity to shine it always turns out to be for a false pretense and instead of it being his moment of glory becomes utter humiliation and ruin.  I wont go into any more detail of the novel, but will say that it is definitely worth a read.

I read it in high school and to this day I think it is one of the more powerful works I have ever read.  What am I blabbering about?  Don’t worry I got a few good old fashioned Lisanti rants for you except at the moment instead of feeding me with anger power persevere they are practically bringing me to my knees.

It all started with scoring this new cook job at the Westmont College (if your lost you can check it out here: https://surfingruinedmylife.net/2010/09/02/the-apprenticeship/).  Basic gist of it is I was offered a position that was suppose to allow me to better my situation in life and was amped on it.  Sure it cut into my surf time and is a ton of really hard work.  I have never been averse to working hard and as a matter of fact get some satisfaction out of it.

Pretty much as soon as I quit the gas station and started this new job of course my car decides to take a shit on me leaving me in a bit of a desperate situation.  I figured it would be all right.  I would just bring it back to the station I worked at for the last two years, where I never missed a day of work and keep the place in tip top shape.  When I called my old boss to see if they could help me out, now mind you I was not looking to get a bro deal or any thing just get my car fixed by someone I knew to be honest, he told me to basically go fuck myself and he would not work on my car because I quit.

That in my opinion was the biggest bullshit ever.  Here I am trying to make my way in the world like everyone else and had an opportunity to make more money and set myself up a little better in life.  Its not like I left them with out an option.  I asked for a $1 raise an hour.  If they would have met that or even made some type of counter offer I would have probably stayed, but I was turned down flat out.  It cant get much more insulting then that.  I was there for two years and never got a raise or anything.

Whatever my old boss wants to be a fucking cunt about the whole thing that’s his problem. The funny thing was I thought we were friends him and I, but I guess not.  As usual his good nature toward me turned out to be like many others who have passed through my life, as soon as being my friend was no longer advantageous then I had no more use and thus passed out of his realm of posterity.  Its all good because I know 20 years from know that toothless moron will still be working at that gas station living in a trailer, smoking pot and drinking a 12 pack every single night after work, while some one else gets rich off his efforts, meanwhile I will look down upon him with pity.

Long story short (yeah like that is not a crock of shit) I ended up bringing my car to some place I picked out of the phone book because in the words of Nick the Kook upon picking a dentist after losing his teeth in a freak piggy back ride accident, “they looked like they knew their shit from their ad”.  My car got fixed but I am definitely sure they charged me for some unnecessary work, but my lack of automobile mechanic knowledge was too limited to know the difference.  700 bucks later I have a car that runs and no more money.

My car is finally running fine and with my new job I should have no problem recouping the cash right?  Wrong! Work has been rather tough and stressful.  I have kitchen experience but I have never worked in a kitchen as vast and dynamic as the one I am in now.  Although I am starting to feel my “sea legs” so to speak I feel that my boss is not pleased with me.  Its not just a feeling, he pretty much lets me know that everything I do is sub par all the time and that if I don’t shape up Im on my ass.  At the same time no one shows me how to do anything and Im just told do this and left to figure it out on my own.

Then if it turns out wrong Im yelled at for not asking, if I ask Im yelled at for not knowing.  It’s a catch 22.  Nothing I do is fast enough.  Im getting there, shit I even come home and practice cutting vegetables.  I will be good at this but I don’t know if I will be allowed the sufficient time.  Meanwhile Im a basket case every single day worried about what I will do if I lose this job since I quit my other job, which was one of the easiest jobs I had ever worked.  I don’t really want to look for new work, nor am I in the financial situation too.

To make matters worse rumor around the kitchen has it that my boss wants me to take over the pizza station.  First off I don’t want to work in pizza I did that for 5 years and know it inside out.  I took this job to gain cook experience.  Second the hours are horrid garnishing me to work 8am-4: 30pm Monday-Friday.  Im barely surfing as it is working 11am-8pm but with this new schedule I might as well just sell all my surfboards and spend my evenings drinking beer, getting fat and watching the boob tube.

I mean weekends off suck all that means is crowds everywhere I chose to go and at 4:30 its all blown out, crowded and in the winter time dark.   Fuck my life.  Nothing is official yet but I heard it from a few people now this weekend and Im sure tomorrow my boss is going to throw me under the gauntlet with the bad news.  Looks like Im going to have to find me a new job….AGAIN!!!!!

I should have never left my old job.  I should have known it was too good to be true that someone would give me a shot a something great.  It was all a lie.  Lets make Chris jump through a few more hopes and then when he thinks he is headed for a big finish we will take out his knees thus allowing him to fall flat on his face.  TWO STEPS FORWARD AND 15 STEPS BACK MY FRIENDS. Maybe I should have been born with no legs or arms like that dude from that video I posed in my “Keep Keeping On” Blog?  Things seem to have worked out well for him.  Oh, wait; I forgot, HE HAS NO FUCKING LEGS AND NO FUCKING ARMS.

I Think the picture says it all folks.

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