I’ve decided to modify my old website and put it on this domain, as I didn’t have enough server space at my last host to do so. It will be available at:

http://archive.retroviral.net.

UPDATE: 12:54 a.m. : most of the old site is online. Check it out!

Parts not working: aboutme-books and video (but not music!)…and the peeps section. Most of the work is the painstaking task of changing links from

dariusofthedarkness.tripod.com to archive.retroviral.net and the downloading of the million and one fonts I used on the site.

Jordan sent me a MySpace message today. I had sent him a snippy “don’t talk to me ever again” message when he waved at me and tried to solicit my attention from his car last week, so now he wants to hang out. Pathetic. But I’m so bored , depressed, and friendless that I might eventually acquiesce. But I HATE DUMB PEOPLE SO FUCKING MUCH!!!!! GRR!!! I would rather have my arm cut off with a shard of broken glass than endure hours of trite banter with an ignoramus. We’ll see who will win in the war of boredom versus intellect. I fear the answer. Must call Misty. Must call Kelly.

> Nine Inch Nails - Where Is Everybody?
> Nine Inch nails - Only

My life is over. My life is ruined. Blah blah blah fucking blah.

Kelly and Dan are broken up. I just got off the phone with Dan. Apparently Kelly has been doing all these bad things to him. My whole world is crushed. For forty-five minutes I had in my head the image of the person I love most doing these terrible things. The veneer has been ripped off. Becky’s inane chants ring in my head: “Dreams come true!”

But they don’t.

DREAMS NEVER COME TRUE.

There’s just more pain. More lies. More hate. More poverty. And sometime inexorably soon, death. I trusted them with my future. That was my first mistake. Fuck. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Motherfuck. I wish I was dead.

Six months of my life wasted that I could be devoting to my degree. And I really doubt that this fiction of school will last the whole semester. Oh god. I’m really fucked now.

But I’ve been thinking: with my car costing me $250/month, if I moved into town I could have my own place and just ride my bike. That would be sweet. I’m going to ask Misty if I can move into her place after Selena moves out.

And to add shit to more shit, I just finished All Men Are Mortal. Oh my fucking god that was depressing. Depressing isn’t even the word. It was enervating. There will always be wars. People will always be poor. Every human endeavour is pointless. Motherfuck. It was an incredible novel. Vicariously living four hundred years just has to be cathartic.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Ripley said we’d hang out today. And he stood me up. So I blocked him. Let’s flash back to last night:

Darius: movie?

Ripley: movie!

Darius: tonight?

Ripley: yeah

Darius: what movie

Ripley: i dunno

Darius: we could watch Blade Runner

Ripley: im sorry I know your gonna hate me…tomorrow afternoonish about 5 could we hang out

Darius: I’ll pencil you in

Darius: what do you have to do tonight?

Ripley: clean out all the cages and organize the rodent room

Darius: whatever

Ripley: why whatever?

Ripley: are you mad?

Darius: no, I’m just skeptical

Darius: after you stood me up Sat

Ripley: well i did not mean too

Ripley: would you rather of me and adrian got it to a fight

Darius: no

Ripley: well

Ripley: i really wanna hang out with you so mer!

Darius: all right

Darius: tomorrow at five

And abri-fucking-cadabra 24 hours later:

Darius: are we still on for today?

Ripley: i dunno

Darius: yes or no

Darius: I don’t mind if you don’t want to hang out, I just want to go do something

Darius: are you in or not

Darius: ’cause I think I’m going to go into town

Ripley: i dunno hold on

And he never came back.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

At least work wasn’t so bad. I got to give Matt a ride to get his car picked up and we talked a bit. He knows the guy that writes the Crescent City Sucks blog. Oh, who am I kidding? This is the day from hell.

And my neck still hurts from Monday’s injury. I’m going to die in this hellhole. I need to call Kelly and do some damage control. I don’t mean to be insensitive to her, but this is my future too. But another part of me doesn’t even want to call her because maybe it’s really true about all of those things the Dan said. I guess everybody has personality flaws, and I would rather see people as perfect or imperfect. And if Kelly and I couldn’t get each other, the world as I know it would cave in. There would be no hope in anything any more. I guess in some ways she is my personal Jesus. Is that unhealthy? I don’t know.

I already feel like my world has been shattered. I can’t get the book out of my head. There is no point to living. But there is no point to death either. It’s all just so absurd.

sometimes I get so lonely I could…

And now I’m going to listen to Nine Inch Nails exclusively for a week. I hate me.

What I wouldn’t give for that utopia where gas was two dollars a gallon and I believed that something mattered and that people loved me. I just want to wander into a forest and die. Lay out on my bed until I’m 40. Read in my car until it rusts away. I wish I was more depressed, but it like, doesn’t really affect me like it used to. I really wish I had something to cry about. Something to feel deeply about. But there’s nothing. I should write Joe an e-mail. And start that new novel, “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.” I hope it doesn’t leave me even more misanthropic. If that’s even possible. I should catch up on Amanda’s blog. That would help too.

Just so you guys know, Daft Club blew. The first like, four songs were amazing but after that it was a softcore poopfest.

Kelly and Dan had a falling out yesterday.

I don’t know what my future holds.

Maybe I’m going to waste a semester and do nothing. I don’t know. I broke down today and bought that second hard drive I wanted to back up my data. But at least I waited until I got paid. I got a lot of money. But in what I have to pay my dad for the transmission ($50/month for the rest of my life) and my car insurance and the spiraling out of control price of gas ($3.10 was today’s price), I have almost no disposable income. So I have decided that once my neck heals up, I’m going to ride my bike into town every day. I was going to calculate it out later, but I might as well do it now. It’s 20 miles from home to work and back. My car gets 30mpg highway, so let’s say like 25 since a bit of my commute is in town. In a week (at the very very least) I will drive back and forth from town eight or nine times in a week. That’s 7.2 gallons of gas. 28 gallons or so a month. Thats…84 dollars. Oh my god. So my car is now costing me $200 a month? Plus the $50 payment to my dad? And I only make 400 a month? This is fucking insane.

On Friday I will start riding my bike into town for work. I think my shoulder will be healed by then. If I got really good at it I could even stop my insurance and just ride everywhere. That would be sweet. But I would have to be so fucking hardcore. And I’m not that hardcore yet.

But I fixed my computer at work. That’s my big accomplishment of the day. No one will ever know that I’m the one that unintentionally broke it. Except for you. Anyway I also helped fix this and printing problem one of my coworkers was having. It made me feel good to have solved two computer problems in one day.

OMG. I almost won the ubergeek triple crown today. I may have downloaded an illegal version of the developer copy of the Macintosh OS X that was intended for the developers writing new software for the Intel-based Macs. In short, I have a copy of Mac OS that runs on PCs. So of course I went and dug out an old hard drive and installed it. Unfortunately, it didn’t boot up correctly. I don’t know what the problem is, but it may have something to do with the fact that I use error correcting RAM, something that Macs never used and probably never will use.

Misty and I hung out last night. I dressed up in my dark blue pinstriped suit. I looked cool. We hung out with Selena and Josh in their bedroom for a while, then me and Misty went downstairs and she made me a homemade egg McMuffin. We talked, ate copious amounts of chocolate, and watched Sweet November while Josh and Selena humped and thumped upstairs. God they were freaking loud. It was like they were trying to stomp a meth-addicted gerbil to death with a sledge hammer. So I went up there and made orgasm sounds in an attempt to be funny/embarrass them. I’m really going to miss hanging out with Misty. Oh yeah, she said she read my blog for the first time and was honored to see that I blogged about hanging out with her. I just think it’s amusing that I document every single day of my life and none of my friends really notice… well the cool ones do.

Ben has been totally avoiding me. I sort of gave up a few days ago. He was supposed to give me this artwork and we were supposed to work on the menu, but it never really happened. I just kept leaving messages on his answering machine. Perhaps I was too tenacious. Oh well. I don’t give a shit.

I get to find out tomorrow whether I’m really moving. Or maybe I won’t find out. I hate how selfish I’m being about this whole thing. Kelly was in tears on the phone and I just didn’t know what to say to console her. But we’ve had conversations about our total and utter inability to console people. I’m so tired.

I’m reading that book about that immortal guy and I can’t help but just feel disgust at the whole human race. All of our pathetic obsessions with diseases and wars and natural disasters. Can’t they just see that it’s all just bull shit? Cant they see that none of it means anything that it’s just the same old shit over and over and over? Hurricane after hurricane, war after war, genocide after genocide. How can people live their lives like that? Dancing and dancing so fast around the reality that there is nothing to life except the same themes over and over. There’s this once scene in the book were the main character looks at a cow and imagines what the cow’s life must be like. All the cow knows is eating the grass and he would look at the human and wonder what it was. And it’s just like the human looking at anything. We can’t possibly understand anything but in the context of our own pathetic senses and lives. It’s revolting. I got so misanthropic that I had to put the book down and go attempt to install that pirated copy of Mac OS and watch Adult Swim.

I need to go to sleep. Ripley and I are supposed to hang out tomorrow, but it might fall through. We’re basically sneaking around behind his ex, who is also his roomate. It felt very duplicitous to me, but I didn’t really have much of a choice. And it’s not like I believe in those ridiculous objective moral codes. I felt it refreshing that I was going to leave all of this malaise behind (not Ripley, per se, but his creepy ex…who I keep having to deal with by proxy). But maybe I’ll be stuck here. Perhaps indefinitely. Oh my god. I must not think like that. My primary goal must be the elimination of my car. If I can go an entire month without using it, I will cancel the insurance. And perhaps sell it. And perhaps get a vespa! That would be hot, but entirely whimsical. Hmm. I’m tired. Must go to sleep. Must be frugal or I’m never getting out of here.