Ben Bonkoske

  • thank s

    Being in a relationship is like listening to music. Occasionally you need some peace and quiet in order to orchestrate your thoughts. However, as Nietzsche said, “Without music, life would be a mistake.” When all is said and done, I don’t want to cut anyone who makes me smile out of my life. It might result in a funny unhealthy obsession. Looking forward to an infinite playlist when I just can’t accept that I am going to play solo. It brings tears to my eyes that there isn’t really enough of everything else to make me want to stick around after class. I just don’t want to think of my life as a compromise, and then lose everything. That is the funny part of it all, I already don’t have much. What hurts is when you recognize how little that is without someone to share it with. After the fact. “People” are far too embarrassed to admit they were wrong. I’ve was wrong about so many things that I just couldn’t of understood without taking a step back. I was young. And young people are focused on stupid things. But that is no excuse. I’m not mad at others or myself anymore and for that I am grateful. I never would have guessed I would fall in love the way I do. Hopefully, I’ll look back and think of how childish it all is. Hopefully not. Love is meant to be magic. Two people don’t work out, the magic is not lost. The magic of what it was lasts forever. I suppose it is best to communicate through arbitrary means rather than send a letter or something that might be invasive. I have a hot sauce stain on my tye-dye sweater from learning how to cook. Nothing else is new. I’ve learned how to listen to music, but, ya know, it fluctuates. Writing won’t, but it won’t save me either. Don’t be a hero.

    ,
  • Leviathan Wakes – Book Review

    This book has a great moral. Reading bad books is just as important as reading good books because they will show you what NOT to do. I don’t want to sound facetious, but I have never been so annoyed, angered, and confused by a steaming pile of shit in my life. It made NO sense. One of the TWO authors was an apprentice of George R.R Martin, which gives me a bleak outlook on The Game of Thrones series. This book was recommended to me by my neighbor and I was too kind to turn down the offer. I even thought of it as a great possibility to try out some science fiction. I now think that his generosity was a dastardly maniacal evil trick on me. The plot is confusing and constantly changing. It felt like the story was being figured out as it was being written. I can relate because I have done this sort of thing. It may allow the possibility of a more formulated plot in the next addition to the series, but it just felt fucking lazy as I was reading Leviathan Wakes.

    Here is the plot (or what I gathered): I’m doing you a favor by spoiling it.

    An ice hauler (a not very prestigious position in the galaxy) spaceship gets a signal from a ship “in distress.” They arrive to find that it has been gutted by space pirates. Apparently, the space pirates are in cahoots with Mars’ Navy, and Captain Jim Holden announces this to the world and begins an intergalactic war. He then becomes the center of the universe. On the sidelines, Detective Miller is put on a case for one of the people who were initially killed by the space pirates. Holden and his crew hijack a military spaceship. Holden and Miller meet. They are on another spaceship that is infected with a virus that turns people into vomiting zombies (makes no sense). They both get infected by this alien disease, but somehow are able to be treated by it (plot hole). They reach out to some dude who claims he has found a new molecule from outer space that will be able to rewrite DNA and make humans into functioning robots. Detective Miller kills this dude because he doesn’t like him playing God, and Holden throws a hissy fit. A stupid, shallow, misogynist “love story” aka one night stand, ensues between Holden and his shipmate. Holden’s crew ships out with the only sample of the alien molecule and leaves Miller behind. Where Miller is stationed starts plummeting towards the earth, and then it really stops making sense. The alien molecule has rewired the ship, but the girl who was killed by the space pirates, in the beginning, can give it a conscious. The day is saved. It is really anti-climactic. Occasional good suspense building but always lets you down.

    Dude. The book was just putrid awful. There were maybe ten pages in the very large 600-page book that were enjoyable. I feel like I wasted my time, and could be much closer to getting a job, or writing my own putrid novel, or applying for masters programs. There is really poor development of characters. The two leads are just two archetypes sorta fleshed out. White knight. Alcoholic Cop. Everyone else is even worse. Big Brut. Black Girl. Space Commander. The action of the story exists in a complete void. I couldn’t picture any of it. There is a good peripheral world when you can get the idea of the universe, but all the ships sound the same, are hard to imagine, and are never described.

    There is really bad ethos of a character named Fred Johnson. At first, he comes off as a figure of authority, a military commander, and then he is compromised by a fucking ice hauler. DO NOT BUY IT. I don’t buy a lot in this book. It ‘isn’t the “suspend your belief” things like a world existing in space, it is the way people talk and behave in the book. It sounds like it was written by two teenagers who are imagining what they think adults talk like. The plot is stupid. A science-fiction story without any morals or deep cogent thoughts is useless. Big guns and ships. That’s it.


    20/100 and I’m being generous.

    , ,
  • The

    If you think back at all the pain you’ve endured, would it kill you? All the falls, broken bones, heartbreaks, tears, year after year? I sure hope it would. Otherwise, you’d be a wooden robot. That is why life is a crock-pot meal. Best served after you’ve boiled out the fat. I took a never-ending boiling shower tonight where I just plopped on the floor and sulked. It felt so good until I had to get out. I’m back on the hot shower gravy train. I take two a day now. It is a little excessive but as I have learned about myself, it is either that or nothing. My gut is probably the worst part of my life right now…or at least that I’m willing to acknowledge. I look like the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters. I’ve never seen that movie. I wish I was born in the eighties and at the same time, I wouldn’t have minded being born after 2000. I am grateful for my youth, but best to use it wisely. If I used it stupidly, I will have a lot more to look back upon with condescension than I would if I just sit idly. I don’t think I am capable of making life-long decisions. I think as long as you can look back and laugh at it all, you might just live. I’ve watched a couple good movies this year. If I was to guess how many I watched in total it would be roughly 20 movies and 3 television series. This, after I gave up Netflix for the year. I was not more productive, I don’t think I laughed any less or any more, but sincerely laughter will make you live a lot longer. Crying shortens time. I think the memories that pull tears make me experience my past as a long duration. A good cry can feel like a two-hour film if done right. I forget how seriously I take life. I want to do things because of the joy it brings me, not the prestige or wealth. I somehow have convinced myself I can make a difference. It may be perhaps because I think that I am different. I can not do what everyone else can, but I have yet to meet the person who does what I do better. Life has become too easy. Believe me, this is a curse. I hate it. I was reading some of my old writing that I composed while stoned, and I have to admit there was a tempo and rhythm to it. But I am not a musician. I am a poet. And fuck the pentameter. I have to find the right balance of accepting that it is not always going to be Shakespeare when you are dry and defying the status quo. And slipping into oblivion and waking up 10 years later without any progress. Progress is slow, but if you are persistent, you are sure to go somewhere. I hope I find someone worth sharing it with when I get there. I have a new motto. It’s really a rendition on an old one, but here it goes…”Do it for her. Whoever she is.” I think in my life I have always done things for others in spite of myself. It is just a good idea to be prepared when it is time for class. If I can find someone to hold myself accountable to take cold showers, skip the desserts, and respect my body, I might just have hope yet.

    ,
  • Televison

    I gave it all up. I’m very generous. If I’m being honest, I am doing all the bad things I shouldn’t be. And surprise, surprise, I’m more depressed and doing less. Well, I am more content. Comfortable. I am not gnawing at my teeth and my skin isn’t crawling from mental fatigue and withdrawal. I don’t hate my life for not being as exciting as it could possibly be. But with all this indulgence it is never enough. I’ll start over again tomorrow and that is the real secret to success. The subtle art of not giving a fuck is really not the way I function. Perhaps it is OCD or just a disgusting amount of egoism, but I want to fix things. Little things that shouldn’t make a difference but I swear do. Work twice as hard as everyone else and never take Christmas off. I really don’t know for what. It’s not like I’ll have more than one wife. My expectations for my writing is so low. I don’t know what happened to my courage. My brilliance was only a product of being stupid. After the hangover wears off, you realize how normal you really are. I didn’t go to Harvard. I can’t even read my first book. It is deplorable. Spoon in the Road. Get the first edition while it still exists. It cost me more money to make than it ever earned. It also cost me a lot more. Fuck the day I was ever told I was good at something. Once you learn to read, you realize you are a slave.

    ,
  • TIME MANAGEMENT

    There are a lot of things I don’t need to do that occupy a large amount of my time. This blog being probably the most draining of them. It really is the most enjoyable thing I do besides everything else. I have a little trouble believing in myself the same way it is hard to believe in God. I just don’t feel an imminent connection with it all. Life is like a really long one nightstand lately. Very surface level. Maybe the problem is life is very shallow. I think when I was younger I grasped for a deeper meaning to everything in a way that eventually alienated me from anything practical. I have a very unpractical personality. If I told you all of my dreams you’d probably roll your eyes and turn your head over to the person next to you and say, “I think this guy is out of his league.” Maybe that’s why you don’t share your hopes and dreams with someone the first time you sleep with them. I’ve been sleeping alone for a long time now. Man, I had an awful dream last night. A reoccurring problem I can’t be honest with myself about. As I said, it unpractical. I wish I could make decisions for myself. I think I’ve given into allowing other people to tell me what to do. I don’t know who I became. Someone else’s watered-down rendition. Why do I feel like I’ve lost the will to live while I’m happier than I’ve ever been? You wouldn’t know it if you read me like a book. I need another deep breath. And then another for the next hundred years, doing so much of nothing.

    ,