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Wednesday, March 30th, 2005
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10:12 pm
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the thing i miss the most these days is the sprawl, or the lack thereof. I think i'm pretty used to this particular motif by this point, back and forth. Wave motions, light, spectrums.
I can sprawl on the bed now, i hate it. i miss the leg on mine, i miss the weight of an arm sprawled on me. I miss it so much that sometimes i put Blippy the Penguin on my stomach and pretend. I miss it so... there's an ache on me now, moving about as i think about where her hands and legs were.
was it just association? was i just in it for the "i"? nothing but questions. I don't know why i'm pounding on this keyboard, where's the low level of density? I want to know and be known, i want to hear and be heard, i want to repeat myself never.
there's a sense of regression, or is it digression. i want to, maybe both, but i'm not sure. I can never remember the things i want to write about right before i went to sleep. the things that i think are so brilliant. it's like staring at a wine bottle through the glass. maybe it's there, or maybe it's just on TV, through a LCD, maybe it's just a mirage. if only i were in a desert
I have all these dark feelings, i feel like a maniac. so this is my confession
cheers
current mood:  crazy
current music: out comes the evil, Lords of Acid
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| Saturday, March 19th, 2005
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12:03 am - the death of a cycle
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i'ven't done this in a while, so this will be something new again. take me into a daze and let them come...
i'm staring at the apartment, and it seems so empty. my head feels like it's been in warp 9 for too long and it's vibrating back and forth at a feverish pitch. it's great and horrible and awe ful too.
i ate home fries and an omelette and a danish this morning. That's about it for the daytime. it was good and filling and awful too. then i came home and forgot to buy some alcohol and air of the room filled me with dread.
i wonder if alcohol would have cured that, or made me more dreadful. oh and i still feel like the moment before someone would throw up. She left because i asked her to. well there i go, i broke up with someone. wow, to say it and see it makes my head hurt. i think i might like it
i've grown used to the light that helen left me. today i turned on the overhead light and it seemed like the judgment of god was upon me. i turned it off and put back on the upward bulb light the shoots off a soft beam like how helen likes it instead and it made me feel better, sleepier and maybe a bit of nostalgia too.
i want to know and i want to be known. i want to hold her but i want her to go, there's nothing but contradictions and nothing here. I feel empty but hopeful and hopeless too.
there is no end, and no beginning, only change
current mood:  cold
current music: white wedding
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| Friday, August 27th, 2004
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10:46 pm - First Principles
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Duality
The foremost and fore front runner of principles. (principles, the hardliner no gray ground way that boundaries are set. aka, the standard bearer)
There is nothing more than the duality, or rather, there is nothing less than so. All else, including the driving forces of our universe and our minds, may they be the same or not, are derived from such.
Causation and effect, space and time, yin and yang... When i was young i was entranced by such simple principles. So when I got older I grew tired and confused by them. There are no two but a multiplicity. There are elements and details and an infinite variation on a single theme.
But now i'm an adult, kicking and screaming, searching for some totality, some unity. This is my Eureka moment. Numero Uno, the alpha, the first, the "it" that begins what i can only hope to be.... well you'd know, wouldn't you.
Even unity of ideas, of realistic accomplishments, of hopes and dreams. Of the yearning that we each, as a human being, aspire to, whether good or evil and everywhere in between, would be nothing without the duality. This is the first way that we can differentiate and categorize and analyze.
For nothing can be nothing within itself without something, neither yin nor yang, causation nor effect, yellow nor red, the left from the right eye, can be taken into account without duality. Even the definition of the First is against something.
Rage and jealousy, love and hate, the similar and the opposite, heartbeats that ran an infidecimally different amount. We who try to be unique yet the same. we can't picture unity without duality which leads to multitudes, ranges.
this is the blank slate with which we paint the pictures and auras of our lives. not just our lives but the lives of our ancestors and posterity. This is not the why of why live, but the fact of it. we come and we part. We recall and we forget.
NOthing is important but everything is. It is or it isn't. I think or I draw a blank. There is nothing but dualities, comparisons to challenge oneself or comparisons to strengthen oneself.
War and peace, the chaos within and the chaos without. Enlightenment, lust, sloth, heaven and hell. This is the primordial waters. The allegory that "began".
I flew out of the waters into the fire, I heard from silence and lit the sky with exclamation marks. This is the story and the beginning. The end will come, whether threw the teeth of the Fenrir or under the pale rainy sky.
I smile and I forget who I am, I feel the loss of my identity. yet i will never again forget the beginning. This is how we are. There's nothing lesser to define.
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| Monday, April 19th, 2004
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9:44 pm - love love love love love love love love
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There're the various things, that I think about, at some point, somewhere, has held a certain, little.... something. for me.
Fur, those coats that scream with their collars, instant meals that meal no residue of having been cooked and or made and though not slide but glide. up up up up up up up...
the blank space that faces me when i look here, and away again. Oh and some of these things i hate too. though in that, i love it. I love the taste of love, the air that surrounds the irrelevant. I fear i do not know lasting feelings. But i love that i fear.
I love the sound of strings strung again and again, i love repetitions of a theme. I love the swings of a swing, and i thought that i'm liveing in a dream.
Most of all, I love it when i don't have to think
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| Wednesday, April 7th, 2004
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10:26 pm - Optional, Indeed
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Caught in the whirlwind that that i cannot see, the braver of the two irked, while the coward surged. The test that i've set for myself passed, as time always does, and I do not remember when it was.
There are those things that I think i care about. And then there is the real world. I think i'm increasingly finding it more difficult to discern the real cheese cake, and the puff of fluff that pretends in its vanity... to be.
I'm without new songs, and i've rescinded on my studies as to "how that feels". This is the time, the time, the time that I do not recall thinking would ever come. But I suppose all the young ones say that.
but am I young, or am I old. They say I'm timeless but I'm not so sure. That is why they are they, and I am I.
current mood: awake
current music: travelling riverside blues
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| Thursday, February 5th, 2004
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10:56 pm - Tisk
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I wrote a few days, ago, probably forgot to press update or something, and it was gone
That really discouraged me in terms of keeping up. But now i realized that just means i was still writing for someone else, not myself. ha ha, it's quite silly really.
So Now i've got a job, and it's Feb already. It's fun, in a monotonous sorta way. but it's easy to fill my vanity quota now. I'm so vain that I feel incedecent half the time. But really, who's the judge of that?
As I sit here listening to guilty euro pop, i wonder if this is some kind of disguise that easily deciphers who I am. Angst for Rock, the calm for New Wave, the music dictates where we are in life.
but if that's the case, I don't know what i've got to be bubbly about.
I can't write anything without some music. I think partly the reason is that I hate the silence. Lyrics makes me feel like there's an audience. I like that. and a passive audience isn't even critical. but then I thought i always liked criticism. So cheers, to biting my own tongue.
I picked up on this Tampico thing when i was in college. I still like it, surprisingly. it's almost too sweet, almost. It's more like Sunny Delight in a bigger bottle and more coloring, if you can imagine that.
Ahhh, the ubiqituous "you".
Abba Abba Abba,
current mood:  amused
current music: Take a chance on me, Abba
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| Friday, September 26th, 2003
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4:08 pm - deserts
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Ok, so i didn't grow up having deserts after dinner. Normally I'm not real impressed with them either, thus this entry.
Chocolate fondue is gooooooooooooood. It's so good it's scary. My darling and I were dipping fruits and pound cakes and cheese cakes and brownies into "yin and yang" (dark and white chocolate) and it was soo good i couldn't stop myself even though it was practically hurting my brain with the influx of sugar.
Heh heh, mmmmmmmm
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| Friday, September 12th, 2003
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12:22 am - how I am or am not Frederic
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Frederic being Monsieur Frederic Moreau, the hero of A Sentimental Education.
Note: the book that is horrifyingly accurate in its depiction of life as a series of mishaps, missed opportunities, half intrigues involving flawed yet romantic heroes of the left right and anywhere in between. The time may have changed, alongst with the costumes, but the idea remain the same. Ambition and Sentimentality and Reason persist nevertheless. We are but a this or that in a tit for tat world. and I am a butterfly, dreaming that I am a man.
I am not like Federic in that I cannot reconcile the opposite spectrums of what is to be exalted in the romantic interest as he did. The far flung Virtuous and the deep instilled Spontaneity. I'm not saying that I do not waver, as he does, back and forth between the two personages. However, I often mentally choose to lean towards "God" or "Devil", but never at the same time to both. Perhaps this already indicates a certain personality flaw, this inability to doublethink correctly. Is it lack of reason? or abundance of passions? I don't suppose the answer matters, as the effect is the same.
I am like him in the sense that I want to fight for the simple reasons, for a friend's honor, or the perceived offense of which. I want to be scared yet go on, I want to throw plates into the face of rich idiots and I want to know all levels of society.
I am not like Federic anymore in that I do not think i can adhere to the wildly otherworldly qualities his loves has presumed again. I do not consider myself jaded though i doubt anyone jaded would think so of themselves either. Again this seems a curious place for an introspective call, but alas that is the way it is.
I am still like him in that I can still weave massive landscapes and dialogues in the imaginary for the objects of romance in my mind. no detail will be left out and no dynamics inaccurate. For my movie will always be a love song first.
Out of calamity comes...
current mood:  artistic
current music: Moya, Godspeed you black emperor
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| Thursday, August 28th, 2003
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12:44 am - in a phrase, death and decay
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It's not that foreboding, actually. But that's what came to mind. I've been off of work for about... 2 weeks, a little more. It wasn't work i liked. It was just work. But.... it occupied the time.
Before I worked there I lived at home, now i do not. I've been couped up in this little batcave for a little while now and tonight, I felt a feeling of dread that I've never felt before. It was like panic and suffocation described in books. Maybe it was the happy song that I was listening to that triggered it.
There is no future. I can barely feel anything. It's hot here. There's dust around. I feel like I'm in a tomb. One that I've dug for myself. I feel useless, to everyone. Not that it really should matter to me since I never particularly cared for everyone, but at the moment it seems like the right thing to say....
I drink, and I smoke.
Rock and Roll fits the theme, if only because it's loud and not particularly sex driven, rather vengeance based. Even so, the sound I'm hearing differ from what is played. Things seem less driven. Even the pounding in my brain suggests some kind of chemical imbalance. Surely the doctors can cure me. But I know that even in my moment of despair I do not want to ask for help. I don't know why... I can try to explain it but my former education fail me.
I wish I had a less dorky picture to represent myself. Even though that's what i look like, on a good day.
I wanted to feel wasted, not drunk wasted but tired wasted. I liked that feeling, makes the person feel useful. USEFUL. I know there's no excuse for not being useful other than laziness, but I do not know what to do...
The answer eludes, as does the question. This is what I mean, That is what I am. How will I survive? I've never even thought about it, just always figured it would happen...
Ha ha, and to think, I'm here 'cause of vanity. Isn't it strange? the way things work... I've left my avatar for too long that I can't remember or am no longer sure...
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| Saturday, August 23rd, 2003
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4:20 am - stuff i've lost
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albums i really need to re buy...
When the Pawn.... Fiona Apple (i swear this one's around... somewhere...)
Tidal, Fiona Apple
Ziggy Stardust, David Bowie
UltraChilled volume 1(the first disc anyway)
Somehow the cigarette's negative effects are negated by the alcohol's negative effects...
Strange, I don't feel paradoxical.
current mood:  complacent
current music: paranoid android, Radiohead
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| Tuesday, August 12th, 2003
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11:14 pm - It's the heat
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It's very difficult to accept anything. I don't mean some particular philosohpy or even a general way of thought, or a society or some such social dynamics to want to be categorized together by statisticians.
I mean the comfort of living, of existing, the feeling of a coke can when it just came out of the fridge, the dust that inevitably builds up in corners of the room that no one ever touches, the growing fainting sense of time when all other things cease to have any voice in one's head. When i say one, i mean mine, of course. As we cannot know anything else.
I'm offended at complacency, even though I waste my days away being offended. I hate the fact that people cannot imagine living elsewhere, yet I do not take a step outside of my cave because I hate the idea of having to walk back. I want to take to the road and not look back but I think I'll run out of music, or gasoline, or some fluid or another.
How can people have no dreams larger than their lifes? it's the curse of the accomplished to review their successes, and that of the unaccomplished to never want more. But inbetween the devil and a thousand lashes there lies the ability to dream, to hope and the faith it takes. I'm afraid it will wane.
"when young, conquer, when old, die. Ye of little faith." I must be talking to me.
I want to take to the world, I want to have dreams that're grander than anyone's ever imagined. I want successes to gloss over me and I want failures that will haunt me. I want to take the devil's soul and I want to drink gasoline. I want to break my hands so I'd know what it feels like, I want to run until I pass out.
The touch of heroics in a scene where vanity is not illustrated by folksy singers and their guitars, but the teenagers of the world, Americans, when we gloat our egos and feint interest in such things as culture, or history. Who cares? To be able to forge the new talents and endings, to do away with traditions and etiquette, not because they have no uses but because we can.
THAT is Der Wille Zu Macht
current mood:  aggravated
current music: Phantom Planet, California
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| Friday, August 8th, 2003
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2:17 am - who the fuck knows
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I was thinking about a real subject title, or something, but then i realized i never cared for that bracket anyway. It's silly to think that I can generalize a journal entry, if the entry is to be spontaneous, it probably has no real coherence. at least not after a little bit...
Today I think i'll just keep typing thi ssong's over. See what i can squeeze in.
Wow that's a lot of pressure. I remember my balding creative writing teacher in high school. he was so hyper, and comparatively young. I saw him once after I got out of that architecturally unsounding hell hole. I told him what i was doing and he sounded as if nothing I said actually went through. Guess that's what happens when no one remembers you.
That wasn't a surprise, but I don't know why, It still kinda depressed me at the time. Luckily I've finally gotten over the feeling of lameness I connect with high school. I'ven't gone back to take a look at that building in about probably 2 years, and I don't feel a repulsive urge to either, like I did before.
I wonder what that says about me, if it took me more than a whole 4 year school cycle to really forget about high school.... ha ha, now all I feel is pity, and not even the good kind.
current mood:  apathetic
current music: In my dreams
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| Tuesday, August 5th, 2003
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12:09 am - burning bridges
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there's a time for the fantastic, and a time for.... umm,just about everything else.
I need to put up the sign "Physical Starvation approaches" somewhere in my room. Analogus to it is the story that I've always liked, about some king who became a servant for the guys who dominated his kingdom. He served willingly and lived with the goats. However, he kept some organ of a goat about, for it was quite bitter when licked. He'd lick it everyday.
Never forget, never forget, never, what you need to do. Eventually the man went on to slaughter his enemies through quite Machiavellian schemes. To that i say, sweet.
I wish I had a Winston Churchill speech on hand, the old alcoholic bugger would have a few choice words for me now.
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| Tuesday, July 29th, 2003
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9:38 pm - History, and my early education, part I
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My father, is a relic from the Cultural Revolution. Caught between the chasms of ideal and decades of life altering reality, his conceptions of democracy and the practice of which seemed to me ambigious at best. He always talked about how he could write a book about his experiences, and that I'd have to agree. From being early intellectual to farmer to frequent flyers across every ocean known to man, he's been chauffered and he's been the chauffer too. The man's waitered in nightclubs hounded by the underworld, driven a tractor for mere subsistence, and invited to banquets where businessmen dined with the head of State, yet somehow, he manages to remain the utter tightass that I know him to be.
This makes me wonder, will my life be as interesting as his have been? perhaps that's why i'm bitter.
He gave me a great family name. A prince amongst the people. perhaps that's why I feel like I'm failing him now.
The only question of consequence though, is whether I'll be a better father. It's not that I don't think he did a good job. I just don't like him. Something I hope i'll find the remedy for in my own case, in the next ten years...
Indeed a steep example he gave me. But if anything I am, I am proud. and in my heart I will not fail him. Not because I really care, either. Because for ME, I must go on. All is the subjective, even everyone else.
The funny thing is that I do not WANT to understand a goddamn thing he wants to tell me now. Recent words of wisdom that sound so ridiculous to these retrained American ears include such classics as "when riding a donkey, look for a horse"
Of course I know what he means, but it sounds ridiculous nonetheless.
current mood:  annoyed
current music: Brick, Ben Folds Five
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| Sunday, July 27th, 2003
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12:56 am - party music
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Though it is but a transgression to a different time and place. I'm looking at what I think should put people.... in the mood, so to speak. I don't mean in a sexual mood either. I suppose I've yet to outgrow the asexual self image that I've had for a long time...
Anyhow, so my choices for party music is the kind that I think will put people in a drunk mood, a mood of celebratory trance in the honor of Dionysus, the most irrational of gods. In fact I'd like to retract, I don't even want to call it "party" music anymore. the word reminds me too much of inexperienced youths in search for some carnal mishap. In my case, I think it should be "gathering" music.
Never have I wanted it too loud, nor too fast or slow. Suppose the moderation to excess rule must be bumping the noggin on this one... I so much want people, or rather, people whose company that I might enjoy, to slow to a still. But that is not slow, since our hearts still beat, and beat and beat.
And talk, and talk
and talk of The Portrait of a Lady, or ballads of rage... against heaven perhaps, or the muses. I want no talk of reality and no talk of you or I. There is no you or I but the common. The common is the absurd in this case. Since we're all absurd, in the delicious manner that we are, by nature.
so I don't think I'm asking for alot. but apparently I am, "really"
current mood: calm
current music: The Inferno, Emma Shaplin
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| Friday, July 25th, 2003
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11:41 pm - Closest thing to Musical wine
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"During the time of which I speak it was hard to turn the other cheek
To the blows of insecurity
Feeding the cancer of my intellect the blood of the love soon neglected
Lay dying in the strength of its impurity
And all the friends I thought were so together
They've all gone and left each other in search of fairer weather
I sit here in this storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of love's recovery
There I am in younger days stargazing painting picture-perfect maps
Of how my life and love would be
Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection my compass, faith in love's perfection
I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen
And all our friends we thought were so together
Left each other one by one on the road to fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of love's recovery
Rain-soaked and boys choked
Like silent screaming in a dream
I searched for an absolute distinction
Not content to bow and bend
To the winds of culture that swoop like vultures
Eating us away...eating us away...eating us away to our extinction
Oh how I wish I were a trinity so that if I lost a part of me
I'd still have two of the same to live
But nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal as specks of dust, we're universal
So let this love survive and be the greatest gift that we could give
Tell all the friends who think they're so together
That these are ghost and mirages all these thoughts of fairer weather
Though it's storming now, I feel safe within the arms
Of love's discovery
"
Normally, I hate having someone else say words for me. But I suppose I'm just in that mood. When a mood takes over me. I want to shout "this is the way!", but who's listening?
current mood:  nauseated
current music: See above.
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| Tuesday, July 22nd, 2003
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11:10 pm - ole, as they say
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I'm not sure whether I've made this clear, in this little log of my internal mono-umm, -logue, that I'm currently out of tune. Anyhow, if not then now it is. BUT but but but, onto brighter things. Today I want to remember a break in my so called life that is actually... good.
So I'm reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, simply because I'm vain and I thought the depiction of the title character in a recent blockbuster was quite fitting. A young, handsome and absolutely elitist swordsman/immortal. My kind of gentlemen.
Here's the passage that I can most definitely picture myself saying. " Genius lasts longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves. In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. The thoroughly well-informed man--that is the modern idea. And the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything priced above its proper value."..
cynical and analytical to the correct degree I'd call it. The funny thing is that the person who says it isn't the so called "hero", but rather the tempter of man who can more colloquially called to be "on the dark side", ha ha
What a thing to say... and who do I have to say it to... now?
perhaps the brighter side has dimmed by now.
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| Friday, July 11th, 2003
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12:24 am - Nil
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I've been thinking, being that I'm with little. What exactly it is that I cannot possibly live without.
Vanity, maybe. I think I'm too vain. But then again, who isn't? or do I just know the wrong type of people.
Water, probably. I think I drink too much. Every type of liquor must have some water in it, right? or am I just kidding myself.
Music, definitely. This is about the only thing i'm sure about. I think it must be because i'm the only child and i haven't liked my parents for a while. Being alone, that's about as scary as water to me. I want to learn to salsa.
I was gonna name some more abstract things, but then i realized that i only think about those things when i'm sitting here smoking and drinking and numbing.
No Rest, for the wicked
current mood:  lazy
current music: Ziggy Stardust
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| Thursday, July 10th, 2003
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1:21 am - boom
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"Hello great big cloud up in the sky
How you float above the world so high
Dressed in pink just like a queen
Take this message there for me...
Hello great big cloud up in the sky
Can't you see my tears, oh how I cry
Oh, so pink just like a queen
Only you can set me free"
and repeat! ah the effect of a badly translated German pop song.
I think I figured out I'm enchanted by such deliriously simply lyrics. It actually reminds me of some of my former education, that women are delicate and fragile and must be shielded from the veracities of the world.
Like Byronic verses, such indications are no more true than what we see with our eyes. Or rather, my eyes. By the way, I'm practically blind... Yet.... yet it is not the perception that matters, but the impression. As long as I am who I am, the impression that I have of women shall remain. Like a culture that usurped another in the name of victory, the name of the temple might change, but the foundation will be a Ziggurat no matter who the god worshipped will be...
This is the end of the line, Booom
current mood: awake
current music: LSD, Lords of Acid
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| Sunday, July 6th, 2003
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11:44 pm - The turning of the tide
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wave after wave, come back, oh ocean, my curse, my salvation...
To fear, to love, the fragments of my heart feel empty. Or that my stomach.
To say, when's the last time food entered me. That, is a question for the ages.
After all, 24's over the hill. Ah, only a year away from doom.
But on the brighter side of things, Cherries. or as my love would like, Mangos.
The beach is closer, but still far away. wondering... always. How... curious.
current mood:  weird
current music: Blue, Reset
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sfenrir's journal