2011-02-04 - 9:43 p.m.
if i can collect just $1 from each of my facebook friends ill be able to finance my oral surgery. how amazing is that shit? donate today!
old, wrinkled potatoes. so much controversy over the spelling of potato that i can barely spell it anymore. cats everywhere licking their assholes. what kind of a person do you wanna be? i never realized it was up to me to actually decide. i just assumed the decision was already made by my dna. but i cant lick my own asshole, literally. theres something alternate in us, art. its fucking art. ants go to work kitty is his own shower. nature for us doesnt satisfy unless its admired. 2009-11-02 - 10:24 p.m.
My life seems to have kinda gone down hill. I suppose at some point its just one big down hill to the grave so realizing that actually puts me ahead of the game…still, it’s a bit of a downer. Without humor im sure id never make it out alive. Sure, the bees and the polar bears the constant genocide and the mayan prophesys…those are the obvious up setters. Its my own personal downward spiral that concerns me. I believe it started in college where I set out to succeed…and failed immediatly. Id never been very ambitious academically but that was the first time id ever actually paid to screw myself over, drinking and smoking aside. It was a real eye opener…an ironic nirvana. Making the least amount of sense made perfect sense. The ol shoot yourself in the foot eggs in one basket that was me. Whos got twenty bucks and a lighter? Because it was about the burning and the destruction duh. Id have excellent literary references and metaphors for my behavior outside of class if id managed to ever get to class im sure. Cest la vie. A little French slipped in in the 4th grade. a series of embarrassing fuck ups, the list goes on. .
A long list
A trapped kiss
Tomorrows always Tuesday
Underware at the department store
Shopping for
Craigs list birthday wish
Nothing is happening
You and I are here
it looks like i havent updated since april. huh. ive been thinking a lot. id like to think that writing and thinking go together. but apprently not. for me thinking is counter intuitive to writing. (as with most things) so what has been happening? the short days and long months. the even longer, shorter years. i continue to concieve my eventual demise. everyday though. to the point of paranoia. i open the door expecting to be stabbed in the stomach and left to die,writhing in bloody pain as i witness my house being robbed of everything ive worked so hard to gain. the archtypal death of my personal effort & effect. alternatively inspiring life. as much as i know, im still unsure. but i realize now that being unsure is part of what i want for myself. the great unknown exists to inspire. our dreams and nightmares are real. but only our love is eternal. 2009-04-08 - 2:17 p.m.
im just not feeling kathy lee and hoda today. im not really feeling the internet either but the alternative is actually doing something which sounds like way too much effort to put in on my day off. there are a few things on my plate however...i have to find a way to bloody the doors without just cutting myself. i have to return the redbox movie, quantum of solace, which i thought was totally nail biting! and he only lost his cool that one time by cursing shit while trying to land a crashing plane. the view and ellen were repeats this morning. i like talk show repeats. its like time travel. i got to watch that crazy enthusiastic magician again who reminds me of myself on coffee, and pinks annoying yet somehow endearing performance on ellen in las vegas. speaking of coffee im just reusing the filter over and over again. kitty seems quite content in the window fantasizing about catching a bird and torturing it to death, for fun no less. while my poor human brain looks on all morally malcontent. what is wrong with people?? ill just never understand. animals, sure. humans, wtf stop acting like crazy animals! the dogcat brought in a dove the other morning. good morning. it wasnt dead but real fucked up. trey smashed its head in with a rock. i thought about the afterlife being like a big magnet or god sucking at the other end of a straw/water slide to hell. ive been painting on the walls again. but sober and without rihanna. the weather has been really nice and with the windows open i can hear the neighbor talking to her cat like a baby. 2009-01-25 - 11:16 p.m.
theres a whirring in the walls. like someones spanish tongue rolling around its Rs. the studio, (which never seemed like the proper name for it) has taken on the more appropriate title of "lous room" now that we have lou. besides the nightmares about finding his bloodied corpse ransacked casually by the cats i enjoy lous presence very much. hes the size of a piece of sushi. i built him a rumpus room using the box that the amazing TV came in. he seems to enjoy dashing around the place making little hamster noises as he goes. it sounds a bit like morse code. which feeds the whole animals work for an inteligence agency theory. at any rate...ive been having a hard time letting go of the xmas tree. its so pretty. januaries light shines no less lovely on decembers troubadour the christmas tree. maybe come february, if it hasnt burnt us all down by then. LOST has also been on my mind alot and wednesday couldnt come fast enough. yes, its an exciting life i am living. LOST, lou (the hamster) and the old xmas tree. i cant wait to see whats next. 2009-01-09 - 11:38 p.m.
i like tv shows so much better than movies. the drama drags on and on. even if its not that great, its long. and long means involved. and involved feels more real. sheer length evokes a sense of the familiar and everyday but not long enough to feel mundane . however repetiotius and formulaic. and illusuary and false serials earn our loyalty. the long hours of a common day condensed into scripted serial. a record of events however contrived or satirical or ironic or whatever if its done well is a map to ourselves. however mistaken or idealiic or so often ugly. our writing is our history and our history is our imortality. 2008-11-20 - 3:48 p.m.
the water got shut off again today. dont you just love that last flush ? the one you forget about thats waiting in the tank long after youve left your shit to rot there under the assumption you cant afford to make it go away? au contraire my third world friends. what freaks me out more then the rotting shit though, austin energies choice of hold music. its that cut me first moonilght sonata movement~ all dramatic in your ear while you wait for the unrealistically expensive news and in the back of your mind your thinking if i never had to process food and turn waste i wouldnt even NEED water to flush it away with but be that as it may my shit is still resting 10 feet from me with the only intention of aquiring more company, jesus. and listen the tvs not the problem everyone the tv can really help it just needs i dont now a slap in the face or a kick in the balls or something or maybe less of that would help 2008-10-18 - 7:32 p.m.
for all of our adult dignity may we never lose sight of our wonder with life. i dont want to feel naive in my optimism either. the consequence of our innocence is often dangerous but risking an entire universe to comply with the sanctions of a stubborn/wary mind is heart breaking. id take even a broken heart over a lustful mind any day as my guide. gifted are the bold with infinite dreams. gifted are people who find truth in all things unseen. 2008-10-02 - 5:01 p.m.
this was a decent cnn article sandwiched between cat homicide and police suicide and not david icke so no one can call me crazy. being raised by a hippie, a fashion conscious shop-aholic hippie my tender reality is based in a lot of hard hitting truths slash conspiracy theories. its tough to love america by hating it. people get so angry. the woman at the post office recently wanted us arrested after my mother got everyone riled up about the the revamped passport design and threats to our freedom. and i have always felt really cool in that im going to be arrested for my principles kind of way but i want to believe peoples bullshit. im so gullible maybe as a result of becoming too cynical early on. my mother doesnt vote. i think i dragged her out to the bush gore election and she voted for nadar that was it. i doubt she'll vote this time. she doesnt trust the people in power she wants to live off the grid and she loves designer clothing. i'm voting for obama but i would have voted for ron paul. so what do we do besides educate ourselves and vote. the financial crisis! nothing has changed for me because i have zero money invested in my future because my father gambled all his money away years ago and because my mothers mentally homeless. but as a communal being i want to feel what everyone feels. i do love you america. remember when i was in greece for those four months staring at my feet because any direct eye contact with men would come across as a sexual invitation? i dont know what we're going to do now but fighting with each other is stupid. the civil war, wtf? humans are so totally cursed. the blessed cursed. for my part im painting perversions in playful colors and attempting to share my most coveted inventions. but i dont want to. art is unfair that way. fucking originals? thats why painting on a surface that will rot in your lifetime is nice. we're not supposed to adore our art. as soon as we're attached we're supposedly screwed. but isnt art around to be timeless? billions of dollars after your death? creating something and failing to love it can motivate greatness. but if a singular creation was ever enough it might compel one to stop. some beautiful imperfection. thats all active art should ever aspire to be. ,AND obesity for the mediocrilly intelligent. i used to lie for summer reading contests in elementary school. i figured if they trusted me not to lie they were fools and should be exploited. i justified this by knowing i could have read all the books i said i had if i actually tried to.
2008-10-02 - 4:50 p.m.
am i losing my mind? why do i hate all of the stupid attractive people? and it would appear the more attractive the stupider. attractive is the wrong word. HOT. the hot people. the oh so sexy. the fuck me now but not directly in any sort of hole people.
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Monday, March 31, 2008
another bullshit upgrade. how upgraded are we capable of becoming? its a constant state of effing upgrading with few actual improvements. thanks for that assload marketing and development. but i remain as pleasnatly naive as the next jackoff. i want to believe. though now that i think about it my belief does need a sponser. your belief made possible to you by..... school reform! Real honest to goodness human beings. no more robot assload compromising our sexy compassion. can i get an amen? can i get a tissue? can i get a high five? can i get some of whatever youve got? aids doesnt count.
band practice really isnt so bad with ear plugs. i imagine my ear wax is being highly compromised however. smushed deep within. deaf. its interesting that you need to hear yourself speak in order to not sound retarded, like literally.
i want to go protest the circus being in town. really ruin peoples good time. cause how are you gonna go cart around a bunch enslaved wild animals as entertainment. thats fucked up. and for childrens entertainment no less. you could entertain a child with a rock. but no, soils not good enough. elephants must be kidnapped and tortured.
all that i ever write about anymore are my complaints....wah
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Sunday, March 09, 2008
its really bad. is there no attractive place to blog on the net? kitty is so attractive when she is licking her butthole. it could come across as some sort of gross hairy contortionists trick...but kitty looks good...she owns that shit.
watch out for those new sily smooth ob tampons you slide on ein and next thing you now its gone for three days and if your vag ever smells lie fish its because that sily smooth tampon is rotting up there
$20,000 versus mondo the stapler
Current mood: confused
Category: Parties and Nightlife
well, my shoes are stapled and im ready for the gala! there was a moment of panic when the straps to my high heels snapped off and the usual regime of tape, rubber bands and shredded woven plastic bags didnt do the trick. but once again, mondo the super sized stapler saved the day and i am all shoed up ready to do this thing (ie sit here and watch people party)
landsliding into the grave with all my petty belongings behind me
Current mood: peaceful
again, i find the act of writing anything down once its come to mind detrimental to my expression of the idea itself. acts of typing take another ability entirely, and that, not including, having to log in and out. this is the mark. having talent does not always gift you the ability to share it well. i commend live musicians. for all my bitching regarding their irresponsibilty they are capable of launching directly into an immediate kind of sharing.
why do i make the time to really sense the spaces im in primarliy when leaving or entering them and does this derive or result from my constant moving?
i prefer the indoors. i feel so guilty saying this because i love the outdoors so much, of course...but nature intimidates and overwhelms me.
the sum of my life does not need to include anything grand or amazing. for me, the fact that i even exist is fantastic and obligatory enough. guilt, originating from other peoples ability to make a mark and any expressed interest in what i have to say or do hold inapproprate leverage over my productivity. but left alone on the island id be content to build a hut and sit in it. a sand castle and play in it. human interaction human interaction. broad, specific, fuckung any of it feels truly like the only thing binding us to the fact that we even exist at all. and thats cool. it just inspires me to drink and watch tv . and i suppose on an academic level im discussing the philosophy of individuality here. academically speaking, id argue we're complete indiduals living entirely the same lives. im not even sure what academically speaking means....fate spared me that indignity.
sold out show for one
Current mood: lonely
i dont buy this ultimatley alone crap. last time i checked none of us were stranded on some deserted island conversing with a volleyball. Even that crazy asshole at the bus stop with the swatsica tatoo taking up the better part of his face...even he's not alone. and to all of you atheists who dont believe in any form of the afterlife...dont try to tell me we're alone when we die. if theres no afterlife then theres no alone in the afterlife. additionally, sorry roberta sparrow but every living creature does not die alone. dying, aside from being born is the one thing we have in common with anyone who has ever existed or will exist, with the exception of the highlander and those certain savvy vampires.
8:24 AM - 3 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
smoke now, die later.
Current mood: thirsty
i stepped on a wasp, which brought my wall painting momentum to a standstill. it really wasnt so bad. twenty at once, that would suck. this is my second wasp biting thus far in this life. and one bee. i felt bad for the wasp, having killed it and all. it was probobly a kinder, though symbolically inferior fate to suffer than that of the many bugs who died in the wet paint. i rescued a few, laughed at some others...it was pretty random. some bugs, depending on my mood i felt sad towards. in other moods i accepeted their doom or made light of it becuase my own death/murder frightens me or because its uncool to care or because human babies are dying fill in the blank whatever. what i couldnt figure out is how, if the wasp has a soul, which i feel it it clearly must, how can the course of its life be determined in so short of a time span? how does time pass for an insect? what does it mean to have a longer life span? where are the cigarettes? how come everything i find keeps dissapearing and all i end up with is wandering around trying not to care wondering where everything goes so mysteriously. foul play is one school of thought but im still hell bent on GD trolls. they have no shame either. theyll take your baby as soon as your pocket watch. not that i own either. all of the clocks here flash different times altogether. ill tell you another reason im backing up the troll theory and not the more socially acceptable forms of blame or responsibilty... it dissapears, it reappears, then it dissapears again. thatll be 45.50 please.
somebody come down here and just shoot me. thank god tuesday is my friday because i cant take anymore. when i tell the patrons the answers to their questions they rarely fail to ask the answer back as a question. it goes something like this:
patron: whats playing tonight?
me: 2001 Space Odyssey
patron: 2001 Space Odyssey?
me: yes at 7
patron: at 7?
me: yes
patron: 2001 Space Odyssey at 7?
me: thats right
patron: how much are tickets?
me: 8 dollars
patron 8 dollars?
me: thats correct
patron: 2001 Space Odyssey at 7?
me: you got it!
or this is my other favorite/worst
patron: i need a ticket
me: to what?
patron: the show
me: what show
patron: i dont know
me: i do need to know which show in order to sell you the proper tickets
patron: right, ok, um. can you just read off some names of stuff you have playing?
me: surfer dude, ray lamontagne, ryan adams, david byrne, dave attell, the swell season, not afraid of the dark, gone with the wind, baraka, the magnetic fields, ramsey lewis, kd lang, veritgo, chris botti, aint misbehavin, jungle jack hanna, sweeney todd, mo rocca, diavalo, blazing saddles, carol burnett, white christams, tuna christmas, tuna vegas, the very hungry caterpiller, golden dragon acrobats, david sedaris, leo kottke, to kill a mockingbird, larence of arabia, bridge over the river kwai, mike super, maya angelou, lily tomlin
patron: lily tomlin thats it!
me: that show is sold out
patron: really?
me: yes
patron: are there any seats left?
me: no it is sold out
patron: no seats?
me: unfortunatley not
patron: but how is that possible?
me: 1300 people purchased tickets
patron: really?
me: really
patron: i cant believe it
me: im sorry
well, im feeling a bit better even though i may or may not have borrowed my semi roomates wii while hes vacationing in nyc and waking up in the middle of the night to the sensor beeping grabbed and hid it somewhere i can no longer find. i simply have no idea. i really want to play mario galaxy and cleaning is going to blow. why is it that you can clean and clean and clean and everythig is always still messy? dont get me wrong, i love the mess i just start to feel oppressed by the constant seemingly futile battle ive engaged with it. my stupid bandaid wont stay on either. frustration when failing to operate the machines that allegedly help our lives to function smoothly should serve as legitimate concern for the perceived benefit of living in a modern world. its not the design i distrust, its the marketing. maybe i DONT need shampoo, you know what im saying? i just think we should make sacrafices when we make our choices. cause every yes is also a no you know? ive also inexpllcably taken to signing alot of words. and im GLAD that capital metro may strike. they should
stupid people
Current mood: tested
as entertaining as making fun of you can be, you have GOT to get it together. im not sure how much more of you i can take before doing or saying something drastic. like, muslim drastic. and i know many of you are too stupid to realise how dumb you are so i ask you to just please not talk, and no flapping your arms around and moaning in lieu of words. just be quiet and listen really really hard and if you must talk just say yes or no. or, thank you for dealing with my horrendous stupididty, i really appreciate it and am working hard to recognize my own ignorence. im even looking into home labatomy in the hopes of sparing everyone the agony of wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
gross magic
i wake up covered in bruises that i have no recollection of enduring. there they are though. about three a week. big and bold and chaotic. a forceful little cosmos tender to the touch enacted for no reason i can recollect but surely reminiscent of something. how obligated are we to our art? i know i cant shut up about this but sometimes i feel so guilty. i d have to cut my nails to practice piano and theyre so pretty. the best i got lately is strange colorful bruises fading in about three days. dissaparing back to wherever they originated from inside of my body. belonging no more than my talents do. they simply surface when they feel the need and return always to the inner sactums of the fleshy lump graciously hosting my eternal soul.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
torture chamber of hell yeah
the olmypics are driving me crazy. it all boils down to how much stress you can handle as an adult/female. the 16 year old children are stunted and still close enough to god to pull off perfection. i dont know how to relate to this...and i love it.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
its more of a conceptual disease
Current mood: anxious
when i was old enough to foolihsly assume id derive some benefit from as!cing my parents what they wish they'd never done with their lives i had no idea how their answers would haunt me to this day ..when posed the question my mother moreosly enthused "squeezing my pores i really wish i had never squeezed my pores" then she pointedly admonished "dont ma!c the foolish mistae of squeezing your pores lie i did" my fathers response i recollect as a surprising lac!c of regret due to having always made sure to wash his face before going to bed..do i need to mention that as an adult m exclusively squeezing my pores in lieu of washing my face ..
Sunday, June 22, 2008
what do you mean the world doesnt revolve around me?
Current mood: annoyed
customer service is a real drag. everyone and their sweet little gramma suddenly want you to burn in a firey hell after you tell them they cant have what they want. its difficult not to take peoples anger, directed immediatley at you, personally. in fact, i'd say its impossible. the four agreements author clearly never worked in a box office doling out dissapointment and policy. and heres the ironic part: i'm willing to be flexible with people as long as they dont have a horrible attitude. as soon as you mouth off with that bad baby tude, "wah wah wah i want what i want , screw you, wah" im not going to help you. so heres an obvious tip. be fucking kind. you'll find people much more empathetic to your woes and willing to work with you if you just soldier up, accept that you cant always get what you want, realise you kinda do like that rolling stone song, and act like the fucking priviledged american adult well off enough to purchase entertainment, that you are.
whats punk rock
honesty
whats cool
not being fidegety or fearful about death but taling about it and rejoicing in the lives of one another
homewor for the unschooled and faithful
Current mood: calm
stress builds up to unnecessary levels without other human beings to comiserate with and relate to.. i believe in reincarnation 100% ive thought it all through and nothing maes mores sense when trying to rationalize consciousness or the unfathimable soul.. so than you for being there..its still difficultt to imagine our lives meaning anything in the grand scheme of things but regardless we continue to exist.. i apologize for mooching off everyone so extensively but please understand that in doing so i am contributing to my somewhat compromised abillty to relate with everyone.. also i hate psesses.. ps tae your money and shove it up your ass
goldschlager pussy
Current mood: betrayed
employment is like any other long term romantic relationship. the sex of course replaced by beers on friday and long weeks of just, plugging away. but otherwize theyre spot on. all of the repressed animosity included. no horrible moment brushed under the proverbial carpet. all of the injustice packed like stank ass sardines into ones fishy mind. cheating, lying, lowballing, its all there. but sadly whats lacking is the ability to say anything. at work, its more a matter of "sucking it up" or "kissingass" neither of which im much inclined to do in either case. so here i am,...making less than all of my peers, even those whove been here for less time than me and whose responsibilities include im not sure, eating....drinking...? and one starts to think...is it me? have i discluded something integral to respect by not ironing my clothes or blow drying my hair? and if so, why should either fucking matter? does my filthy hair discount my ability to work hard? "seem" capable. im SO sorry for people who dont have what it takes to see the world outside of their elitist ideals. but im more sorry for myslef, suffering at their artistically inept hand.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
the tortured artist reality game show
Current mood: romantic
the impact of something i threw away several months ago just hit me. it was a california raisins tin full of pictures. evocative of a time in my life. and i threw it away because i didnt want to feel that i was "carting" it around. but now i realise the error of my ways. sifting panicked through boxes of meaningless crap only to find it gone at my own hands months ago. the memories are now only memory. its heart breaking. i feel this is what it would be like for your home to burn down. with just nothing to do but witness it burning. im hesitant to throw in a watching your sister be raped in front of you reference to make myself feel better. surprise, it does. but i dont have a sister and ive never been raped really so back to my paltry complaining of love lost. memory eradicated. i suppose a rape victim would appreciate that. its only bad when you want it....and its gone. becoming more complicated when say you enjoy the rape or miss being in a hellish situation like the army or something. adaptation is dangerous.
the ol absent father santa jesus complex
Current mood: indifferent
if my father shoots me one more time in my dreams im going to lucidly kick his ass. maybe seeing him all broken and bloody by my hands in a dream would inspire some compassion. or not. the problem is if i were to allow myself to feel sorry for him i would be taking rresponsibility for his bad behavior which he has yet to apologize and make up for. so fuck that. my compassion is for the victims of people like him. sorry. sure, i pray for my father to honor the wrongs of his ways but empathy is out. the only empathy he'll have from me is awareness of all the drinking ive done trying to grasp him. take that. shoot myself in the foot AND all the eggs in one basket. his own personal drunken martyr. who refuses to get it together without him. though i have a feeling, from all these dreams my choice is going to leave me dissapointed. im not sure how much of a choice it is though. people say your path in life is designed by the choices you make. but how in control are we REALLY of the choices we make. arent we predesigend to be a certain way and make certain choices? didnt jesus HAVe to die for our sins. ha ha, poor jesus. wouldnt it be amazing if he actually did come back all obvious and pissed and shit? we'd never hear the end of it.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
i take these things as a sign from god
Current mood: relieved
what did i discover this morning on my doorstep? mistakenly delivered snickerdoodles from tiffs treats. thats right. and the note was cryptic as well. here it is word for word:
happy scottday!! i hope you enjoy the treats. heres your final clue - we're going to be driving something but it doesnt have any wheels. see you soon armpit puncher.
fascinating no? i ate the cookies and called tiffs with my confession. AND right after i found the cookies i checked the mail box and stephanie had sent me her old credit cards. so that was weird too. AND the dillo dropped my house from its route >:( i dont think its cuz of the imminent strike either, i think theyre just being assholes. the orange dillo apparently only runs as far south on congress as riverside now. well, boo-hoo. i can always complain to you public blog. i guess since its scott day i should give a shout out to all the scotts in my life.
aunt lorettas husband scott
taras boyfriend scott
dailys drummer scott
and surprisingly thats it. not a lot of scotts in my life. oh wait, snickerdoodle scott of course. the last thing thats happened to me like this was the ten bucks i got in the mail for easter addressed to some other asshole from poor old gramma. i told myself i would mail her back the 10 dollars one day. ive still got the envelop with the address so it could happen. one other exciting thing i have to mention is the dead kitten on the street cormer decomposing. yes, its terrible but whats ultimatley fascinating is how fast it decomposed! unless someone carted it away and some of its skin and a paw just stuck to the ground. trey says there would be bones if it had decomposed but i became too preoccupied fathoming the use of my own bones (separate from my body) haunting the world around me to follow through with his admittance of boring reality. cuz which is more fun to believe. that a kind person came and buried the poor thing perhaps selfishly motivated by the stench, OR, it just melted in the maggot heat.
2:49 battlestar gallactica & green tea. time to put on the lava lamp.
Monday, September 22, 2008
us being all hot and you being all manly
maybe it was just bill clinton on the view or the fact that my vacation started today but for some reason i am loving america right now. the gender vote is freaking me out because i dont throw in with people just cuz of their genitals. having a vagina does not make you a feminist it makes you responsible for the influence you exert. its one thing to look beautiful but to turn beauty into a series of sometimes painful obligatory tasks is oppressive. im not taking my fight to the door of those who enjoy modern trends in femininity, being a girl is- after all-supposed to be fun...my question to you is, what do you have to offer the world outside of your beauty and how does your beauty serve the world around you? my concern is that woman find an entire culture of confidence in commercial sexuality that not only belies our true force but binds us to one aspect of ourselves above all else.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Current mood: like i have to pee
feeling other worldly. it could be from all the battlestar gallactica. remember camilla how i came home for xmas that time all wicked hungover at your new place and you were having the bedbug disaster and i just lay in the fetal position on your couch watching battlestar galactica but you were already into like season 3.2 and shit was going down on new caprica? well, ive been watching it from the beginning. and its the bomb! to the point where (i havent been drinking beer so ive been drinking lots of coffee instead) i was gonna go to the drivethru starbucks this morning and i was like, starbuck? omg! i went immediately to walmarts and purchased season 2.3 instead. i got my coffee fix from the macdonalds. sorry. i know its wrong, worse than starbucks. but the walmarts is very close to my house. and the macdonalds is INSIDE the walmarts. if it makes anyone feel any better i got terrible chafing from walking around the place. its fucking huge and im fat. well not fat, though technically obese according to the fat odometer at the gym which i cant ever go back to, sorry finger. but back to otherworldly. again possibly from the BSG & too much TV. i can look out of the car window now and it feels like im looking into the TV. this morning watching the cat sitting in the grass it also felt like TV. albeit a better channel than out the car window at the gas station but still...TV. maybe im a cylon. I still love the TV. ike was on every channel for like 3 days. thats pretty cool. in the northeast everyone is so used to giving a damn they hardly seem to care. in fact id say theyre romantic about extreme weather. but a snow storm is no hurricane. fuck it with the wind? i went to oklahoma thinking i knew what wind was but fuck. i miss new england weather. i cant believe im saying that after the epic winters spent bitching about the cold. but i find myself getting so nostalgic around here in the fall. weather really satisfies nostagically. i dont care whats a word and what isnt anymore. seriously? who gives a damn. made up words are better anyways cuz theyre new like a baby would be with its heritage of old dna. and clearly wakka is a word. wakka of wakka wakka wakka? hel-lo. OMG i saw this fat woman on the street waiting to cross and she was eating, get ready for this, a gallon of ice cream. it was pretty awesome. that was at the beginning of my workday yesterday and at the end some guy singing along to a madonna remix, max volume, in his car at the stop light. no shame. i love it. because sometimes i get so ashamed. but rarely about common shame themes like stupid gross body shit. which is probobly why i cant shut up about hairy nips, cheesy vag etc. im over compensating for silly things i shouldnt be but am ashamed of like, making music (wheras i should be ashamed of my body odor). and dont get me started about working women in heels. i mean, lets just be honest about it and break and bind all their feet. i like to wear my birkenstocks to work. take that i'll-never-make-enough-money-to-save-any-at-all! and i havent forgotten about all of the face piercings. what i really need are clip on face piercings. (i like it when kitty smells something and makes the ferel face.) bottom line fuck "work", fuck "normal" life, godspeed nature luck and art. and the mobile mechanic. amazing!
Currently watching :
Battlestar Gallactica 1, 2.0, 2.5
Friday, September 12, 2008
as long as its not a big pain in the ass wound
and i havent contracted aids or stained anything important around me, i like to look down and notice ive been bleeding for awhile. makes you feel alive in that safe ill never go to war even if the war comes to me ill runaway and bleed alone from my rugburn and cat scratches somewhere sort of way
there she is, miss amerikitty miss amerikitty
september 11th. moms bday! yay! i hate thinking about those bodies jumping out of the buildings or what it would have felt like to be in one of those planes. fuck me. the price is right was really awesome today. drew carey was a good choice. ian says that show doesnt have any producers. sigh.
its also day two of not drinking. dreamt about drinking. was happy to wake up and realise i hadnt brushed off the conviction that my liver is going to explode if i dont stop. or pop and fizz puss. kinda sick of drawing. thinking its time to focus on other ways to humor my boredom. maybe writing songs. no. or just lyrics to songs. maybe get on that rap train. cooking some pasta in the meantime. i think not drinking will help me fit back into my clothes. the obesity rap! i almost forgot. i am going to work on my rap lyrics some more. oo and i like jessica simpson. so what shes an idiot. shes ashamed enough about it that she really sings her heart out. its sweet.
o-b-e-s-i-t-y boy i like my apple pie
peel that shit and cook it good
now eat it like you know you should
o-b-e-s-i-t-y hot with cheese you know my style
id rather die than walk a mile
i use my mind to make em smile
o-b-e-s-i-t-y pass the chips dont wait awhile
onion dip that shit and boom!
aint leavin home
no time soon
o-b-e-s-i-t-y krispy kremes for miles and miles
my mouth can take on any task
id rather chew than love my ass
o-b-e-s-i-t-y floating water butterfly
been on maury and montel
im bigger than a fucking whale
k my pastas probobly ready
Thursday, September 04, 2008
actively bored
Current mood: content
ive been painting, more like wet drawing while listening to a lot of the judges. toler, brown, alex, christina and judy. ive stopped washing my hair as well with shampoo. this is week two and its so fine. i dont know why i ever wasted my precious shower time. although when i absently pinned my hair up with a leaking pen and later noticed my hands were purple from scratching my head i thought for a minute it was some crazy result of not using soap. in reality, we have blue scalps. but no. still, i remain a healthy distance from science and what doctors say is good for you. hog wash sounds gross. im going to begin refering to showering as hogwashing. alternaletley i adore this new gillette razor with the built in shaving foam? my god. a billion rabbits could have their eyes shaved right out of their furry little heads and id never get over how inspired this thing makes me to shave my legs. that coming from a hairy girl. SORRY. i know my primary act as a woman should be to look hot. but whoops i keep growing all of this nasty hair out of my crotch. that bleeds monthly. the other day i did consider how grossed out id be if men bled out of their penises once a month. so, i understand how icky i am. i just cant help it. find some beauty in reality. it could make you sound all worldly and shit. or let porno lies keep making you horny. either way i went to see the accupuncturist yesterday so i dont really give a damn. anger, anxiety, emotion, he stabs them right out of me and then i rush home and slowly reintroduce them all before going back and so on.
stupid tortillas
i cant say enough about the olympics. god i love it. i love it as a lazy person too which is, let me say, VERY satisfying. a few notes on experiencing life from birth until death from inside of a human body in america. it can easily get much much fatter given time and quarters. like a quarter a day over the course of five years could get you real fat in two months.
getting old is fucked up in this very sobering way. i dont want to say it sucks because its a reality and there are worse things than dying slowly over the course of 50 years. but, sobering. for instance the accupuncturist whose totally from china was like, you have children? and i said yeah id like to...later on. and he gave me this look like i was about to walk down murder alley at midnight. he said i should have children while my body can still deal with it. men, can you imagine making a baby inside of your body? i cant even begin to imagine it and im a woman so i have to wonder where ya'll are at on this. my accupuncturist also thinks i should be married to man who can "take care$$" of me. which is actually what my history teacher told me as well in high school. whatever the point is that at a certain point i wont be able to make babies anymore. or i can make babies but they are going to be retarded babies. 2008-04-09 - 10:28 a.m.
instead of the truth ive believed my lies. the choice of fools with open eyes. no love can save what i reserve to conquer death and sate my nerves. hope encourages fantasy in a world designed by many more than me. more than is necessary...too many to be enjoyed properly. armmagedon as the snazzy logo on your childs sweatshirt. the great death--the unfathomable birth. crapping out every hole in your body continuously. how can anyone blame the dalai lama for anything!? i imagine a future i could never conceive. i write in all capitals and ask myself questions like i before e. the natural rhythm of of our lives is designed to change, thats why all of these songs are so startling. one might as well gear up for 90210 on repeat...for all the good it wont do you in a world gone mad (possibly mad from the getgo) 2008-03-24 - 1:35 p.m.
now that i cant talk i find typing oddly inappropriate. im only typing these things. i couldnt actually say any of them. outloud isnt an option. whatever anyways at least i have this option left to me. my silent self shoves mock food into its open mouth signaling to those around me its time to eat. that and the thumbs up thumbs down should suffice during this time of silence due to the frightening alternative. which frankly i cant put into words. 2008-03-18 - 6:41 p.m.
well what the fuck to report. its been raining. the wind has been strong at times too. the usher umbrella flipped inside out on my way to the bank. those umbrellas dont work so well in the wind. i was gripping it with both hands as hard as im able and still was being flung around like some prosthetic legged retard. thats about when i noticed the rain had been stopped for several minutes and wrestling with the umbrella, a wholly unnecessary act. when i collapsed the umbrella i painfully caught my finger in the folding mechanism. ... i couldnt help wonder whether the umbrella was exacting some sort of comical consequence from my perfectly dry head. sneaky fucking umbrellas. 2008-02-27 - 2:30 p.m.
the accupuncturist told me i reminded him of a woman with menopause. 2008-02-22 - 10:18 p.m.
caught myself licking snot off my arm again. aside from that just a lot of lying around. im supposed to be getting things done. creating a pile of crap to ignite my body once ive gone. a lot of ordinary out of the ordinary. i own a lot of red clothes. i didnt purchase them. they were gifted to me by my mother. i guess she thinks i look good in red. the most easy color to oblige! a slice here, a stab there. i got a gym membership. made abig deal about getting it. but now that i have it theres no way that im going. i dreamt about going which i feel should count for something. there was a total moon eclipse, but imissed that. there was some important political shit, but i missed that, there was a 3d U2 concert but imissed that, there were snipers on the paramount roof but imissed that, there was a 26 mile marathon which i caught, but only by default. i should totally be playing online triva right now. i know im good for things but doing them is such a pain in the ass. why am i such a torutred artist? why cant i find joy in doing the things that im good at? why does it piss me off and drive me crazy. and any satisfaction i garner from it i feel ashamed of. im gonna go work on getting rid of that. im scaring myself a little... 2008-02-14 - 9:55 a.m.
my neck hurts because i dove into my bed in the dark and hit the wall. like a soccer players head to the ball except of course i was just going to bed and it was a wall. even though i knew it was the wall i was hitting there was a split second after the crash when i panicked wondering what the hell have i just banged into? how many other actions of mine involve this kind of unecessary confusion? like gorging on pizza and finding yourself full. no shocker there...and yet i always am amazed at how easily my hunger is relieved by eating. combining opposites makes so much sense its unbelievable. so im banking on my hate curing my love or vice versa. hate has a place. for instance, i think i hate tila tequila. for awhile i wanted to love her because i felt obliged to. but now i realize i hate her. similarly to how i wanted to hate the backstreet boys originally because everyone else seemed to. but the truth is always more complicated. simple once deduced but its those complications that take you on an empathetic journey of understanding. lol compelling drama. no one likes to watch a movie where everythings peachy. where's the fun in that? its the alleged nirvana. complications resolved eternally in a blissful existence of unconcern. nothing left to work out, no more puzzles to solve. some sort of utter acceptance of everything without hate or love even rearing their dramatic selves. the fish bowl. the genius fish. the genius trapped in a fishes body. im glad im writing more (half sarcasm, half sincerity) is feeling both ways some how accepting a deeper truth? or am i on a dellusional diaryland tirade? does it matter? whether or not we acknoledge so, YES. a resounding yes and the crowd goes wild. im seriously thinking about writing my musical. sweeney todd was incredibly inspiring. when i saw the play as a kid on broadway with angela lansbury i wasnt moved so much. but the movie as an adult, with queso and beer, was astounding. 2008-01-30 - 12:39 a.m.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
reoccuring dreams on the topic of why i cant sleep
im at college or boarding school or some incarnation of both and neither. a lot of extremely bad behaviored adults awaken enormous evil animals living beneath a pond in the forest. im getting better at eluding all the evil but not combating it. i know if i were to physically fight the crazed adults with guns or the fucking huge crocodile (ala peter pan sans animation) i would surely die or at least have to wake up before my sustained dream wounds caught up with my relatively healthy sleeping self. but i am getting better. two weeks ago he had, disguised with animation and booze, slithered into town charming several female students who took up dancing with him at the local bar. back last night with nothing comic about him accept his absurdly large body i watched him from high in a tree. he bursts out of the water as in a death roll. hes spinning sending black water flying off his body in arcs all around. Thudding onto our soiled surface he calls for the dancing girls each by name. the third girls name, though not my own, fills me with a recognition that leaves no doubt. i am her. somehow. she is me.
Currently watching :
Deadwood - The Complete Second Season
Release date: 23 May, 2006
10:12 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit Friday, March 09, 2007
what did rousseau say??
Current mood: savage
how stark and evasive all of these lines-----man made straight and measured lines----slashing through my natural world////////(segmenting my desire)conning and manipulating me with their perfection;;;;;;------/////i long for the random imperfection of nature
for within natures chaotic design lies a true perfection arrived at not through planning,,,but by intuiting what must be done.....
Currently playing :
We Love Katamari
Monday, January 07, 2008
people who dont pic their nose arent starving
Current mood: blank
not sure what i want to say here, but feeling the need nonetheless to type. baffled, continuing to be baffled by people i just dont understand at all . and i know im supposed to be focusing on the positive and i AM but only via the negative. being able to laugh as hard as possible about the negative will somehow force the positivity as too many exclamation points in all sincerity one could say yelling. for all of my anger im pretty happy, again i attribute a large portion of this happiness to my superior sense of humor with no obligation to be funny. the world is my oyster. what a strange saying. why on earth would the world be my oyster? im summoning everything poetic inside me and i still can t grasp it. oyster, the ocean, the pearls, the discovery of the pearl, the swimming down to pry the pearl free of the oyster, killing the oyster, knowing the oyster is there with the pearl inside of it in the first place, making jewlrey of the pearl and wearing it around like a treasure. a glamourous murder token less passe than the neclace of human toes but luckily for us patagonia and a few other companies are now donating a proud 1% of their proceeds to the planet way to go guys! still with the oyster, the gross little oyster. the world is my gross little glamouros oyster. not sure what to say after that. ive convinced myself i might agree
7:10 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Thursday, December 13, 2007
theres something rotting in the wall again
Current mood: used
i have had it up to here with gender specific manipulation via societal expectation. remind me why i have to dress up like something fuckable again? no, that does not help my self esteem. would i like to make a decent living and not have to wear high heels? let me think about that one. and you fucking guys with all of your fucking dicks. up to here. when i decide to take pride in my appearance because i iove myself, and i walk into the world and guys cat call me...that aligns there desire to fuck with my self respect. and thats a really hard combo to get comfortable with. let alone shack up together for the night. fuckholes. or wait thats me.
1:03 PM - 4 Comments - 5 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Friday, December 07, 2007
one more times ten more days
Current mood: band practice
whats new to report? the nutcracker and the glory of christmas. santas angels flying down from the north pole/heaven to imbue us all with the consumptive spirit. making a gift of gluttony. subtlety inherent among the actions of anger and pain, the loving forgiveness. or eternal hate i suppose. im just not psychotic. can barely spell it. i dont think i know any truly psychotic individuals. (this is not an invitation to be psychotic) i am bewildered by these psychopaths, and unfortunatley captivated. fuck holes. decaptivated! hack! head rolls...egg rolls, dinner rolls, sushi rolls, car tolls, bridge trolls its all the fucking same. any difference only directs you back to the commoness. what is everyone doing right now? its friday december 7th at 1043 pm central standard time. mother fucking specifics. i understand now why old people cant keep up with all this bullshit. what? more numbers? its all variations of the same 10 numbers. precisley why i fare poorly with ultimates. left and right, right and wrong, up and down, in or out, yes or no. fucking all of them which pretty much includes everything. so im basically screwed or enlightened or whatever.
10:26 PM - 2 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
my default foto/witch face
i would lose weight and grow long/shave the appropriate places if guys would leave me alone.
1:43 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Saturday, October 20, 2007
my default foto/kitty sushi roll
Current mood: fucked up
i am not shoving my cat through the arm of a sweatshirt. i found this picture on cuteoverload.com the hand looks like a preteen hand. i am not an advocate of torturing animals. i try to avoid all products and cant even bring myself to eat their furry delicious bodies without feeling horrible guilt or being really drunk. not even fish. those eyes! i mean, i love meat as much as the next guy its just the murderous in many cases evil reality of it that i cant stomach while chewing. ive even helped kill animals. i dug a hole to bury their entrails and eveything. that was in 1998 and i still feel like we commited a murder. anastasi, his white t shirt splattered with blood standing over the hole tossing dirt in with a shovel. he had been responsible for the actual beheading of the pig. we also killed some baby goats. their killings were a lot easier to sit with because they didnt scream. so ANYWAYS. im not shoving my cat through a sweatshirt hole in my default foto. but i dont judge the preteen hand because i as a preteen put my cat in a pillowcase and swung him around out of the window. thankfully ive grown alot since then. now i brush my cats and buy them cat gynasiums. i wonder how many cats had to die for my cats to have their gymnasium. maybe no cats died in the making of their gymnasium...maybe. bottem line, when i tell my pets i would never eat them they have to believe me. and im a terrible liar. even with other species.
11:31 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
a big fuck you from the animals
Current mood: paranoid
i got a filthy keyboard but at least i can type keyboard instead of eyboard. what im struggling with now is why i left a pile of spilled tacks in the middle of my floor for at least a week. probobly would have left them there longer if i hadnt the other night obviously stepped on one. all i can say is that i like living mildly on the edge. i would never go out of my way to try anything like skydiving. but tacks on the middle of the floor i can do. my toe was pained and i did hobble a bit the next day which could in fact, this inconsequential act,alter the course of my life entirely. (an exciting but scary reality) simple things casually veering your destiny off in another direction unknowingly. or not. but its a thought. maybe my whole tack act is a reflection of the control we attempt to exert on our very vulnerable lives. but that sounds like art crap. im proboly more interested in the wound itself although i could never be a doctor who deals with the responsiblity surrounding and inside of the bleeding bodies. ive been told i could do diagnostic doctoring. from home. online. using web md.
id also like to take this oppotunity to complain about people with really fucking big cars. what the fuck is your problem? unless youre in a band. and even then i feel the van should be used only for tours with bikes and maybe that new tiny tiny car utilized during the rest of the year at home, local gigs being played acoustically with volume increasing only by the force of hand, voice or addtional players to the band. its suspicious how van rhymes with fan. im also confused on how im supposed to love my fellow man when he pays so much money to be an asshole.
6:45 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Friday, October 05, 2007
real life with all its pain is oddly more mundane
its so hard to listen to anyones dreams with any semblance of sincere interest but our own personal dreams aappear as on film screens ept rolled away in the bac of our brain i thin about the fact that im dreaming as i dream i dont thin this is the same as lucid dreaming because i dont effect change in the dream i just am aware that it IS a dream last night they sent me to a retirement compound i favored a cafeteria building dubbed "the aushowitz dining hall" i made several friends there and slowl y we peiced together (based on the suspicious fact that all of our ages totaled didnt amount to a decent ifetime) that we werent actually retired! we were being held against our will under the guise of retirement! i escaped in a green truc which was stic shift i do thinigs excellently in dreams that i have never attemtped in real life and harbor a pride similar to one i would if i actually had
11:38 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Thursday, October 04, 2007
fuc
i havent been writing at all lately eep in mind for the dureation of nay posts to follow that the button and the period and th e erase or delete button and the enter button do no longer function on my computer due to a beer spill recently so i aoplogise for my even more so runon s as the period and comma button are broen too oh well at least the whole fucingthing isnt friedand as magical as an event as i find editing to be i now give it up forcefully free facing the consequence of a life lived it seems sill6y to go bac and try to change anything ((paragraph)) for the sae of clarity i find grammer to be worthy bu t the constaant question of clarity brought into focus by the eternal rot creates an essential space wherin we must interperet change
2007-06-27 - 7:50 p.m.men and women. men and women. men and women. men and women. all existing on planet earth as two parts of the human whole. and it is undoubtedly a mans world. i cant escape the female body. if i want to take pride in my appearance i will have to endure sexual attention directed towards me by strange men so i can never be wholly comfortable while taking pride in my appearance. my appearance becomes separate from myself. instead of being the physical manifestation of my soul my outward appearance becomes representative of man/societys iconographic preoccupation with the female form. call it beauty but it makes me feel uncomfortable being beautiful. i have been taking strides to feel at peace with this. most recently ive been invisioning my body as something i slip into similar to clothing in the morning to make sense to and succeed in the world around me. i imagine i have shopped for and had tailored this suit so it will fit me very well and comfortably. 2007-06-07 - 1:09 p.m.
i understand why people dont like celebrating their birthdays. its a lot of pressure to have a good time and be loved. 2007-06-07 - 1:01 p.m.
driving home the other day there was an attractive couple in an open jeep driving in front of me. the woman, in the apssenger seat, was combing her hand lovingly through the mans hair. curling it through her fingers and the like. he just kept driving and she just kept rubbing and i just kept watching. after about 5 minutes she lowered her hand. everyone around us must have been watching as well. a car without walls revealing such an intimate act. way better than an accident. 2007-06-06 - 12:40 a.m.
ive been housesitting for my neighbor. which translates into sitting in his apartment above the garage all day long smoking inside and watching tv. neither of which goes on in my house. the fucking tv. my lord. i feel silly muting the commercials . i like the daytime tv that appeals to children and old people. all the fucking inbetween aged people so easily lose sight of the bigger picture. i guess theyre just too busy spending money or something. but seriously, trying to reconcile shows in my mind like reading rainbow and CSI, not easy. 2007-06-02 - 11:24 a.m.
being able to locate lost items takes some life skill. thats why adults are so good at finding shit because they know how to think about the situation logically enough to find whatevers missing. where as to a child, chirst, it could have litereally disapeared into thin air, been abducted by aliens, trolls. you name it and their crazy little minds can conceive it. but notso much with adults. we've beaten that part of ourselvers senseless in order to obtain another sort of sense, a rational sense out of need to function in this world. so we say as adults, if i come in there and find it your in big trouble, because we know they CAN find it if they only beat that imaginative part of themselves sensless for a second and made some rational decesions. but teaching children life skills shouldnt equate squashing their precious point of view 2007-06-01 - 12:57 p.m.
today is june first and the mosquitos are definitley back en masse. im bitten all over the place and im not the type of person to discipline myself out of scratching so im now covered in little round scabs. which is an honest improvement to the entire squares of skin that ive rubbed away and have had to scab over in the past. i also cut my own hair. since doing so ive woken up most every morning with a new and dis-improved haircut then the one i gave myself two weeks ago. maybe three. time is slipping through the cracks again. whosa wha? time. you know the order of events in our life. not today but tomorrow. not yesterday but the day before that. another fucking frame of reference that id be just as suited living without for awhile. but not just me. everyfucking one. trey and i have been watching deadwood. they use the words fucking and cocksucker to describe most everything. its redundantly refreshing. the goddamn cocksuckers whove been remodeling the fucking house next door invent new and disturbing din to wake me up with each morning. i hate those cocksuckers with all my fucking heart. in addition the godamn roof they put on the fucking house is made of some sort of cocksucking metal that reflects this fucking awful cocksucking white light through our godamn dining room windows. my neighbor just stopped by and i mentioned this and he said that everything pisses me off. but thats not true. he just doesnt give a shit, and ive found a frightening amount of men dont either, about lighting. when i told him this he tried to convince me that men dont like to be confined to space and time because of their zigzagging semen. dude, whatever. and everything pisses me off because i bleed out of my vagina one week out of every month. im so glad we understand each other. i do feel rather pissed off. DOES everything piss me off? kitty hardly ever pisses me off. nature, besides blood sucking bugs doesnt piss me off. people really piss me off though. and loud noises. and i dont exactly live in the country so i guess i am pissed off all the time. i dont know what happened. i use to love people and loud noises. it must have always been certain people and certain loud noises 2007-05-22 - 10:24 a.m.
i just cant take much more of women parading around in hot outfits rubbing food products or balancing a knife or gliding a sheeny ribbon along their supple exposed flesh. and its not that im not all about those things. i AM. i just feel as though sex is sacred. god i sound christian. i want to share in the beauty and liberation of a womans sexuality but somehow that liberation seems to cheapen and even bind what was originally trying to be expressed. its like listening to the same song over and over again for your entire life. the same picture of a woman on a billboard reclined sideways seductively sipping on a phallic beer bottle exclaming ooh right there like that. turning on the radio and hearing "sexy" female voices talk in near erotic terms about cars and cleaning solutions. and tv is some horrid slutdom combination of both forcing 3D horniness on everyone. i cant take it anymore. what i really want to do but unfortunatley erased my paint program in a fit of random frustrated file erasing but what i really want to do is take the images of women in bikinis being carted off by topless men with wild grins and shes probobly sucking on something in lieu of their collective cock, like a straw in a mixed drink. so i wanted to go in and just photoshop some innocent little pubic hairs onto her bikini line. thats all. i think that woud make me feel a world at ease. i spent an hour last night researching my vagina on wikipedia. if that doesnt sum up this whole situation i dont know what better does. maybe if i lived in another country the guys would be less agreeable to these sorts of images outside of the sanctity of their own bed (um im turning into a christian) i just feel like sex is this extremely special thing that only i get to do with my partner and to use that to sell shit really ruins it for me. and this is old hat. again, fuck you world. 2007-05-21 - 7:46 p.m.
writing to write. not a lot to say. abusing the ac and the environment. facilitating the deaths of nameless rats and mice by phoning the exterminator due to a scratching i heard coming from inside the walls. reading about people going outdoors online not becuase of my unemployment but due to a true lack of interest in going out of doors. there is a very active pool across the street from my house. i dont ever go over there except to sometimes buy the paper from a vending machine at the foot of their lot. i would just corrupt whatever attractive fun they were indulging anyways with my grotesquely pale skin and bad self given hair cut. thats about the excitement. there are a shit ton of snails living under our porch. they all come snailing around whenever it rains. i step on them constantly and im making an effort to avoid them so god only knows how many countless deaths are occuring out there evrytime it rains. i witness there poor squashed bodies baking in the sun rather calmly while smoking a ciggarette i dont want to be smoking. good times. the weather is however fantastic here as of late. again, not that i go outside that much. but i have noticed. 2007-05-17 - 12:59 p.m.
im supposed to be writing. thats what everyone says. even the stupid pychic whom im convinced only mentioned it because of the sizeable callous on my right middle finger. but every time i sit down to write lately i completely forget what the hell it is im doing and am incapable of squeezing even the slightest word out. that, or im able as im doing now to describe my inability to write anything down. which people also say is the way to write yourself through writers block. just fucking write anything. yes, write about how you cant write. its still writing. like drawing can run the gamet from anything to enormous painting to chicken scratch. if the intention behind the act was to create something i feel appropriate in naming it art. so i type type type away until something interesting leaks out of my racing fingers seeps into the circuitry of the keyboard through the table like alien acid blood burns through the floor through all of the soil and crust and plates and molteness through the center and revists the trip in reverse sufacing on the other side only to continue spiraling thourgh the universe until it runs into sigournaey weaver in a space ship and then she gives it a real run for its money. is there any point in typing any of this? am i actually helping? sigourney weaver in aliens? ill never be able to separate myself from pop culture. i almost forgot about eves wild animal claw breast tatoos until i saw them in an ad online today and it all came rushing back. maybe if i thought of myself as eves wild animal breast claw tattoo it would help. im just, truly not smooth enough. i kinda for the first time wish i was a guy. its on par with my desire to dumb down, and i dont mean that in an offensive way. just that being a woman has SO much to do with the way you look and im not shallow enough to get into it. but im insecure enough to worry about it. because all of the girls in the porn and in the bikinis and with the smooth bodies shave and shower and get dye jobs and waxing and bleaching and painting and nose jobs and later face lifts and tummy tucks and liposuction and shopping and little brushes to apply your lip gloss made of the testicals of roosters and tooth whitener and an assortment of gels and creams and sprays and balms. its just enough to make you want to be a guy. is that ironic? in an ironic way? i have no idea. i should have been born in tibet. and i would have just ridden around on my donkey and herded sheep and slowly gone blind from glaucoma. i cant wait until everyone is old and unattractive. but the female body is iconic and there are always young people to represent it. fuck you america for making me hate my body. im going to love it in spite of you. and by loving i mean eating one bowl of food a day. well, im real glad i just wrote all that down. jesus. it makes me want to drink. i like to think of myself as an indian concerning my alchoholism. 2007-05-14 - 12:21 a.m.
2007-04-29 - 4:15 p.m.a lot of stuff belongs to me. i try to pare it down but im constantly recieving/creating so much of it that throwing any away doesnt seem to help. trying to organize becomes difficult since most everything i own is junk and doesnt fit in any functional order. items like tape and pencils, super glue and sunscreen, these things have a place and can be put there. but the bulk of objects belonging to me serve no real puporse outside of their own existence. hence the junk drawer. a sustainable indimidating entity rich with memory that resembles itself less and less clearly as i grow further from the person i was who collected it all initially. but more to the point. finding a place for something that no longer makes sense to you but that still exists within your life. clumping all items that bear resemblance into a junk drawer that serves no obvious purpose to adults...and being an adult. i want someone around who vibes with the junk drawer more than anything else in the room. more than the expensive clothes and the tailored sheets. the purchase of a dresser (containing the junk drawer) that you spent hours laboring over. a rug to tie the room together. things a parent must consider. a crib for the baby. an insurence policy in case anything ever happened to the baby. but what about the junk drawer? the considered center of most mystery to a child. the effing art. the thing that makes you want to cry from having a dayjob to support the child who appreciates the junk drawer for you. i fucking refuse to care, top five concerns, about money. its all blood money as far as im concerned. 2007-04-23 - 12:08 a.m.
the older i get the more i believe that time travel is possible. as someone who hasnt experienced a lot of it time feels very fresh and vital. each moment so conclusive and final. but later in life the time all bleeds together. the moments are distinct but lack a certain interest in themselves. nothing seems so drastic in the face of death i suppose and a calmness sets in. a familiarity with the routine. which gets me thinking about time travel. lets say i do the same thing for ten years. time travel? 2006-01-07 - 1:18 p.m.
2005-07-12 - 3:58 a.m.
if its a given that we are going to die then we must concieve of alternate lives. so in the meantime..in the midst of living this life we must consider the way in which we shall remember one another in the next life...or perhaps more frightening how we have rembered one another up until this point. in the past life 2005-07-12 - 3:58 a.m.
if its a given that we are going to die then we must concieve of alternate lives. so in the meantime..in the midst of living this life we must consider the way in which we shall remember one another in the next life...or perhaps more frightening how we have rembered one another up until this point. in the past life
