07:42 pm - I have bronchitis/lung infection thing.. and no internet. Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth You pull on your finger, then another finger, then your cigarette The wall-to-wall is calling, it lingers, then you forget Ohhh how how how, youre a rock n roll suicide
Youre too old to lose it, too young to choose it And the clocks waits so patiently on your song You walk past a cafe but you dont eat when youve lived too long Oh, no, no, no, youre a rock n roll suicide
Chev brakes are snarling as you stumble across the road But the day breaks instead so you hurry home Dont let the sun blast your shadow Dont let the milk float ride your mind Youre so natural - religiously unkind
Oh no love! youre not alone Youre watching yourself but youre too unfair You got your head all tangled up but if I could only Make you care Oh no love! youre not alone No matter what or who youve been No matter when or where youve seen All the knives seem to lacerate your brain Ive had my share, Ill help you with the pain Youre not alone
Just turn on with me and youre not alone Lets turn on with me and youre not alone (wonderful) Lets turn on and be not alone (wonderful) Gimme your hands cause youre wonderful (wonderful) Gimme your hands cause youre wonderful (wonderful) Oh gimme your hands.
10:03 pm I can't focus.. i need to have this essay done by 11:30am tomorrow.. i've done one paragraph and all the notes and bibliography.. but fuck my brain won't work. Last night was weird.. i got a little too high and went out with johnny to mod night at babylon. Weed seems to have a strong effect on me and it intensified being surrounded by so many (hot) people. The the beer made me sad. I just kinda wanted to sit and think.. but instead i stood by johnny and his friends rekha and chris on the dance floor.. trying to blend into the crowds by mimicing the dancing which i found myself unable to perform because my thoughts took up all the space in my brain. All the people.. the paranoia.. there were hot women but i would have been completely unable to make out with any of them because my brain was broken. I felt the pain radiate from my heart to my brain.. i wanted the alcohol to make me numb but it only seemed to intensify the pain. Time seemed vacant and i could feel the past ghosts of the place in the present.. haunting my mind. With people who look like people you knew.. and you don't see them just the memories plastered on their face like a mask. Then the sad song plays and you choke on the pain like psychosomatic lumps of fat in your tissue. Then i question my sanity.. repeatedly.. its no coincidence that i'm writing my essay on the tell-tale heart and the black cat because they demonstrate repetative thoughts.. troublesome.. until the final deed is done and the member in reality castrated. They kill those that cause horror in them.
"Even when Poe's perverse characters are not artists in language, paint, or music, they bend to murder or to suicide all the craftsmanship of the fine artist. Further, their impulse to destroy is as intuitive or unconsciously compulsive as a juror poeticus: they are "inspired to kill" and practice a fine art of killing." 291
"For these artful murderers in Poe's fiction, even the most perverse and ghastly assassination is a technique for the attainment of that blissful Unity which we have identified with the perfect artistic work. Obsessed with their separatenesswhatever has caused it-from others, they slay; and to kill the other, the thing or person outside, is both symbolically and finally to give up one's own life. The destruction of the victim means the union with him in death.22 Several of the murderers just enumerated "assure their own end" in killing another because a fatal retaliation awaits them." 292 Current Mood: frustrated Current Music: cat power - half of you
06:34 pm My dealer said weed is medicine. It makes me feel happy to be alive and content with my own death.. because all i do is look at the sun and clouds and i know that i am nothing.. but i need the sun to exist. We should worship the sun not god. We shoulden't worship anything really. Well there is no should and shoulden't really.. just mind matter and morals. Appreciate what you have.. be moral and repress all that is not moral. Thoughts just happen and you have no control over them.. you control which thoughts enter reality and become actions. You think about the consequences.. and decide if its really worth it.
06:31 pm There's a space man in my basement there's an IV keeping time beside my bed and a painting of Jesus wandering for a dart board you know he's seen you naked a million times
I long to be dead and sleep with the fishes under the sea they can swim through my head and stop all the traffic jams stop all the traffic jams and there'll be no light tonight if I'm fated
There's a cartoon killer in my livingroom cut you open like candy and pull out your little wound like tv dinners for the third world and amputee dancing girls you try but you fail cause you're bad at life and good in a vacuum
I long to be dead and sleep with the fishes under the sea they can swim through my head and stop all the traffic jams stop all the traffic jams and there'll be no light tonight if I'm fated Current Mood: sad
03:13 pm when i start cleaning i realise how disgusting everything is.. so much dust. it took me about an hour to put on my new bike lock.. its still in a bad spot but my bike is weird.. and yeah when i was going through the tool box i FOUND THE SPARE FUCKING KEY FOR MY OLD LOCK!!! ..now alice these things happen.. !!!
- $30 dollar library fine - $72 debt at the art store - "if you don't pay you can't graduate" - probably a lie but can't risk it. - bills i owe evan - scared to ask how much they are. - medication (i heard effexor isn't being made anymore? wtf!)
so yeah.. fuck.. and i have to finish this fucking paper NOW.. oh and i'm quitting smoking which might be why my pathetic and somewhat kicking myself in the ass - self-defeating life is pissing me off more than it might.
my room smells like wd-40, window cleaner, floor cleaner, and dish soap.. choke. Current Mood: irate
04:34 pm "During her erotic seizures she would hurl blasphemous insults at her victims. Blasphemous insults and cries like the baying of a she-wolf were her means of expression as she stalked, in a passion, the gloomy rooms.
The girls bore this painless punishment in agonizing amazement, because they never believed it to be possible. Darkly, they must have felt terribly humiliated because their nakedness forced them into a kind of animal world, a feeling heightened by the fully clothed 'human' presence of the Countess, watching them. This scene led me to think of Death - Death as in old allegories, as in the Dance of Death.
To strip naked is a prerogative of Death; another is the incessant watching over the creatures it has dispossessed. But there is more: sexual climax forces us into death-like gestures and expressions (gasping and writhing as in agony, cries and moans of paroxysm). If the sexual act implies a sort of death, Erzebet Bathory needed the visible, elementary, coarse death, to succeed in dying that other phantom death we call orgasm. But, who is Death? A figure that harrows and wastes wherever and however it pleases. This is also a possible description of the Countess Bathory. Never did anyone wish so hard not to grow old; I mean, to die. That is why, perhaps, she acted and played the role of Death. Because, how can Death possibly die?
Like Sade in his writings, and Gilles de Rais in his crimes, the Countess Bathory reached beyond all limits the uttermost pit of unfettered passions. She is yet another proof that the absolute freedom of the human creature is horrible."
pizarnik where have you been all my life? Current Mood: busy Current Music: controller.controller - disco blackout
12:39 pm i had an awesome dream last night about a girl i don't know/have never met.. if only she existed in reality.
lately i've been questioning the existence of people i know in reality/my own sanity.. wondering if they are hallucinations that my brain has invented to satisfy itself in some bizarre and obscure manner. however, i fear that they might actually exist and that i really just wish i could invent imaginary friends. i'm not sure why this though fascinates my brain.. perhaps because i have no proof of the existence of others.. its always possible that any evidence is fabricated by some alter-ego.. anyways.. this thought pattern goes no-where because what does it matter whether people are real or not.. some seem real while others don't. Current Mood: my womb hates me
09:49 pm caffiene doesn't make me productive.. the internet makes me depressed.. fuck.. thinking makes me depressed.. i need to get my mind focused on my assey.. yes i'm writing about elizabeth bathory.. "the bloody countess".. i should be excited about this.. but the fear of the rath of my english prof failing me prevents any pleasure from occuring. i have bad grammer.
there is too much bad in the world.. too much bad. too many thoughts.. and evil intentions. the vampire is the other.. the under-bellie..
"In Modest_Witness @ Second_Millennium.FemaleMan_Meets_Oncomouse (1997), Donna Haraway beckons us to the figure of the vampire: she initiates us into the rituals surrounding the vampire’s nutrition, the rituals of blood. As she writes, “A figure that both promises and threatens racial and sexual mixing, the vampire feeds off the normalized human, and the monster finds such contaminated food to be nutritious. The vampire also insists on the nightmare of racial violence behind the fantasy of purity in the rituals of kinship” (1997, 214). If the obsession with strictly defined and rigidly upheld boundaries haunts western conceptions of subjectivity, perhaps the figure who lives by crossing those boundaries tells us something about how they are made and how they might be dismantled. And so I turn to the vampire, that figure who confounds corporeality itself." Current Mood: mischievous Current Music: bif naked - vampire
10:34 pm I seem to be really good at fucking up before i've even started. Today was depressing. I saw a bachelor appt that is 400$.. its basically a back shed turned into a room and toilet with a sink and stove/fridge. Its a pit.. run down pit.. but affordable. i'd have to sign a year lease.. which sucks and the landlord seems weird. I don't know why i said i'd take it.. desperation of the moment.. i'm going to call tomorrow and make up some excuse/lie.
Our psych class was on existentialism.. yes.. lovely i feel so great after being told how meaningless life is.. and how yes indeed one day i'll die. thank god.
I don't want to be an adult.. with a stuffy adult job.. working till i die.. a meaningless life because i feel powerless to give it meaning. I feel like i'll never leave this fucking city.. i'll never try to sell my art. I have way too much shit on my mind right now.. i need a new job.. a new appartment.. a new life.. and yeah to finish this semester. On an optimistic note i got 90% in my psych midterm.. which only really says that i'm not stupid when it comes to studying. Current Mood: stressed
03:10 pm i have no energy.. my bed is the only place i want to be.. my head feels drugged.
i need to tell my doctor that the meds don't work.. they make me a depressed zombie.. but then it'll be more meds.. i thought he'd realise they don't work when i cut myself.. apparently not. Current Mood: tired
interpol - stella was a diver and she was always down
this is the some i used in my video.. i guess some of the lyrics don't really go with my video.. but its more the feeling of the song that i picked it for. Current Mood: blah