Jul 2000
- Jul 5
- Trying to Fight Fate
I know what everyone else wants, but I can never figure it out for yself. Typical melodrama of course, but you've got to add some spice to life. Too early to give any useful details away anyway. Got to find a proper way of exposition.
· Read more… - Jul 6
- Rhymeless
Ideas: the Satyrcorn, and ridculomalaria
· Read more… - Jul 7
- Averted Madness
Averted madness, I will now write in crypticisms and perhaps try to make some sense of this. I should have been born Roman, tring to interpret all these augries. Or perhaps the priesthood is my calling?
· Read more… - Jul 9
- Dichotomy
Definitely crazy. Time for some electroconvulsive shock therapy.
· Read more… - Jul 9
- A Very Bad Disease
I have a very bad disease, of which I am not entirely sure I wish to purge myself of, that being, I feel that I am mobile when I seek control. (No, no going back, just keep writing this dreaded spew, I feel like I've gotten diarrhea both mentally and physically, no stopping, goddman it, not even a moment to gather my thoughts. I've never felt this angry, sad, maniacal all at the same time before.) I am everything I wish I were not or I wish I were everything I am not, some sick shit like that, so alone. No one can possibly understand it, or is it (yet, most likely) some goddmaned egotistical conceit, as if no one had ever taken this path before, been squeezed tight by obligations and filial duties you never know when the handcuffs are coming down, latching to your wrist.
· Read more… - Jul 9
- After the Binge
So it's like the morning after the binge, and all that you can really do is puke it all up, hoping with each puke that it'll be the last, you'll feel better, the deadly poison gone. But you've been drunk often enough, you know it doesn't stop, not even when you're all empty. It only diminishes, like a knife blunting with every true strike, until you force yourself to hold something down, damn the pain. And still you're empty, unsettled, disturbed mentally and physically, wanting to die just as much, if not more than when you drunk yourself into a stupor in the first place, worse because the woozy carefree oblivion is now just a wracking throb, and why, oh why, is it so goddamn pointless?
· Read more… - Jul 9
- A Wonderful Fucking Day (The Conundrum of Living on a Razor's Edge)
Oh shit, can you tell I am having a wonderful fucking day?
· Read more… - Jul 9
- Conundrum
Tried to make a few calls to help me solve my conundrum. Wouldn't you know it, no answers. As I suspected, this is something I've got to do for myself.
· Read more… - Jul 10
- My Soul is Screaming
My soul is screaming.
· Read more… - Jul 10
- I Am Too Happy to Know What Time It Is
See the problem here is that Sisyphus is cheating. It diminishes the true (futile) achievement. Fuck it all.
· Read more… - Jul 12
- Gray Morning
It is interesting that N has adopted (independently [of me]) a fatalistic flip side to my theory: Nothing is real until it is shared. While I would emphasize the fragile
· Read more…transcience1 transience of creative thought and the need to commit things to paper if direct communication is not available, she would declare that bad things wouldn't happen if you didn't mention them. It isn't just a simple aversion to ill-speaking, but rather, like I said, a type of fatalismm: if you imagine a bad thing, and share it, it can't help but come true… - Jul 14
- Escaping
Well, I am escaping, really. I know this is true because the treacly, molasses-like, sappy feelings in my heart are still stirring. I cannot put her out of my mind (I do not want to put her out of my mind) and I marvel at AB's fortitude, given that he has much more going for him… (what I would give for a sligh fraction of such hope) and still he is sure, he will not turn back on his path. I, with much less hope, am willing, still unsure why I must walk this road, this road likely to lead to my damnation, if I cannot hold it in.
· Read more… - Jul 18
- Self-Deception
…I know this deception well, writing (scratching, really) onto decaying matter, dead sinews of a tree, thinking I am capturing some pure essence of life, not just me, but all around me. I do nothing but observe, I, the weaver of these many threads of lives, otherwise unsung. I am breath of Life, immortality. I give voice. I represent.
· Read more… - Jul 21
- Ludicrously Sunny Morning
I feel so subnormal. Abnormal I could handle, but this is a realization that I am not fit to live this life, that I cannot fight, don't even wish to fight, and I'm just waiting for oblivion to swallow my head. More melodramatic bullshit. I don't feel like I can handle a crisis right now. I'm not strong enough to rebuild the walls, not deal with people. Goddamn, why can't I deal with people? This is easily the source of all my problems. I get all achy, shivery, dying. What do I do with people?
· Read more… - Jul 23
- Question
But, question, should I spend any more time with [redacted]? At this ridiculous distance, there is really no hope, but, hell, I can't let go. I am compsing an e-mail in my mind as [I write this]. I will feel so lost if I just let go like that.
· Read more… - Jul 23
- In Transit
I can only survive in between. I tell you, it'll be a miracle if I wake up happy tomorrow morning. I really don't want to deal with this shit right now, but I made a promise, and I don't want to try to force myself to go to sleep.
· Read more… - Jul 23
- The Purpose of Being Male
See, males are not strictly required for the propagation of life. Human life, perhaps, but in time, the human male may… become anachronistic.
· Read more… - Jul 25
- Three Weeks Off
OK, I'm slacking. There's a lot of shit to do. I essentially have another three weeks off… I only really have class on Mondays and Tuesdays. I really have to force myself to write every day. If I had known… I would've really wanted to take a trip somewhere, but it's too late to get a cheap fare. I must write that e-mail to [redacted]. I don't know why I even bother. This is going to drive me insane.
· Read more… - Jul 26
- Resignation
I don't know why I didn't feel so bad today. Maybe I've resigned myself to my fate. Maybe e-mailing everybody and their mom let me vent a little. I mean, sure, I balked a little when I saw [redacted]'s e-mail sitting in my inbox. [I was] afraid. But [reading it] I didn't feel much, just a [light touch] of regret. I've no intention of returning to L.A. any time soon. As I've said, I've begun to equate it with happiness and [also] with being trapped.
· Read more… - Jul 29
- Fate
I got my ass outside, felt the air, hit the scene, accepted that I am in Chicago and this is my Fate. What is it that I want to do with my life, what would make me happy? I say that [I want] to be loved, but what does that mean?
· Read more… - Jul 31
- Thought Police
OK, this writing every day deal isn't working out so well….
· Read more…