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|Saturday, November 12th, 2005|
|who knows anymore?
So I poked myself in the eye with map quest directions the other day gave myself a corneal abrasion which contracted a bacterial infection. I am totally the king of cool and suaveness I know ::bows:: thank you thank you. So I have these eye drops that I'm supposed to take every two hours. OK that reminded me to go put more drops in and I just got an eyelash stuck in my eye in the process what a pain in the ...eye! So lately I've been alienating myself a lot...lately ha!...the duality of my nature seems to get the best of me time and time again I keep trying to strike a balance but I'm always bouncing back and forth. I am a sexual creature whether I want to be or not. But I am also someone one who believes that an overabundance of physical intimacy most often leads to psychological trauma, at least in my case. I can , for the most part, avoid physical intimacy, but for some reason I still see everyone sexually I can't avoid it. This manifests itself in my actions my gaze my speech. If I were gay and living in the 1960s perhaps I could be institutionalize and electrocute these thoughts out of my head. (disclaimer this is my own martyrdom manifesting itself I apologize for any MISInTERPRETATION that may lead one to think that I seek to dismiss the suffering of the gay community in any way shape or form). I simply wish that I could be cured of desire of the physical so that I could function properly in the realm of the social. Unfortunately this would probably result in me becoming entirely antisocial, which in someways might me desirable. Rather have no desire for companionship than have an overwhelming desire for it and be deficient in obtaining it. I think I may want to much of the world. I meet more new people each year than some people meet in a lifetime and often-times they're more than worthy companions. But in ever changing and nuanced ways I find ways to alienate dismiss and extricate. I've been thinking about the role of faith for most people, to be able to create a person in your mind who is all powerful, or rather to in the case of the true believer "believe" that this entity predates your own existence, as this one ever constant your whole entire existence could come crumbling down but you would always have this sense of stability derived of the believe in this constance force that presides over you. It's a powerful thing. But I am not a believer, although at times I wish I was. I do have faith however. Faith in what we have. While people of faith believe that it is the God entity that ties all creatures together, I believe that it is the common human condition, just as in the Saw movie where all of these people are put into a locked complex. It is that fact that we all face the same reality that we all breath the same air that we all fear the destruction of the same planet that we all starve without food, these are what ties us together. I saw a lecture this past thursday on the work of Pope L. the lecturer, Darby English, said that Pope L.'s work was to be a kick in the ass to get us to realize that we are all like the homeless figures he portrays, dispossessed. We are all homeless to some degree or another. This is the human condition: we all want what we don't have, we all yearn for explanations that cannot be given. An english professor at the local hometown community college I took my senior year of high school at once told me "There are two fundamental truths about (hu)man: 1. We are sexual. and 2. We yearn for forbidden knowledge". It is dangerous when certain people possess the believe that they can circumvent these defining characteristics of humanity. For instance when someone believes that they have all of the answers, or that they have all of the answers available to them, they no longer have a need for the comaraderie of the human condition. They believe they have circumvented this condition, often through religion. This is dangerous. If you are part of an exclusive group of people that are outside of the suffering of everyone else, than what are those people to you? Ok maybe I'm merely conspirator, paranoid delusionist. But these thoughts are not of thin air. They exist more or less. for thinking. I think I'm gonna try to not be creepy and stop at java's before band practice to be friendly like and get some cider and a scone and say hi, maybe do some writing for an hour or so. Current Mood: overcast w/ glimpses of sun
|Sunday, November 6th, 2005|
|hair clenching eye-rolling gut-wretching internal dialogue
in a world full of misplaced futures,
of anticipations turned mutilations.
stomaches perform contortion acts
while pulmonaries pitter patter
somewhere in my distance mind a silhouetted figure attacks with laughter
this is not what you expect he cackles
how rarely vivid imaginations may write their own realities
and gardens begonias too often appear
quite unlike their depictions on packaging
be gone nows are plucked and handed out like fliers
to dreamers and liars to those who deceive
to those who believe that mumblings of love and happily after
will ever result in an awkward approach that warrants no laughter
no smiles or twinkles
in eyes that are vibrant and lips that are supple
sometimes such devout orchestrate their demise
with far reaching thoughts and voyeurist eyes
but everyday life with its governing rule has final say when it comes to such fools
conspirator deviant ernest but foiled
wishing and hoping in vain
he bows to the law
that muses whom inspire will also confuse
imbibed in his brain with a ravenous stew
of case after case and rue after rue
This must come to an end
so logically soundly he resists such urges
for no such thing can come to be fiction
no matter what setting no matter what diction
fantasies of such kind are better left locked inside
for they tend to befuddle good intentions belied
god this sucks so much
I wish this wasn't happening right now
I mean it should be a good thing but because I'm socially retarded its as good as riding head first in a little red wagon down the slope of a three story house roof...without inflatable floaty wings.. and not into a pool
so um I'm not sure at this point how not to screw anything dealing with emotions up so I guess I shall have to avoid it?
which is a terribler plan, cause then I'll never get any better at coping, but it has to suck for everybody else. I mean I operate on such a seemingly intellectual level and then I resort to the emotional responsiveness of a 12 year old. so immature. so I guess boycott on intense(like campers) emotions for the time being, god who'd of thought infatuation would manifest itself the same way libido does. the more you suppress it the stronger it comes back, hmmmm, like dandelions. it was good for me to write this out, even if I still feel like I act like a seedy fellow when under the influence of emotional responses I suck at channeling. oh well, just have to focus on school work and stuff.
|Tuesday, October 25th, 2005|
|I'm going crazy
this is going to make me sound clinical but I was seriously considering castrating myself today. That is how frustrated with sexuality I am right now. I'm completely enamored with the idea of eunochs. I really wish I had the power of lady macbeth "unsex me now." It always gets in my way I want to be strictly plutonic but as hard as I try to suppress my desires they resurface tenfold. I find myself perpetually and equally attracted to and repulsed by everyone. I can get off on any image. I feel like I'm a voyeur, with no preference as to what enters the frame so long as the frame is there. But its not even strictly visual, its tactile as well. Just to touch some one is very fullfilling. But ultimately once I interact with someone and realize that there are real consequences to my actions time and time again, I am rudely awakened to a sense of utter repulsion with myself and the idea of what sexually connotated actions represent. I somewhere deep down believe that procreation is the only reason for sex and regardless of sexuality whether it be queer or straight, recreational sex is an unnecessary distraction from a life of progress and creation. I believe that marriage as an institution with its ceremonial consumation is detremental to the development of said goals as well. There is no necessity for institutional permission to be granted in order for a loving relationship to take place and to require such permission and the institutional domination that springs from it, is to deeply doubt the capacity of the human "heart" for genuine emotional symbiosis. I don't buy into church sanctioned marriages on the religious level in part because they are twin tongued in there justifications, preaching monogamy while allowing for threesomes with god. If I or anybody else should choose to make a decision to be in a committed covenant of "love," I don't want god or the state butting into it, unless for some reason I or we as the case may warrant decide that a commited group relationship with those entities included is a pivotal factor in are individual and collective desires. The point is getting into bed and the state should be a choice when it comes to romantic commitment, not the default. People look at me like I'm crazy when I tell them I never want to have sex, and it is partly because of the this bias that romantic commitment must be mediated by church and/or state I think (and ok a little bit of darwin too I suppose). While it is acceptable to be a celibate priest, and to save yourself for marriage the decision to not have sex with no commitment to god and no intention of procreation is perplexing to most people. ANd while the state may in some places throw negative light on deviant sexual behavior, surely this is a move to strengethen what is deemed to be normative sexual behavior rather than to supress sexuality on the whole. So my personal choice runs contrary to both the prevalence of church and state views on sexuality, but also sets itself in some ways against the behaviors which those institutions oppose. I am not asexual in the sexual preference sense of the word, I would prefer that I was, but I am not. It seems to me that sex is a dominating and predatory act no matter how it takes place. There is always going to be a dominant and a submissive. Even when these roles shift back and forth the resulting act is still ideologically violent. I spent several hours tonight reading a theology posting wherein the debate over where the moral root of homosexuality lies, and ultimately I choose to wash my hands of it. to circumvent the whole project. Identity packages and marginalizes groups of individuals into neat little subcategories for co-option and cataloging by dominant culture. Anonymity of identity maintains resistance against dominant culture through the establishment of signified without signifier, for co-option very rarely takes place on the direction in which a sign points but merely on the signifying apparatus as a trope. So while "gay" is co-opted by cultural niches like "queer eye for the straight guy" and "will and grace" visibility of the sign is created but the signified meaning behind said sign is mutilated and distorted. This call for anonymity of individual identity requires a conjunction with collective efforts for change from groups identified strictly by what they seek to change such as the non-discrimination committee, or the equal rights movement. By splitting into the equivalent of target markets the "preaching to the choir" syndrome is increased dramatically and the ability to reach the ears of those who need to hear the message the most is diminished. This is all well and good in theory but the tremendous pressure that the individual faces by remaining in identity limbo is somewhat tramatic. I desperately want to stick to my guns here but honestly the more I contemplate it the more depressed I get, and instead of a stance it feels more and more like a criminal sentence. I falter and blame falter and blame. I tell my self that autosexual behavior will be a thing of the past I will not seek pleasure through hands and pornography, and the more I succeed to overcome the stronger the drive to falter becomes until eventually sex drives win. Identity springs back and I find myself depserately flailing to categorize myself again. and all for nothing ultimately because I find that I defy any easy categorization, and the mroe I contemplate it the more complicated my identity seems to become. I eroticize and commodify every human being I lay eyes on. I wonder to blind oneself, is that a form of castration? I find myself disappointed with others' own sexual weakness but not nearly as much as my own. I find myself strongly opposed to "real sexuality" preferring instead (if left with no other choice but to except that sexuality resists complete erasure)to pursue the myth of sexuality, sexual fantasy. In parallel I am totally and absolutely opposed to drunkeness in other people, I see it as absolute and total weakness and vulnerability that is actively pursued and through the fact that it is of active volition equates to idiocy. I need not get into other drugs, the same holds. Socially I as of yet cannot offer any plan of attack. Social behavior is the defense and support of life, and therefore absolutely vital to survival. But the degree to which social interaction carries is variable. It may not be necessary to achieve love in a life time, and in some cases one may only need mostly acquaintances and the occassional close friend. But human interaction in no can be relinquished; it must continue as anchor to reality. Friendship is very important but may become complicated by perversions into romance. May it be clear that a romance is not a friendship nor is a friendship to be considered a romance. The two classification of interaction may exist in close proximity to one another on "the" spectrum but they are decidedly seperate. When a friendship becomes a romance, much like when a sober person becomes a drunk one the only thing that will allow the latter to become the former again is time. So here I wait full of blunders. Identity-less, social-less, antisexual, perpetually drowning in the mollasses of my psychosis while simultaneously trying to eggbeat it all into cookie dough enabling my escape into delicious stability. I'm far from cookies, I'm not even mixed yet. But someday(I'm paralleling season 7 buffy here, but hopefully without the inherent sexual connotation, well ok just do me a favor and ignore it k?) perhaps when I'm cookies when I'm done baking someone will be there to enjoy the finished product. Current Mood: distressed
|Tuesday, April 5th, 2005|
|ok so now I'm becoming an absolute lj whore
So i've been thinking about how I'm picky. I've decided its not necessarily a bad thing so long as I still have people to hang with. I think I'm kind of arrogant in a bad way in this class I'm taking it's cause it's not easy and I don't prepare for it. and I don't know how to keep my mouth shut so I usually end up saying the most retarded things. Not obviously stupid things just tangentially irrelevant. My professor thinks I'm a moron and awaste of time. At least MY sound theory prof. is nice enough to pretend he doesn't mind that I don't know anything about anything yet still attempt to be insightful. He enjoys teaching. But she, being the former professor, is of, to some degree, the school that rests its foundations on input output of work. Nah, wait that's not right I'm being reductionistic. She just doesn't want to waste time on the obvious. I wonder if the rest of the class feels the same way. Maybe I really am wasting everyone's time. I enjoy the readings we've done on queer theory although I've yet to read them closely and in their entirety, ok or at all. I wish I could just sit down and read everything, but when you're a slow reader and an even slower writer sometimes it gets so frustrating how much there is to actually do that you run away to more passive activities to avoid being a slave to academia, which ultimately reduces to: i guess I'm lazy. I wish I were without desire for distraction via internet and tv. I wish I were so zoned in that I wanted nothing more than to read and write 24/7. But that's unfortunately not the case. I hope to get closer and closer to making it so though. need to return to the phallus and lacan I'm just about to wrap it up. well either it or myself one or the Other. yeah this entry blows. I need to expose myself to the world. I decided. not like peewee herman. like someone who let's her true self shine through. Lacan says that's at odds with signification. I say. pshaa. damn. that girl taught me things. some of them good. toodaloo.
|Sunday, April 3rd, 2005|
ok so I know the last entry had a shit load of of contradictional terminology, but as long as the point of it didn't get too convoluted and someone or other finds it making some amount of sense I'm content. so I'm off to hopefully turn this intellectual momentum into a lacan paper.
|I don't even fucking know anymore
I've been in awhirl wind I haven't been able to write I haven't been able to concetrate and I've overall felt really shitty since I met this girl at a party and I hate how girls tend to be the sole ctalysts in my life mainly becasue it reminds me of how much my mother tries to control me and that is in part why I constantly let girls be the catalysts in my life because as much as I hate it , it is familiar. i have been pretty sexually compulsive over the past week where as when I first met ctalyst girl I stopped altogether which I aquainted to liking her and comparing psychoilogically o my mother which in turn led to the conclusion that when I emotionally invest I sexually divest cause mom sent me anti sex messages when I was little. As in don't touch yourself that's disgusting. And making sure my hands were always over the covers. I started jerking off again. A considerable amount. And I started really to question my sexual and gender identity. Everyone calls me a girl. I am not quite so sure that its all fluff. I really do feel other to the whole cultural identity of maleness. I have been reading Lacan. I have concluded that I never successfully navigated through the oedipal complex, nor did I get out of the phallic stage. It is not other people that get me off. It is me. I am in a way egosexual. I see other people as interesting in a fictional sense in a sexual fantasy sense. But when it comes down to it I don't want sex from other people. I'm not sure if that makes me asexual because I love to get off. I enjoy in a socio-emotional way getting other people off. But not in a sexual one. I am not sexually attracted to other people per se but I am attracted to other bodies in a sexual sense, and perhaps that is how everyone is I really don't know, but I divest sexually when I invest emotionally. Sriving me insane because I could say I'm bisexual which I feel is true of everyone as a whole, but am I really attracted sexually to both men or women or am I attracted to neither. I don't think it is accurate to call oneself bisexual by default. I honesty believe that I objectify people who are hot across the board. I was looking at porn and found a few very attractive transvestites online. I don't know at that moment I was really psyched about the idea of finding myself a trnasvestite lover. But ultimately I think about sex in the same way I think about suicide or torture, as a fantasy that is not to be acted on. Not acceptable. The strange thing is that with sex it seems hyper-acceptable. Everyone has sex, even so-called straight edge kids are sluts practically. I just don't understand it really. Everyone tells me I should do something about me. To be talked to like one of the girls is a bad thing. At a certain level i want to be able to own my identity, whatever it is. perhaps i am just a effeminite man, who doesn't look effeminate. but may dress a little weird. I don't know issues of tranasgenderness come into play. but i am very wary about labelling myself anything. and ultimately labelling myself is fruitless to me. it serves apurpose for others. labels higher function is to compartmentalize and tuck people into corners. I tend to do it to write people off. keeps people at adistance. I've decided that i am fond of antireason. I don';t know what it is yet but I know that reasonable people tend to over look the human factor in most situations they tend to reduce life situations to if p then q where p is a living breathing mother of 4 who was raped at the age of 13 and who works three waitressing jobs to support her family and q is a construction worker who was beat repeatedly by his father for playing with dolls and who acts that agression out on the living representation of those dolls. even my discriptions are too limiting to provide an accurate scope but people are much more delicate and intricate things then most fields of logic give them credit for. logic and labeling are limiting and they miss the point. when someone is so incensed with logic that they can say to me, "i really find people who try to commit suicide pathetic, I have no respect for people who do that." I lock on to a key phrase which may seem to be out of context but is far more telling than one might think, "I have no respect for people." To reduce the person to the ramifications of the action is irreverent at best. Yes the act does show a repulsion from society, but in so much as society's gaze is forced to hesitate on the spectacle it is also a cry for attention. Drastic times call for drastic measures, goes the saying, and suicide is by far one of the most drastic. Suicide by definition, is often described as an act resulting from the expenditure of all means to cope with distress. This young lady who serves as my opponent for the moment, claims that she has thought about suicide at times but that she got over it and that it is the individual's responsibility to solve her own problems without help. I find this drastically flawed and believe that 1) if she did not attempt the suicide she obvious had not exhausted all of her outlets for coping. and 2) that to reduce all problem solving to the responsibility of the individual to some extent suggests a kind of social parallel to a successful suicide. She is obviously not a very successful follower of her own philosophy if she hopes that every individual must solve their own problems. to be fair however, lets say that I am oversimplifying her stance and that she believes in limited help for the individual. she may believe that counseling is permissible but hospitalization is selfish on that individual's part because it uses up resources that someone with a physical ailment might need more. This girl wants to be a clinical social worker god help society. Regardless of her stance, I believe that it is folly to look at the physical act of suicide in relation to society with out attempting to ascertain the psychological motivations for the act. Suicide is not something that may be interpreted structurally. The signified psycho-social implications in this case bear much more weight. just as a white flag during wartime isn't interpretted for the fabric it's made of, suicide is a sign, what's most important to ascertain is what it signifies. I personally believe that a successful suicide attempt is one that results in the attention and help the committer desperately wants. One that results in death should ultimately be viewed as a failure, not so much on the individual's part but on the part of those around her, and most of all on the part of a society whose structure allows for such things to happen without concern. My problem lies in a society that allows for someone to feel justified in claiming, "I have lost all respect for her, she tried to commit suicide, that's so pathetic."
|Tuesday, February 22nd, 2005|
|this is ridiculous
OK so within the past two weeks I'm realized way too many things to process.
1. I resent my parents and pity them simultaneously (I'm sure there's love in there somewhere)
2. There is nothing I can do to change someone's past or her choice to reside there.
3. I am not ready to be in the kind of relationships I am seeking out.
4. I do this on purpose because I want to prove to myself that people aren't worth it.
5. This is Bullshit.
6. I should seek out stable caring people to be my friends.
7. Every crest has its trough.
8. If you are a stranger in a room full of friends you will always feel alienated.
9. I don't like the indie holier-than-thou-art-attitude especially when its about liking the more obscure and crappy garage band.
10. Garage bands suck.
11. I need to go back and listen to old school punk.
12. My actions do not define my self worth.
13. Calling people when you are sleep deprived is STUPID.
14. Dream Theater is theatrical but not dreamy.
15. Derrida is not a NAZI or NAZI sympathizer he's just a pretentious intellectual who likes to overcomplicate things and use precisely abstract language.
16. Essays Don't write themselves.
17. I am a caring person who is not always selfish, somtimes I'm even downright thoughtful.
18. I would really like to play an open mic night, but I am scared. I should do it anyway.
So this past week has been not a lot of sleep and a lot of school work. That said right before I crashed on thursday. I called this girl from one of my classes who has been overly friendly and not unlike a moron I asked her point blank if she was interested in me. Completely blew 4 weeks of towing the line straddling that ambiguous realm between friend and potential. Man that was ever so not smooth. Turns out she has ::drum roll:: an exboyfriend! ONe might ask "but ryan did you not just say 'ex' before 'boyfriend'?" I did indeed my friend but in this particular case as well as oh i don't know the past 3 or 4 instances of my interest, she wants to get back together with him or he is sick and/or a drug addict. Were pity ever so sweet to stir this dormant heart? Regardless I pushed the issue so now I have to be the not friend not romantic interest guy. The acquaintance classmate guy. I want to play my acoustic stuff, or play bass for aband. In actuality I don't have time. But If I'm not going to have any friends, which seems pretty likely considering my inability to seek out the proper peiople for the job perhaps I should fill that void. Anyhow I must force myself to type up this analysis of Dissemination and Phaedrus by Derrida. It's gonna be like eating delicate crumpets with a blind on in front of the queen of england with my feet which my sister has previously painted various shades of pastel. FUN to the MAX. Night all. Current Mood: listless
|Wednesday, November 17th, 2004|
Long time. Paper long overdue. Girl didn't give me enough phone calls. I gave her too many. (and for the record that happened to me twice in a row with two different girls)Worked at regal. Now I don't. Was virgin. Still Virgin. Re-re-renewed vow of celibacy. Never again bitches. I'm just too easily defeated emotionally by your lack of interest. Therefore I will trump you. I vow not to care. I will not look for love. And what's more I will turn down the potential for it. I'm sick and tired of dealing with the getting there. I don't have the patience to be your rag doll. Your once in a while physical affect. So fuck it. It's all or nothing so I choose nothing. I have plenty of stuff to keep me busy. I have friends and I can make more. Friends are way cooler than romantic entanglements any day of the week. So to recap: stuff happened. Then Some girls decided to play cats cradle with my ventricles in duo-succession. Now I'm celibate and looking to enjoy friends and hobbies. Word. Oh and I kicked caffeine to the curb. That is all.
|Sunday, August 1st, 2004|
|Sunday, June 20th, 2004|
|It's official: I now no longer have a pot to piss in...
no job. no money. no food. and in about a month, save for an intervention by something external, no home. I love my life. I feel so free. nothing can touch me except for me. And I'm sadomasochistic. Tomorrow we fight for our life with pieces of paper. where to all these people find jobs I don't get it? I guess I have to start trying even harder.
|Saturday, June 19th, 2004|
I'm trying to defy my nature but it's wEaring on me. I'm not sure how long I can continue not to be lazy and self absorbed. Actually even trying isn't very succeSSful. I am lazy. I am self absorbed. I am not a giving person. I try. But trying a little isn't enough. If I am to be giving, motivated, and interested in something other than myself, I have to change. And that's a lot of hard work. It also requires a certain amount of self reflection which really defeats itself. I don't know I'm bummed because I read that one of the few people i have been showing interest IN (person i) has invited someone else I know (person p)to some kind of event they're throwing (at least that's what I gathered). I don't really know person i very well but I gave them my phone number about two weeks ago to hang out and they haven't called at all. And I'm beginning to think they're talking to other people who know me and finding out how (123 everyone) 1. selfish I am, 2 ungiving, and 3. lazy. But then again you don't really have to do research to realize those things. I'm sure IT'S probably pretty apparent to anyone who's not those three things. I just feel really alone. And I know it's my fault. But that doesn't make me feel any better that makes me feel worse. See it's one thing to be alone. IT's another thing completely to be alone with someone who wants to beat you up for causing the isolation in the first place. So here I am again sucker punching myself which also does no good. The only consolation I can find at this second(probably not the only but remember I'm lazy) is in the fact that at least I'm writing this all down so I can read it later. I blow off so many people. And then I have the nerve to be a wounded puppy when they don't blow me off but just don't invite me (which in my opinion is a far nicer way to treat such a situation). Truth be told this whole rant is ridiculous because I don't REALLY know these people, nor do they REALLY know me. They wouldn't invite a stranger to a party they were throwing. I wouldn't expect them to. But for some reason I still wish they had. Prolly all of this is a combination of the recipient of the letter in the previous entry being up to visit my roommate, and my stupid crush and resultant feelings of inadequacy towards person i. I know I have a crush because I wrote a song about person i. IT's really sappy. Usually this is an indication that God will hear said song and hate it so much that certain events will be put into motion to prevent the subject of the song from remembering or desiring me in any form whatsoever. So I should have held out and not written a song. BUt I couldn't hold it in any longer. PRobably has to do with the mindset I generally get into after a song. I probably start acting differently towards a person after I write a song about them(SUPPOSING NEGATIVE IMPACT). So I guess I'll think about cleaning and doing laundry cause that's what I do when I'm depressed. ANd listen to old pop music rock emo anything I can wail to. Roommate and his g/f(the recipient) are going to the beach to watch the sunset. So I guess i can't go there. I really wanted to but it'd be intrusive. maybe I'll look online for somewhere with swings. I just want to mope around and cry and swing my irrationality away. I care too much what other people think of ME. I care too much... of ME. The truth is probably close to: I care too much that other people don't think of me. BEcause I give them every reason not to. This whole entry is proof. (IF NOT A SCREAM FOR ATTENTION)
|Wednesday, June 16th, 2004|
|wierd how i go around in circles
..and my lexicon changes but I just keep repeating myself
like the airport automated greeting machine saying hello in 100-something different languages over and over again all day, It has been a very long time since I have had anything worth saying in here, indeed, it has been a long time since I have had anything worth saying period. But I stumbled upon something today that seems to want to be posted here. A letter I wrote to my first major crush during my freshman year in college. See I, painfully aware that this is the very thing that I go in circles about but am going to address anyway, am not exactly socially smooth. One might even say that I am burred. Clingy but somewhat destructive in the process. I encourage people to reject me. I know somewhere in my brain it's obvious why I do this it probably falls down to some variation of a perfectionist complex and feelings of inadequacy in being able to live up to my own expectations. In addition, I believe, specifically in the romantic realm, that I view individuals as being potentially an extension of myself(or at least this is my tendency). Thus I hold them to the same impossible standards that I would hold myself to if I weren't constantly running away from them or closing my eyes and pretending they don't exist. Unfortunately my method for dealing with unachieveable standards has yet to develop the ability to distinguish things that are merely challenging from things that are impossible. Put simply I have become incredibly lazy. I am only interested in the things that I know with a relative degree of certainty that I can do well. And if the day comes when I become a failure at those few things, I will probably cease to try them if I remain on the current path I'm on. But all of this was to a certain end, or at least that was my intention. I blew it with that first girl of my dreams from a romantic perspective for obvious and previously explained reasons, but I piggy backed a friendship with her through a mutual aquaintance my best friend, and from my current perspective then, my only friend. She wanted him. And I liked her a lot still(this is entering the realm of stereotypical livejournal material shame on me). So In an act of uncharacteristic selflessness, although I suppose the fact that I'm saying that implies that I am seeking credit for such a thing, and that is selfish in and of itself, I pushed for the two to date. And they still are. BUt that began the summer after the year I graduated from highschool. And That fall at college was one of the more difficult times emotionally for me because of many things but I remember crying a lot about her and him. Many stupid songs, many ridiculous feelings, many tears shed over something that I myself should be too self absorbed to experience(or at least that's what most people would have you believe). Maybe I was crying over something equivalent in my mind to a ferrari that got totaled in some one else's but I thought it hurt. I found a letter I sent to her when I decided to finally give up on her, and I wonder if maybe I gave up on other things too, but it made me realize that although the way I say it changes, just about everything that comes out of my mouth means the exact same thing.
Just writing to see how life is for you. Not necessarily
expecting to get any real answers seeing as I have become alien.
But that was a choice I made. This is gonna sound weird when
you read it. I am purposely being vague because I have finally
realized that no one really wants to hear about it. It would be
selfish on my part to assume otherwise. People seem to prefer
happiness in others. People seem to prefer happiness in
themselves. Happiness seems to be delusion. Delusion seems to
be accepted widespread. Though it is not real. I know this,
but realize that nothing here is any more real than delusion is.
I will no longer be the sentimental dreamer. I will no longer
see the tears in the stars. I will go out at night and seek
"fun." I cannot concern myself any longer with matters of the
heart as they are irrelevant. I'm convince that love is too rare
to look for. Seeing as I am not of the mind to marry any time
soon I see no point in searching for anything concrete. This
dual world I live in seems to make longevity an impossibility.
I wish only to enjoy those little things I seem to pick up in
recognition. I'm sick of looking through the trees. I want to
just see them, smile, then move on. I apologize for wasting
your time. Seeing as no one can possibly enjoy the progression
of my plan for living. I'll try not to be such a nuisance in
the future. also don't want you to think that that's a plea for
pity or sympathy or compassion or any of that. It's just
acknowledgement that I know you have more important things to
attend to than my ramblings. That is all. Hmmmm.....Wonder why
I even wrote this then?
|Tuesday, November 18th, 2003|
|Repression is Obsession
Philosophers and theorists
Writers and schizophrenics
We are the visionaries
The pillar blocks of our society
and the rest of the world prefers that we stay where we are
cemented in its foundation
But it is our very nature to up heave the structures above us
We are the dirt that the roots of society cling to
but dirt must shift
it is in it's nature to do so
and society as it is has a life time to live and die in
So inevitability the dirt will tire of holding the roots in place it will let go
and the tree will fall into space
The foundation will leave the society to crumble only to climb to the top to build a foundation while the former's still collecting dust
like the game of hands where one is placed at the bottom with another above it and a tower of hands is born
But the object is for the bottom hand to reach the top and the game can never truly be won for there’s always a bottom and there’s always a top
and the top soon becomes the bottom because the bottom wants to be the top
That is our society
But as artists we serve as the bowl in which this jello shifts
But when the bowl melts and mingles with the substance it holds what then?
When everything turns to vibrating molecules and the game no longer has a limit what then?
Can you feel the foundation shifting?
Can you here the mortar cracking?
You build these structures claiming they divide the warmth from the cold
You call them homes
We deconstruct them
You say they’re basic needs your fake eyelashes and your manicures
Your consumer weekly is pornography
It came for me the other day
The mailman put it in my box instead of yours
I may not know my exhibitionism but your toasters play cds
Your cars no longer have keys
Fucking like monkeys
Shelter is a tree
You live in a house the size of the Hilton hotel
With fences to keep the lesser off out
Do you understand what nymphomania means?
Indulging indulging and never withholding from doing what you please
You call this civilization
You call this modernization
We’re dancing in circles fertile and naked
The fire is blazing we’re fuck-craved and naked
We live in bigger heaps of dung than the other guys and gals
Because that’s what makes the top of the heap special
The higher the tower we build out of shit
The farther from nature we think we can get
The greater the distance between man and ape
We’re fucking like monkeys on a larger estate
“My house is bigger than yours”
“But your cock isn’t”
“I just got my nails done”
“But your boobs could use a little work”
Leave no stone unturned and you’ll realize that we as artists have failed our society
We are the foundation of a building that never stays built
Constantly shifting the bottom scurries to the top the top falls to the bottom
Artists become commercials corporations become art
See all we really are is a series of individual orgasms
Like the nymphomaniacal monkeys we seek to live above
Civilization is primal
Society is hot wet and turned on
And we’re sleeping in the brush
But we wake up tired only to sleep again
And as an artist I apoligize
For being so civilized
For being human being
Like a monkey
as a side note I will admit that today I have come to the conclusion that there is only one person I truly loave uncoditionally as a friend, sad but true
I feel that the majority of the people I know just don't do it for me
I was perusing through other peoples live journals today and I wish I had the close friendships that they have
and someone told me that I should stop trying to find out about her once because she's not as interesting as I think she is and that I would be dissappointed because I find out that she probably is "pretty damn basic" I understand how that works now see I am not - as much as sometimes I could benefit from being- "pretty damn basic." In fact, I am proabably a long haul from even being close to that. Because at some point in time I decided that it was a cool idea to try to be so complicated that no one could figure out what was going on with me. What a fucking moron. does he honestly think that will make him betetr than the people who have hurt him in the past? obviously I do because I'm still doing it. regardless I cannot have what she has (m, l, a) (apologies I'm a voyeur and I know it's wrong) teenage girl I am not. I have made myself this way but I choose to remain the same. I am alone I am arrogant and I am unwilling to play by society's rules. well maybe I'm not arrogant don't you have to know things to be that way. I'm intelligent but I am not smart I know next to nothing. especially when people are involved. I wish I could find a job where people didn't matter a life where people didn't matter but I am human and alive so none of that is a possibility. I feel for strangers more than I do for the people I know. Once I know you I disown you. I find something that makes you disagreeable to my impossible standards and consider you unworthy. I'm sorry. I do. and it doesn't fix anything because no one really adds up. And when they do it's from pure pesevearance some external desire to get to know me actually I don't even know why he stuck with it, I'm insuffereable, most people don't have faith in the human race. and the ones who do rarely want anythig to do with me. at surface level I am worthless, I bare no extrinsic value (i'm making up words left and right) Jen is a nice girl but she is very naive about sex or so it appears I really on't know nor do i deserve to know, she irritates me in my perception as such because it reminds me of my own past when I was similarly niave about such things and for some reason it makes me feel superior and inferior all at once because yes I know about it a lot more now but at what cost at the loss of this blissful ignorance at the loss of a lack of hormonal insanity, I like her I don't know why I'm still trying to push her away, I'm still testing her I'm still testing everybodywhat gives?!! why can't I just accept people. I'm not asking you(self) to accept all ideas all objects or even behaviors. Just accept that people exist and that they are ok the way they are. am I so completely terrified by incompatibility that I won't even allow myself to be befriended save for an act of god?!?! Why exactly do I feel this need for people to be so compatible? and what the hell do I know about compatibility anyway? sometimes I wish I knew more people but then I wonder if I can allow myself to know people in general and not zone into specifics, if I was a rock star or a VIP maybe the people who appreciate who and what I am would come to me but would I recognize them?
|Friday, May 30th, 2003|
I am a pathetic loser. I go around attempting to become friends with strangers. The only reason for this is the fact that I am social deficient. It hurts less when it's someone you don't know rejecting you, it actually makes sense. As oppossed to being flat out demolished by someone you know and idolize. It is the perfect setup...I'm not failing because I'm an emotionally unstable neurotic freak, I'm failing because they have no reason to want to know me. It's funny how fear of failure so often leads to forcing failure. It's all about me. Me, me, me. Selfish desires for the world to surround me rather than simply being my surroundings. I would not wish my passive-agressive advances on anyone, which is in part why it generally happens with strangers, therefore I relent. I have successfully alienated some one who is alien to me again, woohoo give me a gold fucking star...to the skull...Strangers are more like characters than people to me, which is probably why it's impossible to be anyone's friend for long. People are not just fucking characters on a tv show. I know what I'm saying I comprehend it but for some painfully unknown reason(I'm being a selfish bitch to people for no reason) I'm unable to break myself of the habit. I'm addicted to the fantasy of people. I love not knowing, but still interacting, but with the goal of finding out. The only problem being once I know you you're no longer fiction...you're real...and boring...and mundane...and beauty dies for me the second I realize you have a point of view: you're not reading a script or playing a character, you simply are what you are and for me that is frightening, confusing, self-destructive, alien, the death of metaphor. interlude: I just found out I can take Jonah's 4x15 bass stack to the rochester show that's gonna rock so much. But reutrning to the matter at hand I'm a complaete and utter fuck up and will go cower in the corner like a 3 year old with a seizure because I like the corner and I can't stop shaking anyway...and I belong there...
P.s.-I'd like to commend everyone in my life in agreeing to not express any friendship towards me save association...I am a loner and should remain so...I'd hate to have to kill you for breaking my loser streak...welcome to self-deprecation land where everything's two-cents or less...need to stop thinking...need to stop using brain all the time... stop thinking about not thinking...I want fix this... but everything that comes out my mouth is a loaded statement... I drop bombs on the neighboring villagers before they have time to evacuate. I impulsively lash out and on to the curious-looking passerby and attempt to drain them, to eat them aliveI'm a fucking parasite feeding on identity. I have none of my own. I am nothing and no one. Stranger understand that I am nothing and noone to them, which makes me feel at home there. But to be loved in the most simple way, and I mean nothing of romance...to be appreciated simply for being who you are, to be invited to join the fun, to belong; that is peace. I hope I find it before I rest in it.
|Thursday, May 29th, 2003|
|oh how i love my job....and it's only been two ten hour days
i am typing this with one hand, why? you ask, because i can't currently ,move my other hand as it is loaded up with ice packs. You see my hand, my thumb if we must be specific, is very sore. but i guess that's how thumbs are supposed to feel when you misfire a nail gun at them... it felt like a bee sting...really weird...gushing blood...heres a band-aid see what you can do they said...translation: get back to work...tis' but a flesh wound...and i have to play bass for endive saturday in rochester, i need to be able to go nuts on stage but it's the thumb i use to brace the neck of my bass... if it fucks with my tone i'm gonna show them a fucking "flesh wound" or maybe i'll cry like the whiny emo brat that i am...i'm just gonna tape the sdhit out of it (my thumb), take some tylenol, and have a sodaor two(seeing as i have to work saturday from six to 10 in the morning and play a show from 8 or 9 until 12 i will be dead. but that's rock for you...charge death. like a supernova beautifully exploding to death. shut up emo boy...goodnight ladies and gentlemen..don't forget to tip your waitresses. Current Mood: drained
|Monday, May 26th, 2003|
|No one really cares
no one's there to tuck you in at night
you thought you'd find the perfect replacement
but here you are alone again
still staring at the ceiling
awaiting for your last arraignment
this wasn't the arrangement
that you had in mind
you never got to read the contract
but remember it was signed
and now you're facing shadows on the white
staring at the blank-faced ceiling
wishing someone cared enough
to read a story kiss your forehead
leave and say goodnight
before the darkness steals the light. Current Mood: sarcastic
|Saturday, May 24th, 2003|
|tired but resilient
Last night good have been a complete and utter failure at having a good time. But I am proud of myself, because it was not. I went to one two band show without paying anything(which seems fair to me as the kid at the door(good ole' chad sopp [though I almost typed "sad chopp"]) was charging a full five dollars when only two out of the five bands scheduled to play were playing. When I got there the degenerates had only a high hat, a bass, a guitar and a guitar amp. They wanted to use my bass amp, I knew there was a reason I left it in my car...so I left them use it and then this goateed (later I found out college flunkee) guy was like does anybody have a keyboard? and some guy was like yeah so they left and came back with a keyboard so that the degenerates drummer had a "set." It was looking like a complete and utter joke of a show until A Moment After showed up and it went sort of like this, "We're really glad you guys could make it. Could we use all of your equipment?" the show turned out all right. It could have been a whole lot worse especially if I had paid for it ;D So then I was sitting around for a while in the parking lot afterwards trying to figure out what to do next. and Jami from endive showed up after just about everyone had left of course, which was funny because ordinarily he would have come in time for the closing band but because there were only two the show ended almost 2 hours early around 830. after much deliberation we decided(jami, myself, and Goat master flunk) to go to ithica to catch the wownet show that started at 8. The bands were pretty good for local scene (much better than are poor little attempt on this end of route thirteen). I got to talk to mike about the side project and we may practice with him sunday if jonah and chris are up to it. should be fun the weirdcore should get a bit weirder. and hopefully a little bit more dynamic as far loud/soft, clean/distorted goes...
ok so I'm writing at this point because it's really the only thing I can do. My father's using some rented machine that makes it sound like theres a speedway in the house, he started at around 7am because he has to get it back by 11am. This does not work well with my schedule, seeing as I got back last night at 1 and got bed at 3. I don't really feel as tired as I think I should though which is a good thing...I think. Maybe it's just decieving..regardless. I hope to get a phone call from someone I don't know yet today. Current Mood: groggy
|Friday, May 23rd, 2003|
|I am not a sappy boy I am not a sappy boy I am not a sappy boy i am not a sappy boy i am not a sappy
I grew up somewhere
with more people
more open people
I wish they were down to earth
and i wish that not one of them was afraid to speak what's on her mind
I wish I knew unconditional love
and i wish I recognized it enough
to hold on to it for a while
just enough to make me smile
to make frowning impossible
oh what lovely people
that sit on their porches
and wave to their respected neighbors
We all look so very different but are conditioned into similitude
THe people I wish for are on the opposite side of the mirror
If the world were different
If the world were new
all the people I cherish all the people I knew
would become those that I hate
In a world where everyone's different like me
Can't you see
In this world I'd create
We would be all the same
and the few with a name
would seem deserving of hate
Said by a confused traveler as a raindrop fell from heaven's eye.
I concerned that I will obsess over people i cannot touch, or rather will not touch. Decisions seem less like decisions when backed by conventions. I shall have hope that there are others in the world that bear resemblances to the images of my dreams. I apologize for being so abstract it seems to be all or nothing with me. It's as if there is no door to my soul only a borded up hole in the wall, and when you tear the board away, like a band aid, my soul comes gushing forth, but when it is sealed air tight, I am alone. I'm being quite dramatic who am I performing to? Wish I knew. The leaders of tomorrow are the children of today. The walmart greeters of today are the 401k's of yesterday. I am drowning in my own verbiage, can I say anything that even resembles a transfer of intelligent information to someone whose reading this? I like film...and reese's pieces...and poetry...and music...and wishing I were an eleventh grader with a greater awareness of my surroundings...and how to escape them...I wish...no wait..i like...conversation that makes you think or feel overly sentimental...movies that make me cry...movies that make me laugh...music that makes me cry...music that makes me think...hmmm...I just like anything that makes me cry or think...that doesn't sound too healthy....thinking makes me cry sometimes...overthinking I should say...which is not exactly what I'm doing now but it's close...this is like autopilot for me...you who ever you are are probably attractive...seems to be that way...many attractive people...studying the bug-eyed speciment...I am immortal..."I am the lizard king I can do anything"...i wish I lived in a tv show...maybe...I'd at least like to give it a try...I wonder if I'd find something wrong with it...I wonder if living somewhere else makes somewhere else here where here is always miserable...because of me..."blame it's the cure for anything"...I just turned on the tv...conan o'brien...mindless entertainment somehow good...I like... laughing, thinking, crying, expressing...that should sum it up. Current Mood: tired envious melancholy
|Wednesday, March 26th, 2003|
|stupid writers block
Been trying to write this paper for two days now
I have two stinking paragraphs and they're measly pargraphs at that. So what am I doing? Propagating more not getting it done now-ness by writing in here. how stupid.
I don't feel as if I am conscoiously aware of my thoughts write (point in case) now which makes writing an essay difficult to do. my eyes hurt to my brain. I want to sleep but this was my extended due date for this paper it is absolutely necessary that I email it to my professor before she wakes up tomorrow morning. even that is strechting the deadline. a good student would have got it done on time. a bad student would have got it done for the class on the day of the extension deadline. I'm not sure what the fuck I am. I had this grandiose idea to make this paper "so amazing" but it's just a stupid undergrad paper. I should not treat one assignment as if my life depends on it and then immediately treat the carrying out of the grandiose plan as if the assignment is comepletely meaningless. neither side of this coin is good. MIddle ground is what I need. damnit my archnemesis middle ground. it like surrounded with magnetic charge and I have a similar charge in my eccentricity. blah blah blah. make no sense. music I want to play mucic. I want to get a delay pedal and a chorus pedal and play artsy punk rock. I want to have fun but I want to be engaged. But my brain is out of gas. it cannot be engaged. there is a power outage in my cerebellum. cerebral cortex .... mmmmmmm....yum...the sound of squishy wrinkled grey matter....I need to get this done right now(duh! so stop writing in live journal)...(stop surfing the web for effects pedals and band info and friends' homepages...JuST Do yOuR Work!) I shall try...goodbye Current Mood: drained
|Saturday, March 8th, 2003|
|must write essay, but I don't want to....
I did everything in my power to prevent it short of becoming an unhealthy person. I grew a beard thinking, it would discourage them. I dressed in the most ridiculous attire. Obnoxious sweaters over collared shirts and a tie worn out through the collar hanging outside of the sweater. None of it matched. I did my best to put myself first. I just generally tried not to care at all.
(2nd time ever and a painful but pleasing experience I might add).
I stumbled on to an old almost girlfriend.
that makes me feel better than saying girl who shared a mutual sense of desire with me whom I hadn't the "minerals" [love that word] to pursue.)
She had the same mesmerized look on her face today as I remember observing the last time I saw her seeing me. She is amazing and beautiful. Amazingly beautiful and beautifully amazing. I wonder if beautiful is meaningless due to how many people use it? I almost feel like everyone is beautiful(thank you miss aquilera)(no really I have good taste in music I promise). So I suppose to distinguish her, her being named Jonnelle, I would say that she induces in me the visions of running through summer prairie fields and rolling down winter sledding hills....To be Continued