February 2012
15 posts
Fuck all of you who gave up, gave in, lost yourselves.
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“I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.”
– Franz Kafka to Milena Jesenská, 1921
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“The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
The honey’s sweet, and so are...”
– Gammer Gurton’s Garland
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“She bath’d with roses red, and violets blew,
And all the sweetest...”
– Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queen
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slave to limerence
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My bath drain is clogged. There is endless laundry.
The moon is large and bright. I feel insignificant. I feel inconsequential.
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I miss foggy mornings when all I can smell is wet earth and all I can hear are the early birds waiting for their worms.
Growing apart from my skin.
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Looking through photos of young men with soulful eyes makes me wonder what it is I’m searching for or, more appropriately, what it is I’m afraid to find. When I sleep at night, I find myself staring at a still picture projected on the undersides of my eyelids. My nerves convince me that there’s someone lying behind me, curled to my form, knees tucked behind my knees.
Damn this...
January 2012
17 posts
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I started listening to Refused when I was twelve, perhaps eleven. This was four years after their last show, and I discovered them while watching television.
During my years of middle school, I spent most of my time at home watching music videos and going to concerts. Sometimes I would go to the movies with classmates. I would mostly hang out with my computer and my mother. I was...
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Yes, I must learn to climb out from this gloomy, unfulfilling abyss called love.
Refused
Nothing else matters.
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You don’t fall out of love. You climb from it.
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Everything is always precarious.
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Becoming a medical examiner is the perfect career choice for me. While I have no qualms about being elbow-deep in viscera, I could never come to terms with the feeling of causing the death of a patient. I spend most of my television time watching crime documentary serials, such as Cold Case Files and 48 Hours and know more details about serial killers and characteristics of death than most...
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Sometimes life is so terrifying that all you can do is watch everyone around you slowly die.
Our deaths began upon conception.
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Last night I had a dream in which David Bowie and I were kindred spirits. He dropped his keys on the street, and I picked them up to return them to him, unaware of who he was until I looked him in the face. We became fast friends and then went our separate ways. Some time later, when the world started ending, we unknowingly ended up taking shelter in the same diner. We sat under the counter,...
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Let me tell you a secret.
The key to being on good terms with me is to avoid seeing me too often, to stay away for a while if necessary.
You see, I am an absurdly irritable person who tries very hard to be tolerant and lenient and understanding. I think that every person has a reason for his or her behavior, as distasteful as that behavior could possibly be. So, I try to remain ignorant of the...
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Refused, you too? Is this Truth?
Edit: It is Truth.
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Today is also Stephen Hawking’s birthday. He is 70 years old today.
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Today is David Bowie’s birthday. He is 65 years old today.
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I thought of you many times today, of what you are doing, of where you are going, of whose hand you’re holding, whose bed you sleep in. I want to dream of you tonight. I’m so tired of wanting you, but I’d rather torture myself with thinking of you than forget that you exist. I’m very much a masochist when it comes to you.
December 2011
22 posts
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I’ve decided to go home for some time after everyone leaves. I want to be free of everything, be a child again, sleep until I’m ready, have the nights to myself, walk the shore alone in the cold. I want to eat right and healthy, swim when I feel like swimming, read sad stories until I’m sobbing.
With all of this, I can’t keep from thinking that you have everything and I...
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You fell like Icarus too close to the sun. I wonder, am I Daedalus soaring free or a siren whose song failed to save you?
Death to the fearful poet!
These two days are the only ones I can enjoy alone. Too many visitors. Everyone, just stay away, please. I want rest and solitude.
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I think, if they needed someone to go into outer space forever, to drift farther than anyone ever has, to send information for everyone else with the inevitable outcome of never coming back, I’d do it.
Some days, I am sorely uncomfortable in my skin.
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Feeling alone is never actually about being alone. It only happens when the people you find to be very significant in your life don’t find you to be as significant in theirs. There are still people that feel for you and care for you. It’s just that they don’t matter to you. They are the you in your failed relationships.
We’re all hypocrites and liars. And it’s...
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Sometimes you just give in to vulgarity and frustration and feel compelled to say, “I really fucking hate everything.”
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I have passion but no creativity. I have desire but no vision. One without the other ends in unfulfillment, a dull ache in the diaphragm.
Talent is useless and figures in nowhere.
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One day you and I will watch the sunrise together. I will take your hand in mine and confess to you every secret I’ve ever kept. I will likely cry quietly from a strange, crushing sadness and resignation as the sunlight reflected by the ocean dances off your hair and face, as the wind blows the sand around our ankles, as the waves crash their rolling melody. I will kiss you chastely,...
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Today is my twenty-first birthday. To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it much. I’m not interested in drinking alcohol, so this birthday is no more notable than any other. I had planned on just studying my day away because of my three exams later in the week. But my friends are really wonderful. They surprised me with wonderful things. That wasn’t what I liked the...
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