this shall be ever-so-interesting... or SHALL it??? for that is the question, my dears.

i only have in mind that this will be an outlet for useless rants, just like the crude written journals i keep. for some reason, my private electronic journal (((****powered by iBook!!!!***)))) contains my most elegant writing, aside from certain random POETICALISTIC (re: will jones) lines i have scattered about my files. but this is PUBLIC. and i am my own enemy... i suppose. who knows.. where a raindrop goes.. oops, there i go, schizophrenic again. it's 5:56 am and i've gotten seven hours of sleep in the past thirty-six hours? or so. i think. i don't know, but who knows, where i take my toes...

yes, this will all probably be as assorted in thought as the above paragraph. (cerebral connections? what?) so perhaps i'll be the only one to access it. but i'm (genetically) a wiseass (there i go with the coarseness: myself a small red commoner), and can do little to reverse my fate. muahaha, what a huge lie. i see this electronic outlet as an even vainer means of reflection. goodness gracious, what a disgusting statement, especially when sounded with pride.

danny, you hate me already again, don't you? or something. i can't even fathom stephen reading this. i can, however, picture his sombrero bobbing above his bass. "he's as artsy as they come!" --Anonymous Blonde Musician Boy.

and eaming, i can't help reminding myself of the caveperson you were a summer and a half ago.. or a year and a half... i liked the first phrase better. it reminded me of copacabana. by the way, i spotted that soundtrack at plan 9 the other day, on my little field day off of exams (but indeed, hohum, i was rather glum, that midday). i believe it was six dollars or so. but i was willing to bet the only worthwhile song would be the title track. no telling what else barry manilow was up to, or ever has been. anyway, that is my little reference for the year to the beloved nakednun amber (who shall probably rest only in memorandum henceforth).

AND YES I AM LISTENING TO VESPERTINE FOR THE TWOHUNDREDTH TIME. actually, i'm probably only in the forties by now. maybe even mid-thirties (just like her!!!). but it still seems like quite a lot. anyway, listening to this album by BJORK is one of the only worthwhile things doing anymore, say i. although i HAVE regained much of my life within the past week or so. mostly today though, after a great catharsis caused by the wench called GLORIA (i think i'll use that as a title sometime... oh, how i relish an artistic means of retribution!) who has woven her english threads through the cracks, in plaster and skin, that abound in the household these days. GOD I HATE THAT WENCH.

i apologize for anyone who thought me a passionless and docile creature till now. although i suppose, if any of those remain or ever existed, they cannot be too surprised at my language and outbursts. after all, i am human. goddammit. godDAMNit.

speaking of another wench: i've been meaning to get this out. ricky's read it. maybe i've told ryan about it. maybe zack as well, but he'll never read this. he's a conservative hippie, after all. MAKES PERFECT SENSE!!!!

Abigail is a Wench

carefully i aim for balance
and crush her face flat underfoot
trampled like a can of warm soda-
POP!
that trick was taught me
extracurricularly.

there. thats a small portion of a page full of rage-full poesy which i have stored on my stupid pathetic white (symbolic?) ibook.

i saw her today.. a day that seems weeks ago. anyway, yeah, i hope she didn't see me. it didn't have too great an effect on me. i wasn't in a rage as i would appear to be, judging by the lines above. i was just like, "hey, whoa, there's that stupid person. her mohawk's gone. hm." that's how i think in the mornings. i'm dead till six pm each day.

oh shit it's 6:15!!! not that i didn't expect it. it's just that i was going to start watching the matrix again - since i have an extra day to watch it, since i left the tape in the vcr despite turning in the box - at five AM. thus i would have finished it in about one hour from the present time (a concept i shall never grasp. remind: me, of The Elegant Universe.)

jonathan, your posted poetry is nowhere near as paganistic as mine. oh goodness, now i'm stealing motifs. i apologize. at least, i believe, our things shall be read amongst differing circles.. unless you count that one famed character we all know and adore, the one with a not-so-little heart. (i've been "online since: 0 Days.")

here comes the beautiful Aurora. Back to Bjork: this album is one of the very few things worth listening to. honestly, few things are as enriching. i cannot comprehend much more. and of course i acknowledge that i am VERY little versed in the musical world, but i KNOW (by intuiting, thank you, golden one) that there are few persons who could possibly conceive of these expressive, emotional creations, and then have the energy to create them.

and oh, how sick i have been of music for so long. this is a wonderful revelation, that had come at such a perfect time. music has been a haven in these past thirty days. just music, that is all. music alone is a perfect thinking drug. and now i am getting back my writing drive, and ALSO my one for visual art. and i feel so healthy and vibrant
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
see? i told you. do you believe that i have primed two canvases in one night... that will actually be UTILIZED??? i am ever-so-excited. and i have concentrated on this one poem that i have gained a purpose for. and i am so happpyyyy and gleeeeefullll like those quirky little drops of rain.

i am obviously, ultimately talking to myself here.

oh i can't watch the matrix. damn. i am afraid that if i do watch it again i won't like it so much. i never thought it would happen to casablanca, but it did a bit... at least, it lost some emotional effect on me. i don't remember if i ever became bored of it. but because the matrix has a less impressive (in a humanistic sense) plot, i think i could grow more easily sickened of it. but god, how i crave that sort of production!!!!

my eating disorders are subsiding. affirmations are important. everyone should practice some measure of self-hypnosis-- i certainly haven't done it strictly. but talking to oneself is, i think, the only truly convenient means of counteracting this necessary existence amid society. augh. god how i hate society. civilization SUCKS. how many times must i say it before it grows limp on my tongue...

thank you, bjork, for becoming more and more beautiful!

oh god i'm not a fucking lesbian. and i'm going to be so bitter at marlboro. potsmoking hippies and lesbians abundant. god that sounds horrible. god god god.

i don't even think i'm bisexual. geez. i really don't. it was all just egotism. i even somewhat thought so all during that time, except for approximately one month, during which i didn't see her! and i wasn't even happy when she came home. yeah, i think that was when i got over her. and i stayed there for... two? three? more months??? wow that is ridiculous. oh god oh god. i didn't even care!! she was sort of right. but i was being selfishly unselfish.

when can i stop thinking about how much i hate that bitch. she didn't even do anything, except annoy me. i'm just never going to pursue an infatuation again. those are dangerous things. i am learning. i quite share john's habit of growing to hate people i didn't really love in the first place.

oh god god god love??? never going to work out. HAH maybe if i had gone to VCU. HA.HA. and had begun to smoke cigarettes HA-HA-HA and had dyed my hair pink after all.

no, i am just pretending bitterness at persons who are not even associated.

platonic platonic platonic seems all that existsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
or is satisfying (so it seems sometimes).

so well. i got a whole lot out. it's nice not to structure myself nor be shielding. it looks like rain outside (as it is now 6:43 am).

UNISON jesus bjork you're so amazing.

I never thought....

i always subconsciously integrate her words into what i'm writing.. even when i'm not listening to her, it's just playing over and over in my head, every little iota of her music. then of course i am annoyed that i even attempted to use her words, because i am rather undeserving. (yes, "rather", spoken like the true pseudo-intellectual, john.) jesus christ. i'm so happy someone can produce something worthy of true intellect with grand emotions. that's all...