November 7th, 2007
so yeah this is an apology to writing: I am doing photos now. Art is so inherently pretentious.
October 9th, 2006
|01:13 pm - lets get some cash together|
This US Marine is auctioning of legally binding rights to re-name him. The top offer now is 26,000 from an online coffee shop, Finest Freshest Fastest, would be his name. Someone should email George Clooney or some other anti-war rich-o and get him named
All War is Terror Down With Imperialism
August 20th, 2006
|06:20 pm - OW!|
I was cutting back some long grass with the lawnmower, in an area that hasnt seen it in over a year, and guess what? WASPS NEST! I didnt realize what the fuck was going on until they were swarming me... luckily two on my left leg were foiled by my sock. My right sock proved useless in this battle, and I got stung at least four times on my lower right leg. It smarts like hell! The last time I got stung wasnt nearly this bad. I can hardly move my leg. Shittiest part is the lawnmower is currenting sitting right over their nest, which I hope is miserably damaged, and I cannot retrieve it. I guess Ill have to work on something else.
I was running around the yard like a baby, because a few dedicated troopers held onto my clothes trying to nail me again. It took a few minutes to be sure they were all off of me. Boy they sure made their point. Godamn.
|04:37 pm - fuck|
to anyone who read my last entry, and anyone else.
i deeply regret many of the things i said in there, if not most, and i am currently dealing wtih a lot of issues surrounding the impact that those statements etc. i can certainly understand if the people who i talked about in there are confused or pissed or think im a sleazy asshole.
truth is, that entry was meant to private, and through a really horrendous stupid mistake, wasnt.
- many of the things i referred to were exagerrated for effect, taken out of their realistic contexts, filtered through a strong mood of frustration and cynicism, and altered to fit an attempted kind of writing style, and definitely not the only way, or the main way, that i normally think about things.
-many of the things that i said point to legitmate issues and problems with the way i saw not only those events described, but many things in my life. this is what i mean when i say im dealing with the impact of the statements. not just that, im dealing with the deepest possible underpinings of those statements within myself.
this stupid thing has become the catalyst for one of the most important and difficult times in my life. i look forward to growing and passing through it, but i definitely still regret that it has to be like this.
January 24th, 2006
the preponderescent nothing!
oh god oh god the nothing!
ringing in my ears
shrill sounds of car shakes and driving in the distance
highway cars and cattle moans
how sweetly have i missed your noise
oh nothing, oh nothing!
i must have forsaken you
and oh how i love you so
October 17th, 2005
|12:16 am - the possessed|
"You know, Kirilov, you shouldn't go on staying up every night."
Kirilov suddenly stirred, woke up, as it were, and began to talk much more coherently than he usually did. Obviously he had thought it all out before and perhaps he had written it down too. " There are seconds - they come five or six at a time - when you suddenly feel the presence of eternal harmony in all it's perfection. It's not of this earth; I don't mean by that that it's something heavenly but only that man, as he is constituted on earth, cannot endure it. He must be either physically transformed or die. It is a clear, unmistakable sensation. It is as though you were suddenly in contact with the whole of nature, and you say, 'Yes, this is the truth.' When God was creating the world, He Said, aftr each day of creation, 'Yes, this is the truth; it's good.' It's not elation really, it's simply joy. You forgive nothing because theres nothing to forgive. It's not that you love- there's something superior to love in it. The most terrifying part of it is that it is so terribly obvious and it's such a joy. If it lasted for more than five seconds, the soul wouldn't be able to stand it; it would have to disappear. In those five seconds I experience a whole lifetime and I'd give my life for them - it'd be well worth it. To endure ten seconds of it, we would have to undergo a physical transformation. I think man must stop reproducing himself. What's the point of having children? Why strive for progress when the goal has already been achieved? It says in the gospel that in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage but are as the angels of God in heaven. That's a hint. Is your wife having a baby?"
"How often do you have this sensation, Kirilov?"
"Sometimes once in three days, sometimes once a week."
"Are you an epileptic?"
"Well, you're sure to become one. Watch out, Kirilov, I've heard that's how epilepsy begins. An epileptic described to me exactly what it feels like just before a fit. It's just like what you said: five seconds, and he felt it was impossible to endure it any longer. Remember Mohammed's pitcher from which not a drop was spilled while he flew around paradise on his steed. That pitcher - that's your five seconds. It's too much like that harmony of yours. And, you know, Mohammed was an epileptic. So watch out, Kirilov, it's epilepsy!"
This is the kind of elegant nihilism that the main part of scholars, university professors and idealogues are missing entirely. I don't think Kirilov is speaking for Dostoyevsky exactly, there are sublteties to contend with. Generally though, here is an exposition of nihilism as a positive metaphysical approach. Very little to do with rejection, negativity, or ammorality. Stavrogin is not a nihilist. He is a tortured soul. Verhovensky is not a nihilist. He is an insatiable fool. In Kirilov we have the closest possibility.
March 30th, 2005
|02:00 pm - bathroom camera suicide|
harsh light on the tiles of the floor
and water pissing from the faucet
the rusty sink and drain -
and three feet below
naked blob of me
dead and cold
still somehow breathing, in the twisted stench of jealeousy
camera clutched in hands
February 1st, 2005
Im listening to songs like "long may you run" and "comes a time"
and kind of tearing up frustrated now and again. Im thinking about
the summer, like summer in the broad sense of light clothes and birds
and green leaves and the breeze. Im wishing for the summer, for a
circle of people singing through the smoke of a camp fire, for sleep
outside and all night embers, starlight and rustling. Im feeling sad
in the sort of way that makes me want to wear mocasins, to step soft,
head down, to tread lightly. I remember gently all the things we've
done and all the things we havnt, but did somehow in our open sparkle
dream minds, things we did in the background of we thought was going
on ---> multitudes of parrell universes where we were everything and
stood as tall as shadows in the sunset of our wistful romance
wanderings. Im remembering all our walks, though you could say there
have been but a few, and all our saunters yet to come. I am in a
depressed and lonesome way not knowing what the hell to do with
myself, and Im thinking of you. Im hoping you come home soon. I
think I'm turning into a chainsaw.
sputtering , revving up, and choking
flinging rusted blades to and fro
tearing up the future
January 10th, 2005
encounter, standing around at the video store
kind of joking
with this doe eyed young woman
who i was once
big wise bird of compassion
and never ending love for
now has blonde streaks in her hair
and a piece of goosebump skin horizon
showing beneath her navel
(which i notice)
and still has all that sickening innocence
that drew me in the first place
but now im not her
big wise compassion bird
and shes no longer
wraped beneath my wings
January 8th, 2005
things i want
to make money until april or may
to learn how to play guitar
to write poetry
to write a novel
to practice sexual techniques
to go to mexico with janita
to take the sustainable course
to sail around lago de nicaragua
to maintain/improve my physical condition
to practice photography/to learn darkroom techniques
to be near to janita/be able to see janita very often
to stimulate my mind with interesting ideas
to be independent
to learn survival techniques
to get a gun
to work in carpentry
to save money
to do something "professional" or "artistic" with photography, and with writing
to learn how to provide for myself and build my own home
to build my own home
to rekindle a spirit of earnest compassion and reverence
to have children with janita
to raise them well
to learn spanish
to learn french
to learn about my heritage
to learn other languages and travel more
things i dont want
to be financially dependent
to be too emotionally dependent
to have debts, monetary or otherwise
to hold grudges
to not travel or go to mexico in the next year
to come home from mexico and need my parents or someone else to bail me out
to stop writing
to be tired
to be unhealthy
to be away from janita
to be away from janita for a whole other school year
to ruin/lessen my chances of getting a good carpentry job or course by going to central america or anything else
to become totally recluse