Another night of great sleep, which the latter stages of course contained a bizarre and disturbing dream. First, there was an actor, doing a show, about one of his movies. It was a Francis Ford Coppola movie. He showed a bit of it, him walking in the snow, in some place that reminded me of Siberia or something. Then this actor, who called himself Kevin...
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VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
thirty:
Dude, you know you want a piece.
stacie:
what do you think you are doing singing in my journal???
I wish I was Bruce Lee.
That way I could walk around and get jobs as a kung fu guy and not have to deal with any stupid shit like money.
Randomness
1. There isn't enough beauty where I am now
2. Fuck banks
3. Jobs are stupid, the human race has enslaved itself
4. I sleep too much and when I do sometimes my...
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That way I could walk around and get jobs as a kung fu guy and not have to deal with any stupid shit like money.
Randomness
1. There isn't enough beauty where I am now
2. Fuck banks
3. Jobs are stupid, the human race has enslaved itself
4. I sleep too much and when I do sometimes my...
Read More
VIEW 22 of 22 COMMENTS
thora:
I like Therion. I had a coworker who used to strip to them at the Hungry i when I worked there.
edea:
wow you puked bacause of pot now thats weird! there must have been something in there
eww spinach & vinegar haha
eww spinach & vinegar haha
You were that girl I used to see everyday in the same cold air, on the same sidewalk. You wore the same black hooded sweatshirt over your head evertime I saw you, tucked away like a snail in it's shell. We shared a few quick glances now and again, and we both knew what was happening, but we'd never say anything. Eye contact is such...
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VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
rickroyal:
The fantasy of the missed opportunity remains unspoiled by the imperfection of reality. Familiar territory.
Interestingly enough, I think that's what causes people to be critical of their own work. Inside the head, it remains perfect. Once it's been made solid with words, or paint, or stone, or whatever, it become imperfect because of the medium. As the creator, all you notice are the imperfections, where it failed to live up to the vision in your head.
Interestingly enough, I think that's what causes people to be critical of their own work. Inside the head, it remains perfect. Once it's been made solid with words, or paint, or stone, or whatever, it become imperfect because of the medium. As the creator, all you notice are the imperfections, where it failed to live up to the vision in your head.
ophelia:
I often think back to those people who I had crushes on, and I wanted to tell them but never got the opportunity. The boy who used to sit next to me in Sociology, who I spoke to every day and dreamed of every night, the girl that I lived with for months after I got kicked out of home, too scared to even tell her that I liked girls for fear of freaking her out.
The boy died not so long ago. The girl's disappeared into oblivion. But somehow they're just as special to me as the people who I did tell, even more so because I never gave them the opportunity to hurt me.
The boy died not so long ago. The girl's disappeared into oblivion. But somehow they're just as special to me as the people who I did tell, even more so because I never gave them the opportunity to hurt me.
That last thing I wrote, I have decided..is a piece of crap. Right now I'm lacking inspiration, so nothing too creative today.
Although I did watch the Final Fantasy movie, which, while stunning graphically, didn't have the kind of storyline I expected from Squaresoft.
--
In other news..that really shitty rap that people "Get Crunk," to, is one of the most hilarious things ever. Ahahahaha...
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Although I did watch the Final Fantasy movie, which, while stunning graphically, didn't have the kind of storyline I expected from Squaresoft.
--
In other news..that really shitty rap that people "Get Crunk," to, is one of the most hilarious things ever. Ahahahaha...
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VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
fractal:
Creeping thru a burrowed hole in the dirt, the catterpillar felt like a gladiator about to step into a roman amptiheatre...not really sure why. Then he remember that he didn't take his vitamins today, so he was having another one of those pesky delusions again.
Not my best work by far...
Not my best work by far...
rickroyal:
Afterwards, she told him, "it was like Sophocles at the ampitheatre."
He'd found her trolling around the classics section of the museum. His class had gone to see the "Dildos Through the Ages" art exibit that was all the rage, but he'd broken off from the group. He hadn't seen the point, had instead wanted to see the way the Greek masters had made stone curve as through it were flesh. When he came into the classics room, he saw she was the only other person in there, standing there in that tiny t-shirt with a purple catterpillar riding high on her breasts. A crooked smile met him.
He called her a catterpillar; she smiled and said that she liked to crawl through rubble. She waggled her fingers at him. A secret shared.
A cool hand slid into his jeans once she'd pulled him behind the bust of a twenty-year-old Catullus. His own hand crept under her ankle-length skirt to find cotton and then moist folds as hot as her hand was cold. When he slipped into her -- cotton pulled to the side, skirt cascading around his hips -- he closed his eyes, rested his head against the granite wall. She murmured, "My, my," her head on his shoulder, mouth at his ear, "I feel," legs shaking slightly and squeezing his hips, "like Medea."
He looked past her, seeing Catullus' face reflected in the glass case on the other side of the room; the poet smiling on the happenings of young lovers.
Walking hand in hand back to the "Dildos Through the Ages" exhibit, she sniffled slightly.
"I told you to take some vitamin C," he said.
"You also told me to stay home today," she smiled as they came upon his classmates, "and look how that turned out."
"Indeed."
---
I'm never satisfied with what I write; I don't think it's possible. The process of editing is unlimited; the work can always be made better. So, yeah, I can certainly empathize with you on not being satisfied. My problem is usually that I'm willing to settle for a less than perfect draft. I'm still unsatisfied, but I've had enough of editing, or I've run out of time. Had I my druthers, I'd probably edit something until I was sick of it.
And no piece is entirely worthless. There's usually something worth taking from it.
I was rather disappointed with Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within when I waw it. In fact, I don't think I ever got around to finishing it. Had they merely made a movie version of Final Fantasy III, it would've rocked. But they had to do something else. Waste of money, it seemed.
Hmm, yes, you're probably right about the relationship. But I'd for once like to have a relationship based entirely on lust. Not a long one, just a short, intense, passionate fling that burns itself out quickly. I've never had that, so that might be why it's so appealing.
He'd found her trolling around the classics section of the museum. His class had gone to see the "Dildos Through the Ages" art exibit that was all the rage, but he'd broken off from the group. He hadn't seen the point, had instead wanted to see the way the Greek masters had made stone curve as through it were flesh. When he came into the classics room, he saw she was the only other person in there, standing there in that tiny t-shirt with a purple catterpillar riding high on her breasts. A crooked smile met him.
He called her a catterpillar; she smiled and said that she liked to crawl through rubble. She waggled her fingers at him. A secret shared.
A cool hand slid into his jeans once she'd pulled him behind the bust of a twenty-year-old Catullus. His own hand crept under her ankle-length skirt to find cotton and then moist folds as hot as her hand was cold. When he slipped into her -- cotton pulled to the side, skirt cascading around his hips -- he closed his eyes, rested his head against the granite wall. She murmured, "My, my," her head on his shoulder, mouth at his ear, "I feel," legs shaking slightly and squeezing his hips, "like Medea."
He looked past her, seeing Catullus' face reflected in the glass case on the other side of the room; the poet smiling on the happenings of young lovers.
Walking hand in hand back to the "Dildos Through the Ages" exhibit, she sniffled slightly.
"I told you to take some vitamin C," he said.
"You also told me to stay home today," she smiled as they came upon his classmates, "and look how that turned out."
"Indeed."
---
I'm never satisfied with what I write; I don't think it's possible. The process of editing is unlimited; the work can always be made better. So, yeah, I can certainly empathize with you on not being satisfied. My problem is usually that I'm willing to settle for a less than perfect draft. I'm still unsatisfied, but I've had enough of editing, or I've run out of time. Had I my druthers, I'd probably edit something until I was sick of it.
And no piece is entirely worthless. There's usually something worth taking from it.
I was rather disappointed with Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within when I waw it. In fact, I don't think I ever got around to finishing it. Had they merely made a movie version of Final Fantasy III, it would've rocked. But they had to do something else. Waste of money, it seemed.
Hmm, yes, you're probably right about the relationship. But I'd for once like to have a relationship based entirely on lust. Not a long one, just a short, intense, passionate fling that burns itself out quickly. I've never had that, so that might be why it's so appealing.
One hundred thousand thoughts running through my head and I sprouted wings and flew to your house to get rid of them. It didn't matter that two parts of my back had just exploded, the crimson blood on the ivory white of the feathers which made up the wings was a nice contrast. Almost like how forensics scientists make blood splatters and reconstruct how someone...
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VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
freckle:
cheader cheese is better. and all greasy and buttery.... yum.
kikka:
is there really something wrong?
you're sweet, thank you
ps. your profile picture- ohh hott
[Edited on May 15, 2003]
you're sweet, thank you
ps. your profile picture- ohh hott
[Edited on May 15, 2003]
"Can you play the trumpet??"
That was what she said to me.
"No, but I know someone who can," was the lazy reply.
We sat on the blue velvet couch staring at nothing in particular, cigarettes dangling from our mouths like we were impersonating Keith Richards.
You pulled a black plastic case shaped like a pear from the opposite side of the couch's blue armrest....
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That was what she said to me.
"No, but I know someone who can," was the lazy reply.
We sat on the blue velvet couch staring at nothing in particular, cigarettes dangling from our mouths like we were impersonating Keith Richards.
You pulled a black plastic case shaped like a pear from the opposite side of the couch's blue armrest....
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VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
stacie:
i have switched out tv to back up tv..
which is about 1/4 the size of the old tv. yes, i am fucking cross as all hell.
which is about 1/4 the size of the old tv. yes, i am fucking cross as all hell.
fractal:
I was plagued by auditory hallucinations for years...I don't know why it stopped but I"m glad it did
Yadda yadda, accidentally added a journal entry.
I have skills.
Paint me a picture.
I have skills.
Paint me a picture.
fractal:
thats my line
fractal:
red eyed angry could be interesting
I woke up with a pain in the second knuckle of my left index finger and noticed it is a reddish color. I have no idea what it came from. The past day or two have been a blur of substance abuse and hangovers. I saw some interesting things; and I accomplished something I've always wondered about..vomiting out of a moving vehicle. It was going...
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VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
le:
dude where were you when i was in atlanta last weekend for HORRIBLE MUSIC MIDTOWN?? i went to little five points and stupid hesher boys hit on me. 
i hated atlanta actually and i used to love it there, everywhere i went i got harassed, it was lame!!!
but i posted a message on the boards like, ATTN ATLANTA and no one really responded except one nice girl who i didn't call because i was too cranky from being surrounded by creepy frat boys from GT at music midtown.
anyway hi
um
i hated atlanta actually and i used to love it there, everywhere i went i got harassed, it was lame!!!
but i posted a message on the boards like, ATTN ATLANTA and no one really responded except one nice girl who i didn't call because i was too cranky from being surrounded by creepy frat boys from GT at music midtown.
anyway hi
um
nadine:
i laughed at you because your baby died.......i snuck a retard into a sperm bank.....heh heh......
It's amazing how everything can be simplified down to the bare bones; and often times numerous simplified things yield the same equally unfavorable results.
--
The age old question of purpose is one I'd like to raise. I've been doing a lot of contemplating, if you will, as to why I or any other human beings exist. Is it to appease our gods?? For those...
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--
The age old question of purpose is one I'd like to raise. I've been doing a lot of contemplating, if you will, as to why I or any other human beings exist. Is it to appease our gods?? For those...
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VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
rickroyal:
'Tis the dark side of existentialism.
Your last line reminds me of a story title I read a long time again. "Virginity is Curable, Inquire Within." Just popped into the old noggin.
Your last line reminds me of a story title I read a long time again. "Virginity is Curable, Inquire Within." Just popped into the old noggin.
synnove:
oh yes it was painful 
i remember how i stopped going out in public with my mom because i was tired of people gasping and looking at me in fear because they were just SO black and SO big. the black was down to almost the bottom of my nose. and i was tired of sitting in the shopping cart while mom did grocercies and people just stared at me in disbelief. hehe
i should look for my pics of the blackeyes and post them.
i remember how i stopped going out in public with my mom because i was tired of people gasping and looking at me in fear because they were just SO black and SO big. the black was down to almost the bottom of my nose. and i was tired of sitting in the shopping cart while mom did grocercies and people just stared at me in disbelief. hehe
i should look for my pics of the blackeyes and post them.
If it was like I wanted, I'd take you to Besaid Island, and then we'd travel to the Moonflow. We'd sit on the shore at night and watch the fireflies. Our skin would turn blue thanks to the large white orb floating overhead; and we'd lay back, away from all artificial light, and ponder the structure of the milky way.
"What do you think it's...
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"What do you think it's...
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VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
fractal:
I used to have a dog that did that. She was strange.
Haha You projectile vomited on someone. Thats rad.
[Edited on May 02, 2003]
Haha You projectile vomited on someone. Thats rad.
[Edited on May 02, 2003]
rickroyal:
I was actually thinking about Office Space, which probably means I should probably change the occupation. Seems too obvious looking back. Ah well.