| letter from an occupant |
[Jan. 21st, 2006|02:38 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  anxious | ] |
| [ | music |
| | secret machines | ] |
The amount of unnecessary anxiety I cause myself is ridiculous. I'm creating this mental space for myself and I'm claustrophobic in it. At the same time I isolate myself in it, I'm tearing down the walls of it to find any aesthetic, fictional release I possibly can. And ironically, thats whats keeping me sane. All I want to do is read and get lost in it, eat, listen to songs that tell stories, get lost in them, sleep, dream, get lost there. And suddenly I'm realizing I just want to be... well, lost.
Which is ironic because when I try to figure out why this is, it seems that the very reason is that I am lost, that is, in a deeper sense... So I'm losing myself in order to forget that. But on the other hand I think I have as much direction and stability as everyone else... which can only lead me to conclude that everyone is lost to some degree. Which doesn't really help the way I'm feeling right now. It's like having every option and having none at the same time, like I could veritably leap off of the couch, jump in my car, and drive as far away from vh1 and the Vampire Lestat and my housemates and my cup of tea as I want to. But do I want to? What is there anywhere else that there isn't here? Nothing. I'm just a confused sonofabitch who needs to be suffocated with schoolwork, loud music, or fairytales... or better yet, friends... so I don't have to think of anything else. But my friends aren't here right now. And my eyes are tired from reading. And I'm back in the space that I hate, that I've created. I'm not depressed, I'm just not happy.
I should really go to bed.
And yes, apparently I only come here to bitch. what. of. it. |
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| ahahahahahaa i didn't want to but the outcome was too funny not to share |
[Dec. 15th, 2005|03:27 am] |
 Dear Santa...
Dear Santa,
This year I've been busy!
In January I fed a vampyre (-6 points). Last Wednesday I gave change to a homeless guy (19 points). In October I set ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) missnix85's puppy on fire (-66 points). Last week I had a shoot-out with rival gang lords on the 5 near LA (-76 points). In April I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as someone else and I didn't yield (-8 points).
Overall, I've been naughty (-137 points). For Christmas I deserve a moldy sandwich!
Sincerely,
lauraguitarra |
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| a rush of blood to the head |
[Dec. 14th, 2005|06:46 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  mellow | ] |
sometimes i say things/ do things that are dumb, and i didn't really think, and then i'm all concerned that people took it more seriously than it should have been taken, or just found it offensive, and then i feel really bad about it. you'd think this entry was specific, it's really not. i just want everyone to know that i really dont have a mean or violent streak... it's an occasional talk-before-i-think streak. i love you all.
just a general thought i had to get out. i feel better now. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 6th, 2005|12:03 pm] |
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ok, I'm really sorry about that, I haven't had that bad of a breakdown in a while. It will most likely happen again thursday, so bear with me. I'm going to try not to get that crazy again tho |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 6th, 2005|04:44 am] |
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I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out. I'm sitting at my desk, crying. I don't know what to do. I haven't slept in 2 days. Tonight has been the most traumatizing art lab experience ever. I cant find anything. Nothing prints. nothing works. i could barely walk back o my car at 3am cause everything is so heavy, i almost laid down in the snow and died in fron tof green hall, i dont know how i got home. ANd then thefucking cutter was broken so i had to come home and measure and cut everything by hand, and now i cant find my spray mount anywhere I FUCKING HAD IT I SAW IT TODAY BEFORE I LEFT oh my god. I'm freaking out. I haven't cried this much in a long time...I wish someone was awake, im going crazy, i cant even go to bed, i just want food, and sleep, and my mom. help me. I don't know what to do im freaking out. Theres no way you understand what I feel like right now. no way. I just want to fucking quit quit quit. where the fuck is it. i dont think i can ever walk into holman hall again without wanting to jump off a banister.. i cant handle it... I WANT MY MOTHER FUCKING GLUE HOW MUCH IS THAT TO FUCKING ASK YOU PIECE OF SHIT WHO THE FUCK AM I TALKINGTO i amgoing crazy. i can't even type. i dont kow what to do, i am panicking and freaking out. my whole body hurts, i cant even go to bed now cause if i go to sleep i know ill never wake up. id have to get up in a cople hours anyway... oh my god i have no time to do anything. what is wrong with me and how do i end up like this. i just dont FUCKING GET IT Where else can i goddamn look. i am going insane, my arm hurts, im so weak i couldnt use the fucking can opener. i cant deal with this, it has to end. im ready to fucking run away this is complete moronic bullshit, i need to stop crying or im going to hyperventilate |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 5th, 2005|06:23 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | surprisingly calm | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Matt Pond | ] |
If you read the plan (see yesterday morning's post) I can answer the "did you accomplish it all?" with a good, swift, kick in the "no."
Sooo... It's 6:30am... as usual... monday morning... still haven't gone to bed... what else is new...
After a half hour of trying to scrape the car windows with my fingernails in the student center parking lot, and then driving home almost blindly anyway (that's two strikes... I now have a missing brake light AND faulty defrosters) ...I just arrived surprisingly safely back from holman hall.
I've actually done a lot of scraping with my fingernails today. like the gazillion hours I spent trying to clean the emulsion off of my silkscreen. And soaking myself with the silkscreen-room hose en process so badly that I had to drive home for a change of clothing. And then come back and scrape more. And after a couple hours of being overly hopeful, and really aggravated at the same time, I realized it was not my fate to attempt this. There were way too many obstacles. So, I said goodbye to that part of my life, the part in which I thought I could silkscreen... and got an extremely late start on my design manual because of that crap waste of time. (I'm sorry Brian, you tried to help, and I do appreciate it)..
..and then I got one of those pleasant car accident phone calls that you get on an icy sunday night when you have projects to cram for. No, nobody was hurt, but evidently Joyce and her friend were in a heffer of an accident in which the car in front of them spun out, causing them to spin out trying to avoid that car, and them spinning into a pole, and then a third car spinning into them. I would have liked to see a satellite view of that. Just kidding, it's really not funny at all, I'm just glad they are ok.
But Lindsay and I, of course, couldn't get to this mystery hospital (all we had was a vague street name.. I quote.."maybe 'princeton' or 'new brunswick'?") without getting lost in trenton first. You can pretty much get a full idea of our adventure by me telling you that Lindsay and I have the same driving habits, and the same cunning sense of direction. I was the co-pilot, which immediatly added to the problem. Although... I now know what it's like for people to drive with me when I freak out, and I sincerely apologize for all the times I didn't understand why everyone in the car was so angry. Not that I was angry, she just kept turning places because they "felt right" and questioning the directions that actually made sense. Honestly..for me, it was kind of like an out of body experience. It was healthy.
Luckily we got Mike and Dan on the phone, and they quickly google-genius-mapped us to the correct hospital, where we got there just minutes before Joyce's father arrived. (mind you, her father lives almost 2 hours away.) And then we did the 'we're all ok' hugs, and left... and got mildly lost again.
And somehow we made it back. And I went back to holman. They showed Phantom of the Opera on the large screen, which made me really happy, but much less artistically efficient.
And then there were two people alone in the building...me and Mike Pierce.. a dark lab, a romantic movie, and snickerdoodle cookies, which he shared with me.
You're so jealous.
And now... the minor detail of having an unstarted paper and 2 polished acting performances due at noon. Let the fun begin... er.. continue.
P.S. those two cookies were full meals for yesterday and today. I'm starving. |
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| I'm going to be the first person to say it... |
[Dec. 4th, 2005|06:56 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | cheerful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | radiohead | ] |
SSSSSSSSNNNNNNNNOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!
I am so happy, I stayed up all night staring out my window.
The sun's coming up now, and there's this georgeous soft blue glow everywhere.
No, really... it's 7am. Fuck. There is definately something wrong with me. But yannow what? I don't really care anymore. I'm over it. I'm nocturnal, thats just the way it is. For now at least. But today it doesn't matter, because I will really get up in 4 hours... I seriously will, cause there's freakin snow on the ground, and mother nature has beconed me to play in it. At least a tiny bit. And then I will do my ridiculous tsunami of bullshit work.
Tomorrow, er... today, kate is going to pimp my space... I am very excited. Other than that, the goals are: finish ID manual, make my silkscreen (hopefully), write the acting paper. blagh. Can she do it..? Maybe.
For now, however, I am going to stare out the window a little more, and perhaps let my silly head touch a pillow. |
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| I get it |
[Dec. 1st, 2005|03:50 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | panic, thirst | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bouncing souls | ] |
That disturbing dream... was OBVIOUSLY a metaphor for what I will feel like when I bring my art project to class tomorrow.
On another note, I would like to extend great thanks to Kate for trying to assist me and taking beautiful photos... and Brian for the well-needed sanity break.
Yet I am still a failure. Piss.
Someday, maybe in a couple weeks, I will have a more pleasant journal entry. For now, bear with. |
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| angry in the am |
[Nov. 30th, 2005|09:13 am] |
Of course, Nyman is Running a half hour late.
That's a half hour I could have slept.
sonofabitch. |
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| Freaked out |
[Nov. 29th, 2005|09:16 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  uncomfortable | ] |
| [ | music |
| | queen | ] |
I had this really awful dream last night that I was watching myself die. My heart stopped beating, and there were people trying to save me, but in order to do this, they had sliced the right side of my neck open, and opened up my chest. And they were using a kitchen ladel to scoop the blood from my neck and dump it onto my heart so my heart wouldn't dry out. And the whole time, I was standing there, trying to help. But I couldn't, cause it was me. And I could sort of feel what was going on, but it didn't really hurt.
I think I lived, cause the next thing I remember was telling people what had happened and showing them the stitches in my neck. And I remember saying "I never had stitches before, I hope they don't fall out." and I kept touching my neck.
And then I woke up, and I've been touching my neck all morning. I'm kind of freaked out. |
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| Lately... |
[Nov. 27th, 2005|01:59 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | worried | ] |
| [ | music |
| | spinto | ] |
Lately, All I want to do is eat and sleep.
This scares me. A lot.
It's like primal me. I can't even move a limb until 3pm. I confess, to those of you who I have told to call me and wake me up... I tell you I am awake. It's a damn lie. I try, I do... I try really fucking hard. Today I got up and made a pot of coffee practically in my sleep (this was 1:00), I picked at a piece of cheesecake, brought the coffee up to my room, laid on my bed, and still laying down, poured it into my mouth between intervals of freakish dreaming. That's right... now I drink coffee in the morning only to FACILITATE dream energy. It's like a superdream. I'm turning into a pod, like the matrix.
I can't control it... my body just crawls back into the bed and I have no mental capacity to stop myself. I'm afraid to go back to school, because this didn't even start over break... it actually started before the break. I CANNOT continue to sleep through my 2:00 classes. It's not right, nor is it fair. To anyone who ever sees the light of day. I am not being fair to them. Or my once ritual class attendant self. I don't know what to do. Suggestions well accepted.
I must now go. To bed. But I have to wake up for the christening of the baby formally known as Alexis Michelle. Should be rough. (getting up, that is.) Then party and back to school for all the work I slept through. God help me. |
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| What he learned when he joined the Samanas. |
[Nov. 19th, 2005|03:39 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | peaceful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | something instrumental | ] |
"A heron flew over the bamboo wood and Siddhartha took the heron into his soul, flew over forest and mountains, became a heron, ate fishes, suffered heron hunger, used heron language, died a heron's death.
A dead jackal lay on the sandy shore and Siddhartha's soul slipped into it's corpse; he became a dead jackal, lay on the shore, swelled, stank, decayed, was dismembered by hyenas, was picked at by vultures, became a skeleton, became dust, mingled with the atmosphere.
And Siddhartha's soul returned, died, decayed, turned into dust, experienced the troubled course of the life cycle. He waited with new thirst like a hunter at chasm where the life cycle ends, where there is an end to causes, where painless eternity begins. He killed his senses, killed his memory, he slipped out of his Self in a thousand different forms.
He was animal, carcass, stone, wood, water...
...and each time he reawakened. The sun or moon shone, he was again Self, swung into the life cycle, felt thirst, conquered thirst, felt new thirst." |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 15th, 2005|10:42 pm] |
...
I am beyond what I was going to write. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 15th, 2005|01:51 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | lazy but hopeful. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | porn (if you don't get it, you're in the dark) | ] |
sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet
fire in the street
let's sully every stage~* |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 13th, 2005|04:18 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | it should be snowing | ] |
i want someone to explain the why the world is the way it is. i am so lost. and i hate you livejournal. there, i said it. you are a dumb excuse for having nobody to talk to late at night, or ever, for some people.
don't listen to me, i don't know anything, i am a nocturnal creature, i don't even know if i exist. nothing seems real sometimes. and tomorrow morning the sun will fake me into thinking everything makes sense, and tomorrow night nothing will. what is all this, what is everything...
i just want to read siddhartha and drink orange tea.
i want to be religious. i want to be ignorant. i want to think everything is a sweet, flaky pile of bliss. i want to be numb, i want to turn the world off whenever i please.
but i want to sit by a waterfall and learn from nature. i want to go somewhere far, far away... have a deep conversation with someone who speaks another language, and understand every word. i want to talk to an animal. i want to be an animal, because i was born one. i want to understand how it all works, why i am here, why you are there, what is connecting and disconnecting every being at the same time. i want to know why people forget and remember, what is at the end of the universe, how it can really end, how nothing can't be nothing without being something. i want to know if i am really even here, if my whole life is someone else's dream... if your whole life is a dream i'm stuck in. i want to see colors no human can stretch to imagine. i want to know what the usless 90% of my brain could really do. i want to understand. i want to know why some people lie to themselves, to others, why we hide, why we protect. why sometimes we are completely selfless, and other times we are absorbed in 'me.' i want to know what 'me' is.
i want to know why we waste half of our lives sleeping...why i hate the idea of sleeping so much at night, and why it seems like the only thing i could ever want or need in the morning.
i want to know why i have to mold myself in order to live in a society based on conventions. i want to know who invented freedom. and why it is the fakest, most untrue thing that anyone could ever think they have, because let's face it... if you have to think about having it, then there's no way you really do. its something you only have when you are so alusiyowaya that the concept couldn't possibly occur to you...
...i want to make new words when there is no existing one to suit the meaning. there. its all fake. everything is fake so we can feel like we grasp something. time is fake. day and night are fake. why are people so afraid of intangible things when intangible things are often the best thing life can possibly offer... i dont want it anymore, i don't want tangible, i don't want fake, i don't want common, conventional, sensical, or 'real'. i don't want 'free,' i want the absence of it. i want new, i want unexplainable, i want to grasp by letting go, i want everything from nothing, and nothing from everything.
i want a kindred spirit right now. but i just don't think there is one.
and for the conventional hell of it.. here's a capital letter.
J |
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| I will practice as soon as I write this. I promise. |
[Nov. 11th, 2005|12:29 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | depressed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | itunes on random/ Ben Kweller | ] |
I don't know what else to do. I became suddenly depressed, I think I will blame my itunes shuffle for it... its playing all these songs I haven't heard in so long... It's like... nobody is online to talk to, and they all have these sad away messages up. And I am supposed to be doing work, but... I feel like it will ..uh... for lack of better words, stifle my depression? Does that make any sense? It's like depressive creativity. So I came here to write stuff... but I have nothing to write, because I really don't know why I'm sad.
It's just songs and smells, songs and smells. Nostalgia of the unknown, just old moods coming back through music, seasons changing... I guess I'm just bored with it all (bored as in maybe I had too much fun in the past week and got spoiled?).. and now there's not a whole lot to look forward to besides the holidays, but... I don't know, something feels weird about that too. Like, repetitive, in a blah way.
And I started thinking about how how people just get old and die, and how some people just go through life with nothing to look forward to and nothing to remember and no one to love. And I have all of these things, and can still feel bummed out for no reason. And that just makes me feel selfish. Which in turn makes me feel worse.
I wish I was in the mood to write a song or something, but alas... I have no clear train of thought right now, just a lot of caffiene floating around my system with nowhere to go besides my fingers, all finicky and habitually placed in their usual positions... far, far away from home row.
Sigh. |
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| Things just fly in and out of my head like this. |
[Nov. 7th, 2005|01:19 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  lazy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Godspell. Thats right, 70's Jesus tunes. And I like it. | ] |
You know how you have a cup of tea and you get to the bottom, and either you put in way too much honey so the sweetness kills you or your face scrunches up cause it is sooo strong with that damn teabag still sitting there and you didn't put in enough honey to counteract it. Thats how life is, it's a fight between honey and spices at the bottom of a giant teacup.
I'm only saying this because its happening to me right now. Not in my life, in my teacup. Except I came straight out of left field and fought both sides with a stolen hershey kiss. Don't tell anyone. p.s. I don't really know what I'm talking about, I just like to give a setting to my journal entries. So there you go.
What a week. Two rounds of Hanson glory, followed by one good round of cabin fever. I slept on the ground in philly in 30 degree weather, and had my blankets stolen by a crazy hobo. And then I saw my favorite band at my favorite venue. It rocked. Then a couple days later I did it again in New York. Minus the sleeping part. And I took a ferry and subway a train all by myself and didn't get lost or confused at all. And I saw my favorite band again, and dare I say it was even better than the first (and by first I mean 14th?) time. Front and center. BEAUTIFUL.
I got really lazy and stopped caring about schoolwork a lot. I asked for a zero on my math quiz... thats right, I asked for it. Hah and I always get what I want. So I got it. And it felt good. It scares me, but I actually felt good about it. Wow.
And then I dropped everything and went to the mountains with my friends. It was awesome. The weather was georgeous, the leaves were firecolors everywhere. We hiked, forded a few rivers, sat in front of fires, danced, ate good food, listened to a lot of music, and relaxed a whoooole lot. It was wonderful. Minus a few log-related incidents, drunk Amy, and getting kicked in the v a couple of times. And the ghost of John Wayne Gacy. Yea, I ripped two holes in the crotch of my favorite jeans trying to shimmy a log with rusty nails across a river... kate cried trying to shimmy another log across a different river... and another time I soaked my pants and lost some foot circulation. And there were a few ticks. But in the end, it was friggin awesome and we ate lots of pasta and pancakes and smores. It was a good good weekend. I need not say more.
Except that I'm screwed this week. But hey, a clean screw is better than a rusty nail. |
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| "sometimes the hardest things in life... are the things we have to do" |
[Oct. 26th, 2005|10:27 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | restless | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Juliana Theory | ] |
So I have been enlightened that a pretty good friend of mine from high school was dating Paul.
Last time I ran into her she said "don't be a stranger, call me sometime."
So now is the time I am calling, and it's under the worst possible circumstances. And I'm terrified to call her... I'm sick over the whole thing and I can't believe that she has to deal with it.
What do you say to someone whose boyfriend has hung and killed himself? Besides the obvious "I'm so sorry"... what can possibly be said? I really can NOT imagine anything worse... my mom said Elyse looked miserable at the viewing, I kind of wish I went, if nothing else, for her sake... but on the same token, I'm kind of relieved that I didn't. The whole thing sucks, I don't know how my mom worked up the courage to visit Paul's parents today, I really don't. Ugh.
But alas... I'm going to have to suck it up. |
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| the pozniak language barrier strikes again |
[Oct. 25th, 2005|09:25 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | amused | ] |
| [ | music |
| | something folkey | ] |
RagingHA (11:43:31 PM): what did you sell at work today?
MisterJoeMurder (11:43:56 PM): haha
MisterJoeMurder (11:43:58 PM): my soul
MisterJoeMurder (11:44:20 PM): actually i sould a shiatsu massager, and then hung a bunch of christmas decorations
RagingHA (11:44:28 PM): hey, it happens
MisterJoeMurder (11:44:29 PM): then I did a very thorough vacuuming
RagingHA (11:44:33 PM): haha
RagingHA (11:44:51 PM): tell me you really sold a shiatsu massager
MisterJoeMurder (11:45:01 PM): I really sold a shiatsu massager?
RagingHA (11:45:18 PM): so you didnt? is THAT what you are saying?
RagingHA (11:45:23 PM): don't dissapoint me like that
MisterJoeMurder (11:45:34 PM): I really did sell a shiatsu massager
RagingHA (11:45:39 PM): really
RagingHA (11:45:51 PM): are you sure?
RagingHA (11:45:52 PM): lol
RagingHA (11:46:07 PM): i am having reservations about this
MisterJoeMurder (11:46:18 PM): why would you not believe me?
MisterJoeMurder (11:46:43 PM): it was seventy five dollars, you can strap it to a chair, or lie on top of it, it can massage your entire body
RagingHA (11:46:49 PM): lets settle one detail at a time
RagingHA (11:46:55 PM): a shiatsu is a small dog?
MisterJoeMurder (11:47:11 PM): Oh wow
RagingHA (11:47:18 PM): BEFORE I HYPERVENTILATE
MisterJoeMurder (11:47:23 PM): you mean a "Shit-Zoo"
MisterJoeMurder (11:47:45 PM): I'm saying i sold a "Shee-ott-zoo" massager
RagingHA (11:47:46 PM): how is that spelled?
RagingHA (11:47:56 PM): DAMNIT!
RagingHA (11:48:10 PM): you were <--> this close so making my entire day
MisterJoeMurder (11:48:18 PM): why?
MisterJoeMurder (11:48:25 PM): to massage dogs?
RagingHA (11:48:32 PM): because
RagingHA (11:48:55 PM): a shiatsu massager is the god damn funniest thing i ever heard of in my life
RagingHA (11:49:00 PM): IF
RagingHA (11:49:06 PM): and only if
RagingHA (11:49:14 PM): it was the dog
RagingHA (11:49:34 PM): and not what appears to be some chinese technological masterpiece for your back.
MisterJoeMurder (11:49:43 PM): well i apologize, shiatsu is a massage type
MisterJoeMurder (11:49:48 PM): haha you got it
RagingHA (11:49:52 PM): i was falling on the floor for a minute there
RagingHA (11:50:09 PM): ok, i still am
RagingHA (11:50:23 PM): this is not nearly as funny for you as it is for me
MisterJoeMurder (11:50:42 PM): Probably not, i work with the damn thing and hate it
RagingHA (11:52:15 PM): ahahaha so the whole time you are picturing this chair, and im picturing this rich princetonian violently shaking a small dog in a tiny machine that you coerced them into dropping a hundred dollars on
RagingHA (11:52:43 PM): brilliant |
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