I am in, I am in, I am out

Pulsing throughout my body, there is a strange, strange sensation. I ignore it of course, and go on with my daily happe-n-ings. The Wise Wound indeed. There's not very much time left, there never is. I have never been this disorganized in my life. Throwing this everywhere, forgetting to dust...nothing seems to need to have a place, perhaps because I feel like I am soon to be misplaced myself. Will money make up for it? Will it be worth it? I can only hope.

During the course of a dreary, boring English lecture, like they all almost are (I blame the curriculum, and the environment), I overheard people's chats, and realized yet again that I am quite sane. Large amounts of liquor make people do quite peculiar, if not idiotic, things. I have heard of a girl who defaced her entire mid-section by getting a large tattoo across it. Always a smart idea, to get a non-representational tattoo during prom weekend. I need to put that on my "to do" list. I also heard of people having intercourse in the oddest places. I don't see the fascination with genitalia rubbing, like I previously mentioned. It appears to be vile and disgusting and primitive, but I suppose when one gets the nature's "call" they must act upon it, no matter how grotesque the act itself may seem. So I will wait...

Isadora, Isadora. I want a portrait like that.

P.G.Wodehouse and Tea

I went to the library, made a poor Korean intern go down to what they call "stacks", basically a dust covered graveyard for books that none of the local hicks are interested in reading (of course, anything that isn't about towing, manure and homemade abortions is incredibly irrelevant to them) and told her to bring me all the Wodehouse books that they have. In a couple of long minutes, I was standing in front of what looked like heaven. They have a really nice collection of what I believe are old originals! My Man Jeeves, A Damsel in Distress, The Inimitable Jeeves.....etc etc...I took a different pick this time...always rotating my choices, as well as a Jean Luc Godard film with Jane Fonda and Yves Montand (I picked it mostly because of the latter!) Tout Va Bien.

Today in the car, riding in the backseat going home while my father was voicing out all the injustices faced by the engeneers of the auto industry, I dreamt a very shallow dream. I thought, for a change, why not dream inferior dreams...so I dreamt of having in my posession a big Dr Pepper Slushee machine. What an orally driven dream! I could see myself, just like in those 1950s television ads, walking up to the machine, staring at myself as though I am a viewer, and pouring myself a big...bigg...biiiiiiiigggg cup of the good stuff from the inside. Then just as I was about to have a drink, I could think no more. I can't remember the time (last month) when I thought Dr Pepper is absolutely repugnant...those times have passed and well...look at me now, mom!

Due to my pertinacious cold, I have not been able to smell anything. I have been overapplying perfume (personally, I don't believe there is such thing as overapplying, if it's the right type of perfume...), getting toothpaste on me and not noticing, entering a classroom after a hot, sweaty group of grade 9ers had just left (a lethal stink on a regular day)...and well, generally, it's not good.

That is all for today, and probably for tomorrow. We shall see.

Truly

Wilhelm Reich

Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Feeling like one big long day

The weather outside is incredibly dull and uneventful. I spent my weekend sneezing, coughing and shaking from fever...amongst other extremely attractive things. It feels as though time flies by in an insanely unrealistic fashion, but I suppose that comes with age. When I was younger, an hour would feel like an eternity. But youth itself wasn't much of a reward.

My cat has been following me around everywhere, currently lounging infront of my computer, occasionally obstructing my view. At times I feel like he is the only person who can understand me, in a profound way that no one else dares to. Maybe it is the reluctance on his part to engage in conversations, that passive stare, that gives me the thumbs up to extract all of these feelings. He understands nothing, and that's fine.

August 28th seems ridiculously far away, but as we all know, if all goes well, it will surely come.

I should organize my room...but I feel too broken to do anything. Viruses are not fun at all. Jesus.

That's all for today. I know, nothing much to say.

Well, I knew that you would like me...

..if only you could see me..

I'd like to be able to say that it was unreal...but it wasn't..it was very real and I am actually glad to be able to say so. I expected it and I predicted it and I was just hoping it would happen some day, it just happened to be his birthday, and I just happened to look brilliant.

I find it difficult to write about what happened. I am sure that if he ever happened to read this he would have no idea of the magnitude of his actions, and how touched I was.

However, once I am back in this hole, in a different time zone, with a different set of expectations and no chance of crossing paths with him unless I get up and follow and know...

It is really stupid. Or not it, but I am. I feel silly. I feel like I've opened that department inside of me that is waiting to receive some kind of...what's that thing called...love?...but as we all know I've really badly deceived myself to open it for such a brief encounter...and it's not a surprise that it hurt now, and it is not a surprise that I keep my eye open for him around the corner, and it is no surprise I am like a soap opera character without a plot....

I will probably end up spending more than enough money on therapy again. I don't know how suitable psychoanalysis is for me...it is just like talking to myself, only I have to pay. And I don't know how honest I've been about my problems, which makes the whole cause even less effective.

I am Virginia Oldoini...Comtesse de Castiglione...what a horrible way to die; toothless, obese and bald. What a shock...what a shock

Excitement could kill my dull flesh

I should not be exposed to more than small amounts of excitement each time.

Every person in this world has some sort of an advantage, a trick they can use to get privileges that other people normally don't. Some people are good at getting free "stuff", others can avoid getting punished for criminally inclined acts- I fall into neither of these categories. However, I do fall into the "get the best out of a concert for the least amount of money" category. Whether it is getting in for free, moving to front row despite having paid for the nosebleeds, meeting the band, getting an autograph...I can do it all. But I can safely say that I have outdone myself now. Or at least, the preparations for my success at the upcoming Morrissey concert have extended beyond belief. I don't think I have ever prepared this much for a concert. It shall be grand.

That's all for now.
Let's see what I write in about 3 days time.


Life, so unpredictable.

My new collage...

Earl Grey

I am extremely nervous, to a point that I really have very little to say. Unfortunately, my writer's block has yet to leave me. It lingers, it lingers. I am not good with these drastic changes, all that I knew will be gone, and I tend to write about what I know...and I know nothing right now.

Perhaps I'll make myself into something...maybe one tenth of Luisa Casati. But in these bland clothes, with a clean face and conscience, I won't get too far.

Sometimes it is good to rejoice, unfortunately, others always find it as bragging. The older I get (I'll be 18 in a couple of months...) the more I start believing in karma. One cannot get anrgy because another person is doing better (especially when that person is me). Just remember, you were the queen of subculture, the social butterfly invited to all gatherings for four years in a row. And now, your glory is over, I move on, you stay in this filth, you chose it. Everybody gets what they want. I, unlike you, don't need instant gratification...and from what I have been told...good things happen to those who wait.

Or not.