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[29 Jan 2006|09:34pm] |
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mood |
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 annoyed |
] |
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music |
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Rob Zombie - Never Gonna Stop |
] |
After endless nights of debauchery, Mortal Kombat, industrial metal and junk food, the lack of sleep is finally taking its toll on me.
I suppose I've finally reached that point in my life in which i have to decide if the feeling that something's terribly wrong with my life is going to be thrown out the window. Waking up in the morning and staying in bed trying to figure out what exactly I've become is one of the most hideous experiences.
So, I guess there's not much I can do at this point except indulge myself into the mud, until I've finally become a truly amoral individual.
Fuck You Sam.
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[22 Jan 2006|03:24pm] |
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mood |
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 cold |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Gang Of Four - Damaged Goods |
] |
Ichi the Killer owns. Maybe Eli Roth can learn a thing or two on the definition of "graphic scenes of torture".
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[13 Jan 2006|03:44pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 cheerful |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Nick Cave - The Ballad of Robert Moore and Betty Coltrane |
] |
Happy Fuckin' Friday The 13th
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[06 Jan 2006|08:27pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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cheerful |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Buzzcocks - What Do I Get? |
] |
HOSTEL...
I love thee.
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[04 Jan 2006|12:31pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Zombieness |
] |
| [ |
music |
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The New York Dolls - Vietnamese Baby |
] |
I went to the Rose Parade, and all I got, was a crappy shirt, and a cold.
I fucking hate the Rose Parade.
Die Rose Parade.
Die.
On a happier line, HOSTEL, this friday, CAN'T WAIT!!!!
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[23 Dec 2005|01:23pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 contemplative |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Test Icicles - circle,square,triangle |
] |
Ahhh, time for an update...
I have no idea what's been going on lately, it feels as if all of a sudden I had stepped out of some alternate reality void and everything seems so different to me. Mostly in a bad way.
The love for britpop and new wave has now become an obsession.
I've developed unhealthy habits.
I love my life.
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[07 Dec 2005|07:30pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Sleeeeep... |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Bob Dylan - Slow Train Coming |
] |
Sometimes I think I'm going to go insane from sexual frustration.
Hmm...
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[16 Nov 2005|10:23pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 horny |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Amii Stewart - Knock on Wood |
] |
Whoo hooaa...
Amii Stewart...
Poppers...
Afros...
The Warriors...
I'm on a '70s spiral
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[16 Nov 2005|02:28pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Your momma |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Ladytron - Discotraxx |
] |
kaFkadream5: are you medorthophobic?
a splendid time: no. but actually i do. i have a fear of all penises in general
Oh Geez
Poor Laura
Es ist eine Schande
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[11 Oct 2005|05:07pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 Blah Blah |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Moving Units - Emancipation |
] |
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[08 Oct 2005|10:33pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 numb |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Mr. Ambulance Driver - The Flaming Lips |
] |
Things are nothing but a blur through tear stained eyes.
How much deeper can you go, once you hit rock bottom?
Yes, new layout.
No I don't like that pain/scene whatever, it's premade, and I liked it.
Thank you :)
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| Rejection |
[29 Sep 2005|09:34pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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Numb |
] |
| [ |
music |
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The Magnetic Fields-Love in the Shadows |
] |
When i meet a pretty girl and beg her "Be so good as to come with me" and she walks past without a word this is what she meant to say."You are no duke,you never journeyed the seven seas or crossed great hills, so why should a pretty girl like me go with you?""Well dear, you forget that no automobile swings you through the street,I see no gentlemen escorting you in a close half-circle, blessing your head. Yet you smile from time to time..." To this she would respond:"Yes, we're both in the right, and to keep us from being irrevocably aware of it, hadn't we better just go our separate ways home?"
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| The Gate |
[27 Sep 2005|07:11pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 Relieved |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Thievery Corporation - International Flight |
] |
A man once set out on a search for love, he journeyed across land and sea, he spent a fortune to travel to the one place where he thought love could be found. After much hardship, the man arrived at this destination, and found himself standing in front of a gate with half open doors, and next to it, a broad shouldered man, who could be mistaken for a statue, if it wasn’t for his fine features, his broad, slightly hawked nose, his high cheekbones, and his vivid eyes. As the man approached the gate, the doorman motioned towards the door and spoke in a calm but imposing voice “I’m sorry sir, but you cannot go in just yet. You must come back later, only then will you be allowed in” the man stared at the doorman and spoke in a pleading voice “ I have traveled many days, and many nights, I have lost all my fortune in search of this place, in which I was told love can be found, I am here to find love, please let me in”, “I’m sorry sir, but I cannot let you in yet, you must wait.” the stern expression in his face turned to a friendly smile “Yet, if you must, you might attempt to sneak past me while I look the other way, just be warned that beyond this door, there stand four more, each one with it’s own doorman. Each doorman will be harsher and ruthless,it's a great risk, yiou could lose your life, each door will be smaller, and harder to get through.” The man looked at the door hesitantly for a moment, and leaned his head into the opening to get a better view of what stood inside, a few feet away there stood another door, a doorman stood next to it, throwing threatening glances his way, the man drew his head back. The doorman, noticing his panicked expression consoled him, “If you wait patiently you will go through all four doors without further trouble” he then turned his head away from the door to get a closer look at the cracks in the wall surrounding the gate, “will you wait or will you take the risk?” he asked before turning his head to face the man, but the man was not there anymore. A smile drew across his lips, but quickly vanished as he looked down and noticed the man sitting there, his back against the wall “I think I’ll wait then” said the man. A few hours later the man rose from his stupor, and asked the doorman, “Is it time yet? Can I go in now?” “Not just yet, you must be patient” said the doorman “Or you can always take the risk…” but at this words, the man lowered his head and sat back down. And so the days went by, the man asked to be let in, and he was told to wait, and so obediently, he sat back down. And then the days became months and the months became seasons, season became years and years merged into a whirlwind of philosophical reflections, self-analyzing monologues, and friendly conversations with the doorman. The man grew wise, as he reflected on his life and the life of others, he looked back on his past, and understood his mistakes, but he also grew old, his mind grew weak and his heart weary. His bones grew tired until one day, he noticed he could no longer stand. Yet at that point something occurred to him, he motioned to the doorman to come closer as his voice was no more that whispers, for he had lost all his strength. With the understanding that the man was in his last moments, the doorman stepped forward and leaned his head so that the man could whisper in his ear. “I don’t understand this” the man whispered “everyone in life, seeks love, so why is it then, that I am here alone and have not seen anyone come here to ask to be let in?” the doorman chuckled “Old man” he said “This gate was meant to be crossed by you. The door was built specifically for you and you only. And now, the time has come for me to shut it”
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| The Vulture |
[26 Sep 2005|10:03pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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Numb |
] |
| [ |
music |
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The Magnetic Fields-Let's Pretend We're Bunny Rabbits |
] |
A vulture was hacking at my feet. It had already torn my boots and stockings to shreds, now it was hacking at the feet themselves. Again and again it struck at them, then circled several times restlessly around me, then returned to continue its work. A gentleman passed by, looked on for a while, then asked me why I suffered the vulture. “I’m helpless,” I said. “When it came and began to attack me, I of course tried to drive it away, even to strangle it, but these animals are very strong, it was about spring at my face, but I preferred to sacrifice my feet. Now they are almost torn to bits.” “Fancy letting yourself be tortured like this!” said the gentleman. “One shot and that’s the end of the vulture.” “Really?” I said. “And you would do that?” “With pleasure,” said the gentleman, “I’ve only got to go home and get my gun. Could you wait another half-hour?” “I’m not sure about that” I said. “Do try it in any case, please.” “Very well,” said the gentleman, “I’ll be as quick as I can.” During this conversation the vulture had been calmly listening, letting its eye rove between me and the gentleman. Now I realized that it had understood everything; it took wing, leaned far back to gain impetus, and then, like a javelin thrower, thrust its beak through my mouth, deep into me. Falling back, I was relieved to feel him drowning irretrievably in my blood, which was filling every depth, flooding every shore.
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| The Top |
[23 Sep 2005|10:10am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 bleh |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
The Magnetic Fields - Papa was a Rodeo |
] |
A certain philosopher used to hang out wherever children were at play. And whenever he saw a boy with a top, he would lie in wait. As soon as it spun, he went in pursuit and tried to catch it. He was not perturbed by the noisy protesting of the children, as long as he could catch the top, he was happy, though only for a moment, then he threw the top down and walked away. For he believed that the understanding of any detail, that of a spinning top for instance, was sufficient for the understanding of all things. For this reason, he did not busy himself with great problems,as it seemed to him, uneconomical.
Once the smallest detail was understood, then everything was understood.
Once the top began spinning, he hoped this time he would succed, as he drew closer to it, the hope turned to certainty. But once he held the silly piece of wood in his hand, he felt nauseated.
The screaming of the children, which he had not taken notice of before, now pierced his ears, and sent him tottering away like a spinning top under a clumsy whip.
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kafkadream5's journal