Friday, September 17, 2004

Wanton

I'm an irredeemably eejitous, liberal, tight as fuck, pathetically simple-minded, dribbling child!
See how compatible you are with me!
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

I'm also 88% compatible with Sarah, too. Yay.
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Thursday, September 16, 2004

The endless antiquity. . .

The endless antiquity
of human weakness
of human desire
of human nature
is everlasting

it shall never
be satiated
until the
last corpse
is bones

and gone
without flesh

---

The thought plagues
my head
The entire meaning
of our lives

---

Keep it full of things
Until full, over it springs
Expelling its inner turbulence
Making known its true diffidence

Minds are full of things quite fair
go deeper in the ruining lair
to catch eyes with naked thoughts, bare

beside our outward ploy
the inner sanctum is dirtied
a corrupted housing, wallowing
in the secrets of ornate human desire
building a bulk which shall soon outweigh
its carrier and force to give in

for to resist, what is within
that is to be not human
but an empty hollow

---

the going-ons
of the world
flash across
my face
but i do not
care

i stare
but these eyes
see something else

---

Slanting hips
crying lips
eyeing hints
legging it
seeing this torture
being eaten whole
by this vulture
i'm in a fit of lust
feeling that i must
have
must own this

---

working
is doing your time
for the crime
of being alive

even if
i didn't ask to be
born,
it's so

so further on, i go
let me go wherever i am taken

---

of the unquenchables
the intentionals
the sensuals
these are
our credentials
it is that we drown
in
that we're
found in
gasping to find
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Marilyn Manson - The Speed of Pain

They slit our throats
Like we were flowers
And our milk has been devoured

When you want it
It goes away too fast
When you hate it
It always seems to last
But just remember when you think you're free
The crack inside you fucking heart is me

[thought, not spoken:] I wanna outrace the speed of pain for another day

I wish I could sleep
But I can't lay on my back
Because ther's a knife
For everyday that I've known you

When you want it
it goes away yoo fast
When you hate it
It always seems to last
But just remember when you think you're free
The crack inside your fucking heart is me

[thought, not spoken:] I wanna outrace the speed of pain for another day

Lie to me, cry to me, give to me
I would
Lie with me, die with me, give to me
I would
Keep all your secrets wrapped in dead hair
I hope at least we die holding hands for always

---

Buy Mechanical Animals now. Amazing stuff.

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Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Oedipus Complex

I'm going to get to writing a story tonight, if I can. I haven't been too intent on my writing lately, and I feel guilty of it.

If writing is the profession I want to do, I must practice, practice, practice.

I gave my A.P. English teacher this year - Mrs. Beaudoin - a copy of "Martha," "The Child," and "The Pig of the Machine (The Desolate Shatter and the Open Plain)."

She told me I am very talented, which really wasn't a surprise. I've been hearing that for a while, and I have confidence in myself as a writer to an extent.

She said I should keep writing. Today I told her I'd give her more of the stuff I'd written, if she wanted. She said yes. So I'll be printing something off for her tomorrow. Not sure what, but something.

Besides the fact that I'm very talented, as a writer (which I'm sure you'd all say to me on some level, too), I feel I have an endless potential that still hasn't been even scratched. I feel I have a lot of creativity that's just not put to use enough.

Above all, I know I'm not a perfect writer. You've all seen me stumble around here. I've written some embarrassing stuff on here.

Lately, my writing's gotten much more succint, to the point, short, less cumbersome. I think it's indictive of the change that's happening in me, as a person, all the time.

For, isn't writing a showcase of the innerself? Doesn't what I write feed off what I feel, and who I am?

This means that who I am is radically changing at this time. Not that it hasn't been like that all the time. But as you know, I'm at the point of my life where I've got large choices to make. Ones that will influence my entire life, from here on out.

I think I'd be fine enough to say this about me and writing: I've improved a lot, and it's easy to see. And I've got a longer way to go with it - I've got my whole life.

Sometimes it's hard to write something. Everyone knows that. And everyone knows that the best things you've ever written are hard to beat, sometimes.

Well, the idea for the story I have is this: A baby is born, and it gets the Oedipus Complex.

Are you acquainted with the Oedipus Complex? I'm not sure. To make it short, it's when a child is two years old, or three years old, and they come to like their parent of the opposite sex much more than the one of the same sex.

So if you had a female child, she'd like her dad. And vice versa.

In the story, the child would develop the Oedipus Complex and eventually kill the father (since I'm thinking it'll be a male), and marry his mother, and have sex with her, force her.

Of course, that means I have to make a story going from when said character is a baby, to when they're an adult, and everything in between that time.

The stimulus which brought me to this idea was reading Sophocles's play, Oedipus Rex.

In the play, we're given Oedipus (the "O" in the name is silent, by the way. So you'd say it just, "Edipus"), and when he's born an oracle tells his mother and father (who are a king and queen) that their son shall marry his mother and kill his father.

So, to avert this, they have a shepard take care of killing Oedpius, and in one way or another, he isn't killed, and eventually does kill his father, and eventually does marry his mother (having children with her).

In Oedipus Rex, Oedipus is a tragic hero, and he finds out all he did, and blinds himself with his mother's (and wife's) brooches. And Oedipus's mother kills herself.

I find this play to be a good inspiration for one of my favorite types of stories. . .those that are morbid and the such.

Hopefully I can write that tonight.

In other news, my dad now lives in an apartment. This has been known to me for a while, I've just not seen any reason to really say it, and I still don't really see any reason.

As much as my parents have given me, I can't stand either of them.

My dad was in fact just now talking to me about the fact that I was using paypal and using his checkings account to pay for things. The fact of the matter is I was ignorant of the fact that I was charging things to his account, because my mom had told me to pay for them using what was on there.

I told him this, and he still went on. He also seems to think I owe him $50 when I do not. I've already written my mom her check for $76, and I've already paid off all I owe for things I have purchased on ebay.

My dad was also away to Denver for a while. He came back yesterday, and I saw him the moment I got from working at the Steak Buffet, sitting in his chair.

Immediately he got on me about the fact that I "don't clean up after myself," and said I should do that. He also said I was "disrespectful" to my mother.

Well, no shit. I'm mad at both of them.

I told him there was one night, when he was gone, when mom had wanted to go see a movie. I had looked at the clock, and it was 10 PM, and I knew the movies had their last showings at 9:45, and that she was probably trying to ploy me so she could go to the bar, while I sat at home watching my brother.

I told her she couldn't go, and then she said she needed to go get some magazines. I countered her quickly and told her if she wanted to get some magazines, she'd ask me to do it since she's too lazy to do it herself.

I then told her I wasn't going to let her go out and get drunk, and that I was going to Ryan's house.

She shoved me out of the house, obviously mad, shutting the door and locking it in my face. That night I stayed at Ryan's. I didn't call her and tell her I was staying the night. I didn't want to.

When I came home, I popped in to grab some money so me and Ryan could go see Resident Evil: Apocalypse. She said I hadn't called her, and I told her that now she knew what it was like when she was gone to all hours of the night.

My mom had apparently said that the above matters were cases when I had been "disrespectful," and so I told my dad all this.

I also told him that the fact that you should clean up after yourself is a pretty principle thing you learn when you're younger, and that I've just been busy between school and working, and I sometimes don't put too much thoughts into some matters.

He said that's no excuse, and I continued arguing with him about it until we finally stopped.

With my dad, I'm annoyed by the way he treats me. He treats me like he always has: as if I'm some lackey employed to him, who's supposed to give into all his demands and be perfect in every single way that he wants me to be.

This involves cleaning my room each day. This involves making my bed each day. This involves that when I clean the bathroom, it's never good enough.

Although it's not too bad, the main annoyance is that he'll chew you out like a boss, as well, and I'm sick of being treated like that.

He doesn't even give me anything for what I'm doing.

You know, I couldn't have my job right now. I could leave it. I could not try at school. I could skip school.

He doesn't seem to care for that fact that I'm trying hard in my life and I'm trying to get my place in this world. He doesn't seem to understand that I'm a pretty good kid, unlike some others who fall into the plague of drugs, or whatever else is out there feeding on the youth, letting them escape from the hardships of reality.

He hasn't came up to me and said, "I'm glad you work so hard at your job, son." He hasn't done anything like that.

When I try to get more freedoms, I subsequently get bitched at and told I'm getting an attitude and being "disrespectful."

Last night I told him straight-up that it's better without him around here, screaming at me all the time about things when I come home from 8 hours of school and 5 hours of work.

I've always been a blunt person. So I just told him.

He said that was also being disrespectful. He said I don't understand all my parents have given to me - food, shelter, and so on.

But I do. And all I want is some recognition. Not something so negative over everything. Not this endless rhetoric every time I see my father about some trivial matter, such as not cleaning my room, being lazy, being disrespectful.

I want to be recognized for the steps I'm taking right now. It doesn't mean I want a prize, or some gold medal for working. Everyone does it. I just want to be treated more like an adult, closer to an adult. Not like some kid, or some lackey employed to some business run by my father.

With my mom, I can't stand her smoking. I can't stand that bitchy way some women get when you're around them. I can't stand the fact that she can't see what she's doing.

While my dad was gone, this Sean guy came over. One of her friends, apparently.

I come home from work, and there's this guy sitting there in my backyard, on the deck in the front. Some guy I don't even know. Some guy my mom's doing who-knows-what with.

I'm not saying it's an affair. Inwardly, that's what I think. It's what all men think. The second there's a woman with someone else than you, or your father, or their husband, that's what you think, as a man.

Putting that aside, what I felt is just aggravated with the fact that there was this guy I've never met in my life at my house. It's just annoying.

I also told my dad I'm sick of what's going on. I said just get a divorce already.

Between this, and other things, I just can't stand my parents most of the time. I consider it the best thing that I get the hell out of here, soon enough. And I could, if I wanted.

They have this progam which makes it almost as cheap to go to the Minnesota college as it is to go here in-state. I might do that. Thing is, it'll cost money, money I don't have.

I'm trying to save, though. It's not working too well, but so far I've saved $75 from my last paycheck, and I vow nearly all of my next I will as well.

It's kind of insane how much college is going to cost, actually. It's depressing.

I don't work today or tomorrow, which is obviously why I had enough in me to make this long post.

It's long-needed, I guess. I need to get down and organize things.

As much as I might think I like chaos, the way the mind works is that it likes things organized. That's the way we are. Without organization of some way, we feel helpless. Powerless. And useless.

There's my psychology for the day to you.

I'm in A.P. Psychology this year. I like it. I'm even considering making Psychology my minor, maybe, in place of Journalism which I've never cared for.

That brings up another thing I've wanted to make a post about. I've got it all planned out, too. It'll be about science.

But that's for another day. I'm off to play some games, and just relax.

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Take That Pill

I
I know things could be worse,
but i think they could be better.

I don't prescribe
to that "this is the way it is
so live with it" pill.

I do not swallow it whole
with a glass of water.
I don't go to that doctor.

My brain's
not that
numb.
I'm not
that
dumb.

Don't
swallow
that pill.

Realize.
Open your eyes.
Open the blinds.

Things could be better
than they are
in this world.

Don't take
that
fucking
pill
anymore.

Things aren't changing
the way they could
because
change isn't welcomed.

II
Instead we fix
problems
the same way
again and
again.

1,000 dead,
6,000 wounded.

This is another Vietnam.
Another mistake.

Are the american people
this stupid?

And
who
are
you
voting
for?

There's trepidation
in the nation
Arrogance.
Separation.
America is a bully
America is a folly
America is not the world police.

We think how to win each time
is to fight with brawn.
We're wrong.
We're strong but gone.

Take that pill.
Get ill.

I won't.
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Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Casino, Dojo. . .It's All In the Mind

Yesterday I got Um Jammer Lammy in the mail.

The game is fun. But hard.

I only got to the third stage. I kept trying to beat the third stage, but I couldn't.

I find the third stage to be pretty entertaining. I find the game as a whole entertaining, actually.

The stage I'm at you're in a plane, for whatever reason, and this pilot keeps hitting his head. He alternates from being red all over and acting like an army general, to being a quiet-mannered pilot.

The music on the level is of a harder rock-ish tone, which is nice.

The main thing, though, is that the music on this game is actually good, and you sort of get into the game.

I'm still waiting for Parapa the Rapper in the mail, which I've been waiting for for a while. Hopefully I'll get it soon.
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Monday, September 13, 2004

The Fighters

I feel energized
I'm fucking circumsized
If you want me to show you
I could
But the question is, would I?
Should I?
I didn't think you'd like to know.
So back on down.
Don't frown

I'm a fighter now
You better believe it
I'm fighting somehow
I'm taking this all to town

Fists're fury
Fire's burning in the deep
woods of my passion
Need the nestled home
of a lonely standing woman
To put it out

I wonder how I make it
I wonder how to take it
I feel like I was born to destroy
From this endless destruction
I'm making what you can have
If you want it

I was born to live a lie
I smile at the sight of strain
We're all bloody red
Our wounds need dressing
My wounds're showing
Maybe I just feel dislodged
I don't know for sure.

Speak some lies to me
About love and being free
Let me leave this place
Let me know your face
Let it be embedded in the canyons
of my memory

In the memory
Where the sun rises too high
Where the moon shines with those craters
That look like eyes
Crying tears


Crying tears, crying tears
Those're full of fears
Shedding down to the ground
Wetting the solemn soil

Come on everyone, be a fighter
Let your pain and anguish carry you home
Turn it into fire
Purge the darkness and aspire
Let the wicked things crawl all over you
Let them do what they do
They're hairy with long legs
They're dark with dirt
Let them do what they do
Use them to build your pyre
Throw it all into the bonfire
Watch it burn to ash

Working for the time
Putting it all forward
Shutting the doors
Writhing in the sores

We're becoming
We don't know what we'll be
Keep on fighting
Keep it up
Step up
We're full of power

While the strong sleep
The weary prowl
While the meek are weak
They speak

Over far away
In paradise lost in dismay
We shall reap what we sow

It is green there
And
It is full of trees
Sheltering
the withering bodies
Of hardship
And
Apples grow there
On the outspread arms of trees
And
The strong claim it
And
The strong own it


With a fighter's call
The natives go into battle
Go to their jobs and toil
Hoping to claim victory one day

I hear indians calling
I hear trumpets calling
I hear all about a stalling
Your future is there
Find it and wear it
Like death, which
Is fate that we cannot defeat
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Wilco - Hell Is Chrome

When the devil came
He was not red
He was chrome and he said

Come with me
You must go
So I went
Where everything was clean
So precise and towering

I was welcomed
With open arms
I received so much help in every way
I felt no fear
I felt no fear

The air was crisp
Like sunny late winter days
A springtime yawning high in the haze
And I felt like I belonged
Come with me

Come with me
Come with me
Come with me
Come with me
Come with me
Come with me
Come with me

---

I love Wilco. Buy A Ghost Is Born already, slackers.
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Some outlaws live by the side of the lake. The minister's daughter's in love with the snake.

My Guestbook
You have (69) guestbook entries. Guestbook was last signed on: 09/10/04

That's sick.
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Friday, September 10, 2004

Hey hey, come pollinate me hey

I got Radiohead's Com Lag in the mail today, and I subsequently ripped it.

I'm falling in love with Radiohead all over again, wishing they'd release another new album.

If you want some songs from it, as always, AOL Instant Messenger name is machineofbones. I word of warning, though: I'm not on too much anymore. I'm pretty busy. Between school, and work, I don't get too much time, and what time I get I spend with my friend Ryan, or reading, or playing video games, or writing, or doing homework.

Since it's my senior year, I'm also starting to look at colleges.

I won three Manson albums from e-bay: The Golden Age of the Grotesque, Antichrist Superstar, and Mechanical Animals. A lot of people hate Manson, it's sure. The thing is, they've never given his music a real chance. They're blinded by the inbred hatred that's been bloodied to his name from the Columbine Shooting, and other things.

Still, I read a [link]long post Tony made about Manson[link] he wrote on his blog. He's also sent me some songs of Manson in the past, and I was impressed. So he got me sold: I'm going to get my own opinions on Manson. I'm going to listen to the music myself.

I already know I'll like it. From what I've heard, a lot of it is morbid, which I'll like.

Tony also pushed enough in his blog about a band called Say Anything, and their first LP release, . . .is a Real Boy, that I bought that, too. I'm not disappointed with it.

The genre it is in modern terms would be described as "emo," but to me it's more along the lines of punk rock.

It's determined stuff, as punk is. It's got that biting edge to it, the rebellious feeling, the lost and without a cause sense to it.

The writing on it's really good, too. The singer-songwriter of the band has a talent with it. He can make some good verses that stick in your head.

I really like it, so far, and I'd recommend it if you're willing to go for it. Again, I can send some of them over to you if you can catch me when I'm online. Just IM me, ask, and you shall receive.

Another CD I got from Tony's recommendation is Tweaker's 2 a.m. Wakeup Call, which has one of the former members of Nine Inch Nails in it (as if Nine Inch Nails isn't just Trent Reznor anyway, but oh well). I can't recall the guy's name offhand. It's Chris something.

But anyway, that's worth buying, too, from what I've heard. But instead of getting that, I'd recommend you get their earlier release, The Attraction to All Things Uncertain. It's what Tony was trying to get me to get, and I'm bidding on it on e-bay right now. It's probably better than 2 a.m..

I've also got the Blood Brothers' Burn Piano Island, Burn. It's hard rock. I haven't listened to it much, but it's very different from what I'm used to listening to, so I haven't gotten into it too much yet. It'll just take time, but I'm sure I'll get into it.

I also got Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which I was eager to get, since I was so amazed and fell in love with A Ghost is Born (which you should go out and get if you haven't: amazing album). I haven't listened to Foxtrot too much yet - I'm busy - but I plan on eventually. I'm almost certain I'll love it nearly as much as Ghost anyway, because Wilco's just an amazing band.

Got Bad Religion's new CD, The Empire Strikes First, too. I haven't had enough of a listen to it, but it's definitely good, and says things about the status quo of things in a well-mannered way.

There's a lot more music I've gotten, but it's 12:29 a.m., and I better get to bed.

I doubt anyone cares to check out any of the music I've mentioned anyway. So it's mostly wasted words.

If anything, if you haven't heard any Radiohead, pick up O.K. Computer and you'll fall in love. It's such a great, great album.
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