Saturday, November 29, 2003


A burst of clarity like thunder. It cracks open the stale shell of false conceptions, and understanding flows out like ambrosia and milk, healing me, completing me.

I've always been a believer that if one steps back far enough, the crackling disoriented pixels will form a picture. It seems like I was right this time. Those things that frustrated and frightened are pacified permanently. I feel connected to everyone and everything around me. I understand my own motivations. I am connected to myself. I am lucid.

Or maybe I'm just exhausted and I needed a few words to satisfy the likes of Brain *points to head* once again. Never have I, or will I be connected to myself. I am unfathomable. I am myself this way.

Thursday, November 27, 2003

Still Here

Nostalgia has its place but sentimentality must never be trusted. Looking back and feeling sorry that things aren't how they used to be just gets you stuck. The past can only be lived but once. Once it is gone, the only thing to do is move on and experience the now. Sentiment is what should be striven for. Present feelings, not an indulgence of memories of emotions.

It's like that song, "I loved you yesterday and yesterday's gone."

Tuesday, November 25, 2003


I waver manically between sheer marvel for the kaleidoscope and utter disgust for its splintered shards.

In other words, I am bedazzled by the varied texture and multiple facets of the physical world, and yet, at the same time, these textures and facets breed such contradictions and corruptness that I feel physically nauseous.

Two sides of the same coin. Glass half full or half empty. What side you see depends on what kind of blinders you have on. But are these the blinders that you wear so to rest on down-filled pillows without disturbance, or are they those that horses are condemned with, so they will trudge through the streets that are not of their own making, whipped by an unseen driver, dragging the black carriage of responsibility and heaviness behind them?

Who's to say which is which?

On this weather-worn fence, I teeter madly.

I've always suspected that I was slightly insane.

Sunday, November 23, 2003

Am I?

Did you know that if you stick fruit into liquid nitrogen that it will shatter? And if it shatters you can then eat it and enjoy the frozen fruitiness in all its novel, scientifically-induced glory? Well you can. I had a dream in which I was in an astrophysics lab, our cool ass chick of a teacher let us mess with liquid nitrogen. Brett, my lab partner, and I stuck balloons, tennis balls, Peeps, an orange, and a banana into a mad-scientist-esque tank of nitrogen cooled to the temp of -200 degree Celcius. We then ate the frozen confections (with the exception of the balloon and tennis balls, which we just smashed). I felt as if I was attending a surreal space picnic. And also, did you know that since the confections are so cold, that eating it is like licking a frozen pole? Well it is, and Brett was little too voracious in eating and ended up tearing off the top layer of his tongue. It was oddly endearing. Boys are cute when they're bleeding - not that Brett isn't cute normally, but he was definitely more so when he was smearing blood all over a frozen orange. Hm... maybe I am a sadist.

Anyway, that's what I get for watching the Discovery Channel.

Monday, November 17, 2003


Sometimes you whisper words that are more heat than sense into the roundness of my ear so full, breathe, and then I know what you mean. A shoulder down. A cheek flush. Coolness enters my ear canal with keen silence that curls as it recoils somewhere in the dark, smooth of my head.

Saturday, November 15, 2003

A Moment

For a moment, it all makes sense. In this moment, there are no thoughts of the mundane dirty stretch that will follow - though one should probably be more pragmatic than to ignore it. But that's what makes this moment so great, so pure, if you will. So I live my life like this, sustaining myself with one moment whilst dreaming of the next. I guess it's always been this way. So shall it be.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

An Image

Crack open and eat me, like a coconut, satiating and propagating in the same stroke, with too thick nectar and slippery flesh.

Wednesday, November 12, 2003


Life can never be fully conveyed through writing. Experiences has to be pared down, and little objects focused upon in order for Life to fit into twelve point font. Perhaps in writing, one loses the mundane, murky routines of daily life, and tries to grasp the solid ropes of meaning and action. Its like the cries of "Revolution!" in a dying country.

I realize this because the last few days has been such a tangle of emotion that any attempt to commit it to paper has sounded two-dimensional and shallow. Such a tangle, such a stale mess. The only accurate description I can give is that of my optimistic conviction, that with a few well placed tugs, this tangle of anxiety, hurt, apprehension, boredom, and anger would turn into a tapestry - granted not necessarily a beautiful one.

Monday, November 10, 2003


who knew that this would hurt so much. i'm stalked by a deep, bewildering sense of loss. i miss you. i miss you.

Friday, November 7, 2003

Off Thoughts

Thoughts- both profound and vacuous- bubble forth, translucent and airy, never forming a definitive statement. And thus, my thoughts and myself drift along, never to solidify, forever abstract. Drifting in slew of incoherence.

I am vital yet morbid. Like inhale and exhale. I dream about immortality one moment, and contemplate suicide the next. Yes, like inhale and exhale. Or is it exhale and inhale? Morbid yet vital?

I am impacted too much by what I read. Yes I tend to withdraw. I tend to enter into a different world. One less mundane. One where there is vitality. One that is studded with brillance, where each singular moment possesses a unique, transcendental beauty. Translucent and airy.

All I want is for you to just fight me and break through to me and hold me down and scream your life into my face. I shall refrain from writing any more today.