Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in ennui.nihil's LiveJournal:

Friday, February 29th, 2008
11:25 am	propagation error of continuation and repeating, the same as yesterday is now unrecognizable. in general, what's the current status? you're happy/indifferent, not much makes you sad. things are well, not much is amiss. you are easily frustrated and angry, but are painfully polite in social interactions. you are free. the only people you know are a few you work with, and chat about intellectual and topical. if hell is other people, it's totally not a problem. no lunches, meetings, or movies, no vacations, plans, or appointments. it's not that you're anti-social, you're just non social. you handle your responsibilities well, but are procrastinating on the major surgery you really want. what is routine? you brush your teeth before bed, and stopped going to the grocery store on Sunday, you haven't been kissed in years. you try to water the orchids once a week, annual blooms come and go. you've been meaning to buy an angraecum distichum for years. is this an in-between time? there's no event or deadline, nothing is happening next. timescales are getting longer, and longer, what seems like just yesterday is 10 years ago now. you keep busy with puzzles and games, there's no need to seek out outside entertainment, diversions, or excitement. it is how it is, and all is well. cycle: 2 inn: 3 gates:3 (Comment on this)
Monday, May 1st, 2006
8:40 am	tomorrow is today Love is not gazing at each other, but looking outward together in the same direction. -Antoine de Sait-Exupery you seem to have a sudden interest in the future again. not so much a disdain of the past, just an indifference. it's like you have a secret, that everyone else doesn't understand. Your past? it's over, it's done with, it's nonexistant. you feel like a person without a history, everyday is the first one of the rest of your life. other people tortured by what happened to them from their parents/siblings/friends/enemies/strangers. how long ago? 5, 10, 20 years? people forget the kindness, but hang onto the slight. your environment shaped who you are, but its time of influence is over. why let an event you can't experience continue to affect you? it's only a memory, no more tangible than tomorrow. you've given yourself permission to forget, and quit dwelling on events and start living them instead. and, completely unrelatedly, you have begun to volunteer. when you were younger, you used to be violently opposed to any sort of volunteer work. volunteering was wrong, and not fair. most of the time volunteering just meant that someone else wanted something for free. and they wanted you to give yours to them, or you to pay for them to get it. and you were pretty sure that you were the only one deserving of your efforts and energy. who ever gave you a house for free? no one, you worked for it yourself. who ever went to the grocery store for you, or had a food drive, or walk-a-thon for you? and the only answer, to the question "why?" "it's a good cause." until now, you hadn't found a good cause. it always seemed to be someone getting something for free at the expense of another. and while that element may still may be there, you don't actually feel like your time is being stolen from you. you give it freely. it's not a chore, or work, or an inconvenience, it's something you want to do, that you enjoy doing, that someone else happens to need to have done. you still think a lot of volunteering opportunities are "free labor wanted" at best, but at least you've found one that doesn't leave you with a sour taste like you're being taken advantage of, but instead makes you happy and improves your day. income: 12 outgo: 95 even: 200k (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, October 14th, 2005
7:45 am	push over there used to be something so simple, dark, saturated and pure about black. it was your default color, always reliable, wouldn't you know it, your favorite shirt, or coat was always the black one. but lately, black has become supplanted by grey. because, well, black is too clean and too fresh. it is uniform and hides the details. what good is looking into the abyss if you can't see anything to horrify you, eh? "nothing" isn't scary anymore, it's the faint half hidden shadow which evokes a hint of truth that is the real menace. grey is textured, complex, shaded and background noise. you bite your tongue so well you've been learning let the reaction go un-acted upon. the little things still cause a snit but you have shut the engine down, pretty well. specifics? the constant inconsideration to your time schedule at work. //you don't want to think about it, because it's a lot easier to just brush it off, and take a deep breath, than it is to explain exactly what about it makes you twinge with anger// but you are in at 7, ready to do work, others are not. others come in around 10 or eleven. it doesn't bother you what they do, or how they do it, it's the fact that they act like they're the model //for which all should seek to follow//. it just really bugs you that there is the holier than thou attitude because they stay late until 5 or 6, and you leave "early" at 3.5 or 4. and then those stupid fucks have the nerve to act like their 6 hours of work make them more dedicated than your 9 hours of work. not to mention how one will go out to bars to see his girlfriend, but then uses work as an excuse to not be home, and then tells you that you do not have your priorities straight because you aren't *worried* enough when you go home and don't come into work at 3 am (after you've been out drinking). well maybe you just happen to be more emotionally stable and know how to accept the things you cannot change. at least you're trying to, instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off to prove how *worried* you are and how much *you care about* the work. but all in all it's pretty manageable so far, and you've been able to keep your biting remarks in check, and let them keep their feeling of superiority because you know if you respond with the facts, when threatened they will invoke an "acceptable work climate" response that "Most places wouldn't let u talk 2 the boss that way anyway." ha! yeah, right! most places the boss doesn't do a lot of shady things that happen around here. so you say to yourself, it's not worth the fight, and you deal with it. or perhaps more precisely, you ignore and repress it. it's a lot easier to see things as The Past, and unchangeable, and therefore not productive to get all worked up about. it seems healthier, anyways. current: 86 delay: .5 chief: +1 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 4th, 2005
12:12 pm	breathe into it it's time for another round of manual labor/abuse as your latest goal is to remove 400 sq ft of staples from the subfloor from the formerly linoleumed areas of your house. a mindless, menial and repetitive task to let your mind wander into a meditative state. lever, fulcrum, torque arm, and static friction the physics of prying. beyond the knowledge is the intuitive feel: the aggravation of *snap*, the pleasure of *creak*. learning the sounds as gloves give muffled tactile feedback too late for the firstday zeal of palm blisters, still not enough for continually banged pinky finger knuckles. alternately it makes you secretly glad to think of people you once knew, who are now out of your life. it is liberating to be free of the shackles of your past, to allow you to reinvent yourself with no contradictions. you don't have to change in anyone's eyes, or convince them of your earnestness. only decide it for yourself, and it is done. others' flawed and out-dated perceptions are an ongoing oppression of your self image, judging you, telling you who you are, deciding what you will be. shed them like sloughing off used, dead tissue. it is your life, you will be the one stuck living it. therefore, it's only logical that you get to decide what you are, it's far too important to allow others to define you. you might not know who you are, but you'll be damned if you let others hold you back from transforming into what you want to be. good riddance. rise: 270 diameter: 12 payoff: 3 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 30th, 2005
9:42 am	commencing first stage on mark Why is it that every band has such an ego about their musical style, that they refuse to be compared to any other existing groups, and pretend like they invented music and are like no other sounds heretofore created by man? And while you're on the topic, what the hell happened to jazz? glen miller, take the a train, and in the mood, are fine examples of swing music with a twisty little blues edge. then there's fusion, that sounds like someone beating the tar out of their poor instrument, whether it be trumpet, guitar, or piano. you have lots of respect for players who can improvise within a structure of an existing piece, but somehow it gets way off track, way too early, and those poor players are lost somewhere out in left field doing their own thing, while the whole band tries not to melt down all around them, trying to keep a recognizable support structure in place for that soloist, who's completely trying his/her best to ignore them, or lose them like a younger sibling on friday night. which reminds you, best said quote summing up your feelings about jazz, from TV show Kids in the Hall They say, "What do you hate about poor old Jazz?" I say, "The sound. The sound that Jazz instruments make when they're being manipulated by Jazz players to the delight of Jazz respondents. I think of it as musical barf." but anyway, the nice thing about ending chapters is beginning new ones. every first is something new the progression is practically tangible. events from the past are in the time before, back then, when things were different. it's like a fresh start, a clean slate, a chance to move on and sum it all up in a tidy phrase or two. what few things did you do, what did you learn, how are things different from now. every new years day, or birthday, or arbitrary annual marker are an opportunity to re-evaluate on a short time scale, but it's not on the same scope as going to or graduating from college, or a new addition to or loss from the family, or significant changes that signal a new phase, paradigm, context. there's real revolution, and beginnings, and then there's just another 4 piece band. advance: 3 light: 2 off: 10 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 2nd, 2005
9:05 am	rain, shadow and sun You wonder if you will remember them these in between times. waiting for. waiting for the loan to clear, the second week, the close, wednesday, friday, next friday, another day, the next holiday in september, you're ignoring the present, waiting to live in the future. weeks and months go by just to live for 5 minutes. what happens to the time in between? what are you doing, existing in suspended animation, day by day by day time being wasted precious todays cast aside time is just an obstacle why are you avoiding the now? not necessarily, just floating along on the current you can already see you're miles downstream, too many wrong turns, missed branches & forks, now just waiting for the trip to end. on a completely unrelated note, on one of your numerous lunch time trips to un-named golden arches themed fast food chain, you once again were reassured that all three of your bosses are indeed uber-republicans. if fox news didn't broadcast talking points that day, there's no explanation other than aliens broadcasting brainwashing rays into their soft, grey brains. but, your jaw dropped, your eyes widened, a swift intake of air, on the topic of abortion, your boss pretty much said children are a punishment for having sex. and he has 2 kids, wtf, you know they're loved... If a person doesn't want kids, they shouldn't have them. you may not want kids as of yet, but that doesn't mean other people might not want them, or that those who don't should be forced to have them, as a punishment. Like sex is a crime, and babies are the lifetime sentence. And then to finish off this triad of inconsistency, something light. you love your pillow it is gentle and comforting. happy thoughts of a chilly morning with the windows open dew in the air suede wrapped down comforter snug around you. your eyes are closed, but it's not dark. each way you turn or roll is perfect, but that's not necessary, 'cause it's fine right where you're at. light and warm and chilly and quiet. days: 20 surprise: 0 letters: 1 + 0 + 1 (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, July 18th, 2005
9:52 am	brilliant sometimes, when you've done something you're not proud of, or that you're ashamed of and regret, you convince yourself that now would be a good time to lie, or omit, or embellish. but then, you're on the spot, halfway through a most believable lie, because it contains truth, and next thing you know you're just telling the truth instead. you think you might be too much of an open book, every person you meet, you're just spilling out inconsequential details of your life, you lost an inner voice, nothing left behind. splitting dysphoria temp: 600 month: 8 wait: 5 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2005
8:31 am	when he was a little girl the day of your anniversary of hire at work your last grandfather passed away. not just last, but only. your father said it's not his parent, so he's just on the sidelines. but it's cruel, he knew your grandpa longer than you did. your grandpa was just moved into hospice from the hospital, the night before. see, apparently, when you suffer a massive stroke and are not conscious for three days afterward there's not much the hospital can do for you. he had lived a long life, had a large, loving family, and was the last of his generation. petronella, effie, james, nick, and his other brothers and sisters (8 of them in all) had long since passed away. his father, an immigrant from freisland, sent away for a mail-order bride. unfortunately, she met someone else on the boat over. the second time he tried for a bride, he went to pick her up himself, and he started a family with your great-grandma. apparently she was a mean, bitter woman who hated your grandmother and often spoke in dutch and said rude things about her to her family right in front of your grandma. your mom and her 4 sibs kept an eagle eye on your grandpa on the weekends, on the off chance that he might be getting into the car and might be going to visit his mom, their grandmother. it's odd he went to see her at all, after hearing the stories about how she stabbed him in the arm with a fork for reaching in front of her for the peas when he was young. that poor arm really got the worse for wear. when grandpa was 18, and crossing the street on his way to propose to his girlfriend, he was struck by a car and thrown up against a cast iron fence, the kind with the spikes on top. he lost half his forearm, and while in the hospital recovering, met and fell in love with your grandmother. because of his injury he didn't have to go to war. the real insidious part is how in the midst of all these people grieving over the loss of a person who had been in their life, the church tries to weasel in jesus. it's like brainwashing. they wait until you're vulnerable, and then manipulate your feelings. "just like jesus, so will we, too, rise again." you don't see why everyone is so sad if they believe that myth. you're the only one who's screwed in this deal. it really is over, you really will never see him again. it's all done. it's not so much his death as your loss. you never knew that before. you'd heard it, in reference to suicide "think about the people you leave behind." but suicide is a selfish act, and if you're so concerned about yourself, the last thing on your list of priorities is what other people think. hell, they're the assholes who could care less, and in their indifference allow you to feel the torment of your life to such pain that death would be better than this. fuck them, who cares if they're dealt a little of the pain that you've got, right? but the ones who just die, and don't kill themselves... it happens to the ones who knew them, too. but they didn't have it coming. this is the first person you ever *knew* who has died. and it won't be the last, but in your foxhole, you're still an atheist, but not a happy one. years: 8 age: 89 anniversary: 60 (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, December 3rd, 2004
8:59 am	time it always bothered you when adults would ask "what does That mean?" in reference to some article of clothing, or aspect of style or fashion. sometimes it doesn't Mean anything. it just means you find that shape or color or arrangement aesthetically appealing. your aesthetics are for the most part well defined, but according to a "what is your aesthetic IQ?" quiz you recall taking with a college-era ex, john, your sense is not always in line with established classical norms. the one that you remember the most that /you guess still bugs you/ is the doors /or was it windows?/. it was two drawings, each of several arched wall openings. one set was perfectly aligned, perhaps flush right. the other set was staggered, each opening alternating flush right, then flush left. you thought the alternating openings were more visually appealing. it was the symmetry, the balance. apparently, the 'correct' answer is that lined up ones are more harmonious in their uniformity. but on the whole your 'this one looks best' matched with the 'the correct answer is A.' but it never really had to do with analysis, it was a feeling, or a sense. art, creativity, 'right-brained' activities were the few aspects which you allowed yourself to not dissect. they didn't have to have a reason, or purpose, or cause or meaning. they could just be. this doesn't mean that you didn't, on occasion, thoroughly evaluate and define, but that was ex post facto. or is that de facto? any way. so yeah, to cite the example to show the point and have an exception to prove the rule there was one thing you did that actually had a meaning. you did, and still do, wear your watch on the inside. it's not just utilitarian, in the respect that it is easier to tilt your wrist up rather than the back of your hand towards you. it's because you decided that while measuring time is a societal invention, a shared insanity of culture, that your time is all yours. it's not for others, you own time. it's to remind you that time is short, and arbitrary. you used to wear three watches, all set to different times, you were so obsessed with mortality, death, clocks and time. now its just a cute little expression of your ego mania. that and the ring. oh the irony. but there were other things, listening to npr as you work on yet another re-upholstery project, one of the 'rules' for growing old is to "not complain about your aches and pains-everyone else has them too and they don't want to hear about yours." you mostly agree with this one. you are sick and tired about hearing about how his back hurts, or neck. wtf. what can you do about it? whining doesn't make it better, obviously, cause you hear the same thing all the damn time. but that's neither here nor there. another key? get this "be spiritual." somehow "do unto others..." means you're spiritual because all major world religions are based on it. what ever. that is such a logical fallacy. just because one can sing to worship god does not mean all singing worships god. and further - that golden rule = spiritual since religion based on golden rule? how retarded, this is watered down into some half ass term like 'spiritual'. you don't believe in souls or spirits or ghosts. hence you are not spiritual. it's pretty aggravating that some weak author decides that you need to be spiritual to be happy and live a long life, and that when she doesn't actually have any data to beck up this soft science hypothesis of hers, she not only reinvents the word but uses crappy logic to prove all people are religious. grr.stupid. there were like 6 others, but those were the only ones worth noting. it's a four hour drive from santa barbara to LA. and it gets dark early, and is boring with lots of traffic. road, sky, lights, water. driving your mind is drifting, half there, half nowhere. going on autopilot for so long is odd. there are a lot of porsches in CA. a lot. pay attention to steering wheel, look at clock, turn station. mountains interfere, there have to be half a dozen stations all carrying npr at some point or another. drive and space, plan your time it's all you can do. counting backwards from when you flight leaves, you allot for boarding the plane, getting through security. you work in reverse back to now, giving you 15 min. to find your way back onto the freeway. bands: 4 pocket: 20 cc ir: 8-12 (Comment on this)
Friday, October 29th, 2004
11:46 am	only crazy people think they're getting saner lately you've realized that you've been keeping all your emotions in check, biting them back - literally your dentist says stop gritting your teeth. you never really experience prolonged blissful highs, only brief waves of strong contentment and happiness. but they never last, but that's ok, too. if things make you sad or frustrated, you don't cry. somehow you either stopped feeling things so deeply, or you never gave yourself the chance, always have to be strong. so what is healthy? being an emotional wreck, overridden by self-hate and destruction, dark and depressed, conflicted and complex? or feeling nothing, withdrawn, in denial, detached. both seem so good, but so wrong. who wants to be stuck in a juvenile teenage-angst, pouting and brooding in shallow self-absorption. who wants to be numb and passionless, alone, isolated, and self-alienated? neither choice seems good. why is there always a choice? it would be nice if things are always just one way. then there isn't a right or wrong, bad or good, better or worse. what is so attractive about the villain, evil, or cruelty? is it the freedom you envy? bad people can't help but do evil, there is no choice. the conviction? evil doesn't worry about whether or not, it's fully committed. but then there's "good" evil and "bad" evil. you think. a crack fiend who mugs someone isn't really evil. so what is evil and why are some aspects so irresistible? evil is plotting and planning and scheming, not petty and superficial. anyway, it seems the only emotion that you've got no problems dealing with or expressing is anger or frustration. getting pissed off comes easy, and with a short fuse like yours, quite common. which perhaps leads into evil, as rage mutates into revenge. anything for the sake of itself is often disappointing: angst for angst's sake, love for love's sake, drama for drama's sake, and different for different's sake. there was a time when you did, because you could. is that any better reason? this self-analysis is going nowhere you're running out of steam. sometimes these one-sided conversations really don't have any answers. vancouver: 8-10 carve: 2 oven: -45 (9 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, October 1st, 2004
1:16 pm	what's so creepy attracted and repelled it's just under your skin prick you and you bleed in small doses it enraptures large quantities confusing. it's opaque and transparent (ok, try to not be cliche) maybe it's just out of order, but things belong where they belong and what belongs to you is yours. people don't take you have to give, it goes away what if it never stops inside out exsanguinated you can feel your pulse in you chest, arms, face, toes. playing with a danger with real risks is this what it's like to die? if you die a little every day, one day closer to death, as they say, you know what it feels like to be dying. what does it feel like to die? could you see it in someone's eyes? could you watch someone die? to find out, could you kill someone? someone you loved? you think about it, and it makes your stomach turn like the floors dropped out from under you. dealing with the loss is what scares you. ok, what if you could kill someone, watch them die, and they were brought back to life and never knew? or, you traveled back in time or something involving optimus prime vs. iago. just exploring the landscape. change: 50 lights: 2 relationship: 1!=1 (Comment on this)
Thursday, September 30th, 2004
8:19 am	conscience crush confidence goodness is weak. it's good (not) to second guess yourself. self-analysis leads to doubt which crumbles the foundation of your facade of certainty. you wish you could always feel as invincible as you do when you're feeling evil. well, not necessarily 'evil,' per se, as much as without remorse; indifferent; selfish. you know, stuff considered evil. but you like it. you like being evil. it makes you feel good, it makes you happy. you feel imbued, like you could turn bones to power and whither flesh away to dust, with just a look, a thought. violence and power, malicious and playful. it's the creeping self-doubt, the unsurety, the insecurity, that's what makes you unhappy and remorseful and disappointed and sad. self-examination is a plague that tortures you if you could only be free from your ruthless attack on yourself you'd be the most fearsome person alive. genus: 3 foot-candles: 1500 sweeps: 15 Current Mood: almost free (Comment on this)
Friday, September 17th, 2004
9:45 am	edge it's the most memorable opening line that draws you in and is only fully understood after the story is over. one of the most benign logical flaws of begging the question makes the most perfect type of introduction. it is always a pleasure to share a good story, even though you and your brother had seen usual suspects, his girlfriend had not. it's always nice to talk to him, and the visit was a special treat. after missing out on the cedar point trip on familyfun day at geauga lake, you were ready to ride some coasters. it was a new experience to watch him as a man, and not just a boy - a little brother. he and she are both mature and intelligent enough to have a relationship, and probably make it work, but if not, you know it will be because of careful deliberation, and mutual acceptance. but oh! they disagree on so much! religion, marriage, and music are the top topics. it was the perfect day to go, slight rain and cool so that the crowds were scared off and the resultant short waits in line were pleasant and not sweltering. she's not a thrill seeker like you and your brother are. you just can't quite understand how it is someone doesn't like the nervousness and anticipation, and crush or lift of g-force. but it's not just that, when you were at the cn tower, the intellectual thrill of stepping out, into the air, it was practically dizzying. like in akira, the ground drops away and you know in your brain and heart there is a floor, and yet you test reality and faith. shoe-gazing, it's all in your mind so deliciously torturous with every step, nothing but vertigo. exploring the city, you wear out your shoes, and will have to settle for the daytime tour. you're dying to check out the nightlife, but are beat. and the stares. your hair's not unnaturally colored, but you're not in the t-shirt and jeans uniform of the masses. but apparently you are wearing the outfit of the cigarette fairy, because everyone asks to bum one. maybe it's a canadian thing. so why is it? you want to be recognized but you don't want to be noticed. you want to be understood, but are afraid of people knowing you. you're an "out" atheist but will allow people to misconceive otherwise. shy and outspoken, smart as a whip yet stupid and obtuse, you let society and situations mold you into who you think you're supposed to be. you never thought you were a chameleon, going along, to get along. you're either the biggest hypocrite, or don't even know your own mind. you truly can't claim the independence you think you have if you're constantly seeking to appease others. how can you claim you don't care what people think about you, if you take such pride in approval. maybe you've told yourself you're a rebel for so long that you actually believe it, or maybe you're finally starting to grown out of that teenage rebelliousness. are you changing, or was that never really you? or maybe you really do have such disrespect for people that they're not even worthy of telling the truth to, and lie because it's easier. miles: 5 minutes: 5 maples: 5 (Comment on this)
Friday, July 9th, 2004
1:20 pm	over your head, out of your hands people and politics always a touch paranoid you can't avoid verbal acrobatics never commit, never agree all your answers are slippery. this is not poetry (this is not here) the world's a blank slate it's just the people you hate. you've been poisoned every look that lurks in eye ever since with the devil you've bargained you've been wondering why. building a better system but your stage has a problem tap moly straight, die moly crooked. cemented after double leveled, placed and augered mason line makes instant knots a circumcised spud thickens the plot. sweat in eyes stings your vision you're making the wrong decision bruised hands beating, callous blister healing. spf: 45 posts: 40 zone: 2.5" (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 29th, 2004
8:15 am	chelated who can deny the grandma factor? a visit from the to-be in-law mother & her mom, first time allowed in 7 years. what was quaint certainly isn't scary, ghosts and premonitions are signs of a particularly soft religiousness. with the herculean effort you humor, denying the itch-like urge to scream "atheists don't believe in that nonsense, you fools!" the harshest it gets is a fall back to a more socially acceptable "scientists don't believe in an afterlife like that." once they're tucked safely in bed, you and he go out to the block party and catch the tail end of your neighbors' sedately drunken antics. light bonding commences, and you're mentally painting shades of high school. noone's really like-minded, but what would you expect? there aren't really many 4-bedroom homes occupied by childfree couples. in fact, there's just the 1 on your street: you. neighbors are a strange bird, though. back at your previous home you lived in apartment-like isolation, maybe an introduction after a pass-by in the hall. now you walk down the street, and every other house has people outside. the central cast are TeamRice, TheArmy, NeitherRainNorDark, GossipCentral, and of course the extras are all the children. does one have to be friends with their neighbors? is it easier to just withdraw? is that the type of people you are? are you shy, or uppity? you'd like to think of yourself as initially very friendly, and sociable. passable for a passing interaction. these people could never be your friends but you don't want them as enemies. where is the life of entertaining friends, and having guests? do other people really have that many friends? not acquaintances, but friends. the bitter grapes side says no. how shallow and superficial they must be to be so desperate as to surround or involve themselves with people they don't like, or don't like them. how insecure they are, to associate with people they can't call friends. that's not what you want. no wonder they gossip and say mean things about each other and invent rumor and drama, they hate each other. so you wave and smile and balance the aura of the aloofness of cool and the standoffish-ness of outsider and wonder. really, are you excluded or just detached? reduced: $2k lights: 3 shy: 23" (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, May 14th, 2004
3:19 pm	politics there's a coup d'etat going on in your subdivision. strangely enough, you have somehow fallen in on the "undemocratic, old-school" side. so in further effort to alienate yourselves from your not-"good people" neighbors, aka "the 12," he thought it'd be amusing to put one of the toys cleaned out from the playhouse out by the sidewalk. the rubber snake. you're in the garage, cutting the crown, the right way (dammit.) when you hear a little, high pitched yell from the curb, and see a woman skitter backwards from the sidewalk to the drive. he's looking down, grinning that mischievous smile that's so devilish, while out you go to apologize on his behalf for scaring the poor woman, 'cause well you all know he wouldn't apologize --it's exactly what he wanted to happen. startle-ment and fear have different sounds, and you would know. that little surprise of getting your cuff caught in the fan, it elicits the same response as the battery shock at work. glibly he said "maybe you should wear gloves like you told her." and you're thinking "Jebem ti mater, she was refusing to do it, and it wasn't even live, there's a fucking difference." at least he's learned you're not his lapdog. hitching your wagon has certainly got its benefits, although if you have to hear about how he likes kinky sex and why aren't you married yet, you're gonna have to slit your wrists. don't trust men? ha! why stop there, you're paranoid enough to not trust anyone, regardless of gender, or sex. but you play your role, and let the backscratching commence. you've forgotten how manipulative you can be, when given the chance. it's cordial, and early days aren't so painful. what's painful is people who are so bland and -normal- yet claim to be weird or different or abnormal. it's like a catch 22, if they need to proclaim their uniqueness, odds are they are a dime a dozen. and this stupid functional autism, and einstein got poor grades bullshit, it's the worst sort of logic. someone gets poor grades and therefore they're as smart as einstein? or, about how it's hip to be defective, everyone's afflicted with asperger, or anxiety, or depression. wtf-ever. not all idiots are savants, just because some are, doesn't mean that because someone doesn't like to talk in class means they are smart enough to teach it. people's inability to gauge their own stupidity, and overestimate their abilities really bugs the fuck out of you. and then to make it worse, you've got to hear about how they "may not have book smarts but they have street smarts instead." yes there are different kinds of intelligence and aptitudes, you have excellent spacial relations and linguistic skills, but are weak when it comes to rote memorization. abstract thinking to the hilt, but couldn't for the life of ya tell you how far any distance is without a measuring device. but to be proud of ignorance, it's just worse than not even knowing one is ignorant. well, off you are, to try not to puncture a membrane valve on your UHV. it's strangely satisfying how similar the micro and macro are. chamonix and low temperature diamond would look very appropriate together on your La Fonda Germanium Red wall. torque: 5.31 + 2Nm volts: 240 pads: 1 (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 18th, 2004
12:20 pm	childrearing through a child's eyes, your mother never really seemed quite sane. as an adult, it's a shame you never really bonded with them, other people often seem so fond of their parents. before, you expressed concerned at the erratic nature of the interaction with the children. it was transparent before your eyes, the attention-seeking, positive behaviors ignored, and the negative actions rewarded. you wonder, have things changed, or does this just seem different because of perspective. now you understand what she said, between the kitchen and the dining room. you'd forgotten all the reasons, only the result. the incredulity of being "yelled at too much" laced with "it never hurt you," dissolves into "wtf? is it really necessary to berate the child for 15min. reminding him of a mistake he made last week?" and ending with "oh yeah, you'd forgotten about _that_". the distance of geography and time make it easy to leave behind an unremarkable, normal childhood. chicken/egg, was it your early reaching for independence, or the pushing away that made you a loner. as a scientist and atheist you rebuff determinism and destiny and fate and predictions. but what are causes without effects, and affects without cause? to see so plainly your nature is from nurture, it's a wonder you're not schizo, even though you consider yourself psycho. there seems to be more, but this exercise is tiresome. sun: +20 specs: -1 diamonds: +2 (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, February 6th, 2004
10:37 am	new favorite either he's finally brainwashed you or you seriously need this vacation more than you know because your patience is so short as of late. temper temper temper egg yolks in boiling paste treats for you. you just can't help it, the first thing that pops into your mind is "'tard." everyone is a 'tard. the worst are people who think they're not. old news, but it's still a fresh hell. sure, you're just as hard on yourself as others, but when the basic deductions elude people, you just have to wonder if they seriously are mentally defective. brain damaged. hence, retarded. and yes, it isn't fucking PC, but when was the last time you had to staunch the bleeding on your liberal heart? not recently, and with this current dysphoria, it's not surprising you have difficulties empathizing with the less fortunate. it's not just that you think you're better, you actually are angry that everyone else is so inadequate. you're normal, you're average, unfortunately 99% of everyone else happens to be below average. you try and focus on peaceful, tranquil thoughts: shiny black pavement, glittering snow twinkling like diamond stars on the ground, the windshield, the thin air. turning on the fan and having the intake outside the windshield bring the outside in, fine powdery ice crystal shimmer and extinguish in the warming car. your birthday gift to yourself was rewarded, and to think the trouble you could have saved. it amuses you, everything you say is probably sarcastic and it's got your mind all twisted up inside. if it's that transparent it's not concealed, therefore one must tell the truth to not be truthful? that's a new one, you have to tell the truth to be able to lie effectively. which is different from the best lies contain the most truth, but an entirely new cliche you've decided to turn into a trite phrase, 'cause darwin knows you don't have enough of those. it wouldn't be so difficult if you didn't always do things so right: the edging trim, spacial relations, and efficiency. you can't help but do it right, why do others insist on doing things the hard way, and wrong, on top of that? perhaps what frustrates you is the lack of control, over others, maybe realizing they might actually be independent, rational beings, and not simply constructs of your own mind. this is a challenging thought, you must consider it further. on a related point, you would make a great dictator. but you'll just start with a small piece of land, someplace that's your own, that you can bury the bodies in. under: 5 over: 2 shade: #FF3399 Current Mood: dichroic (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 18th, 2003
12:31 pm	hamartia no object a wicked sense of imagination it's not emapathy or sympathy but vivid and immediate. seeing the worst, as if it is, cold, alone, and suffering. what is it about that triumvirate with it's innate power and control? it makes you want to go and be overcome with it. not like this now, a quiet sense of breaking. it's a resignation that has past associations to sadness, but not going and being depressed, but just sitting a blank face, no passion, a weak line running off the page. unnaturally cheery voice inversely proportional to the corners of the mouth it comes out of. stress causes no opportunity for change but sublimation and repression. the late night drunken fest from which there is no hiding replaced by a middle of the day harsh light from which there is no denying. no spiraling, no chill breezes, just placid and empty, still and quiet. pounds: 5 due: 5 defense: 3 (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, September 27th, 2003
12:28 am	duct tape for humans he tells you that most of the democratic candidates only support abortion under certain circumstances and you think that's just not your position at all. you're really an 'abortion on demand' sorta person. you don't care if it's being used as gender selection, birth control, or just a woman exercising her right to control her own body. there doesn't need to be a reason, as far as you're concerned. what's up with this 'life of the mother' crap they're trying to hinge things on? you remember reading this one science fiction story, where all these clones are kept in a cave, and picked over for parts when their owned had a hunting mishap, or a receding hairline that needed fixing. sentient, reasoning, intelligent being should not be kept as living spare parts any more than a woman should be forced to be a baby factory, but stems cells are none of the above, and have so much potential for patching up what ails ya. what would really be a sci-fi story, what with private companies patenting the human genome, would be like something from gattacca where parents not only get their pick of the litter, but also have to license gene splices for Blue Eyes(TM) or other upgrades. then wouldn't you know it, the kid would be saddled with yearly subscription fees or something akin to an income tax, but a living tax where they continue to pay for use of the gene. that would be a good idea for a business. very evil, indeed. parts: 36 extra: 1 liars: 1 (8 Comments |Comment on this)