I think I've had this kid thing all wrong...

Instead of hating them this whole time I really should have been making friends with them. They really are infinitely cooler than adults.

"If I only could make a deal with god..."

But I suppose that would actually require believing in one first...oh, practicalities.

Weekend = good. Sushi, liquor, tv, tide pools. I needed it. Yay for things that have absolutely no connection to my real life. Or the remnants of my real life because there really isn't all that much of a "real life" anymore except for stupid bullshit drama that I'd rather just blow off because I really can't be bothered to care anymore. Oh, running themes. Run-on sentences as well.

I found out tonight the one person I had left in fucking ghost-town is moving. It's totally rad for him and I'm happy for him, but I'm really sad for myself. Self-pity is fucking stupid. Beer is delicious though and also will hopefully make me do that night time thing. The one with the eyes being closed and the dreaming and all. I'm crossing my fingers as I type.

"If I could make a list, of my mistakes and regrets..."

I'd put your name on top and every line after it.

I don't know if that's just directed at one person at this point. I most certainly fucking mean it though. I am absolutely done trying to put myself second in line for people to try to make their lives easier. Not that it matters anyway cause I've no one left to put before myself at this point.

I keep doing stupider and stupider things. I cannot make myself care. Not about that, and not about any of this. I'm done with ghost town.

Last night was kind of nice. Disconnect is always good.

I seriously am a bad after school special...

all wrapped up in a fucking broken package.

I had a good weekend. I went to Magic Mountain. I rode Tetsu the super bestest roller coaster I've ever been on. I had other fun times as well. Then I missed my train which I think put me in a fucked up mood for reasons other than the actual missing of the train and that's pretty much set my course for the rest of the week it seems.

I've been to the doctor 3 times in one week. Tomorrow is going to make 4. I found out I have this tumor, but it's not cancerous or anything. What a metaphor for my life. Metaphors are fucking retarded. My body is also getting all kinds of fucked up due to my allergies and now my doctor is worried about my kidneys again so I got all of these tests and have to get another ultrasound and I have to save all my piss in a jug for 24 hours and then bring it to the lab. I feel like a fucking nutcase. I HAVE A GIANT JUG OF URINE IN MY FRIDGE.

So here's where the after school special comes in. Health problems make me reckless. Like right now I am entirely over life and any sort of motivation I once had for it. So I go to this show last night with a few people. I completely forget that I'm on medication (new allergy shit my doctor put me on that fucks me up like a mofo, painkillers for the stupid uterus that is still currently trying to kick its way out of my body) and that I've had a bunch of blood drawn and haven't eaten all day. I proceed to drink 4 whiskey and cokes. I then proceed to drink pretty much half a glass of vodka one of the people I was there with gave me cause she had to drive and didn't want to finish it.

I truly did feel fine for a while. I stopped drinking halfway through the show and I was good. Then the show ended and all of a sudden I could barely stand. Once we got to the car I decided to make myself puke so at least I wouldn't get any more drunk from the alcohol I'd yet to absorb. I semi-pass out in the backseat on the way back to my car in San Marcos. I mumble some incoherent things to the people up front. They drop me off at my car around 1 and I tell them I'm going to go pass out in my car for a while. Which I proceed to do in the Restaurant Row parking lot. Until 3 am. Oh but first I puke some more.

I'm such an idiot. I don't even care. I have no idea what I'm doing and I really don't care about that either. I need something more and I know this logically but I can't make myself do anything about it. Right now I'm just sick of doing everything alone, of facing all of this by myself. Going to the doctor for my tumor by myself and realizing "Wow I could very well be hearing that I'm going to die today and I'm going to have to hear it alone." Then I thought about how I would have to be the one to tell everyone and how I really don't want to do that so instead I just wouldn't tell anyone. HA.

The ridiculous thing is that this is what I wanted. I do get what I want a lot. Then I realize I really have no fucking clue what I want. Ever. I am seriously overrated.

Shoot to Kill...

Is it too terrible that I'm basically living on coffee, antacid, antihistamine, liquor, and painkillers? Those are all different nutrition groups, right?

Something in me hurts. It's all psychosomatic but that doesn't make it any better. Sometimes I just want to feel level without feeling dead inside. It's always one or the other with me, never a balance, always a study in extremes. This will all pass, but the past couple of nights have been so fucking hard. I've lost all will to vent anywhere but here, so just deal.

I think it's done....

I really don't know. It was a fun experiment at least.

Also, it kind of sucks that some of the detail is lost through taking the picture. Especially where the flash hits, which I unfortunately have to use due to the cave-like lighting situation in my room.

If it all makes sense, you're the furthest fucking gone...

As if it's not obvious, I've been listening to a ridiculous amount of Propagandhi. Not that the fact is very relevant to anything I'm about to write, except for that "Life at Disconnect" is my current anthem. Yay.

So surrealism. Last night Raeven and I went for a drive up the coast through Oceanside and around the harbor and such. We end up driving down this dark street and as I look out the window I start yelling and freaking out, "Oh my god, it's the motherfucking batmobile, turn around!" Seriously. So she turns around and we park and some person has a goddamn George Barris batmobile, as well as Herbie, on a trailer in front of his house. It was the most amazing, beautiful, other superlatives, random thing ever. I took pictures but my flash didn't really reach very far, so I've had to fuck with them a bit.






This weekend was such a cliched "summer is officially starting" weekend. I have some rather ridiculous pictures I'll put up at some point. Here's a tip though...



If you are at a giant house party, do not corner three drunk women and proceed to recite to them a 5 page "pirate poem" that your brother wrote in prison. This is the reaction you will get. I think I got up and walked away shortly after this picture was taken. He was probably on page 2 at that point.

P.S. I just remembered that I ended up scaring this guy away when he found us again at some point later in the night by yelling at him about fisting. Yeah, I'm rad.

Wheeeeee.

Here's some art I did last night:



So first is this shirt I painted with a picture of this "Safari Animal" monkey that I found in my shower mysteriously. Ha. I like the way it turned out cause it looks like some sort of cave-painting or petroglyph.




This is a piece I started last night. It's done in ink, which I never, ever work in, because I wanted it to be a cleaner, more cartooney looking thing. Almost tattoo-like. Since I usually work in charcoal it's kind of um....taking forever. Also, it doesn't look very good, but that's rather beside the point. It started out in my mind as the snake and heart bursting from a rib cage but as it grew I decided it needed some tits. It's not done but I'm not really sure where I'm going with it. It just needs something more.

I will never be free, If I'm not free now...

So Raeven and I are plotting. Destruction, creation, art crimes, revolutions...you know, all the goodness. I don't know if I can ever sleep again. I don't know if I can stay here anymore. I don't know if I should.

Aside from that I stare blankly a lot. I dream of things that will never happen.

Wait...

So I just had the strangest epiphany. I was listening to a song that a husband and wife were singing together and I all of a sudden could understand why people would want that. Marriage or relationship bullshit or whatever. I'm not saying I want it, but I never could understand the force behind it before. I want someone to make art with or make music with or do any of the stupid artfag things I like to do with. I probably don't want to love them though.

I have a feeling this is going to be my night. Random blog posting bullshit to preserve my idiocy. I want to just throw it out there, in the open. Rip me apart.

Odero si potero....

Hostis si quis erit nobis, amet ille puellas.

Yeah um....loneliness is fucking fantastic. It bothers me quite a bit that I even feel this way. It bothers me that in addition to drinking margaritas earlier, since I've been home I've had half a bottle of vodka. Straight. For no reason other than I'm an emotional fucking drunk today and apparently I'm retarded enough to not mind being a cliche. Let's cry like a stupid cunt over wasted life and youth and such. Wonderful.

Being home with my sister and her boyfriend makes me feel more alone than I could possibly care to. Having only two close friends essentially at this point, both of whom have their own lives and are preoccupied with them (as well they fucking should be), isn't helping so much either. Good thing I'm probably too drunk to do anything too ridiculous tonight, because everything is rather fleeting and futile. Seeing Byron randomly today was nice though. Tiny pleasures, mes amis.

"Goddamn the day that I was born, and the night that forced me from the womb. And goddamn this town."

I have dyke hair. It is rad.

I have a car. I can almost drive it for really-reals.

I got pretty fucking smashed last night because everyone and their fucking brother was at the bar. Ended up staying at Denny's until about 4 am with Reggie.

It's weird because I was distracting myself for a while, so nothing really hit me. The past week or so I've just been pretty much hibernating in my room so things have finally started to spark in my head, to sink in and settle, to become fucking real. It's bad, but not as bad as I thought.

I really want to go see Ministry and RevCo this weekend. I doubt it's going to happen for several reasons, such is life and things.

I unpacked about half of my books. It made me start to feel whole again.

Did i waste my time? I think i did- I worked for life

Turn and face the strange, eh? I'm fairly certain everyone knows what's going on, so I don't really feel the need to spell it all out here. I'm still working on a healthy plan of distraction, intoxication, and internalization. In all of their myriad forms.

I don't think I have much to really write. There's just too fucking much changing and beginning and ending. All I can think in are quotes and lyrics, retardedly enough. I just kinda wanted to let everyone know I'm still around, though maybe not in a very accessible way at the moment. Patience children, I'll be back at some point.

Confusion reigns supreme!

So take that Chairman Kaga!

Tonight was fucking weird. Not weird in the way of Tuesday night meat-market though. Much, much weirder. I say things I shouldn't. I think I really am just a giant tease. I only mean that quasi-sexually. Some things become self-fulfilling prophecies it seems.

I'm finally done with the devil of a literary journal. I had my final meeting and revision session at 10 am. Once I got home I spent the rest of the day watching "The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy" which I'm convinced is the best cartoon ever and they were running some kind of marathon of it today. Once it got to the point where they were only showing episodes I'd seen before, my entire plan became listening to Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, and the Magnetic Fields and taking a nap. It was fucking gloriously amazing. Then I started season 5 of Six Feet Under. It's going to kill me I swear. Soooo not the show you need to be watching when you're stressed and angsty and depressed and restless. Learn from my mistakes people! And yeah, I am still stressed. I don't know why, everything is done for now, things should be calming down. I guess I haven't found a good relief......or release, whichever you choose to think is the answer to these things. Ha.

Tonight people surprised the fuck out of me. Some very pleasantly, some not so much at all. I saw a fight. It was not so much with the goodness, which should tell you something because I do love some good old fashioned violence and seem to have a fetish for "bloodsport" so to speak. Ghost-town is bringing out my inner zombie again I think. Sometimes, it's more like my inner raging fucking cunt though. Why the fuck don't I have my cave? Why am I such a realist?

Yeah I know....the real question should be: Why am I such an introspective, narcissistic retard?
Please don't bother answering that, you know other people's opinions tend to mean scheisse to me. What with my ginormous, over-enflated ego.

Now, who wants some machaca? ;)

Sé que no siempre tengo la razón Pero no he olvidado hacia donde voy Ya no siento algún temor Por que nunca olvido hacia donde voy.

Wow. Seriously, I don't know what the fuck to say. What the fuck do you really say when someone you used to love decides they're getting married? Not that this is the first time this has happened to me, but it still blows my fucking mind, every time.

I'm going to be 25 in a month exactly (well at this point it's probably the 7th, so in one day less than a month). I've never been one to freak out over aging, but honestly, I am freaking the fuck out. Badly. I don't feel old, it's not that kind of bullshit. But fuck, a third of my life (if I'm *lucky*) is over. I don't even know how to comprehend that. What am I doing? The title of this posting? All a fucking lie. It was true at one point. I think that fact just makes me even sadder. I'm so sick of being afraid, of holding back. I'm so sick of caring, honestly. If there's nothing after this, why does anything I do matter in the long run? Why am I not running wild in the streets? Why am I trying to avoid judgement? Why am I settling?

I told someone the other day that my only consolation in life, the thing that keeps me sane, is the knowledge that I can cut and run, that I can just leave, at any time. I'm such a fucking liar. I have absolutely no faith in myself to do that anymore and I haven't in a long time. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be this.

Yes, I'm drunk. Go fuck yourself.

Bound by lust From what I know Bound by lust Bound by trust

Fuck.

I don't know if I have no idea what I'm feeling or if I'm just at a loss for words over it. My stomach wants to kill me right now. They're bombing at Pendleton and everything is filled with this deep bass rumbling and shaking. It feels like my pulse. It also feels symbolic. GrrrConfusion.

Also....Die Bravura! Die!

Tonight is certainly going to be an interesting night. We'll see which side of crazy I come out on, ha.

Your ideal is a daring courtesan of genius. Oh, you are the kind of man who will corrupt a woman to her very last fiber.

Today was seriously fucking bizarre. I'm rather happy with the outcome. Joe just scared the shit out of me and now I have serious amounts of adrenaline coursing through my body. I know I'm going to be up for a while now. I came to a realization today that made me both sad and happy at the same time. These things are such a bitch.

I was pleasantly surprised by so many people today. I feel like such a hippie in my fucking lust for life, why can't I just be on heroin so I can at least say I feel like Iggy? At least it won't last until morning.

Feels like I'm on fire, it's burning the world through, Don't let me fall without someone to hold on to

I've been listening to a lot of Sebadoh lately, for the first time in years. A few months ago I was in Garth's car and "Willing to Wait" was on. It was the first time I'd heard that song since the week before Joey killed himself, when he gave me a tape of him covering it for me. Ah, teenage emotion. That was 10 years ago. Hearing it again felt like being punched, forcefully and directly, in the stomach. I didn't even know how to talk for a while afterward. I know I confused Charles and Garth at the time, kind of killed the party and all. After a while though, it just made me really want to listen to them again, though I've yet to listen to that song. Maybe I should, it might be theraputic. It's so weird the way we build up archetypes in our minds that are just so exemplified by songs. Or maybe it's just me.

We had a lot of fun last night. Mindless, ridiculous, drunken, bullshit fun. I needed it, which is rather pathetic of me honestly. Pictures are here.
There are so many pictures of Ben because Valerie had the camera most of the time. Silly kids. We won trivia again. It's almost getting annoying at this point.

I'm sick of flaky people. That pretty much means everyone, I think. I want a surprise.

"If you don't go to him now I'm never going to take you to another prom ever again"

Fuck yes Pretty in Pink was just on again. I so would have gone to the prom if it was like that, full of hot James-Spader-being-a-dick action and wearing the most unattractive dress known to man that was made during an awesome fucking working-scene and having my dorky-hot best friend wear a bolo-tie and having Orchestral Manuevers in the Dark, otherwise known as OMD, playing. Oh and also if I didn't go to homeschool for most of high school. That kind of puts a hamper on prom action I suppose.

So I found some old pictures of when I went to the Pedro Domecq winery in Mexico. I put them up here. There are only 5 or so pics, but it was a gorgeous place and I'm happy I found the pictures.

I also put pictures up from our weekend bender action here.Want to know why I'm drinking cheerleader beer, look like I'm in high school and am partying in a car parked in a garage? Exactly what part of "under the influence" don't you fuckers understand? The pictures were taken over two nights but order is for the universe, not me.

The motherfucking Bravura is making me want to kill myself. It's been the most frustrating, anxiety-filled, angry, annoyed, other bad things, year to date for it. I can't even describe the utter feeling of dread I have over it. Let's just say I'm self-medicating like mad and it's probably going to catch up with me very, very quickly.

I’m lost in admiration could I need you this much Oh, you’re wasting my time

First things first. This just gave me chills like I can't even describe. I'm smitten, I'm swooning, et cetera...

We had quite the adventure last night.

I had a dream the other night. I dreamt I was an astronaut. I was going on a "space walk" or whatever those things are called where you're outside of the "spaceship" and attatched with a tether. My tether broke. I floated around space, waiting to die. I thought about life and philosophy and things I loved. I stared at the the insane things around me that I saw as I floated around the universe. I never died. My mind has been haunted with images of this ever since. I have no idea what any of it means.

I have no idea whether I should be disturbed or fascinated by it. Right now I'm both. My mother told me that dreams where you're flying are supposed to be the best ones so a dream where I'm floating around in motherfucking *Outer Space* should be the bestest, no? I don't know that I believe her. My sister had a dream that I was bulemic and the only way I could make myself puke was by licking my fingers after picking up dogshit. That one is perhaps even more symbolic than the one I had myself. Apparently I'm quite popular in dreamland.