March 9th, 2004

closeup samurai

the wisp of breath exiting the airlock. the long yawn of heaven.

gosh i guess i've got all kinds of gordian knots for a brain, huh? by which i mean the strangling, boa contrictor sort of thoughts, wrapped around my brain stem in lieu of personality. thinking about it? i guess i'm not used to giving. by which i mean i'm not used to things being given. i'm the thing. i'm used to being needed. whatever; a sleepy girl basically curbs my wrath in three out of four (3/4) incidents.

it is clear to me that something awful is going to happen.
i'm a little bit loch ness today. look into me & see nothing, oh scientists.

what the hell is the matter with today? everything ectoplasmic slick & all that bussiness. i spend hours playing with the bones of the sternum; after a little while in class i go back & start rummaging through other bone collections. my how large this neanderthal femur is, etc. how many dead people have i touched? how long ago did they die? does it fucking matter to me, when everybody i meet is pretty much dead to begin with?
  • Current Music
    crown me king- rand corp.
blur shotgun

it ammounts to murder (premediated, because you are always meditating on it)

i've had all kinds of opinions. fuck, i've used kakistocracy in a functional fucking sentance. i feel like i thought about gender real hard one time & figured out what i thought about that. stuff like language & all kinds of esoteric rotting; flesh hanging off the sphere of the self. like; didn't i make a list of why individuality is a lie & how there is no such thing as self? i can't remember. uh, shit. this is all sand sieving through my fingers.

i reckon i've got things a bit better on now though. (i thought of a tommy gun).
  • Current Music
    cmk feat. john allison- "million dollar shark fight"