November 1st, 2004


rock me asmodeus.

rock on rock on rock on. oh & hell followed with me. dressed up all darth. lightsaber, cloaks, shit like that, you know. i'm spooky, except for when 50something ladies keep mistaking me for a priest. most people got the dark lord of the sith thng. i called some trick-or-treating old lady an "old sow" for mistaking me for a jedi. you know. on the way to the dnd game, i saw twins dressed up as cowboys. both were chewing on the ends of their pistols. so yeah, kids sucking on the end of the barrel. heartwarming, really! i shiver with joy. so then i played dnd (gerd also came dressed up- trek, though, boo!) game had a lot of us being competant! at least, as soon as i convinced mike that i should be immune to the surprise round 'cause i have all around vision- if 360' is all around on a 2d scale, what is all-around on a 3d scale? went back to the graveyard of the gods, too. killed the fuck out of a crawling head. fought a bad-mean storm cloud, too. more fucking bull shit from a exposition character! man, playing the cynic is fun. but the real deal is- plots within plots.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- wendy darling, go to fucking hell.

(no subject)

hell always follows with me. i don't know- having known heaven, all else is misery? or whatever you want to say. these thoughts as vauge as shapes in fog. how do i say what i mean, when language barely holds solid beneath the weight i put on it now? my lies & hyperboyle are tought to make into solid words, words that hand fluid in the pholgiston. the aether, whatever. truth, though? i could say hive mind, i could say phantasmagory, i could say hell is psychomachia. there are all sorts of baroque words i could throw around. man, it's hard to sound all hard n' shit, while i'm watching angel. i dunno, joss wedon sure takes the stuffing out of "i'm so fucking magical" assholes like me. right? an argument i've been having lately with an ex. less an argument than the occasional salvo. whatever. fuck her. thing about ex-girlfriends? or ex-nebulous-whatevers? is the fact that they arn't right. you know? fuck them, because uh, they didn't stick it out. or i mean. they just weren't what you needed. like an anti-cars song. i guess that means a little something for jenny. she's the won who runs the gamut, who has my number. i guess i have a number, & that is 2. 2 is the number of mordicai, because mordicai is the crypto-abrahamite solution to the me dillema. uh, shit, am i still talking? fuck i am the best. i just don't even need to shut up.

oh i saw the grudge last night.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- "greetings starfighter."
closeup samurai

intestinal flora.

so i havn't said anything. but i've been having bad dreams in spades. i feel stupid about it; i don't know; my nightmare-space has been pretty temperate lately? there really isn't any explanation for my embarassment, though. jenny almost corralled me into talking about it, when on saturday, i, drunk, mentioned something about not keeping it together very well. look at all those commas. a feast of corpse-worms. that'd be the same saturday when everyone was like "lets go be fun!" i shot down, i was like, "no. my stomach hurts, i want to go home." & why didn't i just say that i'm all dissasociated? anyhow, instead i made some fucking noises about my relationship. why am i so ashamed of talking about my head lately? i have bad dreams. i feel like i'm not here. or like i am here, but like that is the worst thing. & okay- part of the mordicai religion is that being here is the worst thing. but i'm supposed to cope. i'm supposed to villian my way clear of self-pity. maybe that is it. admitting i'm still hurting is like admitting i'm bait. i'm wriggling on the hook, an impaled locust. & i mean, i won't have that. fuck that fuck that shit. i'm no kind of plaything. maybe, & here is me thinking about things, maybe i feel like to be broken is to be needy. & jenny has lately been in highly-independent mode. she hasn't had so much time for me. & so i have the part of me that wants attention, sure. so maybe thats why i feel like such an idiot for needing her? like, man, way to go mordicai. way to be a total drag.

anyhow, i've been thinking about writing a lot more. its been occupying me. so maybe something will happen.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- go to fucking hell, wendy darling.