7.26.05
3:05PM
I spent about one minute outside of air conditioning today (as of 3:05 anyway). I was amazed at how just being outside feels like standing behind a bus. I feel sorry for anyone who has to do anything today.
This weekend Will is spending $400 to join a cult. I told him I would pay him $500 to come here instead. He’s thinking about it.
7.28.2005
7.25.2005
3 Dreams
7.25.05
9:03 PM
I’ve had three dreams of note lately.
The first two I had while sleeping in the Alexander Bed & Breakfast in Philadelphia, PA Saturday night and the third I had last night.
In the first, myself and someone I couldn’t recognize had this tree creature (looked like tall, wizened old man, but with something fronds for hair) that was about to die. We had to find a place to put him so he could regain his strength. We were running around Philadelphia desperately looking for anywhere because he was about to die. We set him down only to realize he was already dead. I was incredibly saddened by this and a woman walking her dog allowed her it to piss on the face of this dead creature. I was immediately enraged and spit on her. I screamed, “Don’t you have any respect?” and that was all I remember of that one.
Next, I was somewhere and I walked passed a music store that has appeared in several of my dreams over the past few years. In my mental geography it is located on First Ave. between 68th and 69th street, right where I grew up. The first time I saw it in my dream, it was brand new and had grand opening signs up as well as posters for a Heavy D album, (maybe). The next time I was there, there were ads for the new Nine Inch Nails album (this was around 2001 or 2002) and last night it had yet another new Nine Inch Nails album. The title was “NIN:NIN” and the cover was just Trent Reznor in a red baseball cap. After I saw the store, I saw a person I was supposed to know that did stunts for the Matrix and was walking towards a scene they were shooting a scene in the street in which Agents fired a line of shots to the left and then to the right. The person (who was on crutches) dodged the shots to the left, but then I was hit two or three times in the chest by the shots fired to the right. I lay in the street dying and then I wasn’t me; I had a third person view (from above) and my body wasn’t mine either, it was Kyle from South Park. He was lying there dead and all I remember after that point is staring at the body for a long time and really feeling the finality of death. This wasn’t a cartoon character; it was me in the shape of Kyle from South Park, but actually shot dead in the street. Both were very powerful, and I felt very ‘there’.
The third dream took place in this terrifying version of the New York Athletic Club. The Club is normal in some places, but in others the hallways are broken down and dilapidated, there are doors that lead to rooms made up of piping and chain links fences and stairwells and a room that holds a very dark unseen thing, like a force.
The dream started at some hotel where I was with Beck. He was talking about using cool noises and sounds on his albums and I told him I know of a room where the wind makes a really cool noise that he should record. He was interested so we went to find it. It happened that the room I was talking about is the room that contains the really terrible thing I mentioned above. I knew that, but the me in my dream didn’t, or he didn’t know EXACTLY what was there, he might have had an idea there was something bad, but couldn’t remember the thing itself. Anyway, the NYAC happened to be right across the street so Beck and entered and started looking for the room. We found ourselves on the roof where a person was proclaiming or preaching to a group of little kids. I remember this figure screaming that someone’s enemies would all die although I can’t remember whose. From there we continued looking for the room and found ourselves at the foot of a staircase covered in red velvet. The way was blocked by a bronze statue of the founder of the Club reading to kids (it looked a lot like the Hans Christian Anderson statue in Central Park), and I knew there was a reason the statue was blocking the way but we climbed around it anyway. By this time, I was with Beck and some girl. I don’t remember anything except she was rather attractive and wearing sort of a wife beater. We climbed the stairs and found ourselves in a room with red walls and ceiling and red carpet on the floor. Against the wall was an elaborately decorated red coffin that I knew held the body of the founder of the Club. The girl was scared, Beck didn’t really react and I was in the grip of a fear so intense that I woke up. Right before I did, I noticed that beyond the coffin was a doorway that lead to a place even worse than the room with the coffin. I can’t be sure but it might have been the room containing the dark thing that I mentioned. That room was frightening in a way that only objects imbued with a strong emotion can be frightening. This room was drafty at first with wind whistling through an open window or a crack in the wall or ceiling or something, but the whistling wasn’t just the wind, it was a sound made by this unnamable thing that represents everything I relate to fear in my subconscious. When I woke up after first being in that room, I was unable to move in my bed. I think the entrance to that room was in my sight at the end of this (Beck/NYAC) dream.
I had come to a room before (what might have been) that room a long time ago in 1997 or 96 maybe. I wrote about it in my real journal. There were two or three rooms that, for some reason, held religious significance (one room was John the Baptist’s, one was Christ’s and one belonged to Satan) and one that held a small sand pit the size of a doorway on the floor (Satan’s, if I remember correctly). I knew in that dream that I was not to touch that sandpit EVER. But for all the fear the first two or three rooms held, I knew there was a final room. It might or might not have been the same room. I had the dream in the room a long time after the one with the religious significance, but who knows how things like this work.
Anyway I have had three dreams in two nights that focus on death, loss, dying, sadness and utter, abject terror.
9:03 PM
I’ve had three dreams of note lately.
The first two I had while sleeping in the Alexander Bed & Breakfast in Philadelphia, PA Saturday night and the third I had last night.
In the first, myself and someone I couldn’t recognize had this tree creature (looked like tall, wizened old man, but with something fronds for hair) that was about to die. We had to find a place to put him so he could regain his strength. We were running around Philadelphia desperately looking for anywhere because he was about to die. We set him down only to realize he was already dead. I was incredibly saddened by this and a woman walking her dog allowed her it to piss on the face of this dead creature. I was immediately enraged and spit on her. I screamed, “Don’t you have any respect?” and that was all I remember of that one.
Next, I was somewhere and I walked passed a music store that has appeared in several of my dreams over the past few years. In my mental geography it is located on First Ave. between 68th and 69th street, right where I grew up. The first time I saw it in my dream, it was brand new and had grand opening signs up as well as posters for a Heavy D album, (maybe). The next time I was there, there were ads for the new Nine Inch Nails album (this was around 2001 or 2002) and last night it had yet another new Nine Inch Nails album. The title was “NIN:NIN” and the cover was just Trent Reznor in a red baseball cap. After I saw the store, I saw a person I was supposed to know that did stunts for the Matrix and was walking towards a scene they were shooting a scene in the street in which Agents fired a line of shots to the left and then to the right. The person (who was on crutches) dodged the shots to the left, but then I was hit two or three times in the chest by the shots fired to the right. I lay in the street dying and then I wasn’t me; I had a third person view (from above) and my body wasn’t mine either, it was Kyle from South Park. He was lying there dead and all I remember after that point is staring at the body for a long time and really feeling the finality of death. This wasn’t a cartoon character; it was me in the shape of Kyle from South Park, but actually shot dead in the street. Both were very powerful, and I felt very ‘there’.
The third dream took place in this terrifying version of the New York Athletic Club. The Club is normal in some places, but in others the hallways are broken down and dilapidated, there are doors that lead to rooms made up of piping and chain links fences and stairwells and a room that holds a very dark unseen thing, like a force.
The dream started at some hotel where I was with Beck. He was talking about using cool noises and sounds on his albums and I told him I know of a room where the wind makes a really cool noise that he should record. He was interested so we went to find it. It happened that the room I was talking about is the room that contains the really terrible thing I mentioned above. I knew that, but the me in my dream didn’t, or he didn’t know EXACTLY what was there, he might have had an idea there was something bad, but couldn’t remember the thing itself. Anyway, the NYAC happened to be right across the street so Beck and entered and started looking for the room. We found ourselves on the roof where a person was proclaiming or preaching to a group of little kids. I remember this figure screaming that someone’s enemies would all die although I can’t remember whose. From there we continued looking for the room and found ourselves at the foot of a staircase covered in red velvet. The way was blocked by a bronze statue of the founder of the Club reading to kids (it looked a lot like the Hans Christian Anderson statue in Central Park), and I knew there was a reason the statue was blocking the way but we climbed around it anyway. By this time, I was with Beck and some girl. I don’t remember anything except she was rather attractive and wearing sort of a wife beater. We climbed the stairs and found ourselves in a room with red walls and ceiling and red carpet on the floor. Against the wall was an elaborately decorated red coffin that I knew held the body of the founder of the Club. The girl was scared, Beck didn’t really react and I was in the grip of a fear so intense that I woke up. Right before I did, I noticed that beyond the coffin was a doorway that lead to a place even worse than the room with the coffin. I can’t be sure but it might have been the room containing the dark thing that I mentioned. That room was frightening in a way that only objects imbued with a strong emotion can be frightening. This room was drafty at first with wind whistling through an open window or a crack in the wall or ceiling or something, but the whistling wasn’t just the wind, it was a sound made by this unnamable thing that represents everything I relate to fear in my subconscious. When I woke up after first being in that room, I was unable to move in my bed. I think the entrance to that room was in my sight at the end of this (Beck/NYAC) dream.
I had come to a room before (what might have been) that room a long time ago in 1997 or 96 maybe. I wrote about it in my real journal. There were two or three rooms that, for some reason, held religious significance (one room was John the Baptist’s, one was Christ’s and one belonged to Satan) and one that held a small sand pit the size of a doorway on the floor (Satan’s, if I remember correctly). I knew in that dream that I was not to touch that sandpit EVER. But for all the fear the first two or three rooms held, I knew there was a final room. It might or might not have been the same room. I had the dream in the room a long time after the one with the religious significance, but who knows how things like this work.
Anyway I have had three dreams in two nights that focus on death, loss, dying, sadness and utter, abject terror.
7.19.2005
The Step
The candlelight laid flat on the silverware. He just sat there. “Tomorrow” he thought. “Tomorrow.” This was a very important night in his life. Or so he hoped. Tonight should represent the end of something. The end of nothing at all.
Everyone always said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. That might be true, but that step sometimes had to be much bigger than just any old step. There’s a difference between a step onto the sidewalk and a step onto a bus or plane or boat. Some steps are larger than others. He had tried little steps. Nothing happened. Ever. Never ever. He tried everything he could think of, but still, nothing. Ever. Then, he thought that the first step might be bigger than people always made it out to be. He thought of a big step. He thought and thought and eventually decided that he would not be able to make a very big step at all by himself. So he found someone to help him. Help in a passive sense. Someone to help him take the step, not in the way a person helps another person take a step, but in the way a shoe helps a person take a step.
He found his shoe. His tool that would help him build a bridge to another place. What had his name been? Roy? Ron? John? Maybe John. He wished, distantly, that there had been some other way, but he couldn’t focus on that at this particular moment. He was too excited. Excited for tomorrow. His stomach was tangled up in knots at the prospect. Was that a siren? He hoped so. “Here come the Change Police. The Agents of Change.” He grinned at his pun. He had never been so nervous! “Tomorrow” he thought again, chanting it in his mind like a mantra. “Tomorrow, tomorrow.” He glanced again at the scene. Making sure everything was clear. It was a bit dark in the room, but the candles were enough. One man sitting at one end of the dinner table, thinking, glancing, hoping; the other (yes, John, not Ron, but John) with his head resting on the placemat, his body cooling. Everything was ready. He was nervous, but he was smiling. Tomorrow would be an end to a routine. An end to the monotony. Tomorrow would not be the same. Tomorrow…would be…different.
Everyone always said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. That might be true, but that step sometimes had to be much bigger than just any old step. There’s a difference between a step onto the sidewalk and a step onto a bus or plane or boat. Some steps are larger than others. He had tried little steps. Nothing happened. Ever. Never ever. He tried everything he could think of, but still, nothing. Ever. Then, he thought that the first step might be bigger than people always made it out to be. He thought of a big step. He thought and thought and eventually decided that he would not be able to make a very big step at all by himself. So he found someone to help him. Help in a passive sense. Someone to help him take the step, not in the way a person helps another person take a step, but in the way a shoe helps a person take a step.
He found his shoe. His tool that would help him build a bridge to another place. What had his name been? Roy? Ron? John? Maybe John. He wished, distantly, that there had been some other way, but he couldn’t focus on that at this particular moment. He was too excited. Excited for tomorrow. His stomach was tangled up in knots at the prospect. Was that a siren? He hoped so. “Here come the Change Police. The Agents of Change.” He grinned at his pun. He had never been so nervous! “Tomorrow” he thought again, chanting it in his mind like a mantra. “Tomorrow, tomorrow.” He glanced again at the scene. Making sure everything was clear. It was a bit dark in the room, but the candles were enough. One man sitting at one end of the dinner table, thinking, glancing, hoping; the other (yes, John, not Ron, but John) with his head resting on the placemat, his body cooling. Everything was ready. He was nervous, but he was smiling. Tomorrow would be an end to a routine. An end to the monotony. Tomorrow would not be the same. Tomorrow…would be…different.
7.14.2005
I Hail from Raratonga
7.14.05
3:40PM
Wet dogs, my friends, wet dogs.
Today I had a rather bon Bastille luncheon with Trevor, Dorothy and Trevor’s big breasted girlfriend, Yvonne. Big breasted indeed, but also very nice. Dorothy and I recounted how we met (at that poop fetish thing…) and I ate a lackluster Caesar salad.
I hope Burton redeems himself with this movie. Planet of the Apes ruined a lot of my faith in him as a good filmmaker. I have a slight problem with directors remaking movie today, but Planet of the Apes? I mean, was there really that much of a demand for that movie to me remade? Whatever the case, I’ve heard a lot about Depp basing his character on Marilyn Manson for the movie and I hope I am creped out tonight. I want to fear for these kids. I want to feel the same way as I did watching the pedophile father in Happiness offer to help his 12-year old son measure his penis and teach him how to masturbate. I want to detest Depp in this role. I want to leave the theater feeling dirty.
I’ve had the bass line and synth line from “Only” in my head all day.
I’ve made several CDs for Gia and I can’t wait for her to hear them. I enjoy giving people new music to listen to. It makes me feel good. After talking to Dorothy today, I think I will give her some music too. She did mention, however that she doesn’t really get into anything whereas I get into fourteen things with my teeth and pretty much ignore everything else. I don’t want to give someone music that they won’t listen to or don’t give a shit about. A while back I gave Allyson a copy of E’s second solo album (knowing that she was a big eels fan and had his first solo album) and, to this day, over four year later, she has not listened to it. Why Allyson? WHY?! AHHHHHHHHH!! So anyway, you understand my concern. I would hate to be “that guy” that makes mix tapes or burns albums etc. for everyone and finds out that no one gives a shit or whatever. I remember one time (when Allyson had only had the CD for 4 months or so) I asked her why she hadn’t listened to it yet. “I just don’t have time.” Hm. The CD was about 40 minutes or so. I know Allyson was busy and all (although the busiest person in college I ever knew was Will and he found time to run around the quad naked, have “Kiss” playing for about 24 hours straight, piss up a statue, have troublesome pillow talk, help entertain Jade for several days, take a trip to a champagne party at Amherst and drive several women off this continent AND still become the youngest and hairiest man to ever turn down a job at NASA), but, yeah, 40 minutes. I don’t suppose you’ll have more free time going to grad school for psychology than you did at Fordham, Allyson, but if you get the chance, check out the CD, it’s pretty good. I think you’ll like it.
3:40PM
Wet dogs, my friends, wet dogs.
Today I had a rather bon Bastille luncheon with Trevor, Dorothy and Trevor’s big breasted girlfriend, Yvonne. Big breasted indeed, but also very nice. Dorothy and I recounted how we met (at that poop fetish thing…) and I ate a lackluster Caesar salad.
I hope Burton redeems himself with this movie. Planet of the Apes ruined a lot of my faith in him as a good filmmaker. I have a slight problem with directors remaking movie today, but Planet of the Apes? I mean, was there really that much of a demand for that movie to me remade? Whatever the case, I’ve heard a lot about Depp basing his character on Marilyn Manson for the movie and I hope I am creped out tonight. I want to fear for these kids. I want to feel the same way as I did watching the pedophile father in Happiness offer to help his 12-year old son measure his penis and teach him how to masturbate. I want to detest Depp in this role. I want to leave the theater feeling dirty.
I’ve had the bass line and synth line from “Only” in my head all day.
I’ve made several CDs for Gia and I can’t wait for her to hear them. I enjoy giving people new music to listen to. It makes me feel good. After talking to Dorothy today, I think I will give her some music too. She did mention, however that she doesn’t really get into anything whereas I get into fourteen things with my teeth and pretty much ignore everything else. I don’t want to give someone music that they won’t listen to or don’t give a shit about. A while back I gave Allyson a copy of E’s second solo album (knowing that she was a big eels fan and had his first solo album) and, to this day, over four year later, she has not listened to it. Why Allyson? WHY?! AHHHHHHHHH!! So anyway, you understand my concern. I would hate to be “that guy” that makes mix tapes or burns albums etc. for everyone and finds out that no one gives a shit or whatever. I remember one time (when Allyson had only had the CD for 4 months or so) I asked her why she hadn’t listened to it yet. “I just don’t have time.” Hm. The CD was about 40 minutes or so. I know Allyson was busy and all (although the busiest person in college I ever knew was Will and he found time to run around the quad naked, have “Kiss” playing for about 24 hours straight, piss up a statue, have troublesome pillow talk, help entertain Jade for several days, take a trip to a champagne party at Amherst and drive several women off this continent AND still become the youngest and hairiest man to ever turn down a job at NASA), but, yeah, 40 minutes. I don’t suppose you’ll have more free time going to grad school for psychology than you did at Fordham, Allyson, but if you get the chance, check out the CD, it’s pretty good. I think you’ll like it.
7.13.2005
When you smile the whole world tends to continue what they're doingwhile keeping an eye on you...
7.13.05
3:34 PM
Pretty good day so far. I got some VIP tickets to the November NIN show at MSG. I’m stoked because in a recent post on the web site, Reznor said they are going to play songs they have never played live before. There’s about a dozen NIN songs never played live before and I am VERY excited. I’m also looking forward to the spectacle. The last tour featured three thirty-foot LCD screens that were used to show images and, at points, used as lighting. The recent run of dates was just for the band to get a feel for the new stuff and to gauge audience response. This new one is going to be all out.
Tomorrow I carry on my tradition of Bastille Day with Trevor and one lucky girl (Dorothy, you should feel honored) for the third year in a row. My beret is waxed and waiting.
I have a sudden hankering for crumb cake. Starbuck’s crumb cake. Mmmmm…
I think (to celebrate my purchase and my consumer instinct) I will also eat McDonald’s today.
I hope my colon is prepared…
3:34 PM
Pretty good day so far. I got some VIP tickets to the November NIN show at MSG. I’m stoked because in a recent post on the web site, Reznor said they are going to play songs they have never played live before. There’s about a dozen NIN songs never played live before and I am VERY excited. I’m also looking forward to the spectacle. The last tour featured three thirty-foot LCD screens that were used to show images and, at points, used as lighting. The recent run of dates was just for the band to get a feel for the new stuff and to gauge audience response. This new one is going to be all out.
Tomorrow I carry on my tradition of Bastille Day with Trevor and one lucky girl (Dorothy, you should feel honored) for the third year in a row. My beret is waxed and waiting.
I have a sudden hankering for crumb cake. Starbuck’s crumb cake. Mmmmm…
I think (to celebrate my purchase and my consumer instinct) I will also eat McDonald’s today.
I hope my colon is prepared…
Nine Inch Nails Live in New York City
If you're interested in seeing Nine Inch Nails with Queens of the Stone Age and Death from Above 1979 on Thursday, November 3rd at Madison Square Garden, click on this link to get tickets. They go on sale this Saturday (July 16th) at 10AM. If you really want to go, be at that site refershing it every few seconds starting at 9:59. The last show sold out in 2 minutes. If your screen says something like "we couldn't fibd those tickets right now", don't despair, it took Rob 45 minutes until some freed up.
7.12.2005
Dislocation of the Living Dead
7.12.05
9:51 PM
The Morgue at the Hospital has lost a body.
Yes.
The Morgue at the Hospital has lost a body.
Jesus.
As of this minute, they are frantically trying to pass the buck to someone else.
9:55 PM
Correction: The Morgue is missing the wrong body. To elaborate: there were four bodies in the Morgue tonight. One died yesterday, one earlier today and two just this evening. Earlier today a mortician came and picked up a body…the aforementioned wrong body. Security will be blamed for this in one way or another. They are still frantically trying to pass the buck.
I just yelled, (understand that I never say anything behind my little station) “instead of pointing fingers, maybe someone should call the fucking mortician”.
They just scattered, looking for scraps of papers, phone numbers, toe tags etc.
Between this, the elopement a few months ago and the dead kid several months ago, they are finally going to shut this clusterfuck of a deathtrap down.
What a wave to be carried out on.
10:24 PM
I just heard one of the guards liken the events of the past few minutes to that of “ordering a roast beef sandwich then getting home and finding you got a B.L.T instead”.
Wow.
9:51 PM
The Morgue at the Hospital has lost a body.
Yes.
The Morgue at the Hospital has lost a body.
Jesus.
As of this minute, they are frantically trying to pass the buck to someone else.
9:55 PM
Correction: The Morgue is missing the wrong body. To elaborate: there were four bodies in the Morgue tonight. One died yesterday, one earlier today and two just this evening. Earlier today a mortician came and picked up a body…the aforementioned wrong body. Security will be blamed for this in one way or another. They are still frantically trying to pass the buck.
I just yelled, (understand that I never say anything behind my little station) “instead of pointing fingers, maybe someone should call the fucking mortician”.
They just scattered, looking for scraps of papers, phone numbers, toe tags etc.
Between this, the elopement a few months ago and the dead kid several months ago, they are finally going to shut this clusterfuck of a deathtrap down.
What a wave to be carried out on.
10:24 PM
I just heard one of the guards liken the events of the past few minutes to that of “ordering a roast beef sandwich then getting home and finding you got a B.L.T instead”.
Wow.
7.11.2005
The Big Muddled Sleep
Had a dream last night that was inspired by Chandler's "Big Sleep". It was labyrinthine and convoluted. I believe that Gia was behind everything and people were looking for Kaitlyn. Lots of cool period clothing.
7.10.2005
Depressing! Totally depressing!
Watched "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" for the first time ever today.
What a fucking bummer. I had no idea this movie was an ad for anti-teen pregnancy. My father would love it. What a bummer...
P.S. Judge Reinhold was, in every way, tha shiznit.
What a fucking bummer. I had no idea this movie was an ad for anti-teen pregnancy. My father would love it. What a bummer...
P.S. Judge Reinhold was, in every way, tha shiznit.
Wuv...twoo wuv...twoo wesbian wuv...
7.9.05
11:22 PM
Wow. This morning I get a call from a number I don’t recognize. A message is left. I check it a bit later to find that T.J. has called me. T.J. (Tabitha Jo) was Marlowe Ibanez-Call’s cute, blonde friend from Drexel who I met my freshman year at Fordham. We’ve had…a very strange relationship to be frank. She eventually left Drexel for some reason and decided that she was bisexual, and then she decided she was full out lesbian. I helped a little with this life decision and I had been there to lend an ear when she needed me; for that, she considers me a close, close friend even though we don’t talk more than every 5 months or so. Anyway, her message says that she has a question for me and that it’s very important.
I was very worried.
I just called her a few minutes ago to find out what’s up.
Her and her fiancée have picked a date and are getting married in September. They are having a Justice of the Peace and one friend each: T.J. wants me to be there with her.
Again, wow.
My very first non-family wedding (read: non-Conservative Republican wedding) and it’s going to be two lesbians. If T.J.’s fiancée can’t get her German girl friend (a photographer for Vogue) to come, it’s just going to be me and them at the ceremony.
This is the only acceptable ending to a week like this.
What an honor.
What a strange, strange honor.
Wow.
7.10.05
5:05 AM
Had an excellent conversation with Gia. She has rickets. And syphilis. Rickets and syphilis. Cool.
11:22 PM
Wow. This morning I get a call from a number I don’t recognize. A message is left. I check it a bit later to find that T.J. has called me. T.J. (Tabitha Jo) was Marlowe Ibanez-Call’s cute, blonde friend from Drexel who I met my freshman year at Fordham. We’ve had…a very strange relationship to be frank. She eventually left Drexel for some reason and decided that she was bisexual, and then she decided she was full out lesbian. I helped a little with this life decision and I had been there to lend an ear when she needed me; for that, she considers me a close, close friend even though we don’t talk more than every 5 months or so. Anyway, her message says that she has a question for me and that it’s very important.
I was very worried.
I just called her a few minutes ago to find out what’s up.
Her and her fiancée have picked a date and are getting married in September. They are having a Justice of the Peace and one friend each: T.J. wants me to be there with her.
Again, wow.
My very first non-family wedding (read: non-Conservative Republican wedding) and it’s going to be two lesbians. If T.J.’s fiancée can’t get her German girl friend (a photographer for Vogue) to come, it’s just going to be me and them at the ceremony.
This is the only acceptable ending to a week like this.
What an honor.
What a strange, strange honor.
Wow.
7.10.05
5:05 AM
Had an excellent conversation with Gia. She has rickets. And syphilis. Rickets and syphilis. Cool.
7.08.2005
Whew.
7.8.05
3:08 PM
Took a walk in the rain today. It was very refreshing after the sticky weather of late. I have decided that I like winter best of all seasons. You know you have feeling when you lose and then regain it after going from a cold place to a warm one. A winter’s day can be delightfully crisp whereas the summer weather is mostly soggy, be it from the rain or from the humidity. Man oh golly gosh is this interesting. “Why Winter Is My Favorite Season”. Christ.
How can I make this more interesting?
Whatever.
I’m going to miss you guys.
7:35 PM
What a dark break. Things looking a little brighter, but we all know how quickly the clouds move. Well, some of us do at least.
Constant reevaluation of cloud cover allows us to more clearly make things out.
10:51 PM
Gia is on her way. That is awesome. Sursly.
11:10 PM
It is so delicate out right now.
3:08 PM
Took a walk in the rain today. It was very refreshing after the sticky weather of late. I have decided that I like winter best of all seasons. You know you have feeling when you lose and then regain it after going from a cold place to a warm one. A winter’s day can be delightfully crisp whereas the summer weather is mostly soggy, be it from the rain or from the humidity. Man oh golly gosh is this interesting. “Why Winter Is My Favorite Season”. Christ.
How can I make this more interesting?
Whatever.
I’m going to miss you guys.
7:35 PM
What a dark break. Things looking a little brighter, but we all know how quickly the clouds move. Well, some of us do at least.
Constant reevaluation of cloud cover allows us to more clearly make things out.
10:51 PM
Gia is on her way. That is awesome. Sursly.
11:10 PM
It is so delicate out right now.
7.07.2005
37 Lost in Underground Horror
7.7.05
6:45 PM
I feel like a burnt flower.
7:14 PM
Feel a little less like a burnt flower after some food. Still feel a bit off. So fucking tired for no reason. I’m going to listen to some David Bowie tonight. Back to feeling strange before, I had a short period of hypersensitivity to salt. No idea what that means.
“Ain’t no one damn song that can make me…break down and cryyyyyyyy…”
It’s true you know. There used to be a few, but after doing so once or twice or three times they tend to stop having that effect, which kind of sucks. It’s hard to feel emotions nowadays. Honestly, after seeing all the footage from September 11th on television over and over again, I just kind of disconnected. I mean, when it was happening, it was easy enough to just think “oh, it’s on TV, this could be real, but it’s not”, but after finding out about my cousin, it was not possible for me to continue thinking like that and I think some of me went numb. Some people went into therapy, some people became downright clitoral and worried about everything, some people left New York City and some people went numb. I think each response has its merits. That particular experience was a little strange for me. My friend Giancarlo’s father was working in one of the Towers and escaped without any (physical) damage and that was the big thing at Fordham in my circle of friends. GC obviously knew about that the day it happened. As for my cousin, no one was certain what happened for a week or so and at that point I guess I felt it would have been some despicable cry for attention or fucked up attempt to top what happened to GC so I never really brought it up. Then the whole thing just sort of scabbed over and stopped hurting because I stopped thinking about it. On September 11th 2002, I was in my vocal tech class at Fordham and the teacher demanded we talk about it for some half-assed therapeutic reasons. Everyone was spouting out the typical “it’s hard not t be afraid of things” garble and when it came to me I went off about how obnoxiously it was displayed. The way they showed that footage on the news like people had forgotten what happened? Jesus Christ! And that fucking “In the Arms of Angels” song that was pure sap without anything added being played on the radio with NEWS REPORTS FROM THE BOMBING LAID OVER IT? Wow. It’s a distinctly New York thing to take a naturally dramatic situation and make it even more dramatic, and how do we make one of the largest terrorist attacks ever more dramatic? We find any and every excuse to show it again and play sappy songs with radio reports laid over them. Pretty impressive in a slimy sort of way. Anyway, I’m going off about all this and I start getting choked up. M teacher keeps prodding and I tell the class about my cousin. I’m doing my best to hold onto this and I suddenly realized how much this fucking hurts. Holy shit did it hurt. The rest of that day was dark and troublesome for me, but the next day it hurt less and then less and then, as before, it scabbed over and boom. It was one of the clearest examples of a defensive mechanism working inside me and it was scary how quickly my mind shut doors and redirected thoughts but it was also comforting in a way. No matter what, my mind is going to be there to work its obfuscatory magic. I just think it’s impressive, that’s all. All the above was triggered by the thing in London today I suppose. Not really good to talk about it…but…I don’t know.
6:45 PM
I feel like a burnt flower.
7:14 PM
Feel a little less like a burnt flower after some food. Still feel a bit off. So fucking tired for no reason. I’m going to listen to some David Bowie tonight. Back to feeling strange before, I had a short period of hypersensitivity to salt. No idea what that means.
“Ain’t no one damn song that can make me…break down and cryyyyyyyy…”
It’s true you know. There used to be a few, but after doing so once or twice or three times they tend to stop having that effect, which kind of sucks. It’s hard to feel emotions nowadays. Honestly, after seeing all the footage from September 11th on television over and over again, I just kind of disconnected. I mean, when it was happening, it was easy enough to just think “oh, it’s on TV, this could be real, but it’s not”, but after finding out about my cousin, it was not possible for me to continue thinking like that and I think some of me went numb. Some people went into therapy, some people became downright clitoral and worried about everything, some people left New York City and some people went numb. I think each response has its merits. That particular experience was a little strange for me. My friend Giancarlo’s father was working in one of the Towers and escaped without any (physical) damage and that was the big thing at Fordham in my circle of friends. GC obviously knew about that the day it happened. As for my cousin, no one was certain what happened for a week or so and at that point I guess I felt it would have been some despicable cry for attention or fucked up attempt to top what happened to GC so I never really brought it up. Then the whole thing just sort of scabbed over and stopped hurting because I stopped thinking about it. On September 11th 2002, I was in my vocal tech class at Fordham and the teacher demanded we talk about it for some half-assed therapeutic reasons. Everyone was spouting out the typical “it’s hard not t be afraid of things” garble and when it came to me I went off about how obnoxiously it was displayed. The way they showed that footage on the news like people had forgotten what happened? Jesus Christ! And that fucking “In the Arms of Angels” song that was pure sap without anything added being played on the radio with NEWS REPORTS FROM THE BOMBING LAID OVER IT? Wow. It’s a distinctly New York thing to take a naturally dramatic situation and make it even more dramatic, and how do we make one of the largest terrorist attacks ever more dramatic? We find any and every excuse to show it again and play sappy songs with radio reports laid over them. Pretty impressive in a slimy sort of way. Anyway, I’m going off about all this and I start getting choked up. M teacher keeps prodding and I tell the class about my cousin. I’m doing my best to hold onto this and I suddenly realized how much this fucking hurts. Holy shit did it hurt. The rest of that day was dark and troublesome for me, but the next day it hurt less and then less and then, as before, it scabbed over and boom. It was one of the clearest examples of a defensive mechanism working inside me and it was scary how quickly my mind shut doors and redirected thoughts but it was also comforting in a way. No matter what, my mind is going to be there to work its obfuscatory magic. I just think it’s impressive, that’s all. All the above was triggered by the thing in London today I suppose. Not really good to talk about it…but…I don’t know.
7.06.2005
What do your nipples look like?
7.6.05
6:07 PM
I am starting full time 3pm to 11pm at the Hospital on Monday. I am too tired to celebrate right this moment. I have 52 minutes left to go and my eyelids are heavy.
Philip suggested a great idea that I think we should all participate in. Every so often, one person arranges a CD (80 min.) of their favorite songs and makes a copy for everyone. When it’s your turn, you have to make a bunch of copies then every week and a half or so you get a CD full of brand new music. We could do this as long as we have favorite songs. I think we could do this a few times before it started getting thin.
Last night I listened to the Soundgarden I downloaded a few weeks ago. Wow. Welcome back to the 90’s, my friends. This weekend shall be the antithesis of last. No one will be here and I am working 7pm to 7am (without the aid of Taurine) at the Hospital. Got to put together a Netflix bouquet. I don’t think I’ll be biting anyone and no one will be biting me. :sigh: I like biting, but it’s kind of like massage: it’s 1000% better when someone else does it to you. I didn’t make that percentage up people, it was in a book.
I suppose I did not book the gig I auditioned for last week. That stinks because I would have gotten to ride a horse and yell “Away thy scurrilous lead-footed batswain, away!” at cars. I suppose one booking a week will have to suffice. HA! You braggart
6:35 PM
Just got an invite to an EXCLUSIVE party. I feel like shots. Maybe drinking will dispel this black cloud about my head.
Or maybe I’ll be vomiting sick when I flop into work tomorrow.
Only time will tell.
The love I feel in my heart right now is as overwhelming as the depression in my head. I know neither the cause for either. Neither for either.
Time to call Kaitlyn and Jen.
6:47 PM
Okay. Crash and burn. Although I did find out that Denise probably doesn’t hate me. At least Kaitlyn doesn’t recall her ever saying so outright. Then again, Kaitlyn doesn’t recall the weekend. She’s my new BFF, by the way. Kaitlyn that is. As for Denny, whatever. I understand her wanting to keep Nick away for some girl reason but I don’t know… The whole thing seems a bit high school. Apparently Denise though I hated her. Wha da fah?! I don’t hate anyone right now I don’t think.
Whoa. The Blues Traveler song Runaround just came on the radio here. Brings me back. You know that poor bastard was over 450 pounds before he got his stomach stapled? He had to be wheeled onto the stage in a wheelchair. Sad. Here comes the harmonica…
6:07 PM
I am starting full time 3pm to 11pm at the Hospital on Monday. I am too tired to celebrate right this moment. I have 52 minutes left to go and my eyelids are heavy.
Philip suggested a great idea that I think we should all participate in. Every so often, one person arranges a CD (80 min.) of their favorite songs and makes a copy for everyone. When it’s your turn, you have to make a bunch of copies then every week and a half or so you get a CD full of brand new music. We could do this as long as we have favorite songs. I think we could do this a few times before it started getting thin.
Last night I listened to the Soundgarden I downloaded a few weeks ago. Wow. Welcome back to the 90’s, my friends. This weekend shall be the antithesis of last. No one will be here and I am working 7pm to 7am (without the aid of Taurine) at the Hospital. Got to put together a Netflix bouquet. I don’t think I’ll be biting anyone and no one will be biting me. :sigh: I like biting, but it’s kind of like massage: it’s 1000% better when someone else does it to you. I didn’t make that percentage up people, it was in a book.
I suppose I did not book the gig I auditioned for last week. That stinks because I would have gotten to ride a horse and yell “Away thy scurrilous lead-footed batswain, away!” at cars. I suppose one booking a week will have to suffice. HA! You braggart
6:35 PM
Just got an invite to an EXCLUSIVE party. I feel like shots. Maybe drinking will dispel this black cloud about my head.
Or maybe I’ll be vomiting sick when I flop into work tomorrow.
Only time will tell.
The love I feel in my heart right now is as overwhelming as the depression in my head. I know neither the cause for either. Neither for either.
Time to call Kaitlyn and Jen.
6:47 PM
Okay. Crash and burn. Although I did find out that Denise probably doesn’t hate me. At least Kaitlyn doesn’t recall her ever saying so outright. Then again, Kaitlyn doesn’t recall the weekend. She’s my new BFF, by the way. Kaitlyn that is. As for Denny, whatever. I understand her wanting to keep Nick away for some girl reason but I don’t know… The whole thing seems a bit high school. Apparently Denise though I hated her. Wha da fah?! I don’t hate anyone right now I don’t think.
Whoa. The Blues Traveler song Runaround just came on the radio here. Brings me back. You know that poor bastard was over 450 pounds before he got his stomach stapled? He had to be wheeled onto the stage in a wheelchair. Sad. Here comes the harmonica…
7.05.2005
BABE!!! I GOT YOU!!! HEY!!!
Haven't updated my site in a while. So I made up for it. New songs, new works. One I wrote while I was sick, one I wrote while I was angry and one I wrote when I was trying to get fired for writing explicit things at the Hospital. Ingest.
Also, the new Nine Inch Nails video is out. The song is called 'Only' and it is all CGI. Created and directed by David Fincher (Fight Club, Aliens 3). Only
Also, the new Nine Inch Nails video is out. The song is called 'Only' and it is all CGI. Created and directed by David Fincher (Fight Club, Aliens 3). Only
Spit Out the Window
7.5.05
11:11 AM
As cold, clear Poland Spring water goes crashing down my throat I find the urge to recount the events of the past few days; more for myself than for anyone else, but since no one reads this except for people that were there…it really doesn’t matter.
I can’t really recall Thursday being too crazy, although, to be frank, I can’t really recall Thursday at all. I think I worked at the Hospital…no…no I didn’t. Hm. Anyway, Friday was Lisa’s Birthday party/ I showed up at about seven to find no one but Lisa and Alan on the couch. The place was bedazzled like the jeans of that dead actress from Full House. I became Jesus after that and ate some crackers. The cheese would come later. Around ninish, people started showing up. Some of them looked good…some of them looked damn good. Some chick brought a slice of pasta pizza. My horizons were broadened. By ten everyone was there that I was going to see including Alex, his wife, Rob, Pedro, some other chick, Alan, Lisa, Kaitlyn (already on her way to calling me up to tell me how much she did NOT miss me..), Phil (who was using his brain), Chris, Christina, Dorothy, Gia, Becca, and enough people to finish all the cheese and Doritos at the party, but not all the pretzels. At 10:15 I had to leave to take on my 11pm to 7am shift at the Hospital. I spent $34 on 16 cans of Red Bull and $2 on a big water.
The evening commenced.
After this…things splinter. I remember snatches here and there…specifically Christina’s snatch…zing.
There was a game of truth or dare played Saturday night with Gia, Chris, Phil, Josh, Becca, Kaitlyn and myself. Lines were blurred but not crossed. I won a major battle over Kaitlyn by freaking her mind. We all played until 5ish then went to bed. After that, we
You know, you were all there and through the amazingly short yet thick roots of our gossip tree, everyone has heard everything about the entire weekend, so I’ll just go over my thoughts, feelings, impressions etc.
It was crazy to see Gia for four days straight (most of that time spent wandering around my apartment in her underwear and Phil’s FBI t-shirt) when before that I would only see her on and off, sometimes going several months without returning her phone calls, but it’s really excellent to add a new member to our cadre. And her hickey (which won’t fade for a week or so) is shaped like a heart. Rock on. Speaking of “rock”, I had to write that across Gia’s chest. With my tongue. It took three people to hold her down. Considering my acting training, not too many boundaries were crossed. Maybe a few. I have a feeling that Chris would consider a few more of my boundaries crossed than she would have liked, but she did make out with my arch-nemesis and I feel like that plus the fact that I was the object of Phil’s beardy kisses about twenty four hours later pays me out some slack. I think what everyone has to realize about Truth Or Dare is that it isn’t about sex. It’s about seeing how far someone will go for the sake of fun. I don’t recall anyone getting pregnant or hurt during either game. True, tongues and lips were put where they, more often than not, wouldn’t be, but hey man, now we’re really living. Also, it sure as balls beats sitting around watching movies. I think Christina’s suggestion about moving it indoors is a good one, because the roof tends to preclude anything but licking, sucking etc whereas inside we have a whole kitchen full of things people would be dared to eat. And I must admit, the prospect of having to eat the remainder of Jade’s Vegemite sitting in my cabinet would make me (and everyone) think twice about screaming “Dare!” just to get licked, groped, probed, Sex Spiraled, whatever. Christina also thinks that the boundaries would be lowered even further by Chris’ presence and that by bring a list of dares thought up before hand we could avoid awkward pauses during which Josh is straddling me. Yeah.. I say we schedule another game soon. Aside from the games of truth or dare there was some innocent fun. On Sunday Josh, Kaitlyn, Gia, Phil and I played Spades and Poker (I was DJing during Spades, but that’s okay, I don’t know that game) and there was something so…old fashioned about that…it was awesome. A great counterpoint to the debauchery before and after. The picnic was a great success too. Min rocks. She has a magic about her that was actually picked up on by this little girl that we passed. She, I hope, will bring an innocent, ethereal fun to our group.
Over the weekend, Kaitlyn has shown quite a weakness. This habit of passing out and remembering nothing from the night before is fun to play with but, yes I suppose, a bit disconcerting. If you can’t remember the heat, stop drinking the cooking sherry.
Long story short, the whole thing was superfun and I wish every weekend would be flavored as such (minus the sleep deprivation, Christina terror-farting, biting Kaitlyn, being an asshole to Josh, kissing Phil and Red Bull). Yes. Definitely.
12:49 PM
Just heard an ad on the radio for the Phaser 2, a device that, according to the commercial, is illegal in seven states and makes you invisible to police radar for a two to three miles radius. Great. I wonder how much it would cost to fund a study tracking the sale of these and the number of fatalities due to speeding. Whatever, purge the gene pool. Natural Selection rules.
2:20 PM
At 12:54 I set down my electro stylus and picked up a BIC to write in my real journal (the one you can’t read, is much more exciting and contains the truth about how I feel about everyone and everything in my life). During my ramblings, I touched on something and then on something much bigger. And then (as strange as this sounds) without the help of a therapist or herbal teas or magic rocks…I had a breakthrough. I had a fucking breakthrough while bouncing thoughts around the inside of my head. I feel great. I have been using anything and everything I can get my hands and eyes on as a distraction for years (consciously, anyway, since I graduated college, but it happened there too, as far back as high school or maybe even earlier) but I was never able to find out what I was distracting myself from and why the fuck I had been doing this. I finally figured out that I have been distracting myself from making choices, from making decisions. Now why the hell would anyone want to do that? Consequences. That’s why. Fucking goddamned shit ass consequences. I cannot deal with consequences Can not. I figured this out during my journal entry. Granted, this just brings up new questions and I’ll need some help figuring out not only how to answer them but how to ask them, but this new area I’ve found inside me is VERY exciting and I look forward to checking it out. This is absolute proof that it pays to talk to yourself . Sometimes you actually can answer a question you had nothing for when you pose it to another aspect of your self. Jackfuckingpot.
11:11 AM
As cold, clear Poland Spring water goes crashing down my throat I find the urge to recount the events of the past few days; more for myself than for anyone else, but since no one reads this except for people that were there…it really doesn’t matter.
I can’t really recall Thursday being too crazy, although, to be frank, I can’t really recall Thursday at all. I think I worked at the Hospital…no…no I didn’t. Hm. Anyway, Friday was Lisa’s Birthday party/ I showed up at about seven to find no one but Lisa and Alan on the couch. The place was bedazzled like the jeans of that dead actress from Full House. I became Jesus after that and ate some crackers. The cheese would come later. Around ninish, people started showing up. Some of them looked good…some of them looked damn good. Some chick brought a slice of pasta pizza. My horizons were broadened. By ten everyone was there that I was going to see including Alex, his wife, Rob, Pedro, some other chick, Alan, Lisa, Kaitlyn (already on her way to calling me up to tell me how much she did NOT miss me..), Phil (who was using his brain), Chris, Christina, Dorothy, Gia, Becca, and enough people to finish all the cheese and Doritos at the party, but not all the pretzels. At 10:15 I had to leave to take on my 11pm to 7am shift at the Hospital. I spent $34 on 16 cans of Red Bull and $2 on a big water.
The evening commenced.
After this…things splinter. I remember snatches here and there…specifically Christina’s snatch…zing.
There was a game of truth or dare played Saturday night with Gia, Chris, Phil, Josh, Becca, Kaitlyn and myself. Lines were blurred but not crossed. I won a major battle over Kaitlyn by freaking her mind. We all played until 5ish then went to bed. After that, we
You know, you were all there and through the amazingly short yet thick roots of our gossip tree, everyone has heard everything about the entire weekend, so I’ll just go over my thoughts, feelings, impressions etc.
It was crazy to see Gia for four days straight (most of that time spent wandering around my apartment in her underwear and Phil’s FBI t-shirt) when before that I would only see her on and off, sometimes going several months without returning her phone calls, but it’s really excellent to add a new member to our cadre. And her hickey (which won’t fade for a week or so) is shaped like a heart. Rock on. Speaking of “rock”, I had to write that across Gia’s chest. With my tongue. It took three people to hold her down. Considering my acting training, not too many boundaries were crossed. Maybe a few. I have a feeling that Chris would consider a few more of my boundaries crossed than she would have liked, but she did make out with my arch-nemesis and I feel like that plus the fact that I was the object of Phil’s beardy kisses about twenty four hours later pays me out some slack. I think what everyone has to realize about Truth Or Dare is that it isn’t about sex. It’s about seeing how far someone will go for the sake of fun. I don’t recall anyone getting pregnant or hurt during either game. True, tongues and lips were put where they, more often than not, wouldn’t be, but hey man, now we’re really living. Also, it sure as balls beats sitting around watching movies. I think Christina’s suggestion about moving it indoors is a good one, because the roof tends to preclude anything but licking, sucking etc whereas inside we have a whole kitchen full of things people would be dared to eat. And I must admit, the prospect of having to eat the remainder of Jade’s Vegemite sitting in my cabinet would make me (and everyone) think twice about screaming “Dare!” just to get licked, groped, probed, Sex Spiraled, whatever. Christina also thinks that the boundaries would be lowered even further by Chris’ presence and that by bring a list of dares thought up before hand we could avoid awkward pauses during which Josh is straddling me. Yeah.. I say we schedule another game soon. Aside from the games of truth or dare there was some innocent fun. On Sunday Josh, Kaitlyn, Gia, Phil and I played Spades and Poker (I was DJing during Spades, but that’s okay, I don’t know that game) and there was something so…old fashioned about that…it was awesome. A great counterpoint to the debauchery before and after. The picnic was a great success too. Min rocks. She has a magic about her that was actually picked up on by this little girl that we passed. She, I hope, will bring an innocent, ethereal fun to our group.
Over the weekend, Kaitlyn has shown quite a weakness. This habit of passing out and remembering nothing from the night before is fun to play with but, yes I suppose, a bit disconcerting. If you can’t remember the heat, stop drinking the cooking sherry.
Long story short, the whole thing was superfun and I wish every weekend would be flavored as such (minus the sleep deprivation, Christina terror-farting, biting Kaitlyn, being an asshole to Josh, kissing Phil and Red Bull). Yes. Definitely.
12:49 PM
Just heard an ad on the radio for the Phaser 2, a device that, according to the commercial, is illegal in seven states and makes you invisible to police radar for a two to three miles radius. Great. I wonder how much it would cost to fund a study tracking the sale of these and the number of fatalities due to speeding. Whatever, purge the gene pool. Natural Selection rules.
2:20 PM
At 12:54 I set down my electro stylus and picked up a BIC to write in my real journal (the one you can’t read, is much more exciting and contains the truth about how I feel about everyone and everything in my life). During my ramblings, I touched on something and then on something much bigger. And then (as strange as this sounds) without the help of a therapist or herbal teas or magic rocks…I had a breakthrough. I had a fucking breakthrough while bouncing thoughts around the inside of my head. I feel great. I have been using anything and everything I can get my hands and eyes on as a distraction for years (consciously, anyway, since I graduated college, but it happened there too, as far back as high school or maybe even earlier) but I was never able to find out what I was distracting myself from and why the fuck I had been doing this. I finally figured out that I have been distracting myself from making choices, from making decisions. Now why the hell would anyone want to do that? Consequences. That’s why. Fucking goddamned shit ass consequences. I cannot deal with consequences Can not. I figured this out during my journal entry. Granted, this just brings up new questions and I’ll need some help figuring out not only how to answer them but how to ask them, but this new area I’ve found inside me is VERY exciting and I look forward to checking it out. This is absolute proof that it pays to talk to yourself . Sometimes you actually can answer a question you had nothing for when you pose it to another aspect of your self. Jackfuckingpot.
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