Trying to read something for school here and I find it interesting that when I have loud music playing I'm far less distracted. When music isn't playing, I start to go subtly mad from hearing the small noises of people existing in the other rooms . . . Forks and knived against plates, cabinets opening and closing . . . it all makes my skin crawl.
Honestly, for me, evidence of other people in the vicinity can be as bad as fingernails on a chalkboard. If not worse. I am not exaggerating.
Yet I'm strangely more comfortable in a crowd at Starbucks or the mall . . . I think I shall now go to such a place to finish my reading.
Sunday, August 31, 2003
Saturday, August 30, 2003
I just watched Daffy Duck attempt several times to murder his friend. Daffy was unsuccessful, which was fortunate for him as his friend later saved Daffy's life by killing himself. The doctor thought he might be able to save Daffy's friend until Daffy took his friend's brain, threw it on the floor, and began stamping on it.
This was on the new Duck Dodgers series featured as part of Cartoon Network's Saturday morning lineup.
I wonder why it is that I thought it perfectly good fun when Eric Cartman killed the parents of his enemy and fed the diced up pieces of them to his enemy, but this new Daffy Duck cartoon just leaves me feeling sickened? Perhaps it was that the victim was not Daffy's enemy. Perhaps it was that the cartoon seemed to feel there was nothing wrong with Daffy murdering this person, while the fun of the South Park episode was that it was so over-the-top wrong. In any case, the writers of Duck Dodgers are morons who do not appear to grasp the humour behind the violence in classic Looney Toons.
And how is it, you may ask, that this sort of thing can be shown on a children's show? Well, you see, Daffy's friend was a robot. So long as everyone you butcher is a machine--no matter how sentient he/she/it behaves, or how human he/she/it is shaped--it's perfectly kosher. This is a weird standard that's exploited to very good effect on Samurai Jack. I fear it's the morons on Duck Dodgers that'll ruin things for good shows like Samurai Jack.
...
I feel more tired to-day than I did yesterday. I did get some writing done, though. I wrote for two and a half hours at Trisa's Starbucks, continuing what looks to be a very, very long chapter 76.
This was on the new Duck Dodgers series featured as part of Cartoon Network's Saturday morning lineup.
I wonder why it is that I thought it perfectly good fun when Eric Cartman killed the parents of his enemy and fed the diced up pieces of them to his enemy, but this new Daffy Duck cartoon just leaves me feeling sickened? Perhaps it was that the victim was not Daffy's enemy. Perhaps it was that the cartoon seemed to feel there was nothing wrong with Daffy murdering this person, while the fun of the South Park episode was that it was so over-the-top wrong. In any case, the writers of Duck Dodgers are morons who do not appear to grasp the humour behind the violence in classic Looney Toons.
And how is it, you may ask, that this sort of thing can be shown on a children's show? Well, you see, Daffy's friend was a robot. So long as everyone you butcher is a machine--no matter how sentient he/she/it behaves, or how human he/she/it is shaped--it's perfectly kosher. This is a weird standard that's exploited to very good effect on Samurai Jack. I fear it's the morons on Duck Dodgers that'll ruin things for good shows like Samurai Jack.
...
I feel more tired to-day than I did yesterday. I did get some writing done, though. I wrote for two and a half hours at Trisa's Starbucks, continuing what looks to be a very, very long chapter 76.
Friday, August 29, 2003
I'm missing a few CDs. A few good ones . . . Tori Amos's Little Earthquakes, Elvis Costello's Blood and Chocolate . . .
I'm feeling tired to-day, now, and I haven't really done much of anything yet. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the drama. I wish people'd stop putting lemon juice on their own wounds.
Sometimes I wish the big space mamma that everyone seems to be waiting for would just fall down and crush us like ants.
I'm sounding vague, aren't I? Well, I'm hoping I can hit some people who evidently do not enjoy listening or comprehending. If you're struck, then you know who you are.
...
I feel . . . sluggish. Drinking some good, very good coffee at the moment.
I had an interesting day yesterday. I kinna went on tour; first to the mall to buy tim the new H.R. Giger calendar for Tim's birthday, then to Tim's, then to my mother's house, then to my biological father's house, then to Trisa's house, and then she and I went to Micheals, the Olive Garden, and finally to the Madstone to see El Mariachi, which we both enjoyed.
I'll feel better if I write to-day . . .
I'm feeling tired to-day, now, and I haven't really done much of anything yet. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the drama. I wish people'd stop putting lemon juice on their own wounds.
Sometimes I wish the big space mamma that everyone seems to be waiting for would just fall down and crush us like ants.
I'm sounding vague, aren't I? Well, I'm hoping I can hit some people who evidently do not enjoy listening or comprehending. If you're struck, then you know who you are.
...
I feel . . . sluggish. Drinking some good, very good coffee at the moment.
I had an interesting day yesterday. I kinna went on tour; first to the mall to buy tim the new H.R. Giger calendar for Tim's birthday, then to Tim's, then to my mother's house, then to my biological father's house, then to Trisa's house, and then she and I went to Micheals, the Olive Garden, and finally to the Madstone to see El Mariachi, which we both enjoyed.
I'll feel better if I write to-day . . .
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Hm. Almost woke up too late.
To-day's Tim's birthday, as he informed me last night. I'm gonna need to go out and purchase something for the fellow now, but what? This is one of those tasks that can turn out to be mega-time consuming and I hope that's not the case to-day. I feel like I've had hardly any time over the past several days . . . The only real writing I've gotten done was one three hour spurt at Trisa's Starbucks. And while that went well, it was well below my pace of previous weeks.
There are a lot of things I would like to do right now. I'd like to work on my novel. I'd like to write a short story. I'd like to post comments on Caitlin Kiernan's message board. I'd like to hang out with Trisa. I's like to investigate mysteries. I'd like to see what's crawled up Cryptess's ass. I'd like to do a new page of Doll Merchant.
But what I am gonna do is get dressed . . . get out of here . . . and go shopping.
I hate Thursdays.
To-day's Tim's birthday, as he informed me last night. I'm gonna need to go out and purchase something for the fellow now, but what? This is one of those tasks that can turn out to be mega-time consuming and I hope that's not the case to-day. I feel like I've had hardly any time over the past several days . . . The only real writing I've gotten done was one three hour spurt at Trisa's Starbucks. And while that went well, it was well below my pace of previous weeks.
There are a lot of things I would like to do right now. I'd like to work on my novel. I'd like to write a short story. I'd like to post comments on Caitlin Kiernan's message board. I'd like to hang out with Trisa. I's like to investigate mysteries. I'd like to see what's crawled up Cryptess's ass. I'd like to do a new page of Doll Merchant.
But what I am gonna do is get dressed . . . get out of here . . . and go shopping.
I hate Thursdays.
I was rather tired all day Wednesday, and now it's nearly 2am Thursday and suddenly I can't sleep. Had trouble sleeping Tuesday night as well. My mind is occupied.
Gods . . . I hate people.
Started class this week. My two main, real classes are Japanese II and British Lit I. Very different subjects, yes? Guess what they have in common.
First time attending both classes, the teachers wanted every student in the class to introduce themselves to someone else in the class, interview them, and be interviewed in turn. To "make a new friend". To make me fucking puke, more like.
Just what the fuck is this obnoxious forced ritual? I don't ask the "point" because I sense the point in much the same way I smell a pile of shit--that by forming human connexions with our classmates we're less likely to drop the class and we're more likely to "get involved" with the class subject matter in our social animal group mentality . . . thing.
Well guess what? It doesn't help me one bit because all these people fucking suck and I don't wanna be involved with them. Not one jot, iota, tittle, etcetera. Don't believe it's that bad, eh? Think ol' Setsuled is a crabby, anti-social lich or something? Let's take, then, for example the fellow I interviewed for Brit Lit.
He gave me a bunch of boring details--the most important one here is when I asked what his favourite music is, he replied that it was Worship Music. Worship Music. Do you, reader, know what that is? Hmm? In short, it is the sound of mediocrity. To elaborate, it's Christian rock, featuring songs about how The Lord is The One and is Great and All Wonderful and . . .
Well, you get the idea. I mean, I love a lot of art featuring Christian related themes and even characters (despite the fact that if I find that the Christian god is not dead, I certainly intend to kill him) but Worship Music is something else altogether. It's arrogant, it's ignorant, and . . . well, I'm digressing.
The point is . . . why all the people, people? Why you need all these? Is being alone really that tough for you alls, so tough that you need several friends lined up for when some are unaccessible?
Gods . . . I hate people.
Started class this week. My two main, real classes are Japanese II and British Lit I. Very different subjects, yes? Guess what they have in common.
First time attending both classes, the teachers wanted every student in the class to introduce themselves to someone else in the class, interview them, and be interviewed in turn. To "make a new friend". To make me fucking puke, more like.
Just what the fuck is this obnoxious forced ritual? I don't ask the "point" because I sense the point in much the same way I smell a pile of shit--that by forming human connexions with our classmates we're less likely to drop the class and we're more likely to "get involved" with the class subject matter in our social animal group mentality . . . thing.
Well guess what? It doesn't help me one bit because all these people fucking suck and I don't wanna be involved with them. Not one jot, iota, tittle, etcetera. Don't believe it's that bad, eh? Think ol' Setsuled is a crabby, anti-social lich or something? Let's take, then, for example the fellow I interviewed for Brit Lit.
He gave me a bunch of boring details--the most important one here is when I asked what his favourite music is, he replied that it was Worship Music. Worship Music. Do you, reader, know what that is? Hmm? In short, it is the sound of mediocrity. To elaborate, it's Christian rock, featuring songs about how The Lord is The One and is Great and All Wonderful and . . .
Well, you get the idea. I mean, I love a lot of art featuring Christian related themes and even characters (despite the fact that if I find that the Christian god is not dead, I certainly intend to kill him) but Worship Music is something else altogether. It's arrogant, it's ignorant, and . . . well, I'm digressing.
The point is . . . why all the people, people? Why you need all these? Is being alone really that tough for you alls, so tough that you need several friends lined up for when some are unaccessible?
Monday, August 25, 2003
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Two days of no productivity now, but I'm thinking that's okay since school starts on Monday and Trisa and I have just made up. Flimsy excuses, I know, but still . . .
Last night, she and I saw The Secret Lives of Dentists, which was really a lot of fun. Best use of the stomach flu that I've ever seen in a movie, and the whole thing worked rather well, even if it could've done without the Dennis Leary character.
There are cookies all over this room . . .
Well, so, not much else I wanna say at the moment. Ja ne.
Last night, she and I saw The Secret Lives of Dentists, which was really a lot of fun. Best use of the stomach flu that I've ever seen in a movie, and the whole thing worked rather well, even if it could've done without the Dennis Leary character.
There are cookies all over this room . . .
Well, so, not much else I wanna say at the moment. Ja ne.
Saturday, August 23, 2003
Listening to samples from David Bowie's new album due out next month. So far I like it better than Heathen, and I loved Heathen.
Apparently, according to my memories of yesterday, Trisa and I are speaking and hanging out again. So yay-ness. We watched The Misfits (and enjoyed it), I tried to seduce her (didn't work), and we ate food at various places. Good fun, and I fulfilled my goal yesterday of screwing around.
Monday class starts, which I am looking forward to. Hope I don't fuck up or anything.
I still have one class to pay for, so I think I'll go and see if the college cashier is open on Saturdays.
Apparently, according to my memories of yesterday, Trisa and I are speaking and hanging out again. So yay-ness. We watched The Misfits (and enjoyed it), I tried to seduce her (didn't work), and we ate food at various places. Good fun, and I fulfilled my goal yesterday of screwing around.
Monday class starts, which I am looking forward to. Hope I don't fuck up or anything.
I still have one class to pay for, so I think I'll go and see if the college cashier is open on Saturdays.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Beat Castlevania: Symphony of the Night last night, which makes me pretty kick ass, I know. It got a lot easier once I found out that the Alucard Shield (not, mind you, the Alucard from Hellsing) could kill anyone really quickly while similtaneously healing me.
This was at Tim's house, of course. After we watched and made fun of the end game cut scene and credits, we went to his living room to watch The Daily Show, during which I became aware of what sounded like a small child sobbing in the next room.
I glanced at Tim questioningly as I knew that there had not been any small children in his house for maybe five years.
"Hear that?" grinned Tim. "That's Charlie."
I thought this was some kind of joke at first . . . Charlie is the name of one of Tim's cats. But I could see that he was serious.
"He only does it when he thinks he's alone," said Tim.
"That's really weird," said I. The sounds were so like human speech that I could swear that I could almost discern specific english words . . . almost. It was very like hearing someone speak in a foreign language similer to english, like french or spanish. Your mind automatically starts sorting the sounds into recognisable words. Very weird.
...
I think I'll devote to-day to screwing around. I've been given the titles of lazy bum, moocher, and lay-about. It's time I started earning them.
This was at Tim's house, of course. After we watched and made fun of the end game cut scene and credits, we went to his living room to watch The Daily Show, during which I became aware of what sounded like a small child sobbing in the next room.
I glanced at Tim questioningly as I knew that there had not been any small children in his house for maybe five years.
"Hear that?" grinned Tim. "That's Charlie."
I thought this was some kind of joke at first . . . Charlie is the name of one of Tim's cats. But I could see that he was serious.
"He only does it when he thinks he's alone," said Tim.
"That's really weird," said I. The sounds were so like human speech that I could swear that I could almost discern specific english words . . . almost. It was very like hearing someone speak in a foreign language similer to english, like french or spanish. Your mind automatically starts sorting the sounds into recognisable words. Very weird.
...
I think I'll devote to-day to screwing around. I've been given the titles of lazy bum, moocher, and lay-about. It's time I started earning them.
Thursday, August 21, 2003
Didn't sleep really at all last night because it was really very hot. The fan was on high but seemed to exist on another plane of reality, visible from this one, but not tangible.
I don't remember much of yesterday except I wrote a very crucial chapter of my novel and I watched Blade Runner and Farscape.
I think I'll go to North County Fair now as this definately feels like a day for getting away from it all.
So long, it all.
I don't remember much of yesterday except I wrote a very crucial chapter of my novel and I watched Blade Runner and Farscape.
I think I'll go to North County Fair now as this definately feels like a day for getting away from it all.
So long, it all.
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
On the freeway last night there was a car stopped in the second lane from the left with a girl standing on top screaming incoherently. A young shaven headed fellow was trying to talk her down--to me, it looked like perhaps he was the driver, and in the midst of a traffic jam, his drunken female passenger climbed onto the roof, forcing him to stop the car.
Now, as I watched a police car pull up to them with flashing lights, threading carefully through the traffic that was now slow-moving only because of this disruption, I knew someone was in trouble but I wasn't sure who and how. The guy can hardly be blamed for stopping the car when the girl was on the roof. I guess the girl would get busted for drunken, disorderly conduct but that kinna sucks. I mean, if she's so hammered that she's climbing on top of a moving car in the middle of the freeway, should she really be blamed for her actions? I guess they actually put a lot of people in danger, so I guess someone has to pay . . .
I wrote lots yesterday. For three hours at a Starbucks in Clairemont by the Japanese mall, then for another two hours at Horton Plaza. I have been all too energetic lately . . . All in all, yesterday was very, very, very good.
Now, as I watched a police car pull up to them with flashing lights, threading carefully through the traffic that was now slow-moving only because of this disruption, I knew someone was in trouble but I wasn't sure who and how. The guy can hardly be blamed for stopping the car when the girl was on the roof. I guess the girl would get busted for drunken, disorderly conduct but that kinna sucks. I mean, if she's so hammered that she's climbing on top of a moving car in the middle of the freeway, should she really be blamed for her actions? I guess they actually put a lot of people in danger, so I guess someone has to pay . . .
I wrote lots yesterday. For three hours at a Starbucks in Clairemont by the Japanese mall, then for another two hours at Horton Plaza. I have been all too energetic lately . . . All in all, yesterday was very, very, very good.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
I think I took this too seriously . . .
Children
Circle I Limbo
Hipsters
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy Wind
Ants
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & Snow
Emotional opportunists
Circle IV Rolling Weights
Thomas Kinkade
Circle V Stuck in Mud, Mangled
River Styx
blackmailers
Circle VI Buried for Eternity
River Phlegyas
Religious zealots
Circle VII Burning Sands
Mercenary friends
Circle IIX Immersed in Excrement
rapists
Circle IX Frozen in Ice
Things sure went well yesterday. Got a Thea Gilmore CD in the mail, which got me terribly, irrationally excited. There's an artist I'd been wanting to check out for a very long time. I also got an unexpected extra one hundred dollars . . . I think I'll sign up for another college class. Maybe then certain family members will get the hell off my back about not having a job (oh, I'm such an archetype!)(yes, I know I can think of worse names for me. I've been called by them several times in the past couple weeks).
Now I'm gonna go out and eat because there are children here. I feel good about to-day.
Now I'm gonna go out and eat because there are children here. I feel good about to-day.
Monday, August 18, 2003
Thought about blood a lot yesterday. First as a plan to get rid of the ants in the kitchen--I thought, "I wonder how they'd react if they were all drowned in blood?" The little fellas must've heard my thoughts because they blessedly disappeared that very night.
Mine's really not a disturbed mind, by the way.
Then I thought of blood at Tim's house while playing Castlevania: Symphony of the Night which is, by far, the best Castlvania game and I heartily recommend it, if you can somehow get your hands on it. It is extremely hard to come by. Tim had to get his copy off some thing similer to ebay. And even then there was only one copy.
Anyway, I was playing it, and I picked up the Blood Cloak in a room filled with bloody chopped up people parts. And I started thinking about how much I badly wanted tomato sauce, right away. So strong was the desire that I left Tim's forthwith and came here to make a pizza, on which I verily poured copious amounts of that vivid red fluid. Yum!
...
The computer's been running horribly slow lately and I don't know why. It's really starting to piss me off. I left it defragmenting all night, but that didn't seem to work. I honestly don't know what's slowing it down . . . if anyone has any ideas, I'll thank you powerfully if you e-mail 'em to me.
Mine's really not a disturbed mind, by the way.
Then I thought of blood at Tim's house while playing Castlevania: Symphony of the Night which is, by far, the best Castlvania game and I heartily recommend it, if you can somehow get your hands on it. It is extremely hard to come by. Tim had to get his copy off some thing similer to ebay. And even then there was only one copy.
Anyway, I was playing it, and I picked up the Blood Cloak in a room filled with bloody chopped up people parts. And I started thinking about how much I badly wanted tomato sauce, right away. So strong was the desire that I left Tim's forthwith and came here to make a pizza, on which I verily poured copious amounts of that vivid red fluid. Yum!
...
The computer's been running horribly slow lately and I don't know why. It's really starting to piss me off. I left it defragmenting all night, but that didn't seem to work. I honestly don't know what's slowing it down . . . if anyone has any ideas, I'll thank you powerfully if you e-mail 'em to me.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
Just did a new page of Doll Merchant while listening to Philip Glass. And now both myself and three cats needs to be fed, so I'm gonna go and take care of us all.
It's too bad the kitchen's become again a place of hellfire stress, what with the return of the ant pestilence. Oh, damn you ants. I guess I'll eat out . . .
It's too bad the kitchen's become again a place of hellfire stress, what with the return of the ant pestilence. Oh, damn you ants. I guess I'll eat out . . .
Saturday, August 16, 2003
I have too many ideas about what I'm to do to-day. So I'm kinna paralyzed contemplating the possibilities.
Typed lots and lots yesterday after I finally finished sorting through my stuff. I've neatly put all the stuff I wants to be rid of in one box. Looks generally to be Star Wars and Anne Rice books . . . I guess I'll try to sell 'em at used bookstores or something.
Watched Gangs of New York last night. Fentastic movie. I'd only seen it once in the cinema, but it was a good viewing as it was in the quiet and respectful atmosphere of the Madstone.
I feel just blah to-day. And a little queasy. I'm discusted at life or something, I dunno.
Typed lots and lots yesterday after I finally finished sorting through my stuff. I've neatly put all the stuff I wants to be rid of in one box. Looks generally to be Star Wars and Anne Rice books . . . I guess I'll try to sell 'em at used bookstores or something.
Watched Gangs of New York last night. Fentastic movie. I'd only seen it once in the cinema, but it was a good viewing as it was in the quiet and respectful atmosphere of the Madstone.
I feel just blah to-day. And a little queasy. I'm discusted at life or something, I dunno.
Friday, August 15, 2003
According to Lifetime's test, I will gain twenty nine thousand, eight hundred twenty five point seven pounds in fourty thousand years. It seems the trials of immortality are somewhat different from what Anne Rice would have us believe.