| i do not believe that anybody actually reads my journal... |
[12 Nov 2004|07:52pm] |
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but the emotional damage it causes far outweighs any benefits you get from the experience. the better something is, the more it hurts when it slips away. good things can only hurt you. at least bad things let you know where you stand.
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| oral sex is for losers |
[12 Nov 2004|05:12pm] |
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i watched battle royal and day of the dead this morning. it started at two and finished up about five. i wasn't tired, so i rooted through my mom's old videos trying to find some shit. then i cam across a hardcore porn tape i thought i'd lost.
this could have been a fucking tragedy. if mom or someone had found that fucking tape... it would have been so fucking embarassing. it's bad enough she knows i have a penis, when she figures out that i fucking use it, i'm gonna have to slam my hand in a fucking car door or something. chop my head off with some scissors or something. so fucking embarassing.
yeah, the calamity was avoided. i've now lost that tape four times. fucker tries to get away from me. my sisters already seen it (don't fucking ask) so when i lost it in her room it wasn't as bad, except she thought i'd been watching it in her room, which i fucking hadn't, becasue her tv is shitty and small. fuck that noise. but it's like it has a mind of it's own. i'd set it on fire... but i'm scared it would come back to life and kill me. no, i must bury it, bury it deeper than any man has ever been before, bury it in molten rock and rage or whatever. i'm all out of poetry, since i slept for about twelve fucking hours. i was in bed til just fucking now i am not fucking kidding. i'm a goddamn alcoholic loser. i hope i die in a car crash.
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| bent cop blues (and i hated yr face girl, but i'm so pleased i fucked you) |
[11 Nov 2004|09:31pm] |
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shit seems desperate to invalidate my dreams...
i want to talk to kent again. i talked to him last night, he was a really exciting and interesting individual. his musics pretty good too, but it's his fucking ideas that really ring out fr me. i'm glad someone else exists to share my view on music and drugs. it feels sort of neat.
i wish claire was online, though. she's prettiful - in a wierd sort of a way. wierd for me to think it, i mean. it's a widely acknowledged fact that i would fuck anyone, but she's a little way away from my usual sort. maybe it's because she's such a 1337 poet? who knows. i fucking don't.
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| alright, FUCK this job |
[11 Nov 2004|07:08am] |
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i'm a worthless drug addict and i desereve to die. this morning i was positive that i was gonna wake up and everyone else was gonna have disappeared. everyone in the world. so i'm nervous as fuck and i wake my mom up at six to make sure she hasn't died. then i have about fifty cups of tea, smoke a million cigarrettes, and cry all the time she's at work. she comes back, i act fine - i have a new scar below my fucking elbow (big fucking deal) which my tee shirt sleeves don't cover, so i have to put on a jumper, and my only clean one is my eminem top. so i'm wearing a fucking eminem top and i just know everyone will think i'm a fucking queer. fuck that shit. normal people don't fucking feel this way. i'm really fucked. i really need to quit taking drugs.
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| what have i become? |
[11 Nov 2004|02:59am] |
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mood |
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i was a sweet kid |
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music |
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you let me penetrate you |
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time ago shit figured out in black and white. now it's this hazy grey like tv static. all i hear is feedback, and all i see are lights so bright they hurt my fucking eyes. being dead would be exquisitely boring - it's better to feel this way than feel nothing at all, right?
today, i told this poor bastard that i threw all his chances away, i killed his friends, i fucked him into a corner and watched him bleed and did nothing. sadness tumbled out the exit wounds, the fucking rape... like all yr heroes, i just did nothing...
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| i could have loved you |
[10 Nov 2004|10:16pm] |
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music |
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dear, i'll stay gold |
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when shit went wrong, this gulf transpiring to overtake me and show me shadow places free of guilt but not beyond this needless sufferings, i looked her square in the eye. sand obscured our love, but i knew... i knew from her mouth and her trembling knees. i knew from the sight of our friday nights in her eyes, moments collapsing like silence had split support beams and let our skies crash down by liquid beasts. minoutaurs caught our sundown - i fucking knew.
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| we did this to ourselves |
[10 Nov 2004|01:48pm] |
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mood |
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out of sight |
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music |
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funeral for a friend |
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gemma: what do you want to do when you are older?
john: uh... fuck you, why?
gemma: just curious, dear.
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| home song |
[10 Nov 2004|08:22am] |
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music |
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venetian snares |
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some days it seems ridiculous to feel like this when there are so many good ways not to. that's why i hit dirt and pray loud and on fire. this fucking sucks.
one day we will get what we want...
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| you know how i do |
[09 Nov 2004|10:14pm] |
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mood |
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devestated |
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music |
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lucine - askew |
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i watch her red and deadly sift through fingers, bones awake for me to break into urban swells of needless decay, necessity painted on sunrise for reasons i am forced to dream. these days suburbia feigns daydreams to keep me quiet, jacked off and hacked in to worlds away from dogsville, fruit split aimless to deny my eternity to trees stretching to blank horizons behind mountains and minutes of her time. i almost wish that i didn’t exist, colours radiating cold in the empty fields we terrorised as children, barbed wire tumbleweed flooring rainbows so the skies weep gold these nights, eternity bored enough to stab fractions of sand into halo designs changing our heads and catching on fire. when i told you i would burn, you did not think that i meant it, did you? shit, I hope I take yr heart with me, away from the neon casino plight, the caisson debacle breeding free rabbit holes in the middle of my moors. I hope I take it all, to some cold, dark place, away from eternity, but not beyond forever. some cold, cold place…
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| designed by silence |
[09 Nov 2004|05:10am] |
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music |
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every part of me is broken beyond repair |
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unemployment rocks – i could do this forever! sadly, it has to come to an end. if i’m ever gonna get a place and, more immediately, fix my fucking computer, i’m gonna need money. which begs the question – what the fuck can an under-qualified, pessimistic and lazy bastard of a motherfucker do for a living? answer: work at argos. it’s walking distance, which is cool, even though there is a one hundred percent chance that i’m gonna get the shit kicked out of me at least once. but if i buy a car (which i won’t, but i have to think positive or i’ll stick my head in an oven) i’ll be driving to work and listening to cursive while i do it, so that’s cool.
i notice more and more lately that, when i think about the future, there are only a few people that share the world with me. and, even weirder, my future isn’t that far away. tomorrow is the future, you know? by the time I’ve finished writing this, it will be the future, and when i look back to make sure i haven’t made any mistakes, that will be the past. i’ll be looking at my goddamn past, you know?
i wonder if i’m even gonna have that much of a future. i have a lot of growing up to do, that’s for sure. like, if my mother kicked me out tonight, i could not survive. there’s a lot of shit that i need to rectify first, i need to teach myself to sleep normal hours, as opposed to these despicably anti-social periods of no sleep at all and then fifteen hours sleep a day, and i need to quit being angry at everyone long enough to make some new friends, since the current social scene is growing stale, and i need to quit feeling sorry for myself long enough to get some fucking direction in life, and i need to get my shit together for long enough to make a decision. it might help me somewhat if i quit the fucking drugs, or seriously cut down, especially on alcohol. but yeah, if i make it into the future, it will be this weird future consisting of me, bridgette danaher, a malformed dog call ‘justice’, and a handful of people i like enough to let in to my dream world. i may even invite some internet personalities with me, who knows?
ha… i hope everyone i hate dies. this world would be ace without the people, you know? without people shit would figure just fucking right, i’m sure of it.
anyway, i’m as awake as shit since i slept all day yesterday. i grow unwantedly vespertine these days – it’s almost fun. i keep thinking brittany is going to be online, since she’s eight hours behind me, or something like that, and when it’s six in the morning here it is only ten at night there, so that’s aces. unfortunately, she’s never around. i want to ask her what she thinks of my list. she’s so good at music. if she doesn’t know a band, it’s because a) they’ve only just started and have put out ONE demo that hasn’t made it out of wolverhapton or b) they don’t actually exist. since it’s pretty silly making up band names just to catch her out, and even sillier to ask her if she likes yr friends band when they’ve only ever played one gig… at a pub… YESTERDAY… we have to assume she’s knows everything relevant. (i just spelt that revelant. revelant should be a word, like revel or reviled. i’ll bet it is) one day I’m gonna fly to america, fuck claire’s boyfriend’s adopted chinese sister, kiss brittany (sorry, you don’t have a choice) find the guy who wrote friends and punch him, find the guy who writes Ed and shake his hand, take lots of photo, make lots of friends, and then set off loads of smoke bombs on the plane back. that’d rock.
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| juice nuclear |
[09 Nov 2004|02:32am] |
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i was bored, so i decided to scare up a list of my ten favourite bands on the deep elm record label. i don’t know why i chose deep elm, maybe because it’s a small record label and consequently i’d have an easier time differentiating between the good and the not so good. like… i don’t think i could do this for warp – i mean, i could get my ten favourite warp artist, and i could say for definite who was my favourite, but i couldn’t really differentiate between the remaining nine enough to put them in order. and if we we’re gonna talk about a label like road runner or earache i just couldn’t fucking do it. but luckily there are some incredibly special bands on deep elm, and they are varied enough for me to comfortably separate, so yeah.
anyway, it’d be aces if you could prove me wrong here, wake me up to some bands i’ve been missing, or whatever. and some of the bands here i’ve only heard about half of their stuff, so i’m pretty much counting on you to let me know the other half sucks before i go out and buy it. okay, here we go.
10) surrounded. i am the only one of my friends that likes this band. i don’t know why, since safety in numbers is an ace album. of course, they aren’t as commercially viable as other bands on this label, but they are still pretty spectacular.
9) desert city soundtrack. i’ve only really known about this band for a month, after an internet friend pointed me in the direction of some downloads, but these guys are really good. contents of distraction is a bastard of an ep, really fucking good. you should buy it.
8) sounds like violence. okay, here’s the thing – if sounds like violence release an album as good as the pistol ep is, they’ll move to like second in this list. you give me heart attacks is one of the best songs i have ever heard ever. i fucking adore this band.
7) brandtson. brandtson aren’t precisely spectacular, but if we’re talking about the sheer number of songs, these guys deserve mention. it’s definitely worth yr while to seek out at least one of their albums (i recommend ‘fallen star collection’, but if you prefer it angrier ‘trying to figure each other out’ is the release you need) and definitely, definitely, buy ‘dead animals’ if you get a chance. that is a good song.
6) seven storey. get dividing by zero and you’ll be mad at me for not putting this band in the top five. fast, raw, emotional – one of the first deep elm bands i liked. these guys rule.
5) last days of april. incredible swedish angst right here. i love the piano’s and the harmonies. the gentlest band on deep elm, i think (although i could be wrong, that’s why i need yr help) these guys are just ace.
4) red animal war. every one of their albums is worth owning… and one day i’ll get round to doing it. lol. some of their shits fast, some of it’s slow, some of it’s sad, some of it’s happy. they do anger and introspection (sometimes on the same song) and just rule absolutely.
3) planes mistaken for stars. one of the coolest bands on planet earth, these guys are screaming, screeching noise at it’s finest. they write abrasive and gut churning songs that are finished in minutes. oh, and one of their songs features words by rush limbaud. awesome.
2) slowride. if i was gonna play a deep elm record to my mother, this would be it. this is the closest to pop punk a deep elm band gets. like, if sum 41 learned to play their instruments and stopped only caring about money, they’re next song might be worthy of a slowride b-side. they have album titles like ‘building a building’ and ‘as i survive the suicide bomber’ and are just completely ace. buy this. play it at yr next party.
1) camber. a friend of mine, who had never heard of post-hardcore, asked me to define it. i lent him ‘wake up and be happy’. what can i say about camber? only rival schools do it better. if you don’t like camber then you don’t like post-hardcore. simple.
talk to me, dudes… i need to know i’m not wrong about this…
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| ain't it the truth |
[08 Nov 2004|07:54pm] |
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music |
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still alexis on fire. i fucking like this band. |
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AnOhioThrenody: my buddy list is fucked. i can't tell whether yr here or not.
Auto response from Clarie Green: At the dentist. He and I have a very intimate relationship.
AnOhioThrenody: ah, thought so.
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| you showed me the truth, yeah, and if it wasn't for this distance then i could have loved you |
[08 Nov 2004|08:38am] |
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mood |
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i could have loved you... |
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music |
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.44 caliber love letter - alexisonfire |
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i spent most of this morning drifting in and out of consciousness on my couch. i missed most of lord of the rings, so i watched it again - good fucking movie. that fight scene is so fucking ace. like usual, i cried when (theolin?) the king of rohan talked about burying his son. i am so fucking emo. oh, today i took this picture. i may turn it into an icon.
silence tears my heart from open spaces, so i am left wondering what the hell happened to me. it's like... if i leave myself open to attack, i deserve to be attacked, right? nonsense, sadly, guides my soul to mountainsides, open mouths and clenched fists and devestated entropy. my blast poetry sliding along slight hardened hair breadth, her breathe, adressing my skin to remind me there are other sensations, if i'm just willing to feel them...
i wish i could remember a time when i wasn't so completely fucking miserable. everyday i apply science to this to try and feel better, but it never works... my soul has been murdered by skyscraper might, chess-board logic. i'm gonna make all my real-life friends get live journals just so people think i am popular.
oh, and brittany - thanks for making me type everything in small case all the time. thanks to you, capitol letters look ugly and abusive.
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| how did we ever sink this far? |
[08 Nov 2004|02:18am] |
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mood |
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i'm tired of being tired |
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music |
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Acrid Avid Jame Shred - Aphex Twin |
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suicide picnics drift past me, wrapped in barbed wire. is it any wonder i can’t sleep with all this catastrophic nonsense tearing through our world?
because, like, i used to at least believe that it was gonna get better. like i figured shit would drift away the minute i got power, like i’d finally get over it all and be this righteous human being all clean and fresh and beautiful. people would watch me walking, and they’d know i was headed somewhere, they’d know i was set to captivate hearts and rescue kids from the window ledge. everything would be safe and i’d have nothing to worry about. i’d be jesus, captain scarlet, which ever hero you wanna mention. people would love me and they would never go away because i would be something worth staying alive for.
but now all i have is dreams. the good dreams barely outnumber the bad dreams. i think they are growing proportionately closer. i think before too long all i will have is nightmares, and i know i will not be able to stay alive if i do…
i dream of christmas in virginia, something which is never gonna happen now. sure, i could still fly over to see claire, but i don’t think i’m ever gonna. i have this sinking feeling we aren’t both going to live long enough to orchestrate whatever the fuck we were gonna do. it was steven’s idea anyway, i’m just some little faggot bastard that got roped in to going, and then got torn the fuck apart when things fell away. knowing my luck, shit will probably figure that it was steve she wanted over there, he had to reason with her “oh, i promise he won’t be his emofag self my sweet.” he’s a conciliatory bastard, that’s exactly what he’d do. besides, she has a boyfriend now – by the time i’m old enough to get over there she’ll be happy and have everything and i’ll just be this emotional leech draining every body. nobody deserves that.
i dream about pretty girls in pretty places, long walls separating beeches from trees, an ocean loud enough to drown us from a distance, a sun hot enough to burn the clothes from my skin and leave me naked and happy and not wondering what the hell i did to deserve this. but it’s money and it’s motivation and it’s all that, all the shit i don’t have. nowadays it takes me hours to get inspiration enough to get out of bed. i’ve hit this point where i’m clutching at reasons to be here – my writing, which is never gonna get me anywhere, my friends, who don’t really seem to exist anymore, my dreams… my dreams which are never, ever gonna work out. all i have to show for twenty years of concentrated effort are memories that no one would ever trade me for. i’m never gonna make it to university, i’m never gonna get a good job, i’m never gonna do any of the things i promised people that i was gonna do. i was like “i’ll show you.” i really felt like i would show every last one of those motherfuckers that i had a place in this world. but what? i’m exactly the kind of fuck i used to hate, i drip self-pity like sweat, i don’t eat, i sleep for about fifteen hours a day. sleep? i get in bed and i close my eyes but i rarely ever sleep when it’s dark and my eyes are closed and it’s quiet since there is nothing to distract me from these feelings, feelings like my guts are getting ripped out and replaced with liquid nitrogen, the sensation of acceleration so that even when i’m stood still i can feel myself falling, feelings that something is gonna come along any minute and rip what little world i have left into shreds. i don’t fucking sleep. i try and explain it to mum, but she can’t really understand. it breaks my heart to see her try and understand me. it breaks my heart to see a lot of things, but this… this is just a little bit more devastating than anything else.
i want out of this darkness for just one day. just give me one day where i can actually think clearly long enough to make up my mind, to fill in application forms for jobs and send things to university and to publishers. for just one day i’d like to have the ability to reason myself out of this, or at least the guts to ask for help. but i’m tired. i’m tired of waking up to this world. i’m tired of living with these feelings. if that day came along, a day i had my sense of reasoning, a day i had motivation enough to do something, i would probably just get a good nights sleep. nothing good is ever gonna come of any effort i make, so why bother making it?
*sigh* i’m gonna try and sleep now. i don’t know how that is gonna turn out, but i’ll let you know. i’ll let you know…
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serefinrejected's journal
morose
