little by little
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Thursday, July 24, 2003
last night i dreamed. i was walking along the wheelock place junction facing shaw, and there was where we met. you, hand in hand with your fiance; i, (naked)hand in hand with the you i knew from before. my heart fell through the tile my feet were on, but i managed the appropriate smile and looked from him to you, and back to him again (the dream was in first-person view). you seemed startled, defenceless; so naturally unprepared that you were almost beautiful for a moment. before that civil smile bulwarked you from me. people say you can only see, and not smell or feel in dreams, but i caught a tease of your shampoo scent, and i felt lachrymose surging through my throat, as the pride reacted with the pain to cause the exothermic flush on my face. so i lowered my head and hurried past the two of you, on your side of the road, for whatever reason i don't wish to realise. it was almost like a movie, the way the next scene jumped into the entrance of your fiance's house, where i was laughably threatening to maim him if he abused you. i grabbed him by the cuff and drew his face to mine, staring and breathing hard at each other, as i growled at him to take good care of you. he merely nodded. and i woke up, with tears in my ears (the tv lies, when your body is supine the tears always flow down into your ears) and two flanking pools of salt-crested patches on my pillow, and i couldn't go back to sleep. laughing at and crying to myself, i couldn't go back to sleep.
Monday, July 21, 2003
ever wondered what secrets i clasp between my sandman notebook? well, here's an excerpt. a quote.
"Is that the consequence of leaving your body to science? Of assuming that another pill, another drug, another car, another pocket-sized home movie-station, a DNA transfer, or the complete freedom of choice that five hundred TV channels must bring, will make everything all right? Will soothe the nagging pain in the heart that the latest laser scan refuses to diagnose? The doctor's surgery is full of men and women who do not know why they are unhappy.
'Take this,' says the Doctor, 'you'll soon feel better.' They do feel better, because little by little, they cease to feel at all." -Jeanette Winterson "Art & Lies"
Thursday, July 17, 2003
You're the sad smile,the one that regrets nearly
everything and is constantly wondering about
what could have been.You're not happy with your
situation and usually blame yourself because of
the bad things that have happened.Cheer up.
What Kind of Smile are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
-you feel severed from society when:
you understand every word in the recent "Speak Good English" campaign ad, only to find out in horror that you weren't supposed to.
-you feel old when:
everyone aound you is into rock and punk, while you sink deeper into 'bergen wave'-induced melancholy. just remember: quiet is the new loud.
-you feel maladjusted when: everyone either stares or ignores you inappropriately, while you try to tread past their lives quietly, without even leaving a breath.
-you know you shouldn't write at night because: "the efficiency of the sun and the/law/bulwarks sanity." (Charles Bukowski from Love Is A Dog From Hell) so you shouldn't write at night.
Friday, July 04, 2003
i'm fucked for the block test. did i tell you i'm fucked for the block test? anyway, i still have an international history paper. did i tell you i'm fucked for the block test? insomnia befalls one at all the wrong times, especially the times one lies on bed. currently feeling really empty, watching crayon shinchan to pass my days, got no nice books to read, wonder how jeanette winterson wrote gut symmetries. maybe i should return to my dust-ied copy of The Idiot (no jokes now.) but fyodor dostoevsky is already the shortest name in a plot bursting with characters in an attempt to map the russian psyche, and every possible trait combination within people. so what do i do now? did i tell you i'm fucked for the block test? oh yeah i did didn't i. i still have herman hesse, zadie smith and gao xinjian to contend with in my ever-expanding library of unread/unfinished books. but i think i'll go re-watch crayon shinchan again.
