things that are a little bit bullshit.

- hungry beast

talking to

a boy who's sharing a joint with rob schnieder.
this is my first time playing in australia, he says.
he's all scratchy-voiced nice-venue good-beer and
solo on the gee-tar.

please and thankyou.

il semble que

i have planned my life up until i leave with no room for alterations. it's ultimate procrastination. months and months of it. i'm putting off getting into anything serious, putting off getting a real job, putting off reading my ever-growing list of books, putting off writing my zine or editing my short story or making confrontations or fixing things with people or breaking things to fix them later. because it's exams then france then Serious Year of Study then sitmyexams decidemyfuture and from there, i don't know. but i'm putting off committing to anything and everything until that point.

playlistfun

stephanie says - the velvet underground
judy is a punk - the ramones
spanish bombs - the clash
god save the queen - sex pistols
where did you sleep last night? - nirvana
TKO - le tigre
rock'n'roll high school - the ramones
bob - nofx
lisa says - the velvet underground
main offender - the hives
los angeles is burning - bad religion

dalilove

halloween

contemplating costumes.

list so far looks comme ca:

alice in wonderland

little red riding hood

karen o

jane from daria

alex delarge

playing dressups is lovely. i think it should be done more often.

the cutups

sideways poor photography. but still. you get the idea.

good morning.

two.

that's all for today, mr antichrist

"None of this fits together? How very true! A woman you leave behind to go to the movies, an old man to whom you have stopped listening, a death that redeems nothing, and then, on the other hand, the whole radiance of the world. What difference does it make if you accept everything? Here are three destinies, different and yet alike. Death for us all, but his own death to each. After all, the sun still warms our bones for us."

fluxus

sufjan stevens in a literature class

kurtz, there is no line.

‘I think [the wilderness] has whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude – and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core...’

‘There was nothing exactly profitable in these heads being there. They only showed that Mr Kurtz lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts, that there was something wanting in him – some small matter which, when the pressing need arose, would not be found under his magnificent eloquence’

there is a conflict in the human heart between rational and irrational, between good and evil, and good does not always triumph.

photo

very nicely

drunk.
the recorder lady and her boyfriend with the 1990 computer are asleep legs splayed mouths open.

"heels?" he asks, "you're making an effort"
i tell him i'm not.
blisters rub at my heels. we both know i'm lying.
it's ok. it's the game we play.
we'll never/always be mediocre.

write life only slightly out of proportion.
no need to distinguish between
sky and sea. horizon? no.

___

I missed three trams to finish my last, cheap, cigarette. He holds onto my hands and says, they're cold, you're cold. You know that, I tell him, and he nods.
That's life.
I avoid eye contact.
There's something on your mind, he says.
No.
You're cold. Really, cold.

yoko

misplaced apostrophies are much worse than none at all.

free tom waits download has made my morning.
also literature teacher: 'please. apostrophies. they're easy. just get them right. please.'

bad grammar, dislike. bad grammar in english teachers, dislike.
english teachers who correct people with bad grammar.
love.

\the horror

protest movement pictures. yesplease.

bad posture.

let's be beatniks.

when you wear sunglasses, people look you in the eye.

sometimes kissing people you shouldn't kiss is a very good idea.

stacy says, fuck it '09, and i say, i don't know.

being young. yes.

responsibiliototototototo. no.

paint

something a little more pretty, please.

texttypelove. yes yes yes yes yes.

story of my life.

always with the procrastination.
i could write a novel in the time i spend avoiding it.
bake cakes
clean the house
watch a movie
paint ink all over your hands and feet
annotate your folio
read several non compulsory books
write a blog
send text messages implying you are so, so free to do anything, that does not involve study
have another cigarette
buy some orange juice
friendly facebook stalk

lazy. i think that's the word i'm looking for.

everything's a negative of everything else. these days i look at the world like a great big set of undeveloped pictures, and all the people are unduly black and their hair is white and the negative of me is, i don't know.

we tried to work it out.
we think it's a really hardcore basketball jock. someone who understands sport-talk and wakes up early For The Team and really enjoys motivational running around.
or a Bush loving redneck
i wouldn't count on it.

the negative of lydia is awkward clunky person, and the negative of brendon is shy boy that doesn't know what to say. the negative of lee is ultra macho.
it's easier to define what you DON'T want in a partner, than what you do want.

my phone refuses to ring when i want it to.
i should work. probably. or go procrastinate elsewhere.

robespierre, what a crazy motherfucker.

"...Illness had kept Robespierre away from the Convention since his appearance at the Festival of the Supreme Being. His reappearance in the National Convention on 26 July and his speech which, included threates to unnamed deputies, rallied his opponents. Robespierre claimed:

Every scoundrel insults me. Let them prepare hemlock for me. I will wait on these sacred seats. I have promised to leave a formidable testament to the oppressors of the people. I bequeath them the truth...and death.

The next day, as he attempted to speak, the deputies broke into cries of 'Down with the Tyrant! To the Guillotine!'. The deputy Vadier rose and listed accusations against him, at which stage, Robespierre lost his composure.


Rushing up and down the steps of the rostrum, he shouted 'Death! Death!' at each deputy he pointed to.
Thuriot was chairman of the Convention, Robespierre turned to him and shouted 'For the last time, will you give me time to speak, President of murderers?' His voice then broke and into the silence someone called out 'Ah! Danton's blood chokes you.' When he collapsed on a seat, he was violently shoved: 'Monster! How dare you? That was Vergniaud's seat!'"


To follow:
1 jaw shooting suicide attempt
101 executions
5 factions in the convention
2 cheeky muscadins
3 major schools of historiography
of which i may or may not have made up quotes for. good one.