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2001-10-30 - 2:50 p.m.
Thursday, October 04, 2001
FACT: I am 22 years old.
I want this to mean something. Rimbaud had completed all of his works by now, actually by the age of 20. As i sat recounting change in the back room of Starbucks today my co workers laughed at me because i was an english major. i think they were laughing, i was suspicious that they were, but part of me couldn't be bothered to notice why. it just struck me as odd and i left feeling uncomfortable, mostly because i felt i was missing something. i think i am missing something most of the time. i see other people not missing things, being present in the moment, and i believe that they are open to a world without cynicism. but maybe i am idealizing. i am already feeling pressured to stop blogging and stop thinking and go and make reservations to go away for the weekend with my mother who is unhappy that we are going and also unhappy at the prospect of not going. i now realize that i spend most of my time trying to gauge her moods and not step on her toes and it is wearing me very very thin. i want my life back, but am not sure it was worth having back in the first place, not the way it was. i want it to be new. i want to learn things the right way this time. i want softness and sweetness for once. i know it's out there. it MUST be.
3:16 PM
Wednesday, September 19, 2001
i am acutely aware of my flaws.
so much so that i have dedicated an entire webpage to my flaws.
this must make me a very important person.
so now everything is better. i went to burning man. that fixed it all. i want to talk about it but i now realize that i may just THINK that everything is better and different, and maybe it's just the same. i do not trust my own judgement on this matter. i do not trust anyone.
hmmmm.
i am going to make a movie. it will be entitled HEAVY (heavy). it will be about gravity. it will be about breathing. about sucking the whole world in and holding it in your lungs until you think you can't hold on anymore. it will be about exhaling.
3:02 PM
Tuesday, August 07, 2001
too much routine? too much of the same? destroy it. i know you detest it. that little tightness in your chest. the little raw spot on your spine. the film in your mouth. chalky, sour. this is you. can you hear me? THIS IS YOU!!!
6:25 PM
Monday, July 30, 2001
the pain is exquisite. i languish in it. the weight impressing, bending my breastbone. i know this is all me.
2:26 PM