Write an end to this.    2002-07-04 14:00:37 ET
12:51 pm. Iím so mutherfucking full of wrath as shit to hell. So many ideas, so many thoughts, so many reflections, so many consequences, so much pain, so much agony, so full of HATE, so sick of all, so many principles, so many bifurcations, so many paradoxes, such ironies, so many blinds, so few understandings, so little cleverness, so little maturity out there, so little ripeness in thoughts out there, so much suffocating, so much angst, ...so ALONE, so misunderstood, so fucking full of shit everywhere.

Ah, when sometimes, things seems to be nice and gentle, when weíre so blind to the real ripe philosophy of our own, that everything seems so beautifully naive, then it comes this nightmare, this cruel passion for the incoherent desire of absence. To reclaim my sadness for fucking wondering again the most potent, colossal, exhaustive and complicated philosophy ever... WHY? Which so many answers may remain in my mind, living altogether each other for patience and sickness of will. You, fucking shameless cocky bastard out there... hate will be just so little thing Iíd feel for you, hate would be only a member of my cognoscible integrity for my conscious motive. Today, today Iíve felt, again, the HATE as hard as my thoughts have gone only a few times before. Such that itís hard to describe it well understood for any simple person without redacting it with a poet in my hands. I can only say that this happening, that everyone would see as a simple fact of life, by truth determines my roads for ever ending sadness. To say that I canít believe, again, how it is that out there are still mechanic entities of energy with ostensible reasoning proclaiming themselves as human beings, whom obstruct our naively illusion of happiness.

So fucking sick of all these thoughts that I can only ask for myself in my search for empathy, for the kind embrace of theories. All this paranoia that constantly makes me suffer desiring my resolution with death; the only feasible act for the calm to my agony. I canít explain what really happened that made write this. Because when sad, my sober will for thinking goes clever and calm... but when furious, if not so sober yet clean is my will for thinking, goes so quick that so many ideas occurs to me in few laps of time, but each of them as ripe as well as the others, the problem here is as I said, that it goes so rapidly that all of them canít seem to attach to the main awareness of the prudence itself. But all of this that remains calmly in my mind when not a motor for ideas movement, becomes futile to my own will for desire, desire of anything, the apathy: the sluggishness of will to live...

3:07 pm. So, I took a nap now. Every time when I take a nap I feel cleaner of my thoughts, everythingís so calmed and relaxed. ...but Iím still angry about the thing, I canít quit thinking of this ugly bitch, of how this horrible human piece of crap said ďlook, I donít want to discuss this anymore, things are this way because it is this wayĒ. I will always damn that shit to hell. Iím serious. For the few people a truly, truly hate, I wish all my anger to them to death, I really would enjoy their death due my inner desire for eliminate their ugly faces, and I wonít regret of wishing it, not with this really complicated philosophy I have. Not now not never. I also wonít be able to smile properly or honestly for any circumstances, Iíll either have my ugly face with my pathetic angry-eyes glancing to where the fuck I want to, have my dead-apathetic face without any expression of joy at all like any other faceless machine there, or have my stupid sad wanting-to-die eyes that no one cares. So this, my unlived face, will be my only uniform to show up for a while. Maybe Iíd smile a bit disgraces of other people just to indemnify my horror of awareness, yes, to mock, maybe, of those teeny preps with their stupid believes or their disgraces that they think that hurts, yes, I will, with no regret. Because now Iíve felt so much hurt in my mind I cannot give a shit of their unripe morality and childish ethic which makes them have that dumb satisfaction of hope. Laugh at their god or believes is to premature now, is to simple and awkward, I wonít fuck with their shit that way, so donít they fuck with me now, saying ďoh, everything will be alrightĒ...I just canít stand to recognize how poor that phrase is... why do they say everything? How do they know all the facts behind? Howís it possible that they are aware of an all-understood situation? Then, why the fuck do they say it will be alright? Do they know the future? Are their minds so sophisticated to accurate the possible future movements and apply to a happy future fact? How do they know I wonít go insane, or killing someone else, or myself, or become stupid, ill, or whatever? Why are they so sure of the future? And, alright? truly, how do they know whatís alright and whatís wrong? Who in the fuck are they to assure good and evil? Another never ending theme for poor humanity again. These retards will always be wandering whatís wrong and bad. So how do they know it will be alright for me when something that might scare them will be alright for me and bad or wrong for them?

I feel like shit, I know, but this all issue have put me to think,one more time, that all this reflections wonít do any good for me if I donít have any empathy. I will then rot in my own mind even more and more every time I see more disgusting shits around me. When I took a part of this Gothic culture I do it to relieve-or-ironically-grow my pain but at least to try to unwrap the cords of my slavery; not like how I see some kindergoths out on the streets saying their angry and want to kill everyone due to their misfortune too, like if they were really the painting of how parenthood sees any rude kid out there. Meantime I use this darkness theory as a whole philosophy, something that not everyone should be claming of have, a philosophy, the main thinking of dry out one simple idea to its most complicated and endless bifurcation thought, the only subject considered as true science and art at the same time, that has been in humanity thousand years ago, a very complex stream of identifying themes for oneís self, a philosophy, not only an angsty mood for liking dead/dark subjects, a mean a real theorem of life, like all I have thought said above about only my anger and part of my suffering.

Now I wonít be able to smile properly again as I said, nothing but a neat babyís smile..., and I wonít care a shit about others that really I shouldnít care, like the coldest heart ever... yet I will still feel fond of the few ones I have no problem with and I show interest for; in deed, Iíll be even more subjective about this now, because Iíll still feel love and passion (maybe more than ever) but only for the things I choose, not for the things human morality should talk to me. So, yes, if you ask again, I have no interest on keeping my head alive in this fucked up mind. When the sickness and wrath overcomes to me, this is only a part of what I can say.

Better read with Danny Elfman - Descent Into Mystery (from Batman score)

 Solo between the kids.    2002-07-01 17:06:14 ET
Strange, I had dream but I donít remember what it was about; I can only recall that I was Batman, like the Tim Burtonís version. Funny.

So, What happened yesterday? Yes, I had my presentation about the violin thing. Fortunately it wasnít a big deal because, as I said, most of the Ďnewí students were children about 4 to 12 years old of age, like 3 teenagers, and only some Korean girl and I were the Ďgrown upsí there. It was freaky watching me there with the kids. But fortunately there were no judges or anything like it, there were mostly the kidís parents as audience, so they wouldnít have noted if I were playing hardcore or Mozart, heh. Oh, well. First passed some child about 6 or 5 years old, then it was me. I only played this singular folk melody and that was all. The audience semi-applauded as a compromise I guess, because I really sucked ass there. Damn, I donít know why even if I knew there were only the parenthood there I should I be so worried? I guess I was presence of my nice teacher and the main professor there or simple that I wanted to do it well. My hands were trembling so fucking uncontrollable but I played it without any errors, I only played it a little trembling, thatís all, but Iím sure I had played it way much more well at home than there. So then many other children played there and the last one, as violin solos, was this Korean girl, whom did play very well, she definitely was in a higher level of practice. Then it came the piano solos, and again a whole crowd of little faces was there, but now there played even some other teenagers: some dude that played the Titanic theme song of the movie; even the boyfriend of my gothie teacher played there, even though Iím not so sure heís a goth too, he had his hair green-dyed, I donít think that looks moody enough to be a goth, but since I donít really know anything about the punk subculture I canít say if he was a punk, maybe heís just another metalhead there. Anyway, he played, and finally a couple of Korean brothers played too in a duet of piano and violin altogether the Autumn of Vivaldiís ďFour SeasonsĒ, and they kicked ass very well!

Between the violin solos and piano solos, the original students orchestra played several melodies. Finalizing the studentsí debut, again this small orchestra played one more song like the end of the whole show. And so, that was all. But ...and today? Well I didnít do much today but sleeping as the lazy ass shit I am, lets just see what happens next.

 A violin presentation?    2002-06-29 09:10:32 ET
Iíve just came back from my violin lessons, too bad I didnít have my pretty goth teacher today, instead I had some other dude teaching me. I was because there were many kids now and they separated into two groups, so the goth teacher took one group and this guy took the other were I was. My fingers hurt a little... I forgot to cut my nails, the goth teacher had told me the other time that it was better to have short nails, at least in the left hand, so I could play better, ...oh naughty me, I forgot to cut my nails, itís just that... I like having long nails... well, not that very long nails, just the length of a having 3 or 2 weeks without cutting them. That might be a little long for men, but for women of course I have seen them with very very long nails compared to me... am I talking about nails? What the fuck? Whatever.

So, guess what?... They told me that tomorrow Iíll have my very first presentation... like a test or debut just to see how the students are going... ęgulp!Ľ Aaah!!! Iím so scared!!!! Oh no! What am I going to do? Well... I know what I am going to do... the question is... how am I going to do? Aah! Iím so nervous! Somebody help me!!! ...ooh anyway, Iím going to play this folk melody called ďLong Long AgoĒ. I chose that because it is, apparently, an easy one and it isnít too long... heh, sorry but I have a very bad memory for remembering things... Oh well, I have never played a musical instrument in front of people in my life! What can I add to this? Ooh... so nervous!

 Thoughtlessness    2002-06-28 07:01:13 ET
Damn! I'm not very thinking at day, unless I'm under some kind of pressure. Most of the ideas I want to write down or at least describe in this journal occur to me at night, yep, the night has like some strange power over me (how original! ha!), but sometimes at night I canít use the damn computer because I have stuff to do... shit, well, anyway...

I dreamed about the mysterious goth girl I 'followed' to give her the draw I made. Damn, it put me to think that if I ever see her again I would be so scared and blushed, because I didnít knew what she thought of it. Well... in the dream I had, she was like a bit shy about it as well as me, though it was somehow a pretty romantic... I donít know, it was just a dream.

Ok, but things still goes un...mhh well, tonight Iím going to see the orchestra performing the usual classical music... nice! Iíll see if I have something to write at night or until tomorrow.
1 comment

 No skull?    2002-06-24 11:54:52 ET
Strange, normally I found hard to remember most of my dreams, and the ones I remember I remember they were strange, but I guess this is normal, that every dream should be Ďstrangeí or else it wouldnít have been Ďrememberedí. So, I took a nap today and I had this weird dream:

I remember I had been going to many places in the city. Then I stopped by the theatre were I always go to see the orchestra performing classical music, but this time they werenít playing to as a show, they were only doing rehearsals for the next presentation, and I knew this, I just wanted to know how they were doing. Then I saw there a friend who also did want to see them but I told him that they were in rehearsal only, he go and so did I. Then I wanted to take a bus to come back home but they werenít passing buses where I was, so I walked a few blocks through a very narrow sidewalk with the rain getting me wet. Then I took the bus and I donít know why I take off in a hospital. I started to walk around there and I meet some doctors that supposedly in the dream Iíve met them, but I really had never seen them, huh? So, I went with them and observed them working on surgeries and stuff.

Now, the Ďweird thingí, I then looked some body there they were doing a surgery in which they had to open his chest. When I asked who was it and why, they told me that it was my body and that they had to do it because I had a problem with my ribs and some other organs there. I got somehow amazed because I was watching my body and at the same time watching it ...with my other body? What the fuck? Well, then I kind of helped them like passing them some surgery instruments, and after that I looked myself in the mirror ...and I noticed that I had no skull!!! Well I had only removed the part that covers the brain and my eyes, so I could see them, and it was pretty funny because I remember I was aware that I should feel pain or something but I didnít! It was amusing how I could watch my eyeballs moving. Then the doctors said that I should come back to them so they could put my brain connected to my spinal cord ...so... wasnít I carrying my spinal cord when I looked myself in the mirror??? ĎOkí I said to them and start approaching when suddenly I started to feel dizzy and my fingers werenít able to feel and my arms were becoming immobile, then I laid in the bed, and my vision started to blur until I really couldnít see anything, but I was still able to hear what the doctors were doing. Then I stood up and I was Ďoneí again, but I was wearing some gypsum on my arms like if I had had an accident or so, but it was itchy and I removed them and nothing happened. I asked for the doctors and they told me that they had gone to a meeting, so I went out of the hospital. I felt like a normal human being again (?!) and took a bus to home. Still raining, I took off and passed near a house of some friend, I only passed near to see if I could see her, nothing happened. Then walking way back home I watched some dudes playing tennis (raining?) and keep walking... then... I woke up! And the dream is over!

Pretty estrange huh? Oh well at least I remembered a dream, because I almost canít remember most of my dreams. Sometimes I just remember I dreamed something but not sure what and this time I could remember!

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