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Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

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Monday, November 5th, 2007
10:44 pm - don't you ever stop being dandy and showing me you're handsome
oh five months feels like so long yet rapidly gone.

the fall came switly, i never feel ready for it anymore. once the daylight is gone it's six months of night, when the sun does shine the reflection in the snow blinds me. i still get sunburn.

but that's still a few weeks away.

i've never been in a relationship with a boy longer than. threeeee..four? months. until now. ten points for me. my parents even met Peter. and i can't be sure but i think they maybe possibly might have liked him a little.

after seeing Inland Empire five times in theatres, i bought the movie and have watched it at least six times since. which equals thirty-three hours of my life watching Inland Empire.

Books in current rotation are: Perfume by Patrick Suskind (almost done); Swann's Way by Marcel Proust (almost halfway done); and Middlesex by jefferey eugenides (barely begun).

i haven't really seen any new films. just the same old ones over and over. i did just see Wristcutters and i think i liked it.

um. and i'm coming to Shreveport for christmas so there's a few of you who maybe might be reading this that i would like to see.

but i guess that's almost two months away still.

the word of this entry is still.

(6 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Thursday, June 7th, 2007
7:13 pm - asia minor
Well i lost my job at the cafe due to what i like to call eastern European "outsourcing" but oh well things were shady there anyway. i might report the owner to the police or something. take that you Turkish bastard.

i was enjoying being unemployed... then i thought i should try to get a job so i went downtown with kara to argo and wham bam got a job.

my ultimate plan is to work minimal hours and take out loans so i can focus on school. i won't burn out this time so help me.

Peter is still fantastic, in fact most everything is pretty fantastic right now aside from bills and owing people money and worrying about my artistic abilities/future. that and medical problems.

okay so i have several fantastic aspects going for me and a few not so fantastic aspects.

i guess things are pretty much the same. life is like a river blah blah blah.

(gouge away)

Sunday, May 27th, 2007
3:25 pm - i can't bear her raven tresses caught up in the breeze like that
the turkish guys at the cafe keep hiring family and eastern european women to work at the cafe and i'm losing hours because of them and their lack of communication with the head chef who is kind of running everything so i'm worried about that now.

that and i'm about 75% sure that the owner is using the cafe as a meeting place for illegal immigrants to make deals on getting visas and passports. large groups of turkish women will come in, eat, talk with the owner (in turkish of course since most of these women cannot speak english) then they all leave in good humour. and we never see the women again.

I've been seeing someone, Peter is his name, for a little over a month. it's nice. very nice actually. he's not a jerk. and he's OBSESSED with Muppets and Star Trek. i <3 dorks.

i'm moving this week away from the wonders of West Town back into the dark abyss of Logan Square. i hate moving.

and my right side is sore again and i don't know why! yay! could it be my kidney? my appendix? Muscle? Rib? Who knows!

i realised recently that sore spelled backwards is Eros which means love.

(gouge away)

Sunday, April 29th, 2007
7:41 pm - His name still lingers maybe lactates on my tongue
maybe it's the sun but life has suddenly become overwhelmingly livable. maybe it's holding hands or not punching into the timeclock or the sound of my voice amplified beyond my hearing and supportive words that i actually hear
the wind at my back but not biting
the taste of dried ginger and cashews, dried mango and indian food
a pink bicycle
agreeing with words like 'nothing lasts forever' 'you don't know about tomorrow'
not being troubled by my apocalyptic dreams and telling them to someone waking up with me

or maybe it's just the sun. the end of april. moving out of adolescence.

..dear Lauren: i'm sorry i suck at answering my phone i love you stinky..

(2 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Thursday, April 26th, 2007
10:49 pm - i want my ring finger in every teenager i see
many good things happened today. many, many good things.

among these were a reading i did at what used to be my school. it went over really well... it was one of the most encouraging events to happen in a while.

and other things happened. good things.

and tomorrow will be the last day i wake up at 4am to work at caribou. I still have another week there. just not so early.

so, things are good.


(1 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Sunday, April 22nd, 2007
12:42 am - inbetweens
i am in the process of quitting Caribou and working at a... coffeeshop. More of a cafe though. It opened like a week ago which makes me nervous... but it seems really nice and the food is really good if not a little simple. I'm the full time barista/server and the chef i worked with tonight said i did a good job, he thought I waited tables before. which means nothing i know but whatever.

it's a strange gig though... VERY unorganized, the space is tiny and tonight most of the people who came in where Turkish friends of the Turkish owner who is a bit too flirtatious and has a short temper.

we carry Julius Meinl coffee though, which is an upside considering it's pretty much the only place outside the Julius Meinl that sells it which is pretty much the only Julius Meinl outside Austria. Maybe even Vianna.


yay new jobs! here's hoping for good business and lots of tips.

it's at 1130 N Wells, around Division/Wells. You should come in and visit me.

umm. besides dropping out of school and searching for new apartments that's pretty much been my life.

(gouge away)

Monday, April 16th, 2007
11:07 am - absurd coffee
ladies and gentlemen, coffee from David Lynch. Packaged by dwarfs and mystery men (all Polish).

(gouge away)

Saturday, April 14th, 2007
2:50 am - you can't take that stuff to canada
thank you harold washington city college of chicago for publishing a community college dropout: (and the formatting is fucked up because i hate autoformatting and i hate word processors they terrify me i prefer pens though keyboards aremore efficient and widespread they make me nervous so it shouldn't look this uniformed not that it should make too much of a difference it's a personal preference that's all)

(In three acts with an epilogue)

“And suddenly there came a SOUND from Heaven…”


They said they heard the Voice of God
Solid in their beds
In their heads
Noise of Peace, prophecies they said.
He heard them, in his ears, but not (Him)
(he was only eight years
And he waited.
The Television buzzed and his friends buzzed
But he ignored
And he waited
In his bed he rested in the silence, but didn’t know it.
His stomach churned.
It was the last Silence he ever heard.



Caws hisses slurps, buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Chipmunks chatter (chrrchirrrchrrrk)
Stomping like elephants (baRUMPH)
BRAYING (that’s a donkey) a farm des bruits (noises) the brutes
BANG!! The hunter comes/smiles bloody teeth
A buzzsaw ripping shredding stringy flesh and
Feathers/fur float around
Like snow or
Dust from a construction site



Nights like this turn my brain into
White rocks washing upon a grey (gray) beach when rain falls
(taptapRATTATAT) not a gentle plinking but a cold hard (TAPPING)
Like constant thunder/bullets on the tin
The sky ripping apart an engine
ROAORAS leaking black stuff, brown on the wet grass a trail leading to open
(BOOOM) a crash not unlike a tornado a fire alarm (BREEEEE) a bird
Chirps the ambulance SCREAMS bloody murder (cliché) and the dead
Women don’t scream.
The neighborhood in flames.
A solitary rabbit cautiously hops through the wreckage
Two shadows make love while bodies cover their ears
Two men show each other their guns (maybe yelling but most likely mouthing very angrily body language louder than-)
FLASH engine ROAR chirpchirpchirp
Nights like this the wind blows but everything is anchored down to the Earth’s skin and
Earth won’t let go (stubborn bitch)
The wind HOWLS (lonely werewolves)
Nights like this need an aspirin to make it through.
(missing the moon)



He is silent in his bathrobe/wet hair
Pots and pans clanging like lightning (which is silent)
The body is a machine
He thinks silently
And God is a programmer (input/output)
The ocean of electricity (wires humming like an
Awestricken crowd)
Carries the vessel of
Technicalities (the Law of Physics)
On a purple shore of dried bones he cries out
An appeal to those who will hear
(Listen the Body reacts to
Magnetics and the overweight couple upstairs
Bed rocking no earthquake/FUCK YEAH)
A request for rest

(1 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Wednesday, April 4th, 2007
8:05 pm - there's no such thing as dragonfly pills
these indie kids aren't proving to be much better than the mexicans.

The bad: I came dangerously close to going insane (not being melodramtic either) at least twice. Spent most of this year severely depressed. Almost had a boy like me but then he changed his mind. dropped two classes. lost all motivation to go to school (among other things).

The good: there are people left who do care about me. Low released an unspeakably beautiful album. I saw Inland Empire four times and decided it is good. I might have been convinced to do a poetry reading. the play is over (though it still haunts me). um.

i hate april. i hope this one proves to be a better month than march was. i can't imagine worse.

(3 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Monday, April 2nd, 2007
7:57 pm - the world is full of noise (i hear it all the time)
i had a dream that i didn't exist as a human before the age of six/ that i was(or drifted in) an infinite void/ infinite is the wrong word/ it was nothing but everything/ it was black but not/ black is something it was nothing/ i floated but not really you see i was but wasn't/

it was quiet. total absence of noise.

then something awoke me. a noise. a great screech/ electronic feedback/ a sonic scream like the whip in the air against your face when a great bird swoops over your head.if you've ever felt that.

after that i became a little boy/ took over the shell/ it was someone else's life and it became mine/ i didn't know who the two people calling themeselves my parents were/ but i came to accept it/ and there was so much noise

but not a single noise compared to that first scream/ and it dominated the rest of my life.i dreamed within my dream of that sound/

then last night i dreamt of a song that doesn't exist called "are you a witch?" and i knew the melody this morning but its gone now and i only have one line remianing: "are you a witch/ or are you wine?"

and my show is over and i want to go home (wherever that is/nowhere?)

(gouge away)

Friday, March 30th, 2007
2:03 am
1200 dollars and two months of pure misery and i get nothing. nothing except a newfound clarity regarding reality. and of who i am and who i will always be and that i don't like that person and never will and that this is unchangeable because that is who i am and i am unwilling and unmotivated to try. this is who i've been all my life i don't know why i expected myself to change now.

i just need to come to terms with my cowardice any maybe it'll just be over.

i don't want to be sixty years old and feel this way the way i felt five years ago the way i felt ten years ago the way i felt fifteen years ago but it hasn't changed yet how is it going to change in the future?

i want to sleep. just sleep.

(gouge away)

Monday, March 26th, 2007
9:37 pm - what can we do
i hate feeling helpless... i can raise awareness though. this made me cry. It says 70 missing, but from a documentary i saw the number of missing women is around 4000; with a death total of around 450.

of course this isn't happening only in mexico, but shit.

i forget how to post links, so: http://www.amnestyusa.org/women/juarez/

(gouge away)

Sunday, March 18th, 2007
3:20 am - paddys
"Comparing tom waits and bob dylan is like comparing mortal combat to checkers."

"wait... so you are comparing Tom Waits to... Mortal Combat?"


"You... are comparing Tom Waits to Mortal Combat??"




"Let me get this straight... you are comparing Tom Waits to Mortal Combat?"


I hate the Irish.

(1 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

3:14 am - paddys
"Comparing tom waits and bob dylan is like comparing mortal combat to checkers."

"wait... so you are comparing Tom Waits to... Mortal Combat?"


"You... are comparing Tom Waits to Mortal Combat??"




"Let me get this straight... you are comparing Tom Waits to Mortal Combat?"


I hate the Irish.

(gouge away)

Saturday, March 10th, 2007
4:42 am - a thousand tons of cinder block
my manager advised me to seek psychiatric help; that my mood ("depression" if you will) has been affecting my work.

the weather was beautiful today until it rained and the moon looked like someone cut a slit in the sky and stuck a red disk partly through it.

(1 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Monday, March 5th, 2007
10:55 pm - this is not a world in which i wish to live
-Have you made any plans?

-Take an overdose, slash my wrists then hang myself.

-All those things together?

-it couldn't possibly be misconstrued as a cry for help.

-it's fear that keeps me away from the train tracks. I just hope to god that death is the fucking end. I feel like I'm eighty years old. I'm tired of life and my mind wants to die.

-That's a metaphor, not reality

-It's a simile.


I had to take a theatre class. i thought it would be a good idea. i had to see a play to do a critique. it had to be a sarah kane play.

before this, before the play I wrote a scene for my class. it's a scene from a play i hope to finish someday. i wrote the scene several weeks ago.

i let a girl in the play i'm in read the scene, she asked if i knew who Sarah Kane was. I had just seen her play the day before.

she let's me borrow Sarah Kane's collected works. Only five plays and a screenplay.

and i read 4.48 Psychosis.


i've contemplated suicide for a great many years. not as an action i would take, just in general. when i was thirteen i simply didn't want to live but was terrified to kill myself. this lasted for several years until i ran across Albert Camus who believed suicide was essentially the absurd man giving up and accepting the universe, the Gods' punishment... so I believed that by choosing to live I was creating my own personal rebellion.

i don't think i have the ability to end my life, not now, not ever. i want that much to be clear.

as i grew older i knew i had a responsibility to the people i love to live. i'm not sure if i really believe this, it's a heavy responsibility to have and i always thought i believed my only responsibility was to myself. still.

one of my many faults is my reliance on the opinions of others. i act like i don't care but i desperately do. i have to... why am i alive right now... for people. this is a huge problem for my sanity.

i love the people who are and who have been close to me...

but ever since i read Sarah Kane's words... "this is not a world in which i wish to live." I have never so adamantly agreed with the written word.


So what does all this mean? I don't know. it means i have very specific feeling regarding death of myself and life for others, it means i only hold meaning in the lives of others or in the hope that tomorrow when the sun hits my face i can feel warmth or joy or even mirth and that i can find the beauty in a decaying rat's body or feel ashamed for feeling anything besides disgust when i see it/it means that i am sick of being embarrassed about saying what i truly feel because someone somewhere is going to judge me based on my age/mental abilities/whatever the fuck/
it means i am attracted to misery and that's just. the way. it is. it's how things have always been and i don't want to care anymore i don't want to be lumped in with everyone else with a sob story and scars on their wrists/
it means that ultimately, i feel a sadness for the fact that suicide isn't the final statement one can make about life, that it will be marginilized and eventually forgotten suicides labeled as cowards, sinners, sad sods/life is meaningless death is meaningless and will this even change in ten years or will i just forget and don't fucking roll your eyes you need people like me so you can feel better about your lives

is anything meaningless anyway. does that mean anything? when does one determine the point in which one bites one's tongue off?

just please don't write me off/

(misery can be therapeutic)

(gouge away)

Monday, February 26th, 2007
3:40 am - Blasted.
i'm sitting here fuly caffeinated at 3:30 in the morning. i will be leaving for work in less than an hour, after work i will go to school and spend five hours writing an argumentative paper on the demerits of neo-natal circumcision that i will turn into my class immediately afterwards then attend my anthropology class and then i will run to the theatre space and arriving late i will act the best that i can considering 1) my part is so small there is little character to grasp and 2) i haven't memorized my lines. after all of this i will head home and probably get little sleep since i have a math test, a presentation and a play critique due in all my classes for the next day.

and the only thing racing in my mind is from the play i will be critiquing. it is not from the play it IS the play.

I saw Blasted at A Red Orchid.


The play was designed to shock and disturb. There is anal rape, among other types of rape. Uncomfortble nudity. What it think may have been actual pissing, a man eats another man's eyes... a man eats a dead baby. a mildly retarded young oman is raped several times and... there is a lot of talk about really horrible things.

but it was the... no. i don't know what affected me so much. it was more than all that. it left me... jumbled up, confused. i can't express anything right now.

it may be the caffeine or the intense studying on Empiricism i've been doing all night... or whatever.

i'm in a state of shock and i can't express anything the end.

(gouge away)

Monday, February 19th, 2007
7:47 pm - to be young, gifted, and black
Pretentious Bearded Artsytype Boy Reading a Book Moment #1: Waiting at the clark/lakeblue line stop after my last class. I'm waiting next to a (bearded) boy who is reading House of Leaves. He flips back in he book every few moments.

Pretentious Bearded Artsytype Boy Reading A Book Moment #2: Waiting for same train. Slightly more masculine boy (e.g. more facial hair) enters platform and after looking to the right for a train and seeing none approaching he pulls out a new copy of Naked Lunch. This is the third time I've seen a young "hip" male reading Naked Lunch in public. Who reads that shit in public?

Pretentious Bearded Artsytype Boy Reading a Book Moment #3: On the train I notice a plaid wearing, stupid knit cap donning thickly bearded boy reading A Confederacy of Dunces, which, granted, is such a fantastic book everyone should read it anywhere BUT. He was reading it with the solemnity one would reserve for reading the Bible (given one was a staunch christian). Dunces is quite possibly the funniest book ever written. It is impossible for a person possessing a soul to go more than three sentences without at LEAST cracking a smile. Plus he didn't turn the page the entire time I was on the train (which was maybe six/seven minutes).


In addition (in no way connected to... anything) I have one thing if nothing else positive to say about Inland Empire, it was the final push in getting me to listen to Nina Simone (Mandy, if you're reading this, this is just another reminder as to why i should always listen to you).

Sinnerman might just be the greatest song ever recorded. I've been weighing the possibilities... and as of this moment I'm saying yes. I need more time of course.

Oh, and I'm going crazy with melancholy and i'm suffering a spot of teen angst (GOD no one will LISTEN to me!)

now i'm going to go get some "sleep." Because it's not really sleep. It just pretends it is.

(2 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Friday, February 9th, 2007
12:12 pm - One Hand Clapping, or: Racism
I burnt my hand pretty bad at work today. Coffee is hot, boys and girls, it's best not to apply freshly brewed coffee to one's hand. Second degree burns... and worker's comp! I get paid for not going to work because i burned myself. yay!

i am in a play at school. it's about black people. my character was supposed to be black but i guess we'll just ignore that. All three white boys who are in the play are GAYYYY. and i sincerely mean that. The black boys are certainly not. so it'll be an interesting mix.

I get to dance onstage, though i haven't danced since gymnastics many years ago (or three... four?).

Other than that.... lessee. I have no time anymore for anything other than sleep. I wake up at 4 am, go to work, get off at about 10 or 11 and then i go to school where i stay until my last class, tue/thur at 5:15 and mon/wed at 7. I never leave the Loop during rush hour, so i never get home until about 7:30. now that i'm in a play i don't get home till around 9:30 or 10.

I work on saturdays from 7:30-2:30 in addition to the five days i work during the week. which means sunday is the only day i do nothing.

However, i don't have to work tomorrow because the worker's comp fairy visited me, and i don't have school on monday thanks to Mr. Abraham Lincoln.

it's difficult to type with one hand.

I saw Inland Empire again and i think my opinion is beginning to change... there's some haunting shit in that movie... and i think i'm going to see it a third time. it all kind of makes me hate david lynch a little more. i've never reacted to a movie like this before. shit.

(10 holy fingerholy fingers | gouge away)

Saturday, January 27th, 2007
2:28 am - i don't know if it's yesterday or tomorrow and it's a real mindfuck

I have seen strange films. I have seen a fim whose opening scene was a claymation piece where a woman pulls a demon out of her soup with a fork and said demon falls in love with the woman's uvula and rips it out. (Happiness of the Katakuris)

I have seen a movie that involves a man turning into metal (and at one point drills a girl to death with his... drill penis) (Tetsuo: Iron Man)

I have seen a short film about a baby-like piece of shit who finds its place in the world (Doggie Poo)

I have seen every David Lynch film. Monkeys who whisper Judy and all. I am no stranger to the odd, non-linear, far from cohesive film. In fact, I tend to embrace these frustratingly odd pieces of cinema. I do.


No film has ever actually given me a headache.

The film was pretty, well, awful. It looked horrible, very amateur and Lynch was trying for something different with digital and all but. I hated it. Awful.

I lost it when the group of prostitutes started dancing to Locomotion. This actually happened. LOCOMOTION.

If Lynch's name wasn't on this film I wouldn't believe he actually made it.

And such a poor use of Jeremy Irons!

I am a little angry.

Birthday party tomorrow yay!

(gouge away)

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