Cautionary Tales

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Oct. 23rd, 2004

12:48 am - wine

A few glasses of wine now is the way we can be straight forward now. Everything till now has been blurred. This way we can drink sweet, sweet wine and 2 and 3 glasses will sit on the table and we will lie down and no longer lie about this clothes and this talk of that girl and this town and this car and this weather. We can, and not feel cold by the water cooler and we will be so cool as our ears warm up – sometimes one does but the other doesn’t – but you will. Our free will will be all that we will want to explore. Out of our Explorer and down to earth down with earth as we run around our minds and don’t mind a little rough truth as long as it doesn’t break any bones. Pieces of fiction in our lives will fade away as we fade into sometime new, something bright and brilliant…something original that will make us wish this moment – god, just this moment – remain for ever. You remember that time … oh, that time … we were innocent and not yet jaded by such clichés. A yet we will be strong…4… now, 4? Yeah, I think so. Yeah, well, the idea of dying will not sting us so much now that we got our wine. And yet will still wonder why we have to grow old. I swear, if only I stayed young, I wouldn’t mind dying. I swear to you. Just some wine should take care of this nagging distraction, this neon fantasy. Oh, I hope so. This life is relatively easy and yet we want to make it more difficult and for it we sacrifice what we once wanted, we have reduced everything to squares in rows of seven … repeating like a bad dream … we see this as progress but it’s an illusion and we always collide into and with clichés and the commonplace and do not notice it. Drink some wine and it’ll tell you what you were once like.

Current Mood: cynical

Current Music: sade

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Oct. 17th, 2004

Oct. 16th, 2004

Oct. 10th, 2004

Sep. 27th, 2004

09:27 pm - what's going on here?

lately i have been noticing that people who are against this war and this president are citing Iran as a great nuclear threat. they say that we are in the wrong country. that bush has wasted our resources and time in iraq....bypassing the problem of al-Qaeda and also dealing with Iran's aspirations for nuclear power/weapons. i think people should think twice before they jump on the this train as it slowly takes us into possibly a new war. we were not "only one letter off" in which country we invaded. we need to focus on al-Qaeda. it is kind of sad seeing people (liberals) who i support/admire/relate to attack Iran's motives...and saying that Iran is where we should focus our attention (all for partisan reasons). please do your research lest we blindly go into another war, diverting us from our main goal. and also, will someone out there (besides pat buchanan) step up and say what needs to be said? WE NEED TO CHANGE OUR FOREIGN POLICY IN THE MIDDLE EAST. it is simple as that. really, it is.

think critically now. iran is not a threat. they are involved in a power struggle in a very volatile region. there desire to be a nuclear power does not mean they are a threat.

Current Mood: annoyed

Current Music: deftones

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Sep. 2nd, 2004

Aug. 31st, 2004

11:45 pm - it's been awhile but you didnt notice

im moving to st.paul to work as a professional picture snapper for a newspaper. i will live there for 2-3 years and then i will return to kick your ass. i dont feel like typing a lot. but read this and be cool like me. time is life.

"Centuries ago, sailors on long voyages used to leave a pair of pigs on every deserted island. Or they'd leave a pair of goats. Either way, on any future visit, the island would be a source of meat. These islands, they were pristine. These were home to breeds of birds with no natural predators. Breeds of birds that lived nowhere else on earth. The plants there, without enemies they evolved without thorns or poisons. Without predators and enemies, these islands, they were paradise.
The sailors, the next time they visited these islands, the only things still there would be herds of goats or pigs.
Oyster is telling the story.
The sailors called this 'seeding meat.'
Oyster says, 'Does this remind you of anything? Maybe the ol' Adam and Eve story?'
Looking out of the car window, he says, 'You ever wonder when God's coming back with a lot of barbecue sauce?' " - From LULLABY by Chuck Palahniuk

i'll miss the sweden kids

cheers,

Current Mood: bored

Current Music: saosin - i can tell

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Apr. 16th, 2004

Mar. 31st, 2004

07:49 pm - the dream of all dreams

It's been a long time. I had a dream two nights ago. I wrote about it here. Happy dreams, puppets.
The dream
Looking back, it was a very weird dream. He fails to recall having any like it before. It haunts him. Always. It haunts him because unlike his past dreams – dreams that he swore he would never forget but are now no longer in his head – he cannot find any meaning in what he dreamt. He sees no reasons, no rational, no moral statement, and no prophecy.
It went like this: Out of a faceless crowd somewhere, for some purpose, he begins to argue with some guy behind him. In a minute or two, they are fighting, physically. The way they fight is very brutal, random, and graphic. They stab each other with whatever they can find. He uses a pen at one point to stab the legs of the other guy. It is bloody, loud, and aggressive – this is all he can remember. Over time, they are in a long hallway, exchanging punches for cracking skin and blood. They grunt. They gnaw. They bite. They break bones. It goes on for a long period, neither giving in. The pounding continues. Back and forth. Back and forth. As he dreams, he asks, “What is the point of this? When will this end? How? All of these, in reality (reality of the dream), are futile questions with no answers. He loses himself in the dream, fighting the fight. Finally, he pushes the other guy throw a glass window at the end of the hallway. Breaking glass falls on the floor and travel with the body as it falls the countless floors to the ground. He walked away from the window. He has won . . . what? Minutes pass with nothing but silence. He feels safe. Suddenly, horrible cries, cries of which he has never heard, cries that went through his toes, his feet, his legs, up his spine, all the while tightening his skin and making him shiver. The voice is a woman’s. How can that be, he thinks. I fought a man! And, shouldn’t he be dead now! There’s more?
He walks back down the hallway, and cautiously approaches the window to look to the ground. He thinks of hell. Her cries grow louder. Will someone help? The voice sounds too hopeless to come from the same person who was trying to kill him. He sees what appear to be emergency crews cleaning the area where the body had landed. They wash off the blood with high pressure water and gather brain and body parts. He thinks of the orthodox Jewish men who work tediously to leave no remains of human life behind after Palestinian suicide bombings. Feet away from the scene crawls (army style, stomach down, using arms to move the rest of the body) the woman. Her lower legs are missing. It is horrible. She cries, pleads for help. People follow her, cleaning the path of blood see leaves in a trail. No one helps her and he stands motionless. How can no one help? She crawls towards someone who does not move to help her. The person just stands there, letting her struggle to reach help.
The dream ends. He gets up baffled. This dream he is willing to let slide, to die off in his memories. However, he senses it never will.

Current Mood: confused

Current Music: muse

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Feb. 2nd, 2004

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