(no subject)

i want to go to the beach now and throw sand at the waves until i can't stay awake. when i'm bored i mistakenly tell people that not much is going on, when i really mean that nothing different is happening. in a recurring metaphoric daydream i see myself jumping from ice floe to ice floe, wary of staying on one long enough for it to sink under my weight. one week i'll sleep every day until my back is sore and the next week the skin around my eyes feels bruised from insomnia. i don't know what to do with my free time anymore, and i'm getting restless, like i've been balancing on the same frozen sheet of water and my feet are getting cold. the problem is, something can't stay different.

(no subject)

dream: i was on a basketball court in a park when a three-dimensional luminous grid overlaid the surroundings, or the surroundings dissolved to reveal this bright matrix. i ran inside an apartment with my ball. a television show began: a rapid tour of the earth in one long take. the screen pulled me in and i assumed its perspective, flying through forests and deserts, then shooting into space. the planet was halved like an apple, i could see all its layers. then i plummeted through the atmosphere over the pacific ocean and dropped straight into the lens of the space telescope atop mauna kea on hawaii's big island. whereas the television was an entrance, this optical element was an exit. (though this journey was almost wholly dissociative and egoless, i kept an anchor in the other consciousness by feeling the basketball's grooves and dimples.) my next memory was of swimming with hammerheads off the coast. i heard narration, like a professional voiceover, saying that we would save the sharks now that the money was going to the right places.

(no subject)

my caricature is the generic west coast asian boy--that mcdonald's-eating, digital-cable-watching, music-downloading, middle class kid with the white t-shirt and brown cargo shorts--stranded between pastel siding and ford tauruses, abercrombie and the gap, and there's always somebody who has to say, "man, you shouldn't complain and be so dissatisfied. so many people are worse off. just appreciate it." no, sorry, if i could invent contrasts, i'd always be ecstatic that i'm not being disemboweled. yay! my intestines aren't being ripped out! this is amazing!

if you think i'm cool, i've fooled you. lately i'm starting to see that i am a loser. everybody's been so nice, they never told me. i had to figure it out for myself. i had to examine the facts, of which the key points are: i'm still living with my mother, i don't have a job, i'm not in school, i haven't been on a date in years, and my character is falling apart. yes, maybe all this works, whatever that means, but the model t ford worked. the musket worked. rubbing sticks together for fire worked. shitting my diapers worked.

(no subject)

from an article:

"Another attraction is the Helpless Robot, created by Norm White of the Ontario College of Art and Design. Completely unable to move itself, the robot can detect the presence of people nearby and plead with them to move it into a certain position. The more the human gives in, the more strident its demands become until the person is faced with the choice of becoming its slave or ignoring its cries for help."

(no subject)

i wrote a lot of notes at monster massive. they were hard to read, but i managed to salvage these.

can't really write.
i feel cool, so much more than i should be.
the music is nearly tangible.
it feels warm and soft like an electric blanket.
such a tingly sensation.
sore muscles swollen, another strange near emotion to process and while it is there, it's not important.
the sounds bombard my consciousness like a kid screaming for the first time.
floating. upside down-left side up.
am I sitting or swimming?
would it matter? the answer is yes, but only so you can duplicate this again.
i'm talking.
it's there.
i can feel my voice.
the words are not important.
i run the tinges of a fork in my arm just to feel it.
luckily I'm thinking clearly and won't.
i've been lied to. this is wonderful.
love warmth talking.
wind floats around my body and tickles my every nerve.
my teeth feel different.
i've spent so much time to figure this life out.
understand this.
friends.
i wonder if i'll remember this tomorrow.
sounds of cars.
kissing.
girls.
girls kissing.
the feeling of a dog gnawing on your arm.
this straw is good.
everything is new.
glowstick.
light is a new toy i've never seen before.
i'm going to end this now.
i will write, but now it's time to give another his turn.

(no subject)

structured ideas have their place, but so do random scraps of thought:

i took two chemistry classes in high school, and i learned the same thing from each: don't ever again take chemistry classes. i know you've done this before: somebody has asked you if they've told you a certain story before, and you say that they had, even though they hadn't. feelings are not clear and defined, so words don't quite fit upon them. it'd be interesting if, for every life you save, you're allowed to take one. all i want is just a little more, constantly. when they can't make fun of your weaknesses, they will make fun of your strong points. what's the difference between awful and god-awful? sometimes it seems a shame that one can purposely remember but not purposely forget. sometimes i see morbidly obese people drinking diet soda. you can breed orchids and have your purpose that way. why make a distinction between artificial and genuine happiness? i wouldn't have the patience or dedication to be a woman, but if i could be female, i know i'd spend the first six or seven hours of womanhood squating naked over a mirror. the more the merrier, to an extent. apparently my call will be answered in the order it was received. note to self: next time, check to see if cheese is available before attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich. you've got that crazy look in your eyes again. i wish children in general were less sticky. i am of the opinion that my opinion doesn't matter. tell me, was this sentence worth writing? feelings are not decisions. not only is pink a color but also a connotation. there are people who care more about their dinnerware than their dinner.

(no subject)

i just heard something about you: your boyfriend/girlfriend was great at first but then he/she gradually changed, leaving you with this new person while you longed for the old one, and for a long time you just couldn't let go of either.