06-13-99

I love you.


In the dark
I can feel your presence
Just a hint of your

face in the data-flow

screen

diagram of you

adore

Eleanor Rigby
        Sits at the keyboard
        And waits for a line on the screen
Lives in a dream
Waits for a signal
        Finding some code
        That will make the machine do some more.
What is it for?

All the lonely users, where do they all come from?
All the lonely users, why does it take so long?

Love Poem

             It's so nice
          to wake up in the morning
             all alone
          and not have to tell somebody
             you love them
          when you don't love them
             any more.

Entry on June Thirteenth, Nineteen Ninety Nine
at Nine Fifty Nine Past Morning.

All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace

          I like to think (and
          the sooner the better!)
          of a cybernetic meadow
          where mammals and computers
          live together in mutually
          programming harmony
          like pure water
          touching clear sky.

          I like to think
             (right now, please!)
          of a cybernetic forest
          filled with pines and electronics
          where deer stroll peacefully
          past computers
          as if they were flowers
          with spinning blossoms.

          I like to think
             (It has to be!)
          of a cybernetic ecology 
          where we are free of our labors
          and joined back to nature,
          returned to our mammal
          brothers and sisters,
          and all watched over
          by machines of loving grace.

Also walkabout, but I am way to head-achie and tired and cranky and bitchy and whiny to even TELL YOU!

well, i sit here, drinking coffee, I have 3 bottles of port and a bottle of Tokey or however you spell it I am too tired too look and also some other stuff that doesn't matter all that much when it is quarter past nine on a sunday night. It would've been a school night if i had bothered to go to school but oh yes oh yes I consider myself to good to be bothered with academics. So as time goes on and it does it does, I remember my birthday just passed me my on the eighth of June and now I am twenty-two. I realize alot of people are this age and alot more have been and will be, but regardless (not irregardless) I still feel all significant and OLD. I wish I had made my first million like everyone else, or had an obscene amount of money at my disposal like everyone else.

I am feeling rather angsty and peeved this evening. I have had a migraine since eleven o'clock Eastern Standard Time this evening and nothing has helped. My neck is killing me. I promised my beautiful lovely rational logical * that I would finish her website, and so I shall, even if it kills me, and I worry that it will. I also am putting the final touches on a painting that was designed and implemented by myself for Corky, the boy who has captured my heart and whom won't give it back. I am not a sex goddess, but you can ask some other people I know about it.

Whatever he said, it isn't true.

My Mom's birthday was yesterday. I remembered, and promptly forgot.

"Is that bad?"

Five years ago on June twelth, nineteen ninety four, O.J. Simpson went for a ride in his white ford Bronco. I stopped watching the tele for 2 years. I also was listening to Nirvana's most popular album, I forget what it was called. I was also listening to Pearl Jam's "10". I think I have better taste now. Well, then again, I am rather vain. My mom used to sing that song to me. "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you. You're so vain!" My mother made sure that to me, it WAS about me. Thank you mom. I love you.

This is a weird admission but, i think my mom is dead. I really do. I could call someone and find out, but I don't want to know. Sorta like I could find out if my father is really my father. Some things you just don't want to find out.

I think I cried last week. I can't remember why. It broke my heart at the time. It wasn't about you. I could care less what you think.

This is more stuff I didn't write:

"The bunny fit into her torn snatch well, and struggled as I began to sodomize her with the cross. It was great on film."

I didn't write this either:

"sammie was certainly a portrait from one of masters with shit shoved up his nose and shit tears running from his eyes, shit dribbling from his chin and still chewing one of the more palatable sections of the shit in his mouth in a slow grinding motion like a cow happily chews her cud. These silly sphincter shenanigans were over as sammie had most assuradely learned his lesson. These were enlightened times when a functional retard could be taught to control his defecation!"

The thing that I find funny is that, I completely adore the people that wrote the above.

I know for myself that is okay.

5-27-99

I hesitate to speak about love because, it isn't for you, it is for me. This is mine. I think about us alot though. Funny how at some points in your life, you almost want to throw everything away just to be with another person, and that isn't the answer. I am not advocating anything silly like waiting until some special point in time or some "act," marriage or otherwise that will make everything acceptable. No. I just understand waiting until you know what you want, and loving yourself for it.

5-17-99

And as this rumble in my soul settles and the dust clears I somehow find I am not where I want to be. I can barely open my eyes after All this tiring work, and from what I can see. I feel I have landed in the wrong place. Eating Kashi Cocoa Pillows and Dulse... This doesn't taste very good. Strike a match.. light a candle... Throw the "candlelit shadow on the wall near the bed" into the past. Hear it on the radio. But, really. It this reality here? What is reality? Is it purely subjective? Are 'Friends' electric? Really? Why do people enjoy keeping it on this plane? Do you exist?

5-10-99

I am stressed alot cause I am constantly pushing myself to learn, I am working on getting a degree in philosophy now, as well as always pursuing knowledge. I am frustrated because I can never keep up. My musical output or my dramatics and painting always get swept aside. i can't keep up with everything I want to do. Also, horseback riding, or my chiropractic work. I can't seem to get it all in. I need to sort everything out. I just want to be happy.