Nothing to see here. Move along.
My head hurts. My back hurts more. I appear to be having yet another identity crisis.
Taking stock, looking back over the years: Never had a proper job, everything always casual temporaryminimumwagebollocks. I try to go to Uni, and they pull the rug out from under my feet, they dick me around with this unprofessionl crap and I let them. I move here, hoping for a fresh start-- I can't even get a job mopping fucking floors. I try to build something, it falls down. Every time. Ever feel like the universe is sending you a message? What if the message is "Screw you, loser"? What do you do then?
Where do you go?
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
When you know you should say something, but you're not sure what to say, because anything you do say is just going to set everyone off again... there should be a word for that.
Screw all this.
Why do I even try to communicate with the world? Sometimes, seriously, I think I had the right idea at 17: Stay in your room, close the door, don't talk to anyone unless you absolutely have to.
Screw all this.
Why do I even try to communicate with the world? Sometimes, seriously, I think I had the right idea at 17: Stay in your room, close the door, don't talk to anyone unless you absolutely have to.
Saturday, October 18, 2003
Friday, October 17, 2003
Arrgh.
No, really, arrgh. Seriously, really badly arrrrrrrgggggh.
I don't wanna go into too many details, but I don't think it's a breach of confidence to mention that I'm in the middle of a major-- what? Not really a fight, more of a communications breakdown-- with a very dear friend.
Therre's nothing like the fear that someone's never going to speak to you again to make you really, really appreciate them. You think about everything they've done for you, everything they are.
Like I say, Argggh.
No, really, arrgh. Seriously, really badly arrrrrrrgggggh.
I don't wanna go into too many details, but I don't think it's a breach of confidence to mention that I'm in the middle of a major-- what? Not really a fight, more of a communications breakdown-- with a very dear friend.
Therre's nothing like the fear that someone's never going to speak to you again to make you really, really appreciate them. You think about everything they've done for you, everything they are.
Like I say, Argggh.
Thursday, October 16, 2003
Yay!
The other day I found an old computer disc in amongst my stuff. Turned out to be chocka with stories that I wrote way back in '99. I thought I'd have a hard time getting into the files, because I wrote them on another wordprocessing package. But StarOffice can handle them just fine. I'm well chuffed. They're not good enough to sell, not without some comprehensive re-writing, but I may put some of them up on my board or my Lj or whatever. I'd forgotten all about some of them. I'll probably bung a couple of them up tonight.
It's odd, reading them after all this time. It feels like a different person wrote those words.
The other day I found an old computer disc in amongst my stuff. Turned out to be chocka with stories that I wrote way back in '99. I thought I'd have a hard time getting into the files, because I wrote them on another wordprocessing package. But StarOffice can handle them just fine. I'm well chuffed. They're not good enough to sell, not without some comprehensive re-writing, but I may put some of them up on my board or my Lj or whatever. I'd forgotten all about some of them. I'll probably bung a couple of them up tonight.
It's odd, reading them after all this time. It feels like a different person wrote those words.
Tuesday, October 14, 2003
Awwwright! No seziure!
Must've been a petit mal or something. That was okay. I could handle more of those. Shame I had to turn in and sleep through it, but it was about 3am my time and I was cream crackered.
Today I woke up feeling out of sorts tho'. I'm consumed with a desire suddenly to make something happen in my life. I don't know what I want it to be but I feel like my mind and my whole body are turning into tapioca. Think I'll start having my midlife crisis now, while I'm still young enough to enjoy it.
Must've been a petit mal or something. That was okay. I could handle more of those. Shame I had to turn in and sleep through it, but it was about 3am my time and I was cream crackered.
Today I woke up feeling out of sorts tho'. I'm consumed with a desire suddenly to make something happen in my life. I don't know what I want it to be but I feel like my mind and my whole body are turning into tapioca. Think I'll start having my midlife crisis now, while I'm still young enough to enjoy it.
Uuuummmm.
Think I might be going to have another fit. I haven't had one since Cork, maybe as much as 8, 9 months ago(?) I shall be really fed up if I have one.
Been feeling a bit odd today, sort of slow and ditzy. Maybe just lie down. Finished that stupid story, thanx be to grud.
Yep, evrythings gone all colours again. rats.
Think I might be going to have another fit. I haven't had one since Cork, maybe as much as 8, 9 months ago(?) I shall be really fed up if I have one.
Been feeling a bit odd today, sort of slow and ditzy. Maybe just lie down. Finished that stupid story, thanx be to grud.
Yep, evrythings gone all colours again. rats.
Monday, October 13, 2003
Saturday, October 11, 2003
The writing is going well.
The writing is going very very well. I did the bits that I posted over on my board, oooobviously, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. I was a bit leery about chucking those pieces out on my board, because it renders them unsaleable to a lot of webzines (most places want exclusive rights).
But now it feels like that was the right thing to do-- like a sacrifice to the gods of writeyness. Two or three people seem to have enjoyed them, and that's two or three more than if the pieces had just stayed on my wordprocessor.
Plus, I've come over all prolific. Just today I've been kicking the old novel around a bit and I've written half of two short stories. I reckon I should finish one of them tonight-- well, the first draft, anyway.
And it feels good.
The writing is going very very well. I did the bits that I posted over on my board, oooobviously, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. I was a bit leery about chucking those pieces out on my board, because it renders them unsaleable to a lot of webzines (most places want exclusive rights).
But now it feels like that was the right thing to do-- like a sacrifice to the gods of writeyness. Two or three people seem to have enjoyed them, and that's two or three more than if the pieces had just stayed on my wordprocessor.
Plus, I've come over all prolific. Just today I've been kicking the old novel around a bit and I've written half of two short stories. I reckon I should finish one of them tonight-- well, the first draft, anyway.
And it feels good.
Teenaged boy arrested for saving girlfriend's life.
Story here.
Okay, so say you're a 15-year-old kid with asthma. Your girlf also has asthma. You guys take the same meds. One day your squeeze forgets her inhaler-- bit dopey, but we've all done it-- and she has an attack. She's in a bad way, so, rather than watch her fight for breath, pass out and die, you lend her your inhaler.
She says you've saved her life. Her mum thinks you're a regular knight in shining armour. Your school, on the other hand, has you arrested because of their braindead "zero tolerance" anti-drugs policy.
This kid's being threatened with expulsion and quite possibly a stretch in juvenile hall because authorities at this school would rather let a 15-year-old choke to death on her own phlegm than see one of their students show a little gumption. Initiative is bad, m'kay?
Wankers.
(Via Stupid Evil Bastard and elsewhere.)
Story here.
Okay, so say you're a 15-year-old kid with asthma. Your girlf also has asthma. You guys take the same meds. One day your squeeze forgets her inhaler-- bit dopey, but we've all done it-- and she has an attack. She's in a bad way, so, rather than watch her fight for breath, pass out and die, you lend her your inhaler.
She says you've saved her life. Her mum thinks you're a regular knight in shining armour. Your school, on the other hand, has you arrested because of their braindead "zero tolerance" anti-drugs policy.
This kid's being threatened with expulsion and quite possibly a stretch in juvenile hall because authorities at this school would rather let a 15-year-old choke to death on her own phlegm than see one of their students show a little gumption. Initiative is bad, m'kay?
Wankers.
(Via Stupid Evil Bastard and elsewhere.)
Also from underreported.com: USA: Portland police pepper-sprayed, tazered and handcuffed a blind disabled 71 year old. According to the woman in question, Eunice Crowder: “They pepper sprayed me in my prosthesis... it ran through and down my nose so fast.”
The prosthesis in question being Ms. Crowder's glass eye. Ouch.
The prosthesis in question being Ms. Crowder's glass eye. Ouch.
Secret Spells Borebie
This is just disgusting-- more disgusting than Borebie's normal background level of disgustingness. As if any mage worthy of the name would wear such restrictive and impractical clothing for a ritual. Gold lamé flares? I ask you. And do you call that a cauldron? Puh-lease!
(Via underreported.com)
This is just disgusting-- more disgusting than Borebie's normal background level of disgustingness. As if any mage worthy of the name would wear such restrictive and impractical clothing for a ritual. Gold lamé flares? I ask you. And do you call that a cauldron? Puh-lease!
(Via underreported.com)
Friday, October 10, 2003
Random.
Was nudged in the direction of Found Magazine today. I haven't looked at it for a while, but it made me think. I need to be doing stuff, getting stuff out there. I've started posting up poems and stories on my board but I need to be doing something else. Maybe make pictures, slogans, notes, drop them in public places? Buy a cheap tarot deck like the IJJ or something, drop the cards around town until there's none left. Or maybe just ordinary cards, I don't know. The tarot can upset people who aren't used to it. If you've grown up with it, like me, the images are old friends but for people who aren't up on that side of things they can be disturbing.
IK need to be doing something... something fresh. I'm so sick of this old crap that's being thrown in my face all the time by people who act like I'm supposed to be mindblown by it. It's like having someone come up and tell you an old, bad joke, and when you don't laugh they tell it again... and again... and agian...and they never, ever shut up.
I get it. I just don't want it.
So anyway, I want to do, to make, to feel... the way they're always telling me that they're going to make me feel, right before they tell me the one about the fly in the soup for the thirtieth time. I need to cut loose; I've been hiding for too long.
Was nudged in the direction of Found Magazine today. I haven't looked at it for a while, but it made me think. I need to be doing stuff, getting stuff out there. I've started posting up poems and stories on my board but I need to be doing something else. Maybe make pictures, slogans, notes, drop them in public places? Buy a cheap tarot deck like the IJJ or something, drop the cards around town until there's none left. Or maybe just ordinary cards, I don't know. The tarot can upset people who aren't used to it. If you've grown up with it, like me, the images are old friends but for people who aren't up on that side of things they can be disturbing.
IK need to be doing something... something fresh. I'm so sick of this old crap that's being thrown in my face all the time by people who act like I'm supposed to be mindblown by it. It's like having someone come up and tell you an old, bad joke, and when you don't laugh they tell it again... and again... and agian...and they never, ever shut up.
I get it. I just don't want it.
So anyway, I want to do, to make, to feel... the way they're always telling me that they're going to make me feel, right before they tell me the one about the fly in the soup for the thirtieth time. I need to cut loose; I've been hiding for too long.
Tingle.
I get this tingly feeling in my back sometimes, from a spot around my shoulderblades down to my tailbone. I've been getting it on and off since I was a kid, but this year it's got much stonger. It's as if there's a limb there, as if I should be able to, I dunno, extrude tentacles or something. Sometimes if I've been doing a lot of magickal work it gets very strong, very intense (for somereason I typed that as "insense"; how?). Right now I can barely feel it. Had a few drinks last night; I mentioned before how alcohol seems to drop me down to a lower level of consciousness.
I don't know. It's just this thing, I suppose.
I get this tingly feeling in my back sometimes, from a spot around my shoulderblades down to my tailbone. I've been getting it on and off since I was a kid, but this year it's got much stonger. It's as if there's a limb there, as if I should be able to, I dunno, extrude tentacles or something. Sometimes if I've been doing a lot of magickal work it gets very strong, very intense (for somereason I typed that as "insense"; how?). Right now I can barely feel it. Had a few drinks last night; I mentioned before how alcohol seems to drop me down to a lower level of consciousness.
I don't know. It's just this thing, I suppose.
Thursday, October 09, 2003
Talking of microwaves...
Help! Hong Kong police-terrorist's use Brain Voice Read / Write Machine Murders Hong Kong people, please email the world.
(via Jack Fear, diepunyhumans.com, and pretty much everywhere else.)
I love this. Reminds me of another site I linked to a year or so back... can't be bothered to trawl thru my archives but I think this is it:
Alan Yu's Reports
"Part II-A4: The invisible personnel are tiny and can levitate. Thus, by wearing a propulsion device on their back, they can move as flying ants. So, they can secretly fly onto the target's head to mind control the target, manipulate the target's bodily functions & emotions, read the target's mind, implant thoughts and sent microwave voices into the target's head anywhere."
Flying invisible ant-sized rocket propelled spies. How come this isn't a computer game yet? It would rock! You could do like a Total War type thing, only instead of your teeny little armies fighting on earth landscapes they'd fight amidst the convultions of a giant brain, or a hugely magnified ear or something. I'd buy it.
Help! Hong Kong police-terrorist's use Brain Voice Read / Write Machine Murders Hong Kong people, please email the world.
(via Jack Fear, diepunyhumans.com, and pretty much everywhere else.)
I love this. Reminds me of another site I linked to a year or so back... can't be bothered to trawl thru my archives but I think this is it:
Alan Yu's Reports
"Part II-A4: The invisible personnel are tiny and can levitate. Thus, by wearing a propulsion device on their back, they can move as flying ants. So, they can secretly fly onto the target's head to mind control the target, manipulate the target's bodily functions & emotions, read the target's mind, implant thoughts and sent microwave voices into the target's head anywhere."
Flying invisible ant-sized rocket propelled spies. How come this isn't a computer game yet? It would rock! You could do like a Total War type thing, only instead of your teeny little armies fighting on earth landscapes they'd fight amidst the convultions of a giant brain, or a hugely magnified ear or something. I'd buy it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)