Music: still and again Annie Lennox BARE
Reading: still and again Yann Martel's Life of Pi... goes more quickly now since it is the "action" part
2003-08-28 - 3:51 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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Searching for "BARE"
Why don't I write in this when I am more awake??
Hah! nearly 4am. zzzz. Once again working on my html.Trying to figure out tables and columns. I think once I finally figured how to make them, imbed them, align them, put in fonts and images, I had no creativity left for what I wanted to say. So big raw unartful verbal diarhea (boy, you should have seen how many tries it took me to correctly spell that word!!) "A flailing mass of words" says the quote taped on my computer. Oh well... perhaps I will be more subtle tomorrow.
Today more sad than angry. Though the anger comes out when people try to step on my life and give me advice. Reacted badly when Lobelia gave me a note with books on rosaries, after having read my entry yesterday saying I wanted to get a rosary. I felt like she was foisting someone else's meaning on me. I absolutely hate that feeling. It used to happen a lot in art school... when I had to detail a future project to a prof. You could see the bulbs light up in their head... and of course what they imagined from my words was never what I intended to do. And then I felt my ideas were highjacked by their excited expectations. Invariably they were let down when my concrete result was on a different garden path altogether from their creative fantasies. At least I got good marks anyways for surprising the prof.
No energy to upload fun pics to put in my entry today. Though perhaps I should document what my studio looks like... I have only the energy to work, but not to clean up... to read incoming mail, but not to file it... to walk the dog, but not to brush it or vacuum the carpet. Oh dear.
Today I attempted to get to a liturgical shop on Sherbrooke street to find some Marys. But it was further down the street than I remembered. I got there at 5 past 6, but turns out they close at 5:30pm anyways.
I did go to Cheap Thrills to find another copy of BARE by Annie Lennox... having of course sent off my beloved copy. They don't carry Annie Lennox... too common I suppose... but I bought a cd of The Modern Lovers from 1971-73, The Ultimate Pebbles Collection ultimate '66 garage rock classics, and Ween's new album QUEBEC.
Then forward and onward to L'Echange, where I DID find a copy of BARE, and also a cd by Avril Lavigne.
Came home and listened to the whole pile. Jonathan Richman is Jonathan RIchman... yay! ... like the first song where he says he is not going to pick up some girl just to have sex... he wants to do it with a girl he has a thing for. AMEN. Ween is all over the board. The garage rock is fun, but for another day, and Avril Lavigne will have to wait til I'm in another mood. I ended up with Annie Lennox again, which is what I went out to get in the first place! Couldve saved a lot of bucks! LOL!
Sad and tired Sad and tired. I think I am coming out of my shock and disbelief and now realizing that ob is really gone. She's just totally fucked up. Alcohol problem. Personality disorder. Depressive. But all of those things could be dealt with if they didnt fuck me over and hurt me personally. Everyone is fucked up. And fucked up people are wonderful and lovable too. But not at my expense. Sad so sad.
I feel like I had a wonderful horse that I loved. A record-breaking horse, a beautiful loving horse. And now its leg is broken and the thing to do is shoot it. But when you shoot the horse (ie kill the relationship... NOT the person!), you have put an end to the suffering.. but not an end to your own pain. The horse is dead, and no more future to the horse. Now you must walk alone. And watch other people riding by. But mostly just miss the warm brown eyes, the life rippling in its flanks as you moved together, the promise of where you will go, the memories of what you shared already, the smell, the sounds, the lips against your hand nibbling on the sugar lump.
Fuck, one would think I have a thing for horses. When actually I just have a good imagination.
Tomorrow I must write entries on my website about "ego", and "animal flight distances" and "animal dominance hierarchies". Still havent written about "in" "love".
Another day. Another week. I wish it were 1am. I would go in my morrocan indian livingroom, smoke the hookah, read my book with a Corona with lime, and cry and cry and cry.
Goodnight dearest diary. I wish you had a voice that I would know and love to sooth me to sleep.
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily