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[18 May 2008|03:36pm] |
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music |
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the dresden dolls - girl anachronism |
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I'm gonna try to ressurect this, and blog when I'm in Israel. I'll see how that goes.
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[12 Nov 2006|10:54pm] |
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music |
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black eyed peas - pump it |
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Hmm. Life is funny and contradictory. I chastized myself today for not being depressed. I thought better of it later, but still, what a stupid thing to think. Everything is perfect. I suffer from no major illness. I have all my limbs and full brain capacity. I have a mighty American passport and an education.
Silly. I like to tell myself at times like these that this is simply "human nature".
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[11 Nov 2006|09:38pm] |
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music |
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rammstein - ich will |
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Whenever I'm upset for no reason I feel the need to come back to this. When I have a reason to be upset I fume alone, when I'm happy I chirp to myself. When I can't give a good enough reason for my depression, to me, the logical thing to do is to vent on paper (so to speak). Never vent to another person. I don't like to. Its tiring trying to explain myself perfectly, because I can settle for nothing less. I figure, venting on paper is better because I can entertain the notion that my exlaination makes everything perfectly clear to...myself, when I read this later and laugh at myself.
But then, one thing that ruins the purpose is that I have to be vague. I cannot name names, or events or anything suggestive of a name or a place. I have to thrive in abstraction lest some bored old friend come upon this and know how crazy I pretend not to be.
The logical solution to that problem is to make this journal private and use it for my own private therapy, but I can't bring myself to do that. I leave it public, with the knowledge that no one is interested and would ever spend time sifting through everything to find a name or some less than worthy gossip topic.
I leave it public for that same reason I think I may have touched upon above. As cliche as it sounds, when I care my soul, I'd fancy someone who just lost their job or got their wisdom teeth extracted has come upon this public website and decided to read it. Nevermind that such an action would make them a less than desirable reader. This is my fantasy! I can do what I like. They read all of this and decide that I am unique and special, a claim that most everybody makes. They decide I am perceptive and intelligent. That I am a bad speller and shouldn't use such big words if I don't know how. They know and understand me perfetly. Now, I know that this is impossible. No one does, has, or will know me PERFECTLY, but that's why it's a fantasy, and I just don't want to make the journal private for my crazy fancy. So there.
I think everyone has a deep desire to be known inside out and completely. It doesn't matter who person with this knowledge is. A friend, relative, lover, boyfriend, girlfriend, stranger, anyone. Just someone who "gets you". Because everyone is just terribly unique, and someone simply mst appriciate it.
That is why I'll be annoyingly abstract and vague.
I haven't described why I'm upset, but now that whole thing seems trivial compared to this silly need to be known.
I think everything is silly!
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| Take it on faith: |
[13 Oct 2006|01:21pm] |
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elysian fields - baby get lost |
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That seems to be all I can do with livejournal as of late, huh? Quote, complain, or lament the fact that I can't. I wonder if people have "real journals" that they use for real reasons, or if that whole concept is just so ridiculosly obsolete. I've tried SO many times too. Oh well.
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[06 Sep 2006|09:57pm] |
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david bowie - im afraid of americans |
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One huge regret of mine is that I never wrote any sort of Egyptian Travel Journal. I told myself I would before ever getting on the airplane, and even wrote a couple of pages when I got back. There was too much. On the second page I wasn't even finished talking about the staff of Egyptair . At the time I didn't have a laptop and I think that's the only way it woud have worked. You forget some useful day to day details.
Seriously, it would have been really, really interesting.
Next time.
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| Sympathy for Frederick and Scorn for Miranda |
[07 Jun 2006|01:49pm] |
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mood |
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cynical |
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old blind dogs - edward |
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"He makes me change, he makes me want to dance round him, bewilder him, dazzle him, dumbfound him. He' so slow, so unimaginative, so lifeless. Like zinc white. I see it's a sort of tyranny he has over me. He forces me to be changeable, to act. To show off. The hateful tyranny of weak people.
G.P. said it once.
The ordinary man is the curse of civilization.
But he's so ordinary that he's extraordinary."
"A feeling that everything must end, the music, ourselves, the moon, everything. That if you get to the heart of things you find sadness for ever and ever, everywhere; but a beautiful silver sadness, like a Christ face."
"She often went on about how she hated class distinction, but she never took me in. It's the way people speak that gives then away, not what they say. You only had to see her dainty ways to see how she was brought up. She wasn't la-di-da, like many, but it was there all the same. You could see it when she got sarcastic and impatient with me because I couldn’t explain myself or I did things wrong. Stop thinking about class, she'd say. Like a rich man telling a poor man to stop thinking about money."
- John Fowles, The Collector
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| Conceit |
[13 May 2006|09:36pm] |
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mood |
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depressed |
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bjork - hidden place |
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Am I a serf working your land now,
Growing your fare?
Will you cut off my ear and keep me?
Or am I the slave master and you the slave
In that case, I may do with you as you like,
But I don’t enjoy it as I thought I might,
You are a submissive slave,
And you would have to cut off my ear, earl or baron or lord of the manor,
Though I may not resist once you show me the knife.
Perhaps I only lost my ear in an alehouse brawl then.
But I have no hair to hide the wound.
When people look on me, they will think me a serf always.
But a rebellious slave may walk the streets aloof
You need only steal or kill or work with honesty
With a ripe ear when you visit the alehouse
Earl or baron or lord of the manor, I am not honest.
I steal and kill and you work with honesty
No, you would not cut off my ear if I handed you the knife and readied myself
But if I am the slave master, and you my meek slave,
I think you would not rebel.
I think you would hand me the knife and ready yourself.
Would I cut it off and cast you aside?
No, I would work your land well without my ear,
But then, I am not honest.
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[01 Mar 2006|06:06pm] |
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mood |
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stressed |
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music |
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Kothbiro - Ayub Ogada |
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“When one of the fishermen, lets say Tata Boanda, has good luck on the river and comes home with his boat loaded with fish, what does he do?”
“That doesn’t happen very often”
“No, but you’ve seen it happen. What does he do?”
“He sings at the top of his lungs and everybody comes and he gives it away”
“Even to his enemies?”
“I guess. Yeah. I know Tata Boanda doesn’t like Tata Zinsana very much, and he gives Tata Zinsana’s wives the most.”
“All right. To me that makes sense. When someone has much more than he can use, it’s very reasonable to expect he will not keep it all to himself.”
“But Tata Boanda has to give it away, because fish won’t keep. If you don’t get rid of it, it’s just going to rot and stink to high heaven.”
“That is just how a Congolese person thinks about money.”
- Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible
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khaubrich's journal