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And the internet is subjecting yourself to the knife   
10:06pm 12/01/2004
 
mood: his wrath will be terrible...
I mean, like, to quote my Anthro professor: "I hate the internet. You try to do a simple search and a fountain of filth just spews out at you." Obviously I'm misquoting, and I can't type the dramatic pauses and word elongations he used, but you get the idea. Every time I click the little E (because I'm not true enough to use any special browser) I brace myself for that filth. I mean, everyone and their mother has a site to sell something now, so pretty much every search that isn't on google tells me what I'm not buying that I should be. And all google finds is stupid geocities sites, or cleverly worded porn sites, or some other waste. Not a universe of information, but the illusion of information, and the promise of porn. Speaking of, it was really nice to leave for a few hours, with my computer on, but no windows open, and I come back with an advert for rape-porn open on the desktop. What was even more embarrassing was that I had someone with me, but she's true kult enough that it didn't faze her (I mean, she could take goatse.cx without flinching, and rotten.com without a problem).
Subjecting one's thoughts to the internet yields filth. Trying to play by the rules of the internet bends one's mind toward what the internet can do. I mean, yeah, contact stuff is great and all, but unless you don't know what computers do (like I keep getting all this stuff saying I have diseases on my hard drive), you end up with a plague-ridden box sitting on your desk. And if computers end up as the dominant element of our society, and unless someone manages to shatter our civilization [knock on wood], we'll end up with an aristocracy of the hard drive. I mean, not to mention all those people who don't have computers to begin with. The only reason that upsets me is that I just can't be assed to give too many shits.
+: communication, dissemination of illicit information, an excuse not to use snail mail. One of the fun things about that is that I can type words like 'bomb,' 'terrorism,' ' Osama bin Laden is my spiritual guide,' and then, Poof! The US government reads my live journal too! Maybe I should bitch about how depressed I am, so they don't think it's any more than the usual high school live journal bullshit that I can't stand to read. I mean, sure, the lame kids need to feel loved too, so they can have live journals, and talk to all the other lame kids across the country, and plan their suicides, or school shootings (speaking of...don't hear much about those any more, do you? did they go out of style? I thought the losers who get chased by the jocks didn't care about style)
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes.
The internet makes me want to punch my monitor [lizard], smash my face against the wall, which is close enough, because as soon as I get out of this chair, I will be restored with the capacity to lovehatedream or just shake and smile as THAT feeling rages through me, that feeling that comes from fucking (I assume), having a screaming break up, or murder (probably similar), or building a model house, or playing with toy soldiers, or drawing a picture, or eating fucking applesause and ravioli, for fucks sake. That restoration, explosion, inalienable state that I have been trying to describe since I became a high-school journal keeper, but has gone back into nothingness with words, only to emerge when wordlessness is again king.
Sit in silence to embrace the beyond that's within...Done:
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes,
Pigeons on my eyes.		  
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The Alphabet is Like Crack   
01:40am 10/01/2004
  Some people tell me they 'can't do math.' As usual, I give them a placating look, and say something to the effect of 'maybe if you weren't so stupid, I would talk to you more.' Only in different words. Because I'm not that True Kult yet. I decided to alphabetize all my CD's (which usually takes at least an hour), and I realized that the letters don't stick in my head like it would seem they should. So, either no one can really alphabetize quickly, or I'm the only one. The former seems more likely, because since I was like 10 every time I thought I was unique in being fucked up it was just some minor little thing that everyone went through. Since I realized that, I began to crawl out the little hole that I thought was a passage straight down to the 15th circle. I wonder, what do other people see in their heads when they alphabetize things.
The only bad thing about having so many CD's is that my back hurts by the time I'm done alphabetizing.
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ		  
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the return of the king   
11:43pm 04/01/2004
  nate + oberlin = tuesday PM together again. Mit Risk und viele neue schwarz metal.
Battle on brave legions.		  
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Someone is out there   
05:39pm 30/12/2003
  Dani reads my live journal!  
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Just in case   
11:14pm 28/12/2003
 
mood: boiling with unchecked rage
Christmas break is like summer break. Like every movie ever where someone goes somewhere. 'There is nothing for me here.' Being what they say when they get back.
And I'm remembering the time I had a prospie stay with me, which, if I didn't get the $10 for it, would have sucked huge ass, and I come in, and what is he doing? Chatting with his friends on AIM. On my damn computer, while he is visiting a fucking college. I mean, it was a thursday night or something, so it's not like there was anything terribly exciting, but christ. AIM while you're a prospie? I kept expecting his dad (who brought him) to come and flip out at me for not entertaining his son enough. I haven't seen him this year.
And I remember another time, I was sitting in someone's room, and they were chatting on something or another, probably with about 15 or 20 people at once, knowing her (and I bet they were all lamenting about something), I mean, if you're gonna be a shepard, fine, but still, you're a social slut. Grow up, and live in a cave. So she was typing, and she just looked like, a robot or something. Millions of interactions, instant connection, no movement whatsoever. When we don't even have to type to talk to people, much less be in the same state as them, that's when I start contacting people who aren't in the same place I am.
I'm hoping at least the quad will be reading this, so I can start writing terrible, melodramatic things about each and every one of you. Then I will be famous.		  
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07:44pm 20/12/2003
  Nate=20 today.  
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Making a mix CD   
07:31pm 18/12/2003
  Oh my god. I'm making a Nirvana mix CD. With all the Nirvana songs people don't hear much, because I am a fucking hipster, I just get to hide behind a veneer of I don't give a shit. That's the real reason I like black metal. Because no one else can. Besides Mike and Carly. And the band.  
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  azgara