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no more pitying the next guy who totals my car [31 May 2007|12:36pm]
[ mood | aggravated ]

i am SO SO SO ANNOYYEEEDD
i heard my phone ring so many fucking times this morning and i just thought god it's those insurance people...and yes it was. yes. it was the insurance people again. again. they call so many many times. i forced myself to go back to sleep. there's no reason to get out of bed. just pay me for my fucking car, get these people off my back, i just want you all to stop bothering me. a taste of post graduation life. i have to deal with so many logistical bullshit things. scour for jobs on the internet. work. find health insurance. pay rent. rent a car. give them my life savings. blah blah blah blah blah. i put on my happy play list and hope to god it won't be another miserable day. and i'm in pain. i'm in pain and i have no pain medication and no way to get any. it's a drag, it really is.

duplass brothers stop making films. now. [22 May 2007|11:25pm]
[ mood | tired ]

post before i go to sleep.
so tired.
went on this amazing hike with mike and jenny today to point reyes, ran around in the ocean, scrambled down some rocky slopes. pelicans, deer, chipmunks, turkey buzzards, human beings. "i'm all nature now" according to shelma. waterfalls abound. yosemite inspires myth; if i could have camped there longer everything would have made sense, the glaciers, the ravens, the mist. during this entire week all i've been thinking is "randomness is very difficult to achieve. organicization is key." iceberg lettuce is cute. a puzzling decision is deciding whether one can have a kindred spirit with a cat-owl. when i came home i watched about 5 minutes of this uber hipster indie flim set in brooklyn called puffy chair and decided i've never seen a worse movie. sex and the city was amazingly trite. new york city still has all the appeal to me but my encounter with the plumber-man made me seriously question the role of art in this world. why should there have to be service workers? why should rich people exist with their little lives and despairs. why should i feel so much shame? i tried to tip him for coming to fix the poo that exploded in my bathroom but he said "no, you need it more than me" and i felt so so small. poo was exploding out of the shower drain, gurgling under the crevice of the bathroom door, threatening to touch the corners of my lush green carpet. i stood there and watched him work.

der kleinen eisbar grows up, becomes less cute, more solid [17 May 2007|12:42pm]
[ mood | predatory ]

al and vit have inspired me to post again. LJ is so freaking crazy now. embed media? insert table? "back in the day...all we could do was write"

i am officially done with undergrad now. after my paper was done at around 5 i ran around "manic" and on such euphoria i thought i could write long research papers on virginia woolf and androgyny for the rest of my life. and then i mixed all the cointreau in half a thing of diet dr pepper, ate some sushi, did some shady transactions in oakland and blew some steam! i am just so thankful for everything, oh god, i wonder when the terror is going to set in. there's still so much i have to do now, look for a place to live, register for summer school, figure out my life. yeah.

comparing me from beginning of semester till now, i'd say i'm pretty proud of me. i haven't become a needy girlfriend to another boy. i don't parasite off mike and his company. i don't dread going home. i don't have secrets. i can stay up for hours on my own. I CAN BE ALONE. i'm like kleinen eisbar knut without his caretaker. i am a solitary animal capable of enjoying others' company. i have had healthy sex and abuse myself with considerable care. i have had dinner parties and made girlfriends. i have confided. i am going to listen to good music before everyone else and read poetry for dinner. i am going to write an amazing piece of...something. my horoscope has advised me to go. so i am going to travel the world and procure a boyfriend in each country. particularly norway. preferably someone named erik or philip. i will go to australia as an independent soul. on the airplane, i will put on my earphones and imagine the subjunctive tense, solidifying. with every mile i cover, a deeper shell will twist, a deeper cave behind. my life will roll out like sheafs of paper, a tongue to speak all languages, and feet to know the stories of moss brick. i will hike machu pichu. i will party in rio. i will drink mojitos. i will eat french macaroons. i will have sprinkles and toast and good coffee. i will miss home. paradoxically, the nostalgia will color each city with romance and longing and i will write more. i will listen to music with lyrics i don't understand. i will be inspired. i will read poetry on trains by finding patterns in people. rhyme in their faces. assonance from their fingertips. color under their necks. form riding along a left track, all together, me included.

so look away, love! this year isn't for you.

[12 Sep 2006|09:32pm]

saw the rise and fall of the rising dead. a group out of ny. liquid junctions. subway dances. poetic prosody, ps122. saw blue velvet. i couldn't hlep but be both horny and grumpy at the same time. wondered if i'd ever get stabbed walking through the tenderloin so late at night. because it's happened before. the man at the bakery who looks at me and then rubs his penis against the counter. something sad when i heard the little asian girl say "merci maman". post-colonial bullshit. fantasizing about the secret life of trinh minh-ha and jean-paul boudier. how does she smile when they chat about this and that theory. looks too soft-spoken to fuck passionately. and then L never comes home. the new pretty girl keeps wanting to eat his icecream. drunk on jager again to complain, about what. about never kissing me enough or something like that. i wish i was more like i am at the bakery, all smiles and stupidity. but really life of a punch card slave is...they all work too fast. calm down says tigor. drives a mercedes and brings us sushi. man who rubs his penis against the counter. L never comes home. It's vraiment triste to spend all day sitting. When I'm sick of reading I buy an item of clothing. Overly productive. Make friends in between times. Rachel and Eric came into the bakery clinging to each other like trees. Tried to do the slick thing and give them free goods, only Rachel didn't understand my cunning. Class, oh class. I will forge in the smithy of my soul--what. Just love and desire and pleasures. Tu aimes, Tim? Yes, yes already ca me plait. Everyone in the house ne me plait pas. They are a bunch of uninteresting hacks. Someome will read this and show everyone but I don't care, it's already happened before. wrote some play about some theory. nobody gets it. says they're "excited" and "terrified". don't know if i've got enough energy to care. wrote some poems about some feeling i had looking out the window again .nothing very interesting. can't wait to get out of here, go to new york. 

[03 Feb 2006|05:25pm]
what are you guys doing this summer???

give me some ideas

[04 Dec 2005|04:55pm]
jealousy is the worst feeling in the world. and then i wish people were jealous of me. sin sucks.

[08 Nov 2005|08:38am]
i binge on school and then i want to vomit.

[06 Nov 2005|08:22pm]
oh my god i'm going to fucking kill myself. this is why i hate humanity. this guy posted this ridiculous post in the berk community about hipster dance lessons and "if you saw 1000 suns this saturday then you saw us up front and in charge...wish you could be as hip as us?" and now everyone thinks i'm part of this dipshit crusade. ugh i hate the dumbass freshmen here.

[23 Oct 2005|09:02pm]
so the play is over now...
*sigh
weird that i'm so sad. i was really starting to love the girls.
and omg i think i have a lazy eye now too.

[20 Sep 2005|03:05pm]
My mom is an amazing writer.

lips "link pink"

=)

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