Am I more than you bargained for yet?
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week
Things are a little more poppy around here. Someone needs to give me better music to listen to.
The novel's winding down. It actually split in two half-way through the month. My novels tend to reproduce asexually. Part Sin City, part Kite, part Ultimate Rush, part whatever fucked up goings on occur in my head. I'm not sad to see these characters go and that worries me, that I haven't put enough emotion behind them, or that what's there is fake fake fake.
Ugh. It pains me to write such long short stories and call them novels.
My throat feels like sandpaper. I can't find enough of anything edible to swallow. The illness is fading but it still sucks ass.
Natalie slept with Matt. O_o Didn't see that one coming. She told me about how he was painfully awkward, and I laaaauuughed... She also bought me lunch. I feel vaguely crappy to know that I'll never repay her favors, but I don't think she cares.
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex
Cock it and pull it
I have so many short story ideas. I hate how the creative juices are squeezed from the pulp of hatred for something else I've already started. Hate breeds beauty breeds hate, and I can barely keep up with the words that want to just gush out of me in any direction but the one my novel's in.
Blar.
I really don't want to fucking write this novel anymore. :
Here I go round again again again
Think that I will never come down again again again
11.20.2005
In the spirit of NaNo, here is a re-cap of last night's event in not-so-fictional novel format:
Adrienne arrived, looking cold and shivery. She forgot her scarf, jacket and extension cord, and the writers area isn't looking so warm to her. Everyone was outside, gathered in a small group inside of four space heaters which aren't doing a very good job. No, not at all. It was 35 degrees outside, what was everyone expecting?
"Hey guys."
Silence.
"I'll just, uh, take a seat here then."
Silence.
Where were all of the prizes and candy and food everyone had promised? Bah.
"So it's fucking cold out here."
"Oh, are you cold? Here, let me lend you a blanket that's not mine because the owner's gone right now."
"Ok." Adrienne wraps the blanket around her. Slightly better.
Until the owner comes back.
"Nah, it's okay. Use it. It's cold out."
No shit. She had to con someone out of a bottle of Coke in trade for their electric blanket the same girl lent Adrienne.
Someone behind her begins playing musicals on his laptop speakers for all to hear. He sings along as well. Adrienne asks him to stop, please, my novel would eat those musicals for breakfast. He stops and then starts again. Twice.
The girl on her left takes everything she says seriously and literally, and mostly just wrong, all wrong.
"Yeah so my novel's about this cool guy who's paid to burn things down."
"Burning things isn't cool."
"No, the guy is."
"*ignores*"
"Please, PLEASE stop playing the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack and singing along."
"Sorry sorry lol ^_^;"
"What's that strange movie you're watching?"
"Oh," Adrienne answers, glad to hear that someone was interested in the movie she'd started watching for inspiration, and to ignore the cold that was eating away at her feet, "it's Sin City."
Marv then cut someone's head off with a saw and held it up for the camera to see.
"That movie's gross."
"Yeah, what kind of movie shows stuff like that."
Oh, the anger Adrienne felt at that moment.
"God, it's so smoky out here."
"*incessant coughing*"
Multiple offers to help her quell her coughing ensued.
"No, guys, I'm fine, just a little never-ending coughing that disrupts everyone repeatedly."
">:\"
And then the Municipal Liaison got mouthy with her for no reason. Adrienne had simply informed her of how people still hadn't posted their word counts on the board yet.
"Yeah well all of those people aren't here, they're watching the movie, so there's nothing I can do about it. >:("
"o_O Sry."
"Here, let me list off every name and what they're doing right now, even though it turns out I don't know where a quarter of these people are."
Adrienne returns to writing dejectedly. This wasn't so mediocre after all. It was just plain annoying and boring.
In comes the stupid girl for a last sniping with her stupid word-bullets.
"I've never seen a guy cosplay Harry Potter."
"I have."
"Oh, well I haven't seen guys cosplay, like, ever."
"Then obviously you've never been to Sakura Con."
Adrienne left after the girl's last comment, not wanting to freeze her clit off and put up with the idiocy of the writers around her any longer.
Fucking nerds. Why is it that the NERDS have to come out of the woodwork and ruin all of the events I enjoy. Anime cons, writing novels in a month, BDSM clubs. EVERYTHING.
I'll learn them all some social skills someday. Write a book called "Social Situations for the Painfully Clueless" and sell them at the aforementioned places. Hopefully I'll sell enough to make the world a better place and then I can die happily, knowing I reduced the percentage of yearly "deaths by angering those around me with my tactless, careless retardation."
Damn nerds.
(Pot and kettle have already met and are good friends in the universe my mind lives in, thank you very much.)
Adrienne arrived, looking cold and shivery. She forgot her scarf, jacket and extension cord, and the writers area isn't looking so warm to her. Everyone was outside, gathered in a small group inside of four space heaters which aren't doing a very good job. No, not at all. It was 35 degrees outside, what was everyone expecting?
"Hey guys."
Silence.
"I'll just, uh, take a seat here then."
Silence.
Where were all of the prizes and candy and food everyone had promised? Bah.
"So it's fucking cold out here."
"Oh, are you cold? Here, let me lend you a blanket that's not mine because the owner's gone right now."
"Ok." Adrienne wraps the blanket around her. Slightly better.
Until the owner comes back.
"Nah, it's okay. Use it. It's cold out."
No shit. She had to con someone out of a bottle of Coke in trade for their electric blanket the same girl lent Adrienne.
Someone behind her begins playing musicals on his laptop speakers for all to hear. He sings along as well. Adrienne asks him to stop, please, my novel would eat those musicals for breakfast. He stops and then starts again. Twice.
The girl on her left takes everything she says seriously and literally, and mostly just wrong, all wrong.
"Yeah so my novel's about this cool guy who's paid to burn things down."
"Burning things isn't cool."
"No, the guy is."
"*ignores*"
"Please, PLEASE stop playing the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack and singing along."
"Sorry sorry lol ^_^;"
"What's that strange movie you're watching?"
"Oh," Adrienne answers, glad to hear that someone was interested in the movie she'd started watching for inspiration, and to ignore the cold that was eating away at her feet, "it's Sin City."
Marv then cut someone's head off with a saw and held it up for the camera to see.
"That movie's gross."
"Yeah, what kind of movie shows stuff like that."
Oh, the anger Adrienne felt at that moment.
"God, it's so smoky out here."
"*incessant coughing*"
Multiple offers to help her quell her coughing ensued.
"No, guys, I'm fine, just a little never-ending coughing that disrupts everyone repeatedly."
">:\"
And then the Municipal Liaison got mouthy with her for no reason. Adrienne had simply informed her of how people still hadn't posted their word counts on the board yet.
"Yeah well all of those people aren't here, they're watching the movie, so there's nothing I can do about it. >:("
"o_O Sry."
"Here, let me list off every name and what they're doing right now, even though it turns out I don't know where a quarter of these people are."
Adrienne returns to writing dejectedly. This wasn't so mediocre after all. It was just plain annoying and boring.
In comes the stupid girl for a last sniping with her stupid word-bullets.
"I've never seen a guy cosplay Harry Potter."
"I have."
"Oh, well I haven't seen guys cosplay, like, ever."
"Then obviously you've never been to Sakura Con."
Adrienne left after the girl's last comment, not wanting to freeze her clit off and put up with the idiocy of the writers around her any longer.
Fucking nerds. Why is it that the NERDS have to come out of the woodwork and ruin all of the events I enjoy. Anime cons, writing novels in a month, BDSM clubs. EVERYTHING.
I'll learn them all some social skills someday. Write a book called "Social Situations for the Painfully Clueless" and sell them at the aforementioned places. Hopefully I'll sell enough to make the world a better place and then I can die happily, knowing I reduced the percentage of yearly "deaths by angering those around me with my tactless, careless retardation."
Damn nerds.
(Pot and kettle have already met and are good friends in the universe my mind lives in, thank you very much.)
11.19.2005
"The clouds of fog hung low in the sky, and the street lights swept them up and held them like a white tent over the city."
- Falling, by me. Bitches.
Yeah, all of my ugly bits are splattered here. But so are the pretty bits too.
(Those comments still incense me something awful. People's disgust and horror make me want to succeed even more, however, so the more hate sent my way, the more I want to take the sweet spoils of victory and rub it into their sour faces and small lives.)
The day my first novel hits bookshelves, I'm going to mail a free copy to Josiah's father.
Let's make a fast plan
Watch it burn to the ground
I try to whisper
So no one figures it out
I'm not a bad man
I'm just overwhelmed
Everything turns around so easily. Mum bailed me out, and i love her dearly for being the guardian/watchdog I needed and need and will need. She's so patient, waiting for me to sprout and bloom into the bold flower I've always been threatening to become. They're all watching.
I have a car. I would have pictures but I haven't asked Keith to take any yet with his newest new camera phone. It's a 2005 Nissan Sentra SE (special edition) with a subwoofer half the size of ME in the trunk. It's glorious. And the same winning blue color as those Subaru WRXs. Liquid on the road. So responsive, so agile, so easy to find myself going 80 on the freeway. The fastest I've taken it so far is 100, where you can hear the engine purring away like the freeway's scratching my car's belly.
I have a job and will have a job. Mum needed me down in Shithole, Washington at her business. I'm the only one whose work is accurate and productive; she's been having issues with the guys doing shoddy work and skipping steps. Pah.
Life gets better. The interviews and job offers roll in slowly. The writing improves, lengthens, expands in the universe and stakes space of its own on Pink Lady's hard drive. (I named my Apple Pink Lady. Har har. ;|)
And those by themselves
By choice
Or by somber war
No mistakes
All of my metaphors are turning into similes because adding the word like raises my word count, so you'll see my writing style go bonkers for a few months. Though I think everything's always unnecessary long due to the artistry of linguistics I pitch in every now and then. Words words words words. Something like that. You all are so nice to sit here and listen to this.
In fact, I should really be writing right now. I haven't quite caught up to my goal yet. I'm supposed to be finished on the 25th per the 2000 words a day. We'll see how that goes. My excel sheet is telling me I'm aiming for the 28th as things are right now.
Hmph.
E-mails of encouragement are... encouraged.
This is the time of your life
But you just can't tell
<3
- Falling, by me. Bitches.
Yeah, all of my ugly bits are splattered here. But so are the pretty bits too.
(Those comments still incense me something awful. People's disgust and horror make me want to succeed even more, however, so the more hate sent my way, the more I want to take the sweet spoils of victory and rub it into their sour faces and small lives.)
The day my first novel hits bookshelves, I'm going to mail a free copy to Josiah's father.
Let's make a fast plan
Watch it burn to the ground
I try to whisper
So no one figures it out
I'm not a bad man
I'm just overwhelmed
Everything turns around so easily. Mum bailed me out, and i love her dearly for being the guardian/watchdog I needed and need and will need. She's so patient, waiting for me to sprout and bloom into the bold flower I've always been threatening to become. They're all watching.
I have a car. I would have pictures but I haven't asked Keith to take any yet with his newest new camera phone. It's a 2005 Nissan Sentra SE (special edition) with a subwoofer half the size of ME in the trunk. It's glorious. And the same winning blue color as those Subaru WRXs. Liquid on the road. So responsive, so agile, so easy to find myself going 80 on the freeway. The fastest I've taken it so far is 100, where you can hear the engine purring away like the freeway's scratching my car's belly.
I have a job and will have a job. Mum needed me down in Shithole, Washington at her business. I'm the only one whose work is accurate and productive; she's been having issues with the guys doing shoddy work and skipping steps. Pah.
Life gets better. The interviews and job offers roll in slowly. The writing improves, lengthens, expands in the universe and stakes space of its own on Pink Lady's hard drive. (I named my Apple Pink Lady. Har har. ;|)
And those by themselves
By choice
Or by somber war
No mistakes
All of my metaphors are turning into similes because adding the word like raises my word count, so you'll see my writing style go bonkers for a few months. Though I think everything's always unnecessary long due to the artistry of linguistics I pitch in every now and then. Words words words words. Something like that. You all are so nice to sit here and listen to this.
In fact, I should really be writing right now. I haven't quite caught up to my goal yet. I'm supposed to be finished on the 25th per the 2000 words a day. We'll see how that goes. My excel sheet is telling me I'm aiming for the 28th as things are right now.
Hmph.
E-mails of encouragement are... encouraged.
This is the time of your life
But you just can't tell
<3
11.12.2005
Adrienne's back in high school.
LOL.
Isn't this just hilarious.
I no longer have a car. Or a job. But I need one to get the other. I have no money. I have NO MONEY. I can't pay for food. Josiah doesn't have a secure job. He's running out of money. Josiah has more debt that both of us could handle together. I'm going to voluntarily send my laptop back just to save him part of the burden I'm putting on him. We can't stay in this apartment anymore, we can't even pay for it. No one will hire me. I fucked up college and if I go back, I'll have to start over, and the only way to get money from my college fund is to BE in college, which is a waste of time, as I've already determined. The road trip is off, Japan is off, I'll never have the money for any of it.
I hate my life.
I have no motivation to do anything. Not even write. I just feel like nothing's gone right ever since July.
I was so looking forward to having a car, ANY car today, that I'm crying right now because I know that I can't pay for it.
It's very hard to say this, but I think I've dug myself a hole that I can't get out of, and the only thing I have as a resort is moving in with my mother.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
LOL.
Isn't this just hilarious.
I no longer have a car. Or a job. But I need one to get the other. I have no money. I have NO MONEY. I can't pay for food. Josiah doesn't have a secure job. He's running out of money. Josiah has more debt that both of us could handle together. I'm going to voluntarily send my laptop back just to save him part of the burden I'm putting on him. We can't stay in this apartment anymore, we can't even pay for it. No one will hire me. I fucked up college and if I go back, I'll have to start over, and the only way to get money from my college fund is to BE in college, which is a waste of time, as I've already determined. The road trip is off, Japan is off, I'll never have the money for any of it.
I hate my life.
I have no motivation to do anything. Not even write. I just feel like nothing's gone right ever since July.
I was so looking forward to having a car, ANY car today, that I'm crying right now because I know that I can't pay for it.
It's very hard to say this, but I think I've dug myself a hole that I can't get out of, and the only thing I have as a resort is moving in with my mother.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
11.10.2005
2am and she calls me cause I'm still awake:
Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?
I don't love him
Winter just wasn't my season
This song is directed at someone. You know who you are.
Cause you can't jump the track
We're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass
Glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe
I feel like the main character of my new novel, now. To the point where I can't write. I can't bring myself to. I can see all the bad things coming, and I don't want to like these characters any more than I already do because I know what's going to happen to them.
I feel so sad for these people in my head. Maybe it's just me feeling sorry for myself. So much for a policy of no pity.
There's a light at each end of this tunnel
You shout cause you're just as far in
As you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made
You'll just make them again
If you only try turning around
I don't know what Josiah's looking for inside me. So much pity, looking down on me like nothing ever gets to him. Like he's so high above me and everyone else.
You're in a relationship with someone you love only sometimes who loves you only sometimes. This is the best you could do?
I just want to tear him down. Wanna make him feel as bad as I do.
2am and I'm still awake writing a song
If I get it all down on paper
It's no longer inside of me
Threatening the life it belongs to
I do believe I'm going to cry when I end up writing the end of the novel. Saying goodbye to a whole cast of characters is always hard, but this one's going to be excruciating.
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary
Screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them
However you want to
By the by, things are going well as far as word production is going. Not quite sure if I'll have enough story for 50,000 but we'll see.
He hasn't told me where he's going for Christmas yet.
So many things to worry about. I don't even know what to make for Thanksgiving at my mother's house. I don't even know if I want to be around so many people unless my novel's finished and I'm on the recovery end of letting go.
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand
And breathe
Clover and Pockets are picking on each other, rolling circles around the carpet and mewing at each other. Oh, to be a cat with cat friends and people to feed me and pet me.
Just breathe
Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?
I don't love him
Winter just wasn't my season
This song is directed at someone. You know who you are.
Cause you can't jump the track
We're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass
Glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe
I feel like the main character of my new novel, now. To the point where I can't write. I can't bring myself to. I can see all the bad things coming, and I don't want to like these characters any more than I already do because I know what's going to happen to them.
I feel so sad for these people in my head. Maybe it's just me feeling sorry for myself. So much for a policy of no pity.
There's a light at each end of this tunnel
You shout cause you're just as far in
As you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made
You'll just make them again
If you only try turning around
I don't know what Josiah's looking for inside me. So much pity, looking down on me like nothing ever gets to him. Like he's so high above me and everyone else.
You're in a relationship with someone you love only sometimes who loves you only sometimes. This is the best you could do?
I just want to tear him down. Wanna make him feel as bad as I do.
2am and I'm still awake writing a song
If I get it all down on paper
It's no longer inside of me
Threatening the life it belongs to
I do believe I'm going to cry when I end up writing the end of the novel. Saying goodbye to a whole cast of characters is always hard, but this one's going to be excruciating.
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary
Screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them
However you want to
By the by, things are going well as far as word production is going. Not quite sure if I'll have enough story for 50,000 but we'll see.
He hasn't told me where he's going for Christmas yet.
So many things to worry about. I don't even know what to make for Thanksgiving at my mother's house. I don't even know if I want to be around so many people unless my novel's finished and I'm on the recovery end of letting go.
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand
And breathe
Clover and Pockets are picking on each other, rolling circles around the carpet and mewing at each other. Oh, to be a cat with cat friends and people to feed me and pet me.
Just breathe
11.06.2005
Do you
Do you wanna
Wanna go
Never fall in love. Ever.
I give this advice out all the time, I know.
The best thing that could ever happen to you is to be single and bullshit-free.
Fuck this shit forever. I don't need this, I don't need this, I didn't want this, why am I still here, what am I doing here.
...What AM I doing here, exactly?
You're lucky
Lucky
You're so lucky
The idealized side of love is so nice. Give me daydreams, give me sweet sleep with lacy dreams of holding hands. Real love I would trade in any day for idealized love. I am constantly disappointed. I am constantly upset, wishing he and I were something else, other people, different.
I will never be thin, he'll never have muscle. Standing in front of me naked like he was earlier, I could hardly look at him, I was so distracted. Pretty, sure. Maybe I'm pretty too. But ideal? Never.
Why is it always Shay and I with the issues.
We're so nice when we're on paper, but this story doesn't translate well into real life.
What do you say we just kill ourselves now and save the pain of the truth?
Lucky lucky
You're so lucky
11.03.2005
I hate anime fans.
There, I said it.
I hate you all. Every single last one of you.
The girls whose first, second and third loves are the three main guy characters from whatever new anime's just been released in Japan, who stay up all night reading slash fanfiction of and watching the latest fansubbed episode. The boys who devour the latest never-ending manga-turned-anime-turned-marketing-mecha, who masturbate endlessly to tentacle hentai and play the latest shonen video games that they import from Japan.
Yes, go ahead and download the crappy mainstream j-pop and j-rock. Mail your favorite singers fanart, and throw in random Japanese words while you're at it. Giggle with all of your sick high school Japanophile friends during lunch about how cute character x and character y would be together. Draw in your notebook and laugh at everyone who doesn't know what "Samurai Champloo" is when they see the manga on your desk. Newsflash: there are people exactly like me who are laughing at you in the same manner.
You all sicken me. I can't even begin to make you understand how irritating you make my life. Especially when you all post on the NaNoWriMo forums about how much of an "expert" you are on anime/manga when you don't even know the fucking language, or anything about everything that was released before 2002. I'd ridicule you all on the forums myself, but I tried that and all I got was a humongous backlash from every fan of Full Metal Alchemist and Bleach.
Go get raped and kill yourselves, thanks.
There, I said it.
I hate you all. Every single last one of you.
The girls whose first, second and third loves are the three main guy characters from whatever new anime's just been released in Japan, who stay up all night reading slash fanfiction of and watching the latest fansubbed episode. The boys who devour the latest never-ending manga-turned-anime-turned-marketing-mecha, who masturbate endlessly to tentacle hentai and play the latest shonen video games that they import from Japan.
Yes, go ahead and download the crappy mainstream j-pop and j-rock. Mail your favorite singers fanart, and throw in random Japanese words while you're at it. Giggle with all of your sick high school Japanophile friends during lunch about how cute character x and character y would be together. Draw in your notebook and laugh at everyone who doesn't know what "Samurai Champloo" is when they see the manga on your desk. Newsflash: there are people exactly like me who are laughing at you in the same manner.
You all sicken me. I can't even begin to make you understand how irritating you make my life. Especially when you all post on the NaNoWriMo forums about how much of an "expert" you are on anime/manga when you don't even know the fucking language, or anything about everything that was released before 2002. I'd ridicule you all on the forums myself, but I tried that and all I got was a humongous backlash from every fan of Full Metal Alchemist and Bleach.
Go get raped and kill yourselves, thanks.
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