This Is My True Freedom

:: 2005 7 July :: 6.48pm

it's odd to feel like you're asleep when you're awake.

:: 2005 4 July :: 2.19pm

july 4, 1776
even though i have no idea what it was ever like to not have what i have today, i appreciate the united states' struggle for freedom and democracy in past years. our country is not close to perfect, and a lot of us are jaded by the way things have been handled by our government - especially just the past 5 years. even so, we are all extremely lucky to be born into a country like ours, and i hope we don't lose sight of that.

don't let today be like every other holiday we celebrate - an excuse to drink - try to remember how amazing it is to live and breathe the way we do.

:: 2005 4 July :: 1.24pm
:: Music: Armor for Sleep - I have been right all along

Follow the railroad tracks, like a double-layered spine on the earths back

These are the demons that trick and coax
All the fingers thrust down thirsty throats
You swam through the rubble of ash and dust
With asphyxia ascending on your esophagus
While chorus lines and screams escape
Between bent bars on iron gates
And on jagged rocks, bones are splintered
Skin is filled with sand and slivers
And thoughts are lost as grip slips
Like words that burst through ripped lips
Traveling down rocky roads on cliffs edge
Take the corner and a deep breath
Warning signs of poison nuclear hazards
Toxic chemical spills, radioactive cadavers
And the dead walk alone across frozen ash
Twisted metal and broken glass
Dragging entrails across cracked cement
Trails of blood and ripped up flesh
Tangled in tightrope power line balance beams
You�ve got voltage in your veins
And electrostatic dreams
The signal vanished in a blizzard
Of airwave snow
And the antennas transmission withered
As it fell off the radio
The last thing she said was �Let me go�
As chains wrapped around her throat
She dropped a metal-inscribed help-me note
And it said, �Follow the railroad tracks,
Like a double-layered spine on the earths back�
And the search party looked for days
Following footsteps and fabric frays
Nothing was found within the caves
So we buried your memory in a shallow grave

:: 2005 4 July :: 11.57am
:: Music: At the Drive-In - Catacombs

With words that twist like razor wire

I buried hooks in your lips
To hold your mouth open
Your vocal cords ripped
And your voice box is broken
Reaching past cracked teeth
Down your throat to your guts
Giving you what you need
Filling you with razorblade cuts
Why go through all this trouble?
To see the pain in your eyes
I�ll use my tongue as the shovel
And bury you in lies
An arsenal of hemorrhaging words
Flow past my teeth like blood
Pouring out of veins that burst
Drowning you in a syllable flood
And I slice through your nerves
With my serrated tongue
While your organs burn
And your limbs go numb

:: 2005 3 July :: 2.09pm
:: Music: At the Drive-In - Pattern Against User

Caution Tape

Be careful what you say to a writer,
your words might end up on paper.

2 day[s] remain | the end is here

:: 2005 3 July :: 1.04pm

what is similar about music and life?
"well, when you think about it, what's the first thing that happens when a baby is born? they smack the baby on the rear-end and the baby cries. it's the sound, it's the breath of life. and everything we do has a sonic component. so, we're just organizing that sound into something that's sort of representative of the range of human emotions."

- billy corgan

:: 2005 1 July :: 6.32pm

fuck you, kalamazoo.

:: 2005 24 June :: 7.00pm

it's kind of like frankenstein having the cover of pride and prejudice.

2 day[s] remain | the end is here

:: 2005 22 June :: 12.59am

fine!
since the chicago tribune website is being a fool, here's the article i wanted you guys to see:

Billy Corgan wants his Pumpkins back

Published June 21, 2005

Fresh on the heels of the release of his first solo album, "TheFutureEmbrace," Chicago rocker Billy Corgan says he's breathing new life into an old dream: The Smashing Pumpkins.

In a full-page advertisement in today's Chicago Tribune marking the release of the new CD, Corgan says, "For a year now I have walked around with a secret, a secret I chose to keep. But now I want you to be among the first to know that I have made plans to renew and revive The Smashing Pumpkins. I want my band back, and my songs, and my dreams."

The Smashing Pumpkins broke up in 2000 after playing a final gig at The Metro. The band racked up record sales (more than 25 million, with 1995's "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" selling 4.7 million in the U.S.) and critical acclaim (two Grammys and several nominations) in a relatively short time; their debut album, "Gish," was released in 1991.

The Pumpkins have a tumultuous history. The band's lineup included drummer Jimmy Chamberlin, guitarist James Iha, bassist D'Arcy Wretzky and Corgan; Wretzky left after recording "Machina" in 2000, with former Hole bassist Melissa auf der Maur filling her spot in the tour, and Corgan has blamed Iha in postings on his Web site for breaking up the band.

After the breakup, Corgan and Chamberlin put together the rock quintet Zwan, which imploded in 2003 after only one album.

"TheFutureEmbrace" is set for release Tuesday.

:: 2005 20 June :: 7.31pm
:: Music: Coldplay - In My Place

Anatomy of a Hungry Eye

The licking corneas out of eyelid mandible slits
Desire a taste of color on retina lips
And a thousand autonomous eyes blink
With captivated bodies unable to think
And they're sharpening all of their eyelash-teeth
Sinking them into liquid scenes and the pictures beneath
Feeding on a perfect sense of sight
Color spectrum spills into the night
Trickling down god-blessed stained glass
With every property that acid-rain has
In the darkest of blue and red shades
Each tint and value a different taste
And they open eyelid jaws to capture vision
Pupil-throats translate images transmission
Thirsty and searching for a certain spectacle
That will fill a hunger for something beautiful

rina

:: 2005 18 June :: 9.44pm
:: Mood: contemplative
:: Music: everything's not lost - coldplay

its a delicate degree
the human being fascinates me.
on the one hand, you have rapists, murderers, thieves, molesters, serial killers.
whats-his-face peterson, the unabomber. jack the ripper.

and what kills me is that you can see the corruption on someone�s face.
the seven deadly sins.
glutton. covetousness. lust. anger. envy. sloth. pride.
but then, in the other hand, you have masterpieces of art, magnificent symphonies, prodigies, theatre, pbs.
aristotle, da vinci, mozart.

i wonder, though, if locke or hobbes was right.
because we are such multi-faceted creatures.
maybe there is some sort of undetectable chemical or hormone that is present in some, and not in others. maybe that�s the cause of violence and insanity.

and although i�d like to believe locke was correct, and that we were all born happy and peaceful and wonderful, its hard; because we have such lush history.
the romans. the vikings. the countless wars.

and you know how everyone says that history repeats itself?
that�s bull.
because, [this is a message for you, mankind] lets say someone makes ONE huge mistake. fine, okay. the world can deal, it was an accident.
but then some time later someone else thinks they can pull off what the other couldn�t, because we�ve advanced technologically. this guy, lets call him bob, totally blows it.
so the world is all �for shame, bob. learn from the past.�

THEN, adding insult to injury, another guy, fred, says bob was retarded, and since its fifty years later, he should try.
can you see the pattern?

and as of the moment my mind is already losing its direction & focus because i have the attention span of a small child on speed.
so im going to try and stop myself from losing the rest of my money to barnesandnoble.com .

3 day[s] remain | the end is here

:: 2005 17 June :: 3.15pm

Annihiliation

I can't wait for it to end. You will all be amazed at how pretty everything is in the silence. It's like black and white, but forever. It's not a lens, it's real.
It's coming, it's coming, it's coming...

6 day[s] remain | the end is here

:: 2005 13 June :: 9.25pm
:: Music: Finch

I am your father, your mother is this pen

Heavy eyes push uncontrollable looks
Release the pressure with needles and hooks
Pushing past all the instincts in nerves
With knives and glass, cut crescent curves
Replacing veins with tubes and wire
Like water in oceans and flames in fire
Which way should you move?
Trapped on the lines of this schism
Cut too deep and got caught on a groove
Hesitation gives way to paroxysm
Parallel to indecision
A mark on your cornea marks the depth of your vision
Near-sighted, frightened, and mortified
A tattoo on your chest says �[W]hor[e]rified�
And through all of this I realized
You�re just a part of a poem, a couple of lines
I�ve been holding you captive inside my thoughts like a tomb
Gestating ideas inside my mind like a womb
And finally, giving birth onto paper, you�re spilling out of my pen
You�re a creative process, and I don�t see an end
You�re a font with underlines
I can italicize
And bold you to make you seem like more than just a word
You're nothing more than twisting design, doesn't that hurt?
You are nothing more than spiraling inspiration
Conceived in my mind, you are my creation

:: 2005 11 June :: 3.54pm

pray for the world.

19 day[s] remain | the end is here

:: 2005 11 June :: 9.43am
:: Music: A Perfect Circle - Orestes

Tempting

I woke up in a room full of a thousand Madonna�s
And none of them could compare to your beauty, my goddess
Encircling, enclosing, and taking turns in their own ways
Not one tainted touch could compare to your embrace

2 day[s] remain | the end is here

:: 2005 9 June :: 11.22pm
:: Music: Taking Back Sunday

Amour Abuse

The teeth marks on my neck only prove you were restless
And the scars that form won't let me forget this
Take the pills out of my throat, bring me back to my senses
I never bruise, so you thought you'd leave something to last
Punched the mirror, wrote your name in blood and shards of glass
Maybe it was a little over the edge, but I love your art work
And the fingernails digging into my back just make me go harder
You could have wrote a nice little letter, but that's not your style
You love to confuse me with tears and a smile
A fist to the jaw and a kiss to the cheek
I would walk away now but I fear I'm too weak

Self-control was never my best quality

:: 2005 8 June :: 8.20pm
:: Music: Mars Volta - Cicatriz ESP

Bloodlines

Watch this serrated tongue
Slipping down your throat, into your lungs
Feel your skin crawl with beetles
Injected with poisovenomous needles

I caught your last breath to use it as my first
There's nothing like death to quench my thirst
I follow the tremors to see which hurts worst
There's nothing like watching a capillary burst

3 day[s] remain | the end is here

rina

:: 2005 7 June :: 1.58pm
:: Mood: curious
:: Music: fake palindromes - andrew bird

and that's not all
i hate that my brain is always set on "worst case scenario."
ie: driving on blue ridge parkway.

for the average human being, this should be a wonderful experience; fantastic views and scenery blowing by your car window.

and then there's me.
wondering what it would be like if the car veered sharply off the very, very steep mountain. what would i do to survive?
would the car get caught in tree branches, consequently causing a bough to snap some sort of fuel line that will cause a chain reaction, making the car blow up?

who knows. but i think of things like that all the time.

anyways, north carolina was pretty good. it was a welcome break from the constant heat that is the sunshine state.

which is kind of ironic, really, since it got around 9.5 inches of rain while i was gone. hm.

:: 2005 5 June :: 8.13pm
:: Music: Trust Company - The Reflection

Healing

Fill the cuts with shards of glass; salt is overrated. Use gasoline because alcohol isn't strong enough. Dress your wounds with flames. Stitches? Staples? No, duct tape would work best. Swallow razors, they do more damage than pills. And instead of injecting yourself with that needle full of whatever the latest cure is, try water.

:: 2005 5 June :: 4.14pm
:: Music: Mars Volta - Roulette Dares

Exoskeletal

Charging through layers of fabric, pushing through skin so reluctant to give in, but tearing easily despite it's defense. Such a tease. Crack the bones, rip the skin.

Wrapped around me, veins like electrical cords, surging through, I can feel the current. Was all this blood supposed to be a deterrent? This is not a dream. This is only a dream. Not a, (only a) dream. Choke.

Hair matted, sticking to the side of your face. Eyes rolled back inside of your head. Rug burn coating your knees. Bruises, soft reminders of the fun we had. When pain turns to pleasure, who calls the police to tell them to disregard the last call? Don't worry, I'll take care of it. You just go back to sleep.

Go back to sleep.

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Open your eyes, your tattooed eyes.
-------------I told you that you'd rise.

Good morning.