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1 head trauma | open up your skull

[17 Aug 2004|11:42am]
Happy Birthday to lunar_dolphin!

1 head trauma | open up your skull

[03 Aug 2004|01:03pm]
[ mood | amused ]

The first was under 5' tall and hefty, the second looks like an Aunt Unice. Urine colored, frizzy hair and a fushia flowered dress clothing a jiggly bum. There's gotta be a fox along the way sometime. Or a young woman, at least. A guy maybe? I'm having problems keeping a straight face as they exit. They're sweetly comical.

Somewhat passionate. I picture Aunt Unice dancing up and down with glee, her greasy red lips puckered dangerously in coquettish triumph. Her frizz electrifying with joy as she books freight at highly a profitable margin. Oh dear.

Oh dear, she'd be great.

I'm not passionate about this job. I stubbornly tried to be, but nothing came of it. Strangely, now, I'm at my peak. With 9 business days to go, I finally rock at it. What the hell's up with that?

3 head traumas | open up your skull

Flaws [16 Jul 2004|03:44pm]
[ mood | peaceful ]

K was telling us a story about how someone in her apartment building commited suicide.. her eyes widened for effect as she went on to decribe that she almost rented that apartment upon first moving in. I'm entranced with how some people can be pure woman in an instant. I used to find this sensationalism offensive.. I'm not sure why the change.

Speaking of concentrated idiocy: thongs. I can't stand the bunching over the surface of my bum when wearing light coloured or thin dress pants. I fell for the delicate looking, string torture device. If I squeeze my inner groin muscles, I can feel it pinch my vagina. I do this occasionally, like tapping my fingers or batting the mouse back and forth between my fingers. I've gotten one episode of irritation in the past, but I don't cut back on usage. Silly things.
J has a pimple over his right eyebrow and delightful stubble on his chin. Messed up hair and smudgy glasses. He used to have a white hair growing in his eyebrow as well. About a week into working with him, I noticed it gone. Maybe I imagined it. He was a fool to pluck it out. People have no idea how their little flaws are so adored.

3 head traumas | open up your skull

[29 Jun 2004|12:44pm]
[ mood | sick ]

I don't even like the word "sausage". Disgusting, intestine-encased clammy meat medley. The fatter, the grosser...

There's something phallic there.

3 head traumas | open up your skull

[10 Jun 2004|03:37pm]
[ mood | horny ]

Oh ma lord. J. has a twin brother. I may just explode into hot goo right here and now.

[07 May 2004|02:57pm]
Previous entry = wishful thinking.

I'm an ass.

3 head traumas | open up your skull

[07 May 2004|09:55am]
[ mood | dirty ]

I slept in this morning thinking it was Saturday.. skipped a shower and now feel grimy. J.'s got a client in his office; I can't help thinking he knew. Also questioned my dress. I wear jeans, J's never mentioned I should be dressier... usually a collared shirt or my usual moss green corduroy jacket is me.

I smiled at him and he just looked at me as if glancing at a piece of furniture. Jerkface.

I know what they think of me.. he probably fancies that J. is banging me. The usual secretarial rumour mill. I want to be clean, homely and older today. I feel gross.

I should get my hair cut.

open up your skull

[29 Apr 2004|12:45pm]
[ mood | confused ]

It's occured to me that I may be insensitive...

J. bought me a pop after basically talking me into it. I'm strange about people buying me things; I grew up incredibly poor. A can of pop to me a few years back would've been a huge treat... the expense of a dollar would've hurt .

I eat lunch right after he does, and bring my own drink. I suppose it's the gesture that counts, but I can't help thinking of waste.

So now it's sitting to the right of my keyboard, unopened until I go for my lunch. Fuck; I'll drink it. I'll be swimming in an hour though....

3 head traumas | open up your skull

[27 Apr 2004|01:16pm]
[ mood | sleepy ]

Why is it that men can look even better when tired? Hair tousled, eyes dull, shirt half-untucked.... yum.

Women just look haggard. I never thought I could look that scrubbed. I slept most of the way over here on the bus; my eyes look puffy. I should've avoided the mirror.

I've stayed up late every night, fallen asleep in my clothes with the light on. Dry heat smudging me awake. I was waiting for Fat Lennon to notice me online; what tripe. So far my routine's falling apart slowly... I have to get back into it. We turn to petty things when left idle.

5 head traumas | open up your skull

[20 Mar 2004|11:39pm]
I wore jackets whenever possible, to look older and smarter... my forehead bang-free, me skull's sheen. I became idiotic around attractive men, switching poles and winning an Oscar. They thought I didn't give a rat's. I gave a million rats plus one and wept. I blackened my eyes and still faked mystery. I was arrogantly exclusive and sat in an airless 1 foot cube, thinking myself quite content. I made sure to feel every one of my smiles, it's sinews flexing, made it perfect. I took myself entirely too seriously in the wrong situations. I was forced into great performances by other people. I never did anything for myself except refrain.

I hope I'm different now. I hope I can get through my own doings. Oh shit I'm fucked up and obviously so this time. I hope my promotion works out. I hope I retain some dignity. No more cutting onions in my mind.

Maybe I'm depressed.

Being alone is getting scary. More so than the fact that there is no time for such.

1 head trauma | open up your skull

[17 Feb 2004|10:26pm]
Sitting with my back hunched over.. bad posture, arched back. Protruding spine. I can pretend I play the drums with my foot. I have gangly wrists. I revel in vanity all by myself. Burgundy infused into me secretly.


Too many men. Too much flattery. I'm lured to the edge. Curiousity is not for the Fidel.

2 head traumas | open up your skull

like a bird, like a crow, like shiny things [26 Jan 2004|10:06pm]

5 head traumas | open up your skull

[24 Jan 2004|06:40pm]
[ mood | new ]
[ music | "Swinger" by Hot Water Music ]

I had a stunning moment. I wanted to remove you all. I do not run on electricity, my actions are not programs. Tags do not ornate me.

I just need to watch and do. Not tap away a performance on key. You're all still in my scope, but I need to write without an audience in mind. I'm starting to wither without praise.

My pedestal must not be made of pixels. My cohorts not of need.

5 head traumas | open up your skull

[10 Jan 2004|02:31pm]
So long; almost a month on first glance.

I commited myself to being hoplite and regained my lost breath. I've got a flagstone secured in my pedestal. Money isn't an issue any longer. Now I turn around and try to make things pretty again.

I regret not making an effort in keeping tabs on all my friends here. I'm not sure what happens sometimes. It seems like a show. I want to quit. My make-up melts.

Clunking out words, that's what it'll be for a while. No one has made me mad or sad or glad. My passion is mayonaise.


1 head trauma | open up your skull

[10 Jan 2004|12:07pm]
[ mood | pensive ]
[ music | "Le Voyage de Penelope" by Air ]

The internet is fickle.

1 head trauma | open up your skull

[08 Dec 2003|11:29am]
Happy Birthday, nomin!

3 head traumas | open up your skull

[04 Dec 2003|01:06pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

Three interviews in 3 days... crammed in between work . Right now I feel like finding a burrow and hibernating. I'm done w/people for awhile. So much spouting of crap and false cheer. On both ends. Mine and theirs. Make no mistake.

So yes, another job. I seem to be running around unsatisfied lately. I doubt this job will bring satisfaction either. But I stubbornly won over a prim asian woman who drilled me for an hour. She was a cynic-cum-realist, so I understood her well. I was 10 minutes late on top of that too.

I think I was happy for maybe the duration of the bus ride home. It takes too much to make me happy. I suck.

2 head traumas | open up your skull

[01 Dec 2003|12:39pm]
I'm still in transition, so my speech is that of then and that of sometime next month, or several months later. I'm trying to change things and it's painful. Growing pains in my cranium and a sense of time drifting like snow.

No money and no car in the frosty air. Sit around and talk until we regress to children. I have to pop the eyes of a tourist into my head so we can find something to do. Talk, talk until I'm a shell. I need to talk to myself more. I'm so tired of trying and pushing and getting little. I suppose I'm gaining little things, but I want something substantial. I want a bloody steak w/a spurting vein. I want something to die in my efforts. I want reincarnation.

Still waiting and frittering my time away until I get it. That starter that moves me to jump. I'm not as patient as I thought. I need to earn some money. I writhe when I think of debt.

4 head traumas | open up your skull

[19 Nov 2003|09:28am]
[ mood | sleepy ]

Off downtown again. My breakfast: 2 Advils. The palate and build of a crack whore. Yes, I eat. My appetite's just very small. I consider it practical. I can go all day and still function well. Beat that.

I sometimes push my limits that way. But, no it's not willpower; just physiological tendencies. No one should be impressed w/Gandhi.

I should go.

5 head traumas | open up your skull

Genres [18 Nov 2003|11:45pm]
[ mood | bored ]

I rarely do these... my answers are tres bland. )

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