Polydeism to Vacuity   
11:50am 07/01/2003
mood: Surreal
music: Nightmares on Wax
My lips are cracked, I can only bring you pain...

I seem to be suffering from the isolation theory. Normally I enjoy solace and the ability to be cut off from social interaction. However in times of sadness or just simple loneliness I find it hard to contact anyone. Or contact will be made and will fade after mere moments, leaving an unsatisfied feeling to scrape along the bars of my spine with its cold fingernails.

I slept long and deep...it was the closest I have been to eternity in quite some time. It was a wonderous feeling to wake up refreshed, one that I almost can not explain. I peeked out of my window to see a soft white blanket befallen on the land. I sat and watched the particles of innocent chemistry falling from an unforgiving sky until the early morning broke into daylight...defiled by the noise of grumpy and tired silhouettes stumbling to their vehicles. The sounds of scraping and machinery filled the walls of my head. I decided it was time for a hot shower and perhaps some buttered toast.

I don't really have any plans for this day...and the circumstance of troubled waters has brought me here. Where I am to spew out another stream of consciousness that will shoot through miles upon miles of fiber optics and wires at unimaginable speed into the brains of the two unlucky wanderes who happened to click on my surname by mistake. To which I will reply with a chuckle and an apparent lack of enthusiasm.

I think I will listen to some calming music and try to be passionate about something for a while...
Good day.
Quiet Decay   
01:30am 08/12/2002
mood: mellow
music: Autechre
I smoke too much when I am alone...

My solace is this music...powerful enough to carry me into a place beyond inebriation…beyond trails and fractals and interpreted chaos…beyond the multi-colored lights, and static voices, and preparations for sickness, and false excitement, and blurred faces streaming through the haze of charred lungs exhaling.

I am glad that I am home with this incandescent monitor shrouding me in a mocking of human evolution. I can revel in my world of insomniac wonder, where nonsensical babble dillutes an escalating amount of thought and worry. I want to have conversations with people who can form complete sentences. I need a reason to continue walking this volatile quicksand. I would be content with receiving a bottle of water and perhaps a smile.

Difficulties have arisen and fallen this week...chapters have closed and footnotes have been scattered haphazardly around my wastebasket of observation. Perpetual breath is respected, and I am grateful for it...which is a pleasant turn in mindsets from days past. I tried to explain to certain worried individuals that I am not depressed...I just like being sad. Sometimes I feel as though my words fall upon deaf ears, which isn't always a bad thing. I just wish some people would try and have a little more behind their eyes, but as wishes go they are seldom granted.

I recorded a new song, and I am in the process of editing. It is pretty rough right now but I kind of like it. I had to do some upkeep to my guitar and I will probably have to replace the tone pot soon. I would like to have the money for a new one, perhaps I can sell some of the old unused ones. I worked a bit more on the book but writing these past few days just hurts my brain. I am terrible with words when I am devoid of over-stimulation.

Well I suppose I shall go smoke some more and watch a movie...and pretend to have a meaningful existence.
Solitude and beautiful nothing.   
07:29pm 27/11/2002
mood: numb
music: The Fragile
I can feel the bitter air creeping through the frozen panes of glass. Each shiver brings thoughts of a past growing fainter by the moment. So many years have passed before these eyes...so many conversations, and dispositions, and blind reasoning, and false prophets. I wonder, if anything, what I am to be thankful for when yet another tomorrow comes. I am grateful for perpetual breath each day...I am grateful of the friends and family that many people only dream of. I am thankful for peace and solitude...as I am not one for holidays. They just seem to be a few randomly placed days a year that give us a chance to be loving and supportive and everything one should be at all moments...a false hope for better days I suppose. I am thankful for uninterupted sleep, and other selfish things.

I would like you to have a pleasant day.
A day, for me, when the world disappears.
A day for you to cherrish.
A day of thanks.

I almost refrain from making the phonecalls explaining yet again why I shall not be present for the collective of jovial moments. Though I know it will ease worries, and am compelled to at least provide some rationalization behind the putrid, "avoidance." I haven't yet made a decision...
Perhaps I will be there, to watch the hideous display of unity unfold, and to ravish the cinnamon topped sweet potatoe ensemble that only appears once a year. I don't know how I can explain to people that think just because I don't voice my opinion every other second that I am a complete idiot, how completely alone I feel when surrounded by them. Which plays a large role in my, "avoidance." I am autistic...my thoughts are higher than stars...there is nothing I nor anyone else can do about this.

I remember a time when holidays were fun.
Providing a joy like the first crayon adventure completed within constraints of all lines.
The amazement and fulfillment of tearing away wrapping concealing your number one list choice, carefully marked by a circle, three underlines, and an asterix.
Warm cocoa complimenting icing drenched breakfast rolls.

I guess these days faded along with, "carefree." Lost in a pile of broken dreams...
So here I sit, with misguided intentions, and the static of silence pouring from shattered speakers, pondering my next move across the ever expansive chess board.

I wonder what the blur of serenity will bring.