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[12 Oct 2004|12:05am] |
Yeah...so....college...yes....splendid.
Boarded the train, which for once was not a reasonably modern slightly comforting machine. We had been blessed, with a dirty, slam door shattering cage no more fit for human habitation than a corpse abbotoir.
Very sexy. Lucky I don't pay for this priveledge any more. Fuck you, SE trains. And up the arse, if possible. Assuming you can find it.
Happily, the wretched service arrived me at a reasonable hour, and I smoked my way to the Wrotham Arms, without conversing, although the atmosphere did seem slightly more receptive to my presence than weeks past. Which I guess is a start.
Finished my Guiness, and completed journey to college. Now then, Paul appeared and as is usually the case he talked to me genially, showing me the Ralph Fiennes version of "Wuthering Heights" he's attained. I like the bloke, he's eloquent, intelligent, and is utterly concentrated on this course, which is a remarkable and unique trait. He is also encouraging to other, even so far as printing out exam times and percentages for all. Good on you, sir.
We watched film through most of the class, stopping only for break. the films were....different. Firstly, a godawful sterile BBC version with tapped rainwater and an all too clean Heathcliff, then a picture postcard romaticised version, (that later, Carole told me of the advantages of, which was that it was the first time the piece had been made for a popular audience.) and I chortled through my hands at the aged dialogue and over amplified generic classical music.
Then, the good, great, brilliant version. Not textually accurate by any means, but brilliantly portrayed, with suitably bleak landscape, and Ralph Fiennes...RALPH FUCKING FIENNES...snarling brilliance, in getting across not just the twisted love...but the madness of such a man....shaping my view of the book before I had read that far...
I think I need to rent or buy that version. It was superb....and in superficial terms...i'd like to have that hair...as I thought, watching the damned thing as I tried to sub conciously manipulate my own locks to that extreme.
It did not happen. Not long enough yet.
We left and boarded Carole's car...I chatted to her a little, and she dropped me at the Bell, into whose realms I entered, finding Bolb and Stan and a couple I didn't recognise.
Amusing...the pub was rather busy....I sat talking to Bolb, and drinking Guiness, whilst Lucy tried her best to deliver shamrocks on my stout.
Good stuff. The odd couple I think were Bill's friends...eventually I left and drifted through freezing cold......getting home to cook beans and hurl humorous abuse at Des with Bolby. Now i'm typing. Not very well.
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[12 Oct 2004|12:33am] |
That's amusing...should have mentioned earlier that I was talking to K on IM....much as i'd like to have taken her on...face to face..
It was merely through virtual means....
Still, it was fun....
Now, away to bed with me.
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[12 Oct 2004|12:35am] |
Billy Peanuts,
smoked the last crusts
and left the bread for dead
He trashed the place,
and tripped over his bootlace
nobody wanted to see him again
But we never found out the connotations of the name Billy Peanuts
Billy Peanuts was found drowned a few days later.
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[12 Oct 2004|12:43am] |
This is my last parent free night. I hope you've enjoyed my late night postings...cherish them..for they will not appear again...not in this phase of my life at any rate.
From tomorrow everything will be back to normal. Me telling you i'm going out...then telling you about me drinking Guiness and talking to whoever was in the Bell the next morning.
Which is dull, but hey...you'll still have the memories...of my drunken soul.
For now, that is it...until the next morn, you cheering jackdaw barn doors. Stop seething at me! It only transfers your souls!
What?
Yeah, exactly.
Muah. xxxxx
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[12 Oct 2004|08:56am] |
Cold house, strewn with cups, papers, and make up boxes....
Not mine, I assure you. It's Tuesday, and there is nothing but work to be carried out this morning. It's Moy's funeral, so there will be a group in for that. It is a "meh" funeral to me....it exists and goes on but I am removed.
Tired.
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| Get a load of this |
[12 Oct 2004|10:22am] |
http://www.playaholics.com/play/lightningbreak/
I'm now number 86 on the all time rankings. I was 202, until a killer 110,000 something points....stupid cunting game.
Beat me! Play the game! Discuss the title screen, with the player looking rather like he's simply shrugging dolefully through life. He's given up! Somebody put an arm around him!
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[12 Oct 2004|10:29am] |
Later we'll discuss the merits of the films made in the "Wuthering Heights" template. The Hallmark card 30's one, the Ralph Fiennes hilariousness....and the Yorkshire rain covered BBC version, with it's proto Richard E Grant.
Look at them. What's so fucking great about that corner of the DVD anyway?
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[12 Oct 2004|11:16am] |
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music |
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Advent Children Trailer - Not music as such |
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In a bid to combat traffic congestion, the government are set to introdue new pavements for cars...the new lengthy pieces of tarmac bordered by kerb will be introduced next year, and crammed with steel death cages much like the roads are.
"It's absurd...where are the pedestrians supposed to walk? On the tops of the cars?", gasped a man we met who had just purchased a meat and onion pie.
This is wrong. All wrong. WRONG.
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[12 Oct 2004|11:27am] |
Look pretty good today. I did my hair in a nice straight throwover each side, and my skin is getting much better....I probably need a shave, but i'm liking the slightly unkempt look...LOOK RUGGED.
Sort of...with a nice pair of trousers on...due to get destroyed by washing up.
See you all later.
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[12 Oct 2004|03:11pm] |
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music |
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I'll give you something hot! - Final Fantasy X-2 |
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Did the freezer room today, swept it out, danced in the Bell garden during this cleanout. With an apron on. I am a kitchen porter with rhythm.
Moy's buffet are now in the pub, consuming the buffet and talking and chortling much like every single funeral party we've ever had. They're all the SAME PEOPLE!
I could swear they're simply the funeral club...people who get together any time there is a passing away...perhaps they like the same people, or perhaps they like the pizza bread.
I am stuffed on fucking leftover samosas and chicken things. Groan. MOy's last wicked gasp was to give us inigestion, it seems.
Somebody I have known for a long time may be leaving us soon. An end of an era.
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[12 Oct 2004|03:29pm] |
Put washing out, which doesn't take long, but it takes too long, if you know what I mean. I'd much rather not do it than do it.
Also made a rudimentary effort to clean the kitchen, enough I hope to keep Mould from moaning upon her return. That should sadly be sometime soon. Unless we get lucky and they decide on another day in a b&b.
So tired I can't be bothered. My energy levels are very low at the moment. As I only work part time hours, this worries me slightly. I can hardly even muster the force to type, let alone engage my brain.
If that ever failed me, I would have nothing.
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| Tiger's Tip: |
[12 Oct 2004|04:01pm] |
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To remove unsightly stains from clothing, cut the piece of material out that has the stain on it. Then throw it away, along with the item. Go and buy a new item of clothing of the same or similar style.
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[12 Oct 2004|04:03pm] |
Bolb and I can report that the funniest names ever are Benny and Billy. Maybe it's the "b" and the "y". There's something childlike about the sound of them.
Possibly due to our jeuvinile sensibilities, or indeed the fact that they rhyme well...we find them very funny names indeed.
Billy felt chilly,
when he walked the streets
The sheep in his rucksack,
did spit out many pained bleats
But Billy was only interested in keeping himself warm
so he gutted the sheep, and put on the coat from which he'd torn
We can ascertain that Billy was a sadistic carrier of animals, quite willing to kill on the road if it would affor him some bloodied wooly comfort. Sick cunt.
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[12 Oct 2004|04:09pm] |
Gretel Satchels
painted with pastels
on an easel made from wood
she drew the cats, she drew the farm
and the children thought they were good
Until one day, they dicovered she'd traced the lot from a fucking book
She was ostracised from the art class forever. Cheating bitch.
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[12 Oct 2004|04:11pm] |
Dreaming of the bare skin, the smooth caress,
pale in the light, the dimmness dissolves
my sexuality lost to haze....never to be yours
Or yours
Or yours....
Or mine.
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[12 Oct 2004|04:13pm] |
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mood |
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 flirty |
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I wanted to give you a flower for every year
that i've been here,
a rose for your eyes, and my heart for your lips
if you could love these things you could love me
we could be a little more cosy
Now i'm alone walking with my night tune,
bird's flying for where you are
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[12 Oct 2004|04:16pm] |
The tree yearns in it's reach, for bitter leaves fall from it's branches
it's free to grow new, else it dies
in it is the death of a million departures
I catch thousands, crush them in hand,
brittle dust all that's left to scatter,
not enough even to float on wind
I crush too many leaves.
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[12 Oct 2004|05:59pm] |
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mood |
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 angry |
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Mother is back, and doing her level best to make me FUCKING ANGRY by moaning about EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING WRONG WITH THE HOUSE.
Is that washing clean? What's happened to this? What's happened to that? FUCK OFF.
You can't get across how angry I am through text. There is no FONT BIG ENOUGH.
She is responsible, single handedly for this irritable part of me, i'm sure it. I'm going to have to go and fucking kick the shit out of a door or something in a minute. If the tension in my body is not released I am going to put my hand through a FUCKING WINDOW.
I HATE her for making me feel like this.
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[12 Oct 2004|06:04pm] |
I am approaching explosion here. It's kind of like the other night, when I was so livid, and shaking from rage that everybody in the bar notice, and saw me as the part I hate the most.
It's not even as if i'm capable of violence. I've never so much as hit a single person since my big sister when I was a child. That was the only time I can remember. If pushed into defense, then yes, I would.
Stationary objects are a different matter. I hit these a lot, when in a fury. It's my release...objects provide such a finality, a noise, a vent of energy, that after this I calm down...
If I do it here, I will break the computer.
It's not something i'm proud of...hang on...YES I AM.....EVERYBODY gets angry...if anything the way I get rid of it is fucking healthy........and think...though my mother is a hateful shit...i'd never take that anger out on her.
Which is the difference. She can bitch and moan and attempt to make my life a misery through trivial BICKERING and things that DON'T MATTER, but she'll never deserve violence. Nobody does...well...not that I know, anyway.
In the logical though pattern unpertubed and unmanipulated by rage, I could devise intelligent ways of ekeing acts of unspeakableness on people I hate, but these are fantasy. In the midst of one, I rarely think straight, but I know my boundaries.
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| A quiz with a difference. Not much, admittedly. But enough to post without being bored enough to cry |
[12 Oct 2004|07:18pm] |
Random Thought Provokers | Created by rebratka and taken 6547 times on bzoink! | | What makes you laugh? | Generally, Bolb. Or me. Or Des. Or Black Books. | | Who is your hero? | Bender out of Futurama. | | Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours? | Somebody with a knife to cut it. I don't know. I can think of a few names, if you're talking filthy. | | How many pairs of shoes do you own? | Two. I want more, obviously. | | Seriously... Where does the other sock end up? | Your arse. | | Who do you blame for your mood today? | Mother. | | If the Internet were sex... I would | Be a sperm with a face drawn on it, swimming in the other direction. | | Have you ever seen a dead body? | No. | | What is something scientists need to invent? | A big thinking hat for football fans. | | What should we do with stupid people? | See above. Work out the connection. | | Have you ever broken a bone? | No. | | Do you watch local news? Why? | Yes, to guffaw at the innocent stories about ostriches. | | What happens after you die? | You have a funeral buffet where people steal your lies and wank them to other people. | | How big is your bed? Big enough? | Double...about 4.5 ft, I suppose. | | How long do you think you will live? | About forty nine years. | Create a Survey | Search Surveys | Go to bzoink! |
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[12 Oct 2004|07:35pm] |
I've been set homework. It is to write an essay on the language and vocabulary used in Emily Bronte's "Wuthering Heights". I'd better do that tomorrow.
I may sketch out ideas on here, if you like. A pottery board....with paper...and no clay. And writing. Typing, I mean.
Out soon. A night that will break the balance a little further, but not the mould.
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[12 Oct 2004|07:52pm] |
Too long ago...the memories are from a year that seemed lost between two books..like a page missing that never belonged in the first place.
She was the one opportunity....did you want to be? Or even did I? Did anything happen for a reason?
He woke up in the next year, as if nothing had happened.
And by now, it was cold outside again.
Good evening.
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