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Me, This, Because
Tuesday, June 4, 2002
Survived. That's all that matters.
I had a dentist's appointment this morning after my shift. In the waiting room, they had a TV set, set to a random channel showing the morning shows. *scrunches nose* They have a new show here called "Hallo Baby!". It's basically a reporter team following several young mothers on their way from impregnation to birthing their offspring. As always, I'm amazed at people's obvious lack of desire for privacy. The idea of a team of reporters with a camera standing around me while I'm on the birthing stool and screaming my lungs out does nothing for me. It would severely piss me off. Besides, who wants to see a woman giving birth? Seriously, we've all had sexual education, we know where the babies come from, and we know how they are born. No need for visual detention.
Then, the game shows. ( Can you tell I've sat in the waiting room for a LONG time? ) Half of the time, the game shows do nothing but annoy me. They're a waste of time. Same with the talk shows. Who the fuck wants to know why Frau März from the deepest regions of Germany divorced her husband? Or why this young girl from Frankfurt thinks of her brother while masturbating? If I wasn't twitchy when I arrived at the dentist, when I left the waiting room, I certainly was.
In other news, my teeth are perfectly all right. *snerk* You all wanted to know this, no?
I finally found someone who wants to buy the house. That means no more trips to Gonsenheim. They're even willing to take over most of the furniture and some of the things like plates, silverware, etc. When they saw the black marker drawings I'd made on the walls of my old room, they were a bit O_o; A few months ago, the idea of selling mom's house did nothing but disturb me. Now, I'm glad to get rid of it. Although most of my friends told me to move to Gonsenheim because then I'd have an entire house to myself, I'm not going to - it's too large for a single person, even with a cat.
Crys, I should be on today, after I've slept a few hours. I'm just dead tired right now.
Quoth the Raven, the story I've been working on, stands at a total of 48 pages right now. Covering...four days. Dust Dancers stands at 160 pages, not counting the 20-odd pages of part nine I'll have to look over as soon as I manage to concentrate again. Then I have to catch up on a ton of personal email. Get a hold of the attorney concerning the house. Living these days isn't living, it's running. But sometimes...sometimes, I go slow on purpose. When I think it's important, I take my time. You know why? The good things...the things that last and stay with you...they wait.
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Saturday, June 1, 2002
Marylin Manson officially announced the departure of long-time band member Twiggy Ramirez on their website a few days ago. It makes me...bah, feel funny would be the wrong term. I wasn't a screaming fan of them, I saw three concerts, I have all the CDs, and hell, once upon a time I even had a poster of them in their Mechanical Animals outfits hanging on my wall. I just find it 'sad' in a way that a band, whose founding days go back to 1989 in Fort Lauderdale, suddenly seems to be losing members left and right. Twiggy and Manson were best friends as far as the public knows, and much of the band's music can be pointed back to the creative talents between the two. Yay, yeah, all of you who hate Manson can harp at me now. Personally, I think the man is a clown in Goth make-up, but hey, he's a funny clown. I remember laughing so hard at the news of the A.F.A ( American Family Association )trying to ban them from playing. Some state even paid them $40 000 not to play. I forget which one it was. The concerts I saw with him performing, these were a blast. Gotta give the man credit for a great stage show.
If anything, I admire Manson for his lyrics. The band's music may not be everyone's cup of tea, but then again, which music is? Leaving aside all the stirred up paraphernalia from both Manson and the media, he made some damn good songs. I don't understand why everyone's so worked up about that band - look at the facts. Before Manson, there was Alice Cooper. Dee Snyder from Twisted Sister. Ozzy Osbourne, notorious for once eating a living bat and biting the head of a living pigeon off. Cruelty to animals? Say that again next time you eat a burger at McDonalds. Satanism? Hell, these guys joked about that. I think that's what few people seem to understand - they had a blast doing it. It was a joke.
Finally, what's left to do now is to wait for Manson's next album to come out. It will be good, if the other albums are any indication.
From: The Speed of Pain, Mechanical Animals:
When you want it
It goes away too fast
When you hate it
It always seems to last
But just remember when you think you're free
The crack inside your fucking heart is me
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Friday, May 31, 2002
Primary Ability:
Coercer
Coercers are by far, the most powerful Misfit, possessing the ability not only to read other peoples minds, but to affect them as well. While Coercers can sometimes tend to be stubborn, they will sacrifice anything for the happiness of a friend.
Secondary Ability:
Farseeker
Farseekers posses the ability to communicate over great distances via telepathy. They are great friends who know when they're needed, and seem to be able to detect others thoughts.
What
is your Misfit Talent?
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Thursday, May 30, 2002
Legion
Enveloped in a sentiment,
a sound that rushes over me.
Engage an impulse to pretend
I have a faith as pure.
Not forgetting what it means to dream.
Indulging everything.
Entertaining thoughts that I've the strength
of those I yearn to be.
Cheers and tribute greet the saviours.
Reckless thoughts survive.
Anachronistic and impulsive.
And what will happen?
Will I dream?
I am too scared to close my eyes.
For a second please hold me.
None can change in me these things that I believe.
But I don't know what happens now.
I am too scared to close my eyes.
Lyrics by VNV Nation
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Thursday, May 30, 2002
One of those days. Mind you, not a bad day. Just one of those. One of those I'll mark in red in my calendar, circle with nuclear bombs, and try to forget as quickly as humanly possible. See, I have this little morning ritual: fall out of bed, fall into shower, fall into clothes, and then fall into teacup while lighting the first cig of the day to further embark on my road to death by lung cancer. Only that this 'morning', I fall out of bed, and then fall on my ass in the shower. I have a rubber mat on the shower that's supposed to keep things like that from happening. Anyway, the thing slipped, I slipped, and I guess I'm lucky that I didn't hit my head like last time and passed out. Anyway - on with the day. Out of cigarettes. So I sip my tea and stare at the clock to wait for the magical minute when I leave the apartment to run for the bus.
I arrive at work and find a note from Sylvia, who's in the day shift. We're normally three people for one shift - one to man the station, two to walk the perimeter and do the things we do. Today, there's only me. Turns out, Abritti's at the Mainzer Uniklinik because his wife broke her arm. So I wait. Two hours into my shift I get a call from Karsten. He lives in the Hunsrück. Tells me his car won't start. Yehaa, I think, no big deal. Get a call from Abritti. Tell him Karsten's not here yet. Get told that Abritti won't be in for the shift. Two and a half hours into the shift, Karsten calls again and tells me he won't make it in today. So, I'm alone at work. Not a bad thing, mind you, just boring. And a bit of a risk, because if someone decides to glock me while I walk out there, there's no one at the station to help me. But eh, no big deal.
Then I realize that I forgot to buy cigs. I ask one of the soldiers who I know by now to get me some. He brings me the wrong ones. So I'm sitting here sucking on ass-weak Gauloises instead of my beloved Lucky Strikes. Four hours to go still. Wargh.
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Sunday, May 26, 2002
After spending the majority of last night puking my guts up for reasons unknown, I now feel marginally better. It started with a sudden dizziness and ended with me praying to the toilet, and then I couldn't sleep. Spent most of the afternoon rearranging my desk/computer desk, because the darn sun kept blinding me, and discovered that the floppy disk I've been looking for since February had somehow ended up behind the desk. Now sitting here, smoking, drinking tea, and contemplating whether or not I should go on Aim. Dree is here, and we're having a rather heated discussion about several things - not bad things, mind you. I don't like having to pay attention to ten things at once, because I end up paying attention to the wrong things. So we're sitting here, me at the desk, he on my bed, and we're talking, and it's good. When you spend most of your free time talking to the 'little textboxes on the screen', having a normal conversation once in a while is refreshing.
We've sort of come to the conclusion that I have no life. At least, not the life everyone else seems to have. Let's look at the facts - I'm 23, I live alone with a cat, I have a gay boyfriend who regularly pops in here and has a key to my apartment, and my best friends are people I have never seen in my life and most likely will never see face to face. And Dree keeps telling me that this can't be all, but face it buddy, that's all there is. That's all I want there to be. I don't like clubbing. I hate crowds. I think most people my age are a joke. I don't go for most things women my age go for - having a boyfriend, having an exciting social life, a car, an apartment. Well, I have a car and an apartment, I had a boyfriend once upon a time, and my social life leaves nothing to be desired. I don't mind being alone most of the time, because it lets me do what I want. I don't have to own up to anyone, and only myself to justify my actions to. Sounds selfish? It is. I never denied it.
I remember having a similar conversation with a friend of my mother's once. Gudrun is now 47, and she's been living alone for 27 of those 47 years. Never married, works as a teacher, has an apartment, has a car, and a cat. She told me that once in a while, being alone gets to her, and that ever so often, she would like to have someone to help her with things. Which those are, she wasn't able to tell me. The way I see it, the things that need to be done, I can do them myself. At least then, I have only myself to blame when they're fucked up.
Then, and this goes back to a conversation I had with someone else, there are the people who can only exist as long as someone is with them. Whether or not that someone is there to admire them, or spend time with them, does not matter. They just need someone to be there, otherwise they feel incomplete. I'm different. I need time alone, otherwise I get crabby or simply zone out and ignore things. I can only rip myself into so many little pieces before the whole of me screams at me to take a step back and recharge the batteries. And right now, work is eating at me with all these long shifts, and I find myself tired more often than I usually am. Sure, it'll pass, Abritti's talking to new people, but nevertheless, right now I'm working long shifts, and it's eating at my resources. Bah.
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Friday, May 24, 2002
First things first - one new pic at Natg, of Far and Schu. Yeah, I call him Far now. Philly and I were talking, and somehow we managed to twist Farfarello into Barfarello, and the step from Farf to Barf is easily made. Also, I finally managed to finish the 8th part of DD, and have started on the 9th. Wargh. Talk about overkill. I have these periods where I don't write at all, followed by days where all I can do is write. Well, whatever, the story goes, the river flows, and I will shoot the next person who emails me complaining about the story.
Today was...weird food day, I think. Ate a can of lentils with nothing on the side because I'd forgotten to go grocery shopping. Where are personal slaves when you need them? One day, when I will rule the world...I'll just order everyone to stay out of my way, and no one will get hurt. Sounds like a deal, doesn't it?
More long shifts coming my way. Double wargh. No Vodka next time, or I'll not be coherent for the following days.
Razzy, O_o; Just stay away from the hot stuff, no? << That does, of course, not include hot Jrockers XD See you soon, sis. On the weekend I hope. *cuddles*
Brad, got your email. *snugs* Again, I'll be seeing you on the weekend. Same goes for everyone else. To the people that I simply did not respond to today when I was on Aim, sorry, but when I work on a pic, I get twitchy. I'm still trying to figure out this Wacom Graphics Tablet I bought, and find that I can do the same things with my mouse, only ten times faster. Ah well, 's just a matter of being used to a certain tool, I suppose.
Here's the song for the night:
Brothers in Arms
These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms
Through these fields of destruction
Baptism of fire
I've watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms
There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones
Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms
Dire Straits
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Saturday, May 18, 2002
Survived the shift. Afterwards, Karsten, Abritti and me went drinking. And I mean drinking. Three people. Seven bottles of straight Vodka. Needless to say, I was a bit unsteady on my feet when I came home. Fell into bed after having been online for about three minutes because my brain kept telling me I'd be drooling on the keyboard soon if I didn't go to bed. Slept like a stone, then woke up at 5 in the morning. Life's peachy. I plan to spend this weekend writing, or else. Or at least attempt writing. Who knows what'll come up.
Razzy, gomen, I know you were on yesterday, but I'm afraid my level of coherency was beyond good and evil, so I didn't even attempt aiming you in those few minutes I was on. You wouldn't have gotten more than a 'blib' out of me, anyway. *hugs tight* Hope everything's all right on your front, and don't let the windmills bite you. See you later, hopefully.
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Thursday, May 16, 2002
Managed to upload it a few minutes before I started my 20 hour shift. http://anrakushi.tripod.com/BB/BBP.jpg. It's a crappy sketch, I know ^^ But that's the basic idea.
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Wednesday, May 15, 2002
Real Men
Take your mind back
I don’t know when
Sometime when it always seemed to be just us and them
Girls that wore pink
And boys that wore blue
Boys that always grew up better men than me and you
What’s a man now
What’s a man mean
Is he rough or is he rugged
Cultural and clean
Now it’s all changed It’s got to change more
We think it’s getting better but nobody’s really sure
And so it goes - go round again
But now and then we wonder who the real men are
See the nice boys
Dancing in pairs
Golden earring golden tan
Blow-wave in the hair
Sure they’re all straight Straight as a line
All the guys are machos
See their leather shine
You don’t want to sound dumb
Don’t want to offend
So don’t call me a faggot not unless you are a friend
Then if you’re tall
Handsome and strong
You can wear the uniform and I could play along
And so it goes - go round again
But now and then we wonder who the real men are
Time to get scared
Time to change plan
Don’t know how to treat a lady
Don’t know how to be a man
Time to admit
What you call defeat
‘Cause there’s women running past you now and you just drag your feet
Man makes a gun
Man goes to war
Man can kill and man can drink and man can take a whore
Kill all the blacks
Kill all the reds
If there’s war between the sexes then there’ll be no people left
And so it goes - go round again
But now and then we wonder who the real men are
And so it goes - go round again
But now and then we wonder who the real men are
And so it goes - go round again
But now and then we wonder who the real - men are
Tori Amos
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