>Garbage - My Lover’s Box

Today sucks. I haven’t talked to anyone, which come to think of it is actually cool. I finished Crash by J.G. Ballard at 2am today, it was so cool, it was much more sequential and explanatory than the movie. But I guess that’s to be expected. I feel like I should finish this entry with a quote from Crash. I’m going to get my book. The narrator is looking at a car crash victim named Gabrielle, whose scars are so deep they almost are orifices. “I dreamed of other accidents that might enlarge this repertory of orifices, relating them to more elements of the automobile’s engineering, the ever-more complex technologies of the future. What wounds would create the sexual possibilities of the invisible technologies of thermonuclear reaction chambers, white-tiled control rooms, the mysterious scenarios of computer circuitry?” It’s a pretty lurid and shocking view of the future, but I like it, it’s different.

–July 28, 2003
>Marilyn Manson - Rock Is Dead (Video)
>Marilyn Manson - The Last Day On Earth

Well, yesterday sucked. I wanted to go to Rite-Aid to get leather care products. (My mom needs to use the phone, but fuck her, she can use grandma and grandpa’s phone, you’ll see why I’m saying this once you read the entry.) I bugged her all day, and finally she said okay, that if I got ready we would go after my grandparents got back from their medical appointment. I took a shower, and got ready (in an outift that was structured around my new boots). I went into my mom’s room to check my e-mail. She started bitching that I’d walked all around Manhattan in those boots and that they shouldn’t be on her floor, and that she doesn’t like shoes on her floor, blah blah blah fucking blah. Realizing she wasn’t going to shut up, I said out of exasperation with her inane phobia about germs, “fuck you.” She screamed like a madman and lunged towards me, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!!!!!!”. I have no fucking privacy in my room, Grandma and Grandpa go in and out of my room as they please (in their shoes, no less). I have no lock on my door, what the fuck? It’s a fucking double standard. I watched TV until my grandparents got back, then wanted to call Mindy and relate this new plateau of my mother’s insanity, but my mom had the door locked. “I won’t let you in until you’ve cooled down”, she taunted. I was as cooled as I was going to get, and the bitch was fucking pissing me off. I have two lifelines in this New Jersey hell of oppression, confinement, and emotional servitude to everyone but myself. The first lifeline is phone calls to my friends, the second, journal posts and e-mails to my friends/relatives in California. When deprived of this, I go insane simply because without lifelines this becomes a real prison as opposed to a simulacrum. Total control. It’s what my mom lusts over. I went away for a few minutes, then asked again. “Why don’t you use Grandma and Granpa’s phone?” “Because I need to make a long-distance call.” “I’m not paying for your long-distance calls, they’re a privelege, not a right” “Well, if using the line is a privelege and not a right, using my phone is a privelege.” There was no response. “I want my phone back.” “Open the door.” No response. I began to grow angrier and angrier. I went down, poured the bottle of hair color developer she’d just bought down the drain, watched some more TV, then went up and asked her again. She would not open it. She wanted me to beg or something. I will never impugn my dignity for her sadistic pleasure gained from complete and utter subjugation of my soul. I went downstairs, took some CDs she had in a box, and threw them across the room in a graceful arc, before they fractured on the tile floor. The CDs were fine, I guess, but the sounds the cases made as they shattered made me feel much better. Causalties of war, I remember thinking. I went up again, and she still wanted me to “cool down” or whatever. I’d reached my shit limit. I went insane, screaming LET ME THE FUCK IN!!!!!!! Let me reiterate, I will not let people try to control me. She ran over and opened it, since obviously grandma and grandpa had heard and were going to come over and see what was going on if she didn’t. I grabbed everything in the room that was mine, including my phone that we’d been using out of my generosity. I went around the house and collected everything that was mine, I put my DVD player back in it’s box, I brought armload after armload of stuff up. It ws then that I deceded I am going to leave two weeks before school starts, not this one day before bullshit. All my stuff is now in my room, completely unprotected because I have no lock on my door or any way to stop them from doing anything. I haven’t talked to my grandparents or my mom much at all since the episode. I’d bet millions that my mom made up some shit story making me the villain so they would pity her. Well I pity her, and it’s simply because of her stupidity and insanity. I can’t wait until that bitch dies.

–July 27, 2003
>Nine Inch Nails - Closer

I wanted my mom to drive me to Rite-Aid to get leather care products, but she gave her normal bullshit that she was tired. If I had a penny for every time she used that shitty excuse, I’d be a fucking billionaire. But towards the end of the day, I got this e-mail from my cousin Kelly. She’d gotten front and center seats at the Marilyn Manson concert she went to, it was so cool, and that this really hot friend of hers I’d been lusting after, Taggart, is bi and asking about me, supposedly. It made me like, jump for fucking joy when I checked the Marilyn Manson tour dates and there is this one coming up that’s really close to where we are here. My mom said she’d pay for the tickets and everything (after I convinced her that she’d literally get killled at a Marilyn Manson concert, which she would). I e-mailed my uncle to see if he’d take me. He hasn’t replied yet, I don’t think he got the e-mail. All the good tickets are probably already gone, but I’m going to try to get ahold of him.

>Rammstein - Engel
>Monster Magnet - Space Lord
>Marilyn Manson - New Model, No. 15
>Animotion - Obsession
>Nine Inch Nails - The Perfect Drug (Video)
>Rammstein - Ich Will (Video)
>Garbage - Cerry Lips (Video)

Continuing my narrative about my trip to Manhattan on Friday, we’d just gotten off the boat at Wall Street. We walked up towards the Exchange, and finally got there. We were a half hour early, so we decided to walk over to Ground Zero. We got there, and there were a bunch of people loitering around looking at this thing that looked like (it was, in reality) a construction site, as if God was shining down at them and whispering ‘you are my most beautiful creation’. Excuse me while I vomit. Anyway, while we walked back to the Stock Exchange Gail and I carried on something of a debate about 9/11 stuff, we really didn’t get anywhere. We waited outside the Exchange for a long time, finally Gary came out. We walked towards Chinatown, and dined at this Thai restaurant, it was so delicious, Gail got duck in this yummy sauce, Gary got beef in peanut sauce, and I got this thing called Pad Thai, which I always got when I went to the Thai restaurant in Crescent City. We all sampled each others’ dishes, everything was singularly delicious. After dinner, we journeyed through Chinatown, Little Italy (emphasis on little, it’s getting smaller and smaller), passed near SoHo, and made it to the Village. We approached Astor Place from the south, and walked through it. Gary said that this was the heart of the Village, though it just looked like an anonymous reincarnation of Times square, but without all the famous ads and tall buildings. We journeyed on towards St. Mark’s place, where I hoped to find somewhere that resembled my imagination’s vision of Greenwich Village. We entered St. Mark’s, and already I began to see changes. One of the traffic signal posts had a mosiaic on it. We walked further, and I spotted Religious Sex. We were to go to Trash & Vaudeville first, so we continued on until we saw the facade of that store I’d lusted after for so long. We went into the top store, Vaudeville, and I immediately uttered “heaven”. It was the size of three of the Sunrise Mall Hot Topic, but crammed with ten times more stuff. It was amazing. The clothes were Hot Topic prices though, this one trenchcoat was $200. Nonplussed, I ventured down to Trash, and found the most amazing spectacle my eyes had yet to behold, the most gothic/industrial/punk/fetish boots I’d ever seen in one place. Gail and Gary moved toward the front of the store (which was the same size as Vaudeville), while I tried to decide. I’d been used to too little to choose from, but this was literally overwhelming. After a while, I decided on one, and I asked the guy if they had it in my size. He said no. I chose three more, and they still didn’t have them in an 11. Finally, they had one. I tried it on, it had too big of a platform. Then I spotted this knee-high creation with buckles down the back and those things you just wrap the laces around instead of putting them through holes. They had it in my size, it fit perfectly, and I was in love. If I had a digital camera, I’d take a million pics of them and put them on my website, but I don’t even have a normal camera. But I have a DVD player! Gosh, I’ve got to reexamine my priorities. Anyway, these boots were really expensive, but they were real black leather, and from England (i.e. uber-stylish) so I had to get them. I really didn’t have enough money, but Gary was so nice, he paid the tax and a little extra, which was a lot, they were about $250 when all was said and done. I paid $200. Well, after the lengthy boot escapade, I wore them out, and we continued toward the box office for Stomp. We were lucky, we got some of the last tickets, we sat in the last row, but it was a small theater, so it was just possible to decipher the actors’ facial expressions. But it wasn’t really a play, so the facial expressions didn’t really matter. It was this show where these people make music out of ordinary objects like brooms and trash cans. It was quite cool, although the trash can lid cymbals did get a little loud. After the show, we took a cab to the nearest PATH train station and rode the subway to Hoboken. We walked to the garage where Gail had parked the car, and waited like five minutes for the elevator. It finally arrived, and there was a liquid on half of the floor. We crowded into the non-liquified part. Halfway up Gary commented that it wasn’t water. I wish he wouldn’t have said that, I mean it’s fine to ride in an elevator that might contain bum urine, but like not one that has been unequivocally decided to have bum piss in it. We got in the car, and rode home with the windows down. I had to sleep in the living room without a pillow after I explained to my mom how cool my boots were and that I was in love with them. The sleeping on the floor thing got old, so I went downstairs and tried to sleep on the horribly uncomfortable couch downstairs. It’s not even a couch, it’s couch cushions on a frame of wooden dowels. Where do people buy stuff like that? Anyway, that’s about it.

>Garbage - I Think I’m Paranoid
>Marilyn Manson - Sweet Dreams

The idiots downstairs (namely my grandmother and mother) are singing karaoke songs downstairs about killing people just for the fuck of it to my two and a half year old cousin. I think that is fucking WRONG. What the fuck? Grandma said Jesus in front of her, and was trying to reverse-engineer it into “I love Jesus”, so how is she going to reverse-engineer “I killed a man just because I wanted to see him die”. That’s just fucked up. Fuck them, and I pity Alexis, having to grow up with those ignorant bastards.