> Orgy - The Odyssey
> Orgy - Dramatica (AMAZING SONG)
> Orgy - 107 (ahh…perfection)

I’m agonizing over the subject of STDs again. If finding out was as easy as–say–checking the mail, or watching a movie, I’d already know. But all that scary hospitalness–the filling out of forms, the inexorably social component of it–it scares me more than any test result ever could. I’m going to die, sure, so is everyone. But having to say to another human being (a complete stranger, mind you) “I need to be tested for STDs”–it’s like soliciting a prostitute. It’s too intimate. So I haven’t been tested. And I could be killing people. But I doubt it. I’m downloading porn–yet another of my habits that’s been magically made legal on November 18th. It’s one of those safety things–looking at the world through a camera lens creates a cushion of safety, just like looking at the world on a TV/computer screen. I should be sleeping right now, but I couldn’t sleep. For some reason I kept thinking of the sexual episode with Taggart. It would be sad if I was responsible for his death. But if it weren’t HIV it’d be lung cancer, he smokes like a chimney. Which intrigues me. I’ve been looking at band t-shirts for the last hour or so, there were a few Marilyn Manson t-shirts I wanted, one said “I love drugs” with the Marilyn Manson logo, and one had this Manson-ized version of the American flag–so cool. I found the greatest Rammstein shirt, but they only had it in XXL. Poop! I wish I was fat. But then I guess wearing the shirts would be futile because I’d have no one to share my great musical taste with. This online acquaintance of mine tells me that Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) is compiling a new CD. The prospect is glorious. I LOVE Nine Inch Nails. But I’m not tired tonight. Damn world. My hair kind of looks okay today though. I actually styled it this morning. I’m downloading some Thrill Kill Cult songs, I don’t know if I’ll like them. Downloaded some Hocicio songs like last month, they were good. I want to buy some of their CDs, but I keep spending my money unwisely. But I suppose I should listen to my mother’s immortal words: “You can’t take it with you.” Must be the same thing with happiness. Love, Truth, Justice. They’re all just a farce. Everything’s just a farce. And nothing means anything. We’re born. We die. Eventually the sun will explode and we’ll all die. Eventually the universe will collapse, and we’ll all die. This world is just a gateway into the next. A gateway into nothingness, into noncorporeality, into emptiness and non-being: into destruction and damnation–now and forever. Fuck this world. I’m going to laugh before I die because I know that nothing ever will change anything. Everything always stays the same, although we think it changes. We’re all animals who just ruthelessly desire things. The whole world is darkness. It is suffering. It is one group who trods on the other. One group is dominant, the other submissive. It is the order of things. Societies rise, societies fall. And we will be exterminated. The online acquaintance is saying how his mom, dad, grandpa, and someone else they all have cancer and they’re pretty much terminal. I’d care–but why bother. I’m going to end this post with a quote from Simulacra and Simulation.

“If being a nihilist, is carrying, to the unbearable limit of hegemonic systems, this radical trait of derision and of violence, this challenge that the system is summonded to answer though its own death, then I am a terrorist and nihilist in theory as the others are with their weapons. Theoretical violence, not truth, is the only resource left us.”

“Death no longer has a stage, neither phantasmatic or political, on which to represent itself, to play itself out, either a ceremonial or a violent one. And this is the victory of the other nihilism, of the other terrorism, that of the system”

So we’re all fucked and we’re all pawns of the system whether we like it or not. End of story.

[compiling a 'best of Garbage' CD]

Finally talked to my mom, I couldn’t ask her what I wanted to ask her. I couldn’t talk seriously. Couldn’t stop focusing on our quotidian ennui. Whew, that must be a Scrabble double word score. I’m moving more toward Baudrillard-esque vocabluary Olympics. I wanted to have a serious talk, but I couldn’t. What does that mean? I wanted to ask the hard questions, namely:

If you don’t want to read Brave New World, just tell me.

If you don’t approve of my sexuality, just tell me.

Because all of your passive-agressive shit really gets on my nerves.

> Orbital - Technologique Park

Today was lame. Some foreign person woke me up wanting to know about the pasture for rent. I took his name and number. It was kind of funny since I’d seen Secretary the night before. Brushed my teeth and went back to bed to read. Finished The Stranger and the chapters in my philosophy book I’m supposed to read. I must write my papers today. I think I went and watched a movie or something. No, I burned CDs…I burned two copies of Mr. Hankey’s Christmas Classics for Danielle–and this one CD of mine that she liked. I think I watched TV while that went on. Can’t remember what I watched. Hmm. I think I had a glass of juice. God, I can’t remember anything. I’m blaming my dad right now for me not writing my essays, he’s watching football in the living room (the room with the computer that has Word on it). Earlier, he told me that we were going into town, so I got all dressed and ready, and then he called his girlfriend and she didn’t want to go. Why couldn’t he have called her first? He’s such a loser. So I’m all dressed up and nowhere to go (as usual). Dressing up kind of made me feel better, clothes to me are kind of a self-esteem band-aid, a barrier between myself and reality. I haven’t been eating much lately and I’ve been losing weight, but I don’t think I’ll ever get as skinny as I want. I was a bit anorexic Freshmen and Junior years, I would almost never eat. And I would always be doing it to be attractive to someone I had a crush on. Depressing. I can’t lose weight for myself, but I can do it for other people. Guess who I’m doing it for now. God. I wish people knew how much time I spend on them–meticulously choosing my outfits every day, wearing uncomfortable shoes…all for what? I realized today when I was getting dressed that the only people who were going to see me were complete strangers. It was kind of depressing, so I decided to call Danielle and arrange to drop off the CDs I burned for her, to give my outfit some ersatz meaning. After my dad said we weren’t going anywhere, I was depressed and went out to play with this toy truck my dad got me for my birthday a long, long time ago. It’s one of those remote-controlled ones. He didn’t even remember getting it for me. He gave me my allowance for the last two weeks ($30), but that (and more) is going to exchanging my kilt. I hate getting money that I know I won’t be able to spend on things I want. That $30 could be a palette and two christmas gifts. I’m kind of fixated on painting paraphenelia to evade the reality that I have to buy new brushes (a huge expense). The paint hardened in all of them, making them a complete waste of forty dollars, although I did get a painting out of the mix. I keep trying to call my mom, but nobody picks up the phone. I think she’s dead. It would kind of be a relief. I think if she was dead I could start to accept that she never really loved me. Charley was going to come over last night, but one of his friends showed up. I don’t know why I even associate with him–he’s not attractive. I guess sex with him is one of my few acts of charity. I’m glad he didn’t come over. Well, that was a deluge of malaise. I should get back to my reading, I think my dad went outside, I don’t hear the blaring football any more. I should go.