I called Danielle, talked to her for a while, I felt better afterwards. She’s not as insipid as I end up thinking she is. She’s just human. I expect everyone to be an ubermensch–a superman in the Nietzsche sense, but nobody is perfect. I don’t even know what I expect from people–it’s just the more I overanalyze them the more I find their flaws and the more judgemental I get. I hate that about me. I’m not perfect, I shouldn’t expect perfection from everybody else. Just–if I say bad things about people, just know that I am ambivalent about everybody. I have deep feelings about people, both good and bad. Just because I say one side of my feelings doesn’t mean that I don’t feel the other side. I am ambvalent about everything. Nothing can be purely evil and nothing can be purely good, just like people. I love and I hate, but they are really the same thing. If you’re so consumed with hate for somebody you spend the same amount of time thinking about them as if you were loving them. So I am loving when I’m hating and hating when I’m loving. Just–know that.

Feeling better, Stargate SG-1 is on. I want to make a list of all the things I like about Andrew.

He likes Star Trek
He likes Stargate
He’s an artist
He reads
His favorite book is 1984
He has dandruff
He has an ear piercing
He is beautiful
He dresses tastefully
He wears black
He occasionally wears makeup
He understands what I say
He listens to me
He likes to hold me
I understand him

It’s not all the things I like about him–just the things off the top of my head. I like him so much. It’s going to be horrible to leave. But I know I should have thought about… I can’t reverse engineer time–I cant undo this–and I don’t want to– I won’t stop loving him, I don’t think it’s ever possible to stop. I can still remember loving people that I now hate vehemently. I will still remember loving Andrew–I’ll remember the week that he he was here–when it was perfect, when we told each other how we felt, when we slept in each others’ arms every night and we were whole–no matter what happens I will still remember that glorious feeling–that perfect love–and I will smile. I’ll remember his face right before we’d kiss–that expression of perfect love. Nothing can take that away. Even if he yelled at me–if he beat me up–if he screamed with hate in his eyes that I was the ugliest person in the world and that all he wanted was to fuck me until he found somebody better; it wouldn’t change my memories of that perfect, innocent, intimate beginning. I will love him through my memories until the day I die.

> Marilyn Manson - A Place In The Dirt
> Nine Inch Nails - The Becoming
> Nine Inch Nails - Pilgrimage

I’m really bitter today, and I don’t know why. I’m going to try to remember to call Taggart after he gets off work–after nine. I went with Kathy to go pay her utilities and we had a good talk. The office was closed though, she has to go back tomorrow. We keep seeing the previews for Seventh Heaven–that is the most inane show I’ve ever seen. I must change the channel, it’s on now. Those people have the STUPIDEST problems ever. I swear, the world would end if there was anybody gay on that show. It’s a propaganda machine for the Religious Right. Fuck everyone. I should call my mom–shit, it’s too late. Damn time difference. I should call Danielle to make myself feel less bitter about her, but I’m afraid she’ll deluge me with banality and I’ll feel even more bitter and superior. I hate feeling superior to people–it seems wrong–but I know there are people that are more intelligent than me, there must be people who are less intelligent. Is that concieted? I don’t know. I blame Daniela and Taggart for my burgeoning sense of self-worth. Taggart makes me feel beautiful and Daniela makes me feel intelligent. I so wasn’t feeling the love today regarding Andrew–I kind of felt left out–they were taking pictures and it was obvious that Kelly and I were superfluous but somehow necessary because Jared wouldn’t have gone to model without us. I feel like Taggart is stealing Kelly’s photography style. Kelly takes beautiful photographs–I have only seen a few of Taggart’s pictures and they really weren’t distinctive. Hmm. I feel like he’s stealing Kelly’s photographic style just like he’s stealing Ica’s painting style. Whatever Kelly took a picture of, Taggart did. Lame. I kind of felt insulted that he never took any pictures of me–if I was taking pictures for photography I would have so taken great pictures of him. I want to do a bood series–black and white of course–I can see it in my mind how I would arrange everything, but I can’t put it into words. I need a camera and money for film and developing. Oh well. When I get home. But I won’t have Taggart for a model. Fuck. I won’t have Taggart for anything. Crap. The world is ending and I’m dying–inside and outside, my emotions and my body–my intellect will just melt into atoms. Fuck everything. I can’t deal with my death. I want to get a coffin, a really cool one, and sleep in it at night–you know–to get used to it. It is so disturbing to think of being ensconsed in some weird thing you’ve never seen before–but to have it around and to sleep in it would be so much better–the second right before death would be much more comforting it would be knowing that you’re just going to bed forever–literally. All I have to do is come up with money. I think perhaps I’m going to visit the mortuary place in Crescent City to see prices. I’m estimating around $1000, but perhaps they won’t be that pricy. Or they might be more, who knows. Well, I kind of feel hungry, I think I’m going to raid the kitchen and read Requiem For A Dream, Kelly went into her room. She’s reading it too so I want to be ahead of her so we can finish it about the same time. I have a feeling it’s going to be an ordeal. The movie was depressing enough.

> Kelly and I are watching Friends, she’s reading Requiem For A Dream.
> Nine Inch Nails - Reptile “angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress / need to contaminate to alleviate this loneliness / i now know the depths i reach are limitless”

I am realizing lately how stupid Heather is. I like never see Heather but she thinks that I am like best friends with her. We only talk on instant message and she makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE. Here’s an excerpt from our conversation:

Heather says:
whats new
I say:
my ear hurts
I say:
I think my new piercing is infected
Heather says:
omg someone told me i had a big vocab like urs and really i am sowwy to hear that

What the hell? Here’s another thing she said:

“its going nothings really new brians way diff then he used to be but he seems to be the same brian again so i don’t know and as for donna well shes hanging in there when eliceo was here we talked about sunset”

Ooookay?

I would tell her I’m going to bed but I can’t. I really want to block her. I can’t stand her stupidity. I just blocked her. I told her I was going to read a book. I guess I’m being an asshole, but she bores me to death! We never talk about anything interesting, just the past–just high school. I’m moving on and I need to like, get new friends. We never see each other anyway.

Well, in regards to Danielle, I just got an e-mail from her that kind of made me angry. Here are a few excerpts:

“What have you been up to lately! You never check your E-Mail anymore!”

I’ve checked my e-mail like every day since I’ve been here.

“and last but not least, when I turn 18 (in June) I am going to apply for S.S.I., Social Security, and H.U.D. ….So I can get the fuck outta here!”

Gosh, that’s a socially productive act! Let’s all just mouch off the government! That is so depressing. So Crescent City. Whatever happened to “go to college” or “get a job.” Her dad is a Vietnam veteran–her college is probably all paid for and even if it isn’t, if I can get a grant she can. And then she goes off on this thing about this friend of hers and how a long time ago the person told the cops about Danielle’s thirty year old boyfriend. I mean, it’s not weird now, she’s almost 18–but she was like 16 when it started. You can’t blame people for doing what they think is right. That’s what Crescent City people do–they invent drama out of nothing just to escape the tediousness of their lives and give themselves something to do: add a haze of drugs to this mixture and that’s what you get–people fighting for no logical reason, people hating for no logical reason. People with nothing to do are not productive members of society. I’m not a big fan of society, but I feel like production and progress are essential. I can’t help feeling like Danielle has no future, no hopes and dreams–I can see her slowly becoming her mother. Not like that’s a bad thing, but I don’t see them becoming more than they were before, I see stagnation. Generation after generation subsidized by the government–fighting the same fights, liking the same things, believing the same things. I’m not saying I’m better than her or her family–just that I feel that producing is infinitely more noble than consuming. I suppose that did sound like I was being egotistical. Hmm. [this post was edited on January 19th, see the post on Mon Jan 19, 04:11:39 AM for an explanation]

> Marilyn Manson - The Last Day On Earth
> Placebo - Without You I’m Nothing
> Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams
> Marilyn Manson - Slutgarden

Woke up to Kelly and Taggart coming back from school–I put on my REDRUM shirt and we went over to the place with the derelict houses, Taggart took some pictures of Jared around the derelict houses (Jared wore my old bondage pants)–Kelly didn’t take many though, she likes dramatic lighting effects, not pictures of scenery. I kind of like scenery–I dunno. When I start taking pictures for class I’ll find out what I like. Um, the lemon bars are good, and the snow pudding is kind of like merengue. It’s okay. Taggart had to go to work after we took the pictures. It was kind of sad. We kissed, and “The Last Day On Earth” came on my CD player–it so fit. That song–it is so perfect. If I ever committed suicide I would have to put that song on repeat. Hmm. So now I’m bored. I think I might get out Kelly’s copy of Requiem For A Dream. Oh, Taggart borrowed Into The Forest a few days ago and he’s been reading it, I guess he likes it. I want him to read Brave New World–I should carry my copy of it and 1984 wherever I go. I know he’ll like it, his favorite book is 1984. Anyway, I should get back to my life, whatever that is. Oh crap, Kelly is reading Requiem For A Dream. Perhaps I’ll read Simulacra and Simluation. Hmm.