the diary of antoine roquentin

Read until 1AM, woke up at eight to my dad accosting me to get out of bed. He’d said the night before that he was leaving around nine thirty, so the night before I’d set my alarm for eight thirty. He comes back at 8:25, telling me to get out of bed and that it’s 8:30. It was NOT 8:30. I hate him so much. And THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE NEXT DOOR THAT KEEPS SHOOTING HIS GUN OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER ALL FUCKING DAY LONG was doing it again this morning. I HATE THAT INCONSIDERATE IMBECILE NEXT DOOR. I HATE HIM SO MUCH. So now I’m in the Drift office, it’s ten in the morning, and Molly hasn’t e-mailed me back. I want to read more of Valley of the Dolls, but I am too tired. I’m going to take a nap until twelve, Mr. Mize’s office hours start then. Gotta take care of buisiness. Gotta drop the class. I am very disappointed in that “B or B-” I got for my midterm grade in Photography. That depressed me so badly. I put so much time and energy into that–and that’s all I get? A fucking B-? And she didn’t even tell me how she wanted me to improve, she just said that I printed things badly. Badly? Holy fuck. The untold blasphemies of other people that I’ve seen in the developing tray–shittily cropped images done without even a test strip–what the fuck? I get a B-? Fuck. If those other insipid fucks in my class (especially that inept Amy) got similar grades–one word: KILL. Off to nap.

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> Hocico – Silent Wrath
> Marilyn Manson – Coma White

Got an A on my PoliSci test. Daniela wasn’t there, for some strange reason. Maybe she slept in. Afterwards I dawdled in the Drift office reading Perfume, alternating between that and watching the card games in the student lounge. I finished Perfume, and to my dismay it was a glorious book. I’m beginning to loathe books that I only like because of the last ten pages. Perfume would have been rediculously stupid without the ending, but somehow the ending redeemed all that was banal. I have to say that in retrospect it is a good book, but not while reading it. Talked to that one Kerf girl for a while, she’s really cool. She wants me to come to literary club. It meets at twelve on Fridays, but I don’t have classes Fridays, so it’s going to have to wait until I get my driver’s license. I’m very ambivalent about Perfume, but part four was unlike anything I’d ever read. I have to grudgingly admit that it was a good book, but only in gestalt. My hair is getting long enough so it’s getting in my eyes, a very strange phenomenon. I’ve decided to have it chemically straightened. I think I’m going to have it done at Jordan’s school. I need him to find out how much it is. Photography (the class I’ve been longing for since spring break started) is in about twenty mintues. Jordan hasn’t showed up, so I’m going to amble over to the photo lab again and see what’s going on. Oh shit–SHIT!!! I forgot my paper!!! Motherfuck! I am not a morning person. The world sucks. I must find Jordan so I can get to my house and back before lab starts (impossible, but a worthy goal). Eww, the librarian lady got a new haircut–short–it looks horrible. And the other old librarian lady dyed her white hair a reddish color–revolting. Well, I should go.

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Oh my god–Tara wrote the nicest thing ever in her blog about me–that completely made my day. Oh, we get our PoliSci tests back today, I hope we did well.

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> Rammstein – Mein Herz Brennt
> Rammstein – Du Hast
> Weezer – Undone [the sweater song]
> Elastica – All Nighter

Life is a sucking, spiralling black abyss of insipid banality. Life is the opposite of Deja Vu–it’s Jamais Vu, where everything is the same and nothing changes, but it just feels like you’re doing new things. People struggle on, all in vain, trudging blindly up the neverending hill that just ends in their own destruction. Everything is blindingly cold and there’s never any way out. I would say the only escape is death, but that’s not true. Even in death I will be decomposed and my carbon compounds reformed into generation after generation of this mold growing on our planet, our “biosphere.” I can’t wait until the sun explodes. I would feel a tremendous wave of happiness roll over me as the shock wave approached, vaporizing every shred of human existence, wiping the mold clean via all-encompassing glorious entropy. Depressing. I should go read. Someone who loves me should read J.G. Ballard’s Rushing to Paradise. He explains the yearning for nuclear destruction more than I can. “Du Hast” is a glorious song. I haven’t listened to it for a long time. I want to watch The City of Lost Children, but I don’t own it. They have it at Spotlight, but only on VHS, and I don’t have a tape player. That movie is the best movie ever. I love Ron Perlman in that role. I wish I was French, German, or Italian, I want to live in Paris, Rome, London, Vienna, Berlin, Venice, Prague–and maybe Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Delhi, Helsinki, Madrid, Lisbon, Zurich–definitely Zurich, Kuala Lumpur, Lisbon, and perhaps Milan. I’ve wasted so much of my life already. I want to be a wealthy 1800s aristocrat, draping myself in silk, reading out of my immense library every day, and talking of international politics and philosophy in the upscale coffee houses of Prague, Paris, and Berlin. Damn my American ancestry. Why did they move here in the first place–god. Well, I suppose I’d be raising the pig in the little Italian village of Calabria if it wasn’t for my ancestors’ emigration, but still. Life sucks when you’re not a cosmopolitan European. Damn fate.

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> Marilyn Manson – mOBSCENE
> Daft Punk – Around The World
> Placebo – My Sweet Prince

Talked to my mom, she is such an imbecile. But she’s buying me film (yay!) so I guess I’ll have to conceal my derision. In light of my recent trip to the bookstore in Arcata, I’m revamping my always extensive Amazon.com wishlist. I’m currently drooling over Hocico’s Odio Bajo el Alma. It has the glorious song “Odio en el Alma,” on it, but I’ve never heard any of the others. I’ve never heard a song by Hocico that I didn’t like, so I’m sure the CD couldn’t be too bad. I super-glued Jordan’s shifting panel thing together, it looks cool. I’ve taken to using MSN’s dial-up accelerator, it really works. Go MSN! I’ve loathed their service (more like lack of it) for years. I’m explaining to my cousin Kelly about my Biology quandary. Well, at least due to this malady I’m able to use more good vocabulary. Well, I usually use good vocabulary anyway, so I should stop looking for the silver lining of this cloud. Hm, my dad says he’s not going into work tomorrow, so I can sleep in and get a ride at nine. Sweet. That’s a silver lining if I ever saw one. More REM sleep–ahh. I love REM sleep more than sex. If only there was a drug to sink the mind into REM sleep, I would be on one continuous trip until the day I died. Well, I’m off to chat with Kelly more then I’m off to read Valley of the Dolls. I finished One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest this weekend, and it mildly depressed me. I wanted to write a blog post, but it was like three in the morning and I didn’t feel like turning on the crappy computer in my room, nor going to the good computer in the living room. Perhaps I’ll publish excerpts from me and Kelly’s conversation. She made this cool swastika emoticon for MSN messenger. So creative. I made her send me the picture for it. God damn my carpal tunnel shit, I need a brace for my other hand. I should go. I’m off to have a snack and read.

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