> 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.

Around Christmas I used to do X-mas list posts, but I think I’m going to do one now just because I want stuff, and I can hope in vain that perhaps the tentrils of the internet will bring these these precious items closer to my sanctum.

Gattaca: DVD
Sigmund Freud - Civilization and It’s Discontents: Book
Hocico - Odio Bajo el Alma: CD
Suicide Commando - Mind Strip: CD
:wumpscut: - Embryodead: CD
The Tenant: DVD
Eyes Wide Shut: DVD
J.G. Ballard - Concrete Island: Book
Nowhere: movie, a bit obscure, not sure of format
eXistenZ: DVD
Amelie: DVD
Cube: DVD
The City of Lost Children: DVD
La Femme Nikita: DVD

Ah, I wish I had enough money to behold of such treasures. Obscure and foreign films, Industrial CDs, and philosophical books–what else could one ask for? Damn my lack of cash. Hm. I spilled superglue on my thumb. I keep smelling it, it smells weird. Good, my dad went to bed. I can now see if anything good is on TV. I’m going straight to IFC.

> 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.

> Orgy - Platinum
> Nirvana - Heart Shaped Box
> OK Go - Return

I ended up talking to the financial aid lady, she said it isn’t the end of the world, to submit my FAFSA anyway. I missed the deadline for a few things. Oh well. I still have to wait three days until my dad’s PIN arrives in his e-mail box so he can electronically sign the FAFSA form. I went to the library and checked out A Tale of two Cities out of more boredom than anything. Tawna and Tara were in the library, Tara wanted to take a picture of me for some strange reason. About that time, Jordan walked in. I’ve been reading Patrick Suskind’s Perfume all day. It’s quite easy reading–a little too easy. I’m losing respect for Jared the more I read, he recommended this book like it was the key to unlocking the secret of the ages–instead it’s a mediocrely written festival of 1800s French banality. I’m only halfway through it though, perhaps it will get better. Me and Jordan went to the library today and I checked out Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann. We went to Denny’s and read over hot chocolate, and I am in LOVE with Valley of the Dolls. I’m almost to the point of abandoning Perfume. Reading my new book really helped my mood, and submitting my FAFSA has made me feel like less of an impotent oaf–in the 1800s meaning of the word impotent. Jordan went home early tonight, I’m not looking forward to Religions of the World at 9:30. Well, it’s not that the class starts at 9:30, it’s that I have to get up at six in order to get a ride into town so I can be there at 9:30. I really hope I pass my driving test week after next, then I’d be able to cram another two and a half hours of sleep into my routine, and I’d actually be able to imbibe caffiene right after I got up–instead of having to go the day straight for fear of missing my two-hour nap in the Drift office before class. God damn. My mom is online, she’s talking to me. I should go.

> Nine Inch Nails - La Mer

God damn it. Well, I got an 83% on my test, the same grade I got on my last test. It was the third highest grade in the class. I was impressed with myself. However, after sitting here for twenty minutes calculating out my grades, it looks like I’m going to have to get 100% grades on everything in order to pass. I think I’m going to go talk with Mr. Mize, because I have to drop or take a–well, actually this deserves some elaboration. College of the Redwoods passed a new grading policy that doesn’t let people pass with a C-, which I will unavoidably get. So I’m going to have to retake the class. I want to stay in it though so I know everything when I retake it. I need to drop it, but maybe he’ll let me stay in it or something, because this really interests me. If the grades were only based on tests, I would get a high B if my test scores stayed the same, but with the lab notebooks factored in I’m definitely going to fail. This depresses me greatly. I HATE Biology classes. This is Mrs. Burns all over again, I know the material but I’m forced to fail because I don’t like busy work. Fuck busy work. I’m going to try to track down someone who cares. Hopefully Mr. Mize. Scum fuck. His office hours are 12 to 1:30. I’m going to have to wait until Wednesday. Maybe I’ll talk to Dan. Or one of the counselors. Fuck. I can’t talk to anybody. This is the reason I haven’t done my financial aid, the reason I haven’t gotten the phlegm-coated bumps in my throat checked out, this is the reason I am an ineffectual loser. I can’t talk to anybody. Fuck people. I fucking hate people. Ever since fucking first grade when my fucking asshole father moved me up to this SHIT HOLE AND I WAS FUCKING SHUNNED BY THESE IMBECILIC ASSHOLES FOR TWELVE FUCKING YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hate him so much. I can’t deal with people. I don’t know anyone who understands me. I’m alone, drowning in a sea of stupidity. Fuck busy work. I get Bs on the tests, why shouldn’t I pass? Fuck everyone. Fuck the stupid fucks who need the lab book points so they can pass. Fuck everyone who can’t regurgitate something he said ten goddamn times onto a piece of paper. FUCK EVERYONE. And, last of all, fuck myself for not rising above all this bullshit. Fuck me for being the shy little child this shit hole has made me. I can’t survive the combine. All the systems of control have succeded. I am a product of this shithole world and my shithhead father, a little geek who has to lock himself up in his room and read books forever because he’s afraid of the real world, a little loser who has to survive in the world of fiction because he realizes there is no truth, no justice, no reality except for what we make of it. I hope I burn in hell. At least I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.