the diary of antoine roquentin

> 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.

Categories: Uncategorized

> Hocico – Silent Wrath
> Placebo – Blue American
> Marilyn Manson – Coma White

“Silent Wrath” is like–the best fucking song ever. I fucking love Hocico. Watched MadTV until twelve, I’m much closer to the end of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Um–I’m going to e-mail Molly back. Oh god–I saw this cat through the sliding glass door–I went over to try to pet him but he had this huge puncture wound in his head–I felt so sorry for him, I wanted so bad to coax him inside and dress the wound, at least disinfect it–but when I tried to open the sliding glass door he just left. I felt so horrible. It was such a metaphor. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing in this life. I want to consiously believe what I secretly know is true–that we’re just bunches of cells that banded together to consume more energy–that we’re a hiccup in entropy–something not meant to be. We mean nothing and could be extinguished in a second. But I can’t stop clinging to my ideals. I’ve brought myself to admit that there is no justice and no truth, but I can’t surge ahead into the rest of the rejection of idealism. It would make life meaningless. But it is meaningless. Therein lies the problem. I’m kind of making a suicide CD–I’m sick of all my other music. Depressing songs seem to suit me more. I need a big canvas. I’m going to go insane. I need to get all this emotion out. I am sick of sounding like some weepy mall goth, but I am depressed and need to paint. And I have no money for a canvas. My depression CD is almost complete…here’s the track listing.

Hocico – Silent Wrath
Marilyn Manson – Coma White
Nine Inch Nails – La Mer
Marilyn Manson – Para-noir
Placebo – I Know
Chester Benningham of Linkin Park – System (from the Queen of the Damned soundtrack)
Garbage – Cup of Coffee
Marilyn Manson – The Last Day On Earth
OK Go – Shortly Before the End
Weezer – Buddy Holly (this was me and Mindy’s song, hence, depressing. Emphasis on was.)
Bj�rk – Pagan Poetry
Garbage – Nobody Loves You
Placebo – Without You I’m Nothing
Garbage – The Trick is to Keep Breathing
Sarah McLachlan – Posession
Nine Inch Nails – A Warm Place
White Town – Your Woman

I want to burn it, but I’d have to get offline, and I don’t want to. It’s 1:04–I should though. I want Gattaca. I want a future to live for. I want–I don’t know what I want. I’m afraid I’m hurting Jordan. I’ve been so mean to him. He’s given so much–how could I hate him? I just don’t want this to end…I don’t want to be the bad guy. So we don’t have similar interests–oh who am I kidding. I’m going to propose a book night where we just get together and read. He says he never has time to read at his house, so I’ll give him a reading environment. If he wasn’t lying about wanting to read, he’ll take the opportunity. If he finds Brave New World boring, I’ll lend him Voltaire’s Candide. No person on this earth–with the possible exception of the Marquis de Sade–could be bored by Candide. Or by Vonnegut. Vonnegut will be my next choice if Voltaire fails. And if reading night fails, I fear our entire relationship will go down the toilet with it as well. I just can’t stand him not knowing anything. I now take it as my personal responsibility to cram art, philosophy, and 21st century thought into him whether he likes it or not. I just can’t stand how he doesn’t know things.

Daniela isn’t mad at me, she called me today to inform me she found out the solution to one of our enigmas, what this one guy Jeff was going to do at twelve the night we went to the casino. It was his 30-year-old girlfriend. Daniela made some great Odeipal complex jokes–which is ironic considering how much Freud irks her.

I’ve been meditating on what I didn’t like about our conversation on the way up–and I think the main vein of it is that she will defend positions that she doesn’t agree with. I know that it is the mark of an educated mind to entertain an idea without accepting it, but she takes it to an extreme. But at least the conversation made me ponder its content for days–unlike my conversations with the rest of the world, to which I meditate on for probably about ten seconds. Stupidity is the bane of the world. I wish I had long hair. I’m going to post this and go to sleep because I have to go to the bathroom.

I don’t know whether I mentioned this before, but I heard the imbecile Liz took her blog offline or changed the address. How sad. Probably changed the address. Well, I’m off. And not in that way.

Categories: Uncategorized

> Aphex Twin – Mt. Saint Michael Mix+St. Michaels Mount
> Rammstein – Nebel
> Elastica – S.O.F.T.
> Lipps, INC – Funkytown
> Audioslave – Like A Stone

I am so depressed. I haven’t been this depressed in ages. I tried using the phone to help me feel better–didn’t work. I helped my mom proofread her paper (it came out so great) and that made me feel good for a little while, then I called Kathy and Kelly, but that was kind of depressing because they’re so far away. I’m depressed that I’m through with Jordan. Maybe next time I see him I won’t be so apathetic, but I doubt it. Depression fucking sucks. I was so happy–what happened? I called Mindy after I called Kathy and Kelly–big mistake. I ended up using up a shitload of minutes on my calling card and feeling even more depressed. I started eating sugar cubes about ten minutes ago–a futile attempt at self-medication. Why am I so depressed? God. I guess it’s partly because of the less than perfect conversation with Daniela on the way up from Arcata. I called her to tell her that I accidentally grabbed one of her books, and she was all “Ok, bye.” Depressing. That whole episode with Mindy–I just wanted to blurt things out. Here’s a boiled-down version of how the conversation went:

Mindy: Oh hi, we’re moving to Reno, Garrett (her husband) got a job there.

Me: Gosh, that’s much further away.

Mindy: Yeah…

Me: Well–when we were 30 minutes apart we didn’t see each other either.

Mindy: I just don’t know my way around town–I know my way to the bank to deposit my check, the way to the mall, and the way to Domino’s.

Me [what I wanted to say] Gosh…it’s too bad you don’t know your way around. I guess the only one who does is Garrett. It’s probably because you’re a woman–I mean, how is a woman supposed to do anything without a man? How is it like to be a prisoner in your own house? Why wouldn’t you risk getting lost to see a supposedly good friend? I would. Are you really that dumb that you can’t find your way to SACRAMENTO? How sad.

Me [what I really said]: That sucks. I guess I’ll try to visit if I ever get my license [probably a lie].

Um–more small talk–lies about e-mailing her. Now I’m committed to e-mailing her and I know it will just depress me, sniffing about this corpse of a relationship. Daniela was my ersatz Mindy, Taggart was my ersatz Richard. I’m never going to be free. I’m never going to overcome. Every time I think I can, something just rips the heart strings apart. I thought this post was going to be longer, but there’s not much to say. I hope something happens that will assuage this loneliness. I think the main pyre of this black inferno of depression is the fact that I will never be satisfied with just “love,” which Jordan provides. I want intellect. Intellect. Pure, unadulterated thought. Abstractions. Concepts. Ideas. Debate. Logic. Logos. Philosophy. An exchange of ideas. I get nothing. I get fucking and cuddling. I get a person to hang out with all the time. I get nothing I want. I just want something I can never have. I need a goth boi. I don’t care how big of a poser he is. I want someone who at least pretends to appreciate Poe, Hawthorne, Huxley, Orwell, Rand, and Freud. GOD DAMN EVERYTHING.

Funkytown is on–that’s my song. It was written about New York, I want to move there so bad. I’m going to die in this place. Everything and everyone I love is somewhere else. I need to get a job. Maybe then I won’t feel so depressed, I’d have money to spend on happy movies. I could watch Gattaca right now and not feel bad in the least. Well I would, but it would be a glorious reverie of blackness instead of the suffocating pitch-black dead star that it is now.

I feel like Jared–reveling in a poetic abyss. I feel like an emo kid “I’m so depressed.. LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME.” I don’t want anyone to look at me. So I’m having a bad day, everybody does. I very rarely at all complain about being depressed, but when I do everyone thinks it’s some fucking act for attention. When people start asking me what’s wrong, I tell them I’m fine, I’m happy. Everybody is happy. (Yes, that was a Brave New World allusion.) How could I even start saying what’s wrong with the world? Maybe I could start at the beginning. I’m going to brainstorm for a novela. Does that mean short story? I don’t know. It sounds good.

Didn’t brainstorm–just ate rasins and watched TV. It’s cold. I don’t know what to do.

Categories: Uncategorized

I just heard the most blasphemous joke ever:

How do you stop six black men from gang-raping a white woman?
Throw a basketball.

So bad, but so funny. Daniela would so slap me. Drove around with Royce and James tonight. I guess Royce and James are going out–they were holding hands and Royce pierced James’ tounge. Hm. We were planning on going to the club Wednesday but I was talking with Daniela about it and I realized it’s so not going to be fun with Jordan and Royce. Nothing against them, it just won’t be a uber-fun me and Daniela adventure if they tag along. I think I’m going to lie to Jordan and go with Daniela. Well, we wouldn’t be able to sleep in if Jordan went because he has school in the morning. And I HATE not being able to sleep in after a fun night. Kelly e-mailed me. And so did Taggart– so weird. Here it is:

“my e-mail is gay i can’t acsess it!
so this is my new acount
talk to me”

Talk about being succinct. Well, I’m kind of tired. I’m going to write Taggart back and go to bed.

Categories: Uncategorized

Fucking fuck. I’m stuck here for five hours after Poli Sci. I hate it–well, Daniela wasn’t in Religions so I just ogled Nalen the whole time. He has such an amazing body–I hope he never opens his mouth and proves beyond a doubt that he’s stupid. Well, he couldn’t be stupider than certain people who will remain nameless. Um, talked to Jeanine a bit in the class, she was dreading the potluck thing tonight in Photography. I’m dreading it because I can’t get any work done. But I will get to eat the deviled eggs. Yum! Maybe that’s a reason to stay, I don’t know. Well, Diane (the teacher) will finally see what work I’ve done. I wonder if she’ll like any of it. Perhaps so, perhaps not. I’ve already finished the poetry assignment. I wonder what she’ll have me do next. I’ve made some really cool prints with those transparency thingies. Transparency thingies. I’m now officially Liz Gaddy. God. I sent Christine an e-mail–she wanted me to come over and get the movie at Danielle’s house, but as Danielle’s parents have made it so abundantly clear that they never want me in the same zip code as their house, we’re going to have to work something out. I made this one print with a chart of simulacra I got from the net, but it was too big, so I printed out another one today. Perhaps I’ll print out another transparency while I’m just sitting here. Oh!!!! I called the Crescent Shitty library and asked them if they had Valley of the Dolls and they said yes! I had the chick hold it for me, I’m going to try to get Jordan to drive me there before six when they close. I hope he magically got some gas. Oooh, I can’t wait to read it and to eat deviled eggs. Eek! food. Oh, Daniela and I took our Poli Sci test and then went and ate lunch at Cazadores, I had fried ice cream for the first time, it was so good! Then we went over to her house to watch movies. We watched Boxing Helena, it was so strange. We had to fast-forward through the end though, Daniela was late picking up her little sister. I didn’t wash my hair today–big mistake. It’s all oily and disgusting. I hate it. I need to wash my face. Right goddamn now. FUCKING FUCK! It’s only been seven minutes. I fucking swear, when I’m with cool people an hour will feel like a second. Fuck. It’s never going to be 5:00

Categories: Uncategorized