The Diary of Antoine Roquentin

> Placebo - Something Rotten
> Placebo - Sleeping With Ghosts
> Placebo - Special Needs
> Placebo - Protect Me From What I Want

I finally looked up the lyrics of “Something Rotten” and had the DISTURBING realization that this song is about someone giving someone a blowjob and then the person farts or something. I can so never listen to this song again:

It seems we’re here I
Miss you something rotten
The stinks are here
It’s guaranteed all’s forgotten
Down here
Down here it’s clear that your uncut
Don’t fear
Don’t fear, keep all this forgotten
Face down
Face down
Face down, I miss you something rotten
Face down
Face down, this crown is broken rotten

Down here, down here, I know its not, it’s all forgotten
Down here, down here, face down, I miss you something rotten
Down here, down here, it stinks, it stinks of something rotten
Don’t fear, don’t fear, keep all this forgotten
There’s something rotten down here
There’s something rotten down here…

HOW FREAKING DISTURBING. But, I digress. Jeff is going to have sex with someone, so he can’t chat with me. I was all: IRL? (in real life) and he’s all “yeah.” Which was weird, because I thought he was just a webcam slut, but he’s a real slut too! Yay! More of my people! I simply can’t bring myself to hate “Something Rotten.” It brings back a memory. Yes, that bad. I’ve heard that Jordan has been slumming around the college looking for me. Sad really. I kind of hope I see him so we can exchange keys and I never have to talk to him again. He says he still likes me, or something like that. You can’t love what you don’t understand. If he understood me and wanted to get back on my good side, he would read Brave New World. But he never will. He is a vacuous lecher. I mean, with people like Jeff, it’s cool to be oversexed–it’s his thing. He does it with finesse. He’s hot and bothered. Like a cover girl. But Jordan is just hungrily grubbing in the mud for vulgar carnal pleasure. I guess it’s the difference between being libertine and knowing what the word libertine means. The difference between the sensual allure of Cleopatra versus the loathsomeness of a smelly prostitute. Must stop listening to his damn song–it’s putting images in my head. I should not be picturing Brian Molko doing that–but I know he has, so that’s what makes it so much cooler. I love Brian Molko, he’s my love god. He has written such beautiful lyrics about love and such. I wish I could invade his privacy and know about all his boyfriends and everything. Damn lack of telepathy.

I really love this “Sleeping With Ghosts” song. It reminds me of the guy in that movie Urbania–so sad. Love is so strange. Everyone that’s read Of Human Bondage will get the next bit. I wonder–am I Philip or Mildred? I can only hope Philip. I really feel a sense of kinship with W. Somerset Maugham. Of Human Bondage was loosely autobiographical. Oh well. I can’t help thinking of Taggart when I listen to “Sleeping With Ghosts.” The main lyric is “soulmates never die.” It kind of depresses me. I guess, Brian is right, they do never die, they live on in our memories, or some similar bullshit. I hate that my relationship with Taggart never was a relationship. He used to carry this book around that he called his “journal” or something like that, and all it had was random funny facts.

I guess if I were to use one word to describe Taggart it would be raconteur. That’s all he is. That’s all he’ll ever be. Maybe he’ll go into entertainment, that way he can go on ET and tearfully confess his unending problems to legions of loving people hanging on every word. I agree with Freud. Once we get to about five years old, we just stop developing emotionally. We can pretend that we overcome our emotions with enough episodes of Oprah and Dr. Phil, but we all know deep down that we’re fucked. Joe hit Lisa becomes Joe is an abusive husband, and Lisa is a battered wife–nobody ever becomes more than they are. We all are doomed to failure in the human endeavour. I feel like I’ve been verbose my whole life (my mom tells me anecdotes to the effect). I feel like I’ll never be more than a quiet, precocious child who loves to be with his friends because he never had any as a child. We can never become more than what we are. The world is doomed.

None of my friends blog any more except for Tawna. I haven’t read her blog in ages. I’d go to it, but I’m downloading porn. And since I’m on my old computer it would take ages to open a new window and go there. I’ll read it after work tomorrow. Oh, today after work Molly was at the Triplicate taking a picture of Virginia Burbaker for the Drift. She’s like the only one that’s been working on stuff. Everyone has given up. We’re all burned out. I’m still enthused, but I think I’m the only one. I don’t want to write stories though, I just want to do layout. I guess I’ll have to write stuff if I’m to keep the Drift franchise afloat. We MUST get that stupid lady to give us our billing stuff back–she is so unreliable. I’m going to do billing once she gives us the crap back. Oh! We got a new digital camera! I can’t wait to play around with it. It’s in Molly’s office. I developed two more rolls of film today. There was this overweight lady with poofy hair in the developing room that kept presuming that I didn’t know what I was doing. And she kept insisting that the film reels that are made to come apart to take the film off broke when you took them apart. It’s impossible to get the film off any other way. I had to just do it for her. I didn’t really look at the negatives I developed, I just put them in the drying case and left. The negatives I developed last time are AMAZING. There are a bunch of shots from the carnival and a bunch of stuff from the camping trip. When Sammie and Tawna stole my camera and took pictures of the bunny it came out! I can just barely see the bunny on the negative. I’m going to make a big print of the bunny when I finally get my paper. Diane is going to do a group order of a bunch of paper and supplies. I hope to be able to buy some soon, I’m going to have to pay that damn sixty dollar DMV fee. Oh well, I get paid what I get paid. I love tautologies. My life is one.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in one of those sci-fi movies where every day is the same, and nothing changes. Oh well. I need a boyfriend. I’m so bored with life. And running low on porn. I’d rather feel something than nothing. Oh, that reminds me, Molly told me that there’s a gay faculty member. I love that feeling, the “I’ve found my people!” feeling. Maybe I’ll finally meet a gay smart person! Eek! I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ll get this excited again until I meet a smart black person. I just want to point up to the sky and go “a-HA! Fuck your stereotypes! He’s not stupid and shallow!” I love non-shallow people. Molly was talking about having this Terry dude co-advise the Drift so she can have less of a role in the paper. I’m not sure about it, I think that unless we pump up the fun aspect of the Drift, it’s going to die. Nobody wants to do it any more. We don’t go to any conferences, we don’t ever bond–we’re doomed. I sincerely hope the Drift doesn’t die. I really like it. We need to break out of the rut. We need to be dynamic and ever-changing. We should install InDesign and completely revamp the Drift, starting with the accursed masthead. It really needs to go. In Tim Harrower’s book he says that college papers should redesign once a year. I’m ready for one. Well, my wrists kind of hurt and it’s like eleven. I should go to sleep. I wonder who’s online. Nobody cool. I really want to talk to this one guy, godspoeta, again because he convinced me to get my kilt and like, I have it and love it and want to thank him. I was about to use too many commas in that last sentence and it reminded, me of, this letter, to the editor, that I typed today, that looked, like this. He just didn’t, get it, that you don’t, use commas, every, two words. It annoyed the living hell out of me. If he bitches to me about changing his letter, I will be very angry. He won’t though. It’s our job to make those damn fools sound eloquent.

Freaking Bernadette deleted all her e-mails before she left! I was very angry. I lost Molly’s La Leche League thing and everything. GRR. Well, she’s pregnant–I guess I can’t blame her. This is completely off the record, but on her last day she went into Mike Schmeltzer’s office and clipped the springs in his pens. Supposedly, he clicks pens obsessively. I thought that was very unprofessional. The more I ponder her, the more I think that she was not a good worker. I made a somewhat serious mistake (I put a community calendar item under the wrong date) and she’s all “Don’t worry, I do that all the time.” I can only hope she was just saying that to make me feel better. My mom says she’s a “toxic person.” Whatever mom. We get along much better when we don’t live together. When we live together I’m about ready to kill her in a month or so. But at least she knows how to use the computer now. However, common sense isn’t her strong suit. She hasn’t done anything flagrantly dumb lately, but I guess that’s because I’m not living there. I’m being mean–she really isn’t that dumb, she’s just a little slow, but it just grates on my nerves after a while. My wrists hurt, I should go to sleep. I need to meet a cute, witty, intelligent, well-read, well-dressed boi. But I guess so does everyone. I can still picture some of Jordan’s fashion disasters. He dressed like a bum the last time I saw him, which was really sad. If you go over to someone’s house that you’re having problems with, you don’t dress like a fourteen year old bum.

OH GOD. Tawna told me that Jordan asked her where I worked. She said that she couldn’t remember (I love you Tawna!!!) but still–he’s going to find out sooner or later. I hope to god that he doesn’t embarass me at work. Molly called me at work today, which was kind of cool. Oh, I don’t know if I already blogged it, but she asked me to write a little movie list for the entertainment page, and I made this cool little quiz! It’s not done, but it’s so cool anyway. I’m sure she’ll like it, even if it isn’t printable. I’m going to finish it after work tomorrow. Oh, back to Jordan. Molly and I talked for a while after work (I treasure conversations with smart people), and she was saying that Jordan probably read my blog and knew that I was going to Endert’s Beach to camp. However, if he read my blog he’d know where I work–I think. I haven’t expressly said “I work at the Triplicate” before, but (I guess this is the key) if he was smart he could figure out that I work at a newspaper, and which one it is just by my posts. I’m sure I’ve mentioned things like “Triplicate Job,” so I’m sure he’s not reading my blog. I would say that he asked Tawna that to confuse me, but that would mean he’s smart. But he’s not. His level of cunning ends at asking where I work. I would say that I shouldn’t underestimate him, but come on–it’s Jordan. Sammie (Samantha) says that he keeps showing up at her house unannounced. I sincerely think he has an autism spectrum disorder, because he doesn’t understand the subtlties of human interactions. Charley says that in high school he’d just stand there when it was obvious that nobody liked him. Charley made fun of him in high school, and there Jordan went and showed up at Ocean World to talk to him. Sad.

I mean, I show up at Royce’s house as much as I can (I stopped by today but he wasn’t home), but that’s different–Royce doesn’t have a phone to announce visits–and I’ve been friends with Royce for a while. He’s not there most of the times I stop by anyway. The only way Jordan knows Sammie is through the Mormon Church. I’ve had sex with Royce. Jordan barely knows Sammie. He’s like a stalker, one of those autistic kids that follow you around. I’d make a reference to Chuck and Buck (a movie) but I haven’t seen it, only the previews. I think that it deals with that subject. I need a good IFC movie. There have been the stupidest movies on IFC lately. Pulp Fiction is supposed to debut sometime this freaking century. I should just rent it, I hate when I miss something and can’t rewind. This Placebo song “Protect Me From What I Want” is interesting. I should be protected from what I want. Well, my wrists hurt, and tomorrow is going to be a killer. On Fridays I have to update the FYI and Community Calendar all the way until Monday, since they don’t come out on Saturday or Monday. Curses. I must go. Oh, that band I found was called Collide, and they flagrantly sucked. I listened to the whole CD today. Any feedback on my situation? Drop me an e-mail or comment.