Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in M.'s LiveJournal:

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Sunday, September 8th, 2002
11:39 pm	Pacing maniacally, nervously, eyes glancing around everywhere at every time, not muttering, but thinking so hard that if I started talking to myself, I wouldn't be surprised. . .tottering. Just a little. I'm standing on the ledge and pacing, and I'm tottering, but it's not enough to stop me, hardly enough to even concern me, and it occurs to me that I could die or break or shatter right here right now with one misstep from one misthought. . .I look at the half smoked cigarette in my left hand and shake my head at it, mocking it, disapproving. . .cigarettes generally give bad advice. And then I smile. Just a little smile. And it doesn't bother me. Not really. But doesn't it, though? All things will shift in due time. All things will change. No, that's not entirely true. Perhaps one thing will remain the same. I'm starting to really like Latin. I expected to hate it - the thing I really wanted to take was Greek, and I saw Latin as kind of a stepping stone - but I've come to seriously appreciate it. . .I think I like it even more than Japanese, which may or may not be saying much. And nowadays, when I'm reading about arcane texts, if it's written in Latin, I shrug and laugh and kind of lose respect for it. Because, well, Latin really isn't that arcane at all. The more I think about Greek and Latin and history and ancient texts, the more I regret turning from my former interest in religion and religious history. My brother called me up the other day, and we had a great conversation regarding what makes a better Jesus myth. I was able to offer some information about the contents of some gnostic texts written around the rise of Christianity. . .I do miss reading and knowing about that sort of thing. I wonder if I'll ever get back around to that. Hmmm. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, September 6th, 2002
4:04 pm	Sometimes, being me is such a bad idea. I would highly suggest another course of action if you are ever in my place. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 3rd, 2002
2:04 am	Tonight almost ended up well despite staying up later than was wise, but then at the last moment, everything everywhere soured, leaving me irritated and flustered and bitter. And now I'm irritated and flustered and bitter. Oh shit. (Comment on this)
Monday, September 2nd, 2002
6:29 pm	We went to Tommmy and Joey's apartment yesterday and partied there. . .the highlight of the experience was lying on the floor and shouting at Tommy, "Hey, Tommy, you're a retarded walrus!" We got up today quite late and had lunch. This was our last chance to hang out with Adam for a little while, and it was pretty cool. He's a good guy. He left an hour or so ago to head back to Dallas, and then Sowmia and I loafed around her room for a while until Erin and Aashish showed up. Erin tried to implement a harebrained plan that entailed hanging Sowmia's surround sound speakers from the ceiling through the use of electrical tape and a wire coat hanger, and it did not end well. It kind of reminded me of the escapades I underwent back at my apartment. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
2:46 pm	I go around doing stuff and thinking stuff and feeling stuff, and nothing feels quite right. I drink sometimes and I pace sometimes and I write sometimes. . .I take walks alone, I take walks with other people. . .I smoke, I eat, I mutter to myself, whispering, chanting a dirge, a song, a poem, a story. Trying to think, trying to remember, trying to solve the mysteries that press down with unendurable strangeness. And something, well, something is wrong. I can feel it. In the air. It doesn't taste right. In my bones. I just feel like things don't add up, like there is some microfracture marring everything. Something bizarre, something unbearable, something dark, darker, darker than I think, something cold and off. Sometimes, I think to myself, "This wasn't the way life was supposed to be," and then I mock myself with laughter. Nothing is ever the way it's supposed to be. I get distracted, yes. I am easily distracted, if not by other people then by other problems. Solving people and solving problems is fun, and it can put more than a wry smile on my face. Standing in the dark, wailing, cursing, howling, and that's all there is. Not too much else matters. Standing there. In the dark. Staring. Maybe another person is there, but you don't talk. Just staring. And that. . .that's all you know how to do. And something is strange and dark and off, something is corrupted and perverted and broken, and maybe it's the world, but more likely it's me. Know thyself, they say. But they say a lot of things. And in the end, there is only one story to tell - the tale of blood and bones. (Comment on this)
Sunday, September 1st, 2002
4:14 am	I am overwhelmingly bitter. I spent most of the day pacing and mumbling and hanging out with folks. Adam is in town for the weekend, and so he was involved in most of what we wound up doing. He's a good man, and he seems quite a bit happier than he did last time I saw him back in April. I also did a little bit of Latin homework and bumbled around some. . .after dinner, we went off to the park. The experience kind of sucked for the first hour or so. . .the last time I went there, the time when I fucked shit up, it was dark and surreal and strange and scary. This time, a hoard of people went along, and the mood was kind of ruined. I spent a sizable chunk of time walking around maniacally and mumbling phrases and ideas and stories to myself. "The time was there, but not the man." The people made me slightly angry. . .I love mystery and wonder and shadows very dearly. The shades of gray, the baroque, the whispers, the secrets are some of the things that make life worth living. And it is so easy to shatter the mysteries or trivialize them or relegate them to the realm of the unimportant. Irritating. Then Sowmia came and found me, and we sat around on the slide for a while and talked. Everyone else got bored and left, leaving us alone. It was very gentle and beautiful and pleasant, and I can think of very few things I would rather have done. Umm. . .tomorrow has to involve work, unfortunately. I have to do a sizable chunk of Greek and then I have to read a bunch of Dostoevsky. Sigh. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, August 30th, 2002
4:58 pm	If the girl sitting next to me in Greek had asked me three years ago why I was taking the class, my answer would probably have been "Septuagint." When she asked me today, I said, "Homer." Pause, some consideration. "And I guess some Euripides and Aeschylus." As recently as last year, I was enthralled by Jewish and Christian symbolism and mythology. I doubt Christianity impressed us with these overpowering symbols; rather it seems more likely that Christianity itself was impressed with these symbols because they are so powerful. I wrote some and read a lot about the subject, and I'm fairly convinced that I know at least something about that of which I spoke. It is undeniable that Christianity's ideas and images touch something big and scary and powerful in me, and I find them almost infinitely attractive. . .One of the best things about my senior year of high school was reading Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and laughing and smirking and nodding my head and saying, "Dude, that is so true!" The catechism, too, is comforting and attractive and big and important. Being a part of something infinite, loving something infinitely, feeling the echoes, the bonds, something in time and beyond time and outside of time. The Church and god and eternity. And eternity, why, eternity is right now and right here, concurrent with the time in which we live. And yet at once it is for all time and past time and forever. A different level, a different layer, in this one and beyond this one. How to reach it? How to reach the Kingdom of Heaven, for that is here too. Through the catechism? I doubt it. It is a mystery, or maybe just a secret. Mmm. Gnosticism. Oh yeah. Umm. . .last night was a lot of fun. Erin made cookies, and I hung out with lots of people, but then I had to bludgeon Sowmia into doing her work. Ultimately, after some diligent bludgeoning on my apart, Sowmia, Aparna, and Gautam went off to study, and I left to engage in a fitful sleep. And that, my dear, is that. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 27th, 2002
1:21 pm	A lot of stuff has been going on over the last few days. . .surprising people, bludgeoning people, cleaning, moving this and moving that. All my thanks to Andrew, Michael, Tommy, and Greg for helping me move my stuff and clean my apartment. It could have been a lot more painful. Mostly, though, beyond moving around and raging, my time has been spent hanging out with folks. And not eating. But only accidentally. I surprised Sowmia a few days ago, and then I bludgeoned her into going to sleep last night. Even so, she still managed to make me even more sorrowful, a feat which I'd thought completely impossible. We had a sleep over in my room too. Or, more accurately, Aparna, Jessica, and I had a sleep over in my bed. Or, more accurately, it wasn't much of a sleep over because sleep went quite poorly. I went with folks to pick Tarang up from the airport, and last night I smoked my pipe with him. Some random guy explained in an incredibly colorful brand of language how one blows smoke rings. I flailed my arms some and slinked around some and gave cleaning up my room a shot. Sigh. A few days ago, before regular people were even allowed to really move in, I was wandering around Blanton. The Q was horribly eviscerated, but the rest of Blanton is much as a I remember it. . .and as I wandered around, I thought and remembered many things. I do not like Blanton, nor do I like the memories contained in it. It's not a place I recollect fondly, and the lion's share of memories make me kind of bitter. But that was in another country, and besides, the wench is dead. Hopefully, things will stay at least as good as they are now. It really is good to see folks again. Classes start again tomorrow, and it really bothers me. I've been going to school on and off for almost a year straight now, and I don't entirely regret it, but even so. I'm tired. Of all of this. And this coming semester will be hard. And I will be even more tired very soon. Oh well. I will live. I always do. But it's criminal. Criminal, criminal, criminal. Grumble, grumble, grumble. Resigned. The first thing I downloaded after hooking my computer was Mozilla. Mozilla is cool. I want to save up to buy an iBook later in the year. Macintosh is cool. I'm kind of surprised and I kind of rue not meeting all that many new people, but, well, I'm not the sort of person who is willing to actually get up and actually do something about it. Characteristic. Grumble. Criminal. Sigh. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, August 23rd, 2002
3:46 am	Someday, when I'm feeling personable and talkative, or alternatively the next time I'm drunk enough, quiz me on what was going on behind the scenes over the course of the spring semester and then the summer. There are some really intersting/embarrassing/disturbing/awful/painful bits that nobody really knows about. Or at least nobody knows all of. And although I pretend to guard many mysteries and secrets, like any man, I'm just dying to narrate my story. Party at Joey and Tommy's tomorrow night. Neat. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 20th, 2002
4:21 am	Less work means more time to be bitter and angry. I've spent a lot of time lately being angry and paranoid and lying on my bed in the dark lecturing about writing and bitterness and the ontology of stuff. If I were four years younger, I might be tempted to record it. As is, it just makes me feel more sad. Things don't change, not really. Perception shifts a little, but when the parallax is reconciled, things are clearer than ever before. You see the reality, the dark reality of people, of things, of yourself. Sometimes, you have to accept what is - fighting it is noble, but you just break your heart. Clumsy hands guided by the highest love can still ruin. Accept it - you're kind of a fuck up. Chuckle, throw in the towel, and put down that pen, because things will never work out. Things were never meant to be like this, you lost the focus, and it isn't over yet, but it should be. Ha. Things will never be all right, not ever, not ever again. Maybe it's darker than you think. It's strange to think that you lost, that you could have been so profoundly wrong about everything - about who you were, about who the people around you were, about what was meant to be, about what would be. They weren't jerks or monsters; just fools. That's because they were as wrong about you as you were about them. The future, it is murky, it no longer makes sense. Not only can't you find the truth of what will be, but also the dreams, the visions are gone. I can no longer read the future. It makes no sense. I wonder if I would even want to even if I could. I do want to go back to the dorms. I do want the fall semester to start. I do want to learn Greek and Latin. That was never an issue, I'm good at it and I enjoy it. But Greek and Latin will likely not make me happy, and when the savagery blooms, perhaps nothing can end it. . .nothing is darker and more feral than shattered dreams and a broken heart. (Comment on this)
Monday, August 19th, 2002
7:52 pm	Mmm. The realization of my rapidly increasing bitterness is putting a damper on whatever hope I've ever had. I kind of want to fold up the sky, stick it in my pocket, and walk away from everyone everywhere. Having so much dislike is kind of tiring. Unfortunately, speaking practically, saying that I hope my next incarnation is better off is rather foolish and cowardly. So here I am. Necesse est enim sit alterum de duobus: aut mors sensus omino aufert aut animus in alium locum morte abit. Si mors somno similis est sensusque exstinguuentur, di boni, quid lucri est mori! - MTC It is tempting, yes. Keep it technical, learn what you have to learn, and then talk shop. An easy and painful way to live. But emphasis on easy. And don't believe everything you read or hear. Certain people change day to day. I mean, there is that Faustus business and what not, but even so. Certain things are not existential, and do fly with the wind. I am not more unhappy than I've ever been because, well, I've been really unhappy before. But I am not happy. (Comment on this)
2:36 am	I spent the lion's share of the day being pleasantly bored. . .I mean, after basically a year of classes with only a few weeks here and there (and the month long winter break) in between, I was about ready to sit around and let my mind go blank. At around nine, my brother showed up, ate some food, and got to work on this awful Livejournal study he's working on. A half an hour later, Rick called me. . .it turns out that his friend Raven lives in the apartment complex right next door, and so I went over there and we went out to dinner and then to a small party. It was neat and fun. Tomorrow looks like it will be somewhat less boring. . .I may hook up with Matthew or Rick, and I very likely will go to a movie with Joey and company. Neat. Meanwhile, my Greek hoplites make short work of those ridiculous barbarians. Roar! Also, I ate an embarrassing amount of fried food and chocolate. But it has made me feel quite upbeat. Roar! (Comment on this)
Sunday, August 18th, 2002
1:40 am	I went out to Joey and Tommy's to make fried ice cream today. . .Rick, Dean, Andrea, Brandy, a friend of Brandy's, and Sarah were there, although that last only briefly. I went shopping with Tommy in order to buy the ingredients for fried ice cream, and meanwhile Joey made fried rice. The rice wound up being only fair - not as good as the fried rice he and I made alone last Friday - but still good. The fried ice cream was a fiasco. . .we scooped the ice cream out and made it into little balls, put them on a cooking sheet, and then put them in the freezer. Only they didn't freeze; in fact, they began to melt. A few hours later, they were more melted than ever, and a coating of melted ice cream covered the sheet. Graaar! By amusing coincidence, Tommy started smoking a pipe just around the time I did. The main difference is that he has more pleasant tobacco and the proper equipment. For your information, a pen cap makes an awful pipe tamper. It was still great, though. We watched Supertroopers, which is a really funny movie. Joey and Tommy were a pleasure, as always. . .and Dean is a great guy. I suppose I don't know him too well, but he seems like a good man. And seeing Rick again was great, and he looks really good. I really did miss him a lot, and I hope to hang out with him some more before school starts. He, too, is a good man. Classes have really worn me down. . .I didn't realize how great a toll having classes year around like this was. I mean, it was worth it, I guess. . .but now all I want to do is sit around and maybe hang out and do nothing. At all. Rumble rumble. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 13th, 2002
11:30 pm	Nothing will ever be all right again. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, August 12th, 2002
10:18 pm	I picked up Italo Calvino's novel If on a Winter's Night a Traveler from PCL today because I'd heard that Calvino is crazy and weird and surreal and wonderful. . .so far, it reminds me very much of a Barth essay from Atlantic Monthly I read last year. Both are very obsesed with dynamic and in some cases recursive storytelling, both are very obsessed with the active reader. I find it amusing; I do not know if I like it yet. I suspect I may get halfway through it, say, "Damn, that Calvino is crazy", laugh, and then and throw the book away. Or return it, depending on my mood. This week won't be so bad. . .I'm sure I'll sleep badly and eat poorly, but I only have two real sessions of Latin left, and, after tomorrow, that means only one more three hour marathon session of translation. Rumor is that Rick is getting back to Austin on Saturday, hopefully sometime after my Latin final, and so that will be cool. After that, I look forward to a week of reading and rest. Sigh. I know that very little of either will probably be involved, but, well, I am that I am. Sometime over the next week, I'm going to try to convince Joey that it would be a good idea to try to make fried ice cream to follow up our night of fried rice last week. Of course, characteristically, I don't actually know how to make fried ice cream. Or more accurately, I only have a rough idea. But, well, bah, I can be a lucky man when the need arises, and I'm not afraid of pan frying foods with my shirt off. That's got to be worth something. My toothbrush, it broke last night. I kept hoping it would get better, but it hasn't. Whimper. I'm so tired and pitiful, I might as well be a possum. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, August 10th, 2002
11:48 am	Fried rice, mead, and potato latkas with Joey last night. Amusingly, even though we had no idea what we were doing, it turned out quite well. The only complaint I have was the use of so much vegetable oil. . .when I pointed out that we should use olive oil instead, Joey replied that not only did he not have any, we were both fairly healthy and thus eating what amounted to fried potatoes glistening with vegetable oil wouldn't hurt us too badly. Grumble grumble, oh well. Last night, I slept surprisingly well. Comparatively, I mean. I remember only waking up once, and I didn't feel like a bleeding wreck come morning. Neat. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 8th, 2002
8:36 pm	I just finished watching the first sixty or so episodes of Kenshin, the four Kenshin OVAs, and the Kenshin movie. And, well, dude. The first chapter of the series - the Tokyo chapter - is amazingly and grossly and awfully kawaii. The fighting really isn't that cool, and the characters and their doings is rather cliched. I admit that I skipped or watched some of them in an accelerated fashion. . .they simply weren't that good. Even so, I persevered until I hit the Kyoto chapter. . .and that made it all worth it. It opened with one of the coolest fight scenes in all of history ever - a sword fight that degenerates into two guys trying to strangle each other - and then goes on from there. It still occasionally shifts into ultra-kawaii mode, but by that point in the series, I came to appreciate these shifts and find them very amusing. It becomes tediously preachy far too often. . .even so, it is great. Maybe even insanely great (well, as samurai style anime goes). Perhaps it wasn't as cool and interesting and amazing as Evangelion, but it was far more enjoyable. The OVAs, which are a prequel to the series, are also quite good - they are very well animated, and in the context of the series as a whole, are downright heartbreaking/edifying/badass/beautiful. The Kenshin movie, which takes place roughly in the middle of the series, is somewhat disappointing, especially compared to the OVAs, and I'm not sure how worth watching it was. And there are problems with Kenshin. Big ones. How many badass sword masters are out there? How many times will some mysterous master swordsman who has not been mentioned until right then right there spring from Kenshin's past? Why is it that by the end of the Kyoto chapter, Kenshin is established as the most powerful swordsman of Japan (with a couple of exceptions), and yet every fight he engages in afterwords still entails him using his powers to the utmost? Yes, I know, this fault appears in all kinds of places - it takes the whole of the X-Men to defeat Mr. Sinister when the whole of the X-Men are present, but when it's just Cyclops against Mr. Sinister, Cyclops will do. Even so, waking up at seven in the morning every day of the week is beginning to grate on me quite a lot, and by the time I come home at five-ish, I'm almost too tired to even read. Watching anime is a great alternative to moving around and doing stuff. What next? It's a mystery! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 6th, 2002
10:27 pm	Upon waking, I received (to my horror) an email from Sowmia with a Word document attached. At first, I was a bit wary - I mean, really now, if anyone hates me and desires to raze my computer to the ground, it's Sowmia. Nonetheless, I opened the file, and to my surprise, it was a work entitled "Sowmia's Dictionary of Mattisms." Among the entries were "Rowrowrow", which was rightfully listed as archaic, "1337", the definition of which made me mutter to myself, and "grmph." This fine gift impressed me and sickened me, and both of these emotions made me laugh. Sigh. Grrm. I'm so tired. I'm off now to bludgeon sleep until his face is no longer pretty. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, August 5th, 2002
9:58 am	One of the most amusing things, and also perhaps among the things that has made me cringe the most, over the last couple weeks was Gautam quizzing Michael about Wicka, Magick, and Tarot. Gautam: Wait, so the Tarot tells a story? Like, what, on the back of the cards? Gautam: So when you buy all of the packs and collect all of the cards, you can just stop, right? Gautam: Wickans eat babies, right? Gautam: This craaazy lady on television says she can read my future! Is that true? Gautam: Rrrar! I'm a wizard! Look! I'm bending spoons! Gautam: No, really. They do eat babies, don't they? Gautam: So. . .when they get in a circle and chant, do they wear war paint? Gautam: No. Seriously. Eating. Babies. Grrrar. At least my dad seemed to be amused by his ridiculous arm flailing rant that involved using a radar-gun-laser to mess with LEDs and give people cancer. I suppose I should keep the boy out of polite company from now on. He's just so sad and cute and spaztic and birdlike, I can't resist trying to keep him from falling apart. I find the more I'm around my parents, the more sullen I feel. Sigh. Looks like there's going to be more sullenness coming up. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 1st, 2002
6:34 pm	Um. Evidently, 'stine has been trying to contact me so we can get our stuff back from each other, and I think she left a message on my voicemail. My recent turn-off-and-ignore-the-phone policy has backfired on me, I reckon. Amusingly, I have emerged from it in time for my brother to inform me of these developments. I made a stew today. It involved two cans of beef broth, half a large onion, half a large garlic clove, some tofu, a lot of black eyed peas, rosemary, and some chilli pepper. It did not turn out well, and now I'm all grumbly. I think I may order pizza. I'm a bad man. Er. Latin is spiraling madly into the heavens, spiraling out of control, and all I can do is mumble principle parts to myself. Here we go. (2 Comments |Comment on this)