aspie ranting |
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If I seem a little distant or incoherent, it's because I am. I am not a NeuroTypical and I have no desire to become one. This is simply the area in which I stim my creative impulses. (WARNING: All entries are either ENTIRELY TRUE or ENTIRELY FALSE and anything claiming to be one of the latter is, in fact, one of the former. There are no exceptions to this rule.) comments, marriage proposals, and death threats can be sent here 
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Wednesday, February 28, 2001
*pulls out his rubber stamp and firmly plants it on his wall leaving the image of a flower with an "X" through it* *smiles* I have a dirty little secret... Tuesday, February 27, 2001
"Strange things are happening at the circle K..." -- Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure In the last couple of days (it seems like so much longer; so much has happened), I have been mostly down and out... well, more down than out, but bear with me. My mind has been a faint conspirator with my heart. Old (girl)friends have offered me much solace in these rough times. I couldn't have even hoped for them to talk to me, let alone make me feel better about everything. v -- yes, I remember the theatre... I remember the surge of adrenaline and the feeling of being alive when they called you out from hiding... t -- your brilliant wit amazes me and I love you more than you think I do... you've helped me through some rough times and I thank you... I still have your poems and I read them when I'm really down... they make me remember our word games and guessing colors and numbers... I miss you. and now, my life is steering me into a telephone pole that has a poster telling me to close myself up like I was before maggie... I know it would be safe, but what is the point of a world with nobody to talk to, nobody to love, and nobody to learn from? I'm at a turning point in my life... I hate these things... everyday, I'm like Prometheus, tortured, but my gift was the warmth of love... How can you sleep in this world with bovine excreta as your bed fellow? How can you lie in the face of love? (and most people know the first two words of that Horace quote... and if you know it, then why don't you live by it?) Love may be best defined as the pasion of hatred inflamed to the point of madness, when it takes refuge in Self-destruction. Love is clear-sighted with the lust of deadly rage, anatomizing its victim with keen energy, seeking where best to strike home mortally to the heart; it becomes blind only when its fury has completely overpowered it, and thrust it into the red maw of the furnace of self-immolation. igni natura renovatur integra... You should come close to me today Your beauty still causes me madness, What you concieve as imagination For what I most want to know All about "To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead." -- Bertrand Russell "From ancient grudge to new mutiny Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean." -- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliette Monday, February 26, 2001
To annalee: "But I think, if you would not do it yourself, there's no justice about it... Let us have another game." -- Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment fitting, no? and the parasites, they say tonight have eaten at my brain and strewn it our across the sky, falling like winter's rain. the remnants of the hope I saw have all but faded to black and I can't say I hope for more than the two of us back. Sunday, February 25, 2001
As I sit here in front of my computer with my head weighing heavily upon my tense and tired shoulders, I can feel a treaty being signed between my eyes and my mind -- the former wanting to close and never open, for wanting of such perfection to cast light upon them and also for rest; the latter knowing, not knowing, feeling, dying, and confused beyond all hope of sanity or an approximate simulation thereof -- to meet halfway; both agree that crying is of best consequence. I can't think of anything. My mind simply won't settle. The only words left are fed by my eyes: and if I never see the beauty of your exquisite perfection in flesh, then no sight again will teach me to love but my memories of you. Love should never take a backseat to anything... you cannot see, but this world is made of finely spun glass... we live in a world where anyone can be smashed in an instant, carelessly or maliciously as the case might be, but in any case shattered beyond repair... Saturday, February 24, 2001
"All poets and writers who are in love with the superlative want more than they are capable of." -- Nietzsche There are no reasons, rationales, or excuses. It cannot be explained, and refuses to answer questions. It wants to be there. It will defend itself, viciously, against all attacks. It wants to be there. To find its weak spots, its sensitive areas, we must try to understand how it became so tremendous. We must know its patterns, its rationales and defenses. We must be able to locate its roots, and destroy their infectious footing. It is tricky and deceitful, so let's be careful, for we cannot be sure when it might turn around and maim us. It's somewhat worm-like, at least in its initial stages: small, sleazy, vulnerable and somewhat innocent seeming. It will crawl through your ears when you're down or confused. It will slither deep into your brain, growing now, for it has shelter and space to move. It will consume you and your energy, leaving you barely enough to survive. As the days pass; it will become enormous, gaining structure and texture. It will no longer be worm-like and discrete. It will thrive on visibility; it will jump on any chance. It has to announce itself, to glorify itself or to defend itself. It will speak through your mouth, and you will listen through its ears. You will see through its eyes, and you will feel through its organs. You will become it, or it will become you. It will give you reference, reason and ideas. It will control you. You will be tied within its boundaries. You will think, speak and act the way it wants you to. You will rattle your bars or pound on the walls, and it will laugh at your frustration, snickering, knowing that it has dominated you. There are no ways out, but... We will save you from your defeat; we will free you from your bondage and show you how to avoid the repetition of this agony. There is only one effective weapon against this beast, which is unmatched in its strength and impeccable in its purity. We call this weapon desire. We have learned of it through learning about ourselves. We have found that we've always been capable of wielding its power, but that we had neglected it and lost sight of its glory. The fluidity of desire's form became intangible to us. We had lost an understanding of its form through our obsession with form. We forgot about desire and pretended as if it was never there. But luckily, we sensed our own poverty and looked deep inside ourselves, knowing that something was wrong. What we found disturbed us profoundly. We found that alien beast, ruling and running us, with the utmost in cruelty and sterility. And hidden within the tyrannical labyrinths of this monster, we found desire, struggling to survive, desperately seeking release from its choking hold. In desire we found a piece of ourselves we had repressed so long ago, we felt comforted, as if we had regained a bit of our youthful energy. We rejoiced in its beauty. But we were desperate, because we knew that if desire was not freed from the clutches of the beast, it would recede into the nowhere land of lost hopes, and we would no longer be able to enjoy its flourishing company. Frantically, we gave all our energy to desire. We pushed, shoved and shouted until desire was able to break free. We helped desire, and in its beautiful purity it extinguished the alien influence of the beast once and for all. Ideology, that's what we like to call the beast, ran with its tail between its legs, deep into oblivion: Never to be seen near us again. Since those days of conflict, desire has regained its health and found comrades of suitable quality. It has taught how to love and respect. We urge you to enhance the richness of your life with desire, to trust desire, TO TRUST YOUR DESIRES. I swear, this optimistic part of me is going to be what finally drives me completely mad. As insecure as I am, there is a part of me that knows that my mind operates differently from most (at least 98%) of other people. Maybe my mind is defective in that it wants to believe there is hope for people beyond silly fears and stupid primal social castes. I know what love is. Maybe you think that's a little hard for a nineteen year old to grasp, but I'm not a normal person. Ask anyone I know; it's what drives most people away from me. Whatever you feel, please, let it be free... don't hold it in. And this is not just to her, this is to all of humanity... *chuckles* I wrote about this in 10th grade... maybe I'll dig up that paper... people didn't understand it then, so maybe now's the time. Time has run out for love; Tonight, I am gone. It came on so suddenly -- surprisingly tranquil... My heart is broken beyond repair and the earth is smiling. swallow me whole. taste my end, and laugh... Friday, February 23, 2001
Thursday, February 22, 2001
every one of your delicate tears strikes like liquid thunder. tears of joy are no adjunct to the beautiful repercussions. the pain, the unbearable pain of love denied, the searing coals embroidered in my heart melt me and boil tears to surface. and the sharp edge of nothingness is killing me. you rarely show me anything of your feelings... why might that be? it all just seems to easy to think you're not with me. I love to see you quiver, I love to hear you moan, and after spending time with you, my mind is all but blown. Frustration is crawling across my being. I always knew I was never enough, and today is beginning to show me that. I wish I could do something of worth for someone, but I fear that every time I try, I make things worse. I may not be a good friend to many, but for some, I'd do anything. I wish I could do something right. I wish I knew what to do. I wish that people could trust me because I care. and on a side note (to her): I had a wonderful time today, for the most part. Two things upset me; you deliberately didn't let people see us together and you made me feel worthless by telling me that I wasn't good enough to make you "happy." So, for the rest of you, now I will go sulk for a bit. Forgive my sullen demeanor. "Now I'd rather bleed out a long stream from being lonely and feel blessed than drown laying face down in a puddle of respect." -- The Wallflowers, I've Been Delivered So what, my dear, The mind and the body are famous You are not immune, You might pull out a ruler to measure Dear one, Wednesday, February 21, 2001
Starbucks is nice... but I don't just want to go for coffee... I want to own the whole franchise... if you know what I mean... Flawless as Aphrodite, Thoroughly beautiful, The faint odour of attraction, Faint, almost, as the lines of cruelty about your smile, Assails me, and concerns me almost a little. Tuesday, February 20, 2001
Do you know how beautiful you are? I think not, my dear. For as you talk, I see saints bowing in the mountains Do you know how beautiful you are? I think not, my dear, Yet I "Humans always do the most intelligent thing after every stupid alternative has failed." -- R. Buckminster Fuller "Things which appear crude or offensive in the instant may become, with a change of perspective, somewhere between droll and riotously funny." -- Hannibal Lecter, M.D. Monday, February 19, 2001
Everybody knows the secrets that we have and everybody knows what we do... but nobody knows I love you... Sunday, February 18, 2001
Your attachments! My dear, For I understand the sufferings I know So I often stop And Applaud I'm afraid, dear love, of what your answer might be. In the feigned ecstasy of a moment of uncertainty prolonged unnaturally, I worry that my assuaged fears may be more real than you lead me to believe. You had me babe, but I, I never had you... Love came over me And bathed me in light; When we kissed, I saw that light, But it was no longer blinding Or harsh: It was the soft, warm light Of love's omnidirectional halo Extending around Us. Saturday, February 17, 2001
My heart is an unset jewel Tonight I am dying in these cold hours I have a fear. I have a fear that some might call unfounded. I have a fear that is real anyway. I have a fear that you will hurt me, because you don't want the same things as I do. I will probably want a relationship out of this and you probably just want some play. so here I am asking, pleading, don't give me more than you can... Thursday, February 15, 2001
Gazing into your lustrous eyes today, I couldn't help but feel the wanton desire which I thought died with the last of the troubadors. I hate to fall into clich�, but I felt something I thought I'd never feel again. holding back has never been quite so laboured, I wish I could explain, this attraction is exhilerating and amazing, holding back with naught but pain... Take on of my tears, And watch the salt in the wounds O take one of my tears For there is so much More to this life Wednesday, February 14, 2001
Tuesday, February 13, 2001
Monday, February 12, 2001
Like Sunday, February 11, 2001
Sitting here Alone again I am like an elegant cypress Why not When every On to my "boo": Don't worry I will gladly borrow all the gold To get you rachel, Has anyone seen the mark of the beast yet? How long do you think you can hide it? *grins wildly* Saturday, February 10, 2001
Never point at a rainbow... it will only bring more rain. Rainbows always seemed kind of melancholy to me anyway. The only happy rainbow I ever saw was a double-rainbow when I was 5 years old. again, the stagedoors close and the curtain descends... but this is not like the other nights, no, this is not anything like those... the star is dead on arrival because nobody thought to prep him for disaster... Thursday, February 08, 2001
I am like a heroin addict For that ground of Conscious Nothing And this Friend What else would you expect Out of the ashes of this broken frame Since we first met, Beloved, Now that the heart has held And from that I cry for more lonliness. For what is more alone than Me? Today love has gutted me. Speechless, And in this Wednesday, February 07, 2001
Your thousand perfections rend my body. I will wear I will turn myself into a If Dear ones, To bring anesthetic relief When That reveals your heart's Tuesday, February 06, 2001
Dear everyone, Sorry, but it's time I'm on my way... Take care of my loves for all eternity. -- me and what if excess of love bewildered them until they died... I am glad There is a kind of adultery... Your spirit needs to leave the bed Monday, February 05, 2001
how can you, touch play me a song, I can't I have heard the Beloved Something on the order of: "Hey, Beloved, You better start kissing me -- One regret, dear world, I have fallen in love with Someone We should talk about this problem -- Otherwise, You don't have to act crazy anymore -- We all know you were good at that. Now, retire my dear, From all that hard work you do Of bringing pain to your sweet eyes and heart. Sunday, February 04, 2001
"Karma is only justice without the satisfaction... and I don't believe in justice." -- The Way of the Gun Until defiance built of its own ache A truth less tame than the truth of Death. Until terror built of its own heat A truth more wild than the truth of Life. *screams* I've had this damned line of poetry running through my head for a solid 24 hours... "And the light falls, remir, From her breast to thighs." -- Ezra Pound Friday, February 02, 2001
love comes in many colours, but the sky is always blue. the colours don't look good on me but pain looks good on you. Thursday, February 01, 2001
(for love and apologies) ~~~~~ je suis ce cours de sable qui glisse entre le galet et la dune la pluie d'�t� pleut sur ma vie sur moi ma vie qui me fuit poursuit et finira le jour de son commencement I hate my singing voice... I mean, at least now I can sing in tune most of the time, but when I play guitar and sing, I lose all track of rhythm and that causes me to forget the next chords... and then I make wierd frustrated noises... blah! don't mind me, I'm trying to sing Wish You Were Here... |
faeries have died because YOU haven't been clapping hard enough.