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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Monday, September 30, 2002
"You're not stupid... your life just has a way of making things more complicated for you..." -- Kaelan 30 September. St Jerome's Day. Jerome (342-420) is generally credited with having translated the Bible into the Vulgate (Latin); however a large part of the work was done by Paula and her daughter Eustochium after they all had settled in Bethlehem in 386. They worked on the translation and, when Jerome submitted his translations to them for correction and amendment, polished up his work as well. The work was finished about 404. Although Jerome dedicated a great number of his translations to the two women, later scholars erased their names and substituted the words "learned brothers." Friday, September 27, 2002
Thursday, September 26, 2002
how am I supposed to feel when your last love letter left out the word love? your apology lacked the necessary energy now in effigy, burn burn burn Wednesday, September 25, 2002
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
"Is it worth it can you even hear me Standing with your spotlight on me Not enough to feed the hungry I'm tired and I felt it for awhile now In this sea of lonely The taste of ink is getting old It's four o' clock in the fucking morning Each day gets more and more like the last day Still I can see it coming While I'm standing in the river drowning This could be my chance to break out This could be my chance to say goodbye At last it's finally over Couldn't take this town much longer Being half dead wasn't what I planned to be Now I'm ready to be free So here I am it's in my hands And I'll savor every moment of this So here I am alive at last And I'll savor every moment of this And won't you think I'm pretty When I'm standing top the bright lit city And I'll take your hand and pick you up And keep you there to so you can see As long as you're alive and care I promise I will take you there And we'll drink and dance the night away As long as you're alive Here I am I promise I will take you there" -- The Taste Of Ink, by The Used Monday, September 23, 2002
"It is criminal to teach a man not to defend himself when he is the constant victim of brutal attacks" -- Malcolm X trite and you laugh at me like I won't kill you if you don't turn it around respite the interval is dangerous keep up the silence and you won't make it out alive Thursday, September 19, 2002
no matter how many people say "we'll always be friends" there's only one who still calls me just to talk... Wednesday, September 18, 2002
"Cuz that movie that's called "Life Sucks" stars everyone and you're a bit part, girl" -- Of Course We Will, by Ultimate Fakebook "I feel a dream in me expire and there's no one left to blame it on i hear you label me a liar cause i cant seem to get this through you say it's over i can sigh again why try to stay sober when i'm dying?" -- Fine Again, by Seether Tuesday, September 17, 2002
17 September. Feast Day of St Hildegard, one of the greatest scholars of the twelfth century. St Columba, who shares the day, is a spurious canonisation of Aphrodite. *grins* and the day that nobody truly appreciates... In 1859 the Englishman Joshua Norton announced himself Emperor of the United States, and a proclamation was published by the San Francisco Bulletin. He attended different religious services on a rotational basis so as not to offend anyone, ordered cessation of the Civil War hostilities, and paraded the city inspecting his subjects, who paid rent for his lodging house. Monday, September 16, 2002
Ostracods are very sexy animals. They have the second longest sperm in the animal kingdom. A one-millimetre ostracod can produce a single sperm that is 10mm long. It clearly has to have special equipment to deal with this sperm and it doesn't have one penis, it has two. Clearly all their apparatus is geared to sex. A male ostracod one millimetre long has a penis one third the size in volume of its entire body and it has two of them. So it gives a lot of attention to sex. Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves "who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?" Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of the Universe. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do... we were born to make manifest the Universe that is within us. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. Have you been holding back? When you really think about it, aren't there a million ways you can make today a more amazing day than yesterday, for yourself and others? I don't mean to come on all preachy, but seriously -- we create this world, not the bastards who think they're in charge, and therefore we need to make it amazing. why are you bored? why are you jaded? Have you ever made love and it felt so good it seemed dangerous? Being in love means really wanting to live in a different world; a more exciting world; a more beautiful world; a more joyous, carefree world; A world where everything matters and nothing is ever, ever dull. Why should I have to suffer at the hands of the drug war supporters? That makes my life collateral damage in their stupid crusade. Sunday, September 15, 2002
Saturday, September 14, 2002
"I'm tired of feelin sick and useless then speakin every other way gluin my eyes together girl might be the right escape" -- Country Yard, by The Vines Friday, September 13, 2002
nobody is safe... not with me, not from me, not around me... the death she feels will come suddenly, but not without warning... Sitting here
Alone again
I
Why not accuse you
When every
On
No
No
No
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
Wilde, like a stallion, loved a boy and counted the rosary of prison years repenting every werewolf kiss middle-aged need had bestowed upon youth in a city of lonliness, Edgar Allen Poe starved his soul till his skin bleached white William Hierens wrote in lipstick on a wall the secret language of our century and a little girl's body chopped in four he left behind for tabloids and the priests the perverse poet in the London fog Jack wrote in blood six odes to love the infant Hitler was deprived of love andm through processes that a Jew named Freud has taught us all to understand six million people later died Ravechal, who threw bombs in restaurants said, "There are no innocent bourgeoisie." and not until the blade of time can shave selfishness from the poor self's need will the need for love be a loving thing and the naked flesh not a naked cage Tuesday, September 10, 2002
I am in a state of unimpression and I am underwhelmed love lost, lost love amazing what graces and adorns my holy wall they hate me because my IQ is at least a genius level above the norm, so I'll show them my binary 4 maybe 75 points between me and your best contender you ostriches call me a pretender Monday, September 09, 2002
can you feel your words heating through me like a runaway arsonist's deepest fantasy? can you feel your words stabbing trough me like Jack the Ripper's left handed slashes? can you feel your words eat their way inside out like a maggot's banquet am I the main course? can you feel your words? Sunday, September 08, 2002
you'll always be inside... you're the enemy, but you're nobody (who always has someone) and you'll forget me even though I was your first experience decadence erasure closure Friday, September 06, 2002
"Munificent, artless and ascetic Playing like a scared Enthusiastic pawn" -- After All These Years, by Silverchair "I fondle keys to my heart when everyone's heart Seems so calm And you found the lock To my dorm and opened the door to my trust Fund�. my vestry The light in my darkest hour is fear Denies me of anything good sooo��. Don't lose your heart you'll need it You'll have to take another pill and tell another lie And lie amongst your lies like tuna in the brine. Take everything that you're not and don't be so Scared to tamper (temper) with (temper) "tampered with" evidence (tamper) Coz you'll come along for the sun if you come at all To lose your heart you'll have to take, take and take. Painting a lie seeing the colours but you seem Closer to everything Closer now than we ever have been We're closer now than we ever should (we) be Closer now than we've ever been before Closer to everything Busking for change and changing everything Feeble fables aren't changing many things It's my time to shine like a tuna in the brine For my pregnant paws aren't changing anything To all of the animals who keep sipping the sweat From my back, You're making me ill And I can't get enough So take another pill and tell another lie And lie amongst your lies like tuna in the brine." -- Tuna in the Brine, by Silverchair Thursday, September 05, 2002
"Discussing exo-psychology with a yokel is like discussing sexual experiences with a pre-adolescent. SHe just can't understand the new reality because Hir neural circuits have not been turned-on. And SHe may turn you in for philosophic child-molesting. Sooner or later the larval is going to realize that, after the exciting flight conversation, SHe is going to remain grounded. At this point the yokel can become passionately moralistic, attacking the post-terrestrial for being elitist, callous to human suffering, anti-human, escapist, or even diabolical." *shakes his head* why do I think so highly of these fucking stupid beings? I forget sometimes... (and here I was being nice because I thought you could love me) nothing left to hold back I've fucking cracked you're in danger now and you thought falling was painful "there is not a single part of you that i could ever love again. you're ridiculous." -- Shannon, about 30 seconds ago I chalked it up to bad aim, but you never miss. even with my eyes closed, your perfect piercing glare always penetrates me and I'm entranced like the first time a moth sees a campfire. I chalked it up to my psychoses, but I'm stark raving sane (well maybe not). sanity is a compromise you thought I caved in but I'm the one who's moving on and you're still wrapped up in your "happenstance" circumstance love is all around you and you keep your back turned erasing (through lies) the only real things you've ever known wrapped up in delusion wrapped up in illusion closing off to the truth Lose me again Open your heart and Venture a guess, but Emotion like this won't be found again... You cry (and try to numb) yourself Out of what you deserve... Underneath it all, you're dead anyway "So this is odd, the painful realization that has all gone wrong. And nobody cares at all, and nobody cares at all. So you buried all your lover's clothes and burned the letters lover wrote, but it doesn't make it any better. Does it make it any better? And the plaster dented from your fist in the hall where you had your first kiss reminds you that the memories will fade. So this is strange, our sidestepping has come to be a brilliant dance where nobody leads at all, where nobody leads at all. And the picture frames are facing down and the ringing from this empty sound is deafening and keeping you from sleep. And breathing is a foreign task and thinking's just too much to ask and you're measuring your minutes by a clock that's blinking eights. This is incredible. Starving, insatiable, yes, this is love for the first time. Well you'd like to think that you were invincible. Yeah, well weren't we all once before we felt loss for the first time? Well this is the last time. This is the last time. This is the last time." -- The Brilliant Dance, by Dashboard Confessional ----- is it ever the last time? "It's just like you to contest you wear it like a label on your breast don't you see what this takes of me? A certain callousness complies in your charm and in your pride a hopeful look draped in despise I want to give you whatever you need What is it you need? Is it what I need? I want to give you whatever you need What is it you need? Is it within me? It's hard to explain how I am getting by on so little from you It's hard to believe that I would let myself get so wrapped into you There's got to be something that would be worthwhile for me to give to you We need a connection but you seem to push me far away from you The harder I push the further I fall Well you don't mind me being headstrong But you don't want to sing along Maybe it's trite but I can always, always,always,always,always be wrong It's just like you to contest you wear it like a label on your breast don't you see what this takes of me? A certain callousness complies in your charm and in your pride a hopeful look draped in despise I want to give you whatever you need What is it you need? Is it what I need? I want to give you whatever you need What is it you need? Is it within me? It's hard to explain how I am getting by on so little from you It's hard to believe that I would let myself get so wrapped into you There's got to be something that would be worthwhile for me to give to you We need a connection but you seem to push me far away from you,from you,from you,from you The harder I push the further I fall Well you don't mind me being headstrong But you don't want to sing along Maybe it's trite but I can always, always,always,always,always be wrong, be wrong Try not to be Try not to be Try not to be Try not to be wrong Try not to be wrong" -- Ender Will Save Us, by Dashboard Confessional Tuesday, September 03, 2002
Sunday, September 01, 2002
odd how you always fit into my plan and my planh and you never wanted a part or parcel and you, whom my very presence sickens, I see you fading from view out of earshot and I always get an earful is this another of her thievous games? her grievous games? sweet bitch, you eat me you secret thief you secret chief you'd never kill me because you sap me dry again and again and again in your perpetually perspicuous pretense and you think you know of love. your rotten regalia reeks of dying and we are not verisimilar I think myself guiltless for loving you while you force-feed me strychnine and sadness as idle refreshment I acted as a tyrant, at your first infidelity... I wanted you to hate me. I wanted you to regard me as loathsome to help me to resist you All that agony -- to no purpose! Yes, you hated me more (and more and more) but my love never lessened and your sufferings made your beauty more painful and you would see the same if you could force yourself to look at me I would not say this, but you crush it out of me your corrupt heart, content to expiate that which consumes us and I sicken for you. and now you see me as they see me and your fears are realized (unbeknownst to you) you see the laughing ravisher of a dozen dozen girls, ready to cuckold any who would fall bewitched at my feet... I understand your distaste for me. it is logical. Inevitable. You have seen me relentless to hurt you. But you never looked any deeper. Yes, I did all that I could to provoke you into a fury of revulsion for me. I even made a rule that your name should never be pronounced in my presence. but if the measured penalty for all this were truly to match the motive, if you matched only my hatred with that of your own then I have earned no enmity from you grasping to life seizures or resentment and suspicion collapse me grant my words perhaps a little more than their face value. you know that this is a language alien to me my love speaks crudely, but do not reject it. without you, I never could have known it. and when passion boils, reason evaporates and what is left becomes ossified (like your hatred) you never fooled me with your games and you never will I will not be enchanted I will not be captivated (or am I?) Could I be the exception? she was, as always and in a word, uberchic she always fit that word to its nonexistent "t" she was the perfect dichotomy (weren't we all?) no, just her... well, me too. she never understood it, and I probably didn't either, that our mutual attraction was that looking at eachother was like looking in the mirror or a broken mirror with shards reflecting bits and pieces of ourselves that we loved to hate to love. was it ever real? was it out of love? is it still? everybody knows this is nowhere and everyone but us sees that it could only ever be love. |
faeries have died because YOU haven't been clapping hard enough.