PurpleSneaker's Blog http://www.absolutepunk.net/blogs.php?u=114482 PurpleSneaker's latest blog entries. en AbsolutePunk.net Blogs http://images.absolutepunk.net/images/misc/rss.jpg PurpleSneaker's Blog http://www.absolutepunk.net/blogs.php?u=114482 Can totally be ignored. its not really a poem, either. just a note in stupid rhy http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=68652 Sat, 27 Sep 2008 15:34:21 GMT Mostly note to self as i was thinking bout something... Riding the stars in search for pleasure, grasping our bondage with silly smiles, dancing under speckled green skies, living for ever, mere husks of humans '´souls in delirium? Floating like bacterium like enlightened shining Brahmans, looking as the poor old world dies, no more prayer heard in church aisles, as we fight for endless leisure.
Riding the stars in search for pleasure,
grasping our bondage with silly smiles,
dancing under speckled green skies,
living for ever, mere husks of humans
'´souls in delirium?
Floating like bacterium
like enlightened shining Brahmans,
looking as the poor old world dies,
no more prayer heard in church aisles,
as we fight for endless leisure. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=68652 Stumble upon. http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=47991 Tue, 05 Aug 2008 22:00:50 GMT Happy birthday. PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=47991 http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=32531 Tue, 17 Jun 2008 09:20:58 GMT Felt like replacing my middle-of-the-night-incoherent entry. What to put in it... [CENTER][FONT="Century Gothic"]MORS AT SUAE COHORTIS LUDUS: "ANATHEMA, ANATHEMA TIBI!" ARCANI VIS ET NATURA: "ANATHEMA, ANATHEMA TIBI!" THEY WHO KNOW, DO NOT SPEAK! THEY WHO TALK, DO NOT KNOW! "MALEDICTUS! MALEDICTUS!" WE ARE JUST SKETCHES OF MEN CAUGHT IN A WICKED VORTEX WHERE TERTIUM NON DATUR BETWEEN BEING GOD OR BEING DAMNED.[/FONT] [/CENTER]
MORS AT SUAE COHORTIS LUDUS:
"ANATHEMA, ANATHEMA TIBI!"
ARCANI VIS ET NATURA:
"ANATHEMA, ANATHEMA TIBI!"

THEY WHO KNOW, DO NOT SPEAK!
THEY WHO TALK, DO NOT KNOW!
"MALEDICTUS! MALEDICTUS!"

WE ARE JUST SKETCHES OF MEN
CAUGHT IN A WICKED VORTEX
WHERE TERTIUM NON DATUR
BETWEEN BEING GOD
OR BEING DAMNED.
]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=32531 98? 16? -12? 0.040816327? http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=29621 Mon, 09 Jun 2008 01:37:30 GMT "Meanings" fade from existence. "Visions," "hopes," "dreams," all disappear. "Death" is no more, barely even "life." "Loss" and "gain" are nothing. "Enjoyment" as it was known is disfigured and warped, as it flows through every "breath" and beam of "light" and wave of "sound." "Form" is only relative. "Movement" is static. "Silence" is golden. "Asleep" and "awake" are neigh yet each other's likeness. "Memory" loses every point. "Past," "present," and "future" are but "words." "Language" cannot express what exists. "Pain" is nothing but a "feeling." Total eradication of everything we "know." There are no more "secrets." No more "truth." Yet everything is a secret and revealed as a truth. We know and feel it. We experience the absence of pain. We try to put our gift of language to use, give words to this. We wonder if the future shall be like the present, and if the past has always been though we have no memory of it. We feel like we have awoken, though we were never asleep. We hear no silence. We sense every movement of our form and others. We hear the sounds of life, and see it, and breath in existence. And we enjoy it. We have gained what we never lost. We experience life, as if we knew death. It becomes a dreamlike place. We are filled with hope, and great visions. We see the meaning. ~~~~~ I have seen the first three episodes of Suzumiya Haruhi. I did airing order. I love it. It is godlike. I shall simply have to read the novels when I've seen the first season. They're on the net, but haven't been printed on paper in any language but Japanese yet. I realised that any hopes of sleeping before 3AM where inexistent. I'll wake up early today though, and go to sleep at a sickly early time later today. I prefer weekdays over weekends. I am alone at home, and it is so much more enjoyable than when this place is filled with these people whom I must live with. I despise humans. I do. Most of them, until I get to know them. I despise ordinary. I guess that Suzumiya Haruhi is the ultimate franchise for me, with that starting point. I don't know. I just can't wait to have a cup of tea, alone. Or with someone I like. But I'm going for the prior. Pity me, if you will. I will enjoy it. I enjoy the thought of it. I despise the words I put to writing. It's either that I can't express my self, or that there is nothing more to express. I don't like either prospect. I like having that control over my self. Not consciously, maybe, but I want it to be there. But of course I don't understand my self. I haven't lived long enough yet. Fickle youth. barely even "life." "Loss" and "gain" are nothing. "Enjoyment" as it was known is disfigured and
warped, as it flows through every "breath" and beam of "light" and wave of "sound."
"Form" is only relative. "Movement" is static. "Silence" is golden. "Asleep" and "awake" are neigh yet
each other's likeness. "Memory" loses every point. "Past," "present," and "future" are but "words."
"Language" cannot express what exists. "Pain" is nothing but a "feeling."
Total eradication of everything we "know." There are no more "secrets." No more "truth."

Yet everything is a secret and revealed as a truth. We know and feel it. We experience the absence of
pain. We try to put our gift of language to use, give words to this. We wonder if the future shall be like
the present, and if the past has always been though we have no memory of it.
We feel like we have awoken, though we were never asleep. We hear no silence. We sense every
movement of our form and others. We hear the sounds of life, and see it, and breath in existence. And
we enjoy it. We have gained what we never lost. We experience life, as if we knew death.
It becomes a dreamlike place. We are filled with hope, and great visions. We see the meaning.


~~~~~


I have seen the first three episodes of Suzumiya Haruhi. I did airing order. I love it. It is godlike. I
shall simply have to read the novels when I've seen the first season. They're on the net, but haven't
been printed on paper in any language but Japanese yet.

I realised that any hopes of sleeping before 3AM where inexistent. I'll wake up early today though,
and go to sleep at a sickly early time later today. I prefer weekdays over weekends. I am alone at
home, and it is so much more enjoyable than when this place is filled with these people whom I must
live with. I despise humans. I do. Most of them, until I get to know them. I despise ordinary.

I guess that Suzumiya Haruhi is the ultimate franchise for me, with that starting point. I don't know. I
just can't wait to have a cup of tea, alone. Or with someone I like. But I'm going for the prior. Pity me,
if you will. I will enjoy it. I enjoy the thought of it. I despise the words I put to writing.

It's either that I can't express my self, or that there is nothing more to express. I don't like either
prospect. I like having that control over my self. Not consciously, maybe, but I want it to be there.
But of course I don't understand my self. I haven't lived long enough yet. Fickle youth. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=29621 So I was thinking. http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27949 Wed, 28 May 2008 21:01:04 GMT All the bad things you wish on your siblings in envy when you're young, what if those wishes are fulfilled when you grow up? And they build up, and only one of you gets hit, for Fortuna saw that you were treated wrong, and those wrongs shall be made right in one action. It's the stuff of suicides and late-night shows. ~~~ And we start using words like "whereas" and "thus," and we feel like we are hated and loved, always wronged and always treated so unjust. And we blame disease, and we go to lengths, and we have a sip, and we fall apart. We take our leave of the Past, and follow instead the Future. We don't look over our shoulders, for there are the people we used to be, and we dare not face them. "Hey," a scream is sounded from the lips that are no longer ours, "your face is dirty, but I don't know your name." And old plans that work out by random chance, and waking up at two AM though your clock says its ten, and we are disappointed with the people we never believed in, and let them convince us again that that which we never had we can have once again, and thus it is fulfilled. And the songs we never liked, that burn through our souls because we know we should love them now; and the first chapter and the last, or is the latest the first and the old one's a memory? You should fix your amnesia cause you're incoherent. Either that, or we're only liars. And it's all about who's the best. ~~~ The meaninglessness of hatred. It takes willpower. Love is easy. The art of construction lies within the created. The art of destruction lies within the act itself. Destruction must surely be superior, even if the result might not be. The art of deconstruction must lie both within the result and within the act. So deconstruction must surely be superior, and the result will be as well. I'm probably wrong about that one though.
~~~

And we start using words like "whereas" and "thus," and we feel like we are hated and loved, always wronged and always treated so unjust. And we blame disease, and we go to lengths, and we have a sip, and we fall apart.
We take our leave of the Past, and follow instead the Future. We don't look over our shoulders, for there are the people we used to be, and we dare not face them. "Hey," a scream is sounded from the lips that are no longer ours, "your face is dirty, but I don't know your name."
And old plans that work out by random chance, and waking up at two AM though your clock says its ten, and we are disappointed with the people we never believed in, and let them convince us again that that which we never had we can have once again, and thus it is fulfilled.

And the songs we never liked, that burn through our souls because we know we should love them now; and the first chapter and the last, or is the latest the first and the old one's a memory? You should fix your amnesia cause you're incoherent.

Either that, or we're only liars. And it's all about who's the best.

~~~

The meaninglessness of hatred. It takes willpower. Love is easy.
The art of construction lies within the created. The art of destruction lies within the act itself.
Destruction must surely be superior, even if the result might not be.
The art of deconstruction must lie both within the result and within the act.
So deconstruction must surely be superior, and the result will be as well.

I'm probably wrong about that one though. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27949 Kadadadada da da http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27939 Wed, 28 May 2008 15:21:11 GMT So I had another Tuesday yesterday. It was nice at first, though a bit boring. I browsed through every forum I know of, found a bunch of Schoolyard Heroes demos on their forum (the thread was like a year old as well, I might suck a bit). But then I went to my extra gym thing. I guess I could sum it up like this: my teacher thinks I have asthma. Doesn't sound too unlikely. I didn't even make a kilometre. I just had to stop. I couldn't breath, and I mean couldn't breath. I sat down for 20 minutes, managed to get some water, sat there for 20 minutes more, stopped coughing and hissing every second, went home. Stopped halfway and sat down in the grass under a tree, for maybe 20 minutes again. And got home. Where my parents were screaming angry. I was still fatigued. Couldn't sleep till 3AM. Could have been better. Today I slept all day. Got up after a while I admit, sat down and played games for some hours. Take away. Now here I am. Tomorrow I actually have a class again. Swedish. Have to rewrite my paper I think, it's really weird. Supposed to be an "odyssey." Maximum of two pages. I'm thinking I'll write about a person buying ice cream. Friday is off again. If I get to sleep in time I can get up and spend the day outside. Or even better on my balcony with tea. Our balcony..I love it. Plants everywhere, wood on the floor, that's about it. It's got electricity but no net. Boring crap entry. But this is what they should actually be like, not... crammed full of weird stuff. Don't worry. I wrote a full weird entry as well. I'll post it later.
I didn't even make a kilometre. I just had to stop. I couldn't breath, and I mean couldn't breath. I sat down for 20 minutes, managed to get some water, sat there for 20 minutes more, stopped coughing and hissing every second, went home. Stopped halfway and sat down in the grass under a tree, for maybe 20 minutes again. And got home. Where my parents were screaming angry. I was still fatigued. Couldn't sleep till 3AM. Could have been better.

Today I slept all day. Got up after a while I admit, sat down and played games for some hours. Take away. Now here I am.

Tomorrow I actually have a class again. Swedish. Have to rewrite my paper I think, it's really weird. Supposed to be an "odyssey." Maximum of two pages. I'm thinking I'll write about a person buying ice cream.

Friday is off again. If I get to sleep in time I can get up and spend the day outside. Or even better on my balcony with tea. Our balcony..I love it. Plants everywhere, wood on the floor, that's about it. It's got electricity but no net.

Boring crap entry. But this is what they should actually be like, not... crammed full of weird stuff.

Don't worry. I wrote a full weird entry as well. I'll post it later. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27939 Maths..... tomorrow. Poetical freedom mind you. http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27837 Sun, 25 May 2008 22:25:39 GMT The beauty as I watch the rooftops and the birds flying by, the sky streaked with pink and grey, the hideous walls that are quite charming in the evening. In a window sits a woman or a girl conversing on the phone, throwing fleeting glances through the glass on passers by. One of them is taking out the garbage, he must be thirty though he wishes to look less than so. Were it not for the man smoking his cigarette outside the staff's entrance of the little restaurant named Manfred's, or the pair of legs that enter a hard to see doorway on the far side of the yard, this would indeed have been a magical glimpse to catch. But as they all watch the scenery they add to it their own imperfection, in body; soul; or other nature. Tea in hand, I enjoy it yet despair. Seagulls remind me that the town I live in is quite romantic after all. I tend to forget. One gets so used to the smell of sea-water in the air that after a while one perceives only the metropolis, and the humans that dwell in it. For me the latter act best as victims, chased down the streets and alley ways of the prior, by some vicious monster which is humanoid only in looks, and vaguely even then. I have a sip at my tea. Her beauty near unmatched I grant her that; though her soul is falling freely, hoping to be caught, but too fastidious to grab any of the hands reaching out for her—and how relieved are we not, for those hands are human hands: decorated not with claws but with nails, not with fur but with skin, they seek out her heart, not to rip it out but to smother with disgusting care. Before I met her, I would never let my body take a step which it had not been ordered to take by my mind. It was under strict orders to follow a code of conduct at all times. Now remarks are made about my manners and my ways, and I know not how to meet them for I never have before. Alas I find my way even when led astray, and when that guide of mine disappears for but a second, will-o'-the-wisp is there to set me straight. I made a wish for her to enjoy everything that [I]she[/I] could wish for. Little did I know, that her wishes at the time were so immature; an opposite to her person as thought I then had been revealed to me. What pathetic dread she held and holds. Like me she fears humans more than beasts. Like me, she puts herself in the middle of the world. She breaks, gives in, and now she's gone. Revive her please my dear, you are the only one I dare believe who can. Oh what a wish can do. O! Fortuna, you horrid fiend to feast on hopes of man. I close the door. My mind is clouded with thoughts now and the beauty escapes me. Maybe tomorrow I can have some bliss? For I never think further than tomorrow, or I should surely go mad. Will my brother perhaps be home? will, thus, my day be hell on earth? I should hope not. Tomorrow should be blessed with solitude if faith treats me right. With the subtlety of others near me I could point out that I have no planned visitors coming; but instead, I shall think ahead unlike them, and invite myself for tea. I, also, can not stand the company of others in my inner sanctum, though seek invite them all the time. Another week, a month, how long? I shall pay gladly the cost again, for at far are riches best beheld. This game I enjoy more than the winnings that can be held, but seldom are. And pain is more than neigh and neigh is more than being ignored. But don't flatter yourselves. Today I couldn't care less. Tea in hand, I enjoy it yet despair. Seagulls remind me that the town I live in is quite romantic after all. I tend to forget. One gets so used to the smell of sea-water in the air that after a while one perceives only the metropolis, and the humans that dwell in it. For me the latter act best as victims, chased down the streets and alley ways of the prior, by some vicious monster which is humanoid only in looks, and vaguely even then.
I have a sip at my tea. Her beauty near unmatched I grant her that; though her soul is falling freely, hoping to be caught, but too fastidious to grab any of the hands reaching out for her—and how relieved are we not, for those hands are human hands: decorated not with claws but with nails, not with fur but with skin, they seek out her heart, not to rip it out but to smother with disgusting care.
Before I met her, I would never let my body take a step which it had not been ordered to take by my mind. It was under strict orders to follow a code of conduct at all times. Now remarks are made about my manners and my ways, and I know not how to meet them for I never have before. Alas I find my way even when led astray, and when that guide of mine disappears for but a second, will-o'-the-wisp is there to set me straight.
I made a wish for her to enjoy everything that she could wish for. Little did I know, that her wishes at the time were so immature; an opposite to her person as thought I then had been revealed to me. What pathetic dread she held and holds. Like me she fears humans more than beasts. Like me, she puts herself in the middle of the world. She breaks, gives in, and now she's gone. Revive her please my dear, you are the only one I dare believe who can. Oh what a wish can do. O! Fortuna, you horrid fiend to feast on hopes of man.
I close the door. My mind is clouded with thoughts now and the beauty escapes me. Maybe tomorrow I can have some bliss? For I never think further than tomorrow, or I should surely go mad. Will my brother perhaps be home? will, thus, my day be hell on earth? I should hope not. Tomorrow should be blessed with solitude if faith treats me right. With the subtlety of others near me I could point out that I have no planned visitors coming; but instead, I shall think ahead unlike them, and invite myself for tea. I, also, can not stand the company of others in my inner sanctum, though seek invite them all the time.


Another week, a month, how long? I shall pay gladly the cost again, for at far are riches best beheld. This game I enjoy more than the winnings that can be held, but seldom are.
And pain is more than neigh and neigh is more than being ignored.
But don't flatter yourselves. Today I couldn't care less. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27837 Still ill. You bastard. So no real entry until I'm well. http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27794 Fri, 23 May 2008 22:49:59 GMT Screw that imaginary point later on. It came true? I'd say it did. Do I regret it? I regret nothing. If I could go back in time? I'd bring a gun. It's so weird that it actually makes me happy. Maybe I'm one of those very few, actually unselfish human beings on earth. I think I'm mad. It came true? I'd say it did. Do I regret it? I regret nothing. If I could go back in time? I'd bring a gun.
It's so weird that it actually makes me happy.
Maybe I'm one of those very few, actually unselfish human beings on earth.
I think I'm mad. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27794 46.21688005 (or: I smell of sweat like never before.) http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27651 Tue, 20 May 2008 08:22:25 GMT To be an ambulance driver. Or something like that. A doctor. Helping all these people, and being the greatest thing in the world for them. And then they get better and go back to their lives. For a while. Until they hurt themselves again. You see them for a moment. One couldn't get emotionally attached to them. Or a psychologist. But one would, wouldn't one. I could never be that. Just jabbering on about nonsensical things and helping them feel better so they can go have fun again. Never. Could I do that. So a teacher then? that's so much better? All these kids running around and you see them and you want to take care of them cause you see they need it. And. You just can't. I'd need to teach older kids. But really... I. Don't like the sound of it. I'd enjoy it, sure. Certainly. But I'm not sure I want to do that. Because. What is teaching. Making people into the people you see everyday. Could say that it's important. Could say that hey you're ruining the world. How do you enact specialness in a world like this, with no knights, dragons, duels, so on? In a world with six billion inhabitants. First thought to cross my mind is that I don't want to help them, as they don't deserve it. But then.. it fades.. into all these wonderful people. What a doom, aye. To be born a human. Instinctively loving human beings. And on their own, they [I]are[/I] wonderful. But they'd all die on their own. And together they are. The greatest horror to befall... man? Maybe I should just become a professor of mathematics at Christ Church. Start taking photos. Making visits. Go on a little boat trip. Enact my fantasy. Write a book about a little girl and a white rabbit. A future? Well. He was a brilliant mathematician yet he is remembered only for those two books. I don't really care about being remembered by the entire world... What I do care about is doing something to it. Thing is, I don't know what... And chances are, when i find out, I'll be far too old and wise to tell anyone.
So a teacher then? that's so much better? All these kids running around and you see them and you want to take care of them cause you see they need it. And. You just can't. I'd need to teach older kids. But really... I. Don't like the sound of it. I'd enjoy it, sure. Certainly. But I'm not sure I want to do that. Because. What is teaching. Making people into the people you see everyday. Could say that it's important. Could say that hey you're ruining the world.

How do you enact specialness in a world like this, with no knights, dragons, duels, so on? In a world with six billion inhabitants. First thought to cross my mind is that I don't want to help them, as they don't deserve it. But then.. it fades.. into all these wonderful people. What a doom, aye. To be born a human. Instinctively loving human beings. And on their own, they are wonderful. But they'd all die on their own. And together they are. The greatest horror to befall... man?


Maybe I should just become a professor of mathematics at Christ Church. Start taking photos. Making visits. Go on a little boat trip. Enact my fantasy. Write a book about a little girl and a white rabbit. A future? Well. He was a brilliant mathematician yet he is remembered only for those two books. I don't really care about being remembered by the entire world... What I do care about is doing something to it. Thing is, I don't know what... And chances are, when i find out, I'll be far too old and wise to tell anyone. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27651 46.1302504 http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27636 Mon, 19 May 2008 21:38:19 GMT [[I]This is constant writing until my brother goes to sleep, so expect nothing amazing, just rambling that won't be proof-read[/I].] Well, today I feel a lot more mellow than yesterday. So this is going to be a more coherent I'm-watching-a-film-whilst-typing-this-kind-of-entry. What film you say? A Tale Of Two Sisters, Korean horror movie from -03. I saw that Jena Malone had just been in a horror film. So I'm getting it. [I]The Ruins[/I], it is called. Honestly, critics seem not to really love it. But then, this one guy said it was great cause it was built around tension instead of gore. And honestly. How scary is gore. I have gore for breakfast. I ate noodles watching Ichi the Killer. So I'm kinda. Stoked, is that how you put it. Hah. But I am I suppose. I ran home most of the way today. Walked/ran through the forest. I don't fancy running on paths and stuff, feels so. Unnecessary. It's not like I'm in a rush. But the forest, it's nice. Hearing your feet hit the soft ground. It basically demands boots though. Oh, why I'm not watching my film? Brother still up. And watching a film alone... well it should be done with no one around or at least awake, no? In my opinion any way. To enjoy it fully. I love enjoying things fully. Why have a sandwich when you can lie down in bed turn on good music eat a sandwich have some tea [I]and[/I] some saft and read something at the same time. Making sure one won't have to visit the loo in a while, and that no one will disturb you, that there are no disturbing blinking lights, that everything is just right. It makes for problems however. If every moment is stowed with maximum enjoyment, you get a lot of empty free time. So you have to find more enjoying things to do. And they wont really be that enjoying any more, since you've had better. I have a really good memory for feelings and smells, the latter a catalyst for the first as well. In the same way, things like doing homework become more boring. Or, not necessarily boring, as I tend to enjoy it when I get started. But it's a lot harder to start doing something which your bastard of a mind connects with boredom. Going to write until my brother puts his light out. He just lay down in bed so won't be thaat long. He's just reading old comics. Like, ages old. Lil kids' comics. He likes them though, so yeah. I like comics. Not that kind though. I mean I actually read my brothers comics for enjoyment, Donald Duck. But really I tend to skip a lot cause they tend to suck. I read a... 8 issues a year comic and a 4 issues a year comic. That I actually pay for. Other than that I couldn't care more for comics. Web-comics is another thing. I read... Two regularly. And occasionally update myself on three more. And then, I read Jessica Monster's comics. Though she's an artiste see so they don't exactly come three times a week before midnight. Then, they're awesome as well. Suppose though, that caring about comics at all is kinda geeky. Then, I am geeky, so hah on you. I have read all the D&D-rule books and I don't even play it. I know the basic rules for a bunch more games. I occasionally play WC3 and even less frequently I play shoot-em-ups. I'll probably play WAR when it's released, though I'll have to get wind ows for the mac first. So, I remember when I used to listen to some songs by [I]The Killers[/I] and just feel them surge through my body like still some songs manage to do. And now I hear them and it's just. Oh this stuff again. Now that goes for a lot of bands. I used to listen to loads of music that I no longer pay any heed to except for rare sentimental reasons. My chem. FOB. (no.. I actually listen to some of their songs.. rarely..) AFI. (well. a couple of songs then. to be heard during snowfall.) Garbage. (yeah see below) Kill Hannah (I suppose, haven't listened to them for. Months.) Green day. GC. Those are the ones that come to me of my mind (yeah I looked through iTunes briefly). Then. I saw Sex Pistols. And I was hit by the realisation that shit, I used to listen to that. And Rancid and NoFX and... Well a lot more. I used to be such a..part time punk.- That passed. Goth passed. Hippie passed. Man I've been a lot of stuff. Such a poseur, aye? well suppose I am. I'm okay with that. As long as I do what I feel like. Right now I walk around in brand clothes and leather shoes and soomewhat fixed hair. That just doesn't do for summer. Summer = t-shirts, if cold hoodies, rivet-like pants.. or goth-like at least. Or. Hippie like. Any kind of non-ordinary pants. That don't look like total shit in my eyes. Idk. Summer pants, to put it simply. I'm doing my hair white/bone/orange again. With more white and less orange hopefully. I want to shave off a part. I've wanted to for a good while really. And since that's the only part really, I'll go left. A bit of the stuff above my ear only. It might happen. It might happen. Well. My brother just put his light out. So I'm going to watch Koreans die now. Okay I got stuck reading about geometry. You'd be surprised to see how often this happens. Or maybe you wouldn't. My last wisdom teeth or whatever you call them in the angelic anglican language are growing and they are a blast to play with. Film to start after this song. [I]Lunchbox and Memories[/I] by [I]Jena Malone[/I]. And it's rolling. All right. All right. I'll just go to bed. Watch the rest tomorrow. I've slept far too badly lately. Sorry for posting such a stupid piece of writing. I think it's going to be deleted as I don't like unnecessary entries. Might edit it down to something though. We'll see. As for the film? Quality was horrible. But it was watchable, in fact everyone looked scary with that pixelation. It was scary as well, or, the last five minutes I saw before turning it off were. Might be that it's dark and quite though. Ima just sleep now. No last line. With incredible humnour or oh fuck ill just post it. This is constant writing until my brother goes to sleep, so expect nothing amazing, just rambling that won't be proof-read.]

Well, today I feel a lot more mellow than yesterday. So this is going to be a more coherent I'm-watching-a-film-whilst-typing-this-kind-of-entry. What film you say? A Tale Of Two Sisters, Korean horror movie from -03.

I saw that Jena Malone had just been in a horror film. So I'm getting it. The Ruins, it is called.
Honestly, critics seem not to really love it. But then, this one guy said it was great cause it was built around tension instead of gore. And honestly. How scary is gore. I have gore for breakfast. I ate noodles watching Ichi the Killer. So I'm kinda. Stoked, is that how you put it. Hah. But I am I suppose.

I ran home most of the way today. Walked/ran through the forest. I don't fancy running on paths and stuff, feels so. Unnecessary. It's not like I'm in a rush. But the forest, it's nice. Hearing your feet hit the soft ground. It basically demands boots though.

Oh, why I'm not watching my film? Brother still up. And watching a film alone... well it should be done with no one around or at least awake, no? In my opinion any way. To enjoy it fully.
I love enjoying things fully. Why have a sandwich when you can lie down in bed turn on good music eat a sandwich have some tea and some saft and read something at the same time. Making sure one won't have to visit the loo in a while, and that no one will disturb you, that there are no disturbing blinking lights, that everything is just right.
It makes for problems however. If every moment is stowed with maximum enjoyment, you get a lot of empty free time. So you have to find more enjoying things to do. And they wont really be that enjoying any more, since you've had better. I have a really good memory for feelings and smells, the latter a catalyst for the first as well.
In the same way, things like doing homework become more boring. Or, not necessarily boring, as I tend to enjoy it when I get started. But it's a lot harder to start doing something which your bastard of a mind connects with boredom.

Going to write until my brother puts his light out. He just lay down in bed so won't be thaat long.
He's just reading old comics. Like, ages old. Lil kids' comics. He likes them though, so yeah. I like comics. Not that kind though. I mean I actually read my brothers comics for enjoyment, Donald Duck. But really I tend to skip a lot cause they tend to suck.
I read a... 8 issues a year comic and a 4 issues a year comic. That I actually pay for. Other than that I couldn't care more for comics.
Web-comics is another thing. I read... Two regularly. And occasionally update myself on three more. And then, I read Jessica Monster's comics. Though she's an artiste see so they don't exactly come three times a week before midnight. Then, they're awesome as well.
Suppose though, that caring about comics at all is kinda geeky. Then, I am geeky, so hah on you. I have read all the D&D-rule books and I don't even play it. I know the basic rules for a bunch more games. I occasionally play WC3 and even less frequently I play shoot-em-ups. I'll probably play WAR when it's released, though I'll have to get wind ows for the mac first.

So, I remember when I used to listen to some songs by The Killers and just feel them surge through my body like still some songs manage to do. And now I hear them and it's just. Oh this stuff again. Now that goes for a lot of bands. I used to listen to loads of music that I no longer pay any heed to except for rare sentimental reasons.
My chem.
FOB. (no.. I actually listen to some of their songs.. rarely..)
AFI. (well. a couple of songs then. to be heard during snowfall.)
Garbage. (yeah see below)
Kill Hannah (I suppose, haven't listened to them for. Months.)
Green day.
GC.
Those are the ones that come to me of my mind (yeah I looked through iTunes briefly).
Then. I saw Sex Pistols. And I was hit by the realisation that shit, I used to listen to that. And Rancid and NoFX and... Well a lot more. I used to be such a..part time punk.-
That passed. Goth passed. Hippie passed. Man I've been a lot of stuff. Such a poseur, aye? well suppose I am. I'm okay with that. As long as I do what I feel like. Right now I walk around in brand clothes and leather shoes and soomewhat fixed hair.
That just doesn't do for summer. Summer = t-shirts, if cold hoodies, rivet-like pants.. or goth-like at least. Or. Hippie like. Any kind of non-ordinary pants. That don't look like total shit in my eyes. Idk. Summer pants, to put it simply.

I'm doing my hair white/bone/orange again. With more white and less orange hopefully. I want to shave off a part. I've wanted to for a good while really. And since that's the only part really, I'll go left. A bit of the stuff above my ear only. It might happen. It might happen.

Well. My brother just put his light out. So I'm going to watch Koreans die now.
Okay I got stuck reading about geometry. You'd be surprised to see how often this happens. Or maybe you wouldn't. My last wisdom teeth or whatever you call them in the angelic anglican language are growing and they are a blast to play with. Film to start after this song. Lunchbox and Memories by Jena Malone. And it's rolling.

All right. All right. I'll just go to bed. Watch the rest tomorrow. I've slept far too badly lately. Sorry for posting such a stupid piece of writing. I think it's going to be deleted as I don't like unnecessary entries. Might edit it down to something though. We'll see. As for the film? Quality was horrible. But it was watchable, in fact everyone looked scary with that pixelation. It was scary as well, or, the last five minutes I saw before turning it off were. Might be that it's dark and quite though. Ima just sleep now. No last line. With incredible humnour or


oh fuck ill just post it. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27636 46.04345775 (or: Screw you it's late I get to do this if I wanna) http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27592 Sun, 18 May 2008 23:43:15 GMT I'm gonna make this a live-report on my watching of Rob Zombie's Halloween. (No, I didn't watch it earlier, as my brother was going to a friend's. But 11PM is excellent for this.) First, I should mention that my head is filled up with creepy confusion. It is like, once again, my view on life has changed. This time, because of a little girl. And I don't even know what is different. Just that stuff doesn't feel the same any more. It seems, the more intense these "realisations" or whatever become, the harder it becomes to actually define them. Then, I'm working on gaining insanity before age 18. It's a goal well put. And one that shouldn't be too hard to reach. Terra Naomi was tonight's album of the day. I'm going to plug in my earphones now. Let the something something begin. Calculated the title. Now for the earphones (and associated iPod, I suppose). I have been everywhere! ...turns out the earphones were right next to me. I've got raspberry saft, yay me. Okay so it was sort of creepy. Scary. Idk. For a horror movie it was scary. But it was good. Wasn't much of a live-report this though. Nor a review, though I really didn't promise one. Nor will I make one, I hate reviews. People who rate movies are always pretentious fuckfaces. Mostly. I think. Then. I never do read reviews. Well. It's sleepy time. Been for a while. Long day tomorrow, yess. A couple of weeks ago, I talked to a girl in my class. She said she had no dreams. And that she was happy about it. Now this is a sane girl. In the isn't-a-complete-moron-kind-of-way. Or I wouldn't have had that conversation with her at all, after all. And, though my reasoning with her must have seemed delirious at best, a couple of days after that conversation, I started feeling that. Well. Wouldn't that be awesome. Just feeling like you are totally normal. Like there's nothing special about you. Just go through life. Life doesn't work that way, does it. Take one bite of the apple, and you're hooked. Should have cut that snake up good while I could. But it's too late now. And life has only just started. Then, of course, I stopped thinking like that. Oblivion is for fools. But I'll be damned if I don't get married and have children in the process. Shit. I still want two daughters. Or a daughter and a son. Though really, having a son can go piss itself. I want one little girl. With baggy pants. And evil eyes. Now that's my heritage. Oh, and.. death and decay. Naturally. If I'm making no sense that's okay. It's the new thing. No one is making no sense. Now. Sleepy time. Once again. And. No. No. This is sleepy time. I'll talk to you later. Maybe. (No, I didn't watch it earlier, as my brother was going to a friend's. But 11PM is excellent for this.)

First, I should mention that my head is filled up with creepy confusion. It is like, once again, my view on life has changed. This time, because of a little girl. And I don't even know what is different. Just that stuff doesn't feel the same any more. It seems, the more intense these "realisations" or whatever become, the harder it becomes to actually define them. Then, I'm working on gaining insanity before age 18. It's a goal well put. And one that shouldn't be too hard to reach.

Terra Naomi was tonight's album of the day.
I'm going to plug in my earphones now. Let the something something begin.
Calculated the title. Now for the earphones (and associated iPod, I suppose).

I have been everywhere! ...turns out the earphones were right next to me. I've got raspberry saft, yay me.

Okay so it was sort of creepy. Scary. Idk. For a horror movie it was scary. But it was good.
Wasn't much of a live-report this though. Nor a review, though I really didn't promise one. Nor will I make one, I hate reviews. People who rate movies are always pretentious fuckfaces. Mostly. I think.
Then. I never do read reviews.

Well. It's sleepy time. Been for a while. Long day tomorrow, yess.

A couple of weeks ago, I talked to a girl in my class. She said she had no dreams. And that she was happy about it. Now this is a sane girl. In the isn't-a-complete-moron-kind-of-way. Or I wouldn't have had that conversation with her at all, after all.
And, though my reasoning with her must have seemed delirious at best, a couple of days after that conversation, I started feeling that. Well. Wouldn't that be awesome. Just feeling like you are totally normal. Like there's nothing special about you. Just go through life.

Life doesn't work that way, does it. Take one bite of the apple, and you're hooked. Should have cut that snake up good while I could. But it's too late now. And life has only just started.

Then, of course, I stopped thinking like that. Oblivion is for fools. But I'll be damned if I don't get married and have children in the process. Shit. I still want two daughters. Or a daughter and a son. Though really, having a son can go piss itself. I want one little girl. With baggy pants. And evil eyes.
Now that's my heritage.

Oh, and.. death and decay. Naturally.

If I'm making no sense that's okay. It's the new thing. No one is making no sense.
Now. Sleepy time. Once again. And. No.
No.
This is sleepy time. I'll talk to you later. Maybe. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27592 45.86937977 http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27543 Sat, 17 May 2008 06:44:24 GMT Well I had to get up soddin early so no entry for you. Which is a bit horrible but you'll live. Sunday. Now that's the day for entry writing. Until then, my dears. Until then. [I]The thing about being alone, is that you're always the coolest person around[/I] Sunday. Now that's the day for entry writing. Until then, my dears. Until then.

The thing about being alone, is that you're always the coolest person around
]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27543 Smell is like God to me. Religious fervour is in the air. http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27409 Tue, 13 May 2008 21:08:15 GMT I could immediately smell it. The rank, foul odour was everywhere. I had come to expect it by now, though. It covers the world like a thick sheet. It's like it's always been there, pestering, disgusting, everywhere. It hasn't always been like this, but I remember nothing else. My nose forced another breath of the rancid fumes into my struggling lungs and it bit and teared at my insides. It was much like drowning in filth. I was raised next to one of the furnaces who's chimneys bellowed the noxious smoke into the world. Were it not for my loving parents, I would have succumbed to the horror in which others live; blissfully oblivious. And I inhale. The smell of the trees filled me with bliss. Never had a cold spring evening felt so glorious, since the last time I left my house after 9PM. Natures scent was a violent embrace, strangling me with its spiked tentacles. It was as if I had fallen in love with the moment itself, but hurt infinitely inside me, as I knew moments always come to an end. It was sheer pleasure and perfection; for some few fleeting scenic seconds, existence was wondrous. There was a program about Russian ballet on TV. Old dancers. I don't know. It's like, every old person on the street has a life story. I want to be one of the ones who has nothing important to tell. [I]You don't know life and want to be set free. [/I] So someone came to you two years ago. So someone explained the world to you. Someone left you something. They said you were important. They said you'd never see them again, but they were trying to scare you. Don't worry. Someone always comes back. My net keeps screwing me over. We're in this difficult period and I blame my self mostly. It never lets me online. And when it does, from time to time, it goes real slow to the point of nothing happening. I survive though, I have this cable that connects me directly. But I prefer my real net to it, any day.
The smell of the trees filled me with bliss. Never had a cold spring evening felt so glorious, since the last time I left my house after 9PM. Natures scent was a violent embrace, strangling me with its spiked tentacles. It was as if I had fallen in love with the moment itself, but hurt infinitely inside me, as I knew moments always come to an end. It was sheer pleasure and perfection; for some few fleeting scenic seconds, existence was wondrous.

There was a program about Russian ballet on TV. Old dancers. I don't know. It's like, every old person on the street has a life story. I want to be one of the ones who has nothing important to tell.

You don't know life and want to be set free.

So someone came to you two years ago. So someone explained the world to you. Someone left you something. They said you were important. They said you'd never see them again, but they were trying to scare you. Don't worry. Someone always comes back.

My net keeps screwing me over. We're in this difficult period and I blame my self mostly.
It never lets me online. And when it does, from time to time, it goes real slow to the point of nothing happening.
I survive though, I have this cable that connects me directly. But I prefer my real net to it, any day. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27409 I said "from hell they came," they're evil puppet people, baby http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27014 Sat, 03 May 2008 17:38:21 GMT That was a lot more complicated than it needs to be. The title says it all really. PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=27014 Every moment I see you is a moment I don't get to dream about you. http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=26901 Wed, 30 Apr 2008 19:54:22 GMT I believe I'm the happiest little hamsterlover on this side of the planet. Now you may ask how you tell sides of a sphere but that's not what we're talking about now is it. In 20 breathtakingly heartbreaking, violently exciting, mind-bogglingly mad, insanely expectant yet amazingly average minutes, another third will be added to my triforce of awesome. [CENTER]Let me sum it up. [/CENTER] [CENTER][IMG]http://img236.imageshack.us/img236/7206/abominationschnp9.th.png[/IMG] [/CENTER] Thank you, thank you. No, really. Thanks. I never expected this. I will use this opportunity to kill orphans and consume your souls with yoghurt.
Let me sum it up.


Thank you, thank you.
No, really. Thanks. I never expected this. I will use this opportunity to kill orphans and consume your souls with yoghurt. ]]> PurpleSneaker http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showentry&e=26901