Tom

01:19 am: I wonder if I wrote something in this livejournal, everyday, could i read it in 50 years?
I wonder if I'd laugh at the utterly pathetic shallow depth of my thoughts and emotions. and cringe at the pompousness of it all, and that other p word that i can't remember. pretensious...can spell either.
or would i turn it into a beautiful memory, embelish it and think back to smells and emotions to validate whatever happened since.
or will it be lost in a fiery inferno when the whole world, internet included goes down in flames
or will i not make it to those 50 years
or will i not care about looking back
or does writing every day not allow you to let enough time pass to look back
would consciously mapping my every move detain me from growing
last may i wrote of epiphanies of god and quality that i had forgotten until tonight
it seems a farse
maybe writing would just remind me how inconsistent i've really been, as if there'll be no growth cuz i couldn't stick with anything long enough to affect me
who knows
i dont know

09:40 pm: So I'm in Chile. And im posting on my live journal. I AM A LOSER. no, well yes, but no because it's kinda late and im tired as hell and don't feel like reading anymore spanish, and my family is all gone so i am home alone with nothing to do and i can't drink until friday night because of my druuuuuuuugggggsssss for my enfermedad. I decided to go to the north as opposed to the south. i'll be living in arica for 4 days and then the altiplano for the rest...it'll be cool there are lotsa cool deserts and high altitude lakes that we're gonna check out and we'll be learning a lot about anthropology and i'll use some of that the arquealogical stuff in my study of chilean graffiti and hip hop culture in santiago in youth social movements. i was going to go south and study the mapuche and their cosmovison BUT i decided against, cuz something is telling me to go north...i'll go to the south on my own after the program. i think it'll be cool to live in santiago and get to know some graffiti artists and activists and such, im excited for my research to begin...i started contacting people already but i dont' really start until november. This weekend im going to santiago to see some cuban hip hop group called something with an o but i forget what, organica? i forget, they're supposed to be real good. and i'll probably just stay in santiago on my own all weekend and drink lots of escudo to make up for all the time i've been sober here. i sound like an alcoholic, but my goodness alcohol has been such a nice escape here...i mean it's all been great, but sometimes i just need a drink. ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm yeah maybe this journal thing just isn't gonna happen for a while still...i think i need to be much more bored to do this. ciao.

11:27 am: A

10:48 pm: been having thoughts that are my own so im gonna hold on to them and polish them a bit before passing them on to you because it's the thoughts that belong to me rather than a version of someone else's that are worth expressing, so hold tight, not that you're waiting and not that i can guarantee i will deliver and not that when and if i do deliver that it will have been worth the wait that you weren't having, but anyway, i'll be back.

listen to The University

im going camping starting thursday night ending sunday afternoon.

11:49 am: http://www.froufrou.net/home.htm

check it out.

luke kalteaux is doing a documentary on us bicycle safety patrollers, i think it is going to be hilarious.

The proper way to use a form of the word retard to refer to a mentally challenged person is to refer to them as a "retardate" not a retard, but the word in general can be avoided quite easily.

A resurrectionist is a person who steals bodies from the grave in order to sell them for dissection, or a body snatcher.

Nicole, who i used to work with finally responded to my email. i had the dream about her and jajaida who i also used to work with so i emailed her. she had another baby, and the godparents are jajaida and pam who i also worked with. im happy that she responded because i was afraid she was going to be another fatality due to a loss of contact. im happy about this.

lunch. bye.

04:20 pm: i've gotta purge a bit, feel free not to read but i just feel like im full of shit
allow yourself to have fun
because when you are pouring the water from the pail into the bucket sometimes you won't hear the sound of it hitting the bottom so you'll stick your head down the hole peering as deeply as you can only to reemerge with a lobster attached to one ear lobe and a diamond apple in your mouth
and your eyes will spin circles communicating conceit to alllll that surround you but really you'll just be trying to reconnect the internal universe with that of the outside. last night someone reached down my throat grabbed hold of my heart and turned me inside out and no it wasn't malevolent and it wasn't careless but it wasn't intentional either, it was an extreme version of a slap in the face from the reality committee and now im standing here in a plaster encasement melting into myself. Secret obsessions shared inside a geometric globe confirmed the wonderful absuridty surrounding the union of two spectacularly derranged poets. Everything clearly makes much less sense now and yet that gives it an authenticity that can't be found in things that are easily produced.

Remember when i said i didn't believe in God? Well maybe i never said it, but you could see it in my face. And you could see it in my despair. I've realized i've been wrong all along. I didn't want to believe in God because it excused me. The unfair absurdity of the abusive nature that life often chooses to take became my scapegoat. "it's not me, it's everything else" "i do not need to change because it's the world that's insane". Now i realize that i can't subtract myself from life, im as much a part of the problem as anyone else and when you die part of me dies and your success is mine. And i used to be sad when i was alone, and i sucked relationships like a 67 foot tall vampire sucks the vein of a virgin because the purpose of these relationships was for my own benefit. Love was what i could get out of you, and love was how long i could make it last because yours was all i had. Today i think im less alone than ever before and even though sometimes there may be no person persay by my side i realize that my belief has come to be the foundation i've always been lacking.

I used to take drugs because i believed if i took enough it would unlock some sort of world or perspective that i couldn't find on my own. but the times that i've taken these drugs have been the times that i've felt more numb than ever. a moderate amount of alcohol can buy the close contact that social conventions often disallow, i won't deny that. but the other stuff, that stuff so many people love to crush up and smoke and put in pipes and sing songs about has done nothing but blind me to the beauty of the reality that surrounds me. God, i don't care what my justification was, and im not angry at myself for ever making these mistakes, and im not even sure i'd call them that, but i've wasted time, and that's the tragedy.

my ignorance and passivity are my two greatest flaws. Fear is my worst enemy. i've never regretted an action or decision. yes i've chosen wrong ones but the only time i've felt regret was when i've done nothing. last night i bragged about my passion. true, maybe i have got some fire burning inside me that often drives me to the edge of insanity, but my failure to let it out and explode myself into action is disgusting. it makes me want to vomit.

i wish i could have seen a long time ago how ridiculous i've been acting. i dont' understand how i've allowed myself to fall back into this, and my new constitution is to kill this part of me. i think there was a purpose to having this, it was to teach me my potential, and now that i've come to see what i can do, i will kill that shell and never look back. it's gone.

im so tired that i feel sick to my stomach. my eyes itch like the lids are made of cotton. and ever muscle aches just a little bit, which is far worse from a healthy soreness. but im glad im here. it took this low to give me this new high. i feel like today allowed me to step outside of myself. i tossed myself into the bottom of a deep dark concrete pit with no clothes on, and i stood up on the balcony and saw my fragility and in it found my strength. i needed this low to find my high. i needed a new beginning and i found it. i feel like i can relax now. i found a little bit of peace.

everything is dancing.

and i know these revelations are often hollow, bearing little fruit, but i've tried to kill this before and i lost track of my goals and i've rediscovered it and have gotten back on an old dangerous path, so i'll try some more.

12:14 am: i've done away again with mechanical time
i prefer to keep track of my hours by the drops scurrying down the window in my car
i'm parked in the dark behind a big gray building
i have all these increments of time
to do with what i please
and i've dabbled and experimented and have come to a conclusion
time spent drowning in a bottle is time wasted
and time invested chasing ghosts leaves me lonely
but time spent traversing the creases of a face created by smiles and frowns
has never been regretted

01:34 pm: http://www.purevolume.com/limbeck

don't turn around, she's not worth it
i love this song
i feel limbecky today.
goodbye.

02:09 pm: on gray painted concrete days
we open haphazard closets
to press our cheeks against dusty skeletons
we contort our faces in funny expressions reacting to the cold of their bones
which contrasts so sharpy against the pillowy warmth that holds our heads up as we drift off to sleep

in the closet death is the ignorable darkness surrounding the hole in the pinhole camera
that marks the passage into the wonderful world of edited memories
inside the chamber
hugs tie no strings between wandering eyes and wandering thoughts
and sun burn and frost bite do not exist

i dont feel like finishing or fixing this...that's all for now. bye.

04:50 pm: I can hardly remember now
but it seems important
it was brendan and me driving home in the dead of winter
it was he and i sliding into a snow bank
ending in the softest impact known in the history of collisions
The details are so foggy now but that seems unimportant
it had something to do with a movie
and late at night or early in the morning
and it was brendan and me driving home in the dead of winter
it snowed so much that i felt four years old
and you could barely muster words in that night's cold
it's barely there
but i doubt i'll ever forget it
it was the safest we'll ever be
it was brendan and me driving home in the winter

12:20 am: I'd be lying if i told you i liked the way i feel right now
I'm all in
and all the seats at the table are empty
I'd give anything for a heated argument
even a disappointed look
some kind of contrast to the linoleum floor kind of feeling i've got going right now
I painted my masterpiece
only to have an invisible layer of plastic peeled away
taking the creation with it
More than anything right now
I need to eliminate the "i" in life
my intention not being to eliminate myself
but rather to focus my attention on something else
i want to be secondary to my life for a while
so let us begin
King of Hawaii sits in his wooden frame
Cloaked in riches
the deteriorating body is hidden
ravaged by leperacy
he hides his departure
while others wear it on their sleeves
as they should
wrinkley eyed hero shrinks in her forest green sweat shirt
once held him in her arms
watered him like a plant with her tears
he's grown into a man
now he's to hold her
blonde bobsy twin without a second half
lives across the way
stomach full of pirate booty and misallocated rebellion
sits alone a few feet away
an untwin but friendly face sits across that way
wondering if he could help

shut it bye

12:25 am: Preparation H Dreams
Something about the moon
blah blah blah
they call this love
hello hello hello
goodbye goodbye goodbye
things in the middle
think about it
trim the edges
forget half
alter the other
call it your life
pessemistic man presses keys
easier than the truth

..................
lasst night i dreamt i did cocaine and hallucinated from it and it caused bodily functions to function out of control and then i ran into nicole and jajaida and was so happy to see them, i liked that dream i think that means i wanna contact them.

01:07 am: They Kissed!
What seems to be the trumpeting of the world's largest elephant trunk shakes the floor boards of my light blue 2 story suburban home. My 9 year old eyes jump from the bobbing honey nut cheerios in my white porcelain bowl. I catch the glance of my older sister and begin to giggle because we both know what this sound means. Dad's awake, blowing his nose again. As he walks down the stairs I can smell his shampoo and by the quick beat of his feet on the carpeted staircase can tell he's in a hurry. "gotta go gotta go gotta go go go, see ya later shmooger doogs," he says to my little sister who is feverishly trying to force a cheerio into her small snout-like nose. My mom stands at the kitchen sink washing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher because "that's the way we do dishes in this house". The two adults quickly go over their plans for the day, my dad lists a series of appointments he has for the day, and my mom lists a series of events scheduled to keep herself from murdering us children. As my dad begins to head for the door he stops in his tracks, turns back to my mom and plants a kiss on her lips. "Thhheeeeeeeeeeeey Kiiiiiisssed!!!!," my sister and i shriek from across the room. My parents laugh at our discomfort with the situation, and my dad grabs his briefcase and heads for the door. My mom goes back to doing the dishes and i set my eyes upon the bobbing cheerios.

At the sound of the closing garage door my mom suddenly turns, "He's gone, let's go." The cheerios in my bowl begin to move toward the middle forming a complete circle around the center cheerio. The center of this middle cheerio turns to black and begins sucking everything in the room through it. I hear a strange grunting noise and notice my younger sister turning to a liquid state and being sucked into the black hole. My mother does the same followed by my older sister and finally myself. The noise of this hole is unbearable and can only be described as a mix of a shrieking baby to the tune of ace of base's "i saw the sign". Finally the noise stops and i regain my vision and some sort of form. I look above, below, to both my sides. Holy fucking shit, I am some sort of kitchen utensil, a spatula i think it's hard to see because my neck it made of wood and refuses to bend. I can however see my mother and sisters have been turned into eggs. God damn it! Mom slipped LSD into my breakfast again. It will be hours before I am able to function and will be forced to go the grocery store and watch sesame street as a spatula today.

My egg family rolls into the mini-van with the wood panel on the side. I sprout legs, although still in the form of a spatula, and scuttle into the backseat of the car. I get the backseat to myself because my mom needs access to the baby sister and Kimberly likes to be part of the conversation. so once at the grocery store i receive the anticipated odd looks. They people gawk as if they have never seen a fucking spatula shopping with his egg family. It must be annoying to be a minority. At any rate i enjoy the sound of my head hitting every item we pass and begin to perform an intricate beat as we walk down the canned food section. As I become swept away with my music, i hear a crack. Holy shit, kimberly was just stepped on by the sample lady. God Damn you cocktail weenies! However, i cannot break from my beat to grieve, until THWACK! an elderly voice let's out a yelp and i realize i climaxed my drum beat right in the crotch of what i thought was a card board cut out of a man but in reality was a innocent bystander attempting to buy bread. He died. No matter, we must go on. My little sister and i, tired out by the journey and the general annoyance with our sister being murdered begin to barage my mother with questions. "Why does dad take his trunk off before work, is he embarrassed of it?" "What is god"? "Why is that woman wearing a gorilla costume?" Gufaaawwwwww All the oxygen of the room is sucked into a the large lungs of another elderly woman wearing a mink coat. My egg mother embarrasedly apologizes for my insulting comment and rolls on down the aisle...


i will not finish this story because i did it out of boredom and it is terrible but i was truly this bored and will now go to sleep, i love you all.

12:32 am: it's been weeks and weeks and weeks since i've last talked to you and everything has changed
is there anything that hasn't changed?
there's this girl
tara
and she's something i'll get to later
there's this god that i found in a series of ridiculous conversations with other people as well as myself
there's this country that i came across while driving across a portion of this big fat planet
there's this sad anxious feeling that has peeled away like the outer shell of one of those sponge dinosaurs that you put in water to watch grow
there's this new ambition
this new passion
this new outlook that reminds me of a first day done the right way
so i drove across the country with my friend named abby
we went to oregon, washington, idaho, montana, wyoming, north dakota, minnesota, wisconsin, and illinois and it's changed me forever
the trip wasn't exceptionally out of the ordinary, consisting primarily of driving, fast food, hotels, tents, beer, and scenic overlooks but i met america for the first time
this trip showed me that AMERICA is not in new york
it's in the flatest dullest random spot on a plain in middle north dakota where you're miles from any other person
america is potential
and it's open space
it's where you have yet to go
so i met tara
blonde, eyes that are blue, a heart that's anything but, blue that is, meaning that if i had to designate a color for the heart of this person it would probably be a glowing red, similar to that of molten rock because she is passion personified and you can watch it in her laugh and feel it in her kiss
should you be fortunate enough to experience that
not that i have been, or willing to say either way
she believes in things
passionately
she cares for things
like a mother
she's far away from me
like the stars for people who believe in heaven
she's on my mind
i spent tonight discussing poop and fights to the beat of the clinking of green bottles, you can guess the contents
i laughed harder than i had in a while
it felt good to be home
and the empty space i've travled through reiterated the importance of its existence
talking talking talking there's nothing i like more
i love hearing all their stories and watching their reactions to mine
there's nothing better than being alive
and being conscious of being so
my mom made me sloppy joes
felt like fourth grade again
with a grin spread across my face as easy as butter on bread
i gobbled down my meal and thanked her sincerely
crossing the plains i imagined myself walking naked across the badlands
i looked vulnerable but it was nice to see myself doing somethign worthwhile
i was gathering food to store fat for the winter
when you drive as far as i did you think about these things
life, death, your role in these things
i saw old faithful
not nearly as beautiful as the old people working behind the counter at the campsite
"i'd like to thank you for your kindness in coming to visit us, and hope you come back some day," he says reaching his weathered and wrinkly fingers across the counter to wave goodbye...i saw buffalo, i saw elk, i saw chipmunks, i saw it all but no one interests me as much as my fellow man, "don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya" says the radio man
attached, tuned in, this country is still so alive
i am still so a little bit intoxicated
i miss everyone i can't see right now
i can't wait for tommorrow
i have to go to sleep now, im on a naked sleep kick for now, all natural(said in spanish) no more clothes for me, talk to you tommorrow, sorry for the randomness im just a bit hyper, adios.

01:23 am: i haven't been posting much lately because i am bored of this journal thing...but here's what i've been up to tonight at least

drove tara to her parents' office/factory/warehouse thing in bellwood (i think it's called but i forget) which was awesome and inspired me to want to start my own business some day and turn it into a giant one where i can have big high-tech machines

rushed back to schaumburg, picked up blosch and zlaura (who just got dreadlocks and looks cool) and drove to the bottom lounge to see French Kicks and On the Speaker who were both really good, there was another band but i forget who they are and i didn't like them much

laura baill gets here friday. donna and i are gonna go stay with her at the hancock building until she leaves for israel.

sunday i go with tara to a motorcycle race and get to be down by all the action and see how it all works and hopefully donna and laura will accompany although donna says it's doubtful

monday no work, so maybe brookfield zoo cuz i haven't been in years.

last night i went to ovengrinders with laura p. laura r. and laura p's friends from home and then stopped by falsey's and saw lots of people i hadn't seen in a while which was both nice and odd.

this is all im going to say for now because my cereal is almost gone and i am exhausted and want to sleep.

the rising sun has strings attached
so as we watch
it drags tommorrow along with it
a series of hooks of different lengths
carry chronologically important items
first of which is a new day which acts as a canvas
followed by the hooks holding my eyelids which are mini curtains
and finally the pollock spattered make-up of every day life
what im trying to say is tommorrow is the fine print of every beautiful sunrise
and i guess depending on how you look at it you're getting screwed or blessed and i have yet to have the inclination to complain.

goodnight.

11:40 am: Hello.
life is delectable.
Goodbye.

12:48 am: Fight Sticky Time
i feel like sticky time has got me in its grasp
gravity feels heavier than ever
yesterday's evaporation
is today's heavy precipitation
i.
just.
can't.
go.
much.
further.
im tired of things
so i'll sleep them away tonight
but that won't do me much good
i'd forgotten the feeling of being powerless
and now it's got me in its grip
and my brain has grown two left feet
when it didn't need feet to begin with
and they're running me in circles
asking questions to which the answers i do not know
and it's the gravity
and it's the dark dank dampness of this corner i've backed myself into
and it's the musty smell that radiates from a door heavily decorated with deadbolts
that have got me sweating bullets
that shoot like...bullets...through the heart and mind
wrenching eyes wide open and heart hardened and shivering
and through the pried open eyes
im forced to sit quietly through the film of infinite futures
all of which i was too reserved and worried to realize
the chance we never take
is the grave of opportunity
and an added deadbolt to that damn unopened door

blah, goodnight.

01:57 am: oh man
too good to be true?
we shall see.

...tonight, went to a good dinner and a good concert with excellent company...
(concert: sleeping at last and ambulance ltd.)

started a new band **Rajetsy Mod** prepare yourself.

12:23 am: OH SHIT.
I FORGOT MY MUSIC RECOMMENDATION/WHAT IM LISTENING TO!

12:03 am: today's weather bored the sun to bed
too much cold weather today.

so today, i did very little and got paid for it, how sad. my job is a joke and should not be a job and i feel guilty for having it. i cannot believe people get paid minimum wage and below for doing manual labor and such, it's sick and twisted...and yet i need the money and am having a hard time walking away from this job without something to fall back on. im a hypocrite.

tommorow is an adventure. Ambulance Ltd. Sleeping at Last, and The City Will Save us are playing at Schuba's at 9 pm for 10 bucks at the door and 8 online. I'll be there with a new person.

So Betsy the dog has been diagnosed with diabetes. We've been giving her insulin shots for about 4 months now. Today Theresa was giving her the injection and as she was doing so she pushed the needle through her skin to the other side so the insulin shot out and did not get in her. We didn't know how much got in and how much did not so we gave her half a dose and fed her, as her doctor prescribed when we called. But now we have to keep an eye on her all night so each one of us is waking up every hour to make sure she's ok. It's kinda scary because she could potentially die and hasn't been doing very well with all this, but I'm sure she'll be fine. It's just sad to see how she's getting old and how dependent she's become on us. I wish i could make her a puppy again. Why is it that we become so attached to dogs? I think we allow ourselves to care for them as we would wish to care for everyone if all that human bullshit didn't get in the way. Anyway, i hope she feels better.

Being home is funny. I'm so confused as to what i am supposed to be doing with my time. I read, i work, i exercise, and yet i feel like im not doing anything. at school i don't have this problem. maybe it's because at school you are either busy working, exercising, concerting, or drunk so you have no time to be bored. my job is a big wonderful boredom carnival, so i think about how im spending my time on earth.

the song im hearing right now is Romulus by Sufjan Stevens and it made me think of Briana because he says "we touched her hair" and she always talks about how people are always doing that to her. i must admit her hair is cool, but she should karate chop all the touchers.

when i had my surgery i wore my hospital gown for 2 days straight after i got home, that was the oldest i've ever felt in my entire life. i felt like a plant that occasionally slugged its way to the toilet to drain waste. those were the grossest two days of my life.

brad was telling me that the guys at his work, i.e. schaumburg public works are worried about the new developments in the whole gay marriage issue. they are worried that "those fags are gonna start coming here now too". every day before we go out for work our boss says you are representing schaumburg. i wonder what they're boss tells them when they go out for work, "remember you are representing satan/the hopelessly religious right." i can't stand these ignorant attitudes. i mean im sure i've got some of my own, but these bastards have got to go. we should take a vote: who gets to stay the ignorant fuckers or the homosexuals, im afraid that the fuckers would win, but i hope that these public works guys are a minority. p.s. i know not all the public works guys are like that i.e. matt, blosch, mammy, etc. but damn it.

sleep sounds quite appealing, goodnight.