Saturday, November 30, 2002

"'Cause it's always raining in my head
So I speak to you in riddles, because my words get in my way
I smoke the whole thing to my head
And feel it wash away
'Cause I can't take any more of this
I want to come apart
Or dig myself a little hole
Inside your precious heart"
- "Epiphany" Stain'd

Three slices of fake turkey, a scraping of spread and two slices of warburton's medium. How can that feel like so much? It does though, it feels like ten courses.

I'm not scitzoid I promise. Sometimes I just seem to not be very good at writing in my own voice, so I borrow someone elses, like when I was in a band and we started singing "Road Rage" and Steve dropped his guitar and went "CERYS!!!" which was I admit a little flattering. Steve is my ex rhythm guitarist, I once nearly knifed him because he pissed me off so much - but fret yea not, I haven't tried to knife anyone for years. In fact I think Steve was the last, and no harm came to anyone or anything but my self-esteem which was already in intensive care anyway so no overall harm done I suppose.

"I'm not gay! Well only where men are concerned anyway"
- Lord Wuss on his sexuality

Littled red dots, little red dots... where do they all come from? Everywhere I look I just see those little red dots and I try and rub them off. But sometimes they don't come off and they get bigger and bigger.

Thursday, November 28, 2002

Journal of Miss Anthropic, extract from "Tenth Muse Nightly"

"Blog-famous theatrical ramblings company Damn You Must Be Bored To Read This Productions has become concerned recently for its readership. A Spokesperson close to the author - a mysterious figure thought to inhabit a dingy boxroom with enough candles to turn the Phantom green with envy - has been quoted as saying "People are taking things that our beloved Vegan Vampire Rat says far too seriously. They just don't realise that anything It says here should be taken with enough salt to give a rhino a coronary" Moreover, the Company is becoming increasingly worried about the fact that the VVR cannot seem to put a foot right in ordinary conversation - leading to a recent abrupt parting between it and the mentioned-in-dispatches "Mam'selle" on less than amicable terms.

What future lies ahead - the relationship between the VVR and Mam'selle being so key to the ramblings of the company? Can the rift be reconciled? Or is this the end of a beautiful friendship caused by the VVR's habit of having all four of Its furry little feet in Its mouth? Only time can tell whether VVR will be left standing in the cold November Rain, or indeed if the Damn You Must Be Bored To Read This production company is Knock Knock Knockin' On Heaven's Door, but another spokesperson, believed by Tenth Muse to be the VVR Itself wearing a human disguise, had only this enigmatic statement to make; "We all come in from the cold, we come down to the wire, where everybody warms themselves to a different fire. Sometimes we get burned, you'd think sometime we'd learn"

Tenth Muse can only conclude that it really is true that nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain, and that when you're talking to yourself and nobody's home you can fool yourself you came in this world alone"

Such controversy! Who would have thought the VVR would be capable of such idiocy - or indeed that the normally rational influence of Mam'selle would fly suddenly to such an extreme! What can be done I wonder? All I can do is hope that it can be reconciled through mutual meeting of ways and both of them behaving like sensible human beings/rats. I honestly did not expect such a traumatic evening after the simply lovely afternoon I had discussing philosophy with Lucy, Muppet Boy, Kathy, Yvette, Rollerboy and Lady B. today. I do find it so refreshing to be among those who find that sort of affair interesting - especially since Yvette had just got paid and was supplying me with pint after pint of snakebite - indeed a worthy lubricant to the thinking process! Mem. must remember to return the favor when my finances improve, assuming for now that they will, and I won't be forced to run to Italy from my creditors.

My but what a day! I think I shall away with me, such a lot of work to do tomorrow! Goodnight my dearest Beth, wheresoever you may be - I close my journal as always to the thoughts of you.

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

Welcome to Damn You Must Be Bored To Read This Productions. Tonight for your viewing pleasure, I shall be presenting more sedation for the frazzled cortex in the form of Random Stuff Byron says, TM

"The letter W seems so wrong to me"

"Look, it's a kangaroo!"

And of course the very enigmatic

"How did you just achieve in 3 seconds what it took me five minutes fiddling to fuck up?!"

Again, heavy sigh. That girl is wonderful, but sometimes you just wish there was a way *not* to get dragged to the pub with a random girl called Lucy Harkness (I'm good with names like that) and sit drinking pints, shouting about Crowley, step parents, star signs, bullying, hair dye and poetry until you really do have to run home like a good little poet and get on with some work. Which is what I should be doing now. I am the master of the humble art of procrastination and also incidentally Potions Master as of last night. Yay. Me.

Is this my cue to embrace the accent I was born with before i was elocuted to death and taught to drink tea with my little finger at a 90 degree angle to the cup? And to start wearing black and being nasty to people, and generally rather sarcastic and cynical? Damn, I forgot - I already do all that....

Found out (through actual - gasp! - talking!) that Random Dave who is in my Modernism and Romanticism classes and who I started talking to on a whim because I was so excited about Beth being here that I thought I'd burst and I'd already prattled to Vivian at great length, Random Dave is a Pentecostalist! How groovy is that - I know someone who does that happy clappy rar-rar-Jesus (Not Isis Isis Ra Ra Ra..) stuff - AND HE'S WHITE! The human race will never cease to astound me when it comes to that sort of thing.

Well I suppose I should stop vomiting great lumps of babbling cerebral dung onto the page now and go do some work. *sigh* where did I put that gin....

Sunday, November 24, 2002

I am the one who watches
Silent and unseen
Life goes on without me

I am the one who knows
What you desire
Will you let me show you?

I am the fate that waits
Hiding in plain sight
I cannot be refused

I am the life in every note
Turn from me now
And be damned.

Plato is so simple to understand that I can't actually settle and write an essay on him. I just KNOW there's something I'm missing and I can't rest until I know what it is. Oh well. Suppose I'll do my Romanticism essay first instead since that will be a nice little stroll in the park by comparison to the Twelve Labours of Modernism. That's what I've done this weekend. I worked, I drank some sherry, I worked some more, I drank some more sherry.. at some point there was food... and then I worked.

Am I really getting this boring?