Digits around the rim

a post about nothing but MY COMRADE

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 21:31:25 GMT

Living with my friend for the past month has made me realize two things:

Iowa is sealed away from the rest of the world, in a time of its own - the lack of washing machines in any home is like looking forward to the Aerial Screw

I have missed my favorite Telemundo Soap for the past nineteen days.

...Ah.

So, earlier today I was squishing my underwear around in the sink and, as I scrubbed away any lingering lady business with my fingernails, something from a day or so ago sprung to mind-

My friend was listening to the Etro Anime album, and we had began discussing Digital Devil Saga ("discussion" now meaning "two people throwing their arms up in the air and exclaiming 'WHAT IS THIS SONG'")- the fact struck me rather hard, though, that I could not remember for the life of me, the name of the group the main cast were a part of. I could remember the Wolves, the Solids, Maribel.. but ah, nothing of importance!

After spending about five minutes lamenting and wringing my hands, we moved on to a different album with an insincere "maybe we'll just google it later".

Earlier today though, as I moved on to squeezing a peachy leopard print bra around in my hands, it came to me! My thumbs dug into the lightly padded cups, and I threw it across the kitchen, exclaiming--

THEY WERE THE EMBRYON. THAT'S WHO THEY WERE.

and then I needed to clean elephant garlic off of my bra.

(I miss you terribly, romeokuro.)

and now, a post written on the fly.

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 21:54:39 GMT

It is so typical, for a song to remind one of their emotions - humanity they have forgotten. But, it is a typicality quite foreign to me. I've heard it said many times by many more people that a song has made them cry, but it was always in such a way that you simply knew they were lying - such a way that was merely a cry for attention, a desire to fill an empty heart. Though I could not remember - I've said a great many things in my dreadfully long time on this earth - I've perhaps made an empty claim such as this, too.

While I was working the other day, I had the overwhelming urge to revisit the sounds of many years ago. Dreadful as it may be to you, Scandinavian and French Canadian Indie painted my skies at a point. Whenever I spent time with my companions, those shallow companions that never last though you think they're the world, music had played. I had so long ago moved on from them though, and not in poor spirits - but when I had put that song on, all of that time blissfully wasted came swimming back to me from the tears streaming down my cheeks.

It is so appropriate, I think, that this certain song should remind me of them - for it also reminds me of just how foreign they are now.

We remember our bedrooms,
and our parents' bedrooms
and the bedrooms of our friends
then we think of our parents - whatever happened to them?

It is never a terrible thing to think back on what was important. I am so happy now, to smile and sigh both, just a bit more at their memory.

Yes... perhaps people lie to emulate such a symphony of the heart, but I cannot blame them.

this was a very important song to me

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 01:46:33 GMT

I forgot, for the longest time, what it was like to remember those feelings of long ago.

And to remember my skin got thicker from living out in the snow.

i love you, rosa

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 21:17:48 GMT

So often, people readily surrender to the whims of their hearts. The very moment doubt steps onto the ballroom floor of great joy, the parquetry scuffs.

Most surrender to a great, wrongful cliche in their relationships: there is a woefully pervasive idea, that in a partnership, nothing should feel strange - nothing should ever make you question yourself, and the very presense of a second thought is like a swarm of rats into a grey and sickly villiage.

For what is the prison of human existene- a jail cell with roses climbing the bars, for certain -there is a remarkable distance between people. We cannot truly communicate with one another - we are seperate bodies and minds with no way to meld, and, ironically, the complexity of human communication which afforded us our great individuality often serves to only prevent us even further from expressing it and understanding one-another.

It isn't so remarkable, then, that doubt shrouds our view, and we retreat into ourselves.

When two people have tried to build a bridge to cover their distance, it is by very nature rickety. You cannot truly trust the person on the other side, and you cannot tell if it is a bad site to build upon - but for happiness, it is a leap - or walk - of faith - and thankfully, you have someone steadying the ropes for you.

When you throw the ropes across and lay down the planks, it does not end there, though. As you both cross over again and again, wood wears and ropes split - the confidence you've built comes under trial, and you think...

Is it worth it to repair?

Is it worth it to bring a hammer and nails at the risk of falling?

There is nothing profound about these doubts - but there is something we should all question with a greater priority -

Is it worth it to let everything go to waste?

For all your efforts against and adapting to the human boundaries, wouldn't it be so insulting to those tireless times of effort to abandon all for what is a few moments' doubt? Is it worth leaving the wood to rot and ropes to rip because it is the most common solution?

I think we should repair and remodel.

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 06:25:58 GMT

To sample the bohemian lifestyle (i.e. moooch food off of someone on foodstamps), I'll be leaving on November thirtieth to stay with my friend Joe for a month! You know Joe, don't you? Slender, the complexion of a pillowcase - Anyway! I wish to say I'm off to sow my wild oats, but I'm going Iowa - there's only corn there.

I'll be traveling by train, and I'm absolutely terrified of losing my luggage. I own very little - but enough to take my entire life with me in a suitcase. If I were to lose that bag, I'd lose all of my important supplies and the clothes I've gone through so much effort to get over the years... has anyone ever traveled on Amtrak? How easy is it to lose your luggage, exactly?

...Hmmmm. Beyond my progressive paranoia, I've had my share of work to do lately. As I'm certain you're all aware, I've been working to promote the book I was part of----

Ah--

Ah---

Ahh!

I can hear your exasperated sighs from all the way over here, flist!

But we're going to get through this together.

..Anyway, part of the work I put upon myself is creating an illustrated slide show - after writing out the script and doing the thumbnails, it came out to be about twenty eight frames long.

That may not sound so bad to you, but twenty eight frames of this

is just a bit taxing. It took me several hours over days packed with other peoples' errands to create a proper technique for what has a semblance to consistency, and I just bit the bullet and started simplifying --

Ah, at least I'm learning!

No time for bitching - since I'm doing them on paper, I need to get all of these done before the twenty fifth! There is no window to my hand drawn art in Iowa, I'm afraid. ):

...

ahhh fuck composure I'VE BARELY DONE FOUR AHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHH

NO TIME FOR BITCHING SAMANTHA OH MY GOD NO TIME FOR BITCHING------------

Hey ladies (and men named Priscilla),

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 23:27:17 GMT

Check THIS shit out:

In this sixty page book, there are three pages of my work! That's right - three entire pages of Samantha. (There's also a splash by chalkpowder, but that is not so exciting.)

Details and a press release are forthcoming, but anyone interested now? Let's chat about it!

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 22:34:15 GMT

Post ten of any pictures currently on your hard drive that you think are self-expressive.
• NO CAPTIONS!!! It must be like we're speaking with images and we have to interpret your visual language just like we have to interpret your words.
• They must ALREADY be on your hard drive - no googling or flickr! They have to have been saved to your folders sometime in the past. They must be something you've saved there because it resonated with you for some reason.
• You do NOT have to answer any questions about any of your pictures if you don't want to. You can make them as mysterious as you like. Or you can explain them away as much as you like.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

internet: not banana

Sat, 08 Aug 2009 06:56:32 GMT

Hello, everyone~!
I'm really sorry I've been gone for so long, but as you've probably guessed, my real life has been tits up as of lately. I would go into detail, but as you can probably guess from reading this post, I am having someone type this for me, and I would not want to force them to write Ulysses. It made me very sad when I saw that on my last post so many of you—my dearest friends—came out and said hello to me, but I couldn't respond to you. It especially breaks my heart that because of my inability to type, I've lost contact with so many of you that have only wanted to spend time and help me. To that, I would like to reveal that I've recently restored contact with a few of my friends through the Skype client, and I would like that few to become many!

If any of you have the Skype client, and feel comfortable with talking to me through it, I would be absolutely elated to get in contact with you again. My username is bradthebard. I hope to speak with all of you soon—even if you think we have grown apart, it's not your fault, it's mine, and I think we can thus easily repair our relationships in your eyes.

Signed,
Samantha (dictated but not read)

it's funny because she isn't getting any dick

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 07:20:41 GMT

I feel sorry for Constance, she really did get the short end of the stick.

(I wouldn't marry Oscar Wilde, just have casual sex with him.)

Fri, 22 May 2009 05:13:07 GMT

Summer's majesty, upon us at last.
I slip on my sneakers to greet the morn jogging;
laces met with a hand even looser,
I will not tighten them- it hurts.

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 17:03:20 GMT

18:40 Natsu no Arashi's OP: The shadowed out bodies have such a subtle definition in HD, adding to it a tasteful, childish sense of eroticism. #

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canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

Mon, 06 Apr 2009 17:04:35 GMT

01:16 I wonder if Simon and Garfunkel ever spooned. #

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MURKROWWWWWW A

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 06:17:00 GMT

Hello!
Boy!

What do you think about
DROOLING?

Isn't...
INCREDIBLE?

translation: mint_eclair popped my Pokemon Wi-Fi cherry tonight, and is apparently as talented a writer as James Joyce.

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 17:02:02 GMT

16:14 Reading through a list of artists who have committed suicide is far more interesting than essaying about giantesses. #
16:16 Though on the topic of giantesses, we should all get together and get empowered by reading Femforce tinyurl.com/femforce #
16:19 (as an additional aside: ray johnson, you are still my angel) #

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?????ARE YOU LION

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 22:24:06 GMT

??????BUT WHERE IS GIRAFFE

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 17:01:43 GMT

01:53 WHY ARE YOU TAKING MY RING AND BELT #

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too long for twitter (though I stand by my opinions of Tchaikovsky being the better bishonen)

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 04:35:29 GMT

I'm always a little miffed whenever someone calls Vivaldi "whiny".

Delicate? Most certainly!

Flowery? Oh, but of course! Hello, it is Baroque!

But... whiny of all things? Don't stomp on Vivaldi simply because his music isn't loud as the Romantics'!
--Thankfully, I rarely meet someone who can even differentiate music through the ages beyond "Classical", let alone criticise it- but still. Shh.

I would like to confirm your ass

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 02:22:12 GMT

MY PRINCESS,

Should you indeed lose your soul to God, I would tear through both angels and devils to get it back to you!

-Your Knight

starts at your pelvis, and works its way towards your heart, where it becomes...

Thu, 19 Mar 2009 04:32:49 GMT

Everyone! This is rosa and I'm going to spam Sam a little in this post.

by all means, you're all welcome to join in! o/ IT'S LIKE A RAVE IN A TREEHOUSE, OKAY? OKAY.

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

Wed, 11 Mar 2009 17:01:47 GMT

22:17 you do not put your fingers in grandpa #

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Mon, 09 Mar 2009 17:01:53 GMT

00:20 ikutsukixunohana

romy we need to write this ASAP #
00:40 ALSO WE NEED TO WRITE THAT FIC ABOUT KUJA AND HEDONISMBOT #

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hey, choffman

Wed, 04 Mar 2009 07:10:00 GMT

You know that dumpster a couple of blocks away?

Yeah, you know.

Tila is waiting.

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 22:00:06 GMT

15:51 "At least, we did /that/." Araaa, Saint-Just~~ #

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to my apsara

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 06:04:30 GMT

It may have seemed prideful of me to shake off your concerns, but I.. sincerely believe I am undeserving, especially now when I truly should stand on my own.
In spite of that, I am forever thankful that you are there to fish me from the raging rivers I so stubbornly try to ford. Your feelings are like the lacy fins of a Japanese goldfish- they gently brush over my heart like cool pond water, and help to lighten my soul like they do the murky depths.

I love you. Thank you.

Sun, 15 Feb 2009 06:58:12 GMT

Louis Antoine de Saint-Just says:
Sam, we've made the proper choices... the world is really ours now, see?
Many Million Faggots says:
Yes.. it feels wonderful to know the only thing that held me back was misplaced apprehension.
Many Million Faggots says:
Though it is the thing of godliness, the divine are never truly blissful.
Louis Antoine de Saint-Just says:
I can only smile at that.

Digits around the rim

a post about nothing but MY COMRADE

and now, a post written on the fly.

this was a very important song to me

i love you, rosa

Hey ladies (and men named Priscilla),

internet: not banana

it's funny because she isn't getting any dick

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

MURKROWWWWWW *A*

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

?????ARE YOU LION

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

too long for twitter (though I stand by my opinions of Tchaikovsky being the better bishonen)

I would like to confirm your ass

starts at your pelvis, and works its way towards your heart, where it becomes...

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

hey, choffman

canary in a coal mine, twitter twitter

to my apsara

MURKROWWWWWW A