"He drove his kind of realism at me so hard I bounced right into nonobjective painting."

I'm Jackson Pollock.
Brain-matter on concrete.

I dream in slasher-movies.

A group of scientists (not sure what kind) stuck on a ship. Killed sort-of in a "Saw" way, though I've never seen the series. Its too realistic for me, I prefer the David Cronenberg campy-violence fashion.
Also I do not like the impersonal slaughter in movies, I get to thinking too much about the person being murdered and before that sets in its on to the next person. Like cows in a beef processing plant. That's why "Doctor Rat" was such a good book, you get pigs philosophizing while on the conveyor belt.

Anyway two of the scientists had the opportunity to escape with a lifeboat, however they couldn't just walk to it, they were on the deck but could not just walk to the lifeboat, they had to stay such-and-such feet away and find a way to get in it.


The pants I want to buy over amazon has just lowered in price. However there are only 4 left which is why I'm not going to say which pants they are (sorry). I just need to cut down to a size 30 waist (as it is, I'm somewhere between 34-32) and I need to get that gift certificate (which will hopefully come soon). If this works out, I can score $180 pants for less than half-off.

"Rather be dead than cool."

I fail to understand why everyone is like, "grunge grungy grunge flannel" about the 90's.

Fabulous.

"If I'd known it was harmless I would have killed it myself."

I admit, despite November sucking, it was the most interesting month with the most interesting things I had to say.

Bear with me, I'm also in a "destroy everything" phase right now.

A little more Fight Club, a little less American Beauty.

I completed a little evaluatory test yesterday for me to be compensated in $75 worth of Amazon swag. Ever much the pirate, I am eyeing these...



Furthermore my grad school prospects are looking slim, only UCSB remains to make a decision. So we'll see how that goes.

The demo is being worked on, I've hit a snag. Frusterating as that is its a process I suppose.

I'm reading Philip K. Dick's "A Scanner Darkly" and I'm fully entrenched into that, its really good. Also a little like Fight Club in a way...

“Probably he should have regretted his decision. He had not. That life had been one without excitement, with no adventure. It had been too safe. All the elements that made it up were right there before his eyes, and nothing new could ever be expected. It was like, he had once thought, a little plastic boat that would sail on forever, without incident, until it finally sank, which would be a secret relief to all.”

What else in my pathetic boring life is there to say? This post is just filler.

"Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage."

There is a reason the background is black and the banner is a lamp.

Its for when I look at it. The black is the void for which I am left with myself, the lamp is shined towards me like an interrogation.

Here's the thing, I've been talking and thinking about hedonism lately, and my professor gave an interesting lecture in which a chart was presented to us (the class).

What is it that we think---> Is what we think useful, yes/no?---> No.---> Nothingness

To get to that point is to look into a void that which is not explored by culture and society. Not constructed or created a base for which those that think too hard is given support to which they can exist. You might feel this if you are a "weird" person, though you may or may not know exactly why. My girlfriend asks me interesting questions when she tries to figure me out. She said I've put a lot of thought into these kinds of things and yet I struggle with the urge to be "normal" despite the fact of knowing that they are illusionary, them being forms of pleasure, entertainment, and sedation; the alcohol, reality t.v., parties, friends, medication, etc. When you look, however, into that void, all concepts of perceived truth are stripped away. You are left with your-SELF, (whatever that may be) which is terrifying beyond anything else, and most turn away, which happened to me. I am so afraid of this veneer that I know is false to be sanded away that I could not take it. I didn't know what would be left, if anything. Two years into depression, self-examination and torture and I gave up. I failed as a philosopher so to say.

Standing before that void, you will see that the among other things, familial systems are flawed, not because parents are bad people, but because they themselves are messed up people raising kids in the only way they know. Its the system of raising a child so to say that is not designed to make "happy people". This is something I struggle consistently with, where I, as the first born son, is expected to lift the mantle of the family establishment in a rather archaic and feudalistic way within a post-modern society, an egalitarian/democratic/post-industrial society that is designed to offer a ladder up through the minutiae of lower-middle class into the ranks of the Forbes top 100. Which at its most fundamental level is false. That promise, as we know as the "American Dream", is not true, a notion of consolation. That was a hard slap in the face we all felt in 2008, was it not? That was a hard slap in the face for my own father, in which I am (or was) expected to dethrone him in a metaphysical sense (in which all "kings" are dethroned, to have passed the crown down or to lift the severed head with the crown still on it) and in that surpassing him and in old age to hold over his head my power. Thus the cycle, of me to grow up repressed and repress him, and I, as a father to repress my son would be perpetuated.

Its a patriarchal line that I have no interest in being a part of, and I have paid for that. In a sense, what I have found at that void was enough to severely strain certain relationships, and over time, I suspect within the very near future, I believe it will continue to corrode. Not because I hate anyone, but to have seen this, there is no turning back, you cannot avoid the truth. Even if I want to destroy myself within these illusions of "pleasure", I still know what I know, and its enough.

How this manifests I think to someone (such as myself) that holds down these feelings are anger, and I see a lot of anger with my peers, but the mechanisms of sedation have appeared to set in so deeply that we do not know what the fuck its supposed to mean. Deep down, probably, I think each of us know what is happening. Those that are aware of it are medicated, or have some kind of mental condition, those of us that are ignoring it are delving deeper into distraction. I don't want to be a preacher, this isn't a soapbox, but if you are angry at your parents for no reason, there is a reason.

Also I do not say this in anger, or to say that any lifestyle is wrong. Believe me, there are mechanisms that are so powerful that lets face it, it cannot be toppled. However its a choice. I guess what I am trying to do with this is help make sense of it to people that are in the same boat as me.

I cannot help but feel vulnerable writing this. Conversation is better.

"When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon."

First off, this is not a food blog, but in between angsty self-depriciating posts I do occasionally eat albeit not much. I just want to say there is this new Vegetarian/Vegan Indian cafe in Encino (near the Soapbox, Jazz knows what I'm talking about) called Streets of India Cafe that was seriously amazing. First of all, its a cafe, which I fucking love because most of the time I just want Indian food without the hassle of going to a formal restaurant. They were really nice, and the food was some of the best I've had. The fake chicken was also the most realistic I've tasted and its pretty cheap, $6-$8 for the entrees.

If you are in the Valley, go.

My only thing was that they didn't have pakoras, but I hardly noticed.

Second, I was just rejected from UCLA graduate studies, but whatever.

Third, I hope you've had an amorous Valentine's day.

"Forever in debt to your priceless advice."

For the occasion. I am too poor to buy her anything.

"Heilige unbezahlbare Ansammlung des Etruscan Snoods Batmans!"

"There is no medicine for what I have."

The flu.

Between thinking up of revenge plots against the person that contracted this to me (My brother, but he who contracted it to him as well), a movie marathon that consisted of: I Know Who Killed Me, Spirited Away, and Cars, and laying in bed feeling like a steaming bloated whale carcass on the beach all weekend, I suffered. I managed to get myself feeling "well enough" (and I stress enough) to come to school today in which the coffee I had is now not agreeing with me very amicably.

At any rate, this shit has literally spread across my homestead like the plague.

I didn't watch the Superbowl, instead I took a walk, in which I thought I was better, but ultimately proved to be my downfall.

Comadre is probably one of my favorite bands right now. I ordered their album/hoodie combo and I can't wait for it.

“I am interested in madness. I believe it is the biggest thing in the human race, and the most constant."

I had the most hits on this blog during winter.

When I am traditionally most strung out and depressed.

Especially last winter.

Should I take a hint?

"Live fast, die young."

I had a moment yesterday while driving to Taco Bell.

Over the past year I have been valuing youth a lot more. I'm 22 right now, and it feels like my youth will be very short. I am in a scramble right now to suck the most out of it which I guess manifests into some kind of hedonistic trait. So I feel like it is important for me and people in general to take advantage of being young, beautiful, and lustful when they have the chance. For me, and for some reason, I do not feel like I am going to live very long. Don't ask why, but this constant need to get something done cannot be for no reason. Besides, I've been feeling this from high school, that karma probably is injected into the universe quite stubbornly now.

Is this a midlife crisis? That means I'll live to be 44.

So I care about fashion now, which is ironic in that when my family was doing well I didn't care for half a shit. Now that we are fucking broke and on the verge of homelessness among other things, I care a lot. I want to indulge, and I want to accomplish ambitions, before my youth runs out. I want to be a fucking genius, so I read constantly. I write. I think. Because its never enough.

There are so many fucking movies I need to see.

Live below your means during the day, live like a superstar during the night.

Leave a body of work that is impressive, dazzle people with intellect.

Always try and look your best. Make them want to fuck you. Just avoid kids and diseases.

Life is too short to try and prolong it.