Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in aphasia's LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009
1:24 am	hey The world has gone by, hasn't it? (13 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, November 6th, 2008
11:41 pm	If you are republican and sane, then I'm sorry for the harshality of my words. I'm afraid, however, that your party might not be what you think it is. From my view, living in the rural south, I've come to associate the republican party with gun-nuts, chrisitan fanatics, and racists. I could easily have voted for McCain (if not for Palin), had I lived somewhere else. After the past few weeks, though, spite alone has been enough run screaming from all that is republican. Simply put, to me, it's become a party of hate and ignorance. Today, on this great Day of Mourning, I've heard one person say, regarding the election results, that, "it made me sick to my stomach", while another was more colorful with, "it pure made me sick". The election of a black person, it seems, comes with disease. I am sad that I am a liar. I think my cheeks are red right now because of that, but it could be the alcohol. I came close to death, today. Someone in the store was playing with me, and accused me of being happy (which i denied). They snapped thier fingers and said "I know, it's because obama won!"; unfortunately, a very large redneck was also in the store, and they asked me if I was "one of those obama supporters". I slithered out of the question. Even slithering is difficult. When another redneck asked me who I voted for, and I told them that I don't usually reveal such a thing, they assumed this to mean that I voted for obama. Obviously, any sane white person would be proud to declare that they voted for mccain. they said that my boss would fire me if they knew (which, i hate to say, might be true). I'm just tired of all the hatefulness. I'm tired of the hunters who don't care about anything but guns, and the christans who don't want anyone else to be happy but them, and the racists who are just plain vile. I'm really, really tired of pretending that I'm one of them. They assume that I am, because I'm from here, so I never really have to say anything, but it still makes me feel like less of a person. Current Mood: sad (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, November 5th, 2008
12:29 am	It's been a difficult election. today I was told that it's going to be "over for white people". i've also had to listen to old black jokes resurrected with Obama's name inserted, including ones about hanging and lynching. the old white men that sometimes gather where i work acted like these were the funniest things ever said aloud. they keep saying "spread the wealth" in mocking tones, and talk about how the working man is going to suffer because of higher taxes. my friend told me about how this old guy, during a church breakfast, said that they should line up all the black people and "brbrbrbrbrbrbrrr" (machine gun noises). at least, i do know that several memebers of the church were extremely embarrassed by this, but not all of them. a lot of propaganda has been left around, including some that calls liberal philosophy a policy of death, and compares it to naziism. ism. one guy told me, "if Obama is elected .. well, remember 911, that's all". this was because fox news aired a special about Obama being a terrorist. someone else said, "i know one thing, i ain't voting for no damn muslim". it hurts. it's embarrassing. I know that all of North Carolina is like this, but it still makes me want to be somewhere else. It makes me angry that it's ASSUMED i'll vote for macain. just the way it's always assumed that i'm a christian. no one asks, they just assume. someone nearby had the guts to put up an Obama campaign sign; after hearing several people talk about stealing it or burning it, it disappeared. these are people who would tell you that the 2nd amendment is sacred, but think nothing the right to free speech. i know this is messy, but i'm just really discouraged. the other day, someone asked me if i like guns. Current Mood: sick (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, October 10th, 2008
1:16 am	Battle Pumpkins There was once a girl that loved her father very much. His fingers catching in the strands of her hair became a splatter of I-love-yous, and his jagged words were kisses on the cheek. She loved him until her eyes turned dull, and her heart shut down production on self. So she sought sanctuary in baths. Only a few inches of water, because more would have been wasteful, but hot enough that she had to scrunch up in the far 3rd until her skin turned pink with courage. Steam kept her from bleeding love into the water. She was so angry with herself, and hatched plots of retribution against Pink Paw Syndrome. (Comment on this)
Monday, September 22nd, 2008
9:17 pm	You know that I like http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-azqXygCzO8&feature=related Seriously. I've watched this like eight times in a row, now. help me Current Mood: bouncy Current Music: sort of, yes (1 Comment |Comment on this)
8:31 pm	bacon grease The nature of romance, the nature of lonelyness, is the desire for positive tingle. I suppose that's a different thing for different people. I like to play in the rain, I like to hop up and down in the cold, I'm friendly with mud, I like big, robust coats; but just as much as that, I like warming up. I like my blood waking up and storming back into it's customary domains. I like that fuzzy, jumbled tingle, like a Lou Reed solo from the inside. And after, I like the the warm-soft-sleepy-happy. That's romance, to me. Right now I'm cold, and wet, and muddy. It's ok, I do like these things, but sometimes I want someone to rub the warmth back into my fingers. Sometimes I want to smile at someone without any reservations at all. Current Mood: confused Current Music: Gray or Blue - Jaymay (Comment on this)
Friday, August 29th, 2008
4:37 am	I just finished reading 'The Lies of Locke Lamora'. It was good. Really good. I admit to being a bit surprised, since the description made it sound sort of like a Robin Hood rip. Props out to Slithytove for bringing it to my attention, yo. The author is inventive enough that I'm looking forward to the second book, which isn't a direct squeal. seasquid. squealsquids. It's very late. I rather liked 'Poison Study', as well, but it's one of those books where the hero Finds her Powers. That's a fine and accepted plotline, but it rarely bodes well for the NEXT book. My mum is going to make me read a James Patterson novel. It makes me feel so old. I barely put up a fuss. She still refuses to read one of my books, however, because she says they're wierd. I don't think this is a fair arrangement. I'm sleepy. Why am I still awake? Current Mood: sleepy (Comment on this)
Thursday, August 21st, 2008
12:06 am	sour apple is good So, cybaangel, your LiveJournal reveals... You are... 0% unique and 20% herdlike (partly because you, like everyone else, enjoy books). When it comes to friends you are normal. In terms of the way you relate to people, you are keen to please. Your writing style (based on a recent public entry) is conventional. Your overall weirdness is: 7 (The average level of weirdness is: 27. You are weirder than 8% of other LJers.) Find out what your weirdness level is! Looks about right. Current Mood: blank (Comment on this)
Friday, August 15th, 2008
11:36 pm	I always forget about the milk. "All the time, all the time I hear people say, "how can they be like that, how can they like those things", but it's so easy, so easy to get things mixed up. You're feeling this, and then this other comes along, another feeling, then you're feeling both at the same time, and they're all twisting around each other like wither around a rose. You look at that 12 year old girl and you think, "she's pretty", and a part of your brain thinks that pretty means sexy, and then it's all jumbled up. Or you love someone, and they kick you in the face, and then the more they kick you, the more you love them, until you love being kicked so much that if they ever stop kicking you, then heaven help them. And it gets more and more twisted up, like a ball of rolled up sickness, until you turn your own stomach. But you know what? That's ok. Really, it's ok for you to think that stuff. Think about lifting her dress up, think about getting kicked. Things just got mixed up, but you're still ok. You can find your way out. Thinking anything is ok. Unless you step across that bridge between thought and action, though, then you're not in control, you're just watching your own sickness, that's all you're doing, and then you're doing it again, you're risking your whole fucking world just so you can do it again. That's when you aren't being a person anymore. Having twisted thoughts, and being a twisted thing, there is a difference. Hey. Hey, let's be friends. I'm happy to meet you." Current Mood: pensive (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, August 4th, 2008
12:02 am	"The one that can read minds. We don't need you here." "I don't want to be here." "So what's it like being god?" "You think you would like it. You're thinking of all the power it would give you, that's why you hate me. Because you think I'm like you." "Give it a rest. I'm not going to let you turn my thoughts against me. If I could do what you can do, then I wouldn't be sitting here right now. You're a waste of power." "It's funny to me, how everyone thinks they can handle something like this, no problem. They always imagine it starting right NOW, as an adult. Not when they're 5-years old and wondering why thier mother thinks they're a demon. Not when they're 12-years old and trying to understand why the man downstairs would want to do that kind of thing to anyone at all. You see a fine, respected man, who loves his family and cares about those around him--I see a man who fantasizes about rape, and incest, and cutting people's heads off. Everyone has dark secrets behind thier eyes, a background of sexual static that pops and flares continuously. No one wants to see that all the time. No one wants to see that." "You could take those secrets, use them-" "That's the last thing I can ever do. If I were to point at you and yell something like, I dunno, that you like to imagine keeping naked girls as pets, sure, in the back of thier minds people would store away that information. They'd always look at you funny. All you would have to do is call me a liar, though, and everyone would be on your side. They'd want to believe that I'm a liar, so they can lock me up somewhere away from them. So thier secrets could be safe. Oh, that's a nice thought. At least you gave me a pretty collar." Current Mood: sad (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, July 26th, 2008
12:48 am	"I regret every single thing I ever said; I said those things too softly" Nights are difficult, which is sad. I used to love the night, but now I am uneasy with it around. It's still true that I dislike mornings, I can't imagine that changing. Mornings are loud, and brash, and overflowing with positive spirit. ugh. Mornings are for talking, nights are for listening. Livejournal is sinister. It's dangerous for me, for anyone who needs attention but dislikes attention. I want you to look at me, but I don't want you to see me. I hang myself with every single failure to catch your eye. Why do people still bring up Mute and his World of Roguecraft? It's foolishness. All it did was prove that a certain build was good at 1v1 when they got the jump against certain classes that did not have a trinket equiped. The things that people take this to mean do not mean what they think they mean. I am tired. My legs hurt. I keep telling my mother that I want to retire soon, but she just scolds me. I hope I can sleep tonight. I'm worried. Current Mood: nostalgic Current Music: Jaymay - Sea Green/Sea Blue (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 24th, 2008
3:35 am	"Just a slight murderous impulse that's leaning toward you" Kara no Kyoukai - The Garden of Sinners is really interesting. I was afraid there would be no good new anime this season. It's very dark and brutal, as expected from Type-Moon, but there is also a simplicity about it that I like, that sets it apart from some of the other Type-Moon stories with thier large casts of characters. Shiki is the centerpiece of the story, even if she isn't quite sane. Her fall into her masculine personality is so intriguing, since it sheds so much light on her internal struggles. In the third chapter, there is a moment when she looks at Mikiya out of the corner of her eyes that makes you wonder just what is really going on in her head, and who is really in control. I'm very impressed with ufotable's animation. It's very sharp and crisp, even if half the screen is usually black, and the backgrounds are excellent. Thier trade-mark stop motion animation is here as well, only in the form of a theater message before the anime starts instead of the normal anime ending. Type-Moon is working on a remake of Tsukihime, which I can't help but be excited about. I didn't think the first anime did it justice, at least toward the end. I hope they do it right this time. If it's anything like Kara no Kyoukai is thus far, then I will be happy--they are set in the same world, after all, with several of the characters being related by blood. Current Mood: bouncy (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008
12:11 am	i thought up a poem So. Amazon's Kindle. Thoughts, opinions? I finished reading "The Observations" a couple of nights ago (A Novel ~ Jane Harris), and I must say that I enjoyed it very a lot. There are two reasons in particular that I bring it up here; first, because the heroine is tainted. She is no princess, and her past is far from pristine. She is a Good Person, yes, and very likeable, being of the spunky disposition, but still tainted. And I love that. I'm very tired of the females in novels being the ones with the predictable pasts, with nothing to sharpen thier souls upon. The other reason is that the grammar is bad. It made me feel proud and hopeful. Unfortunately for me, the author designed it that way on purpose. Or "porpose", as Betsy would say. The novel was written from the vantage point of an Irish servant (said Betsy) who was writing down her experiances at a particular manor house. Betsy has a way with words, but sentances leave her cold and sulky, and periods and commas should not even be mentioned. I like likeable main characters. It's a problem I have, that I have a hard time with books and stories where I dislike the main character. Just last night, I cast aside two books, mostly because by the end of the first few chapters I still didn't like the main characters. In one of the books, the boy was so annoying and bull-headed that I had to leaf through the rest of the novel to make sure there was a girl character--boy characters who are bull-headed and annoying are almost always given a girl character who is the opposite, as a characterial balancing mechanism, or so I've noticed. In the other book I stopped reading, the female protagonist was gulty of some bad behavior, but unlike Betsy, who was trying to Overcome her past, this character instead tried to justify it. I sensed pride and self-satisfaction. It showed me that the character was very different from me, and that I would have a difficult time developing any sort of empathic feelings for them. I hate not having anything I want to read. I want to get back to the bargin bins again. I used to hate Books-a-Million for never having anything except best-sellers, but I do enjoy the tons of bargin books they have. I don't even bother trying to find the authors I like, they won't be there, so now I'm better able to enjoy what they do have. Current Mood: anxious Current Music: Master of Puppets (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, July 19th, 2008
12:21 am	I am silly. There is something loose in my head. My mother says that I am one of the most sensitive people she has ever met. She says she must be careful with what she says to me. It hurt my feelings, so it must be true. How did this happen? Everything leaves me bruised and crying. So many things that I cannot stop remembering. I want someone to hold my hand. I want a real heart, not this bloody crumpled paper heart. It's like when you bite your lip, and you want blood, but you give up because it hurts, and then you're just left with a chewed-on heart. No wonder i romanticize insanity. Being lost is beautiful, and being found is beautiful, too. But being neither is just sort of lonely. I wish i could be bad, like a villian, and do wicked things and never think twice about them and when I stabbed my own lieutenant for being insolent my mind would be free and clear because the wicked do not weep over other souls or hearts. The wicked only care about what is infront of them. I think that I must not be wicked, for I spend much of my thoughts on looking back. I want to creep back into my past, I want to save all the kittens, erase my embarrassments, smile again at and with those who I have lost. I want to close my eyes and lean my forehead against them, and for them to be there. Being sad just makes my throat hurt, I don't know why I'm so entangled with it. Being sensitive is for the birds. Current Mood: sad (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, July 17th, 2008
12:19 am	Only in a place where I am still. The circle is broken, the sword is shattered, my circle of livejournal friends is blowing away with the wind, like erosion or kansas. like tanuki fur on the barbed wire of god's ranch. I'm always in amazement that Tom Waits is so under-appreciated. To me, he is a genius of the first order. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4vH_dPgxbo "Now, her hair was as black as a bucket of tar her skin as white as a cuttlefish bone I left Texas to follow Lucinda Now I'll never see heaven or home I made a wish on a sliver of moonlight A sly grin and a bowl full of stars Like a kid who captures a firefly and leaves it only to die in the jar As I kick at the clouds at my hanging As I swing out over the crowd I will search every face for Lucinda's And she will go off with me down to hell" It makes me sad, when I think of my on scibbles in the dirt. Ashamed, really, like when my niece had drawn a couthless word into the sand of the rock garden. These things that should not exist within the sight of god. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3mdlXqW4Pg especially for wien-g. "Now at King George Ave and Jaffa Road passengers boarded bus 14a In the aisle next to the driver Abdel Madi Shabnet And the last thing that he said on earth is "God is great and God is good" And he blew them all to kingdom come upon the road to peace" I cannot think. I need to find a niche to burrow into. It's lonely out here, I want inside the ship. That Pygmy Marmoset looks like something from Harry Potter. Current Mood: exanimate (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, July 13th, 2008
8:51 pm	I didn't like the funeral. My grandmother almost seemed like an after-thought. She was mentioned now and then, but mostly it was jesus-this, god-that, and how much they both love us as long as we love them first. It makes me angry that my grandmother's funeral was really an hour-long infomercial for christianity. One of the preachers didn't even know her, he called her by her first name several times, which no one ever did. The other preacher really got into the sing-along hymn at the end--I was hoping he'd set his guitar on fire, like Hendrix, but that sadly did not happen. It was perfect, though, for them. In the presence of death, religion gets gobbled up like candy. Death is really why people cling to religion, anyway. Is it a weakness in humanity, this need to believe in something on the other side of death? To believe that we are protected, that our after-life insurance policy is up to date. I wonder if we the living ever find a way into the world of the dead, if we'd be treated like zombies. Current Mood: blank (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, July 11th, 2008
2:10 am	I deleted a bunch of anime. There are still some that I can't, I can't do anything with them. I'd planned to watch them with Torrell, or they were our favorites, or they make me think of him somehow. They make me sigh, they make me close my eyes and tingle with sadness. I love the voice of the main character in `shugo chara`, `kara no kyoukai - the garden of sinners` is the best anime I've seen in a good while, i can't wait for more `School Rumble`, can't wait can't wait, there is a lot of anime i've abandoned cause it's just not that good. another season of `zero no`-whatever, I gave that a shot, but I simply hate louise. I hate her. I dropped last season after a couple of episodes, and this season after just one. I don't know. I haven't been able to watch more One Piece yet. I miss it, but I miss Torrell more. I think of him everyday, several times a day. the real teeth of lonliness is having no one who wants to see your heart. dr. hook & the medicine somehow got mixed in with my wu-tang. it's nothing like peanut butter cups. here is a sticking point we encountered; in our discussion over the top 5 candy bars, excluding limited editions, does reeses peanut butter cups count? what about whoppers? water makes me happy. Current Mood: guilty (Comment on this)
1:17 am	psot hn. hello. hello. I work in sixty years ago. that ancient box of pudding pops and I have developed a relationship and I have a pudding pop 4U, it's nice and relationshipish. You can't corner a pudding pop, they shimmy around the truth like a naked-witch-in-the-moonlight hula dancer. All these bad intentions. the gates of hell puzzle me. i can't see hell having gates, it's so english. hell is like darkness, you turn out the good and suddenly hell is all around you, with it's hand on your elbow and it's breath on your neck. you can feel hell smile, and even though your eyes are as wide open as wide open can be, all you can see is inside of you. maybe all our hells are personal and separate, unique, and they only merge into one big super hell whenever we let them out. Junior still won't come inside the store when I'm there. A part of me is proud of that. He has gone on record as saying that i'm the meanest employee to ever work there. I'll never forget that first day I saw him. he sat in his truck and watched me all the way walking inside. i thought about how much of a vulture he looked, but now i think he looks much like a shark, too, maybe at a 5:3 vulture to shark ratio. I think he has an extra, clear membrane that covers his eyes when he's lying about something. last night I had a dream. we were all, yes even you, standing in the airport, leaning on a big cart of our luggage, when this group of small-town wrestlers stopped beside us. they were admiring the animal hunting trophies and awards that we'd collected in homage to one of our local self-proclaimed community pillars. the wrestlers looked really, really beat up and raw, like human sausages. There was a kid with them, with red hair and a really annoying country voice. one of the wrestlers took the kid's arm and did some kind of THING to it, and it just snapped all over. the kid was looking at his shattered arm like it was the coolest ever. then he said, "I want you to pop my eye like a dog pops corn". the wrestler pressed the kid's face until his eye popped out, and then he squeezed it to bursting everywhere. the kid was very happy. my grandmother died yesterday. all the boys want that wintergreen tabacco now. and we sell it to some of them. is that shocking? it hits me, sometimes, that society says it's wrong, and that anti-tabacco group thing would make a commerical about us, and call us big tabacco. it's wierd, though, when it's reality. some of these boys have quit school, they work in the fields, or in logging, they work 10 hour days and come in all dirty and wounded, so tired that they aren't even like kids anymore, and then someone says that they can't make decisions for themselves. thier parents have told us it's ok, so we go by that. I know how i feel in theory, but reality has harder edges. people always invite me to church. it's funny, the other day I heard someone rant that christians aren't treated fairly anymore in this country. all I could think about was that we are in the south, and if i told them that I didn't beleive in thier god then I would be the one who was closed off. and i would be, I don't doubt it for one moment. even people who believe themselves to be good can be rotten at the core. you know what? I don't love my country. oh, don't get me wrong, I like my country and all, i think it's a fairly good country as countries go. It's just that I don't feel able to love something like a country. People, sure, and pets, and maybe pickles, but a country? I can't bring myself. Am I gonna be LJ-tapped by the FBI now? hmm. It's odd, though, when you accept a truth about yourself despite the constant conditioning period called childhood. one of my most vividly emotional memories is from a Revival sermon when I was a kid. The preacher was really, really good--I remember crying, and desperately wanting jesus christ to forgive me. I wanted to accept him as my personal savior. but still, i think a part of me knew that I'd been bullied into it. That preacher reached out and grabbed me with his words and forced my head down into his conviction. I don't like it, it makes me feel dirty. it makes me want to be wicked and spiteful. I don't know when I broke that particular hold, but I'm sure it was slipping even before I woke up the next day. I still struggled with Tom Robbins, though. I'd close the book and argue with him. I'll lick your lemonade for a pat on the head. Current Mood: melancholy Current Music: you'd rather run - jaymay (Comment on this)
Monday, June 9th, 2008
6:23 pm	I won't say goodbye It's been over a month since my best friend died, and I'm still lost. It still breaks my heart. I miss Torrell. We talked almost everyday for the last three or four years. Everything reminds me of him. We watched more than three hundred episodes of One Piece together, and I haven't been able to bring myself to watch any new episodes since. I know how silly that is, sure I do, but it still fills my heart with sadness. I was watching an episode of Soul Eater, and there was a really funny bit, and I could hear him laugh. I could hear it. It made me smile. It made me sad. He was such a wonderful person. I knew he had Cystic Fibrosis, I knew his life expectancy wasn't all that high, but ... I guess maybe I didn't really accept it. He was talking about learning to drive, he wanted to get the old car that belonged to both him and his sister going. I was trying to encourage him to get his high school diploma. I wasn't thinking that he could go away. I miss you, Torrell. We argued so much, but I don't mind that, it just showed that we had our own opinions. I do struggle with guilt, however. Regrets live in my car, and use my bed as a playground at night. Sometimes I can't stop thinking, can't stop being sad, can't escape the undertow of guilt. Then I think to myself that I have to stop being sad, which brings more guilt, because I do not want to forget about him. He deserves so much more than was given to him, so much more than I gave to him. My consciousness has moved into my mouth. I don't know what to do, or think. He was so young. I guess what really breaks my heart is how much he had to go through, and then for this to happen. You really want people who have suffered to end up ok, you know? You want them to pull through, you want thier struggles and efforts to lead to something good. You want them to be ok, especially when they're a good person besides. Torrell, I will always love you. You will always be my best friend. You were one of the most awesome, amazing people that I've ever known, and you brought light into the lives of everyone who knew you. Your life was a positive in the world, and I thank you for that. I thank you for being my friend. Current Mood: sad (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 29th, 2008
11:56 pm	I hate you, all of you. No, I'm sorry, I really don't. But I am awfully resentful toward you. I feel like you should share some of the blame. I feel that pouting is an art-form. I wish I had a crayon, I would scribble all over you. Current Mood: pensive (1 Comment |Comment on this)