Another long, painful talk with the boy. More talk of our problems, our losses, our heartbreaks and failings. I lost all hope in him today and i couldn't even look him in the eyes without feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. It's a fun thing to face when you lose all respect, trust and faith in the person you love. I feel sad, sick, completely disgusted with everything that has transpired between us lately. He promised that this time is different, that he means all the things he's sworn so many times before and i want to belive it but i'm so scared to because if he fails again, i don't know how i can ever trust again. I've given so much of myself to him  that there's just nothing left to give now. He promised it'll be different. He promised to be clean, to be honest and to be good to me. It really did sound different this time and i want so badly to believe it but i won't believe anything until it's proven. I never realized how prophetic that post would be when i wrote about him so many months ago and started it off with a CocoRosie lyric: "I fell in love with a bad bad man, ever since i met him i've been sad sad sad..." I won't be sad anymore, not because of him or because of my stupid self-destructive love affair with the needle. He promised to change and i hope, for the sake of my heart and my sanity, that it's true, because i can't keep defending his bullshit to everyone and especially not to myself. This is the last chance. If he really is the love of my life like i thought, then this will prove it and if not, i can't keep wasting time and tears on someone who just didn't care enough to prove it when it was really needed.
{I know you're reading this. Don't make me reget loving you.}

I wish so desperately to look back on all of this and laugh, to prove everyone who gave up on both of us wrong, to laugh in their faces because i'll be somewhere so much better than them.

Had a long, hard talk with an old friend today. Everything came out and we cried together over scars both old and new. So many fucked up things have happened between us, there's been so much hurt. We cried so much and promised to keep ourselves, for each other's sake and for our own. He's going to be gone, leaving for a distant land for a year at this time when i need a friend the most, this time when i am attempting to finally fix myself. He loved me a long time ago, and said that he still does. I said the same. Choices were made, fuck knows if they were the right ones but it doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is what comes next. I have no right to say that i'm alone again, because i know that i have at least one true friend. Even if he'll be on the other side of the world for a while, a long while, at least i found one and that's more than many will ever have so i have no fucking right to pity myself. We pinky swore to try to make things right and a pinky swear is the most sacred of all oaths so now i don't have a choice but to fucking stop running. I'm tired of hating myself and the only way that will stop is if i stop being this person that i hate. I've lost so much but there's always more to lose and always more to gain so it's time to stop all this dead in its tracks and figure out what i need to do in order to create a life that i want to be living. I will keep myself, i will find a way.

High on weak stimulants and weed. A nice change from my usual vices.

I've given up on actually keeping a record of my day to day life a while ago. There's too much to say and i'm too overwhelmed, all of the time. I don't know how i feel about anything anymore but i will be ok someday and today i felt the first surges of creativity of the year filling my body, that drive to create beauty that has escaped me for so long. This summer will be filled with productivity, i vow it or i'll fucking die trying. "It's too hard to focus through all this doubt, i keep making these to-do lists but nothing gets crossed out." No longer,  I swear things will finally be crossed out.

"The truth is that I'm a bad person. But, that's gonna change - I'm going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. Now I'm cleaning up and I'm moving on, going straight and choosing life. I'm looking forward to it already." -Trainspotting
Lies, possibly, but maybe i can believe them into being true. All i know is that i don't know what i want anymore.

"When everything is lonely i can be my own best friend. I'll get a coffee and the paper, have my own conversations with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection."
There are lonely summer days ahead of me, days spent sweating out fever dreams in the chill of my tiny home. I will not crack.
"And i talk in the mirror to the stranger that appears. Our converrsations are circles, always one-sided, nothing is clear, except it keeps coming back to this meaning that i lack. He says the choices were given, and now you must live them or just not live... and do you want that?"


Awake, alone, and i've run out of words to say. I think in the words of strangers, these melodies intertwine until they lose all coherence. Or maybe until i do. Lord knows, i haven't found any for a while.

AAlright. Cut the bullshit and pretension, this is going to be honest and direct.

I am getting better.
I am learning to accept how scared i am of this fact and to work past it, hopefully towards a new understanding and the clarity that promises.
I am relearning how to be happy, with and without chemical aides.
I am learning how to stop questioning said happiness and just fucking live it.
I am reluctantly learning to accept the lack of this happiness and the inevitability of encountering this.
I am trying to accept the fact that to experience infinite joy is to know infinite sorrow, and to accept that i must willingly encounter  welcome the latter if i have any hope of acheiving the former.
I feel pretty fucking infinite right now.
I have decided that 'shooting kittens' is the best possible euphemism for injecting ketamine and i will make a serious effort to make this phrase catch on amongst the drug using community. haha

I am in love.
I am ok with this, and i am trying to accept that i am ok with it instead of running and being afraid. I am proud of myself.
I have become a lot more understanding of people and of the cycles they operate on. Every day, i gain new insight on those around me, in both very positive and negative ways. I am learning to stop denying the negative and to accept people's fail- but only to certain extents.
I'm beginning to realize who and what is worth my time, energy and devotion, and distancing myself from anything that doesn't fall in this category. Even though this is extremely painful, i will try to not be afraid.
I am gradually becoming less afraid, of both the present and the future.
I have actually started to believe that there will be a future! When you live each day expecting to not live many more, there's nothing to try for.
I pray that this is more than a passing feeling; a state i can achieve all much of the time if only i put as much effort into being ok as it takes to be not ok.
I'm fucking trying.

I hope you're all ok. <3
always love,
S.

[end transmission]

I seem to find myself falling, but not in a bad way... i think hope. Falling HARD, at that, and i'm petrified. The atrophied heart is reluctantly learning to beat again. I'm scared.

This song is the definition of tragic beauty and i've been listening to it on repeat for longer than is beneficial to my overall mental state, probably. I can't find the version i adore on youtube but i'll upload it if anyone wants it.

Day 1 of TRIP training went amazingly. Being around people who are passionate about something that i believe in so strongly that it shakes me to the very core was intense and life-affirming. I nearly burst into tears while watching a documentary on Insite (Vancouver's supervised injection facility). At the end, there was a shot of a woman, the last to leave. She sat silently, staring into the mirror and there was something so terribly sad about her eyes that i had to fight not to show any cracks. I'm so grateful to live in a city that will pay for harm reduction; it gives me a bit of hope about the state of the world. Most of us start off caring so much and go through a slow process of killing that part of ourselves off, or at least tuning it down to a manageable frequency; work like this is the opposite, it it learning to love and be hurt and keep loving no matter how much it burns away at you on the inside. A swelling of intensity felt deep in the chest cavity and the sky suddenly looks more blue than before. Call me stupid but i'd pick a life in social work over being rich and comfortable any day. Feeling like you have a purpose again is rather nice. =]

My birthday was spent on MDMA with two dear friends and it was perfect, absolutely perfect. The next day, i went to the city with another friend and got pierced, sifted through dusty records, bought my Merzbow ticket (!!!). Spoke in synchronicity and laughed and felt foolishly happy. We walked through the rain to a huge abandoned factory and i felt stunned by how small i am. Sitting by the lake and chainsmoking as ropes creak on rusty boats and the black waters beg to swallow me up inside. Talking about suicide and beauty and the water's so black and solid-looking that it's hard not to imagine what it would feel like to sink, to be enveloped and disappear forever. Tapping into that eternal moment when where you are is exactly where you want to be and there's a low hum coming from everywhere at once and you want to spin in circles and watch your skirt fly up and hope to dissipate. Sublimity sans substances, that simple feeling when you float upwards yet stay on the ground. In love with too many things at once and most of them hurt or don't love me back. Still feel sad all the time when i'm alone for no apparent reason but things have to start making sense sooner or later.

I dream of the day that i'll wake as a cockroach.

Rainbows wept color all over the street... when you went away, maybe one day we'll meet....?

"For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can't readily accept the God formula, the big answers don't remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command or faith a dictum. I am my own God. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us. "

Reading Burroughs has a funny effect on her, so funny that she laughs softly while tying off in the last bathroom stall at lunch in the middle of class.
The girl stands before her friends, or at least, those she chooses to call friends for the purpose of self-preservation. Resigned, passive, she wanders away and they'll never know the feeling of insects sliding into your skin. Stainless mantis legs probe for meat. She smiles to herself and wonders when this fascination, this idealizing will falter. For now, it's pleasant. For now, she can just drift.

Later that day, she looks at the lost boy and looks at the lost world around them. She rubs her hand on the wooden rail she perches on and observes the drop below. She smiles when the old familiar voice whispers 'just lean back... ever so slightly... just lean back. Fall." She looks at the trees and wonders about what's buried underneath.

She looks up at the skies (skies not sky-there's a thousand layers all happening at once) and can't remember the last time the stars have stood still. Optic nerves disconnect and form their own version of the truth.

Everyone she faces has more to teach her and the poor girl's head swells to the point of orgasmic chaotic ending. To and past and who knows what lies from this point on?

Somewhere there is a whole world happening at once, but our eyes only see angelhead as she sits alone. Always alone. And smiles.

Funny, ain't it?



"Melancholy Baby dies from an overdose of time or cold turkey withdrawal of breath."  - Naked Lunch

i think i'm starting to realize what my hamartia is, my fatal flaw that results in the undoing of everything i want and everything that would make me happy. I've been working in cycles of negativity all my life, which end up being the sole cause of all my unhappiness. I'm unhappy because i don't have enough people to connect with and since i'm unhappy i don't take all the opportunites i am presented to make new friends. I feel inadequate intellectually because i don't know enough about art, writing, etc. and i don't bother learning the classics because of this sense of inadequacy. I want to improve my skills in writing but i end up sitting in front of my tv watching brainless shows instead of commiting myself to the art. I complain that i don't have the time to do the things i so desperately want to do and i seem to find endless time to spend on the computer or television. I have so many ideas, so much potential waiting for fruition yet i don't know how to start.
I lack the basic motivation to start a task, that's basically what it boils down to. Once i have started something, i have no problem doing it but it's just that initial commitment that is so terrifying to me. I spend so much time talking about all of the beautiful things i want to do that i don't have the time to do them. I read about writers and books instead of reading the goddamn books. All this deconstruction of the human psyche that i've been doing over the years, all the self-analysis and exploration through drugs, psychology and art has reached its logical end. I've gone to the very core of my self, to the point where there is nothing but a blank wall. Once you dissociate your thoughts from your concept of self, you see the reasons for everything. There's only so much you can do in this pure objective state because none of it MEANS anything and all reasons are equally valid/invalid. There's only so much you can deconstruct until you have to construct something. I think it's time to create intead of analyse.

I am here.

I want to be here.

I'm also high and this probably stopped making sense a long time ago so i should wrap this up. But by god, i'm on my way.

I need to learn to actually update this thing.

Things i love right now: 
Making a random friend at a rave who is actually genuine, sincere and nice for reasons other than getting in your pants and having them adopt you into their group, leaving you with a whole new circle of awesome people to make friends with.

Random people at raves who are actually genuine, sincere and nice for reasons other than getting in your pants.

Epic 10 hours long conversations with people who get IT that include getting lost in forests and the nature of everything.

Spending my drug money on books and feeling proud of myself.

Having crushes on friends without that childish, possesive need that destroys so many relationships (not in the dating sense of the world). Limerence makes the world shinier and brighter when you're with the one you adore or are reminded of them out of nowhere, for example, when a song they sent you plays out of nowhere on your mp3 doodad. If you never attempt to make the friendship anything more then you have the pure joy of being liked, respected and wanted by an ideal.

Soft girl kisses with no strings attached with a beautiful friend. Being covered in scabbed-over bite marks and nail gouges and feeling their texture while absentmindedly touching your neck in public. Braille for lovers.

William Burroughs, who is my new fangirl obsession. If i could marry any celebrity, living or dead, it would be him. I want to be Joan Vollmer, i wouldn't even mind the whole getting shot in the face part.

Getting 2 job interviews in one week and feeling optimistic about the future!

Stumbling out of a dark building at 7:00 AM after dancing all night long. The experience of resurfacing into the outside world is truly surreal. You don't really appreciate how blue the sky is until you spend 10 hours under blacklights.

Strindberg and helium. This actually just made my day. Existential despair and joyful floaty pink things! I wish every mopey goth kid could have a Helium to follow them around. The world would be so much of a better place.



I'm learning to look at things in a way that is much more positive and healthy. Learning to stop being a hypocrite and that it's not such a far leap from always thinking the worst about things to thinking the best of them too. It's unbelievable how much power your mind has over everything that happens to you. Spells and prayers only work because of the faith behind them, and if you learn to tap into that belief without needing any religious bullshit to go along with it, things start making a lot more sense. If i believe that i can be happy, i can be, but if i get stuck in another endless cycle of hating the world and then being suprised when nothing goes my way and hating it even more, what the fuck is the point? There's nothing to lose because we've already lost everything.

On said 10 hour long adventure, which lasted about 5 hours in person and another 5 on MSN, i couldn't help but laugh to myself. He is the Dean Moriarty to my Jack Kerouac. I've always been the observer, the quiet listener, the one who goes along with crazy schemes just to see what happens. He is everything that Dean/Neal embodies, that frantic, feverish energy going in a thousand directions at once. I shamble after him and listen to his out-there talk of obscure French philosophy, heroin, his Russian upbringing (alcoholic dad with a gun collection and all); pretty much life, the universe and everything. For the first time, i found someone who understands and shares my bizarre Victorian sense of propriety, consisting of the belief that grace is the only thing that matters. Aesthetics are all that have meaning in a world where anything can mean everything and nothing at the same time.
He gets me on a level that is nearly impossible to find. I can't help but smile at the looks people give him when they see a glimpse of his madness.
"...because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
I will get this tattooed, i will, i will.

To anyone that actually bothers to read this, i wish you everything good in the world all at once.
Love, always love,
S.

I haven't done a proper update in quite a while, and so much has happened that to attempt to recap it would be futile. All i can really say is that i want to stop feeling this deep, profound sense of lonliness that settles at the base of my throat. I just want friends who'll stay. I don't know where this sadness comes from since it seems too big to fit in so small of a girl but it's ever present. No matter how joyous and beautiful a moment may be, it always comes back.
I just want someone who'll be there. Who'll promise to stay.
School will end and every day will be the same. I 'm so scared of what comes next, that gray blur of minutes, hours, weeks... i don't know how i will make it through.
I just want someone to be there, not for me, but with me. Why does the heart make such impossible demands?

There are too many words to say and i'm out of breath.
Therefore, i present these offerings:

Olivier de Sagazan
This video had me completely entranced, and his sculptures are stunning.
WEBSITE
Coilhouse article


The manic fervour which he is fueled by is nothing short of mesmerizing.
There are more clips on Youtube if you're interested.

On a semi-unrelated note, the Extreme Music from Japan compilation is currently bringing me great pleasure, and it provides a great soundtrack to the first video.

I do believe that this has ruined any EBM/industrial with German lyrics for me forever.

Today i did a photoshoot with two friends. It was Patrick Wolf-inspired, involved tiny dresses, teacups, violence and too much glitter. I think she's calling it 'Teatime with Wolves' or something silly like that. The idea wasn't mine, and it definitely wasn't my usual cup of tea (i'm sorry, i had to), but it was fun. I'm giggling like a schoolgirl in some of the shots because my other friend was there to help out but ended up just reading Issei Sagawa's full confession out loud to me. The viewers will never be able to tell.... contrived innocence, i should fucking bottle it. There's gotta be a market somewhere.
Full text can be found here, if you're into that kinda stuff.
Site isn't English but has a few gorgeously gruesome photos of the crime scene/what was left of the body. Again, if you're into that kinda stuff. 
 
I wore a necklace made of a sleek, square computer part found on the street months ago, about as big as my palm. It hangs by one corner on gold wire and there's wire woven through the nooks, crevices and holes all over it with translucent pale pink, blue and clear beads, and a few pieces of wire with more beads that hang off the bottom. My friend called it a cyberpunk dreamcatcher and this pleased me greatly. Teknoshamanism rules the brave new world we live in, all bow down before Thee Holy Circuitboard. Electricity runs through wooden channels, tune in, turn on and zone out. Do androids dream of electric sheep? I'd hang it over my bed to find out but i haven't slept in days, and i haven't dreamed in... god knows.

While fucking, he bled all over my Love Will Tear Us Apart shirt. I found this exceptionally amusing.

Oh god there's a spider in my room and i don't know where.

Created at the dawn of the twenty first century by Lukas Zpira under the impulse of Ryoichi Maeda, the term body hacktivism was born from the necessity to define a movement of artists, reaserchers and thinkers working around mutations and using body modifications as a medium.
These artists, as oppposed to modern primitives who use tribal anthropology as their basis, practice, theorize and/or invent prospective avant-garde body modifications which are influenced by manga culture, comics, science fiction films and literature.
Made possible by a constant enquisitiveness regarding the evolution of tekno-medical discoveries these practices, experimental by essence, are defined as Body Hacking, and expresses the will of these artists, researchers and/or thinkers to surpass the bio-logical frontiers.

The terms body hacktivist and body hacktivism also signifies the necessity to act and to take our destiny into our own hands and the perpetual will to reinvent ourselves.

Body hacktivism also poses the question on the freedom of choices concerning an ever increasing number of transformation options humankind is facing and re-evaluates the notion of collective interest versus individual interest.

Body hacktivists can only refute the validity of any patent, license or copyright relative to the body and its transformation.

Body hacktivism doesn’t include the need to be modified.
All modified persons are not necessarily considered as body hacktivists.
De facto, many artists, researchers and philosophers appear as body hacktivists without necessarily revendicating it.

Body hacktivism is not a group and should foremost be perceived as a state of mind, as a philosophy each is free to adopt.

-Lukas Zpira, legendary and influential body modification artist(branding, surgical, scarification, suspension, basically any more extreme mods), photographer, performance artist (modification performances and traditional Japanese bondage with his wife at places like Torture Garden), writer, all around genius

Towards a Political Approach of Mutilation
Ritual Body
Above links are texts also by Zpira but are more artistic, politically charged and passionate... please do check them out if you're interested! Personally, i find this stuff fascinating.

Everybody please read this!

Author Harry Nicolaides Jailed for 3 Years in Thailand for Self-Published Novel

This is disgusting and injust and how the fuck can this shit be allowed to go on in 200fucking9?
Insert obligatory 1984 reference here.

the water is warm but it's sending me shivers
the memories fade, like looking through a fogged mirror
decisions to decisions are made
 and i thought that i thought, this wouldn't hurt a lot - i guess not
control yourself, take only what you need from it
a family of trees wanted to be haunted.

and i won't try to fight in the weekend wars
was i? i was too lazy to bathe or paint or write or try to make a change
now i can shoot a gun to kill my lunch, and i don't have to love or think too much
instant battle plans written on the sidewalk
mental mystics in a twisted metal car
try to break my heart, i'll drive to arizona
it might take 100 years to grow an arm
I'll sit and listen to the sound of sand and cold
twisted diamond heart, i'm the weekend warrior
my predictions are the only things I have... i can amplify the sound of light and love.
I don't know how to begin.

I fucking adore everything about this band... the fervent, feverish optimism. The resignation to a life of beauty, no matter how much it hurts. We'll fade, drop like flies, but at least it was beautiful and it meant something, if only to us. They are the 60's psych rock of the new millenium, they are just what we all need.

your fairweather friends on a parachute binge get lost when the wind blows
the handshake's stuck on the tip of my tongue
it tastes like death but it looks like fun
under your black eyes, honey, right beneath your nose
a curse on all creation- every single thing you know
white smoke, white light, white marble on the floor
we got the handshake under our tongue.

Video (embedding is disabled)

I'm feeling rough, i'm feeling raw, i'm in the prime of my life
let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives
i'll move to paris, shoot some heroin and fuck with the stars
you man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars
this is our decision, to live fast and die young
we've got the vision, now let's have some fun
yeah it's overwhelming, but what else can we do?
get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?
we're fated to pretend.
i'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms
I'll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world
I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home
I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone
there is really nothing, nothing we can do
love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew.
the models will have children, we'll get a divorce
we'll find some other models, everything must run its course
we'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end
we're fated to pretend.