"perceiving life as a perpetual film."

the unbearable loneliness of being.

am listening to middle eastern music with an unidentifiable ache in my stomach and niggling pressure inside my brain. how do i get into these things? weird things creep into my schedule. though my voice is my sole companion, it does find difficulty saying the word no to people. anyhow. never knew arabic was so interesting. now i must practise my nuances... no matter how funny it may sound.

i am busy. my friend J., i understand what you're trying to say. but if i chose not to (as you so graphically put it) "perform an autopsy" on myself and show the public what i'm thinking, how will you ever know what goes on in my life? i cannot update myself to you guys all the time, and whatever trash i may say on meeting face to face are the mere trivialities of my schedule. this is MY way of telling you that stuff DOES go on beyond the timetable. or you can just go on thinking that it's uncomfortable reading what i write (or type, rather) and stop clicking on my link. go ahead. i won't be bothered at all. in the meantime, i'll just be a passing face on sundays. my only private time spent ruminating is here, in front of my laptop, alone at night. i thought YOU at least would understand that. but yes, perhaps you've too much to say for your own good. continue fantasizing about starring in some mtv with buxom blondes.

tarkos, yarkos
Wa 'albii maghros
Ayyam aal baal bisaiid itrouh

played two games of bowling today. 120, 119. not too bad for someone who's not touched a bowling ball since a year ago. forfeited a song for my poor pool prowess. heh. alliteration. school's started, and i must start thinking like an intellectual. though i really do feel quite insignificant wherever i go, it seems everyone around me are notches higher on the wisdom ladder. sigh. or maybe it's just my enhanced ability to negate myself. bah.

i am tired. i don't deny that, and this phrase is probably something you'll continually hear and get sick of hearing it from me. but we've lost all that we can't leave behind. twenty. laughable. i don't even ask for a bit of the innocence back. i just want to forget, and i just want peace. seems unattainable though. i'm very unhappy about my ten seconds of fat fame, i really wanted less but ah well. one should be quite thankful with the mercy of the editing staff.

perhaps i should ask for my own bit of island. without a laptop. so you won't have to read the rubbishy dreary stuff that i churn out every once in awhile.

and i'd make beautiful bowling balls out of empty coconut husks, digging the white meat out with my sharp fingernails. and i'd throw them at the trees, thinking they were pins, and then people, because i'd be all alone and start to hallucinate terribly. and all the people i'd love and hate. and bing them on the head with my self-made bowling balls. lovely.