Mon petit terra

Left the Honors House a few minutes ago for the cold. Listened to Ann speak about the honoraries she is joining, and how much she anticipates next year in the Honors House. I wish I could be there. I'm happy for her, but my desolation is linked with her sucess. I remember when she used to come crying to me when a friend would turn their back on her, now I cease to exist as she strolls into the limelight, my home following her.

Still waiting to hear from the ant-hills to see if I will be an RA there. If so many of my problems would be solved. But I'm not holding my breath in the least. So much of what I do now seems useless. The people I helped recieve no benefit, the projects I work on are taken from me. I've been thrown into the Vortex on Foxtrot B. I'm nothing in my insignificance.

Going to work on a screenplay that no one will ever read. Hope the sun shines on you.

Insomnia induced by @#$^*&^$#

So my Allosaur site at the Wyoming Dinosaur center has been reduced from "Research Project" to "Personal Agenda", and no more money is supposedly allowed to flow to it. This is articulated by a fucking asshole which equal training as I (we started the same year, albeit I was 16 and she 27 or something), who was promoted to head of the laborabory and hill, due to her availability. So now all research is cut from the company payroll. I'm the last employee to stay from the researchers, and that's due to overwhelming financial need. So overwhelming that I have 20 dollars to stretch for the next three months. HA!!!! Maybe I could donate plamsa for gas money, what do you think, Blood for Oil? Fucking how many years of my life at the WDC, and all because of a "Personal Agenda". Fucking spectacular. Watch a research institution go from aspiring accreditation to Walmart in a fucking year.

In other news, my father has lost his job, I have to move from my home (another one, seperate from the one my family might have to move out of), and there are no other prospects besides fucking away my time in Thermopolis on a "Personal Agenda". The turn signals to my car are out, effectively keeping me from driving at night, or in multilane streets (aka city, interstate). Oops, there goes Easter vacation with my family. I fixed my headlights, and then the fucking turn signals go out 10 minutes later. Fuck them too.

So now it's like fucking five in the morning, I tried to go to bet but when I get stressed out my back hurts, and doesn't stop hurting, effectively creating insomnia. Oh, did I mention that my ex girlfriend asked my best friend out a week after dumping my sorry ass, telling me she felt she shouldn't be in relationships? Oh yeah, and all my friends hang out with her mostly. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it just sucks on my end of things, with everythign else. I think that's everything... yeah, just about.

goodnight, better luck to you all. Fuck everything :)happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappy
happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappy
happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappy

Mindfuck

Discard this never-ending, everbending old simulacra simulation what life was like to a future amoreux saying

"So jaded, eyes faded,
screaming what's to do with all this speaking bullshit?"

Descend through your grandmotherfucking old chemodana simulation as it casts it's sillouette by the window screaming

"So jaded, belated
So lately try to find a way through this torn wrist jungle of another lover,

ch'
Deep in the places where a thousand others to say that how could you let yourself go like this to say that somehow one would ever stay?

Defy to cry as the blood pours past 8 fucking staples for a girl named Alyssa on a shamed February night when I

"Was lonely, was younger
when I was just another eccentric maker for my pity

Past fists and goodchilds to try and justify my failure to accept my absolute dismisal of this failed overloved lover cause I,

ch'
Creep through the mines where a couple others strayed to say that how could you just cut and kill to say that you were something different?

Escape the clutches of another frau tussi thinking somethings got to give make it crumble when I fuck up crying only to myself because I could only be myself when you built walls where others shamelessly let me in with a blue orchid and a promise that could not hold.

v humanland club plasmid

Felt a really strong impulse to go skating today, and with my dinky little Toy Machine deck I cruised across campus in a 13 degree night, thinking of characters from Simulacra. Imagery from v humanland crossed my mind, and a subtle Latin chant started in the background, something like

"Let love come,
Let hate come,
They will bathe in our place."

I couldn't tell you what that would sound like in Latin, but it would need to be with a bass section for the first two lines, then a tenor for the last line, rising in intonation until "our place", which cascades a little down. Then a french voice slides in

"Je suis le mythe liez votre histoire, mentir comme un arracheur de dents. Je suis le amour requere votre haiziz, l'ordre reve est leger... ect."

Which though horribly structured, still serves as a rythmic vocal, serving as a sort of metrenome. Then a German voice slides in, deeply speaking

"Let our love bind our eyes to the dark, to see only what we will. Clear the world, leave sunshine and faith, let our minds become cells. The child you thought would never live, rise and become your new sponsored messiah... etc."

Ich weis nicht as to what that sounds like in German, but the deep voice serves as the vocal piece. I intend on a mixture of violins crescending down, but not in that stale predictable form commonly found in motion pictures but in a clear, distinct path, the notes should form a parabola forming our base, much like that when you take the Hardy-Weinberg-Clarke formula (q^2 + 2pg + p^2) and graph it. Then a bass guitar with a distinct Tool/Korn fusion sound to it drive in pattern with the French vocals.

This would be perfect for the sequence when Soahc (demon) leads Assagiz (human) and Mon Coeur (angel with brown eyes and wings) to the macabre club, with subsequent introduction to Hound (okay, re-introduction) and awkward scenes between Soahc and Truh (another demon). Not quite a montage, not quite a solid scene, it serves to build up apprehension over the slave's revolt and sets up Orv (human, mais origional). Have to be timed though, there would be a momentary buildup before most of the music fully forms, and it would have to be continuous, a flowing piece.

But still futile; something that no one else will hear or see.