apatheticThis is about all the bad days in the world. I used to have some little bad days, and I kept them in a little box. And one day, I threw them out into the yard. "Oh, it's just a couple little innocent bad days." Well, we had a big rain. I don't know what it was growing in but I think we used to put eggshells out there and coffee grounds, too. Don't plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me. Choke those little bad days. Choke 'em down to nothin'. They're your days. Choke 'em!Tom Waits
contemplativeone in four women will be raped in her lifetime ... There is something eerie about teaching our daughters how to fight off rapists and kidnappers. We need classes that teach men not to rape and hurt women.
amazed
peaceful
hungry
bored calm
mixedCool. Cool. Cooler than one hundred Japanese punk rock girls walking unsteadily in their hilarious stack heel silver knee-high boots, spending their meaningless money in clothes stores.Henry Rollins (The Solipsist)
I am imagining how great it would be to be able to disintegrate at will. Not disappear in the blink of an eye, but fade into grey, into nothing in the space of a minute. The memory of me would fade in the people who I was just in front of. They would all of a sudden not know why they were standing there. I would like to be able to gently drift in and out of existence when I wanted to. I don't want to kill myself. I still want to listen to Charlie Parker and sit in a room alone at four in the morning. There are moments to live for. There are times, hours slammed together, that are definitely worthwhile. It's all the other hours, minutes and unendurable expanses of time that drag me by my collarbone slowly through the mindlessness of their blank words. Their culture is an amazing patchwork castle of latex and plastic. The edges have been rubberized and the colors have been enhanced. For the monotonous seas that they force me to sail across, I would like to be null and void. Not isolated, but stagnant and floating in zero light heavy syrup like a canned peach. Like a bottle of desert wind captured at night. Why do I want for this? Because I am devoid of anger towards man. No living human is worth my love or hate. No matter how horrible someone may be, no matter how hideous their deeds--I have much in common with them. I accept this totally, but I cannot accept them at all. I am no longer flexible like a new blade of grass in the wind. My surface is hardened and unresponsive to subtle climatic changes. My thoughts are not agitated, but too tired for tolerance. My synapses are gnarled and thick with scar tissue. The only thing I respond to is the old voices. The brave human toned signal I medicate myself with in my room. The long-dead greats allow me to endure the moronic hammer of existence. I am too far gone to be rehabilitated. What good would rehabilitation be for me? It took me years to dull the blathering roar. Why bring back my ability to hear their watered down money mantras? Your genitalia has been overworked and overexposed. Your beats are beat. Your dances are listless and robotic. Your cities are corruption in motion. You don't consume--you loot and ransack. Sales are nothing but low-level feeding frenzies. The desperation hides behind makeup, hair care products, implanted cosmetic aids, and taste-fucked-out-of-mouth clothing. You're an almost corpse. An "also-ran" who has run aground. You're given to the chance to dress up and parade yourself through the ruins of the crumbling tombs of long gone inspiration. Don't ever wonder why there will never be another horn player who sounds like heaven or another dancer who makes you feel your guts, or another writer who will inspire you to rip the sunglasses from your eyes and see it. There's no more to see. That's why I want to be able to fade out. I want to deaden my clarity. Horror jolts me when I look at one of you and see a pair of beautiful eyes that make me think your mind might contain a world that could hold me as the bolts shake loose and fly from my frame. No. I want to be sand under your feet when that happens. The crushing pain when I discover your hollowness is too much.
good... People acting like vicious, nasty, eleven-year-old, weak children. Only when you're eleven-years-old, it's okay to act like a nasty, rotten little son of a bitch. Hopefully you'll grow out of it. Some people grow in to it. ... I despise weakness. I despise weakness in everything. I despise weakness in myself and I try to annihilate it all the time. ... There are some people who cannot justify their own existence unless they make someone else crawl. There's a lot of cops with badges on, and the only time they're real is when they put their badge on and they fuck with people, because they don't exist when they're just not fucking with someone. ... What I'm getting to is there always are millions of people lining up to make you crawl, and when you are in the position of crawling, be careful of the shoes, because there always will be someone, maybe even someone you know, or you think you love, who will be grinding their boot down on your head and if you've ever had that happen to you, you know how much it hurts and if you ever try to advance yourself, which hopefully you are trying to do with your lives (advancing yourself and elevating yourself) true advancement and true elevation does not come when you elevate yourself by pushing down on someone else's shoulders. True advancement does not come by sticking a guy in his ass with a knife and knocking him out of the way so you can stand where he was standing. That's not advancement. That's not elevation. That's just petty, cruel, vicious, weak bullshit by those who wanna make someone else crawl. And I'm not trying to lay some big Aesop staple on your ass, but if you're not careful you can make someone crawl without even knowing it and the best thing to do with that is just make sure that you never do that to anybody even though they did it to you, because it's weak, and weakness is just bullshit.Henry Rollins (Running, Crawling)
hurt intrigued confused