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4/29/2006 And you all thought invisibility was goodWhat is it like, then, to be mere ribbons on the polished oak floor you most idolize? To have been broken down again and again is a humiliating experience, and it sucks the life out of you to know that each re-invention of yourself does not work for one reason or another. There is a gaping, black, sucking hole inside your chest, and with each kick you shrink a little smaller. So you do what you must to get by as smoothly and quickly as you can, but each night, while trying to sleep, there is that eternal and incurable cold that creeps up sucks your life force from you. Despair and weakness creep on in.
With the invisibility comes the deafness of everyone. Screaming bloody murder in their ears does not rattle them; they merely cock and eyebrow and turn away, hoping for, or falling back on, something better than you. When you are worse than nothing, it's usually the falling back on they do. So there you are, wondering what the point of you existing is if no one wants to touch you, wants to see you, wants to listen to you.
When the initial shock of one thousand 'I love you's wears off, they sprint like gazelle's to whatever comes next, and then you wallow and die in a qucikly-evapourating waterhole; mud cakes your face as you lay and wait for the inevitable.
The ultimate torture is dying of thirst, and being unable to reach for the glass of water right in front of your face.
Similarly, people will run from you. These are usually the people you need the most. Eh, they don't show they care at all. You are merely a side-attraction, as you always have been to everyone. There is no way to know if they are sincere; no way to know if their words are very hollow. For every three words of theirs that mean nothing, the chasm within you grows deeper under the surface, and when it is finally revealed that you are nothing to them, and that their words were just some kind of validation for yourself, the surface is removed entirely, and you are just an empty hole; a useless eating machine.
Why is it that from birth, some people have all the luck, while others have none? Those with no luck always expect the least, lest they find a life of disappointment and heartbreak. This is no kind of justice, because people will always stay with what they have, or what they have known, and you cannot win. You always seem to lose when love comes in for a low run. You are always the last choice in any race in life. And when it comes down to it, those who say they love you must not, for else they forsake the others.
C sharp may be a suicide note. 4/23/2006 Box Social #3My two brothers and I used Saturday morning to clean up the ol' pad for the box social that night. I sat around doing fuck-all all day, until Kelly arrived at about 2:30pm. We played some guitar until Brady showed up a short time later. Soon after, Brady and Matt and I set up the musical stuff inside the garage, then Joe and Kelly and Brady and I played some basketball. Then we went back inside and everyone started to get ready. As for costumes, Joe was an army dude, Matt was one of the Blue Brothers, Brady was a glam rocker, Michelle was a cowgirl and Katie was a schoolgirl. Kelly became Sarah Blasko (and showed off her sexy new boots) and I became Anthony Kiedis (of course). I had a bit of Vodka to kill my nerves before the band started to play. It didn't sit in my stomach right, so I didn't drink for the rest of the night. When Aaron's girlfriend arrived, we moved our stuff outta the garage and kicked the amps on.
Our set was:
1. Hysteria
2. Burn The Witch
3. Sunshine Of Your Love
4. Apache Rose Peacock
5. Motoring Along
6. Dani California
The solo of Dani California ended suddenly when the drummer stopped drumming, some dude yelled in Brady's mic and Brady proceeded to beat him with the bass. Then Aaron, being all like "What the fuck is going on?" just stopped. So then that was the set and we proceeded to pack everything back into the garage. Brady was all pissy that his dream of rock stardom didn't go flawlessly and with blow-jobs on stage.
Matt said "I think I went alright on drums. I didn't fuck up on most of the songs."
Brady bitterly and girlishly commented "Yeah, only on six of 'em." I sang quite alright... Far better than at rehearsals. I screwed the lyrics a couple of times, but hey, it reflects the amount of $$$ I was paid for the gig.
So then the party went not a lot of anywhere after that. Kel and Byron and I sat in my room and talked for a while. More and more people showed up. The music was shut down at about nine, since some cunt half a click away called the fuzz for noise. The fuzz showed up ten minutes after the complaint was lodged. We stood around and crap for a few hours, talking and what-not.
Close to midnight, Kelly was playing Minesweeper on this computer, flanked by Byron and I. Brady came in after having BEEN DRINKING ALMOST AN ENTIRE STRAIGHT 700ML BOTTLE OF SMIRNOFF. He was drinking water. The conversation went something like this:
Frank: Oi, dude, if you're gonna throw up, do it in the toilet, not out here.
Brady: No, I'm too tired.
Frank: Too tired? Get fucked! Throw up in the can, not out here.
Brady: Carry me, then.
Frank: Carry y...? I'll kick the fuck outta you if you throw up here.
Brady: *throw up a ridiculous amount*
Splashed Kelly's new boots, too. Bless her, she was so concerned about him. Me? I was enraged. Brady started rolling around in his spew for a while. I got Tim and Quincy and Karl to throw Brady outside, and Kelly waited with him while he continued throwing up. I soaked it up a bit and spinkled some kind of vanilla stuff on it to stop the stench. So then there were a buttload of cunts who were not invited. At this point, the party got closed down, and then gangs started to assemble out front. Cops were called, and took an hour to arrive. Cowards AND scum of the earth.
Brady moved to the corner of the yard, and I hear that he was screaming for water, and choking on his vomit, so dudes started throwing buscuits at him or something. I went to bed around 12, and went to sleep around 4.
I also have a photo of Kelly (that little saint) trying to help Brady out while he's lying in a pool of his own vomit. If ya wanna see it, comment this wish.
Anyway, later. 4/21/2006 (8)The power of IN-SAN-IT-YYYYY!(8)"Two tribes of city folks, taken out of their 60th floor Wall Street offices and their KKK dens, and pitted against nature and each other in the name of reality television.
And here's the twist:
The technology neccesary for them to survive in their environment hasn't been invented yet!
Survivor: Mars... Coming soon." 4/13/2006 One more reason to stab Frank in the faceI was walking west, into the setting sun, on my way home from Maccas. I had my sunglasses on, so the glare of the sun was replaced with a pastel white over my vision. Walking down the road, I saw a girl walking towards me. She was wearing a short red dress, and had long, thin legs. I thought "Hey, she looks alright." So, I removed my glasses to get a better look.
And she was a fucking mailbox.
Not even a femail box.
A god-damned mailbox. I have hit a new low.
In other news, I made two comics. The first one has usually Brady as T-Rex, the second is where God is played by Brady, I am Satan and T-Rex is whoever happens to be within earshot. 4/9/2006 SaturdaySo, after little sleep, I awoke at 0800 on Saturday morning. I got to the train station at 0920, and was at Central at something like 0945, or thereabouts. I walked over the river to the pagoda on the other bank. Seeing as it was only 1010, I figured I could walk 10 minutes along the bank, and 10 minutes back. Kelly sent me a message telling me she was gonna be late, so I figured she'd be about 10 or maybe 15 minutes late. Some red-haired English girl asked me to take her picture with the CityCat behind her, so I did, thinking "Gee, you're trusting" and looking like an idiot by asking how to operate said camera. So I found the market, and was looking for a particular tie, when I found the sweets shop. I went in and got me a bag of Gummi Bears and sour worms. Then I saw some Chicos and was all like "No way can I walk past these.". The markets were lame, so I found the pagoda again and waited. At about 37 minutes past the hour of 10, I got a message from Kelly. She was gonna be there in 45 minutes. I saw inside this pagoda, some dumb Chinese cunts threw money at this cased statue of Buddha. Crazy Chinese. So I walked down the river, crossed the Goodwill bridge, walked through my uni, walked through the Botanical Gardens, walked out past the casino, back over the first bridge and to the pagoda. I waited for a couple of minutes before Kelly got there. I gave her the bag of Chicos, the top of wish was wet from the sweat of my hand. She opened them, laughed and started to chow them down. We waited a couple of minutes and went to the museum. I looked at a display about the Victoria Cross, and Kelly handed her bag in. Then we saw a bunch of stuffed animals. Man, Polar Bears are massive, but I saw a moose that could kick the nigger FUCK out of the polar bear we saw. So we got in que, went up an escalator, got into another que and finally got it. It was interesting, this display. Egyptian history ain't my cup'o'tea, but hey, it's history. I can conclude that Egyptians are lazy cunts. The Egyptians needed to to work in the afterlife, so they made these small statues that would come to life and do their work for them. There were a BUTTLOAD of these statues. I also conclude that, since there were so many freakin amulets in this display, Ancient Egypt was a giant game of Dungeons And Dragons. We saw a mummified foot, hand and a couple of heads. It was cool. Toward the end, I was getting hungry, so I was giggly and being an annoyance to Kelly. Near the end of the exhibit was the fire door, and some kid came and looked at the diagram on the door. I was all like "That's an escape plan, kid." He laughed and was embarrassed. I said "Oh those crazy Egyptians and their fire safety." Also, I told a bunch of young girls that Kelly was crazy, and so Kelly got up me for talking to random people. When we left, we tried to find a World War One tank, but the floor it was on did not exist. So, we crossed the bridge to Queen Street, looking at the still water, and complaining about the lack of wind about. We went to look for a tie, then went and got some KFC. From there, we went to the gardens. Kelly drank all her stuff by the time we got there. I saw Jess going to uni. All that grease settled not good in my stomach. Kelly and I looked at birds for a while. Some dude came up to us and gave us some brochure about yoga or something. He looked like a Hare Krishna. I was all like "Thanks, bro." After a while, we went to Allans Music, so I could show off my l33t Venice Queen skills, and then Kelly and I went and got her on a bus. Then I walked through the city, wading among the buttload of emos. There was A BUTTLOAD OF EMOS! GROUPS OF 30 AT A TIME! I caught the train home, refreshed myself and then went to Brady's. In all there were 7 girls there. Not ever enough girls. Didn't drink anything, and sat around shouting RHCP lyrics with some people. After a while, some gatecrashers came. I saw Claire has a tattoo of a flower on her left foot. She apparently has one on her right leg. It was alright. I went for a walk with Brady and Jacqui around the block. Came back, shouted more RHCP. When Jess wanted to leave (at 0030), Brady and I offered to walk her home. Brady and I waited outside, and then when the guys at the party saw Jess leave, 60% of them insisted on walking her home. I figured she had enough protection, so I walked all the way home by my lonesome, and went to sleep. I think I got too much sun. I feel sick. 4/2/2006 Song To Sing When I'm LonelyHere are the actual lyrics for 'Song To Sing When I'm Lonely'.
A song to play when I'm lonely
Win and never play a game again No one to face when I'm falling Holding tight to dreams that never end I'll be you I do I'll be you No one's afraid to be called by another name No one dares to be put down where they don't belong Nowhere's anyone's reason Everything dying and leaving Out with these faults and you make me a baby Faking a movement by no one seeing it No one always finds peace flung No one chooses to beat my pride down Symbols pierce right through me People fail to be drawn up Sunlight to fade accumulates Loving pain to be clung to By luminous bodies Only waiting for long signs to be wrong And true to us Out of place in my own time Drowning thinking that I'm dry Holding on to facts that will never be proven Faking an action cause no one's looking Hello when I'm crashing Feeling nothing when my life's flashing before my eyes You should've threw me down Is the content so much You should've threw me down
Is the content so much You should've threw me down
Is the content so much You should've threw me down
Is the content so much And, while I'm here, here are the lyrics for 'Murderers'.
" "
Vote Frank A. Menesch for President. He President you long time.
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