Monday, February 11, 2008

a collection of journal entries from the start and end of the year, i was going to publish them in a book, but this is so much better and free and immediate:

5:27 am- December 27- two thousand and seven

I went to see leyla today, I was quiet, but it was nice to be with familiar people. Her and hugh and juliette went and drank by the river in the city. There where a lot of drunks in the city, screaming and puking, but the sun was good and hot and it baked my skin. I watched the river for a while, I watched a lot of trash float by and some of it looked like glacier monsters and lonely cannons and official documents and crystal beasts. Leyla said she wished it was cleaner, but I like the trash, it had really wonderful shapes.

I slept for about 40 minutes in three different bursts last night. I can’t sleep for more than that for a few months now. I remember waking up in anwyn’s house next to chris and simon and trying to focus on a dream and go back to sleep. Eve is coming home, everyday it scares me more, I have become different and colder, I terrified that when she comes back and she sits next to me and we close to eachother again that I will still feel alone. Since last January she has been something to focus on and a reason to tense my body and sleep through all the sickness and try and book tours even if they fall over and record the records and write letters to people and draw and occupy myself, keep myself from becoming depressed and useless again. I remember the stupid boring problems of touring like lonliness and boredom and hatred and the same boring problems of not touring, and I remember thinking of eve each time and thinking so long, focusing so long on what she would do if she where here and she knew I felt this way and I got through it. She was like a ghost of great power living in my belly and coming out when I needed her.

On Christmas me and Stanley got into another fight, I wanted to beat the teeth he has left out of him and kick him the fuck out of my house, but zac calmed me down, mom was in tears, stan went home soused on cask wine and now he is trying to bargain with me so he can come over on thursday and bring his kids for a “Post Christmas Christmas Dinner” I told him he’s welcome as long as he doesn’t have any alcohol. Mom wants him here, I don’t know why, she feels sorry for him I think. I wish he’d learn to live alone. That idiot needs some hours alone. When he lived here he was always on my ass about getting a job or doing better in school, he never believed I had faced any “real world problems”. He couldn’t even come see me in hospital for more than an hour. He lived here for 8 years, I must have had at least 30 admissions over those 8 years, he visited me maybe three times for less and two hours each time. I’d watched kids younger than me die all over the place and old people have no sense of where they are or who they are and I’d had to spend hours a day alone thinking about my own death and pain. He never gave a shit, he wanted me to get through school and get a career like he had. I can’t think of anybody I want to be less like in the world.

I am drawing and writing for hours everyday, pushing myself to make something. It’s all I have. THIS is all have, can you believe that?

1:07 pm- December 28- two thousand and seven

I have started to get letters from friends asking why they don’t see me anymore. I don’t know how to reply. I feel so alone it just seems sad trying to see people.

8:05 am- December 29- two thousand and seven

I got drunk last night. I can’t stop getting drunk, I can’t stop trying to get close to strangers I meet at parties. It’s easy, I don’t care if they think I’m sleazy or stupid or mean or ugly. Last night I tried to tell a girl about the secret pain and hate and joy I have. She just seemed confused, so we kissed and rolled around for a while, then she moved onto zac, her “real crush”. I layed in zac’s bed and thought about Claire. There’s always somebody to hurt in whatever you do. I wanna be good to her, but I am such a fuck up. This guy dan gave me ecstacy last night, it was bright pink and tasted like shit. I got a funny feeling from it though, I kept thinking about my “pyramid of death hate” with the rainbow hate laser and the skull.

It’s silent and calm here in my room. I can hear bugs and wind outside and it’s good here. I have my list of bands to review and listen too. I have been searching for them a lot. Found a few good ones this morning after I caught the train home from zac’s party. I thought I’d try and write Anwyn and Claire this morning, I miss Claire so much and I want to speak with Anwyn and see how she is. I didn’t speak to her closely at all while I was in sydney last time. My guts feel like evil knots. It scares me to write people I care about.

It’s a few hours later now, I still haven’t written anyone. What am I so afraid of?

A few hours later again, today Stanley and his kids are coming over. I am doing what I can to hold the hate down.

Lunch was alright, the boys are always funny and good to see. i wish I could see leyla tonight, it’s cool to be around her, I don’t have to say much if I don’t feel like it. I finally got the guts up to call her and ask her over, she didn’t pick up. Looks like another night alone. Might sit at the window and watch the light go out, it’s been a while since I did that and I miss it.

Later 10:03 pm. I did some drawing worked on my band list, played piano for a while and that felt good. I tried hard to make it really alive and full of movement. Tried to have different rythms. I could hear everybody out in the backyard sitting around jef as he played old songs on guitar. Made me feel lonely, stan’s still here drinking in the backyard. Puts me on edge, nobody I know can make me lose my temper like he can. I wish I had the strength to control my hate.

I read over some letters this girl I used to be with sent me. She admitted that she was trying to hurt me and that she was sorry. I didn’t respond to her last one. What am I supposed to say to that? I spend so much time trying to balance being honest and not taking any bullshit. Sometimes when you care it’s impossible to see the bullshit. Invisible shit. Until it’s so bad that all you can do is stand completely empty and used wondering why you ever try to be honest or why you ever came out of yourself and tried to care. You screw your face up hold all the hate down all of the pain and confusion and you walk away not even sure if you should leave, feeling like a wuss for not destroying them back. Feel like a monster cause you can’t hurt them like they hurt you. And that’s how they burn you, you see yourself in the mirror and your face looks older, your heart feels tired and you really are finally empty. I’m not happy being so alone all the time, but it’s the closest I can get, it’s the only way to keep myself.

At least I can learn something from all this pain. I learn to stay alone more and more.

4:00 am- December 30 – two thousand and seven

slept in tyler’s bed last night, he goes out a lot and I miss him so I sleep in his room when he’s gone usually. I had a dream about the x-men, I always dream about the x-men in tyler’s room cause it’s full of our old comics and big books on “the marvel world”.

I am listening to “always” it’s a good thing to wake up too. Leyla asked me what was wrong, said I seemed upset. I became frozen and cold immediately, the evil knot in my belly turned glowing death red and I wanted to hide in a cave, invisible to the human eye. Why can’t I talk to the people who are supposed to be my friends? When did I get this evil knot? How long before I can barely speak at all anymore? The only people I am good at seeing anymore are people I barely know, they don’t care if I’m lonely or full of sadness. They leave me alone with myself and I get to be who I want with them. “huckleberry” not grant. I heard leyla talking about this friend of hers who is using her as a crutch, he relies on her for friendship and company all the time, made me scared of calling her. I never call anyone unless I need them. I’ll be doing less of that anyway. I don’t want a crutch or a back up plan. I want to actually feel someone.

Chris called me, he is having a hard time, it sucks so bad to see life handing someone like Chris more shit, it’s a good reminder that you can always get another beating, no matter what you’ve done. I wish I could do something more to help him than stupid words.

The girl who hurt me wrote me more stuff. I told her to stop writing. I have nothing to say to her.

I can hear music coming out of the shed where les is still living, it sounds heroic and wild, it reminds of the crystal palace in fantasia before it gets destroyed. I wish I lived in fantasia.

Ive lost track of the days, I levitate through weeks and months, the only thing that reminds me of what time it is or day is when somebody calls me to make a plan. I cut my hair off today, it’s short and patchy again.

2:06 pm- December 31 – two thousand and seven

tyler went out again last night, slept in his bed again, I watched the sky clear out and get light at about 5 in the morning, I tried to focus and read “something wicked this way comes” by ray Bradbury, couldn’t focus at all, the light looked too good coming through my brother’s window. I thought about injun spirits with bright coloured powers and I thought about the woods in Nashville.

Leyla sent me a letter today, she seems angry and disappointed at me for not feeling close anymore. I don’t know what to say to her, I tried to explain myself but I probably fucked it all up, my letters always say the wrong things. I spend most of my life growing up in hospital where I was alone then I start to tour where I am alone and then they get angry at me for feeling alone. Leyla says I have lost my “shineyness” that really busted me up, cause I can see it too. Now listening to akron family and it’s the song me and leyla broke up to. This was probably 15 months ago now. Maybe more. Funny to think about how things have changed.

I drew all day today, tried to draw the injun spirits with bright powers and wolf’s head, but I don’t know if it does any real respect to the thoughts I had about it.

6:57 pm- January 2 – two thousand and eight

I haven’t written anything for some days now, a lot has happened. The other night I started drinking on the train and when I got off I went and explored on the tracks. I climbed little dirt mounds and treated them like craggy mountains. I finished what I had later at jess’ house and we all went out to a huge party in a public park, maybe two or three hundred people. I find somebody and I buy some acid, I give him half of what he asks. Later I found a piece of broken plastic with a handle on it and I grab the handle and take my shirt off and I hide behind my invincibility shield. Some creep is asking if he can kiss jess’ feet and I hate him so I start to push him trying to fight him and he just ruffles my hair and tells me I look like a gay harry potter. Somewhere around this time a girl grabs me and asks me if I want to see a video of her fucking wil anderson and I say yes so she shows me and it’s true, the video scares me so bad I let out running and climb some monkey bars, from here I can see everyone and I can control everything and suddenly I feel a great rumble and roar and thousands of bisons tear threw the crowd goreing and killing everyone and everybody is just ghosts for the rest of the night. The death hate pyramid is on the skyline for the next 7 hours.

I feel good that I started drawing and writing with intention and drive, the drawing and the writing was like the music, once I decided what I had to work with was good enough everything happened at once. I’m glad I found the guts, I can’t imagine doing anything else. If I’m gonna find a way to live like this I have to do everything I can.

I tried to talk to leyla tonight. When I open my mouth bullshit comes out, when I try and speak to people it’s all just worthless crap. I wish I could stop myself from speaking. Violent frustration. I tried to tell her something, just something, but I am starting to understand the kind of monster I’m becoming. I scare the hell out of myself. Being alone so much is pain, but it’s so pure. I am only my soul right now, nothing else matters. It’s so powerful to be alone. I have so much magic power when I am alone. I get loose like an onery beast and I am alone and beautiful in my alone-ness. Right now alone in my room where it’s dark and quiet and mine I feel close to a great spirit. And I have to wonder if it’s fake, I feel everything now. How can this be fake?

9:36 pm- January 3- two thousand and eight

a while ago i let out to the beach with jess and james for about a day and few. We stayed in jess’ sister’s house. It was only hours after the acid had started to calm down on me and I stood on the second floor of their house where everything was completely white and clean, the carpet was rough under my toes and instead of a wall they had a monster window and I looked out at the ocean and saw above it my death hate pyramid. I told jess and james about it and we all took deep breathes. I love them both more than I can figure out how to tell them. I act like a fool around james though cause I get so nervous, he has a way about him that makes me question my own self. That’s good and important. I need people in my life who make me see myself. Before we left on the second day we took to the beach and I started saying some dumb jabber about my death hate pyramid and how I wanted to paint and sell it for a billion dollars in a new york gallery and have kim Gordon blow me and jess turned at me and said “you just don’t have enough time to do everything.” And she seemed to mean that the way I thought. Made me sad and the whole beach seemed longer and lonely. I don’t want to die most of the time, I wish I could see it all now.

I spent all of today with tyler except a few hours making things alone. I love being a round him, even when we are bitching at eachother. He is my brother and I feel that easily, like there are two fireball’s inside of us (like in the middle of the world) and they both know eachother and don’t care what happens as long as we gravitate around eachother. It’s good to have that. I don’t have to say any shit around him. That’s something to care for.

I think me and leyla have had a falling out, I can’t tell. I guess we’ll see. Spirit of solitude. I am just trying to stand it and stay quiet. Better if I don’t run my mouth anymore unless I need too.

I thought about the california mountains today. A while ago a wonderful girl wrote me and told me I could come and stay as long as I pleased, when mom got sick I dropped out of the writing and I haven’t spoken to her since, but I go to them a lot in my head. They usually get filled with snow near the top and have many bearcub friends hiding around in them. Sometimes in my “visions” when I get to the top of the mountain it’s really a volcano.

1.05 am- January 5- two thousand and eight

let out to the park with zac tonight, shoeless in good heat. Felt pent up and stifled, like I had something strangling my heart and keeping me mean, so I got naked in the park and set off walking alone. Zac stayed laying on the ground and studying in the stars. It only took a couple of feet in the darkness until I felt really alone. I looked out at the heavy black monster trees and the inky old light and thought that it could be the whole of the world right now and I’d never know.

I wanna start recording things zac says, he says a lot of good shit but never keeps it. “I look at a piece of paper and it’s pure and well measured and white and un-scratched and somebody could use that to write something important and when I put down my ideas it’s just shit, all I see is shit. The paper is ruined to shit.”

3:41 a.m. January 7 – two thousand and eight

I started a “book of invincible awesomeness” tonight. If I make enough of these books I might be able to really make something cool. I stayed at zac’s house last night and listened to braddock’s stories and we went walking at about one in the morning for a few hours, zac has sensitive feet, so we didn’t get to explore the mud and gravel parts of Richmond. And he wouldn’t go near the river cause he was afraid of rats. There was an asian karaoke exploding on our way out, but when we came back it was quiet like a ghost building.

Since then I have been in one of those funny ways I get into where I am always half way dreaming and always halfway awake and I can see the death hate pyramid and the cartoon dogs and high mountains in the corners of my eyes all the time and I have eerie half dreams if I stay in the same position for too long. It’s always been like that for me except the things I see change. Laying on the couch earlier I dreamnt somebody tickled my toes, when I woke up it was eve standing and smiling at me, I go from one end of the couch to the other like a lightning bolt and grab her waist, I hold her with more strength than I can ever recall having and suddenly I’m alone again and it’s like she was a fog. I see this all the time, I become electrified and invincible for a few seconds and then I am back in my tired, dying body when I realise it was just a dream. I go back to the world and sit alone.

In the next few days I am supposed to put together some diaries from touring with simon. I hope I don’t fuck them up. Emma songdahl is going to print them in “woman's monthly”. I love emma.

It seems like time is tearing me apart. I think about death and the supernatural everyday, a billion times in a row and I scare myself into all this stupid work and solitude.

23rd or 24th or something january 4:21 am two thousand and eight

it’s been a bad night for me. Thought about my disease a lot, I keep waiting for the 17 heads and the fireball breath and the hate lasers so I can really get down and fight for my life, but it’s always some spooky scientific mystery and I can’t get my hands on it, I can’t kill it or become it, I just sit here and let it get me. Damn.

I lost a closeness, somebody I love has left me in a way, it’s made me harder inside again. I don’t know what to do. Everybody leaves and it looks like it won’t be long before I leave them for good too. I wanna find her and I want to show her that the way I love her is the greatest damn thing I could ever manage to hold on too, but I already tried that and all I could do was lose it and all she could do was leave. And it was fair. How could anyone stay with me? I’m a damned mess in every way. I’m making her tapes and pictures and little books. I just can’t turn away from her.

If I had any guts I’d kill myself right now. Beat my illness to it and forget all this waiting and pain. There isn’t much to hold onto, being alive is a mystery of horror and strangeness and unexplainable joy sometimes, but there is nothing to hold me here.

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