I started getting annoyed at House of Leaves because Mark Z. Danielewski keeps making me abandon the story to flip through the entire book to something that I don't feel like reading. So I went to the bookstore looking for an interesting little poetry book titled The Container Store; to no surprise they didn't have it, but they did have The Silmarillion, which is much longer and will take a lot more time to finish. But that's nice because I like Tolkien. His works really appealed to me when I was younger and more open-minded, so they help me return to that mindset now.
I know I'm sort of clogging this place, but things are going well. Besides the crushing migraine, aching eyes, relentless cough, distressed throat, and periodic nausea. Other than that, I'm fine.
You-know-who was happy to see me after the break (and produced a very large smile upon seeing me near), and we ended up talking for longer than we should have (or at least longer than the school would have wanted). I was very late to class, but that teacher doesn't give a fuck about anything so it doesn't matter.
My head is a pulsating void. All I can hear is this ringing and the sound of my heart beat, driving me insane. I'm in inescapable pain and I am helpless and immobile. My throat is burnt to soot and dry. I'm slowly learning to walk again.
So I had to take the day off of school. This was not a fun weekend. At least it isn't as bad as it was yesterday.
Today was a fucking good day! I'm actually really happy, and I think you can guess why. I had a really good conversation, nearly five full minutes in length (which is a lot for how it's been going), plus two shorter ones. It almost felt like the good old days. He started out really quiet and just unusual for some reason, and then by the end of the day, he had gradually shifted back to the state he usually is around me, so that was really weird.
We trusted it
We did so foolishly—together
The generosity of the perfect machine is endless
Strange that with our colors
We believed what the monster could do
How we would stare at that smooth gate
Awaiting the ability
The moment of unity
When we could unhinge the door to golden perfection
And be blinded of the sight we would no longer need
And carelessly drift deep into that blue-gray abyss
Without watching that which had no cause
Its lack of purpose fueled our return
The lift from the shining gray pool
In which we would blissfully fill our lungs
Please be more active, Oasies. I'm feeling lonely right now with the lack of multiplicity in people offering help. The site's just down to elph and me now. When I need your guidance the most, you abandon me.
_ -||^ - -
My strategy of trying to find spots in the hall for conversation is not working, since I haven't spoken to the OG since Monday. So I'm going to need to find something else. I just don't know what. And I'm getting lost, and worried that the only person I can actually be around without being reminded of the flaws in humanity is vanishing. I'm lonely and my misanthropy is growing. Swans is helping a bit, for now.
Coat your precious surfaces in soft and special patchworks
Burn the flaws from your neatly tailored strings
When the patrons are absent you will be the unseen expert
Asking no reception from those adjacent
Concealing the ultimate quality
The blessed borders
Which decant their holy manna to only
The warm and woven druid
The lost adherent
The man must have seen that I was having fun in PE, moving around and talking to you-know-who. So he decided to move me to the opposite end of the school from him and make me sit the whole period in a fucking boring, pointless class that only does the opposite of what it supposedly exists to do. How fun.
the empty abyss
crushing the skulls of its ancestors
the DEAD remnants
the only memories
destroying the past
severing pieces of its flesh
so it can continue
the MINOTAUR of the infinite
at the bones of TIME
its madness fueled
as the walls of this DEATH CHAMBER
this birth tomb
are cut down
offers no understanding
the dead march cannot be severed from existence
time has lost meaning
the indestructible abomination
the golem of pain
School is closed tomorrow, too, for fucking nothing. The universe saw that this weekend was at a time that made me really unhappy, and that it was dragging by slowly, so it just had to take to opportunity and turn the four-day weekend into a six-day weekend, at least. I really hope Bratwurst Day is open, because I can't take this any more.
I went to DC with my family to the 9:30 Club and saw Godspeed You! Black Emperor play a show. Afterwards, I heard of another one being played up north, at some large, fictional city beginning with an A (located a bit north of where Baltimore is in real life). I left my family in secret and began a voyage on foot to the next show.
Regarding a topic mentioned in my last journal that seems to have been overlooked:
I'd appreciate it if someone would help me out a bit to get through the weekend. No more class with this guy would be a pretty big deal, so I'm not doing too well right now. There's just been a discomfort following my mood even when my mind's off of the subject, and it's making me feel like shit.
Everybody else is seeing Pat the Bunny and Matt Pless in concert in Baltimore, and I stay at home napping and being unhappy all day. This four-day weekend is going to be boring. Nobody showed up at lunch today, so I had to spend the period in the woods, getting muddy and exploring my mind. Today was the last day of PE, my favorite class, so I get to start listening to bullshit in health and I don't get a period to wake me up in the morning any more, so that's fun.
I've already PM'd with someone regarding this, and mentioned it too implicitly in some of the poems I've posted, but it's at the point at which I feel I need to be explicit about it.