Tag Archives: scary

i am satisfied

3 Feb

I had a huge lovely post written, but I did something and inadvertently deleted it all. Here, I’ll try again.

Did some midnight drabbles last night, here are all the ones I can feasibly decipher.
a diaphonous meniscus of terribleturtle dreams under an unfortunate derivation class. It is not their birthday but we will celebrate it anyway; you were part of another kingdom of wonders and well other things, I suppose. Death/pain is like the sound a piece of sheet metal makes, like a twanky twan monday besides my ballon well our hearts importants things and how are we going to pay to motley crüe umlaut.

Been having loud, rolling sweeping thoughts lately; thoughts that make me want to scream my discoveries to the heavens. I blame these sort of on the rolling lovely sweetness of the music I’ve been listening to, as well as the inherent mind-twisting properties of psychadelic music (even without drugs, it is a trip all of its own). I am imagining triumphant glowing landscapes. I am thinking of mortality, and even beyond that, the questions of beyond the grave.
It’s when I start thinking about that sort of thing that I start to feel very small, very organic: more a part of the macrocosm. We are, really, all marvels of biological engineering- how are we able to think? Chemical reactions. All we are, all we ever will be, is limited by the simplest compounds, the simplest ratios.
Oh, to anyone who wonders.

There’s also something that makes me cry about all this nonsense, all these chemicals rioting inside my brain. How does it all work? What, in essence, are we?
Is there such thing as a soul?

Well, hell if I know. But I’d like to be one of the first to find out.

Yo soy una extraña en esta lugar sin tí.

(I am a stranger in this place without you.)

arguments over small rodents

25 Dec

House Of Leaves has mind-raped me to within a few inches of my sanity. I suppose I should attempt to take breaks between chapters, but dang this book sucks you in and doesn’t let go. It is very well written, but mindfucks in the worst way. I will never look at mysterious doors the same way.
Not that I see many mysterious doors, but-
What most freaked me out wasn’t the sheer size of the chambers inside the house, but how they randomly grow and shrink and trap you and drive you to madness. Also, when they’re escaping the house and Tom dies- the description of his hands, crushed and skinned to the bone- terrified me. I do not like hand-related gore. Other gore, fine. Hand-or-face related gore, oh god almighty.
I guess I’m gonna have to finish this book soon, but daaamn terrifying.

Especially some of the footnotes, after a while, when Johnny’s starting to lose it. He’s scary to me because he reminds me of myself- same sort of apathetic attitude (and no, I am not a tattoo apprentice who smokes weed and does ecstasy on a regular basis. Nor do I participate in one-night stands.)

So, besides House Of Leaves, my momma is sick and has taken Sudafed. I warned her she’d be drowsy. She is. Extremely so.

Also, I am planning on doing cool and awesome things over the next few days. Like putting my new journal to use as a bedside dreamcompanion/midnight drabble journal.

Goodnight all. Have a terrific boxing day. I hope you have less nightmares than I will tonight.