Under The Bridge

Listened a bit more intently to Symphony X. I have three albums so far, but didn't give them much minding, therefore it was strange for me to realize that i actually know these melodies very well. And then i understood where do i know them from. Oh damn. So deep it's almost subconscious.

Sometimes i wish for the smell i've forgotten. Almost a physical need.

Half past nine, Friday evening. These two are in my v-space, but i'd love to have them closer.

It just came to my mind..."you returned, like poor Levi Matthew, but you returned too late..."

In the end, everyone turn back, everyone agree, but it's too late, dead.

So, you're saying i shouldn't get repetitive in my art? Little hypocrite...or you're in denial that in that way or another, the art, the air, the creed, deal with the same thing? It quite reminds me of some Ido conversation, about pointless, themeless posts, which made me think that none of my posts has any theme whatsoever, but the situation's way worse, because this whole journal, since 05, has only one theme really.

I do not deviate from it, only allegorize, sometimes. But since nobody know, i'll keep pretending it's all blatantly themeless :)

Changing of mathematical symbols? The day was pretty shitty by itself, but Murphy kept a day of celebration on the weekend for me. Meat, and general joy. Almost no nuisances that time. Leaves a sweet afterglow.

I've been dreaming some pretty bizzare shit, which won't be wholly shared here, as i'm being lazy, but as highlights i can mention two moments. One was sharing jelly sweets from a plastic bag with the world's leaders, for the greater glory of my country [ it really felt that i'm doing something extremely important, helping to establish sounder international relations and whatnot, must be a result of listening to too much news]. The other one is me drowning in plasteline and fighting for my life and sanity with some shapeless plasteline monster while everything is lit by mad orange deadlights. That's probably a result of me watching little Yael vs. the playdough. And the overall feeling of deep horror is thanks to aulde Howard.

Yep, i'm now finishing a compilation of Lovecraft's stories, those he wrote without co-authors. Probably i should've done that earlier in life, but there you are. Now i'm a fully qualified goth kid [not]. Still, a Cthulu plushie wouldn't be out of order ;).

His writing style sometumes reminds me of 1001 nights, weird arabian yarn, but that's only some of them. Others aren't..and they are simply awesome. Readymade horror scenarios with a plot and a backgound, it's a wonder so few movies have been made after them. I loved Bleeders, by the way. Even my mom did. Reviews agree that it's not even worth the electricity, but since when i give a fuck about reviews? :)

So, another great writer into my pantheon. A raving mad one. Who could wish for more?:)

There's something i wrote on some other site that i feel needs to appear here too, so i'll quote myself, lol. Free hate!

"I suggest the experiment of trying to an average of 10 bombs a day on holy USA and see whether it'll engage in a Third World War with the offender. My bet it will. I can even bet my life, it costs less than nil here anyway. So, why is the big brother watching and doesn't let us play it's war game too? We can't play alone, apparently, and especially not this year when all these agricultural proceeds curled up and died - so withstanding any financial sanctions would be less possible than ever.
So, keep voting ultra-left and burying your children.
I need to get the fuck out of here. Fast.
Napalm on their goddamned fanatical heads."

There's quite a lot of n00 m00sic - eMule was being uncharacteristically kind. The majority of it is Paradise Lost, six albums of gloomy goodness, classical doom metal, exceptionally easy to listen to. This genre is usually easy, but this time it's even better than Katatonia.

Also, Edguy. These clowns make me smile.

Tristania, Green Day, Demons&Wizards and Aina, reviews coming next. Maybe.

I go through so many phases until i put up an entry that it loses all point. Well, I'll think of something smart next time. Cthulhu's calling...gotta dive.

 For the last 24 hours I've had this weird craving to hear WT's last album. Echoes of the primal scream, pain less adorned than others. And I didn't even like it in particular until now. But that voice in the void...

Maybe I'm terribly delayed, but hey, does this album interlink with the da vinci code somehow?

Sylvester night of mine was pretty hrmph, and would be even hrmphier if not for Ido, who kindly agreed to spend it with me. Not that we've done something amazingly exciting, but what we did was good excersize, we got to see the mighty king of Ashur, it was funny enough, and anyway, life can't be too bad when i get to see Ido twice on the same week. I love that effect he has on me, almost everywhere. The effect of home, something that i don't feel a lot. And pizza was nice, too. And VH1's absolutely gay videos.

The show is going through many twists but right now it's somewhat ok. Altough being bored means i'm on the right way, i can amuse myself at times. When i'll get sick of the game - well, i know that for the very least i will come to him and talk. And he'll listen, because by then i'll have less than nothing to lose.

I sometimes wish she was here with me. That wish, however, fades fast, because i know less than zero about the case, no matter how alluring it may look in moments of distress. I sence cruelty entwined in a great mind, it's always like that, but who cares, i adore what i see.

What am i playing at? Truth nas no language, and according to Lou, there's no truth in any case, not something we can accept.

Lou is the voice of strange hours, early in the morning or late at night, because we're eight hours apart, but it's worth all the insomnia because he listens to weirdest stuff, and what goes on in his head is equally weird.

The last encounter was completely weird. Not that they're ever coming out normal, but this one begged to differ by the amount of pure joy, laughter, and this horrible, lulling comraderie. I was having the time of my life, seriously. Didn't waste time thinking about the twists, just...myself to the core, as with the only person i only ever were myself. The game went fine, not without it's own macabrities, but who cares about the game really...the setting wasn't the easiest, but i couldn't concentrate, and anyway, words cannot set that one right. How many months of madness pay for one hour of mindless bliss?

Didn't expect you to fall this time, child. But it's not that important, not too much. Love you anyway.

Hope the language transfer bothers nobody. As nobody really reads it. And if you do - well, mayhaps it's time to improve your goddamn english. They say it good for the psychometry. I feel too bad, and hebrew only adds insult to injury. And occupies way too much space. So, bear with it. Carebear with it. I don't care.

How can you just walk away from me,
When all i can do is watch you leave
Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears
You're the only one who really knew me at all

So take a look at me now, oh there's just an empty space
And there's nothing left here to remind me,
Just the memory of your face
Take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space
And you coming back to me is against all odds

And that's what i've got to face