Friday, March 21, 2008

what the eff

march. in like a lion, out like a bigger lion, with surgically implanted stainless steel super-teeth and a mane made out of razor blades. why the fuck is it snowing right now??? this is so gay. isn't easter like tomorrow? i don't remember seeing any snow in all the pictures of lazarus raising jesus from the dead that i sit around staring at in my free time. or wait it was jesus that raised lazarus from the dead, i just looked it up on wikipedia for posterity. never mind. god, i guess all kinds of people used to rise from the dead, why the fuck doesn't that ever happen anymore? god hates us, that's why. first he won't raise our modern dead and then he makes it snow in march.

i guess i will talk about all of the things that are pissing me off right now. i had to go to a funeral last week and the whole time i was ready for this lady i hate to show up so i could tell her to get the fuck out of my face. i have seriously hated this lady since i was three years old and she told me i was going to die one day. then she majorly fucked over the guy whose funeral it was so i decided she better not show up there or i was going to tell her to go fuck off. i couldn't decide if i should just tell her to get the fuck away from me and leave it at that or if i should add on something about how she was going to die one day too and nobody in the world was going to care. god, that is one of those horrible insults that really confirms a person's own deepest fears. that shit would probably haunt her for the rest of her days. she would think of me on her deathbed. anyway, the stupid whore didn't even show up. what the eff! that was supposed to be my finest moment. protecting my family from the worst person in the world. she probably didn't show up because she tried calling my dad that day and he hung up on her.

i am pissed off at my brother right now also because i have called him every day for three days and he is not calling me back. if someone you love committs suicide is it normal to be scared everybody else you know is also going to commit suicide? haha i just said i loved someone. don't get used to it. what a fucking sham. you know how love is supposed to make the world go round? well, it turns out it can't even make people not shoot themselves in their heads. i always knew love was a waste of my time. also i'm not even allowing myself to be pissed off at my brother for not calling me back and making me think he committed suicide because if he really did commit suicide i would feel bad for being mad.

that is the curse of consciousness. i seriously wish i did not have the capacity to think about what my future thoughts might be regarding the thoughts i am currently having. that is like an intellectual ourbouro.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

that's what she said

yesterday i cut my hair and bleached it. they have now invented shit you can buy that will bleach your hair in ten minutes you guys. thank god, i think i will cure aids during the 40 minutes i just saved, or maybe i will have a staring contest with my dog. the problem with cutting your own hair is that it is pretty much a given that you are going to fuck up the back of your head. i am solving that problem by never looking at the back of my head.

i don't even care how stupid my hair looks, i hate paying people money to do shit i can do myself. god, i was watching the office one time and dwight said pretty much the exact same thing. it's okay, i'm not scared to admit that i am kindred spirits with dwight from the office. sometimes when i watch it by myself i talk to him. is it okay that i think fake people on tv are my friends?

tv is something else i won't pay money for because, seriously, tv? i can do that shit myself. i have whole conversations with myself that are way funnier than anything on tv.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

decimation. gun in your mouth. talk.

the curtian comes up on a man and a little girl, ice skating. she flings her arms above her head and he hoists her up by her wrists and slings her over his shoulders. he: flies around the pond once, twice, tossing her into a snowbank. she: erupts into a cacophony of laughter and asthma. 'again!' she shreiks. flying. 'this time pretend i'm carrying you. scott! i'm carrying you!'

twenty years later you're on your knees on damp shag carpeting, dry mouthed and choking, blood on your hands while you try to pick a piece of his skull to put in your pocket.

scott! i'm carrying you!

i didn't check the mail for ten days. scared there would be a letter. certain there would be a letter. desperate that there would be a letter. i checked the mail today. how could you fucking do this to me.

Thursday, March 06, 2008

okay so i finished the bell jar

i had to finish it today because it drives me insane to read two books at the same time and if i went insane WHILE reading the bell jar, oh my god, i would be such a loser.

i am letting you know i am going to sum up the bell jar now so if you haven't read it yet stop reading this before i spoil it for you.

1. the first third of this book is an in general waste of time, the heroine attends all these dazzling events or whatever and basically feels blase about everything.

2. this douchebag tries to rape her.

3. she goes insane like right after that. she throws all her clothes out of the window and spends the rest of the book wearing the same outfit and not taking a shower.

4. she thinks about killing herself for like 60 pages but doesn't do it. this part drove me insane because it was boring and even though i knew she was not actually going to die i was still hoping she would. you know that poem, also by sylvia plath, about how all suicide methods are worthless? razors pain you rivers are damp acids stain you drugs cause cramps guns aren't lawful nooses give gas smells awful might as well live? i think i'm going to rip those 60 pages out of the book and staple that poem in there so the next person who reads it doesn't have to waste all that time getting the point. the point being that seriously depressed people are too apathetic to even end their own lives. i wonder if i should become a murderous psychiatrist and start euthenizing all those types. it is annoying enough that they exist, why do they all think they should be writing books?

5. she finally takes a bunch of pills but she doesn't even die.

6. then she goes to a bunch of different doctors and thinks about how shitty everything in the world is, this is like sixty more pages.

7. here is where the book takes a turn for the even worse. SHE DISCOVERS BIRTH CONTROL, BECOMES A SLUT, AND SUDDENLY IS NO LONGER MENTALLY ILL. what the eff.

if i knew i was signing on to read a book about a girl going crazy because the patriarchy is keeping her down i would have just read the yellow wall paper again.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

i am reading two books right now

i never read two books at the same time, except i stupidly left the first book i was reading at work, luckily i had two other books in my bag because i am such a loser that i carry multiple books on me at all times so when i inevitably become horribly bored with whatever stupid situation i am in i will at least be able to console myself by reading in public like a true fucking loser.

so that is why i am reading the bell jar and underworld right now. underworld is boring as hell and as far as i can tell it is not even about anything but fuck it is so pretty. if anybody brings it up later i will probably lie and pretend i was kidding when i told you this, but i cry like every four pages just because it is so goddamn pretty. and i'm in public. crying in my book. and i don't even know what i'm crying about because i don't even think this book has a plot.

i really want to like the bell jar because it is written by a woman, and i am dying to disprove my thesis that women can't write. well, they can't. maybe they are not self indulgent enough. i am only on like page 60 but i do not think this book is going to be the one that changes my sexist mind. i mean i'm enjoying it, but i'm not going to lie, i also enjoy reading vc andrews novels, and the backs of shampoo bottles. this book reminds me of catcher in the rye. supposedly smart literature for people who are not smart enough to read actual smart literature. i guess i should have read it when i was 14 and it probably could have changed my life. OH MY GOD IT IS LIKE THIS BOOK IS SPEAKING TO ME.

i probably shouldn't have said catcher in the rye wasn't smart, i guess now somebody is probably going to yell at me. anyway i really hope this book is going to get way better because it is making me lose my faith in whoever is in charge of defining classic literature. seriously, i feel like i am reading fiction from the back of sassy magazine. remember sassy magazine? i know the editors of sassy magazine loved the bell jar. it was their manifesto.

i guess this is what i get for cheating on underworld. god, that book is amazing. it breaks my heart to see words placed in such beautiful order. yesterday while i was reading i could actually smell the setting. like i had to stop reading and sit there and breathe really hard four or five times to figure out what was going on. like am i having a stroke or is this book actually that magnificently written, that it is causing my brain to produce olfactory hallucinations? of course i started crying.

i am going to go finish reading the bell jar now, i will let you know what happens.
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