Satan's Fudge Tunnel

(make me bleed)

Subject:	just stay home and masturbate
Time:	11:02 am.
Mood:	discontent.

Is this what I wanted?

An ex-girlfriend of mine whom I'd been avoiding for the past three years called me the other night. Now she's married and has a kid. Guess what I'm gonna do...
well, not really... I just feel it's going to be like that since she was so deeply infatuated. she claims to be thinking of me almost all the time... i just hope it's not when they're making meat sandwiches cuz I'd imagine he has a horrible stench... that's not good...
I was thoughtless enough to agree to take her to a big event... later, i realized i would probably encounter many other persons i knew and i would feel uncomfortable.... thank zoop that her husband acquiesced and will be taking her...
as a result of this unexpected agreement, she wants to meet later tonight, but i'm thinking of ditching... for now...
I really wish somebody would discourage me from doing it, but everyone is so fucking supportive.

I'm supposed to try with a different girl tomorrow, but I don't really mind the outcome. I feel the more I want something, the less likely I'll get it.
I'm avoiding the one on Wednesdays for two of the several stupid reasons I avoid females... both should be obvious if you really know me, which I'm sure you don't. It's a good thing, actually.

In addition to this, a girl from E asked me to see her new place. It's such a long drive... I don't really fucking care...

I think that chasing any of these will get me into more trouble than I'd like to have right now... but i had the misfortune of coming close... the actual encounter before doesn't count... but, I can't get it out of my head... I HATE STRIP BARS! ~ if it wasn't for that, maybe i wouldn't be so... bah!

and, as always...
The more you ignore me, the closer I get...

i hate having things to do. i like having things to do.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	megh
Time:	12:53 pm.
Mood:	bored.

I have a chance to meet Bone Thugs N Harmony next Saturday. Question is, do I really give a fuck if I do?
If I get too much of something, I get bored with it. This may explain my inability to get addicted to anything.
That's why ONSs appeal to me... there's something in the spontaneity and immediate truncation of it that forces me to appreciate it. I will never be clean again.
My head hurts and it forces my eyes closed. Close up on my dry knuckles, red with white veins of crispy skin... a mouth, a splintered wooden stick jutting out like a cock, her tears moistening it, black grease around her lips chapped and peeled... a Korean girl with teardrop eyes smiling white teeth behind red lips, pale skin, scent of stale almonds and overripe peaches; the sex smells like wet paper and tastes like ground cinnamon and citrus; her eyes are brown and dry and reddening... darkness is cold and loneliness is colder and i can't stand the heat... my candybar is made with frozen semen... my eyes sting with no sleep... they stare at me because I have nowhere to go and am alone... they wonder just how much sanity has escaped when i attempt to turn invisible by stripping myself down to the bone, chunks of flesh like soggy toast on the floor... my only meal is the lies i swallow... i vomit truth and it hurts my throat...
and now, someone turns on the light and bodies enter the room and i am again confronted with humanity.
i hate this place.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	My Electricock Kills Brain Cells
Time:	4:24 am.
Mood:	anxious.

Ahh... it seemed like things were going to get difficult. There's so much shit going on... eh, the best thing to do is ignore everything and lose myself in any labyrinth I find.
I don't think things have been this bad in a while... I mean, two is understandable.... but three?! Who the fuck do I think I am?
And then the few others I don't really care to, but insinuate anyway... but it's understood and all in phun.
It's not that it bothers me. It's just that I'd like to be certain for once when I'm faced with this kind of decision.
I'm just letting the southern martians seize my brain. Images of volcanos bring me discomfort and eagerness... or is it anxiety?
F sez I'll get rid of these disturbing thoughts once Saturday comes. If I get down to it (now I'm thinking S) I'm not going to want to travel to Austin... or maybe... nah... too soon.

I'm debating whether I should go to SS tonight... there's a slight possibility of running into S.
V asks for me and I could definitely find her tonight...
V2 is a little reclusive... sometimes V2 disappears for nights at a time... V2 is already lost...
So in this mental competition, the winner is the loser.
Maybe another's trust will be turned to shit.

O, how I wish it was Tuesday or Saturnight or Frinight. Alas... early Friday morning with many restless hours inbetween...
But, the longer they stay away, the more difficult it is for me.
May they stay away until it's too late.

Be my bubblegum.
Don't swallow.

Today feels wrong already.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	ooompaaa
Time:	5:16 am.
Mood:	drunk.

Broken in two.
88 keys and every note sounds wrong.
Unavoidable impossibilities...

Well, when life throws you lemons, you get yourself a girl with lemon-scented hair,
the color slightly duller, but still emanating
the sour sensation.
As they coil downward in a neverending spiral, I begin to wonder
if she'll remember the night, the things she spoke,
the things she wrote on my back with her tongue.

But I understand everything is meaningless,
and I know her memory is fleeting, or
still pasted is the image of my head between...
There's no use in complaining;
she got everything she wanted from me.
So it's only out of courtesy
that she gave me what I desired.

Her mind, her senses detached from her figure,
she has lost the ability to complain,
and I get to have my way with her
and her tongue, motionless, doesn't complain.
Her lips pasted on her pale face in a twisted arrangement,
her body free for me to take.

And there's no complaint,
no numbers left for either of us,
nothing to worry about for ever.

(1 bloody penetration )§( make me bleed)

Subject:	FIST
Time:	11:52 pm.
Mood:	eyes itch!.

I AM SO SMART! I AM SO SMART! S-M-R-T!

That speech instructor-bitch gave me the wrong fucking grade. All As, bitch!

4/5 of my classes are kick-ass, two of them only because the instructors like me. The 1/5 is yet to be evaluated.
I have acquaintances in every class, so I guess that's alright. One of my instructors is completely psychotic and bald.

I bought another computer for no reasonable reason, and now I figure I should get a fucking job. Unless you, dear reader, are charitable enough to donate cash. Jenny Alvo, I'm cyber-looking at you!

My birfday is cumming. I will likely have a private party; I will not invite a single person. A much better party is in the works for the Friday after, or maybe this weekend, fuck if I know!

Frughleancheit!

(make me bleed)

Subject:	garlic spaghetti
Time:	9:23 pm.
Mood:	blegh.

My mum discovered how to keep me home: fresh brownies.
Finally organized my computer files and found no less than 93 stories, 200 poems, and thousands of fragments that span about eight years. Also, about two incomplete novels. I'm giving serious thought on deleting the whole mess and starting out with a blank slate. Either way, it won't matter much.
I'm afraid to look through my stack of notebooks.

I dug up Disgaea and started leveling up my characters. Addicting as hell, and it has a high probability of pissing me off. Never got around to picking up Katamari... might as well wait till it comes out on the PSP.

I'm getting insomnia again. It might be from doing nothing but reading, writing, watching movies, and playing video games. I went outside yesterday for the first time in weeks only to have three punks try to make off with my bike while I was talking shit with the neighbors. I feel I should've kept going, maybe taking one down... but then I wouldn't want any retaliation. Chasing them off was enough. I mean, I just got my damn car back from the shop. Now I'm a hero to a little fat boy's parents.
It might also be from the many pills I've been taking. My piss has never been a brighter yellow.

Maybe I can get some sleep once school starts. I dropped the existentialist class and took up a writing class. I can finish by May if I wanted to.

Two weeks and two years.

(2 bloody penetrations )§( make me bleed)

Subject:	orgodemir
Time:	2:05 am.
Mood:	nauseated.

I'll be turning 21 soon. Some of my friends want the works: liquor, beer, coke, weed, sluts, loud noise. Then there are those who respect my wishes. I don't want to do a damn thing on that day. These motherfuckers think that kinda stuff brings me jubilance or whatever... in my head, i'm planning an escape... nobody will find me from the 20th through the 26th... i need to find somebody who doesn't know what day i was born on, which should be easy once school starts up again...
I just haven't had the energy to do anything these past few weeks. I know that the first week off, I started writing five different stories; i haven't looked at them since then, or even thought about them until now. I remember i bought a book with the intention of enjoying it, but it's been several days since i even looked at its pages. Just not feeling it anymore... can't remember the last time i did.
Maybe in two years I'll begin feeling.

I have, however, rearranged my room a bit, but it seems to have gotten more cluttered. I'm coming off an addiction to Animal Crossing: Wild World with Dragon Quest VIII.
I have considered becoming more physically active... I'm gonna change my diet and everything. Hell, I just might become religious while I'm at it.

And of all the beautiful lyrics i've heard in my life, I can only think of: If I could scatter children...

even if the pigeon flies away cloaked in gray, the bullet remains hot, the air failing in cooling,
and the breath thickens

Someday, I'll give up everything I have ever done.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	Nothing for Me
Time:	1:53 am.
Mood:	allergies.

I succeeded in creeping out somebody I met three years ago. I remember too many things. Good memory is a curse. It's also a blessing, but who cares for those anyway?
These kinds of memories are almost never mutual. People know me by name and I can't even recognize their faces. I may have the same face, but it's always changing...
?
It's been so long since I've written a word...
My mind is too engaged with everything everybody talks about...
My mind is engaged with the imagined fears and curiousity of [?]...

I'm getting tired of people and their drugs. The call to let me in on them. I ignore to keep clean.
No reason other than I hate the feeling I get when it's gone...
Just restless... I have enough of that.
My mind wanders even further... but it's always black and narrow.

I would sacrifice all the wrongs I've experienced to be bathed in cleanliness.
Death scrubs off the dirt collected inside.

All the sounds I hear are pathetic. All the songs I hear make me want to do it again.
Or for the first time.
Again.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	Would?
Time:	1:09 pm.
Mood:	i ono...

My day is fucked up... i think.
The computer I claimed to be fucking up started working once I called the tech guy. After I tinkered with the filters, replaced the whole fucking drive, did a whole bunch of other shit, it didn't work. I call and it starts working fine... PIECE OF SHIT!
And the only fucking B i get in school is my only 1000-level class.... how fuct is that?!
I hate doorknobs! Fuck you!
I'm not sure if I'm gonna watch King Kong tonight. I'll know for sure by midnight. Maybe things have changed... y'never know...
or, as HS put it, some people do change then quickly change back;;;
if not, i can just do what i've always wanted to do.... write the great american novel:
Johnny and the Clonosaurus.
damn optical drive is still reading my disc... HATE!
That fucking Doorknob hasn't fucking replied to my angry email! AH! (a)
That ... ah, yeah... my second complaint is the one that really eats me up. Solly, forks.
I hope you all break my hard fall into Hell.
Vietnam, here is my hope. Follow into and through.
But last night was alright....
Out in the cold drinking cold beer, just like the olden days....
Good times, good laughs, a fight or two, all in the spirit of Christ.
Then I forced Chelsea to come and pick me up and take me to Barnes and Noble cuz I didn't have any keys to get inside my house.
And the rest writes itself.
The burger i ate made me sick though... it tasted better on the way up.

(2 bloody penetrations )§( make me bleed)

Subject:	Magic Minute
Time:	1:23 pm.
Mood:	sneaky.

Every time I close my eyes, yes, yes, I see what everybody says
Where's the new design? Where has the inspiration run off to?
The brain has died and the words are stuck beneath a layer of ice
and my body is colder than a dead sun. All I do is steal from...

all of your suffering; all of your pain; all of your pleasures; all of your gain;
all of your losses; all of your pastures; all of your plains; all of your fields;
all of your bodies; all of your joys; all of your countries; all of your flags;
all of your waters; all of your tunnels; all of your worlds; all of your seahorses;
all of your breasts; all of your beasts; all of your dustmotes; all of your colors;
all of your troubles; all of your rains; all of your comets; all of your moons;
all of your birds; all of your rents; all of your marvels; all of your winds;
all of your nothings; all of your everythings; all of your gods; all of your angels;
all of your masters; all of your slaves; all of your islands; all of your waves;
all of your machines; all of your dreams; all of your laws; all of your loves;
all of the dead

Those golden ones wrap aroundandaround, whiteface pressed against
silver glass, fires swimming behind, eyes like a rare beetle's back
and saucerwide, alien, feline, brownyellowgreen and glowing gray,
and the things within start gnawing out like maggots in corpses.

(2 bloody penetrations )§( make me bleed)

Subject:	Let Me See Your Naples
Time:	9:36 pm.
Mood:	drained.

I've got a song in my head.
I've got a girl sleeping on my bed.
And I'm tired, but I have things to do.
And I know I'll sleep, and they won't get done.

Even if I stay up and ignore her, ignore everybody who tries to come into my life in these succeeding several hours, I know I'll find some way to distract myself. Maybe, just maybe I'll start working on something when the daylight breaks and the sense of urgency finally makes itself that much more apparent.

I've showered but I still feel dirty.

Tibet can say anything he wants. Leonard can voice any words he wants.
The hours are passing, the moments are running dry. Devoid of meaning.

If I can spit out some good words, I will have my way.
Hell, it's worked up until now.

(2 bloody penetrations )§( make me bleed)

Subject:	@ skool
Time:	11:45 am.
Mood:	horny, yet powerless.

My single contact takes too long to respond.
One of my semester friends made a comment and I tasted the sarcasm.
I've got a day and a few minutes more to write a single essay, and I choke.
All the ideas are floating. My single contact can bring them down.
Still no response.
Anxious.
17 stab wounds in the back. A number growing in popularity.
I need a response. One side of a binary answer shouldn't take so long to articulate.
Probably gonna get a protracted response that answers nothing, just like the last time.
I've placed my hope on somebody who's so unreliable, I wonder why I ever did.
Must've been the beginning ... the first few times ... as they pass, it grows weaker.
Look out the window because I finally feel the comfortable loneliness. More minds lead to more complications.
The air gets colder and I know tonight I'll shiver. If I get any sleep.
There are anthologies in my mind, but I cannot read them aloud.
The higher you rise, the more insignificant people seem. Can't ground yourself with ants.
1997 was eight years ago. I was 12. 1998 was the year. THE year.
I'm distracted by curls. Every curl is a memory, an image that won't go away.
The most upsetting aspect of these winters: the leaves on trees do not fall.
Nature doesn't die because most of it is already dead.
A shroud of death hangs over the Valley, a Tiger said. Once.

I know my time here is unproductive. This must be written, but I am easily distracted at this, my most vulnerable moment. No response.
But I am getting a free lunch at a hidden price.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	slow progression if there's any at all which part of me doubts
Time:	8:11 pm.
Mood:	distressed.

Today was da kine.
Saturday da kine and I got into a kine. Jacked up, but today I got me a new kine. I got to talk to da kine, but that's about it. We started watching the kine, but we'll probably finish it sometime later this week.

I've gotta lotta kine to do, but I'd rather watch da kine.
My kine's itching like kwazy, but as long as I put da kine on it...

Meh... gotta get da kine.

[annoyin' ain't it?]

(make me bleed)

Subject:	toejam football
Time:	1:45 pm.
Mood:	meh.

Time is slow. Twenty minutes never felt so protracted.
Eyes burning. A cough every now and then. It's leaving.
By the time it's gone, it'll be too late.
This time off is something I wanted to enjoy: drink, stone, wire.
Drink syrup, squeeze drops in my eyes, snort spray, inhale Vicks.
Rub lotion on the skin.
My mum keeps accidentally hitting my tattoo.
Knuckles don't bleed anymore, but the dry feeling's still there.
I feel like bitching someone out. I have a victim in mind, but I'll wait until the night. Maybe midnight.
Would like to leave, but afraid. My body will just give up on me. Die of thirst and delirium.

I remember going to a flea market and hearing a white guy speak in Spanish. He ran a freak show and it featured a two-headed turtle. The way he said it was so funny. It was a fun day. I can't remember who I was with or the season or anything ... just him saying "Oon tore-tooga... doze ka-bay-zuz!"

If I'm hanging from a peach tree then I cut myself down. You'll never see me cuz I'm always alone. There is no motive for this crime. Please stop loving me. I think I've reached that point where giving up and going on are both the same dead end to me. Nothing ever wins my heart. If only you'd never look at me the way that you do; if only you'd never look like that when I look at you. Lying all alone and restless unable to lose this image. I'll kill you for myself. We use them awhile then it's over the shoulder.

I don't know what to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs.

Gone.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	do
Time:	10:11 pm.
Mood:	meoeop.

Tuesday was my last day for this week. A girl praised a story I wrote last semester (was it last semester?), saying that she thought about it out of the blue over the weekend. I was shocked. I wrote it and even I don't remember the damn thing.
But what could I say to that? "I don't remember you being in my class..."
Still, it brought up some confidence. The rest of the day kinda fuckin' sucked. I hadn't slept all night cuz I was worrying about a paper Juan was writing for me ... on my computer.

I was supposed to go to the movies, but I backed down. I blame it on the girl.
Instead, I got another tattoo ... number four. Can't say what or where it is cuz it's a secret.

I woke up sick today. Sore throat and all that jazz. Couldn't sleep cuz of the tattoo and my paranoia. I've been feeling my mind progressively worsening. I'm getting extreme cases of lethologica; I couldn't taste the cheesecake my aunt made; I have a short fucking fuse; every time I cough, my brain jiggles; I see words but I can't read them; I hear things but I can't make sense of them; I think things and then I go blank. I've a lot of shit to do over this goddamn time off ... now is not a time to get sick.

Grizzly Man, a documentary by Werner Herzog, is supposed to be screened at Cine El Rey next month. I'm going, whether or not I'm alone.

The writing on the board is not mine.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	Flat Pussy
Time:	6:02 pm.
Mood:	weird.

Whatta day... who knows where its going?
I guess I can start with last night...

Even though I've known him for almost half my life, I never really shot the shit with Punch Out. We split 32 beers and a single pack of cigarettes. We traveled across parts of McAllen, Pharr, Edinburg, and Alamo. Ended up at several houses with several people doing several kinds of things. I learned that a dark-skinned twin I knew in high school is gay... I think his brother hates him and shit. I learned that a kinda-sorta good friend of mine is in rehab again, for crystal meth this time. I saw his cousin, and he hooked me up with some fat hits. I was feeling icy cold and good with the cloudy weather. Ate some menudo, which I hate, and went to sleep dreaming dreams of today. There was no hominy in that shit... more like tripe stew.

I met up with a friend of mine at school to watch the amazingly boring Rhinoceros. She took her father and step-mother so I felt even more uncomfortable. Despite it, I had an okay time... I was surprised her laughs didn't fuck the actors' shit up. Before the lights went out, I heard my name called and it was Blair....
Cool shizz... she still looks the same; I couldn't imagine her any other way. She's supposed to help me get a Flock of Seagulls hairstyle for the tenth of December...

I'm still wondering what to do about all of this. There are so many things going on... it feels like I need more time.... instead of typing this, I should be typing that...

Juan hasn't called about the work.... if he fucks this shit up, then I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do... I could do it, considering he's already marked up the book.... I just need time.... no fun tomorrow, or the rest of today for that matter......

I need to know.

(make me bleed)

Subject:	100,000 Fingerprints
Time:	11:11 am.
Mood:	gurp?!.

I got so high last night I had to be driven back to the apartment.
All my emotions were exaggerated, coursing through my entire body in synchronized sparks of green light.
I felt good and bad and bad and excellent then bleh.
Watched movies till it went away then took a nap.

My first class is canceled, so I figured What the hell? Tony backwards.

Last night, I went back to school with the intention of watching Rhinoceros. The person I met saw through my lies, but it was alright. My ulterior motive was unmade.
So now it goes for real. Tonight and maybe the weekend. Green lights and red noise.

I hope Juan calls soon. Anxiety is suddenly settling in.

I should've eaten something... anything...

(make me bleed)

Subject:	red line white line
Time:	12:33 am.
Mood:	horny.

It's funny watching two persons forced to fuck each other. The rain falls with a heavy sound and the loud drum from some lady's stretched skin compliments the constant noise... you're forced to see the world through a little hole in the middle of your mask.
You're dripping wet, but is it rain or sweat?

I've never liked Steinbeck... probably never will... like hell I'm gonna read Tortilla Flat. David Rice can bitch about it all he wants... I'll just skip and bite the bullet next Tuesday.

Mario Kart DS is a great waste of time. Less work will be done; more work will need to be done.

She wears a mini skirt with no underwear. A vibrator's deep inside her as she walks the streets. I control the remote. The rainfall hides my face. My mask is wet rubber.

She writhes for me like a snake. Her breasts are small and her nipples are dark and large. Her husband watches and masturbates. I give her lightning and she moans.

I shaved my mustache and now I look Amish.

Don't know how anything's gonna happen today... wait and see, I guess.

Slota.

(2 bloody penetrations )§( make me bleed)

Subject:	!
Time:	9:18 pm.

That's right... procrastination.
I've lost the desire.

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.
Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.
You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs.

For you, comfort and calm are very important.
You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.
You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

(make me bleed)

Subject:	mmm... loneliness...
Time:	8:33 pm.
Mood:	vomm.

I gave everybody some bullshit about not being able to go out tonight. Truth is, I'm too damn tired and I'd rather stay home and get some homework done than get drunk with a bunch of losers whose names I can't remember the next morning. Tomorrow night, though, it's gonna be rough. Still not sure exactly what the fuck I'm going to do. All I know is that I have to dress up for school tomorrow (again) and that there is a high probability of me skipping my second class. I guess the least I can do tomorrow is get strunk with my bro' and watch movies while we wear our bad-ass costumes. Maybe if I die of alcohol poisoning I won't hafta worry about feeling sick the next morning.

Off of that, I feel short whenever my younger cousins are standing next to me... they're only a few inches shorter and, fuck... where the hell did it all stop? Maybe if I hadn't been drinking and smoking since 12, I could've been a much taller man. Damn genes... not enough German blood.

I need money to buy more movies.

I only have three essays to write. My writing has been getting pretty damn good and quick too.
Judging by my acceptance, anybody can be a damn poet these days.

Boredom:

You Are 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

In a Past Life...

You Were: An Insane Undertaker.

Where You Lived: Quebec.

How You Died: The Plague.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

There's just no kick ...