Yesterday was ACEN, but I'm too tired to write anything in detail. Maybe tomorrow...

@настроение: Is that a man or a woman?


I'm dealing with shit. Everywhere I turn there is insufficient motivation and I have to shoulder those pathetic dogs. Enough. I want it no more. My dedication and devotion for the fineness of others' lives with this. No more. They do nothing for me. They don't thank me nor do they offer to help me... not that I would take their help. This is a dog eat dog world, right? So why am I trying to be nice? Is it to prove them that I'm not made of pure evil? Perhaps, but on days such as these when I'm just barely keeping my hea above the water, shit turns out everywhere. Screw it and screw them. I can't deal with all of this.

You know what keeps happening? A friend of mine ( of the same gender as I ) keeps calling me sexy. I try to laugh it off but C is very persistent. Not that I care about making God cry, I just feel a little annoyed that people assume that just because I don't whore myself off to random people, I must be gay. For the record: I'm not. I'm a perfectly straight heterosexual induvidual. I was born to make mutilated little cretaures called humans.

Anyway, as soon as I have a break, I might be able to deal with all the school and social and personal shit. And until then, I can only gleefully cackle as I paint my nails black for my Act on Saturday. Can't wait for the anime convention. CAN'T WAIT.

@настроение: No more AP test for me.


I'm too stressed out and disappointed to actually write anything super long.

‘Bang goes the gun’ is a popular saying.
But what does it mean when it’s not on a bag?
Does it mean hesitation and stumbles and crying
When your I-pod is turned on to play on high end?
Think of this, with revolver unblinkingly staring.
Think of the chills going down your cold spine.
Would you run, bolting quickly? Would you stay to be robbed
And the innocence knocked out with the butt of a gun?
Face the facts. It is likely in an alley or street
Gun is waiting and dieing for you two to meet.
And accepting reality, rigid and nude,
Stealing sanity slowly with the whispers subdued
Doesn’t change facts and figures, that one out of you
Will have soon a good story when a gun went ka-boom.

@настроение: AP Calc Exam....nooooo!


The man gave a nod of approval. He was up for a movie, granted his mother had some decent movie left over from the nineties. There was probably still the Pretty Woman tape that Mrs. Lavington used to pour over every Saturday with their neighbor. They always cried at the end, being the hopeless romantics that they were. It wasn’t John’s style. There were probably some Disney movies wedged between toms of foreign literature. A horror film somewhere? Maybe, but it would take John some hunting. He was quite willing to quest for a good movie, but wondered if Sullivan was up for the classic suspense/moronic movies like Scream. Exorcist? That one made John laugh almost every time. Not the best choice. Through the musings, Lavington wondered into the living room where the TV hooked up to a VCR (his mother didn’t want a DVD player even when John offered to buy one. The woman was too stubborn on the matter).

He looked through the little collection of videos in the cabinet with perfect concentration. Ha, there were even some dumb movies John did as a high schooler and in college. He never wanted to see them again. “What are you in the mood for, Sul? Personally, Sixth Sense looks a charming way to spend the evening,” the man spoke after prolonged silence and intense thinking.

@настроение: Ain't no way you got somethin' on me.


Rammstein- Amerika

We're all living in Amerika
Amerika ist wunderbar
We're all living in Amerika
Amerika, Amerika

Wenn getanzt wird will ich führen
auch wenn ihr euch alleine dreht
Lasst euch ein wenig kontrollieren
Ich zeige euch wie es richtig geht
Wir bilden einen lieben Reigen
Die Freiheit spielt auf allen Geigen
Musik kommt aus dem Weißen Haus
und vor Paris steht Micky Maus

We're all living in Amerika
Amerika ist wunderbar
We're all living in Amerika
Amerika, Amerika

Ich kenne Schritte die sehr nützen
und werde euch vor Fehltritt schützen
Und wer nicht tanzen will am Schluss
weiß noch nicht dass er tanzen muss
Wir bilden einen lieben Reigen
Ich werde euch die Richtung zeigen
Nach Afrika kommt Santa Claus
und vor Paris steht Micky Maus

We're all living in Amerika
Amerika ist wunderbar
We're all living in Amerika
Amerika, Amerika

We're all living in Amerika
Coca-Cola, Wonderbra
We're all living in Amerika
Amerika, Amerika

This is not a love song
This is not a love song
I don't sing my mother tongue
No, this is not a love song

We're all living in Amerika
Amerika ist wunderbar
We're all living in Amerika
Amerika, Amerika

We're all living in Amerika
Coca-Cola, sometimes war
We're all living in Amerika
Amerika, Amerika

@настроение: Dandy, ain't it.


Yeah, recently I had time to look back on myself. Gosh, I was a whinny little bitch, wasn't I? To think that I wrote all of those entries about how tortured my love because ass-hole E won't notice me. Gosh. I'm glad I grew out of THAT phase. I would hate to be constantly stuck in that teenage angst. It's not worth it. No way.

And then, I looked at the people ( on the internet) that I used to talk to. Liya, indianfox, Gabi, Angel, karikashka, BECHA. They were all losers, like me. I don't udnerstand now why I tried so hard to make them like me or pretend like that cared about me. What the hell? What a waste of my time! Those people, all of them, weren't worth even one second or my nerves. The more I look, the more I begin to understand my own naive nature. My diabolical plans turned out to be petty little nuisances. I am not evil. I am not a future dictator of the world. I am not reincernations of Hitler or Stalin or Mao. I am me, whatever I am. I don't want to go back into that dark ignorant place. I want to stay here, in the reds and lilacs and blue. I want to stay in this color scheme, wild and painful to the eye as it might be.

I will not thank these people. I just hope that sooner, ratehr than later I would finally forget them and the conversations I had with them.

Nie wieder!

Вопрос: A particle moves in the xy-plane so that its position in time t is given by x(t)=t^2 and y(t)= sin(4t). What is the speed of the particle when t=3?
1. 2.909 
0  (0%)
2. 3.062 
1  (50%)
3. 6.884 
0  (0%)
4. 9.016 
0  (0%)
5. 47.393 
1  (50%)
Всего: 2

@настроение: And then she like totally said, "Pass me the fag."


It came! It finally freaking came! I am the happiest human being on the face of planet earth at the present moment.

@настроение: Anime Central, here I come.... I just need to find my whip.


Things are falling apart as I'm losing my center. It may be the weather, but I'm thinking it's just me. I'm being pulle din too many directions... or maybe in not enough. I can't say. I can't think because it hurts to use my head and I need space to learn new formulas. In college no one would be holding my hand and so I have to train to walk alone, like a wolf. It's a strange notion for a human being, but in a capitalistic society, being an egomaniac pushed one forwad. There is no other way to succeed, other than step upon the others' feet in a dash for the very best.

At teh present.. I'm just tired. I wish there were few more hours in a day.

@настроение: Do you love me? That's a big secret.



We didn't make it.

We DIDNiT make it.

Christ, we didn't make it.

Is this getting through or not? Apparently not, because I've being saying this to myslef over ad over again and I still can't believe it. We Didn't make it. I knew. That sixth sense of mine that sometimes lets me glimpse into the future told me that we weren't going to make it. By the sour looks on the judges' faces, it was obvious. They put us down. They didn't want us to move on. Were we too liberal? Perhaps. When you come screaming 'breeching of our constitutional right', you're bound to be shot down by the conservative gunman. But I... I just can't say how absurd the circumstance was. Of all the judges, we just HAD to get the conservative ones. We should have made a commercial for Jesus or something. Then, perhaps we would have moved on. But we didn't and we won't. It's over, just like my dreams of going to DC with my documentary.

What can I say more? It sucks to be me.

@настроение: Don't let the person next to me fool you. I'm single.


Chapter 15

The shadow’s gloom was good enough to hide the form of those strange creatures. One couldn’t see them, for the curtain of darkness was impenetrable. The shadows like guards protected the gates to the forest’s secrets.

Large olden trees were traced by a lone hand. Those merciless fingers traced the curves of the bark with much affection. They were long thin fingers, but at the same time strong and square at the tip. One could see well that the owner of these hands worked hard, because there weren’t anything delicate about them.

Now as the creatures progressed closer to the clearance, the grip of one of them tightened on the trees. Sometimes it seemed as though that particular stalking phantom needed them for support. And even through her grip tightened the trees didn’t moan in sign of protest. They just stood silent and grand. They were like giants that shall forever sleep in this forest. Their branches extended in all direction, and often interlined with one another. Green leafs crowned the giants as though each one of them were king. And in the middle of it all, the two beings progressed. Their gazes were hard as stone even if signs of exhaustion lingered behind. Yet there was soberness in the two pairs of orbs.
A lone melody of forest began as the night came to stay. There the bird gave its voice and there rustled the bushes as a forest rodent scurried for its home. The phantoms stopped, looking upward. Dark green light gently fell on their faces.

Neither one smiled, though each wanted to so badly. Through the small patches of leafs of the trees one could even see the starry sky. A moon, round and full, shone in the dark heavens. Its light spread over everything around, like magic to them. One of them shrugged, narrow shoulders barely moving. She did not wish to interfere with the beauty of the night, but what had to be done must be done. The other sighed, breath warm against the tree giants.

“Do… do you think we’re far enough,” a little cautious voice escaped the woman’s full lips as her eyes flickered with distress.

“We must be. We have been running for two days. It would take time for everyone to realize that we’re gone,” responded the other. Her knees buckled under he weight and she collapsed to the ground in a heap of lassitude. She hugged her knees tightly, staring attentively at nothing.

“We can’t run forever, Haru. Besides, we’re out of booze. You know I can’t function without booze.”

The dark-haired woman took few steps aimlessly in random direction.

She wouldn’t be able to leave until her partner recovers anyway and Haru look bad, really really bad. Neither one of them had time to clean off the caked blood ,or saliva, or fragment of bones lodged in the niches of their clothes. There was a tooth sticking out in Haru’s hair. Perhaps they should have thought out their macabre fest better. Alas, it was too late and they were stuck in a forest with the night stalking their every step.

“Oh I know, just hold on. There’s bound to be a city or town or village around here.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in the legend of the Shitcago! Shitty ninjas don’t exist,” retorted Hatsu, running hand through her hair in hopelessness.

No beer. No tequila, No vodka. How the hell did people survive in the wilderness?

“Yes, they do and ,by God, Shitcago is our only hope. Who else would take us? I mean, look at us. You’re redder than the red giant and me… I don’t even want to see what I look like.”
Hatsu took few more steps away from her friend, something catching her curious eye.

“Look,” said she, pointing to the north.

“I don’t see anything,” answered Haru, squatting now, one knee planted on the ground as the other levitated above the ground. Her palms laid flat on the forest floor, rustling the fallen leaves.

“No, look closer. It’s… it’s a sign! It’s a sign! We found it!”

“Found what?”

“Shitcago! We found the Village Hidden in the Shit! Christ, I’m so happy, I’ll even kiss Damien right now.”

“Ok I believe you now, Hatsu. You need booze. I get it.”

“Dammit, listen to me. We found the Village Hidden in the Shit. I’m not hallucinating!”

And with that being screamed over her shoulder, the woman darted in the direction of the blinking lights like a maniac that she was.

@настроение: 7/11


My friends dream of fluffy love with cuteness and fluff. They dream of princes and princesses with open arms taking them in. Soul mates.

What do I dream of? Don't really know, but I do know that I'd rather not have those cute little feelings. I'm used to the sharpness of desire and vain of my position to think that I am irresitable. I can't sustain a relationship with another person if they always agree with me. I need opposition, violence even. When I think of love, I think of how much anguish would run through my blood at the very sight of that person's face, the jagged lines of my lust. Flowers? Candy? Loyalty? No, I want it in the most brutal light, the most animalistic. I'm not afraid to raise my voice and let my emotions flood out in a gush of curses.

To me, this is the way love is supposed to be: wild and quick. Nothing lasts and nothing should last. And when I find that demon of mine, without a doubt I would be taming it, shaping it to my own will. After all, what is life but not a struggle of two forces?

@настроение: Marked by darkness.


Death death death!

This year has brought nothing but death. I swear, the ed of the world is coming if so many people drop off like flies. There is corruption and insensitivity, and emos walking the earth. All that is left is the anti-chirst and he/she doesn't seem to be willing to come out just yet. Personally, I think Bush fits the bill.. Bush or Cheney. I'm not sure yet which one is a greater evil, the idiot or the puppet master.

I swear, soon we would have the beasts rising from the belly of hell to ravage upon our poor souls... well, ravage on souls not sold to the devil. I, unfortuantely, already took my chances with bargain with Luci. It was fun, shall I say, but I think it would take a while for Luci's end of the bargain to come true. Oh well. You have to wait for the best things in life.


My costume isn't here yet, but when it gets here, I am so taking a pic. of it. It's like a gothic/punk Lolita thingy. So freaking cool, I can't believe I bought it.

@настроение: And now, for my next trick... I shall make YOU disappear.


Today I was presented with yet another example of how rotten and no good people are. A friend of my father's had a pretty normal family three years ago. It was kind of like the quiet before the storm, because in those short three years everything crumbled into ashes. First, his mother died, then he divorced with his wife. Then, the wife's mother dies and the woman doesn't even claim the body. And recently, the wife died herself. The cancer, which she had been battling for some times now, finally got her. This left this friend of my father with two children, both girls. One is an adult, refused to go to college and still works as a waitress, trying to support herself nad her 'artist' boy friend. The younger one, I have the misfortune of knowing her personaly, still goes to high-school.

That was the set up really. Becuase things got really interesting. Wiith the mother dead, the custudy of the child had to go to the father, but the older sister didn't want to give up. She sued her father. Alas, you need a charge to accuse someone. So what did that 'brilliant' girl come up with? Child abuse. Now, according to her and her young sister, their father beat them up every time. Now, everyone knows that it's a lie. So one has to wonder the motives behind trying to put her own father behind bars. She really outshone herself. The little git wanted to get her daddy out of the way so that she would be fre to run round with her little friends.

Such level of selfishness! I find her a complete idiot, but what can I do? I simply wonder how one could seel her own father for the sake of few moments of fun. And this is why, I have no doubt now, that there is no ounce of goodness in a typical human being. Not even one.

@настроение: Two Koreas agree to conduct cross-border railway tests


I love saying the fact that people are stupid. This whole diary of mine is like a journal of a scientist onserving a group of wild animals. Yeah yeah.. I know, I set myself too high above the creatures with whom I share my DNA. But hell, sometimes I wonder how the hell something so freaking stupid could come out to this world. Sometimes I think we should just EAT all the stupid people and get it over with.

Doctor said I'm healthy as a horse and just need to get an immuization against STDs. Fancy that.

BTW, I tried to check out a diary of one once known as ANGEL. He quit. I envy his ability to drink himself out of any commitment.

@настроение: get your undead hands off of me. They're cold.


I find more often than not, that people are prone to look for perverse entertainment, and I don't mean just porn. Just stories about stupid things always are read more often than more serious material. That's why my poems like "Spank it like a Preacher" or "The Ballad of Emo" get more reviews and views than "Drake Inheritence". People don't want to deal with drama of the human experience, wonder what our role in the universe is. No, they prefer stories about a girl arranging a date for her flamboyant friend. But I would be a hypocrete to say that I am any different. I admit it, I read comedy. I read things bordering on pornography with crude language that doesn't even make the act beautiful, but almost grotesque. I admit that I read things that make me just hit my head agaisnt the wall and scream the devil's name to take me away. Yes I do. But I also try to indulge in more serious books. I read classics. I read philosophy. I read people.

There. That's what I wanted to say to throw out my franstraction about lack of enthusiasm about Drake Inheritence. What about a story about an anti-chirst doesn't attract readers? I don't know. Appearently, I'm not muich of a good writer. I should learn to accept that and move on. But still, as a last resort, I'm posting the link in hopes it would yield so results.


@настроение: Stay thirsty, my friends.


The man smirked. “This is probably the first time I’ve seen you in winter clothes,” he remarked off handedly, standing at the foot of the stairs. What a wonderful trick Sullivan knew! The younger male seemed to have an impressive ability to transform into anything one could imagine. Though John couldn’t outright say that he marveled this skill, he thought it was rather fitting. In the other’s line of work, Lavington imagined, ability to morph saved lives. Really, Sullivan looked like a perfect example of a motivated and highly intelligent college student.

Glancing to the side, John shifted nervously from one foot to another. “Actually, I was thinking we throw out plans today and just go with the flow….until three o’clock or so. Then we’ll get back home, eat, decide where to go tomorrow and then, off to the movies. Any objections?” asked the man, bringing his gaze back to the younger male. John wasn’t sure how much the younger male enjoyed unstructured walks in a new city, because that was the way Lavington usually did his sight seeing. He rarely followed maps or guides, but simply walked the common street, taking in the distinct atmosphere.

He quickly put on his coat, wrapping the scarf off handedly around his neck. “Keys,” he murmured to himself, hurrying into the kitchen where usually a spare key to the house could be found among pots and pans. John returned few moments later, happy with his short search, keys in hand. “Now we can leave with clean consciousness.”

@настроение: We've got it going on.


Death to All Emos

I just wanna say that I don't like Emos. Actually I hate them. Why? Becuase they're whiny little bitches. I respect goths, punks, any mixes of those two breeds of lonely wolves, rockers, technoes and pretty much everyone else, expect for EMOS.

Guh, just thinking about them makes me murderous. Their pizzy little attitude that life sucks just because they think the world misunderstands them. THERE IS NOTHING TO MISUNDERSTAND. You have no depth. If your 'inner world' was a pool, I wouldn't even wet my ankles. You are just an empty space on the face of planet earth. There I said it. NO ONE LIKES YOU. No one. Not even your mom because she probably couldn't by a one-day pill when she banged your dad.

Get over yourself emos, and cut your fucking hair. It might look good in anime, but in real life ( yes in the REAL world) you look like a bunch of losers that you are. And take off those thick-rimmed glasses. You don't deserve to wear them.

@настроение: Could his pants be any tighter?


If people were smarter, which they're not, they would have realized a long time ago that one can never trust words. They shouldn't search for truth in a one area of our output that is so easy to play around with. Why seek truth at all? What is truth anyway? If I can convince myself that pigs can fly, does that make the statement automatically true? Well, does it? In this world, I no longer believe in truth, loyalty, unbreakable devotion. I don't believe in miracles and that if I dream hard enough I would get what I want, because this is not how the planet Earth works. My mind is my prison and my escape. No one reads the thoughts that run through the wide plains and confinements. I live as a perception of another people and people are my perceptions. There asre infinitine variations of me. There are infinitie variations of them. I am not my own person and therefore my dreams are non-existent. I can't prove them. My ambitions have an effect, but my dreams are empty wave brains.

Goodness of people is a myth. Concern is a pity. And I am afraid to look away from this self-image because then I would lose grip on things. I live to fulfill the perceptions other people have of me.

@настроение: Step back.


Das tapfere Reh
Es war einmal ein unglückliches Reh. Sie hatte keine Freunde weil alle Tiere gemein waren. Und man nannte es Nina. Das Kaninchen und die Eichhörnchen lachten über Nina. Sie dachten ,dass das Reh nicht tapfer war. Sie war traurig. Sie wollte viele Freunde haben aber die Tiere wollten nicht mit dem Reh Freunde sein.
Eines Tages ,während des Rehs im Wald wanderte, traf sie nette Vögeln. „Hallo,” sagte das Reh. „Hallo,” sagte ein blauer Vogel. „Wie gehts?” fragte ein roter Vogel. Das Reh fing an zu weinen. „Ich bin so traurig. Niemand will meinen Freund sein.”
Die Vögeln verstanden und entschieden dem Reh helfen.
„Nina, wir haben eine alte Landkarte. Du musst die Landkarte folgen und du wirst eine Schüssel von magische Äpfel finden. Du musst die Äpfel fressen und alle Träume werden wirklich.” Sie gaben ihr die Landkarte und flogen weg.
So, folgte das Reh der Landkarte und sie ging durch den tiefen Wald, über den See, zu dem grossen Berg. Sie hatte Angst. Der Berg war furchtsam. „Ich will nicht sterben, aber ich will Freunde haben.” Sie fing an den Berg zu klettern. Sie kletterte and kletterte und kletterte zu der Spitze des Berges.
Und da, sah sie keinen Schüssel und keine Äpfel. Nina war traurig and seine Tränen fiel auf dem Berg. “Die netten Vögeln lügen. Sie haben böse Herzen!”
Sie ging nach Hause zu dem Wald mit gemeinen Tiere. Aber, die Tiere waren nicht so gemein. Wirklich, waren alle sehr nett. Das Kaninchen und die Eichhörnchens kamen zu dem Reh und sagten, „Es tut uns leid. Wir waren schlimm and böse. Die Vögeln sagten, dass du zum furchtsamen Berg gingst. Du bist tapfer! Willst do unser Freund sein?”
Das Reh war sehr froh und sie dachte, vielleicht das war keine magischen Äpfel aber das waren zauberhafte nette Vögeln. „ Ya, ich werde deinen Freund sein,“ sagte Nina und alle waren glücklich.
Und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute.


I'm energized and thinking that everything brand-spanking awesome. It's strange how few more hours of sleep change my personality so repidly. Although, my brain is in the dumps, I'm feeling great.

Explosion on surface of limitless canvas,
It scattered the limbs, disembodied the heads.
With the flames from the bombing
And the paint cruelly brushed
Artist murders by millions the people he loved.
Arms and legs and the lips contorted in smiles
Small ambitions that grew from pit of the hate.
There, the fingers without a bone strum the air
There the strings of guitar sound without the hand.
There you see, eye of his smugly gleefully sneering.
His design proved to shock the becurioused minds.
Yet the people he loved, keep on burning and hurting
There was no one to end massacre of his art.

@настроение: When the heck will it get warm again?

Spank it like a Preacher