Acen came and went. All I have left are 142 photos, few things I bought ( spiked collar, hells yes!), and a sad sinking feeling that I have to wait another year for it to be ACEN time once again.

It's not fair. It was just too much damn fun.


ACEN is tomorrow! YAY!

And I think I just made a date by accident with my ex. God damn it.

@настроение: Time slide by!


The Drake Inheritence (Finally being reworked)


Rain, Rain go away.

The rain.
How meticulously do its drops sweep the streets.
The cleansing rain.
Drops fall upon the rugged surface of the roads, fall upon the roofs of cement giants that loom over the trees. Yet, rarely does a tear penetrate the thick bulk of the walls, to slide through the cracks of age and land on the head of a deep thinker. How futile is its attempt to cleanse the body and soul of a thinker who so testily moves away cursing the day and existence and his faulty roof.
The rain.
In the rhythmic beat of a heart, it will eventually find a curve of cheek that will embrace its cold comfort. And heavenly tear will slide over the deep gash in the head, over the staring eyes, over cut cheek and open mouth. It will pass over the broken jaw and carefully fall to the ground, carrying with it signs of human missteps. And the eyes will not blink. The lips will not move. And the mind can’t think of rain, only of eternity.

Rain Rain go away.
Take with you an end and usher in a beginning.

The Beginning

“He’s alive! By God, he’s alive.”
“Is he awake?”
“Yes, Madame. He’s awake but …”
“Open the lid.”
“I can’t permit that, Madame. But if you direct your attention to the monitors…”
“You know full well that I never trust machines.”
“But, Madame, the heart rate reached normalcy. He’s conscious and the breathing rate -- and look at the frequency of the electric pulses in the brain. He’s thinking! By God, he’s awake!”
“Open the lid.”
“But Madame, I’ve already told you that-- “
Tense silence.
“Well all right if you insist”.
And then. “Please stand back. Your appearance may shock him.”
The mechanical buzz echoed in the tense room. It bounced wildly off the white washed sanitized walls and drilled into the minds of the two humanoid shadows. One nervously cracked its fingers with its head bowed. The eyes roamed over the vast surface of the white sarcophagus. The other figure calmly stood. Not a muscle moved. At times it appeared as though the creature wasn’t even alive bur rather a carving from the finest marble. The machine creaked, gritting its metallic teeth against the soft plastic of the coffin-like structure. The intense beeping from many monitors announced progression of the said task. Roaming eyes fell on the electric pulse detector. “He’s thinking, but of what?” the nervous little man thought. Oh how he hoped that the results would satisfy the witch. His very life depended on it. Quite literally.
The plastic cringed, refusing to yield to metallic arms of the massive machine. The beeping of the heart rate monitor crescendoed. “He’s afraid”, the man thought timidly listening to the crazed rhythm of the beating organ. The teeth dug in deeper, breaking the elaborate wiring of the sophisticated machine.
A sudden flash.
Cold sweat stood out on the man’s wrinkled forehead. He promised her life, but opening up the UMTU (Universal Matter Transfer Unit) was murder. The chances of the creature within it surviving outside of the machine were in the low twenties. It won’t live. It will die the moment the lid comes undone and he will die with his creation. Yes, he really hoped that lady luck came knocking on his door today. The need for self preservation furiously beat within the hunched over little man.
An eternity later a crack appeared between the lid and the base of the bulky sarcophagus. And suddenly inhuman shrikes, sounds hardly of this world, cut through the music of mechanical buzzes and beeps. The little man jumped and his gaze leaped from the brain wave monitor to the sarcophagus and the mechanical arm trying to rip it open. There the roaming eyes froze and the man’s heart hit against the rib cage painfully. Faster and faster it beat. He thought that blood would sprout though his ears any moment now as the shrieks intensified.
Were they words? No, they were as though a wail of the storming wind. In the ghastly voice, the nervous figure heard the tortured demons of the underworld rave. No. They mustn’t let the lid open. Who knows what was within? What creature shrieked so that hair stood on the back of his neck? What else but a monster can make his blood freeze in his veins and heart to race? No, no…they shouldn’t let it out.
And yet, the massive power of the mechanical muscles forced open the gates. There was no turning back. A short prayer slipped through the man’s quivering lips. God Almighty forgive me for this abomination, for the weakness of my heart. Forgive me for this sin!
A hand slipped through the opening. It feverishly gripped the sides of the coffin, digging into the plastic with its nails. Knuckles white, the horrible paw of a hand with bulging bones and veins contorted in pain. A dull thump.
The stone shadow drew closer. A certain fascination was written all over her aging features. Her calculating gaze fell on the convulsing hand. It griped the sides so hard that the sharp edge dug into the soft palm until blood spilled. Red against the white washed walls, the blood gleamed menacingly as it ran down the clutched nervous fingers and the sides of the entrapment. Another thud. My god, what will to live! She never witnessed such an act of violence and all for a glimpse of freedom. She couldn’t rip away her gaze from this drama of life itself even if she tried. The beeping from every monitor reached an even higher pitch, deafening the little man and the woman. The lines and numbers flashing out of control.
“Awd! Awd! Awd!”
She drew even closer, compelled to be near the wretched trapped creature. Her gaze was steady although behind the nonchalant mirror, fear lingered. The monster raged within its confinements and it kicked and smashed against the lid and clawed at the lid’s side. And that horrible howl of ‘Awd’ that bounced off the walls stopped her heart at moments at a time. Beads of sweat formed on her aged brow. The two minds of the figures worked as one, pondering on what they were witnessing. A secret history unfolded.
And though she was frightened, the woman came closer and closer to the unknown. What if? Yes, what if…Her wrinkled hand brushed against the convulsing fingers, painted red with blood. She threw herself upon the rising lid, feeling the violence pulsate through the plastic as the hidden creature raged within. She knew. It was alive. The thing inside was animated with God-fearing hot life and it burned her even if there were two feet of plastic and metal protecting her. In one touch to the monster’s hand she felt a soul stir.
“It’s him” the stone woman murmured. She closed her eyes and let the realization drown her in one wave.
“It’s him,” the nervous man echoed with uncertainty. Yes, it’s him. He’s back. He was brought back. My God please let it not be a mistake! And if it is, does forgiveness still exist in this world?
“The lid. I want it off now. Can’t you see? He wants out.”
She turned to face the frightened little man. Her eyes like daggers dug into the other and the cracked aged lips pursed into a tight commanding line. The man nodded, holding her imposing gaze.
“Yes. Yes. Of course, Madam. He wants out,” he mumbled. A shaky hand slipped into the pocket of his lab coat.
The machine cringed, at first refusing to obey the command, but then the giant metallic hands, that held the lid, closed tighter on it, dragging it upward. The plastic groaned, cracks forming on the surface of the lid. They ran down and up, from side to side, each one larger and deeper than the next. Two pairs of eyes devoured the sight of the metallic teeth digging into the inner workings of the sophisticated lid. It would not budge. The moments stretched into eternity. Frame by frame reality progressed, making each breathe a century long, each beat of the heart into a decade. The little man chocked on his own worry.
Moments passed. One. Two. Three. In its final desperate attempt to free the wretched creature inside, mechanical arms pulled the lid sharply heavenward while they squeezed the plastic between their tong-like hands. The man breathed. Another moment and then a horrendous sound overwhelmed his senses. An explosion. Ricocheting pieces of white material flying in all directions from the release of immense pressure. Madness.
And just like that, time jumped into its normal mind spinning pace. Clouds of the white shimmering dust rose to the ceiling, hitting against their confinements and unexpected darkness overtook the room. In such a glittering gloom anything was possible. The woman took in a deep shaky breathe, waiting for the white veil to vanish and it did bit by bit until….
She screamed. Oh god in one horrible moment a flying shard of the coffin lodged itself in the man’s forehead. One down. One to go. His blood sputtered in her stone face and her eyes bulged with confusion. Or was it just pure animalistic horror? The man tumbled backward, arms flying as if trying to catch last moments of life in the face of imminent death.
The corpse fell with a thump on clean white floor, spilling crimson. The eyes grew glazed but the perpetual look of nervousness didn’t leave the man even in death. The woman screamed even when her voice grew hoarse. His life seeped through the gaping wound and pooled around her expensive shoes. She didn’t think to run (admittedly though one can’t run away from mortality). She forgot about everything. Nothing existed but the terrifying image and her voice. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
But ignoring the tragedy befalling a certain little man, the beeping monitors came to a surcease on its own. The moan of the metal giant quieted to a light murmur of miniscule moving parts. In the confusion of settling snow white dust, a dark silhouette of another appeared. The woman turned her maddened gaze in the direction of the apparition. She wished to scream, but she choked on her voice and only whimpered. Wordlessly her lips moved, trying so desperately to articulate her surprise, confusion, fear. The stone figure closed her eyes and her hands reached out to the apparition. Come, come, she seemed to plead. She felt a million years had passed. She was a million years older now.
It did not move. It stood behind the curtain of dust. She beckoned to the hidden man and she said “Welcome.” Then it moved.

@настроение: Hey Mr. Fallen Star, don't you know I worshipped you?


Four days to ACEN. Time drags.

My roomate smokes weed. Disgusting.

I've been offered to go camping in June. Might be something interesting.

Still sick. Still sneezing. Oh well. Can't have everything.

Benny Benassi is coming.

@настроение: Time slide by.


So yesterday I got drunk. Partied with Russians. Some guy tried to kiss me. And now my knee is in pain.
But I have to admit, getting drunk with Russians was pretty damn fun. Between remembering Ruki Vverh songs and DDT songs, somehow Vasya found a guitar and we ended up singing until I decided that I neede to find some rum and tea and left.

Всем нашим встречам разлуки, увы, суждены.
Тих и печален ручей у янтарной сосны.
Пеплом несмелым подернулись угли костра.
Вот и окончено все, расставаться пора.
Милая моя, солнышко лесное,
Где, в каких краях встретишься со мною?
Крылья сложили палатки - их кончен полет,
Крылья расправил искатель разлук - самолет.
И потихонечку пятится трап от крыла...
Вот уж, действительно, пропасть меж нами легла.
Не утешайте меня - мне слова не нужны.
Мне б разыскать тот ручей у янтарной сосны.
Вдруг сквозь туман там краснеет кусочек огня,
Вдруг у огня ожидают, представьте, меня.

@настроение: 7 days to ACEN


I had a wonderful dream today, which I so wish was reality. Somehow I ended up getting JRM's phone number. So I text him and I don't expect an asnwer, but then he texts back. All of a sudden, I see him and we start talking. In my dream, he wasn't dousch. He was actually kind of shy and really nice. He asks me then "What are your intentions?" after he kisses me and right when I was about to answer him, I fucking wake up.
When else would I have a dream like that? Not soon enough. Usually I get some weird crap but this was actually a genuine good dream. Damn it.. would have been even metter if it was for real. Oh well.

@настроение: Wanna go to lunch?


I'm so tired of writing essays. I need a break.
By the way, guess what? Marilyn Manson is coming to town in the summer. I soooo wanna go. I'm definitely going to go. There is no way I'm missing them.

@настроение: Devil's haircut in my head.


"Mad World"

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'Cos I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

@настроение: And the devil too.


Sometimes it seems that no one listens to what I have to say. I'm not well understood, interrupted, muted. Maybe it's all in my head, but it makes me wonder some times what is it about me that makes it so easy to ignored. Not unless I'm angry. Then sure everyone sees me then. But when I'm calm, I might as well be partof the wall for all that anyone cares. I don't know. It would be wonderful to be heard once in a while. My opinion matters, right? Otherwise, what's the point for me to talk in the first place.

Christ, I wish I belonged somewhere. I wish I belonged to someone. I have no homecountry. No language. No face. No mind. An uprooted flower and my petals are scattered in the foreign land where I will never belong. My homeland has closed its gates on me. Why all this abuse?

@настроение: Amber is the color of your energy.


Finally after two weeks of psychosis I got a good night's sleep. Now if only my hands would stop aching. The joints of my fingers are on fire and yet I still continue to type. I need to find a different hobby.

@настроение: Appl Jacks.


In my time and age, a phrase became more prominent than it used to be. This notion of 'casual sex' is everywhere. Now it strikes me as silly or a poor choice of words. Sex by itself constitutes something of an intimate moment when two bodies join to make one. And casual? Well it makes the wholephrase one giant oxy-moron. You don't go to a casual acquitance whose name is either Sally or Annie or was it Jade? And ask her. "Hey, do you want to screw tonight? There's nothing on TV and I'm kinda bored. But hey, you're here, the couch is there... " Pure silliness. But it's everywhere and there's an expectation for it. Perseonally, I think we should change the phrase from kid friendly 'casual sex' to a more appropraite description 'blind fuck'. There, descibes everything in detail. Someone says he had a blind fuck? You knowalreayd waht he means. He can almost guess the girl's/guy's/dog's name, can almost recall how they met, and quite sure that the itch down there is not from sweat at all (can someone say STDS or as I call them 'party favors for blind fuck party')

Anyway, it's not like this is the only offense. Obama had been in power for a whooping handful of months and already the conservatives call him a tyrant, Hitler on the rise, and an Anti-Christ. Guys, wait 'til he invades at least one country, phone taps you, and then obliterates economy before you call me a tyrant. I mean, the democratswaited eight whole years. Aren't you just getting ahead of yourselves?

Reading news is depressing and that's why it's better to watch cartoons. At least there, it's not quite so scary when the idiot is in power.

@настроение: What are you? A gay fish?


Thursday? No classes. Except for 2 hours of work, I'm free the entire day. Angels shall sing song of this glorious day when I sleep in to 11. I really need it because for the past 3 days I think I have been running on pure bitch power only.
I went to the gym yesterday. Guh, I need to get back into shape since I quit tennis. No no Mr. Fat you're not welcome here.

@настроение: Blame it on the alcohol.


Dear God.
Good song. Very catchy. Who knew 80's could be so atheist in light of American Presidency. It's relief that godlessness is not attributed solely to my generation and my age.

@настроение: That's the way the cookie crumbles.


So I got a new MSI CD "IF" because of my good grades. Christ, I'm such a poser. But then, going full goth is too much work and frankly, I'drather be doing something than sitting at home and writing bad poetry and bitching about life. As said before, I can't write poems anymore and I can bitch about life without wearing black clothes all the time. But apparently a bunch of people think that I'm 'Dark' inside. Whatever the hell that is, who knows? Just because I like 'scary' music, I guess. Or is it because I have a different opinoon than what is considered standard to a bystander observing me for the first time.
Anyway, went to Anime Club and then Igor got me into frat party. Saw a VERY cute gay couple. I know that Igor likes me, but he reminds me too much of Ben. I don't think it's going to work out. But I had a nice time talking to this guy Benjie under my neiborghs bed. I slept under there. It was kind of a very cold and uncomfortable night since oly two of us stayed under the bed. And then home.
So first week of spring quarter is DONE. I love my russian lit class. The professor said something that struckme so true. The Russian people are the sort to adopt. Does that explain the sharp westernazination in the past nineteen years? We never like our own culture and are on the look out for something we deem as better. Anyway, yeah, German is good. Math is like math. But philosophy is kinda icky. I'll live through it though.

@настроение: God, you're perfect!


Давно не виделись: здравствуй!
Hoчные Снайперы

Давно не виделись: здравствуй.
Наш город не изменяет.
Наш город пахнет любовью,
Наш город как новобранец.
Ты с рюкзаком за плечами,
А я играю навылет,
Все также сердце танцует…
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня,
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня,
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня…

Давно не виделись. Дрейфишь
Спросить, кто знал мои руки,
Кто украшал мои губы,
Кто обессиливал нежно,
Кто раздевался бесшумно…
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня,
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня,
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня…

Давно не виделись. Между
Растут опасные страны,
И превращаются в звезды,
В самую крепкую дружбу,
В красивых женщин с ножами…
Мне так приятно, что помнишь,
Кто я, но нам не мешает –
Небо целует небо,
Ты обнимаешь меня,
Небо целует небо,
А ты обнимаешь меня,
Небо – ты обнимаешь меня,
Давно не виделись: здравствуй


It was strange to have someone review a poem that was already 2 years old. I hardly even remembering writing it at all! I got curious and revisied my oldworks. Hell, I was an angry kid. But though most of them were terrible, a few proved to be lyrical and rather dainty. But my my, hoe fast time runs. Or maybe slow. It almost seems like a lifetime passed since aI wrote anything of value. I can't say that I've been bogged down by the smutty role-plays, but rather that I lost inspiration or maybe my anger. Now I feel no need to write these furious poems about the popculture. I can just paint and draw and play. No more poetry. No more burning fires.

@настроение: It's just a matter of pulling stuff out of your ass.


So, second day of classes. Really doesn't feel like anything changed in the long run. My roommate is still cool. I live next door to fucking rabbits who fuck all the time. My classes changed though and I'm realizing that the last thing I like in this world is a Philosophy class. Where the hell are people pulling out all this shit from the text? I read the same thing that I didn't get any of those deep solutions to the misery of human experience. I just got sleepy.
But I think I like my Russian Lit. professor. She seems nice. Anyway, there's no point in conjuring the future. It's never set in stone. Although apparently it is set in stone that this Friday Igor is coming back for his shot glass and we're celebrating the beginning of spring quarter. Is it even celebration?

@настроение: Beautiful boy. Lovely dress.


I came back from Wisconsin yesterday with a bitter taste in my mouth. Why? Because I realized just how easy it is to be replaced. People tend to say a lot of words, but being there and seeing my friend's new friends, I realized that I was barking up the wrong tree. She found someone more like her, who didn't embarrass her because I'm not a politically correct health nut. I'm sorry. I see no point in gay marriages. Marriage is nothing but a piece of paper.So you get tax exempted. Wouldn't that mean that the gays are fighting for money? Greed. Not some high brow idea of equality because let's face it, no one is equal. There are smart people and there are idiots. I don't thnk it's fair to give the idiot as much credit as to intelligent person. At any rate, I have no sympathy for lesbians, especially not the ones that break up families. So whatever. I might lose a friend, but it's not the first time and certainly not the last.
I will stay by my beliefs. I won't change just because she thinks pot should be legal. That's her problem. I know there are two truths which I follow. One: drugs are drugs no matter from what they come from. And Two: Marriage by definition is between a man and a woman. Not liking that arrangement?Too bad.

@настроение: Oh yeah. Oh right. Feels good. Inside.


Guess what? I'm in Wisconsin visiting a friend in her university. I didn't think I'd find a computer, but since I'm stuck in the library while she takes her midterm, I found time to kill. Why now? What else there for me to do without people I know? Everyone here is stressed since unlike me, who's on a spring break, they have their midterms coming up. Frankly I don't envy them. But I'll be joining their ranks in the matter of 2 3 weeks. I should start buying boos for my courses, but they're so damn expensive and my bank account isn't exactly having the time of its life. I had to go clothes shopping ( ew). So yeah, I need to start working again. No more lazying around, although it was SOOOO nice. I wish spring break was a lot longer. But no luck. And the summer break is quite a way's off. Everyone gets off earlier than I do.
Btw, some of my friends already declared majors. Crazy, huh? Alex and Leslie are going into illustrations. Lisa is doing digital animation. I'm glad that I have about a year to go because even though I'm quite sure I'm going to end up in chemistry, I'm left to wonder what kind of chemistry I'm going to dedicate the rest of my life to. If I was a musician, that life decision would have bee WAY easier.

@настроение: A taste of the poisoned paradise.


So I'm on spring break. One more quarter of college has gone by. Besides, getting good grades, I hardly made any mark on making my future happiness. Still alone, miserable, and seeking a form of self expression. I should just listen to my dad and face the music. I'm just an average person and so I will lead an average life. Simple as that. There's no spotlight for me.
And this keyboard is still fucked up.

@настроение: People stop fighting. Angels are crying.

Spank it like a Preacher