P-chan's messy head
I’m feeling cold and hot at the same time–still tired and exhausted. Somehow I’m waiting for the perfect time to cry. I’m amazed that I can still hold back the tears, as though I’m not in the mood to cry. I thought I would be starting a new chapter. Wrong. I realized that things just Read More …
I’m back from the Hurricane Festival, which was probably my last festival. Apart from the flood and cold temperatures, I’m fed up with noisy drunk arseholes pissing outside tents! Being around extreme party animals is a pet-peeve of mine. I get anxious when the alcohol screams through them. It’s sad how they believe they’re funny, Read More …
Today’s stress level is extremely high. I don’t need this shit. I need a mask for the day that turns me into my masked anti-hero–the one who never compromises. I never take sides, even if you’re a friend. Therefore, I proved myself a bad friend and can’t handle the guilt sometimes. I’m no sociopath, though. Read More …
I forgot how to dance – like the birds in the evening sky. I see nothing around me except for rational statements coming from people’s mouths. It doesn’t interest me. Everyone sees things differently, and no one can connect with the one they feel attracted to (not to mention, love). I don’t tell people that Read More …
There are fewer spoken words each day because each sentence currently lacks meaning, or I just don’t get it. So it’d better remain unspoken before they lose more meaning. I’ve grown very detached from conversations. I dread going to the doctor’s this morning. He will talk about stuff that makes sense to him but mean Read More …
July 8th, 1967, Saturday Yesterday was Kitty Genovese’s birthday. It would have been her thirty-second. I turned twenty-five yesterday and spent the entire night working at the bar, listening to older men babbling about President Johnson while playing poker. One of them was Michael Voorhees. He is a sixty-three-year-old fellow whose wife died last month. Read More …
No more words of the past and no more regrets to pull you back. Forever buried in oblivion, keep the unconscious free. Was the experiment a failure or a success? I’m not sure. But this is a new page. There’s no time for suffocating lies and misleading illusions. Eyes wide open and ears sharp. Talk Read More …