kaosboy

March 31, 2001

7:54 PM // react

myredself has some neato photography and other shite. check it.

kaosboy particularly likes her self portraits and i was imagining and movement.

reminder to self: take more photos. jerk.



2:27 PM // react

You go, Netherlands.

March 30, 2001

1:01 PM // react

Public display of affection is somewhat more complicated than it seems. For once I wanna make myself believe there aren't lil creatures hidin' in the bushes, carefully observing every lil action. I've had these feelings for a lil while and I've been pretty comfortable with them these days, it seems so natural (or whatever) to me. I'm only reminded of the difference sometimes when one tiny tiny statement will penetrate the core, dig a hole deeper on already brittle skin. Temporary degradation, once in a while, something that should not necessarily bother me.

His song comes on, and I can't help but smile. Face getting warmer.

March 29, 2001

5:25 PM // react

Makes me wanna go deep sea divin' and maintain my own suction cup factory.

March 28, 2001

2:40 PM // react

I'm proud of myself for only eating at big ass nasty chain fast food joints twice so far this year. I kinda had to, that's where the fucky Greyhound bus stopped like 80 times from the north to the south. ewwwww.



2:16 PM // react

"I sought love first because it brings ecstasy -- ecstasy so great I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness -- that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of heaven that poets and saints have imagined."

-Bertrand Russel (1872-1970)

March 27, 2001

7:14 PM // react

hey baby.

life is god. good.

March 26, 2001

9:58 AM // react

News like this makes me feel like my sore throat, feeble yelping at the John Paul Penry death penalty protest early this year made something of a difference. One more voice to add to the group of active discontent surrounding certain decisions that seem to be made for us. Standing in an outraged, yet peaceful group behind the gates of the (ex)governor's mansion in a repetitive pattern produces positive results, slowly yet effectively. I truly believe this.

Everything just works out by itself 'cause some things are just "wrong by default"? I beg to differ.



8:57 AM // react

Childlike and playful is Rocket Sheep, a fresh blend of sparkling art and writing. kaosboy is all about the Rhyma doodles section, submission(s) in progress.

March 24, 2001

7:32 PM // react

As I sit here and feed my ears, I am hungry and anticipatory and wondering why the fuck I still haven't put my pants on yet. Time growling louder than my stomach. Muscles aching like I've just lifted the world, like Hercules, or Zeus, or whoever the crap it was. Lower back, constant. Has this shirt always been this tight?

Last night, I ripped off the three letters from the movie store display. 'Cause I could. Now they are displayed in my window, the smaller letters are backwards, though. Shit, I hope it doesn't cause any accidents. Prey for something. I stood there for about 10 minutes waiting for the perfect moment when the pigeon perched itself on the rock, inside the circle, along the wall, bricks surrounding. Its friend came over to disturb things. The friend went away and finally the initial pigeon perched on the rock. Snap the fucking photo already, Ben!!!! I wondered if they thought I was a pole or something, since I had stopped moving during that ten minutes.

Stereo to mono in one second, fucking ridiculous. Left to right, completely center, take it or leave it. Oh man. Time for some Lucky Charms.

March 23, 2001

4:09 PM // react

And now you must bow down to Jonathan Wayshak 'cause his art punches your dog in the face and laughs at it, arms crossed, whimpering on the ground. Gritty.

I also discovered a site for one of my favorite comic book artists, Chris Bachalo. I used to obsess over his Generation X stuff when I was like 12. Flowed perfectly with an afternoon of Saved by the Bell and The Wonder Years. (sob)

March 22, 2001

4:46 PM // react

New Small Brown Bike record = brilliant

Travis SBB = mmmmmm



1:45 PM // react

Ohio is a nice place in the beginning of the spring, or maybe it's just 'cause I know people there. I could see how it might get lonely with no one to turn to and all that stuff. Last night I saw Propagandhi for the first time and felt like crying when they played "Refusing to be a Man." yeah emo as fuck, well not really. You are, no what am I. I flex my head and I won't roll over, roll over, roll over over overrrrrrrrrrr.

Are there people right behind me looking over my shoulder?? I feel like that when I do this in public places. The confines of my room are nice but it's too nice outside to be in there. Feel like I gotta go out and do something, anything, even if I have to pretend I'm on my way to do something big and productive. Sometimes it's just a bus ride to umm...anywhere.

Overwhelmed with happiness and expectation. Smash the magnavox and your dreams might come true!! umm. It's getting crowded and people are walking around in circles, some of them laughing and most are silent. shit I don't wanna go to class. I think I did OK on that test today. Well, as good as I might do for 20 minutes of studying. Feeling very spontaneous (gee what else is new) and very very happy at this moment for the first time in a while. Don't tell me why, I'll figure it out later. (I think I know but I don't wanna jinx anything) I'll be sitting there on the bus with my eyes closed, pretending to sleep, but I can't concentrate on anything but the old Korean lady talking really loud and offering apples and oranges to the girl with the baby next to her. The old lady who sounds like Margaret Cho making fun of her mom is talking very loudly about how she worked in a shoe sweatshop in Korea when she was a kid for about 40 years or something. At first it's like "yeah right" but I look over and there's that...thing in her eyes. Those apples & oranges sound really good right now...

My mom's dad and stepmom are extremely sweet. I wish I could speak their language so I can tell them what makes me happy. I'm not sure they would understand/accept/reject/whatever so it might have been interesting. Things change. I haven't seen them since 1994 when we went to Korea. I remember the wild dogs running in the dusty streets, chasing after anything that moves. Sometimes it's cars. What the fuck? I wanted to take that one cute puppy home with me, but everyone knows my mom hates dogs (because of that one incident). They brought me two pairs of underwear. kaosboy wears boxers. oops now he's wearing underwear. They're tiny. I feel tiny.

(ewww)

This is my private life, these are my private things. Come and get me out of here.

March 20, 2001

4:09 PM // react

and I return. possible (probable) vague analysis at a later interval.

March 12, 2001

2:51 PM // react

kaosboy is in sunny ohio fuckin shit up in the cornfields. This guy sitting next to me on the bus from Chicago to Cleveland talked about the unfortunate demise of the human race ("armageddon") in between spilling anecdotes into my eardrums about "the war" and deep sea diving (or something). Oh boy you make me drool when your eyes dive into mine. oh so corny, oh so sweet, oh so honest, oh so dangerous (but not really). You are fucking beautiful!

March 8, 2001

6:29 PM // react

On the count of three, I want you to sigh with me. A happy sigh, a really happy sigh.

one...two...



11:14 AM // react

God bless the toilets. I've seen the light through the porcelain ring and so can you.

March 7, 2001

8:04 PM // react

gasp.



10:15 AM // react

The difference between straight and gay men, scientifically proven.

March 6, 2001

9:34 PM // react

When I am King is awesome.



7:24 PM // react

Some artfag has redesigned his site and it kicks my ass. Very clean and sleek-lookin. Makes me wanna go swimming for some reason.

There is a slight possibility that Tony's art might:

1) make you give up completely, or
2) make your lazy ass work harder.

And don't forget to check out the PETD section on burntgraphix. hehe...dammit I weigh 165 lbs now, not this wimpy ass 140 shit. hehe man I look funky in that photo (imagine: me on an airplane n the way to LA, taking self portrait photo, while man sitting next to me stops checking his stocks and wonders what the hell I'm doing).

Speaking of redesigns, I know I've said this 80 million times, but I am working on an even newer redesign for kaosboy right now that has lots of color. And sharks. grrrrrr.



3:25 PM // react

Those wacky heterosexuals! Always acting straight around me, it's fucking disgusting.

March 5, 2001

11:40 PM // react

*puts on dork helmet*

OK time for kaosboy to take a break from the emoviolence and talk geekmachinery. Ever download an awesome illegally distributed mp3 from the internet and it's so quiet that you can barely hear it? I found this handy (dare I say "nifty") program called Mp3Trim (for PC) that lets you increase or decrease the volume of an mp3 really quickly (good for reducing ass-sucking content on mix CD's I make for friends). You can also "trim" off the extra seconds at the end or beginning of a song to save disk space or whatever.

Now my Michael Jackson mp3's will no longer need to fight with my Cephalic Carnage mp3's for volume superiority.

*takes off dork helmet and looks around to make sure nobody saw him*

(now you may laugh at me)



3:07 PM // react

Wow. The things people will do for attention.

March 4, 2001

10:35 PM // react

The battle for sympathy, and even moreso, attention, is not yet resolved, I see. Who will be the next competitor? Gladiator. Hurry up and take a number, get in line, 'cause my patience is running thin. It is almost reoccurring that I have this wonderful oppurtunity. Oh thank you god fucking jesus mary superstar!!! Wait, didn't I just give you change six minutes ago? Hey, I earned that!! I guess nothing ever changes when those same outdated calendars remain on the wall...go on, take your number. Look straight ahead. Don't give up. Step up to the plate. Cut in line, if you have to. Destroy the thoughts of others while you force yourself deeper in a pool of your own vomit.

Body language is most fascinating when the answer given is not one that is expected. Words of sudden electronic apathy and (understandable...somewhat) cynicism, intended to bite through the core of others, will eventually haunt your dreams and fantasies like monsters under the bed. The only machine to reverse this effect is not a machine at all. Pretending to understand while not understanding anything at all.

Steps to success:
1) Let the sun shine in,
2) turn off the machines (before they own your soul),
3) kiss the sky, and
4) grip the love by the wrist-- intensely.

They had a horrible gatekeeper, did horrible things to the clan, seemingly didn't give a shit about them (I wonder what his gatekeeper was like...). A few of them disappeared but contact remains between two of them, one of them nice and well-established, never forgets the clan's several date(s) of importance. The other, kinda the opposite. Ran off to a distant land by himself, his mind running even futher away from himself. He liked the gold coins and found it easy to blend in with the plasticity of it all. Don't touch me! I am an individual. And I don't need your way of life. How could anybody live differently? What's there to get? That's not life. It's not fair. Both of them brought up in similar consequences. Two contrasting directions. How to establish friends, not enemies?

She told me, "the best thing about throwing up is the feeling you get afterwards." Sounded pretty ridiculous, and disgusting, difficult and unnecessary, at first; but then I ask myself: "what if there is a good effect of throwing up?" I must do this myself; waiting for the bus to pick me up just won't cut it. Like a swiss army knife, you choose your own blade and start carving.

March 3, 2001

1:05 PM // react

In fact I think I'm gonna wake up every Saturday morning (woo) to go to the church and spread peanut butter & jelly on the slices of white bread. One bag of chips, two cookies, and a napkin on top. My hands are getting pruney, and I keep organizing the napkins on top so they won't fall off. They're all hungry, you can tell just by looking at the way they are eating. Makes me work harder and faster, I'm in a rush for something. Tremblings hands and smiles are not a very likely combination of pity and sympathy on the outside. I watched the look on his face as he talked to one of the other volunteers as if he hasn't had any contact with humans in years.

I could've stood there and listened to him improv some beautiful melody on the piano, in all these weird keys I can't interpret. "It's like everything suddenly makes sense." He knows the piano like the back of his hand. He is 49 and is wearing headphones and smiling like crazy. Kinda tense. Extremely modest. Extremely honest. I ask him how long he's been playing piano and he said he doesn't know. I tell him his music is beautiful and calming; he smiles. So friendly and cheery and oh so hungry.

We're told to stack the chairs on top of each other on the sides of the room (near the tall windows), and the leftover ones can go near the tiny podium in the front. Yes, the one with the lopsided microphone and the etching of a cross with a mountain in the background. And sunshine. Everyone is almost gone now. I sit down and play Bach's "Air for G String" very slowly, with "syncopation," on the piano. Some keys you need to press down harder than others in order to get the correct pitch. They are getting so old and yellow, almost gasping for breath. Yet they still sound beautiful.

March 1, 2001

6:28 PM // react

I don't want to be here,
I'm much too tired
so I close my eyes
and snap I'm with you
we are on vacation
you and me together
laying in the sunshine

Ace of Base, Travel to Romantis





01 / 02 // 2001
09 / 10 / 11 / 12 // 2000


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