Bullshit, Eloquence and Aposiopedic moments..

4:01pm: [heya guys, im new and here witha plan....]
ok guys- the name's andrea, live in sydney (eastern suburbs), I'm 22 and a musician. Im looking to start a band, dedicated to it in fact- and i need anyone who wants to do the same- is looking to be ina band with heavy metal/nu-metal/prog-rock/punk metal/punk-rock influences (AFI, nine inch nails, lost prophets, deftones, pacifier, incubus, tool, a perfect circle, yellowcard, silverchair, frenzal rhomb-anything that rocks butterfly effect- anything that rocks basically)...I play guitar and write and sing, i can play a little bit of drums and piano- have been into music since i was about 2 yrs old, and i wanna make this my life- the determination is definitely there- and i wanna get us all to write and shit- thatd be heaps cool....anyways..contact me... my email is chaotic_subversion@hotmail.com....and ill getin touch with ya about arranging a hookup of some sort..

6:03pm: I could promise to write more in here for those few of you that read this..looks at Dustin, Pete, Ely, Bex, the cute guy from curlup and dye and the mysterious 5407...but truth is...there's much more at my deadjournal....I occasionally post here...mostly pictures and stuff..and checking my friend page for you guys' entries...

[it's all here baby]

5:58pm: [my new baby!]

10:05pm: [I want that hair!!]

8:48pm: [re: the 'thorough bitching']
Umm...I was on the phone...

4:58pm:
( more blatant slef-indulgence... )

3:56pm: For those that actually read the somewhat sporadic entries I put here...

[my actual journal]

This is just respite and contact based really....go there^^^

1:18pm: [of the music]
"intravenous dissection- it fits the music I write because it's like getting inside the person and methodically pulling them to pieces from within..."

-Offline Journal, [04:28:2002]

1:15pm: [captivating strange]
Captivating; strange..
You've stolen the air right out of my lungs,
You play with it, cradle it
Fill it with your dream-induced kisses,
Shower it with your tears of regret, taint it with your vertigo-mystery
-Put it back in my mouth
-Give it back to me, breathing

And I take it all in;
[it tastes like the heat of you]
Turns my insides to blue
Engulfed now, with this ghost of you...
[and I don't want to expel it, ever again..]

7:58am: Return of the King rocked my striped socks...

7:58am: Petey's gone home...*sooks*

6:33pm: My NIDA audition is in 14 1/2 hours....

9:57pm: [wise words]
"The crow in the film, the bird in the film; you could really look at as a guide...Almost a piece of his own personality that guides him back into his life and reminds him of who he was, what happened to him.
This is a person who has been pushed right to the limits of his ability to cope what is going on. And in a sense is quite mad sometimes... In a sense completely insane, almost in a sense that you might think of an insane person having voices. More rational voices that try to guide him...More irrational voices that come from a more emotional... More deep-seated place. I think that the crow his that rational voice, the crow is his guide.
The crow helps Eric to do what he has to do in a very practical sense; it leads him to places where he has to be, it helps him find people he has to find.

It's a story about justice for victims.
His mission is to find the people who killed himself and his fianc?e, and kill them.
Its a wonderful role, it really is a role that you can take risks with, and gives you a wonderful opportunity to take those risks & stretch, because after all can you tell me how someone who has come back from the dead will behave. That is one of the wonderful things about playing this character, its a real.... you can really take the gloves off in playing this part because there are no rules on how a person who has come back from the dead is going to behave. There is a part of him that is filled with rage towards what was done to him. And another of the things that I like about this movie is that all the parts of the character are given balance on the screen. He is torn up really badly, both physically and psychically.
I think the appeal of Eric's mission is that it is a very pure one. He has come back to seek justice.
I have done other films that have had violence in them, but I have never done anything where I felt that the violence was as justified as this. There is very little need to worry about compassion for his victims.
This is justice, and I truly feel that it is, and I truly feel if I was in the same situation I would do the same thing: It is something that he has to do, and he is forced to put aside his own pain long enough to do what he has to. This film deals with the concept of a solution being struck between good and evil.
Because we do not know when we are going to die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well and yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood? An afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you cannot conceive of your life without it? Perhaps 4 .... 5 times more. Perhaps not even that.
How many times will you watch the full moon rise ...... Perhaps twenty and yet it all seems limitless.
This is the point of view this character is coming from in the whole film, because it has brought sharply into focus how precious each moment of his life was.
This is the best role I have had the opportunity to get my hands on".

Brandon Lee: 8th February 1965 - 31st March 1993

6:14pm: [just putting down all my songs somewhere]
[supernova]

Just get fucked and fuck you, child-of-mind; You know nothing of anything
[Conveniently blind to the process of maturing]
Content to wander through time Ignorant, repressed, held back.
Broken and diseased with spite..
There's shit showing through your cracks.

What's your grand mark on the world, your big fucking achievement?
Besides your preceding reputation of bullying and mockery.
What will anyone remember you for, perchance they should remember?
How you love to act the fool? Constantly show off your stupidity?

Here's this revelation, this omnipotent supernova
I'll leave you in my shadows, be sure your time is over..
[repeat x 3]

You're gone, lost, forgotten
I've surged on, you're over.

-[06:16:2003:23:50], A.

2:44pm: [intense frustration builds...]
People are extremely stupid..all of them, even.
You treat people well, do nothing but be a good friend and act the way you would want them to act to you..and what happens? You get shit for it.

This is so fucked...I should just quit it and be a fucking asshole to the world.
At least then it'd make some sort of fucking sense to feel this detached from the people on this fuck-forsaken planet. Bah-- stupid humans...

I can't be from this place...I can't...fucking come and get me, take me home..
[and I'm cross posting this across both journals to prove my fucking point....]

1:17pm: [I'll wash my bloody hands and we'll start a new life]
extramundane(ek-struh-mun-DAYN) adjective
Beyond the physical world.

[From Late Latin extramundanus (beyond the world), from Latin extra- +
mundanus, from mundus (world).]

"It is both mundane and extramundane: found here on earth, though far
from the dailiness of ordinary experience - in this world and hence of
it and yet, by the very extremity of the journey required to apprehend
it, not of this world."
Tom Hansen; Clinton's North; The Explicator (Washington); Summer 2000.

"Where rears his terminating pillar high
Its extramundane head? and says, to gods,
In characters illustrious as the sun."
Edward Young (1683-1765); Night Thoughts on Life, Death and Immortality.


Intellectuals solve problems: geniuses prevent them. -Albert Einstein,
physicist, Nobel laureate (1879-1955)

11:54am: [sifting through hotmail folders...]
Hello, my name is Basmati Kasaar. I am suffering from rare and deadly diseases, poor scores on final exams, extreme virginity, fear of being kidnapped and executed by anal electrocution, and guilt for not forwarding out 50 billion fucking chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, then that poor fucking 6 year old girl in Arkansas with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her off to the traveling freak show.

Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you and everyone you send his email to $1000? How stupid are you? Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by every Playboy Bunny in the magazine! What a bunch of fucking bullshit.

So basically, this message is a big FUCK YOU to all the people out there who have nothing better to do than to send me stupid chain mail forwards. Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my apartment and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing the chain which was started by Ceaser in 5 A.D. and was brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower and if it makes it to the year 2000, it'll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest continuous streak of blatant stupidity.

Fuck them!

If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly fucking amusing. I've seen all the 'send this to 50 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a Nickel from some omniscient being forwards about 90 times. I don't fucking care. Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out forwards. Chances are it's your own unpopularity.


THE FOUR BASIC TYPES OF CHAIN LETTERS:

Chain Letter Type 1:
(scroll down)


Make a wish!!!




Keep Scrolling



No, really, go on and make one!!!





Oh please, they'll never go out with you!!!
Wish something else!!!





Not that, you pervert!!






STOP!!!!


Wasn't that fun? :)
Hope you made a great wish :)


Now, to make you feel guilty, here's what I'll do. First of all, if you don't send this to 5096 people in the next 5 seconds, you will be raped by a mad goat and thrown off a high building into a pile of manure.

It's true! Because, THIS letter isn't like those fake ones, THIS one is TRUE!! Really!!! Here's how it goes:

*Send this to 1 person: One person will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter.

*Send this to 2-5 people: 2-5 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter.

*Send this to 5-10 people: 5-10 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter, and may form a plot on your life.

*Send this to 10-20 people: 10-20 people will be pissed off at you for sending them a stupid chain letter and will napalm your house. Thanks!!!! Good Luck!!!

Chain Letter Type 2

Hello, and thank you for reading this letter. You see, there is a starving little boy in Baklaliviatatlaglooshen who has no arms, no legs, no parents, and no goats. This little boy's life could be saved, because for every time you pass this on, a dollar will be donated to the Little Starving Legless Armless Goatless Boy from Baklaliviatatlaglooshen Fund.

Oh, and remember, we have absolutely no way of counting the emails sent and this is all a complete load of bullshit. So go on, reach out. Send this to 5 people in the next 47 seconds.

Oh, and a reminder - if you accidentally send this to 4 or 6 people, you will die instantly.

Thanks again!!


Chain Letter Type 3

Hi there!! This chain letter has been in existence since 1897. This is absolutely incredible because there was no email then and probably not as many sad pricks with nothing better to do.

So this is how it works... Pass this on to 15,067 people in the next 7 minutes or something horrible will happen to you like:

*Bizarre Horror Story #1
Miranda Pinsley was walking home from school on Saturday. She had recently received this letter and ignored it. She then tripped in a crack in the sidewalk, fell into the sewer, was gushed down a drainpipe in a flood of poopie, and went flying out over a waterfall. Not only did she smell nasty, she died. This Could Happen To You!!!

*Bizarre Horror Story #2
Dexter Bip, a 13 year old boy, got a chain letter in his mail and ignored it. Later that day, he was hit by a car and so was his boyfriend (hey, some people swing that way). They both died and went to hell and were cursed to eat adorable kittens every day for eternity.

This Could Happen To You Too!!! Remember, you could end up just like Pinsley and Bip. Just send this letter to all of your loser friends, and everything will be okay.


Chain Letter Type 4

As if you care, here is a poem that I wrote.
Send it to all your friends.

FRIENDS:

A friend is someone who is always at your side.

A friend is someone who likes you even though you stink of shit, and your breath smells like you've been eating catfood.

A friend is someone who likes you even though you're as ugly as a hat full of assholes.

A friend is someone who cleans up for you after you've soiled yourself.

A friend is someone who stays with you all night while you cry about your sad, sad life.

A friend is someone who pretends they like you when they really think you should be raped by mad goats, then thrown to vicious dogs.

A friend is someone who scrubs your toilet, vacuums and then gets the check and leaves and doesn't speak much English...no, sorry that's the cleaning lady.

A friend is NOT someone who sends you chain letters because he wants his wish of being rich to come true.

Now pass this on! If you don't, you'll never have sex ever again!


The point being? If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth, who's been tied to a dead elephant for 27 years, whose only savior is the 5 cents per
letter he'll receive if you forward this mail, otherwise you'll end up like Miranda. Right?

Now forward this to everyone that you know otherwise you'll find all your knickers missing tomorrow morning!

7:48pm: [momentary freeze frame]
[..looking..to..escape..]

12:21pm: I can't fucking breathe
I can't fucking breathe
This inhaler doesn't work
And I can't fucking breathe

10:44am: [the definitive guide to Andrea]
stolen from [delicate silence], who posted it on the [decadence] LJ community..

1. Who are you, where do you live, what is the room you're in like at this moment? Slightly antisocial and indulging in occasional misanthropic musings, our hero(ine) is a mixed up young'n of 21 years who floats by, with her heads in the clouds of her own private universe, quoting literature and movie scripts, and constantly making large amounts of visual, audial and textual debris she sometimes likes to refer to as art.

*Grin* I live in perhaps the windiest beach suburb in South-Eastern Sydney, right by the ocean, on that 'laid-back' little island called Australia, with my family unit, and this particular room [my bedroom today, as I am home alone and have dragged the computer in here for a change] is a living-space reflection of myself. The walls are littered with band and movie posters, life size cutouts of Frodo, the Two Towers- which will soon be joined by Neo, Trinity, Morpheus, Wolverine and Storm thanks to EzyDVD and Blockbuster Video-, my sketches and art, and those of others, photos, both from my regular nightclubbing days and my Polaroid expeditions, and random items of beauty and decadence. My clothes are floorbound, if not hanging on my movie-star style clothes rack, and there are way too many books CDs and Vinyl than I have room to store, even with two book shelves and two CD racks that house 100 CDs each...I love my music and literature...and my art materials and various forms of accessory paraphernalia are strewn across floors and tabletops and what not. There is also a lovely double bed, with as many pillows as I can muster [6 at last count, not including the yoga bolster], and of course the x-box, dvd player, violin and the guitars- one of which is actually taking a short holiday with the heart-stirring Nooey in Wollongong. My room smells of jasmine and sandalwood incense, and the ocean, as I keep my window perpetually open.

2. What is your preferred form of artistic expression? Why? Preferred?!? All of it!! But yes, that would be cheating on that question I guess. Music moves me. It gets within and washes through and over me, and has the power to stop my heart beating, or push it to beat so fast it's a humming blur, to turn me stone cold and silent, to make me rip and tear at my seams, and cry and scream, and feel immense joy and relief at it's beauty. It can affect my whole day, and compliment my moods. It lives in me like a baby in a mother's womb. It touches me more than any other art, leaves me breathless, mind blown. I'd imagine, even as a mute, I'd be forever making it in my head.

Art, on the other hand, flows from my heart and veins, through my scope of vision, and is manifested endlessly through my hands, which rarely stop to rest once they have started creating something. There are parts of me in everything I make, if even simply something I've made for a job of some sort, and every single scribbling or sketch is riddled with emotion and intense meaning. It's been a part of my being since my first box of Crayola crayons as a two year old, and I imagine I will never ever stop doing it. I've been through different art tutorial programs, and even attended art school twice [and dropped out twice!] and most certainly plan to do so again. I guess this form comes the easiest to me, because it just never stops flowing.

Then there's writing, which, as is exemplary from these online journals, and the six or seven notebooks I have on my bookshelf, is also another constant means of personal expression. Having a formidable brain capacity and level of learning, I've always loved to delve deep into the English language, and would consider myself both a philologist and logophile- a person who studies the structure of language, and a lover of words, respectively. You learn the nuances of the English language when having to teach it, and it taught me a lot- mostly that English is the pretentious poet's language, it has an endless slew of synonyms for even the simplest little noun or adjective. I write song lyrics, poetry, essays, journal entries, observations, scripts, everything and anything. I don't stop writing either, and even the thoughts in my head tend to be structured poetically, ready for expression, wether textual or aural.

And of course, how could I forget drama? I love drama, acting, performing in general, of any kind, and I'm sure there's many who'd say it was a talent instilled from waking to this world [yes, yes, though I may be a lot more centred these days, I always was, and admittedly still am a damn drama queen]. It's my currently manifested means of artistic expression, with our theatre company [[Darlinghurst Theatre], shameless plug!] performing Cosi in December. This, like music, is the one I can see myself taking further, on a professional level, as a career. I love the idea that you can be anyone with drama. You become the character and your whole world, perceptions, ideals, and mannerisms change, if even only for the moment you're on stage. And such deep analysis of peoples minds and body language teaches you a lot about yourself as well. I admire that ability in actors, to take us away and deliver us from the mundane and mediocre, and I like to do the same thing.

So my preferred? How about Passionate self expression as an art?

3. Who is your favorite artist and why?
I couldn't pinpoint it- somewhere between Rodin, Da Vinci, Dali, the texts of Milan Kundera, Margaret Atwood, Anne Rice, Chuck Palahniuk, Sylvia Plath, Oscar Wilde and Descartes, the films of Oliver Stone, Tim Burton, Alex Proyas, Baz Lhurmann, The Wachowski Brothers [of course], Peter Jackson, Hiroyuki Kitakubo and Yoshiaki Kawajiri, the sounds of Trent Reznor, Thomas Newman, Beethoven, Bjork, Lamb, Static-x, Mudvayne, Maynard James Keenan,Tori Amos, Deftones, Elliot Goldenthall, Graeme Revell, Clint Mansell and Howard Shore, and I particularly like the way Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Kevin Spacey, Edward Norton, Tim Robbins, Juliette Lewis and Johnny Depp portray their characters. And that's just a summary..

4. What sorts of things do you like to receive in the mail? postcards, random art, long winded and strangely intriguing letters, freezeframe-captures of beautiful moments from the lives of people I've missed and longed for and gallery and theatre adverts. Oh and books and music. I always love seeing Amazon.com packages in the mail.

5. What are some quirks about you that you'd like to share? Hobbies? Habits?Strange tidbits?

1. I apparently sleep with my eyes slightly open.
2. My heritage includes Argentinean, American Indian, English, minimal Scottish, Turkish and Romanian Gypsy, and Italian.
3. I want to learn everything I possibly can in my lifetime, including about 70% of the world's known musical instruments.
4. I think and over analyze much more than is evidently good for me.
5. American Beauty and Fight Club reflect me too much in their display of both my utmost weakness and loss of sanity respectively.
6. As life goes on, it's becoming ever more beautiful and painful simultaneously, and perhaps even the latter due to the former, and I know one day this will be the death of me.
7. I've had karma prove it's strange, above-definition existence too many times to deny it.
8. I think the violin is the most beautiful instrument in the world.
9. I hope I never learn to be too strong to break down and cry.

6. What are your greatest values? Compassion, kindness to ourselves, this planet, and the creatures that share it with us, freedom of self-expression, perpetual growth and learning, belief in karma and accountability, appreciation of beauty and embracing the scope of human emotion. Must say, though, it's so much easier to record it all than to live it.

7. Where do you hope to be in five years? Independent, more so than now- both emotionally and physically, Sure of my own identity in the face of greatest adversity and emotional pain, doing what I love [on stage with a band, or making movies], content, fit and healthy and at peace with my past.

8. How can we reach you if we want to write letters to you? e-mail me, ask for my address.

9. What are some of your favorite things? Colors, textures, scents, foods, things? Rain, an overcast sky, the score and script to American Beauty, sitting on the highest cliff at north Maroubra, or at my cave- with Ettienne, my acoustic, a journal, sketchbook and warm woolen jumper on a windy day by myself, comfortable solitude, as much as it hurts-a good painful, heart-wrenching cry, and the childlike sleep it induces, waking up to a day like today with the whole house to myself, my memories with Adam, books and music, jasmine and sandalwood incense burning together, and the smell of roses and frangipani, watching water, the ocean, long aimless walks where I'm more in my own headspace than the real world, dreaming, lucid or otherwise, art and expression of all kinds, watching martial arts, although I don't do it anymore, I love the memory of weed, the music of silverchair and nine inch nails, and the way it can reflect almost every aspect of my mood at almost any time playing my piano or violin when I'm sad, drums when I'm angry or frustrated and guitar any time. recording everything, wether it be internal or external, avocado, soy cheese, roasted capsicum and falafel on Turkish bread, toasted, and smoothies with banana, organic soy yoghurt and orange, vegetarianism, meditating, yoga, my dog nelson, those silent small moments where I'm just completely content, letting go, beauty.

10. What sets you apart from everyone else? my soul, my eyes, and my mind.


My heart just broke a thousand times over....and this music is paying with the shattered pieces...

I still miss you immensely, my old friend...but I think I just heard our final good byes on the wind...

3:37pm:
Ravenclaw! Some might see you as a bit haughty, but
that's just because they lack the intellectual
capacity to be worthy of your presence. You see
little difference between enlightenment and
entertainment; learning experiences are
tremendously enjoyable for you. And remember,
kids: just because you're brilliant doesn't
mean you're studious!


A More Unique Hogwarts Sorting Quiz
brought to you by Quizilla

3:37pm: Bah- we're all children in the end, aren't we?
When will we learn we're going to grow and learn and make mistakes for the rest of our lives? Judgments are inane, and so totally subjective that they hold no real weight beyond opinion..

I'm leaving this pain behind, aiming for my stars..

12:08am: [lift your fingers from this bruised and broken skin]
This song makes me weep for you, about you, and still I'm clawing at the cavernous hole your absence leaves in my side- still I feel cool air rush through my insides, stinging raw wounds, and wishing you were more cavader than lost paramour...because it's easier to deal with..

Because our endings are nothing but bitter..
And you make me sour and pained and hurting.
My eyes have stung all week with the salty manifestation that is reminiscing about you..

And because I fucking love(d) you, I fucking hate you now...
So...it seems hate and love are parallel emotions, once-dear-too-dear one

12:04am: [dream skepticism]
"How often, asleep at night, am I convinced of just such familiar events ? that I am here in my dressing gown, sitting by the fire ?when in fact I am lying undressed in bed! Yet at the moment my eyes are certainly wide awake when I look at this piece of paper; I shake my head and it is not asleep; as I stretch out and feel my hand I do so deliberately, and I know what I am doing. All this would not happen with such distinctness to someone asleep. Indeed! As if I did not remember other occasions when I have been tricked by exactly similar thoughts while asleep! As I think about this more carefully, I see plainly that there are never any sure signs by means of which being awake can be distinguished from being asleep. The result is that I begin to feel dazed, and this very feeling only reinforces the notion that I may be asleep." (Meditations, 13)
-Rene Descartes

12:02am: [intravenous]
You're infixed
And sadly, ineradicable
You, my poisonous muse,
Obscura-Paramour
You have me weak-hearted
And dying to touch you
Destructive philanderer...

And I am tainted, perhaps
Ongoing, certainly forever
Your residuum replaces my
Vitality...

And this heart beats out
Your inky sustenance
Spreading through these frail
And drying veins.

And thus, my swan-singer's voice
Cracks, croaks, falters...
And falls irreversibly silent.

-A. 06:11:03