The Day I Tried To Live Without the DUNCE Hat On

| Friday, November 6, 2009

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m tired. To whine about the horrors of life is repetitive. I can waste away into bankruptcy trying to get half as much or just wait for that moment when those 100 pennies do their job and change my life – forever. People laugh when they I say I wish I was in high school again, asking me, “You really want that time of angst, peer-pressure and awkwardness again?” Yes, I wouldn’t mind. Its light years better than waking up, going work, wishing you weren’t there and then go home. It is, in my opinion harder. Much, much harder. I’d rather deal with deep depression, days of being alone, taking long mindless walks, writing papers, and being driven with the need to not fail. Life is pretty much the same now, just with out the days of being alone.

I shouldn’t be doing this, this madness. Let’s bring ourselves to the sunny side for a minute. Last night I had a partial viewing of Pan’s Labyrinth. The first time I saw it, I had the pleasure of seeing it all in Spanish. Having no clue at all to what they were saying, I made it though by noting their actions, emotions and knowing a few phrases here and there. Visually, it is a stunning movie. Story wise, it is a stunning movie. As for as fantasy movies go, this one was done perfectly and intelligently in the view of a child and how monstrous adults; the real world can be. Looking back my imagination as a child wasn’t as vast. Grasping reality was a priority when I was younger; to be in a fantasy world only the half of the time would have a disappointment to me. So in its place I watched television, lots of it. In a normal person’s lifetime a total of 500 or so movies are seen without noticing. I’ve seen a little over 5,000 and I remember every title. No matter how good it was or how long, every one of them left its mark some how. One movie, as you all know made a special impression in my life. Creepshow, though as corny as it may be, is one of the best collage of short stories in one film I have ever seen. I would see it 100 more times if I had the time.

An explanation of why I favor this movie over most can’t be explained in one sitting. The one thing that I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing is being interviewed. I probably wouldn’t like it. But if I ever was and had to explain why I do like the film, it would go something like the paragraphs below. The tone takes a very unsettling and sad turn, half way through the dialogue I realized it was all conversation with myself. I enjoyed it for a while but playing pretend made me realize how unimportant I am. I am only interesting to myself.

Why Creepshow. Why is that your all time favorite movie? Why not “Gone With the Wind? Or The Wizard of Oz?

Well, that question has to be answered in parts. Take a look at the movie from my perspective. It begins at night riding a storm, in a little house in a rural neighborhood. Right there, something I didn’t have. I was born and feared all my life would die in a high-rise project in Brooklyn. My windows were many and all I had was the darkness of the night and the lights of the city that never slept. The air isn’t still, it could never be with the noise of the cars, trains and the people - none of it could be blocked out with double plated glass. In the suburbs, you can only hear yourself breathing. That’s the only sound I wanted to ever hear. The movie continues with a father yelling at his son for reading comic books. Years later I found out the truth behind that fight. The comic “Creepshow” derived from similar criteria of “Tales from the Crypt”, “The Haunt of Fear” and “The Vault of Horror”, a series that was sentenced to death due to their violent and outlandish subjects that parents and the like protested to the point of having burning parties. To think that reading a fictional piece of literature makes people violent is just as insane as the concept of voting. So the father’s protest was a generalization of not comic books, but which comic book the son was reading. The mother just watched and added limited dialogue to the issue. She was an adversary to the battle of being a parent, she really didn’t win or loose in the matter. This is where I also saw what kind of figure a father is in a family. A strong, unrelenting character in the lived in the houses of a select few. I didn’t have that growing up and I think I would not have turned out any differently if I did. The opening scene concludes with the son getting slapped for a revealing comment and the comic gets thrown away. The son curses his father in the process and a ghoul of some sort appears, this is of course the Crypt Keeper reincarnated. See, this is why I enjoyed the movie so much when I was younger until now. It’s the rebirth of something that died years ago by ignorance and selfishness. The time that it all came out was indeed a different one; people couldn’t handle that sort of macabre and rejected it. I knew I was seeing something for the first time for what it was, and it was amazing…

Wow, I would have never imagined that reaction. You see things in a different light when it comes to movies and their meaning?
I really wouldn’t say that. I wouldn’t say I see things in a different light; I just have an opinion of things over time and asses my thoughts over it. I perceive…think about things all the time people really shouldn’t be thinking about. I dissect the littlest things, in the end I keep them to myself and forget about them later. My mind has some degree of deficiency when it comes to holding on to a thought. This is a rare moment. If you called me and told me that the tape recorder was busted and didn’t record anything I think my heart would sink [laugh]. You couldn’t get this from me again.

That’s discouraging.
So is taking a bowel movement that's all black.

No, that’s just disgusting.
Human bodily functions are the most revealing thing you can find out about someone [...our yourself] other than seeing them naked, it can tell you a lot about them. That’s disgusting. If my farts came out smelling like tortillas, that gives you the idea “Oh, she likes Mexican” or some other kind of corn treat or meal.” [Long pause] What were we talking about again? I feel we’ve veered off some subject.

Yes, yes we quite have [laughs]. We were talking about ‘Creepshow’…
Oh yes, OK. Going into the five stories that create the environment of the remainder of the movie can be pretty trivial. What I admired the most was that in every story a unique artifice appeared in every one of them. There was a marble ashtray with a decorative metal protrusion on top of it. It’s very nice; I wish I could find a replica of it [laughs]. It makes a beautiful table nook.

The first tale is completely about patricide. It’s a really dark subject considering the scene that we’ve just watched with the son and the father. When he snarls “I hope you burn in hell!”, that sums up the feelings of all youth at that age. I definitely felt that way when I was 9, 10 years old; I still do know [laughs] But seriously, how ironic is that. I think the subject was candy coated, the fact that the daughter killed her father wasn’t really hidden; it leading to devastating guilt, and he resurrecting from the dead to finally get his Father’s Day cake is ridiculous. If anything it expressed that he was a man that got what he wanted, no matter what. Well, that was her impression of him.

I never made that connection, and it’s clear now. That’s amazing. Are you making this up as you go along?
Yes, all of it. This is something I’ve never really thought about until now. And to freely think about it aloud is great. I’m taking this hour and a half 80s B movie into a theatrical masterpiece of intelligent storytelling. When it is just a campy horror/comedy that became a cult classic in its own right.

Indeed [laughs] Continue, PLEASE!
For as long as I can remember I’ve always enjoyed Leslie Nelson. And to see him in a masochistic role was astounding. Who in the hell forces someone to bury themselves in the sand and watch them drown via camcorder when the tide of the ocean comes in? That’s a sick man, a man who gets what he wants…Just like the father from the first story. It’s all a matter of principle. A man scorn? That happens, how often is that though? I don’t even want to think of it really because I could careless. But I would have cared if I was married to him and had done to me what he did to his wife. What happens toward the end of the story is hilarious. Once when I was watching it with my Mom she said, “That’s all in his head.” This, I had to agree with her. Guilt killed him. Guilt made him set up the cameras. Guilt made him dig his own hole and bury himself in the sand. Guilt is human condition, a space that will never be filled.

I heard that people who are grieving or who are holding on to a problem for a long duration develop hysterical illnesses and ailments. That’s phenomenal, for your mind to turn on you that easily. I feel people turn on your faster. Bringing me to the next story about Jordy Verrill. What’s perplexing about a hick living in the middle of nowhere? Truthfully, nothing. A large percentage of people live that way and prefer it. But at the unlikely event a meteor hits and you’re the only person around to be aware of this is definitely a terrifying ordeal. He didn’t think so though. He was alone and scared. He perpetuated the occurrence to be a profitable one until the growth began. And the feelings of being alone and scared were only amplified by what the meteor had brought upon him. The story was a very sad one, “The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill”, his fear was the meteor. We all have our shots from the sky we dread.

Maybe so. But how does his story relate to the rest? He doesn’t have a goal or hate his father.
I have a sense you’re getting a little bit too excited about my claims. I am making this up as I go along, I’ll probably see it later on as we go along. [Long pause] Come to think of it…his father was dead and came to him as a vision. So I guess there is a connection after all. It’s unfair that when you’re close to death you begin to see people who’re no longer in your life. [In movies] they tend to always try to be the life saver. I find that to be cruel. Free will is a thing of the living and 100% of the time we’ll end up dead anyway. It’s misleading really…

When you look at “The Crate” and “They’re Creeping Up On You” are completely different stories from the rest. How does an ancient yeti living in a box under the stairs and an old man with Entomophobia have to do with anything? I really don’t see the connection. Though it was entertaining to watch how they both played out. The mere horror of finding something alive after being trapped in a box for over 100 years is enough to drive you into a profession of drug taking. Curiosity is in all of us, if I found a box that looked like it hadn’t been opened in scores, my first thought is “there must be treasure in this that will make me richer than Jesus’ mother.” And that’s exactly what the professor thought too. But in return he had to watch a janitor and a “19” year old college student get consumed by an aged gorilla torso that was famished for human flesh. But the side story touched a subject also of spousal abuse. What movie since displayed that women can be abusers? Though she was purely verbal, it’s still abuse. And the battered husband reacted in a way as all battered husbands do, except the problem resolved itself with a yeti in a box. So I guess he got lucky. Everybody gets one.

I saw Creepshow once and I barely remember “They’re Creeping Up On You”
That was one that was erased from my memory too when I was younger, I had just seen the movie only a few times. I, myself do not favor the company of bugs of any kind so I consider this story one of my least favorites. I’m going to ignore the whole story in fact. An old bigot in a white apartment with a bed, jukebox, and a computer wasn’t as interesting to me as I thought it would be when I saw it for the first time. But it did show once again and made it obvious that it was all in his mind. There was a part where he had smashed a roach with his hand and when he lifted his hand to look at the remains, there was nothing there. I’ve experienced the short life of a shut in and it had never gotten to that point of realistic hallucinations of my inner most fear. The roaches symbolized how consumed he was with himself, his company and lifestyle. When the bugs finally caught up with him in his look-in air tight panic room, it’s like all the air was pushed out of him and he had no where else to go. That and he had a heart attack [laughs]. I would too if I saw a bed of bugs. The part when they all come pouring out of him means something too; it gave a visual of how ugly some people are on the inside. It’s sad really. Another sad case.

You’ve turned this movie into something other than what it really is.
I hope not, I’ll watch it in the same light as I always have. Played in a constant loop at all times to make me feel like someone’s home.

Would you ever have your children watch it?
Of course! I’m a hoarder for music, movies and other sorts of entertainment. It’s all influential, and I want it all to capture my children in some way. I can’t act, sing, or play an instrument very well but when I listen to music, watch a movie or see a stage performance of any kind I feel like I can for just that moment. It’s a great feeling. And then back to reality. We can all dream.

Indeed. It was a pleasure talking to you. I don’t think I’ll be able to watch the movie the same again. Thank you for your time.

You’re welcome.

I don’t care if I seem off. It’s just the way I am. I don’t think I’ll ever change.

“There is no Yoda – there is no one who points you in the right direction. You’ve got to figure that out by yourself.” – Heath Ledger

Unleash Hell :-P

All good thing require time, planning, and understanding

| Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Yes, well. It's been some time. And for that I deeply don't care.

This morning on my way walking to work, some papers were flying gently in the wind and a skinny jeaned gentleman picked up a paper that he obviously did not drop. Walking ahead of him I found another piece of paper and swiped it up noticing that it had some scribbles on it. On the back of the paper stated:


Subject: (State exactly what you want; do not ask for interview without stating your question)

So this little ditty was left by a Fortissimo Fortltude from Willoughby. Age unknown. He doesn't have much skills for writing, that's for sure; but whatever the hell he was writing about was either thrown away by him or these "interviewers". Very puzzling. See if you can guess what the hell the "job" was for.

UPDATE: I threw this away as well, to be recycled into a starbucks cup.

I’ve learned well…
People fear me because of my vast collection of knowledge. I’m in jail. People think they are better than I am because those have more than I do.
I laugh at the petty cash.
I drift back and forth of what I use to have.
I mustered math with a combination of intellect my “chuandry” very complex.
Ain’t nothing simple about me.
I’m a college course for a degrees.
I ain’t perfect I drink and puff herb B.
I carry guns and sell drugs see.
I was the devil son once upon a time...
I was presented the truth about my people, how was manipulated and enslaved by evil.
I’m discipline and dedicated.
I have order and I’m situated.
I broke the psychological chains of slavery.
I *unintelligible* the words.
I’m black and I’m proud with bravery.
They can’t stop me now, I’m motivated.
Obligated to prosper, celebrating over linguine served with shrimp cocktail sauce and lobster.
I’m deadlier than a *unintelligible* strike.
More professional at killing than a mobster.
My words describe mental murder.
Can’t read my mind, it’s like doctors *unintelligible* fooling me it’s unheard of.
I’m a master mind *unintelligible* the son of Joseph.
Yes I was chosen, my message is pointed at your mind.
Keep closing another door always open.
I’m better at sailing the seas than boats, I practice swimming in the ocean.
My skin is rich, never ashy. Don’t need lotion – I’m joking.
Moving forward with the time, my mind is sweet like juicy fruit. Like a female in heat I’ll leave you open.
Some got this twisted; they say I’m a waste of talent because I’m gifted.
Live where live just like me your thought would be drifted from a good boy to a caramel.
I shifted.
I have no limits, this ain’t no gimmick.
My eyes seen too much death and pain, love and joy.
The goodness destroyed the bad I’ve employed and yes that life I enjoyed.
Today I’m a better man, no longer confused.
Life is to cherish not to abuse.
I hear the music in the background.
She’s singing a wonderful song.

I’m not crazy. I’m pathologically high-spirited

| Thursday, September 24, 2009

The other day after I left from the gym, I started watching “The Midnight Meat Train” from iPod on the train ride home. I was lucky to find a seat mind you to enjoy this. So I was sitting next to this guy who was reading this book. The title escapes me; all I remember is that it was a large book that probably had something to do with “How to Become a Hipster in 30 Days” because he lived in Park Slope. I know this because I saw the stop he got off at. And as he had gotten up he STARED at me. And of course I started back. Dude, you had a chance to say something about what I was watching. There was no need to stare.

You know who you are.

Lifes The Same Except For My Shoes

| Friday, August 21, 2009

Hi ho!

This just in: Will people be flocking to see 2012?

Recently I had the pleasure of seeing District 9 with the love of my life and I must tell you, if you haven’t seen this movie yet – go see it NOW! It’s an amazing story that you would never expect from the mass trailers and posters around your area. Bloggers abroad know pretty much what the movie is about, I’m sure they’ve written about it. I haven’t read those blogs because I have an opinion of my own of the film that I like to keep in tact. This movie will surely leave a mark on you, no matter how you were raised.

Sadly, I cannot give a definitive review of the movie. I recently did read an article after the movie was released, revealing the many many directions the movie went. I enjoyed the article and felt that I had general feeling that culminated into a love that is this movie. So please, go see it.

Now for the main event. I’ve seen the trailer for 2012 long before I saw it in a theater, actually it was a much funnier trailer than the actual one was. Here, take a look:

See? Much funnier than this one.

Point taken. But will people actually pay to see this? Granted it is a theatrical work of fiction that is based on scientific, and ugh Mesoamerican Armageddon calendar. How can we divulge ourselves into this pile of shit? The Mesoamerican’s are DEAD for a reason, they out lived their calendar a long time ago. So, to be the dicks they decided to pick a number in the 2000’s that will most definitely be the end of the world because it just seems to be the right time. Funny, they didn’t mention this in the 1980s, 90s, or when it turned 2000. We get the hot side of this fart 3 years before it supposedly happens the 21st of December. It will be safe to say that I will be with my boyfriend (who will probably be my husband by then) ready to push off with a wicked speedball, making our way into the next dimension with out a scratch. That we could feel anyway. Or if things get really hectic, I propose a driving into a canyon…if only there were canyons in New York.

So that’s how I feel about that. I generally do not like programs that give scenarios of how I’m going to die that differs from old age, rape or possible home invasion. Maybe they ran out of paper.

Fuck it, we’ll do it live!

We've all been lied too

| Friday, August 14, 2009

Sometimes I stop and think, "I'm not really important in many people's lives."

Well, I'm not. Anyway, I'm singing Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun" on of my favorite songs of ALL time. I will be 80 blasting this song from from my headphones.

I went through my old note pad files and found this.

Ha ha, boom head shot.

Now, where were we? Madness, I tell you! I bring to you another poem of mine. I have little recollection of my inspiration of this one. I remember I was in high school. And either just read or seen the movie Fight Club. Loved them both. So here it is. Falling, Six Feet Under

Falling so way,
Way down
That there ain’t no way I’m gonna get back up
Beaten and bloody from it
I roll on my back
Blinded by the light
I look up to the
Once large now small hole
That I fell though
And feel the pain of your love once again

That time when I felt your love
For the first time
How soft and wet and warm it was
So, so painful
You were the one
The only one that I wanted this feeling from
Because if someone else gave it to me
I wouldn’t know what to do
You know why?
You’re one in million
Nothing on this earth like it
Not a damn thing like it

That time when we were far into each other
Each others minds
Each others bodies
Each others souls
Without words you knew what to do
And with that first hit
Feeling the blood run down and across my lip
The second hit
The throbbing pain on my cheek
And the third, the forth…
I clench my jaw tightly
As your cold, wet hands gently squeeze my life into nothing
Breathing hard, hot gasps of your love for me
Seeing black
Your face spiraling farther and farther into the darkness
Experiencing the euphoria…

Of the cuts made by you
And bruises made by you
I can’t believe it took so long
For me feel this free
This loved
The years, months, weeks and days
Of stupid and inane minutes of wasted time
I wasted my fucking life
My entire fucking life of waiting for the right one
The right goddamn one to come
And give me what I wanted
What I dissevered
The pain that love is
Love is not the words “I love you”
Love is not that soft and wholesome shit on television and in movies
Love is the pain that you feel when
Your Mother slaps you on the face
Because you were bad or for no reason at all
Love is the pain that you feel when
Your Father ignores you, hardly even acknowledging you
Love is the pain that you feel when
Your “lover” leaves you on the curb without reason
Beaten and battered
Emotionally, never physically
Love is the pain that can be purely unimaginable
Because that’s the pain I feel when I’m with you

It’s when it gets too much
Or sometimes too little
The pain that I have is nothing
Like the pain that I never wanted
I found out something
Something so…bad
So un-pristine from what I really am
I…I can’t feel anymore
I can’t feel the pain you give me anymore and it hurts
It hurts
I want something stronger
Something thicker
Something more, more…harder
I want to bleed without stopping
I want to see black in all four corners
I want to move beyond the freedom nobody else has
I want to breathe smoke

Looking up at the bright light,
The hole that I fell though,
Waves of more bright light cascades
Closer and closer to me
But I don’t see the light anymore
But a hand wanting to take me
Back up to the surface
Now, I don’t feel your pain
Now, I want to discuss earth after touring hell
Touring my own hell
That will never freeze over.

© 2002 DiRtY

Unleash Hell :-P

Been Out, Now I'm In

| Friday, August 7, 2009

Must we make conversation every time we pass? So, I found out the The Great Gatsby was written without the letter "e" in it. What an ffort.

Over the break I've gotten some new additions into my life:

1) Even Dwarfs Started Small DVD.
2) A Region 2 copy of the Special Edition 2 Disk Creepshow DVD.
3) A gym membership.

Now I'm not going to bore you with the gym membership, that's a boring boring story. I wouldn't be joining for the desire of being in the presence clean white towels. So with that I leave it there and say...I joined for being in the presence clean white towels.


I have seen it throughout my youth over 100 times. And I'm going to see it 100 more times with 5 deleted scenes and commentary. There is a joy like no other when I receive this gift :D. It maybe compared to a very satisfying bowel movement.

Lastly, Even Dwarfs Started Small...Google it. It's an amazing movie. I can't review it because it's one of those movies that I can't describe, bring any humor too, or judge. I just love it. I hope you do too (if you decide to watch it).

So...and now to our main event. The poem below I wrote while I was laying on my parents bed. That's all I remember truthfully. It was about someone, I can honestly assume I was sexually active at the time. But I could be guessing. Without further a due, I give you Addiction

Crawling, twitching
Wasting and Itching
I cut my time off into intervals,
Memory laps of delusions
Cold, wet and confused
About everything but...


Licking and picking
The places you once were
Where we both made love
Soul to soul
Mind to mind
I close my eyes and hope pieces
Fragments of you were left back
Left behind to satisfy my hunger
My fix
My weakness that is...

My Addiction...

Cramping and shaking
I see you in all corners of my mind
But you're never there
The video record records you left behind
I love to watch so much
Vast, familiar smells and sounds
Resurface as I see you, us
Frozen in time
My fingers are like lightening bolts
Compared to my vibrating babies
I love to hold
To use so much
Coming closer and closer together
Falling from heaven
A place I always in when I'm watching...

My Addiction Is...

Trembling and screaming
"Where are you?"
"Why can't I find you?"
"Why are you doing this to me?"
All I need is to feel whole again
I need to be loved again
I forget to forget
Your blood in mine
Your seed in mine
Your hand in mine
Don't forget I have you in mind

My Addiction Is You.

© 2002 DiRtY

Unleash Hell :-P

Keep it Casual

| Thursday, July 23, 2009

Yea, I played with knifes when I was younger. So? What did you do that so special? Join the peace core? You suck.

5...4...3...2...Too Late

Today was going to be a normal one,
or so I thought...
I went into the kitchen and put my dirty dishes in the sink
I opened the fridge door
Took out a number of things, too many to mention
I took out a knife that was in the holder on the counter, the longest one to cut
The sharpest..
Cutting piece by piece my delicious treat for later on
For later on, will I enjoy it then?
Music playing randomly from the TV
And I had no time to look but only to listen
For a split second my trans of thought left me
Where could it have gone?
"Shhhhheeecccaaaaa" was what I yelled
It was better than cursing
"Don't use those any more! Why weren't you careful???"
I was careful, it can happen to anyone.
It's not like a slit my wrist
Now I know the feeling.

© 2001 DiRtY <====(I did this when I was younger, who knows if it worked)

lol I still have a nasty scar

Unleash hell :-P

When I was 17...

| Tuesday, July 21, 2009

I wasn't really 17. A Long, long ago when all I had was time on my hands I would write anything that I imagined. Even if it didn't make any sense whatsoever. At that this time of the poem I hadn't experienced true love or any other form of sordid emotion. During that period I had read so many stories that conveyed that feeling that I thought I knew. Well, I didn't. Ha!

"So good to see you, I missed you so much"

Surfing the television for something to watch became listless and boring again. Keeping herself busy to shake off the constant unease and excitement of seeing him for the first time after so long. To see his eyes again, to hear his laugh again, to see his smile. It had been so long; almost three years since he had went into the military. It had been something he had wanted to do for so long. She was weary of the whole thing but she didn’t want to stop him. He asked her to come with him but she couldn’t. Who knew that wanting to be a forensics pathologist would be so hard?

Looking at the television became as more pointless than a blind man watching a sunset. She got up and began pacing around the apartment, checking her watch every nano-second. His plane was going to land around 5pm, he was supposed to come earlier, but he had called and said that there was some problem with a passenger on a plane. It wasn’t his, but it was worth delaying the entire terminal. It was now going on 6pm and the excitement she had first felt on the day he called to tell her he was coming home, made her drunk with happiness.

Busying herself even better, she went into the kitchen and pulled out a Bud, screwed off the top with her hand and drank it strait down like it was water. It mid-guzzle the door bell rang.

“What the…” she said to herself.

Even though it wasn’t heavy liquor, it made her forget sometimes. Even the one of the most exciting moments in her life. It rang again. She walked over to the door, unlocked the locks, and at the moment she turned the doorknob she remembered. The light from the hallway added to the half-lapse of memory. It had been so long, anyone else probably wouldn’t have recognized him, but if it weren’t for those eyes of his, there would be no mistake about it. Her breathing became light and the beer bottle that was still in her hand also became that so. No words came out of either of them. There didn’t have to be words said. The bag that was loosely hung over his shoulder and the bag that was in his hand fell to the floor. Her bottle, the same. They braced each other in a tight hug and kissed passionately that made them both want to cry.

See, there are words people say when they say goodbye and also when they say hello. Tears maybe shed, maybe not. But there were no words they could say to each other but a kiss that said,

“So good to see you, I missed to you so much.”

The End

Unleash hell :-P

My Letter to Chuck

| Tuesday, July 14, 2009

It was 2004. I must have read "Lullaby", "Survivor", "Choke", "Fight Club", and "Invisible Monsters" by then. I wasn't obsessed. Imagine if you like, the admiration that Mark David Chapmen had with J. D. Salinger and "Catcher In The Rye".

I'm glad I never mailed it to him.

Dear Mr. Palahniuk,
My name is Christina and I am 19 years old. I came upon one of your books about a year and some months ago and became instantly intrigued. Choke, Fight Club, Survivor (my Favorite one to date) and Invisible Monsters is what I've read so far, I have Lullaby and Diary but haven't had the time due to school and such. But because of you I started reading again, but not writing. I when I was 15 I wrote my "soul" or as I think of it "my introduction of better things to come" (And also became "Dirty" or "Sucia" (the Spanish dirty), it's my author name and still is today. It was inspired by a song and the theme of the story was also the basis. It's not with the letter, besides I've gotten enough "you wrote this when you were 15?" My first 10 good comments were enough, I never want anymore.) and it was the last I could ever write my best. So, I won't try, or plan to, but I will begin writing again. But I have a serious problem, it's not uncommon for writers to write themselves into what they write and that's what I always do. It's....flattering and kind of self centered I've felt with my own work. Why write about myself when I am capable of so many other things?

I wrote a letter some time ago, when I had found out about and then later found out that you don't accept anymore letters, so I forgotten about it and gave up trying. I always dreamed of this, but mostly I would wonder how it felt to receive fan letters, sending them are nerve racking, it almost feels like you're reading it right in front of them and then you feel like you're rambling not making the reader feel indifferent at all. I apologize, I really do. I enjoy and am influenced by your work. You have a very special talent of describing the world as some see it. One day I'll do the same, but maybe just a bit differently.

I'm compelled to mention stresses in my life that has prevented me from writing clearly. I don't like to be punished and assume you don't either so I'll leave out the sob story go straight to the ending, I'm glad I got this opportunity to stumble on to find out I could actually write to you. It is a privilege to know that someone better than myself knows me, or at least my essence for at least a moment. "To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world." One day.


Unleash Hell :-P

I can't even the beginning

| Friday, July 10, 2009

I've been in a very hard spot in my life. Currently I have become very maternal. I can't help but think of the many reasons why I want so badly to have a child. In many ways I think I can't, I guess it's natural.

I've decided to try to rekindle my old habit from 8 years ago. Enjoy what I post, they were the deepest thing to expressing myself to millions of people who never bothered to read them. This is what I can call, my first child.

I'll begin with a poem written...well I don't know when I wrote it. It was definitely written when I was in college. At the time I was 100% dedicated to school. Getting good grades, making my parents proud, and being the most depressed I have ever been in my life (so far). It has no title.

Hit the alarm.
Wake up.
Go to school.
Come home.
I'll help you read between the lines.

Constant sounds, vibrating in my hand
To deaf to hear the real thing,
Too poor to want the real thing.
Feed the bitches and then shower.
Off to school, no one is as focused as I am.
I'm forgetting.
My 7AM is your 9PM.
I need to hear your voice.
I'm forgetting how it sounds again.

I'm welcomed with a turned back when I come to school.
Such a place, and I still love coming to it everyday.
The rashes on my sides start to itch.
Belt marks, the itch reminds me how fat I've become.
The talking, Jesus the teasing.
It's never ending.
The classes are just that, my dream crusher.
Midterms are my weakness.
"She doesn't get enough....She doesn't get enough money....
She died from an overdose"
I picked the wrong time to quit killing myself.

I look like a bum on the train, falling asleep like that.
Going deaf, not hearing the music I have blasting
Let alone my stop
It's what I like the most of coming home.
It might be somewhere else, so much better.
Sometimes I imagine being in so much pain that
No one can hear my cries
Even to the point where my pain is physically visible
No one can see a thing
I think I'm doing good so far, no one has come forward.

So, when I close my eyes tonight
I'll forget today, yesterday and the day before that
I won't even remember this, but I know you will.

Unleash Hell :-P

I haven't!


Been touching base. Clearly, I'm not rich yet.

Unleash hell :-P

Drag Me To Hell, Plz :D

| Wednesday, June 3, 2009

I had the opportunity to watch "Drag Me To Hell" last night. So, here we go.

I'm not going to say who was in it by giving their names and character names because I'm not in a geeky mood right now, nor do I give a shit. Don't take that in a mean way, the movie complied of a very small cast of an old Gypsy, Mexicans, a few white people, a few uppity white people, an Asian guy, and an Indian dude. Oh and a cat and a goat. Ok? we're good? Good.

The movie as it seems is from the same creator/director of some other horror movie that I'm sure you've seen or I've seen. Again my geek blood isn't flowing in 1's and 0's today. The basis of the story was that if you piss off the wrong person, a demon will haunt you until you're good and ripe to drag down to hell. Which is 3 days. Good to know!

She's so relived

So, instead of going line by line, scene by scene, explaining the main characters plight in all this hell borne madness, I will just point out the funny/really? scenes.

It begins with an emo used to be lard eater who can't stand up for herself or to her shitty boss at her very good job. She's got a great boytoy with a crazy mother who doesn't want him to date trash. So get hear this now ladies and gents, being a banker (including a teller) is trash to parents of a son who is a Psychology professor. You heard it here first if you didn't already know.

So Emo Supremo is given the opportunity to do something that would get her in the seat of Assistant VP at her bank, and do to that is to tell an old (and possibly already dead) gypsy woman that the bank will have to take her house because she's a shitty bill payer. So the old lady flips out and waits for the girl IN HER CAR and freaks her the fuck out by beating her up and gumming her chin. I wish I were kidding.

So now she's cursed by owning a button. Really? YUP! And from there hilarity ensues! She hears voices, goes to a Psychic guru and dies anyway. I can't even begin on the stupidity of the demon. It's a soul eater who wants nothing more than her soul. I mean what else could there have been? A gift card to starbucks? During a seance, it was summoned transferred through 2 people and 1 animal. First in the summoner, where it spit when it spoke, lashed out it tongue and some other demon nonsense. Then it was transferred to a goat and it called her a bitch. A goat called her a bitch. Then lastly it went in to the summoners assistant, where as it hovered in the air, it danced a jig because it just KNEW it was going to get it self a soul sooner than it though. Wow. Greatest movie making known to man since Troll 2.

I have to end this here, I really don't have anything else to add. My final thoughts, even though I made fun of it, I would watch it again. I just wish the bastardization of horror movies were more original and used better actors. It's not fun watching someone who isn't scared for their lives anymore. Bring back Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Friday the 13th when people knew what it meant to be scared. Either those or any Nickolas Cage movie, I cry every time I watch one.

Unleash Hell :-P

Ask me if I care

| Tuesday, May 26, 2009

There are so many professionals in this world who professionally look like they are busy 100% of the time. I've only succeeded 80% of this. I've got a lot of learning to do.

I'm trying to recall the accounts of the weekend...let us begin with Friday, the 22nd of May.

Time is relative. So lets just say it was the afternoon. A college friend of mine picked me up from the train station and went back to his place to eat a little and watch a movie. Before the movie we waited for a 3rd to arrive. My Irish Princess and drinking buddy. We watched John Carpenters "The Thing" until another appeared and watched the remainder of the film. Shooting the shit as usual, we waited for another until we headed to the bar.

The night started out slow, but I began hard with Southern Comfort and Coke. Then a Malibu and Cranberry. Then 2 beers, Bacardi and Coke, and another beer. Oh and a free shot from a 30-something old chap with male pattern baldness who was happy to treat us all to Jägermeister to celebrate his birthday and our acquaintance (I assume). The night ended nicely, I sobered up the old fashion way with a romp in the bed with my future significant other at his place. I dare to say that it was the most fun I have had in a long time? Dare I say.

I recall little things from the night, I will gather them in list form.

* Donald Sutherland played in a movie called "1900" or "Novecento" where he head-butts a Communist kitty.
* I made out with my drinking buddy for $1 (I didn't forget this, I just didn't mention it above)
* I smoked more than I have ever socially smoked in one sitting, this was elevated due to the fact we were on a patio drinking. Best thing to ever happen to me.

That's all really from that day, I was just so happy to be with my friends. To drink and have a good time like we used to.

The Weekend:
These days were full of sleeping and drinking. Other activities occurred but I prefer not to mention what they were.

Memorial Day, Coming back Home:
My mother called me "weird" and "a stranger". They're both true. Then again, how else am I going to say how you look in those shoes? I'm not a husband, I'm a daughter. A 23 and a half year old woman who doesn't like to be interrogated about clothes upon returning from my friends and boyfriend. People who entertain me, people who make me happy in this life. I have no privacy so it's left under the assumption I like to be bothered every moment of the day when I step foot in the house.

I was born into a life of no privacy. Now I yearn for it. More than you could ever imagine. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

Unleash Hell :-P

This gets a little weird

| Thursday, May 21, 2009

I'm having a "Grinds My Gears" moment. In my office, a commercial (in mute) aired. It was about preventing forest fires. Of course Smokey the Bear was in it. And it occurred to me (as I'm sure many, many times before) that Smokey the Bear wears pants.


You mean to tell me a bear wearing Big and Tall brand Wrangler jeans with a Champaine Felt hat and a shovel is trolling around the forest to catch your ass in the act of a pyrotechnic EPIC FAIL? I don't know why people haven't gotten the point up to this day that a semi-clothed hairy mammal is on the look out for people who don't uphold on the law in the woods, obviously where he shits. So I guess that's more than means to protect it.

I for one would not start any kind of fire in the woods because I live in Brooklyn.

The matter that grinds my gears is that HE CARRIES A FUCKING SHOVEL! How does that not up the ante on the threat level that's already proposed? "If you DON'T prevent forest fires, I'm going to bludgeon your skull into mush and bury you in the forest that you just tired to burn to the ground with your battery operated hot-plate."

Sometimes, it's better not to think of such things.

And just set the fucker on fire like Chucky and get the hell out of dodge!

Unleash hell :-P

Could it be?

| Wednesday, May 13, 2009

I don't really have much to say today.

I have grown an unhealthy obsession with the song "Rocky Raccoon" from The Beatles. I love the lyrics and the old timey harmony on the piano.

I love something else too. I prefer not to at first annoyed me but then, then everything went in slow motion when the song came on. I admire the fact that we have to be out of our own subconscious to be happy, to feel alive. I dislike what toll it takes.

Just for fun. Really.

Why? Because. Part 2

| Thursday, April 30, 2009

I forgot about Ping Pong Hockey. That was in my dream as well. The field was on an ice rink and all the players had paddles.

It's probably becoming an Olympic sport as we speak.

Why? Because.


From as long as I can remember, I've always had a strong hatred for the word "because". Lets start from the beginning:

Middle English because that, because, from by cause that
14th century
1 : for the reason that : since 2 : the fact that : that

Now, we've gotten a clear definition of this asinine...conjunction let's categorize how it falls into the universe. From our youth and many youths in the past, questions develop that are just too hard to answer. So we go to someone who knows the answers. But that's not enough, dependent on the question there is almost a 95% chance there will be a "Why?" shot back for more answers. Then, it happens. "Because..." Exposure so early to a word shouldn't be used with such beguiling hopes of an absolute refutation. So now we know that when there is a question and an answer is given, it is right because it is right.

Lets skip ahead to pubescent years, the years of rebellion and self-exploration. The years of, quite frankly "not giving a fuck". (*please note, these feelings do extend to early and later adult years. Or for some, their entire lives.) "Because" is wrathfully objected during this time, it 100% of the time interferes in this period. It's used to "fuck up one's shit" on a psychological level. For example, "Why can't I go to Michelle's house (to do drugs and have underage sex without you knowing)?" - Response "Because, I said so." Maybe they can read between the lines, predict the future, or just fucking crazy. Murderous rage congests the young mind at this time and for some time afterwards.

It sure did mine.

But that's not the point of this. I rambled on in this context that I steered away from the real reason of this tantrum.

I had a dream this Thursday morning. I arrived back from a journey I have no recollection of. Coming home, I was happy to see my boyfriend; it had been some time since I'd seen him. Upon my arrival it was announced that he was currently with another, and he himself was with child. Yes, like that Schwarzenegger movie minus the science and the utter ridiculousness. I too was confused with this situation. Even more so when we had sex, I didn't know what the hell to do. Afterward, a group of..."people" including him and myself went on some sort of adventure. I cannot go into details of where or what we were looking for, in the end I had to secretly depart. I was caught by a fellow journeyman as I was making my leave asked "Why?" and all I could say was, "because..."

I was so hurt and confused that I was hyperventilating in my sleep, craving a cigarette.

Why did I dream of the man I love with another and pregnant? Because.


| Monday, April 20, 2009

Soon, my main squeeze, a co-worker and his wife will be front and center seeing Adele perform live. I am beyond excited at this point.

Recently, I had a dream. The beginning is unimportant because I don't remember it. But I'll fast forward to the part that made me tear in my sleep. I was in labor, my second half was a bit tense to come in and witness the magic so we communicated by cell phone.

I'm pleading and crying, "You don't have to watch, but I want you to come inside." Moments pass and I have the baby while he's by my side. It's a girl. I'm holding her in my arms.

I'm so taken about by the miracle in my arms. So in a room alone, I softly begin singing:

"Tell me to run and I'll race,
if you want me to stop I'll freeze,
and if you are me gonna leave, just hold me closer baby,
and make me crazy for you.
Crazy for you."

I awoke in tears because that had to be the cutest thing I have ever dreamed in my life.

Music Sometimes Makes the People Come Together

| Wednesday, April 8, 2009

I'm in the middle of a film called "Control", a documentary of the English post-punk band Joy Division. I gotta tell you, I really like it.

For those of you who don't know (neither did I until I heard "Love Will Tear Us Apart", which I heard for the first time in another movie called "Series 7: The Contenders". A mock film making fun of reality TV shows. And as well at the time, I thought it was The Cure singing it...) this group was at it's peak during the 70s and into the 80s, but tragically ended with the suicide of the lead singer Ian Curtis.

In the film, Ian is portrayed as a wise, risk taker that does what is best for him. He knew what he wanted and worked effortlessly to get it. His songs were deep, poetic and expressed his and your feelings in every surge of electricity shot out of him on stage.

My favorite song by Joy Division would be a scene in the recording studio, and he sang:

"Mother I tried, please believe me.
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things that I've been put through,
I'm ashamed of the person I am...
Well if you could just see the beauty,
these things I can never describe.
These pleasures away with distraction.
This is my one lucky prize. Isolation."

The rest of the story can be read on Wiki to how his life met a tragic end at such a young age.

I for one cannot describe what it was like to be in his shoes.

So, enjoy some Joy Division

At the end of the rainbow

| Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Life, though I am not one to talk about it, has passed me by and has left a scar so deep that I could not even explain. I have a selective memory, some may call it that. I call it 'being able to live with myself for the mistakes I've made". Some were large, many were small. But now it's beginning to affect my everyday life. I'm at a point where I've forgotten what I ate the previous day, what I did the previous weekend, and what I was in my other life's. I consider my previous life's to be the early stages of my life. And I barely remember them.

I cannot make this any clearer, I am not alone in this. I will be sooner or later. Will I remember?

And now for the main event:

There are some things you just can't miss


Well, shall we?

I've just gotten through watching a movie called "The Adventures of Mark Twain" and I gotta tell you it's very good. I for one did not grow up reading his works nor the theatrical versions of them, but I digress. This claymation feature starred Huck Finn, Tom Sawyer and Sally Phelps who stowaway on Mark Twain's air balloon/rocket/boat thing that is going en chase of Haley's Comet for the soul purpose of ending his (Twain's) life.

*GASP* OMG you mean to tell me a Mark Twain, one of our most literary genius' of all time wants to kill himself by flying into a Comet? And bring 3 innocent (fictional) children with him?!

Well, yes. But not really.

Along the way Twain expresses his deep love of life and the fading in which caused him to make he decision to chase Haley's Comet. Crack-pot? Maybe. Depends on your perspective. The Diary of Adam and Eve, The Mysterious Stranger, and another about a friend of his going to gay three-headed alien heaven (accidentally) come up. *I personally love the "Mysterious Stranger", the story of the Angel Satan. Not really one for the kids, but a goodie.

In closing, I deeply love this movie because of his wisdom. Though it maybe fictional or not, I loved every minute of it. It's really old. I doubt you can find it at the video store but have fun looking it up.

Here are a few clips via Youtube:

The whole movie is there too! view_play_list?p=EFF42B92EBD8C2AB

And please...Vote for me!! It's free to sign up :)
My site was nominated for Best Entertainment Blog!

I got it!

| Friday, April 3, 2009

I've decided to go with Mister Mister "Broken Wings" I loved that song in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.

I just hope it wakes me up!!!

And just for you...


| Monday, March 30, 2009

If Albany can snub their noses and make the MTA increase the fares, I think they should also extend weekends. Hell, it doesn't even have to be Albany! I want the same people who changed Daylight Savings time to a later date, fucking up my sleep schedule. So, just to make up for it I think weekends should be extended to 5 days a week. Making it 2 days a week people work. 24 hour shifts and it can only be back to back if the person is willing and with 4 hour lunch breaks each day.

I find no wrong in this. It's 40 hours. Take it or leave it.

I got sleep in my eyes

| Wednesday, March 25, 2009! This is a song I have sung for some time now. I mean I get enough sleep and eat..ok..foods but there is no reason for this. I HAVE to change my alarm clock song! I've grown tired of "The Final Countdown" from Europe :(

Any suggestions? Bah! Who am I asking?! NO ONE READS THIS!!

Anyway, I thought I would make a review. I came across The Lonely Islands "Incredibad", their debut album. First off I, wasn't too impressed. I have been watching SNL for years and been on and off of the viral video scene on the internet. My aquaitence with The Lonely Island came and went. And just yesterday when I was surfing iTunes I see an album of there's is on sale (for $11.99), I see all the songs and the most popular is "I'm On A Boat (feat. T-Pain)....Youtube has it's Ups (downs because it FUCKING banned me)...but I digress.

Hilarious! And a great cruise song pointed out by my b/f. Needless to say, I got the album moments later on iTunes. But if you're not into that you can get it some other way, I really don't care.

So check it out, The Lonely Island and...

Liddy...Such a Cutie

| Thursday, March 19, 2009

I would totally have this man babysit my children. He actually said this, "The bonuses have brought death threats, including one that said executives and their families should be executed with piano wire around their necks." Obviously you take offense to that, but the way he said seemed like he wanted to to the job himself!

Regardless of what you may think, I would hit that.

Maybe, Maybe Not

| Monday, March 9, 2009

I gave a waitress an $11 tip, I hope I made her day.

If I were a rich man


Bah humbug. An hour makes a difference! I got to spend that extra hour with him last night, that was nice. It's a challenge staying up right now though.

I can't stand how much I'm tolerating this place. I don't even know where to begin. I just want it to end. Now.

I Get This Way

| Wednesday, March 4, 2009

AH! I knew what else I saw this weekend. It was called "The Legend of 1900"...really f-in' good. SEEAUT!

The Sound and The Fury


This isn't a title for the 1965 classic starring Julie Andrews and the 1978 B-horror movie - it's a book. Yes! Isn't that great! I've just begun it and I have to say is it a page turner. It's been a while since I've been in English 101 so the literary techniques are foreign to me. I will keep you posted!

Anyways, I have to get on with some other business. I saw quite a few movies in the past days. Juno, Knocked Up (again), Slum Dog Millionaire, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (which I loved) and probably something else that I really didn't care for. All of them were awesome. I just don't feel like talking about them right now. Sorry for the disinterest.

My mind is zapped to hell from watching Lost and 24. I need my ounce of governmental island stranded crack-cocaine every now and again. And do you blame me?

The IMAD Experience

| Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I reflect back and realized that I should have written down the rest of my dreams. I had a weeks worth of Stephen King novellas! Who other than Louis Carol put his dreams into a novel? I don't know or care but it could have been me!



| Tuesday, February 17, 2009

I just want to introduce myself.

That's it.

(It's the same person!!)

I'm SO Glad that's finally over


I have been through whirlwind of emotions for the past week, resulting in the most disturbing dreams I have ever had. Everyday. For 7 days I have had dreams about zombies, werewolves, child molestation by priest, having children, supermarkets, and etc. I had a vivid account of all of them at one point, but I had a binge drinking weekend to forget those dreams.

Sometimes it's better to forget.

If only....Was nothing at all

| Thursday, February 12, 2009

I just sat in silence for the past 30 minutes from an argument. I can't reveal what it was about or who it was with, but no one is given a choice in life. The right to choose what they're born into, choose what starter schools they go to, choose their friends or the lack there of.

In life there is no winning no matter how much you scream at the top of your lungs.

The other person just knows they're always right....because they choose to be.

Was it all just a dream?

| Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Well, yes. It was a dream. What else would I call it?

The first one I really don't remember much of. It was Nick Carter and Paris Hilton having sex. I totally saw boob but it was mostly obligatory shots. She as on top of him , but they changed positions for him to be on top. He was kissing her and at that moment I saw this HUGE cyst on his tongue, and I mean like the size of a marble. After a few moments of noticing this it exploded in her mouth. They stopped. She didn't really know what was going on. He started to squeeze his tongue to get the rest of the puss out. Yea...

The second dream was the most disturbing.

I was in a house that I've never been in with my fiancé, we were dressed for bed. We were in a dimly lit room. I think it was about ankle high with water. I remember showing him some lines on the walls to how far we could have raised it. We got up and started to walk around and in the dark we saw this orange glow in the hall way. I started floating in the air like a ghost or someone carrying it about it with a fishing wire. Regardless we were genuinely scared. I had my arm around his neck as we walk toward is moaning. He soon disappeared and I went walking around the house again. I saw a boy, roughly in his teens in a big oversized winter coat and a black hat on. I kept asking "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He didn't answer. I then turned to see that the front door was open, and asked him again the same questions. He still didn't answer me. I looked over to my left and saw a little boy, 10 or so saying, "I'm gonna be late mom". And then he walked out the door. Shocked by this I saw my fiancé come down the hall walking toward me smiling, so happy to see me. As he was walking, I never took my eyes off the other kid. When my fiancé walked over to embrace me, I asked the kid, "Am I your mother? I must be your mother." All the while I'm holding my fiancé in a warm loving hug, so close I could feel him. My last words were, "Have a good day at school, I love you."

Then I woke up.

Great! Now I won't have to buy him a gift!

| Monday, January 19, 2009

Jeeze, work can be so boring. My weekend life is much more exciting, much more worth while. I've come to realize that no matter how much I watch movies (or the way I obtain them) they still suck ass.

For example, I watched "The Strangers" - a couple in the middle of nowhere are terrorized by a retarded trio of KIDS who couldn't figure out that drowning kittens would have the same effect to feed their thrill. I guess some exchange of sex or blood or something was part of the deal for them to do what they did. I really don't care. I just think sometimes I'm proud to be a minority, I wouldn't have let it escalate the way it did and the movie would have ended in 30 mins.

But there are some jewels out there. For instance, "Taken" with Liam Niesson was AMAZAING! I mean, sadly we all don't have fathers and/or close relatives that work for the government that attain specail skills. Very sad. Anyway it would come in handy. I mean if I went to Europe and was kidnapped and sold into prositution, I would never be found. You know why? Because I don't have a father who can shoot first and ask questions later.

Movies sure do make you think.

Whoa Sheriff! We just missed it!

| Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Hoooyea, a new year. Same bullshit.

This year, I decided to become truely addicted to something. And I have. I am ashamed to say, but it's fun to do at the same time.

Anyway, I won't be skinner from it so you can cross that guess off the list.

Change is gonna come, oh yes it is.