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chris

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(no subject) [Sep. 21st, 2006|10:56 am]
chris
[sound |the cure - lost]

..
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(no subject) [Sep. 19th, 2006|07:31 pm]
chris
Today, at work, I lost my mind completely.

Sometimes customers think I am retarded. Lots of people get the impression that I am mentally retarded. And, I guess, sometimes it makes people feel good about themselves to be kind towards the retarded. So they say soothing, warm, kind-hearted things to me in a sort of condescending way. "You're doing a good job." "You're doing great."

Maybe they're trying to calm me down? The times that they say it, I'm usually in a hurry. There are times I'm pretty frantic at work, especially lately, but I think I've gotten a hold of it. A hold of myself. Maybe? Anyways

I described this to Nat and how it made me feel as though they were prejudging me, that I somehow exude a radiance of retardation -- an odorous stink of stupidity! Like they must think I am very special and that Subway is doing me some kind of favor by keeping me on the payroll in spite of the fact that I probably can't perform my duties as well as everyone else. Like they're doing a civic duty by hiring the retard. And they're doing their civic duty by complimenting the retard on his ability to construct sandwiches.

Now, this is all very paranoid. I know this is not the way it is, but we were just shooting off random dialogue all the day today, bouncing from topic to topic and generally having fun. There's a new girl working and I had given Nat a little ginseng chocolate, plus I had drank a Rockstar, so we were all cracking jokes and acting as rambunctious and playful as geeks and nerds can get.

Nat says to me, "The next time this happens," 'this' referring to the customers complimenting the retard, "you should say, 'THAAANK YOOOOU!!'" He swung his arms low and hunched his back and made a dumb, happy-face like his brains had turned to cotton as he said this, and

I completely lost my shit. I laughed uncontrollably. This is hard to describe. I can't remember the last time I laughed like that. It was an ecstasy. I wasn't at all in control of myself. I was gasping with each laugh and, try as I might, could not stop finding what he had just said funny. It was still funny a minute later and I was still laughing and I had to excuse myself for a minute to the back of the store where I could compose myself and wipe the tears from my eyes. It was then that I really realized what had just happened and started to think about it, still chuckling and giggling -- what had I been laughing at? It wasn't that funny, but it struck a very poignant chord for me. I haven't laughed like that in a long time. I wonder what it was.
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(no subject) [Sep. 11th, 2006|11:04 pm]
chris
[location |bedroom studio]
[color |spent]
[sound |joy division]

People like you find it easy
Naked to see - walking on air *
Hunting by the rivers
Through the streets, every corner
Abandoned too soon *
Set down with due care
Don't walk away - in silence
Don't walk away


I've been having some trouble lately, not like any trouble I've had in a while. The job is really affecting me, and the situation with my parents is really taking its toll. I'm suffering, but I'm doing better today than yesterday and the day before. Its all just turbulence, a rough patch of air that I've got to pass right through. I'm pretty sure I'll be fine. Its just unusual that this is happening now, after so long. I haven't felt this out of control and scared in a long time, since when I first moved out and was living on my own.

I'm not losing my mind as one might think. I sometimes get rather paranoid that the people around me think I'm disposable or that they might replace me. When I intellectually confront the notion of being left out in the cold, of being left alone, it doesn't frighten me anymore, but in the moment I still get emotional about it. I still react in a visceral, irrational way. I'm always just so afraid people will reject me and leave me out to die. Even at work. I know work won't ever fire me -- I'm worth a bucket of quarters, I'm worth a lot to them and they appreciate me. I just get so scared that nobody really loves me.

I'm so in love with the notion of love that I can't see Liz right in front of me.
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(no subject) [Sep. 10th, 2006|06:28 pm]
chris
[color |good]


consciousness is faster-than-light switching technology
transistors exceeding their limitations
the network rising

when your prized possesions
start to weigh you down
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So I'm taking resin hits... [Sep. 10th, 2006|04:44 pm]
chris
...and listening to Ladytron. Liz is asleep because she stayed up all night playing World Of Warcraft. She'll be asleep until late tonight, so I'm all alone and kicked out of my room.

That resin hit didn't do much for me. I should try another.

So, firstly, whenever you're taking resin hits, you probably ought to take out the screen. It works... a lot.......... better.

I'm bummed that Liz is asleep in my room, mainly because all my stuff is in there and I want to bang on my new synth. Oh! My new synth! Its my baby! Its a Roland D-50 circa 1987. It has this really great sound, kinda like a Sega Genesis, only with much higher fidelity. The only bummer is that you can't twist knobs in real time like with a 303 or my other synth, but it generates much fattier, wobbly, analog sounds than anything I've ever personally owned. I haven't really gotten the complete hang of it yet, but I will eventually.

Man, this Ladytron record is fucking awesome. Have you guys ever heard this song "Playgirl"? Its like the sluttiest, dirtiest, Euro-est house I've ever heard. Like that Black Box tune "Ride On Time".

Kurt is a raver. Pidgeon is bored and needs a ride to SF. I'm looking up Pho on Wikipedia. WE'LL REPORT THE DETAILS AS THEY COME IN!
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more to reality than what you have confronted [Sep. 4th, 2006|11:40 pm]
chris
my fear is that we're on the brink of catastrophic failure as a species. every now and again I read something that says that there are massive changes on the horizon...

I dunno. I sure can't write like I used to. :/
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(no subject) [Sep. 3rd, 2006|10:51 pm]
chris
I miss you terribly
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we are the music makers [Aug. 31st, 2006|07:09 pm]
chris
[location |studio]
[color |bzzzzzzz]
[sound |analog synth]

I should have some music up within the next few days...

as soon as I get Reason or Cakewalk or Ableton I'll be able to record a few tracks.

I just have to get the ball rolling.

I've temporarily given up on getting another job as I am making a comfortable living at Subway for the time being and I've gotten over any perceived conflict with the management there.

I made curry last night. It was some bombass shit.
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(no subject) [Aug. 31st, 2006|02:46 am]
chris
[location |deeper?]
[color |sparks]
[sound |psychic tv]

"What is our condition?"

"The entropy has effected results slightly. Novelty is failing in the projected scenarios. We need to go in deeper." The machine buzzed and moaned as the fan wheezed. "We're looking at a unexpected exception and a recursion approaching in 10 seconds."

He hesitated and winced. Deeper? Than this? He was seeing stars already! How much deeper could it possibly go?

"5 seconds! ..."

"Fine," he stammered, and pushed the little red button.

-------------------+++++++++++++++++++++++-------------------
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(no subject) [Aug. 30th, 2006|12:40 am]
chris
[sound |drexciya]

I am 100% certain that all things remain exactly how they have always been. Today and tomorrow and tomorrow are as perfect as any other day. Your rocket is waiting.

crest-cut
sharp and white like
shark fins and rushing
blasts of


Mom sent me a letter and its in gibberish. She says there's something wrong with her mind, in her brain, which leads me to believe she's trying to say its neurological and not mental. This was at once horror and relief, to know that its not as bad as I thought and it is, in fact, just as bad as I thought.

Will people of this generation have the means to take care of their parents? Will they even try? What will happen to our parents? In the past, people have accepted their parents back into their lives in a reversal of roles with the parent acting like the child. Liz and I both think this is absurd. How can we ever hope to take care of our parents? We're barely in control of our own lives.

I've got a jar by my bed that holds quarters. These quarters get me to work and pay for laundry. The level of quarters fluctuates from time to time, but it always seems as though there's enough quarters in there to get to work and do laundry. If I had to take care of my mother, I don't think I would always have enough. Its taken me this long to get to a point of financial comfort, where I can have nice things. Or the illusion of nice things.

I don't think I can help her at all.
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