Sunday, 08 November 2009

  • I'm going insane.


    No, stop that. That's impossible, look how much crap you're on. It's quiet. Inside. I'm not sure I like it, but I've gotten used to it. I'm not sure this is any better, but I've... gotten used to it. The tension and paranoia is gone, as is the rumination. But so is everything else and I'm frightened. To be honest I'm barely functioning, mentally and motivationally. I feel mobile but comatose. I can't think straight. Or I've been thinking too straight. Either way, the change is noticeable.

    Well.

    I feel content. But I don't feel like taking measures to extend it. I can't put any effort into anything. I've stopped short of my duties. My priorities are very, very jacked up. And it's difficult to remember that I have any, or ever did. I'm tired. I really am. I don't want to do this anymore. I never did and it explains my extreme reluctance to do anything.


    I would prefer the opposite of my current state. Physically comatose but mentally EXPLODING WITH AWESOME! God that'd be the shit.






    "You're extreme."

    Indeed.

  • And now it's 6.


    ......?!?!?!!!???

  • TV Tropes Will Ruin Your Life.


    "Hmm I think I'll go to bed early today, hoho, it's only 1.45am."

    Later...

    "Damn that took a long time. Oh it's 4."


    Maaaaaaaaannnnnnnn.......


Saturday, 07 November 2009

  • I can feel the jelly fluid pumping in my braaaiiinn.

    And I was extremely aware of my long-present braces. I have ceramic and metal. In my mouth. They are not as abrasive to the inside of one's cheeks as one might think, or I'm jaded beyond sense. I don't despise them. They definitely make for an inimitable veeeery in-ter-es-ting sensation. And, and I get to say in a very Ilsa-like, low, enunciated and disclosing manner that when I was fourteen I was "having a brace put upon my teeth."

    I like the way she said it. Very softly and tentatively European. With clarity on the "p" in "upon." Like in "paper" or "panda" or "pedophilia."



    Dot. Question mark?

Friday, 06 November 2009

  • I... I've been reading so much and it just won't end! Why won't it end?! WHY?!! ......................END!!! And I'm not even anywhere near finishing either (eye-thur). Sob.. sooob....

    Reading TV tropes: Ultra. Productive. My favorites thus far are the Disney Acid Sequence, Thirty Xanatos Pileup, Magnificent Bastard (two words: Big Boss \^o^/) and Deadpan Snarker. And You Fail Sex Ed Forever.

    Dear God now I'm reading Metal Gear Solid webcomics featuring the last days of Foxhound. NERD!! I was at Marukai with J, bespectacled with my new spectacles, when he shoved me hard and shouted "NERD!!" and scurried away. I cried and found myself next to the Unwanted Vegetables shelf where they place and relabel all the nearly-expired produce with dirt cheap prices. Oh the humanity. But wait: mushrooms for 69 cents?? Count me in. And a squashy plastic packet of green bell peppers for 55 cents. Oh. Shiet. Well I got excited.





    Um I haven't slept yet and my forehead pains me. Now apply a chaste kiss to relieve said forehead-pain. Assuming you are tall enough BWAHAHAHA.... I really need to get over my height complex: it is, how you say, "not that crazy." What is crazy is the disproportionate amount of short people I hang out with.





    Is my hair long yet? Hurry up oh my gawd! Come on, man, I wanna be a mermaid--hurry uppp! Tch it doesn't even cover my nipples that's pathetic. HOW can I be a mermaid when I can't even cover up the ONLY "inappropriate" body part(s) a mermaid has?? Not covering them is not a solution, I am far to demure and modest and reasonable for that. Heh heh... And I would rather not wear one of those seashell-coconut-seaweed-crab body-floating sea refuse-bras. I.. I hate them D:

    There, there, ViVi... No frowny faces here--OH MY GOD GO TO SLEEP YOU SUCK BALLS



    I want a cookie.. so.. badly...

Thursday, 05 November 2009

  • Mommy I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate you so freaking much.

    Damn my calm medicated mask, she's not afraid of my murderous tendencies anymore. I just sit primly with a blank expression, ears half-listening, bleary eyes, lips pouted. Nonchalant. I lack the pure, unbridled insanity needed to drive her away.

    I once had this look that absolutely hollered, "teetering!! Will slaughter you in your sleep! Also, may salivate on your pillow. "










    God (I've convinced myself) I'm terribly in love with you and I wish you could belong only to me, only, and every time I get to see you, which is not often, I end up giving you this look that says,

    "Look, man, look how much I've been through while you were gone, look what happened, look what you did, why did you leave, I needed you and now I have to pretend I just want you to be happy and I can't even touch you because we've belonged to far too many other people to ever belong to each other."

    My eyes needlessly fill with tears and I bury my face into your shoulder / hug you in greeting and half-sob, half-laugh because this is the only time it's appropriate to touch you anymore. I wish I could stand here greeting you for years.



    Yes, I can say all that with my eyes. They're very expressive but I hide them behind my dorktastic glasses now. It's for the better. An unreadable expression accompanied by incredibly thick glasses glinting mysteriously in the light has always been... hilarious.






    Eh don't worry this shit happens to me all the time. It just means I can get over it even faster than the previous times. Move along, come on, nothing to see.

    Heartbreak? Bah! Pussy shit. I've got a callous against that kind of crap as big as a malignant tumor.

Wednesday, 04 November 2009

  • My favorite kind of humor is sarcasm.

    This is why every time Kyouji would "shoot" me, I would stumble half-drunkenly in the street groaning in agony, making all sorts of noise, clutching my sternum/gunshot-wound and peering up at him from my prostrate position on the ground and whisper, "Kyouji... doushite?" Eyes brimming with tears, I collapsed limply and uttered a very convincing death-rattle.

    Dude I barely knew the guy and we had a huuge language barrier. Also I had to apologize for making him puke at the izakaya the other night. Also, every time I saw him and Albert and Chad and Jin, I would use their appearance as an excuse to wander into every conbini we passed and purchase a chu-hi (shochu-highball) JUST BECAUSE I COULD and drink it in the street JUST BECAUSE I COULD. So needless to say, I was pretty much trashed all the time.

    Thus, our favorite thing to do was play "shoot and die." All melodrama.


    I'm pretty sure I made his day.

  • I don't make any sense.

    Must be the drugs. OR LACK THEREOF?!

    D: <~~ I am distressed.







    No. I feel decidedly numb. Though I still can't concentrate on doing the simplest of things, such as... you know, moving. I'm still "poopy" enough to not want to do anything, ever, but recovered enough to not find myself revolting for it. I don't dwell on anything anymore, I forget almost instantaneously and cease to care with a roll of my eyes. You stop that, your face will stick that way.

    I don't cry anymore. I don't abuse myself as seriously anymore. I've forgotten everything. What is it to be passionate about something? I don't care.


    Shouldn't have quit. A habit is a habit.


    Is this what it's like to be normal. Empty head, lost self-awareness, average perception, loss of sensation, clench your eyes shut and no more of those frightening closed-eye visuals. Dead imagination. My ears still ring but I can ignore it now. Things are bland without that enduring ache. Nothing feels right unless I'm in horrible, throat-wrenching, vision-blurring, mind-shattering pain.


    Eh. I'm okay with it. Do do doo~~~






    I like it better when I was... but that's what addiction is. "Liking shit better" than your status quo. Oh, it's always better. You'll miss it terribly. So yummy. Soooo yummy.... I want to bathe in it. Wallow in it. Snort it, lick it, writhe in it, dig my nails into it, rub it into my skin, all over my face--GRAAAHHH!!! So gratuitous.

Tuesday, 03 November 2009

  • "What do you want?"

    "Nothing." Everything.






    I enjoy heirloom tomatoes. And white peaches. And persimmons and mangosteen and dragonfruit and dates and papaya and watermelon and bananas and grapes and sugar snap peas and carrots and gala apples and limes and white nectarines and enoki mushrooms.





    I feel strangely.. stagnant. Empty. Violently unhappy, but very able to not acknowledge it anymore: WHEW.

    I've been sleeping a lot, and on a ridiculous schedule--something like 12 hours, awakening only when my west-facing window starts to heat up uncomfortably when the sun sets and projects directly into my room, rendering the wooden blinds stupidly useless. I awake on my own, not jarred awake anymore, and soaked in sweat. Orange-colored room. Fuck California. Half-lucid dreaming fantastically, but the dreams are more like unwarranted, modified and combined re-writes of memories.

    An old paramour and an old friend caught together, completely unrelated in reality, but in my dream I screamed at him to get out of my (grandparent's) house. I have never held any hostility towards him or her. I don't know where it came from. Maybe, because betrayal is a familiar thing for me, it's just projection onto something raaandom. Or I keep having dreams about guys with dark features--now that I think about it, yes my dark-featured old friends and old flames have been very prominent in my dreams as of late. Hmm.. why so coloring-oriented, ViVi..

    A common theme for me is "why didn't you want me." Usually I answer myself: "Uh. Whatever." And go play.


    Playing is my favorite activity.







    I miss... oh fuck it.







    "Terra! What did you do to her?!"

    "Nothing she didn't want me to...

    :DDDDDD

Monday, 02 November 2009

  • Dude I'm so into older men.








    I think that means I have issues. Oh no! Not issues!

    At least I'm not doing that.. that thing where insecure girls sleep around maniacally to make themselves feel whole or wanted or some shit. Like Terra and Deathstroke, ah! Was that a WTF moment or what? I was watching the newer Teen Titans remake of the Judas Contract on Cartoon Network, which was decidedly less WTF than the original "hi this is total statutory" version in the comic but equally... questionable.

    I dunno that whole master-apprentice, older-younger, taller-shorter, EVVIILLL-innocent thing has always been a topic of great giggle-worthy appeal for me.



    I'm fascinated with dominance and submission and authority. And weird, twisted, very psychological relationships. Though I think if I were to ever enter one, which I have, I wouldn't be able to play along and I would just get fed up and roll my eyes and drop it with a little sniff, which I did.

    I am way too sarcastic for that kind of manipulation / drama / irrationality: "You belong to me." OH OTAY MISTER :D OR, no one is dominant enough to tame me--HOHOHOHO!!

    Dramatic relationships are for pussies. But fun, and worth a coupl'a laughs.




    Well. I like to read comic books for their fucked-up-ness, of which there is plenty. But I just keep getting confused and wanting sit myself down and throw up.

    I think I like the new childish cartooony remake on Cartoon Network better than the original comic. Slade is more like "bitch, please" and Terra is more like "sob, sob yes, Master."



    Oooh yeah. So into it.



    Aw man, ew.
  • I am looking forward to Sunday. Metalocalypse AND Venture Bros premiere? Oh shiet. That is a special special day, indeed. That calls for some delicious enjoyable product.

    Oh. The things I enjoy. At once simple, yet wholeheartedly batty.





    I had yet another very ridiculous Halloween with Chris "Trippy" Tripp. I think we were driving for something like fifty years. It was the first time I had seen that much sun in weeks. We parked somewhere in PV-Pedro and gazed blearily at the view.

    We felt fantastically Californian, smoking furiously as we beat traffic on the 405. Then we got lost in downtown and flipped like 50 bitches and visited Loho and one of the Mendoza brothers, not in that particular order.

    Then we discussed our old bad habits and shit started interacting weird again and I had to pull over and let him drive because he thought I was rolling when in fact I merely thought my all of my bones were tingling violently from the inside.



    This guy is truely my mommy. If I ever have any questions about DANGER, he can speak from experience. Though not from as much experience as most people think. For some reason it's been flying around that he's some kind of ridiculous heroin addict, which is bullshit.


    I will defend his honor with my flaming sword. Though I am not the best person to be associated with honor. Or virtue. Or hygiene.


    Puzzled smile.



    Last Halloween was... well... I lived.

Sunday, 01 November 2009

lu_lu

  • Visit lu_lu's Xanga Site
    • Name: ViVi
    • Country: United States
    • State: California
    • Metro: Los Angeles
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 11/10/2002
  • AIM: nocturnerainsong
  • Nicknames: Vivums, Vi-La, Bunny, BiVi, Bijin, Marla Singer
  • Nationality: French, Vietnamese.
  • Religion: Skeptical Agnostic
  • Heroes: Gara. Ethan Shiro. Mermaids. Mr Spock.
  • Interests: Monterey Jack cheese. Miro Lacasse. Cinema. Milk-colored skin. Didier Revol.
  • Expertise: Hedonism. Removing wallpaper. Baking. "Baking." Reading the labels on drugstore toiletries. Body piercing. Insomnia. Green tea ice cream-hunting. Mota tolerance. Making oatmeal. Kleptomania. Finding obscure movies. Not taking myself or anyone else seriously. Keeping my voice low. Driving whilst inebriated. Using too many adverbs. Bunny-care. Accent-imitation. Unnecessary memory-recall.
  • Occupation: Student
  • Website: http://www.facebook.com/vi.la.lai

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