c to d (tower of london version)

D,

I assume that you will probably receive my text message before you read this, but if that isn't so "I am back in New Jersey." Exausted and feeling a bit like I smell of airplane but overwhelmingly Alive, which is a good thing. It was rainy and my flight was delayed, the resulting wait wasn't as bad as it could have been however and I was much releived. Once in the tiny airplane I came to the realization that there was only myself and twelve other passengers. I sat alone with not one single person in sight and since I had my book and my journal this suited me fine. The flight felt longer than it's 50 minutes but we did fly through a storm and I must admit it was pretty thrilling. I could look out the window and in the flashes of bright white light that mark the wings of the plan for others see the raindrops miles before they hit earth seemingly suspended by the strobe. It was really fantastic, I wish you had seen it. It was a like a sneak preview of these little drops that hadn't reached the earth yet.

My family seems well. There is now a cheerleading bumper sticker on the car. My sister is more like my mother every day. I feel strange and old here like I don't quite belong. I am wearing stupid pajamas. You'd laugh if you saw me. They are warm though. Did you know that the root of "pajama" is persian? It derives from "leg pants." My question is, of course, are there pants that are not for one's legs?

I miss you. I am going to write you another letter on hotel stationary. If I meet Alan Moore I'll tell him not to let anyone make his comic books into movies. Especially Watchman. I wish neil gaiman still lived in london, I could sit outside his house chanting his name and asking him to teach me his ways of writing wave to him.


I'm Exhausted, and I found my pocket edition of Dracula.


Yours,

Chris

shut up

no one's impressed you fuckwit.

Haloween!!!!!!! IS COOOOMING

When I was little I desperatly wanted to be Morticia Addams, because I mean damn she speaks french is a botonist AND can take on Gomez in a sword fight. I asked if I could be her for halloween and my mother suggested that I be Wednesday instead since the Morticia costume would be hard for people to know what I was. I was indignant and said that I just needed a dress like hers. "The one that makes you like this!" I said and then proceeded to outlines a tiny waist and large hips. My mom had a hard time explaining to me that it wasn't the dress, that it was just the way Morticia was. I was crushed. I was a nun that year and for 2 years after it.

weirdest 5 year old ever.

Guys, Dumbledor was Gay.

Weird

http://www.eonline.com/news/article/index.jsp?uuid=c2b40da2-2406-4e8f-bc89-6fc11d1b0e41

I guess I thiught of him asexually...like merlin or gandalf. I guess merlin was a little sexy.

hmmm. I'll have to think about this

I can't help but think that this reminds me of my whole school

I wake up absolutly terrified some mornings. Shards of nightmares lie on my pillows and keep trying to consume me whole throughout the day. It's this nagging awful feeling in the bottom of my heart. Weights around the ankles the whole thing. The thing is thats even heavier than that is that it's become glaringly obvious that I don't relate well to people. Even with people that I consider friends I consistanly feel distant and pull away from the group. Maybe it's a combination of being anxious and stressed out.

The thing that really gets me is taht I should be happy and well adjusted and all thet crap, but I'm beginning to think that I may be a genuine misanthrope. I dunno, when I feel this down I think that Ponch is the only one who can understand me. Who is Ponch? Here's a journal entry from 18/02/2004. At this point I was on LJ and in a "change the names of my friends" kick, so I keep refering to him as "donald" but it's Ponch.

so tonight i went to a party and i got there pretty late and everyone was drunk with the exeption of zandra who never drinks and donald who used to have a problem with that sort of thing so he tries to avoid it. The moment I walked in I could see that there was somthing bothering Donald, he had that look in his brown eyes, that darkness, the dull pain that somtimes comes into them, crowding that inense caring. All that in warm brown. So I asked his about this place he told me about once, some cliffside nearby where you could see everything for miles, including the New York skyline. He said he really couldn't give me directions but one day he woulsd drive me there. Then he looked thoughtfull for a moment and said "How bout now?" I nodded and we went off, leaving the party very much confused. Climbing into his car I could feel his heaviness weighing on my chest. We sped off into the blackness, 10 miles over the speed limit, and I asked him "Whats wrong, talk to me." And we did, about people and life and his college audition untill we pulled into the parking lot of a church and parked. We walked a-ways and climbed up a steep hill and then, the city, our town and the towns next to it spread beneath me liek a blanket of stars. The sky opened up and extended into infinity and there I was, standing next to this boy surrounded by the most intense beauty that I had ever seen. And I hugged him in appreciation. We stood there and continued to talk and I was SO infinite it was incredible. Then some drunken kids came up there and Donald and I decided to leave. We got in the car and drove back to the party. I wrote a little poem about Donald and then I noticed a little argument break out, apparently a girl Laura was drunk and wanted to drive home, which we wouldnt let her, so I drove her home in her car while zandra tailed us and then I got out of Laura's car and zandra drove me back to my car and I Drove home, calm and happy and hoping that everything for Donald would end up in bliss.

Tonight Donald asked me "Why are you so good to me?" and I told him "Because I like you." I wish...I dont know, he posseses this amazing gentle beauty of the spirit that I never see.







The main theme of this entry is that I feel like shit, and I don't want to write right now and just want to be left alone.

With My Glasses Off

I step out and close the door.
Car headlights blossom like fungi,
growing in size as they pull away
Leaving behind the gentle ache of bitten, dirty fingernails
Try to tell yourself: if there is no kindness and courtesy there must be something.
I am not convinced anymore.
Stop talking about me like I'm a tinfoil valentine.

Mantra.Mantra.

I am not allowed to feel down when things are going fine.

New Baffling Aspects Short Film is UP!

In Which: Oliver Gets His Drunk On, Steals My Camera and bothers sophia, who is asleep.

I really wish I could give these some witty caption but really, Oliver is just insane. I didn't even know that he took all these until i was uploading all the pictures from my camera and they appeared in the midst of photos from the cliffs and of flowers.

He's a real nutcase Oliver, and how Sophia didn't wake up for any of this I'll never know.

Watch Her: Wash

Wifi at the laundromat is probably the coolest thing ever, mostly I think because I really can't be separated from my laptop for too long. Also, I can never read here because of all the noise and madness so if i have to go alone (perhaps because someone went to his parents house hunt zombies for a few days and is therefore unable to be my partner in laundromat excellence)

Anyway, it's been one of those in teresting weeks, busy all the time even though I had a few days off and generally sequestering myself in the house, helping one subletter move out and our permanent roomate steph k move in. Sophia (our other roomate who has been away moost of the summer acting in the Voices Project, some vermont teen movie that has little to do with teens and more about the warm fuzzy feeling that older people get when they pretend to "connect with the youth" but really aren't connecting at all and are mostly just being wankers. All this aside Sophia is a fantastic actress and performer and I'll bet that her parts are the only worth watching.

My bones feel cracky and I havent gone to the gym in so long I'm starting to atrophy. Oh well. I think I'm even too lazy to type out a proper blog entry but I mean, who cares right? I could write anything all here and due to the fact that nobody reads thing (except I think my father found it once and asked me if I was in fact "The Watcher" which I am and I had to laugh because he said it as if her were asking Superman if he were Clarke Kent.

also: the word genre is amazing.

say it with me geeeeeennnnnrrrreeeeee.

Well I quite like your wrists honestly.

we went to the movies
and got vegan Rubins at Elf and Zinny's Stone Soup
we talked about everything
and tried to infiltrate an insurance sales convention
but then my car got towed from City Market.
Which we all now call "Hungry Hungry Hippies"
I got it back
and you went to work
Which is The Skinny Pancake
or sometimes the Sneaky Pancake
or Planet of the Crepes
we call it "The Shitty Pancake" because they pay you nothing and treat you like and idiot

So I cleaned the house
and read some comics

When are you coming over? I have a question about the Green Arrow and the Black Canary.




My friends are weird.