AG Aftermath

There was nothing more devastating than finding out that the poetry project was, essentially, over. My connection with Allen (I can call him Allen now right?) has become deeper, so deep, like the Mariana Trench, I can’t pull myself out. So much, so much admiration, the portrayal of him in various guises (Radcliffe, Franco), they all make me more devoted. This connection was something fabricated by an official project, with a number attached to it, a grade, something quantitative. But know I find the problem of overcoming this vapid need to excel at a school paper, I mean it’s something that I expended many hours developing, but in the end, the paper (and project) didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, because whatever happens, this assignment was a starting point. GROUND ZERO, of my own formulation. Of ideas, my philosophy, moral code, just the ability to express all these is my only obstacle now. Indeed, a powerful opponent, self-improvement will either come gradually, or unbelievably fast. Probably the latter, in any case, come it will. To speed it up, I need to divulge my own self—to the world! Just like Ginsberg, I don’t want to be a “grotesque” creature anymore, skulking in the back alleys of my lucid mind. I have to live this lifestyle, my own beliefs-asserted onto reality. The reverberation will be shocking. I can’t find myself now though, without the help of continued reading, researching, studying, exploration. Even this week, the next—a perpetual stream of journeys into the unknown and specious-knowns. GROUND ZERO will always be this project, the things that came with it, all the stuff, will be cataloged. The information; the bios, critiques, love for this poet. The movies. I don’t know if I’ve become anything other than a fanatic, but the labels don’t phase me. Or maybe they do, “don’t hide the madness”. “Howl” is a prophecy, his legacy, YOUR legacy, Allen, has become eternal. Even so long after your death, a year before my conception, you impact the youth today. Me, someone else, the actors of Kill Your Darlings, the actors in Howl, the people associated with these productions. Lovely people, scattered all over the nation, with hidden faces-not hidden. I feel for their blazing hearts, my yearning heart, to relate and make love, to form relations. For in my societal impression, I am lonely. Inward and outward, these things are the same. So I can make myself happy=? But happiness is overrated (Chris Ware) and life is but a passage between those two doors. Eclipsed with a SLAM or gentle -click-….on the linoleum floor, -click-, -clack-, -click-, -clack-, and the ballet slippers slip slop slide down the corridor. Without a sound, no one knows where it goes-to the street, or out of town. I can’t tell, for I don’t know, this special place, I linger towards.

Intelligent and grounded, these two words stuck out of the five used to describe Dan by Dane. And I could see that. They laughed as the halcyon atmosphere took me in. They talked about Keats, Keats and Vonnegut (Dane’s) and I thought of Shelley. Only because of the elegy-read in KYD. 

and you just breath, it comes easily

it rhymes, or not

with spaces, so like the pie

cherry i feel disconnected, nowhere to go-

but onward

I am a self-saboteur

Finishing was the title of a draft that was never saved because I had no words in it. It was a title of something that was going to be amazing, a whole list of things that I wasn’t finishing, everything that I was either postponing indefinitely or for such a long time it seemed indefinite. I was going to address my problem with procrastination, putting things off for “later”, and this later being a time undetermined, so I effectively place the conclusion in limbo, a place of perpetual illusion. I continue to trick myself into the clutches of my own hypocrisy, every time, every time I convince myself sooo well. And it turns out terrible, I am a self-saboteur, to cite: ROOKIE Yearbook 2, “Giving Up on Giving Up” by Danielle. Simply…Danielle. This article also brought to my attention my tendency to not do things that I want to do. Sabotaging my thoughts before they can turn into reality. Ideas left to fly away in the dust of a endless desert of forgotten pseudo-creations. It’s so sad, so damning. Where do these things go when I forget about them? Purgatory, paradise? These offerings aren’t just for humans, I bet many things wind up in the places of afterlife. But only humans go to Hell. Dante’s Inferno is making it’s way into the mailbox at the corner of my street. The communal mailbox that’s situated in the middle of the block. There I picked up so many things, my Rookie Yearbook, socks, books, other things I don’t remember. Globelamp packages. These things coming out of that plain metal box…

My imagination is tearing me away from relevancy. I can’t sustain coherence anymore, but my mind is making things from the past resurface. Resurfacing into a montage of different voices and sounds, histories remade into possibilities. Shifting, everything shifting like a giant wooden puzzle, cylindrical, and the camera wooshes—-over, down under, over, left, up, down, right, and then turn up and out into the space around the structure. The view is incredible as we stare down at the structure of time. So much like the body of an ancient tree, but married to modern geometric design. I see so many other things, birds, blackening the sky. And nothing more, for the words can not fix into to the puzzle, this puzzle is best left unsolved. 

Thus Spoke Zarathrustra

I’ve finally got my hands on this essential work by Nietzsche, and I feel like I should have started off with this. It’s a novel which is great, it will be entertaining, with a story line and everything! Unlike Twilight of the Idols which is composed of chapters centered on ideas that are expounded on in various sub-postulations. This structure made him much harder to grasp because of the rapid jump from one subject to another. TSZ is succinct and promising if the prologue and introductions hold any merit. The introduction by his sister cites many journal entries, and I lost him in one, so there’s still that complexity and intellectual gap between writer and reader which will make this reading either highly frustrating or revelatory. The prologue, if it is to be of any portent, tells a chronological tale of thematic principles with allegorical situations. Not only that, but the story is told in beautiful and generally pleasant verse. There’s ripe imagery and sensory provocations. Thoroughly enjoying the story and pretense so far, excited for the use of ideas referenced in the introduction by Dennis Sweet; Will of Power, Eternal Recurrence, amor fati, and of course the Superman (already mentioned). The protagonist’s characterization will be interesting to observe, his meditation in the mountains, as an archetypal OUTCAST and/or HERO on a quest, and especially his love for mankind, or more accurately his pity for mankind. I wonder who will accept his wisdom?

age

I was just 14 last year, no one told me when you become old it comes up behind you surreptitiously like a clandestine backstabber and kills you with its rustic blade of tormented time. I wasn’t aware of the state the body takes when given over to the eternal flow of the beast of time. just last year, just last year, just last year, I was so many things, I feel like this time that has past…..encapsulated too little, maybe this comes from my self-isolation from the drama of daily existence, my insistence on a tranquil, but consequently mundane life. 

Movie Marathon 2

Movie Marathon 2!!!

I’m not sure if I should be calling these marathons, I mean each movie is distinct and different from the last, but here are the movies I’ve watched tonight alone:

Donnie Darko (again)

Devil’s Path

Slacker

and last and arguably best: Dead Man…

All of them were amazing though in their own unique respects. Devil’s Path had a nice plot with really cool elements of mystery and a connection at the end that tied the whole movie together, I did skip portions of the movie though. Slacker was just utterly fulfilling, I don’t think I’ve ever watched a film with so many characters, and what’s weird is that even though it jumps around, the characters aren’t shallow, their viable and strong, each person adding to the overall halcyon mood of the movie. If Richard Linklater was trying to convey the amicable environment of 1990s Austin, I think he did it. It provides hope for humanity! Haha, the fact that it’s so casual makes a society like that seem actually possible, I just can’t see that here where I live. That’s why I want to visit Austin…I wonder if it’s still like that? Keeping an eye out for Boyhood, which is getting REALLY good reviews. Anyways, yes DEAD MAN. Film by Jim Jarmusch 1995 with Johnny Depp. The whole story is set in black and white, and the filming fades in and out of blackness with a lot of transitions. This was a hero’s journey, when watching this I couldn’t help but draw on archetypes; Nobody as the Sage, Bill as the Outcast variant of the Hero, Colin Wilson as the Villain and embodiment of evil. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment Bill turns into a killer, and I don’t really know, maybe if I watched it again. I thought at first it was after he went to take a piss, but that doesn’t sound like a very transformative experience, so I’m thinking maybe the night before when Nobody leaves him. All this literary analysis is stemming from Dante’s Inferno, something we’re reading in English right now. Three beasts, three hunters. Rivers, contrasts between Christianity and Shamanistic religions. Bill sharing the same name as the famous English poet William Blake was a detail whose significance I haven’t picked up yet. The wound he has from the bullet that went through Thela is also important. Theme’s of death, the afterlife, corruptive love, greed, morality, and the battle between good and evil. Also character development of Bill is extraordinary. The markings on his face, isolation from both societies (West and Indian), fawn scene with the vertical blood marking….There are also characters I’m not too sure about, like the three people at the campfire, one dressed as a women, the fireman from the beginning, and, well everyone on a certain level, some more than others. 

New Crush

I just had a great cry, shedding tears over gay teen issues and the burden of secrets. ____ is the new subject of my intense emotional whirlwinds, and he might prove to be the most obstinate yet, never have I cried over a boy so early on in a crush. He seems to be equally parts mentally and socially gifted, it’s extraordinary! Watching him interact with gossipy girls makes me feel like Norma Bates watching Norman talk with that rebellious girl. I’m not sure when he entered so prominently into my consciousness, but thanks to it, the last boy has been pushed to the sidelines. This was also partly due to my identification of a flaw in the previous crush. ____ is seemingly inviolable right now in his life decisions, skills, and looks. His shoes have become a sort of symbol for me. The way he buttons up his polos all the way up. His aquiline nose, angled face, and bright eyes. Although his physical appearance is nice, his mental features are definitely the most alluring attribute of him. He has a great standard of morality that includes toleration and open-mindedness. When his multitude of friends become too excessive or prejudice in certain things, he displays an admirable amount of toleration and even corrects them in a completely amicable way. He seems to be able to interact with anyone and everyone, marked by his surroundings which are constantly filled with talkative friends. Even though he is very sociable, he is also reserved and pensive when he needs to be. Watching him take a test is….actually very creepy, I don’t do that. Anyways, I don’t know, but at the same time I do. ___ ____ is an incredible person, I’m just unlucky enough to be the gay creeper to fall in love with him. 

long, lucid memory of its beginning

Well tumblr has ads now, one of them just erased a paragraph of information I was drafting. I think I’m safe now, so lets get on with it. In laconic style, Saturday was short but also long, lucid memory of its beginning and United States of TARA to blame. 

Artists

Marina Abramovic

Ulay

Dmitri Prigov

J. M. W. Turner

Petr Pavlevsky

Robert J. Wilson

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2358891/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/dadacol1/with/7606538120/

Tania Bruguera

Joan Jonas

Valie Export

Tehching Hsieh

Andreas Gursky

Colm Tóibín

Giacometti

constantin brancusi

http://www.studentartguide.com/gallery/facial-expressions

Movies to watch and love

Sharktopus 

Tusk

and it’s sequel Yoga Hosers.

Article about the trilogy:

http://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/aug/20/johnny-depp-kevin-smith-daughters-yoga-hosers-tusk

The Way He Looks….finally, the sequel!

recommended by andreii-tarkovsky:

Death by Hanging