song

someone dedicated this song to me... 
great timing.

  Sometimes I wish i could just say it all up front, let it out, be out with it, be done be clean and empty just to get rid of everything of this ..everything.

Blank

I CAN'T SLEEP.

THAT'S ALL.

.

something damn ugly happened to me today.

Something ridiculously simple, but I don't know how to dress all this in words. 

Anyway, things changed in me and nothing is gonna be the same anymore, again.

That's all.

such a paranoid nonsense

THIS SILENCE IS ALMOST PAINFUL, LONG HOURS OF WANDERING SLEEPLESS SILENCE.
I FEEL AWKWARD.
FOCUSING ON FAN'S HISS IS NOT HELPING.

"I FEEL TOTALLY MISPLACED AND I WANT TO RUN TO ANYWHERE POSSIBLE"

CAN I BORROW YOUR FEELINGS? EVEN FOR A NIGHT. PLEASE ALLOW ME...

Do you really think I'm being cryptic?

I feel almost roasted of this burning feeling of shame, feeling the chicken-like taste of disappointment with everyone and everything.

No analogies, plainly, guided missiles of data, served like a dinner at the hawker's or truckers bar.

Almost obnoxious, because I'm shy.

I miss the sound of whistling tea kettle, all I have now is the "automated water boiler". Silent plastic thermos. 

I'm so tired of this silence. 

I'm so tired of this noise that surrounds me with silence at night. 

For real I can't wake up from this day-night sleepwalking on the Moebius stripe of two dimensional time flow.

Highway

My eyes are still hazy, like...what the hell!?

(nothing is on my mind)

and can you see yourself as clear?

I remember the time I could recall everything,

but I can't recall what was it.

How could I forget.

My eyes are hazy, it's a fact.

I was yearning for something, all day. 

No idea what was it.
This is such a weird feeling.
Funny, I realized I yearned for something only now, and its already the day after.
I guess I got carried away.
I like possessive girls, or maybe it's that they like me, either way I feel good with it. 

Makes me feel at peace with everything and with everyone.
I guess I got carried away.

I think I lost my muse on the week's corner.

This probably happened while walking from Sunday to Tuesday, I didn't even notice I'm walking alone.

It's not a specially big loss, I can live with it.

But I'm not really sure I can find a way out.

Now I need a guide dog.

!

she drives me crazy

Apple Tablet.

It's about time we had computers in pill form.

Without prescription.

My Eyes Wants to Sleep...

I want to share with you.
I'm listening to Jeff Buckley almost every day now, specially to this song.
On pictures, my favorite (used to be) town, Paris, I found there my favorite hangout Bistro at Place de La Bastille, my Street of Lonely Walks below Montmartre. Funny that, such weather brings me memories from Paris and my life there, not too happy time of my life. I miss these days. Days of alienation in France, now I'm alienated in Asia...like nothing much changed... funny.

no innuendos. Enjoy the song.
with love (again)
me

A Puzzle or All Flowers In Time Bend Towards The Sun

Lilac wine is sweet and heady,
Wheres my love
Lilac wine, I feel unsteady,
Wheres my love

Listen to me, why is everything so hazy
Isn't that she, or am I just going crazy, dear

Lilac wine, I feel unready for my love
Feel unready, for my love.

 When at the end of a day, I lose myself waking up from this week of two days, when there's only Monday and Friday to think about, when at the end of the day I lose myself again, please don't leave here, even if you think its right and even if you don't really think, please don't leave me here alone in my head. Please.

Jamming Word Machine Gun

firing range.
take position.

It's been a while.

A moment stretched in time.

The emptiness of my life, filled with seconds, random delays, "double cheese", conductivity of handshakes, awaiting, avoidance and ultrasonography of my yesterdays.

Exonerated...yet again? Not this time.

I'm still here, in this stretched moment, that will last for another while or two. I'm still here even though I never thought of staying up so late, here on this planet, for that long. 

This supposed to be only 17 years.

17 years was meant to be ONLY for me. 

For me "due to circumstances", 

for me - lost somewhere in between my mother and father, their fights till death torn them apart, 

for me - to tell you a story, to teach you, to make you see more than I ever saw and noticed these 2 inches far from my long nose, but all what's left was a fable I fail to understand and translate, with my disability of comprehending SIMPLE facts, with my (eternally confused) attempts to communicate with environment, with you, and at last with myself. I still fail at understating feelings, crippled emotions I juggle with every day and when they fall back due to twisted sobriety of my soul, they bounce back on my head with a power of a sledge hammer. 

But at the end of every day, I ONLY feel without knowing without understanding any matter, without inhaling and exhaling love, without eating it with spoon and slurping love soup from the bowl of life. How sad it is... that is, if that's sad anyway.

I just feel, I ONLY feel I f-e-e-l. DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

unlock.

aim.

 

So you think you do have a mission, you feel you were born for a higher purpose, you can feel it, do you, you are different, you can feel you are here because ..OK it doesn't matter because of what or who, lets don't get into details, because you know you are The Chosen One.

fire.

Once there was you, you came you sneaked crouching like a little strained pussycat, with your big short blond thick like bear's fur haystack hair and pair of this Bambi big wet eyes curled with fluttering lashes shadowing your pretty small modeled nose that was there on your face just to pinpoint your killer smile of these lusty beautiful lips you thought and red "PORNSTAR" tee to show your perky bullet shaped bouncy boobies, flat humming belly and super short super tight hot-pants to show off your hips rounded with your over-shaped ass attached to your thighs spelling your silk skinned legs and there was an ersatz of a coffee at Starbucks I didn't feel like drinking just to puff away a moment between one pack of Dunhill and your wide open inviting legs after that jumbo chicken wings i even liked for a moment of the crystal bracelet and emptiness of that place, it was "The LOVe" till death us...and scooter, children we already had planned, a dog, ghosts of the scorched to the bones city, spirits of the past, your insanely jealous possessive checks on me name recalling and smell tests mystical and mythical transcendent lovely perverted awkwardly passionate sexuality soaked in blood and those chicks watching us in admiration and jealousy and envious animosity and yes we never really fucked all those years it was merely a foreplay not lovemaking and Humvee of all unusual because we were so cool and meant for each other and I was the one you were waiting your whole life and there was nothing else you ever wanted and needed and your father gave me a wooden ethnic gift standing now dusty somewhere in the corner of my room with this sprayed by you on his vulgarly carved base scent of lets say Summer by Calvin Klein that lasted for a bit just to turn into hatred somewhere in exotic tropical location with your well acted tears holding my hands in your whispered words that tells well manipulated truths. 

Please stop calling me "hubby" when you feel like you CAN, we never been married. 

Finally I don't feel guilty. 

reload.

tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock

fire!

Once upon a time there was a love. Shaped like Miss Universe suffering of like Einstein's geniality alienation disorder super intelligent outcast sentenced to be cursed with beauty of her face and unreal almost goddess like body and slut like manners of man eater so she was angry because I ignored  her hand and her overwhelming presence stirring boys to fight on erections tensed up by your untouchable out of reach not for them too far too high too hot too handle and I didn't ignore I was just scared of you and also your adoring me for what I was I am, I didn't want to I was right I was there and i knew the future you didn't want to listen to know about you took me by a surprise skillfully directed to happen if that's possible and it happened and lasted for years without ending smeared in days like these one two three four five elements of your never ending fugues and mazurkas of trauma tears and sticking on and not letting go and your lovers and you anger and professional almost process of rejecting them when i found out and your affairs broken into my life my silence my willing presence and lack of sex due to confusion and your tears that i never asked you and I left you because I wasn't alone and there was my Asiatic trip literary perverted girl and I was away with her and you didn't want to accept that there is someone real and I'm not yours only anymore and your feeling to me "slacked" as you said because I was don't know where and don't know why with don't know who named bunga but not that Ipoh Malaysia born element you knew and didn't understand because of my ex and how could I and she was mean you loved her to hug me when you girls were crying instead of cat fights because that was cuter and more complex and most of all I left you alone in this world of Everything and Everyone lame "everything but us" and finally you saw I removed, your name from my family list of contacts oh yes and your family your strangely immature mother and terribly old rude too smart too handle father famous person not messing not going down to us normal people of not enough recognizable VIP status unmarked by some Nobel Prize factor and your tiny room and to lock ourselves from the world and I removed you again from the family list of contacts and you saw that again and because you suffered with that way way years years younger sinfully handsome dude and you wanted me back for your eternal holding me back and your bipolar personality that talked with ghosts that YOU so offended on rhetorically asked bash cheerful happily unaware statement they cast to you you love him that Robbie of yours you liked to explode because who the fuck they are to say to you since you are the most and the only.

jam

So, slacked into we can't be friends anymore which translates into another trauma and I supposed to share with you or to do something but I feel I don't and I shouldn't move even I was tired 

I was 

jammed

I am your friend faithfully I didn't know you loved me you didn't love me when I thought you do then was too late to ask you to be mine from these almost four inches taller head of yours now I deleted your phone number and it tastes like freedom.

hiss.

reload.
wait for the target. 

Now I'm empty, now I'm worn off and alone. I smile to the zombies and dance with disposable paper cups on the sidewalk in between shooting ranges in my head, filling my nights till the very end of my strengths.
Is there any "me" left in me? Hallooooooo? When I turn back into past i see nothing but a void, nothingness. 
You say there's only here and now, there's no tomorrow and no yesterday, you think you are right.
How about Thursday?
Oh and you clicking in pink to me from Chicago, you said you were wrong because I am just like the others, just like everyone, the same, and I wonder, is it good or bad and who are THE OTHERS. Who are they...
Then you said you are worried, and you hope I'm OK, I'm OK I'm always OK I feel I can make it whatever it is, I feel i can, I think I can move my hands and I can walk to another day like I used to do it before, just like... the others?

I'm just a bit scared to call my mother. I ran out of ideas to talk about, not to break her, not to make her ...
on my mark, left window, barrage fire. 

 

 My mother.. cease fire

This isn't right. 

That girl so far and so close to me, she was there, sitting heavily drowned in silence with her hands covering her face and her feelings.

Her useful habit of filling space with sad songs that tells for her, letting it out without spilling a word about being weak and so sad, so damn sad, when only her translucent almost, of cold and humid gentle reddish fingertips were telling the truth of her wet eyelashes soaked with hopes now broken and simply betrayed love... she was loved all this while but she didn't know, it wasn't right it wasn't right the same way it is not right now and this Earth that suddenly happen to be slippery, even this Earth was rejecting her feet. That girl blessed the moments when wind and rain were painting her sorrow on the window glass, she was loved, but she didn't want to know, she wanted her old smelly jacket, her old times her old firm future that wasn't sure nor firm at all. She was loved all this while.

This isn't right that I drink wine at 7:30 am and it isn't right that I want so much to finally press the button PUBLISH POST, but it is right that I will let this out.

...So you think you do have a mission, you feel you were born for a higher purpose, you can feel it, do you, you are different, you can feel you are here because ..OK it doesn't matter because of what or who, lets don't get into details, because you know you are The Chosen One...

Even if you are chosen to duck away shots on the firing range.

I will love you till the end, no matter who you are.

over and out.

 

sex [without (with-out) love(luhv)]

Internet Dating Service

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Sex with robots seems a logical evolution. But what about relationships?
Relationship with robots seems a logical evolution. But what about children?
Children mended in factory seems a logical evolution. But what about us...
 

(...) What sexual position do you like the most?
What is your hobby?
What are you doing in your free time?

Sex.
1.
a. The property or quality by which organisms are classified as female or male on the basis of their reproductive organs and functions.
b. Either of the two divisions, designated female and male, of this classification.
2. Females or males considered as a group.
3. The condition or character of being female or male; the physiological, functional, and psychological differences that distinguish the female and the male. See Usage Note at gender.
4. The sexual urge or instinct as it manifests itself in behavior.
5. Sexual intercourse.
6. The genitals.

The Fifth Element? O.o
Well title says sex not coitus ([koh-i-tuhs] -whispers crowd)

What actually sex is all about? if not procreation if not only procreation if not only pleasure
Why making love means "fuck", why fuck means "damn it" and why everything gets so fuckin' simple. .. no, wait it's getting stupid, shallow (sic!).
Who made a first mistake...
Those kinky? I'm kinky i do make a hell lots of mistakes, but it wasn't me, I'm sure, neither it was you.

Below place for  Broca's area of Miss N's brain:

Asparagus Horoscope or Getting Rid Of Bees

I miss winter, I miss real snow so damn much.

Robbie: you know i have semi self cured*(edited) Asperger syndrome,
xxxx xxxx: sound like asparagus
Robbie: lol yeah
xxxx xxxx: so r u tasty?
Robbie: dunno =.=
xxxx xxxx: try, go bite yourself
xxxx xxxx: then u can tell
Robbie: not bad =.=
Robbie: but painful
xxxx xxxx: i taste like lavender when i bite my hand coz i washed my hand with lavender soap just now
Last message received on X/XX at X:XX XX
Robbie: I taste like..dunno..not lavender..it's sweet and ...nice? actually..nice
Robbie: but painful
Robbie:I bit my forearm

Asperger syndrome is an autism spectrum disorder, and people with it therefore show significant difficulties in social interaction, along with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior and interests. It differs from other autism spectrum disorders by its relative preservation of linguistic and cognitive development. Although not required for diagnosis, physical clumsiness and atypical use of language are frequently reported.

A pervasive developmental disorder, Asperger syndrome is distinguished by a pattern of symptoms rather than a single symptom. It is characterized by qualitative impairment in social interaction, by stereotyped and restricted patterns of behavior, activities and interests, and by no clinically significant delay in cognitive development or general delay in language. Intense preoccupation with a narrow subject, one-sided verbosity, restricted prosody, and physical clumsiness are typical of the condition, but are not required for diagnosis.

Unlike those with autism, people with AS are not usually withdrawn around others; they approach others, even if awkwardly. For example, a person with AS may engage in a one-sided, long-winded speech about a favorite topic, while misunderstanding or not recognizing the listener's feelings or reactions, such as a need for privacy or haste to leave. This social awkwardness has been called "active but odd". This failure to react appropriately to social interaction may appear as disregard for other people's feelings, and may come across as insensitive. *(I wonder... hmm not really in my case but I might be wrong)

Because many autistics find it easier to communicate online than in person, a large number of online resources are available. Some individuals with autism learn sign language, participate in online chat rooms, discussion boards, and websites, or use communication devices at autism-community social events such as Autreat. The Internet helps bypass non-verbal cues and emotional sharing that autistics find so hard to interact with. It gives autistic individuals a way to communicate and form online communities. Conducting work, conversation and interviews online in chat rooms, rather than via phone calls or personal contact, helps level the playing field for autistics.

 Three aspects of communication patterns are of clinical interest: poor prosody, tangential and circumstantial speech, and marked verbosity. Although inflection and intonation may be less rigid or monotonic than in autism, people with AS often have a limited range of intonation: speech may be unusually fast, jerky or loud (or unusually quiet like in my case). Speech may convey a sense of incoherence; the conversational style often includes monologues about topics that bore the listener, fails to provide context for comments, or fails to suppress internal thoughts. Individuals with AS may fail to monitor whether the listener is interested or engaged in the conversation. The speaker's conclusion or point may never be made, and attempts by the listener to elaborate on the speech's content or logic, or to shift to related topics, are often unsuccessful. HAHAHAHAHa-a-awww...poor you :P


People with Asperger syndrome often display behavior, interests, and activities that are restricted and repetitive and are sometimes abnormally intense or focused. They may stick to inflexible routines, move in stereotyped and repetitive ways, or preoccupy themselves with parts of objects. (keys or lighter or phone, right Lily? :P)

Communication and social problems often cause difficulties in many areas of an autistic adult's life. A 2008 study found that adults with ASD commonly experience difficulty starting social interactions, longing for greater intimacy, a profound sense of isolation, and effort to develop greater social or self awareness.

 Phew~ enough..but you have some idea now :)

My famous friends of misery:

• Writers – Hans Christian Andersen, Lewis Carroll, Bruce Chatwin, Arthur Conan Doyle, Herman Melville, George Orwell, Jonathan Swift, William Butler Yeats, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett.
  
• Philosophers – A.J. Ayer, Baruch de Spinoza, Immanuel Kant and Simone Weil.
• Musicians – Bela Bartok, Ludwig van Beethoven, Glenn Gould, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Erik Satie.
• Painters – Vincent van Gogh, L.S. Lowry, Jack B. Yeats and Andy Warhol.
  

Albert Einstein, Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin,  Nikola Tesla, Adolf Hitler, Thomas Jefferson, Ted Kaczynski (Unabomber), Stanley Kubrick, Jeffrey Dahmer – serial killer... well, check it out here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/People_speculated_to_have_been_autistic

So..try to love me now :)

With love, yours truly,

Famous Blue Coat