LiveJournal for the happiest days of our lives (b.y.). View: User Info. View: Friends. View: Calendar. View: Memories. You're looking at the latest 14 entries.

Sunday, October 9th, 2005 Time: 2:01 pm. three reasons i still care about living: alex, cody, & phil elverum. Friday, September 16th, 2005 Time: 9:09 am. this is probably the worst i've felt. i am such, such, such a failure. the fact that i feel this way is a sign that i'm selfish and don't care about other people as much as i care about myself. i wish i could un-raise myself and hide somewhere where no one could see. please don't comment or call. Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own. Wednesday, January 5th, 2005 Time: 11:51 am. Just about every rotten thing that's happened to me in the course of my life has been a result of my own egocentricism. I'm only just beginning to see the faultlines. The Red House Painters fucking rule. Comments: Add Your Own. Tuesday, October 19th, 2004 Time: 8:16 am. if you were alone, you can walk away from louisville alone. Friday, August 20th, 2004 Time: 2:48 am. "they'll never cure this thing with medicine and magazines..." Comments: Add Your Own. Thursday, July 1st, 2004 Time: 11:31 am. I think everybody needs to take Live Journal a little less seriously. Let us not forget that arguing on the internet must always equate to jumping blindfolded into water-less pools, drinking twenty six ounces of barium sulfate in a hospital dressing room, and eating a delicious turkey dinner with no pants on. We all must remember that we do in fact have lives outside a flourescent screen, whether it be working at a convenience store seventy hours a week and still struggling to make rent, or jerking off octo-daily in our parent's shower while staring out the window at a neighbour's pet. Once we lose sight that online is not reality, we are in trouble. Comments: Add Your Own. Monday, June 7th, 2004 Time: 3:28 am. Mood: good. normal sleep schedules are for wusses! (and people with jobs, aka people more important than me) Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own. Wednesday, May 5th, 2004 Time: 12:16 pm. and we were an army of dead women and men, shuffling pointlessly across and through this glorious new century with all its interactive toys, internet prattle, electrified restraining harnesses, billion-dollar death rays and supermax penetentaries, and its goddamned evermore refined, irrational, and terminal economies of blood, misery, and slow fucking doom? and please know, or already understand, that this is so fucking useless as a one-way transmission, like all one-way transmissions need to cease forever for sure in this already existing mess of radiation, electricity, noise, clamor and lies. and&so and but sometime somewhere some tiny action took root maybe, and none of us heard about it yet, and the earth did its slow twirl in spite of? and so we all woke up hungover, and always still more tired of, or more spooked or scared, and barely shuffled through a little bit more? and while we were sleeping they even took our neighborhoods away, and everything turned into disneyland and marionettes and chipboards and spit? no more lovely aimless strolls allowed, no more long wandering nights all burning with possibility, wonder, or joy- not here, no. not with the whole "yeah, you can live here. but you can't live here. i mean you can pay your rent and to and fro a little but that's about all bub, and don't you forget it hawhawhwaw"? and we learned the rules way too well, and they altered the way we felt and lived and breathed even? and what about the story of us all abandoning each other because we were too self-involved to figure out how alone we all really felt mostly nearly all of the time? (meaning that we all treated each other reallyreallyreally badly, man)? and crafted our own neurotic soap operas with our boring sad couplings and irony, television and cocktails? and in our infinite weakness we figured everything was shit anyways so might as well get used to the smell? and we gathered in compromised halls that reeked of failure, distance and self-alienation? and so we never really met? and since we never met, we never schemed or manifested the ruined dreams that didn't have to be ruined at all? and never figured out how to counter all the bland agents of recuperation, who stole our brightest hopes always and shot them out of satellites at a buck fifty-nine an hour? (and would you believe us if we told you that we built a machine that'll bring all their fucking satellites the fuck down?) and the arguments for and against were never complicated but were certainly fucking complex? and we crafted slack fact ions, and made believe that we were seditionaries, but were too easily moved or else did not ever move at all? and never stormed the gates or walls? but crafted clumsy things with our hands, and those things were important to us, those clumsy abstracted towers and minurets we crafted with our own worried hands? and built our own confused belief systems, which were endlessly and crucially beautiful in their small stubborn tangles of loss, worry, faith and need? and made small gestures with our hands or eyes that were endlessly redeeming, and made us all sometimes almost believe in saints and/or angels? and daydreamed endlessly about living a little more quietly or a little bit louder for a while? and almost always strived for a little more engagement with this falling/fallen world? or hardened our resolve sometimes and bent our heads and backs into the task at hand and dug and built or erected? or transmitted occassional epiphanies or urgent fears with photocopiers, silkscreens or cdr's? and found answers sometimes in the empty places, like gangs of birds flying out of dead buildings, beneath the sun's blind white hole? like trees growing through fences or an abandoned jar filled with a summer's worth of rusty water out there behind the place where the heavy trains roll? and found hope in the idea of the futile gesture? and manifested sometimes with bricks in our hands? and built something here in spite of and will not let them take it from us so easily? so please oh please, let's please figure out soon what exactly we can build here on this parched and fallow ground. (knowing all along, that sooner or later their bulldozers will come and tear it all down...) but we can build it in spite of, and leave dusty notes about our journeys behind...and resistance grew from tender places, and we fought the good fight whenever it staggered down our lonesome, twisted roads... it's been a tough week, kids. hope to see you all soon. love, bryan Comments: Add Your Own. Thursday, April 22nd, 2004 Time: 8:44 am. New Study Proves Food as Addictive as Cocaine Comments: Add Your Own. Wednesday, April 7th, 2004 Subject: maybe the trees in the city are still there Time: 10:13 pm. knuckles clenched to white Comments: Add Your Own. Thursday, April 1st, 2004 Time: 4:43 pm. they were almost invisible in the camouflage world of neon lights and vinyl siding. but i saw it all, how their war left them dark around the eyes. it is all there in the songs. a farewell party that never ends. a disco in the basement. holding hands beneath the strobe light- not only during the bright flashes, but in all the darknesses between. it is all there in the songs. the promise of a better tomorrow, where the meek become kings, and saints learn to make love. where soldiers find grace in their surrender. where a picture of paris above the hotplate means you are home. always there beside you, your best. Comments: Add Your Own. Thursday, March 25th, 2004 Time: 2:41 pm. sometimes the stars seem like pinholes, with a world of brightness behind them. sometimes they seem like the crumbs of something once whole and bright, waiting to be swallowed by the darkness like everything else. the beginning and the end of the world together like two ends of a thread. the stitch that binds us. these kids bounced around the suburbs with the perilous grace of a pinball. when frozen in place they made the most beautiful still life since cezanne. but it is so hard to stick together when there are so many trains. the voices they heard made them special, but anxious. they always knew that there were things worth fighting for. they just never believed that they were one of them. Comments: Add Your Own. Thursday, February 12th, 2004 Time: 2:23 pm. 'they cannot lock me up...i am eternally free...' Comments: Add Your Own. Tuesday, February 10th, 2004 Time: 12:17 pm. sight now changing sorrow building light now leaving our lives ending Comments: Add Your Own.

LiveJournal for the happiest days of our lives (b.y.). View: User Info. View: Friends. View: Calendar. View: Memories. You're looking at the latest 14 entries.