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blazar (7356)

blazar
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http://blazar.perlmonk.org/
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Journal of blazar (7356)

Wednesday August 29, 2007
03:10 PM

Hospital forthcoming

Tomorrow morning. Once again, and less willing to go there than ever... although as a seeming paradox I can recognize a part of me that begins to feel it like home, as a place to recover from the sadness and sorrow of these days. In any case, she won't be there this time, supporting me and making me smile when the world appears to be in the process of falling all over me. No song for today, since I'm listening to some d+b on the background, and nevertheless I just can't feel the beat, nor the breakbeat - they even hurt. Well, to put it briefly, the emotions that that music generally brings to me. As if hypnotized, and not in a positive acceptation... She won't be there, period.

Tuesday August 28, 2007
02:01 PM

Lost soul

Still waiting for the caress of that sweetest battle angel of mine.
As in the psychotic dream of a mecha bride.
No way out.

07:06 AM

Now I remember!

Now I remember the song I wanted to mention here. It's in Italian, sorry.

Current soundtrack:

Voglio una colla che ripari tutto quello che ho rotto anche i ricordi
Voglio una colla per stare bene colla per sogni per andar fuori...
Colla colla Spara spara La felicità La felicità...
Voglio una colla per sentimenti che aggiusti tutto anche i momenti
che attacchi a quello da cui mi son staccata amici e amanti voglio aggiustarmi

Voglio una colla che ripari tutto quello che ho rotto anche i ricordi
Voglio una colla per stare bene colla per sogni per andar fuori...

Colla colla Spara spara La felicità La felicità...

Monday August 27, 2007
05:30 PM

And what about the song?

And what about the "mandatory" song tonight? Well, I had thought of one well (not perfectly, but understand me: what is perfect anyway?) suited to the reality that I expected to come true. But reality surprises us all the time and has much more fantasy than all of us together. So... a few hours ago another one, more appropriated to the new albeit feeble hope to which I'm holding to with all of my strengths sprang to mind. However... it has gone now, and I'm so tired, with a temperature, stunned... I just can't get it back and I only want to go to sleep, with the hope that her whishes of having sweet dreams come true. Sweet dreams my dearest love, wherever you are, sweet dreams to you too.

04:25 PM

Tunnel effect and a temperature at last!

It seems that in reality quantum effects do matter, because in classical physics a point of no return is, well, a point of no return. Instead I can now see the pale reflection of the light shadow of a thin veil of hope. And that's still better than yesterday's complete despair. She loves me: I'd like to think the contrary and I've even actually thought it, but that's not the case, yet knowing this doesn't make anything easier, or less painful... I think I can understand how she feels: "impossibile to live either with me or without me."

I still feel so lonely. I've known she's bad and has a temperature because of an infection to a tooth... I feel my place should be at her home, to stand by her. No worry: not worth even thinking of it, I know she wouldn't allow me to, at least in this phase that is.

Speaking of which, I'm not that well either. More precisely last Thursday I removed the elastomeric pump which I had kept for fourteen days for the continuous infusion of ifosfamide at high dosages. My exams revealed that the white blood cells, and neutrophils in particular were low, however the doctor judged the situation to be "border line" and so after some hesitation she decided not to give me a growth factor, but to have me repeat the exams today. In the meanwhile I've moved from Acqui Terme (my mom's city) back to Milan. So I repeated the exams and since the values were worse than the previous ones, I contacted the doctors who "take care" (I should explain the quotes, but that's a whole another story) of me here: they told me that they don't generally give the growth factor in connection with this kind of therapy either, and to further repeat the exams Wednesday. I now have a temperature too. And I can feel it raising in a rush. Yahooo!!

Sunday August 26, 2007
05:01 PM

Point of no return

And can't even find an appropriate song to say goodbye. Above all, dominating the world, an infinite sadness, while indeed, all your dreams get trampled in the dust.

The doubt of not having done the right thing. But when you're a worthless actor anyway, who cares? I mean: who really cares? Who really loves you? Mom and dad, supposedly. Indeed they do... Yet you just can't live without her, because you gave her all of your heart, all of your soul so that she could bite them, bringing away pieces of them forever -the best ones- and breaking the rest. But she doesn't really understand, and her choice is firm... so this is just the end. Period.

Soundtrack:

I don't wanna live
to be thirty-four
I don't wanna die
in a nuclear war

go on out
get some more
go on out
to the bar, the market or the liquor store

I don't wanna live
to be fourthy-three
I don't like
what I see going on around me

go on out
get some more
go on out
get fucked up and pass out on the floor
go on out
get some more
go on out
to your favorite liquor store
go on out
don't worry about it any more
go on out
get fucked up
I don't know what for

I don't wanna live
to be fifty-seven
I'm living in hell
is there a heaven?

live fast, die young!
live fast, die young!
live fast, die young!
live fast, die young!

Saturday August 25, 2007
03:28 PM

All things dull and ugly

...as in a Monty Python's song. Except without the fun. Saddest thing is, outside it was a wonderful day. It could even be a wonderful world. It just isn't.

Current soundtrack:

Like a rock, like a planet,
Like a fucking atom bomb,
I'll remain unperturbed by the joy and the madness
That I encounter everywhere I turn,

I've seen it all along,
In books and magazines,
Like a twitch before dying,
Like a pornographic sea,
There's a flower behind the window,
There's an ugly laughing man,
Like a hummingbird in silence,
Like the blood on my door,
It's the generator

Oh yeah, oh yeah, like the blood on my door,
Wash me clean and I will run until I reach the shore,
I've known it all along like the bone under my skin,
Like actors in a photograph,
Like paper in the wind,
There's a hammer by the window,
There's a knife on the floor,
Like turbines in darkness,
Like the blood on my door,
It's the generator

06:57 AM

And

And when you eventually receive a message, it sounds like a sadistic joke played on you. And even having to answer that message, to pick up the mobile an press those tiny buttons suddenly becomes an overwhelming task. Talking bullshit, the funcking trademarked Right Thing: you don't count anything, anyway, right?

04:22 AM

Living, living and partly living

I'm reminded of those verses. That's how I feel now...

Living, living and partly living is to wake up and to not want to get up, not because of the warm sensation and the pleasure of lying there, but because you feel like a corpse and you seem not to be able to get up.

Living, living and partly living: gettin up not because you want to, but because you know you have to, with no enthusiasm at all for anything. Life included.

No enthusiasm for the big and little things that used to fill your life: to turn on the computer and read mail? To write in clpmisc or PerlMonks? And why? To help people? Or to boost my own ego like whiners claim? Which ego... I don't have an ego any more: I feel like saying that I'm half the man I used to be, but after having been much more, after having tasted what it is to live as opposed to to survive, I am much less. And there's only one person that could kill this pain, but she doesn't want to. And she is causing it...

Firing up the mail client and knowing in advance that there won't be any mail from her, turning on the mobile phone and knowing that you won't receive the "have a good day" message from her. A sense of void that words can't express.

Living, living and partly living: having so many more things to say, and not being able to finish this own note, not because you don't have the time to, but because pressing the keys seems such a overwhelming duty... and all so useless... what can my poor words do? Writing this very phrase and going back to bed, not because of the pleasure of doing so but because there's nothing satisfactory, nothing that could bring the slightest bit of joy to your life: this is living, living and partly living.

Friday August 24, 2007
12:51 PM

Alien

Soundtrack:

Everyday convince myself of everything I can and can't believe
Abused confused
Everyday you feel every crime just stare up at the sky and wonder why
Afraid deranged

Hold on to your promise you can use it for a crutch
Stand by while all your dreams are trampled in the dust
Leave now before your slick machines begin to rust
Last chance farewell
Among us

Everyday you get a little bit older and everything gets hard you wonder why
Afraid deranged
Everyday you feel every crime an endless shocking show on the parade
Abused confused

Everyday convince myself of everything I can and can't
Believe
Afraid deranged

Hold on to your promise you can use it for a crutch
Stand by while all your dreams are trampled in the dust
Leave now before your slick machines begin to rust
Last chance farewell
Among us

Among us

Where are the aliens? we're the aliens
Where are the aliens? we're the aliens