|Wednesday, March 26th, 2008|
Lea Thompson was a good actor before she got her nose job.
|Saturday, March 24th, 2007|
dream: Horses have had enough! A herd of horses in california attack and kill dozens of people involved in horse racing. These organized horses are still at large.
|Wednesday, March 7th, 2007|
school: I think I may be becoming an outcast in Intro To Environmental Design. Everyone is Ooing and Ahing some Frank Lloyd Wright or Fletcher Steele who have these built works that are suposedly incorporated into the environment and I tell everyone that I think it's ugly and people shouldn't have spoiled such an appealing natural feature. FLW's Falling Water is cool yea, but a woodland stream without an ugly house would be much cooler. Robert Maillart is cool, but the Alps look a lot cooler without ugly bridges spanning every inconvient gorge.
Clearly I am going to be a revolutionary designer. I hope they expell me from school like they did to James Rose right before I go on to rock the field to it's very core.
|Tuesday, March 6th, 2007|
life: I am developing a coffee habit.
life: I am applying for a job this summer. The job is that of NIGHT RANGER! Sleeps in tent! Assists campers during the night! Keeps kids from swimming near the waterfall! NIGHT RANGER! Current Mood: NIGHT RANGER!
|Tuesday, February 27th, 2007|
bird: Several flocks of European Starlings in trees around Hadley. A flock of Robins at Umass. It seems like the Robins never went South this winter.
|Wednesday, February 21st, 2007|
|Writing but not writing much no dreams night.
night: So I have totally not written the essay which needs to be written tonight and if I don't write it I fail out of school and have to work in food service for the rest of my life and this is all making me panic a little bit so instead of writing anything I just post on livejournal and check my email and maybe read some web comics to try to relax a little and that was like almost 10 hours ago so now I'm beginning to worry and I also drank 4 cups of coffee which made my skin flush red and maybe I'm a little dehydrated so I'm going to get some water.
Also, a friend of mine said she was coming home tonight and then she didn't, it would be easier if she could tell me beforehand so I don't stay up worrying about her and can be rest assured that she's safe somewhere.
Also, If I don't spend any money for the next 10 monthes I'll only be about $1000 short of affording one more semester of uni. Well, that and $2 from a scratch ticket that I recieved for christmas and maybe I could sell some of my possessions like do I really need an antique xylophone or snowshoes or 3 bicycles? Anyways, if I write this essay and every other essay, which I will, maybe some sort of close relative like my parents might pay for school and then I won't put them into a nursing home because I'm too busy working a poverty wage job to properly take care of them. That would be best.
Also, today I saw a hawk and a dove sitting in the same tree. That was very good
|Monday, February 12th, 2007|
dream: I fall onto the asphalt as I'm searching my pockets for something I need. I stay down to pet a cat that's at the top of some stairs. I realize that whoever's landing I am on might be concerned that I'm sitting outside their door. I walk down the stairs to my apartment and see part of some naked womanly legs through the window. In my apartment I get chastised for something to do with seeing women's legs. I'm on a bus with my professor and some students. He is totally chatting it up with some female students on our way to a party. The party is a community art space with lots of pine cabinets, a wood stove, mellow lighting. The girls there are beautiful and well dressed and one looks me over and smiles as I walk in. Seconds later she spills water on me. My roommate holds me and starts to press a pressure point in my side asking a question I can't fully hear or understand. They press harder and ask a different question equally unintelligible. I ask "What the fuck are you doing?" and they push their finger into my side until I start screaming. The more I try to get away the harder they push. When I push my fingers into them I can only feel them pushing into my own body.
life: I wake up sweating and panting.
|Sunday, February 11th, 2007|
dream: I'm a marine returning from Iraq. I live in a small town where almost everybody is in the military. After returning I tell off the commanding officer in front of everyone and renounce George Bush. The town tries to find me and hurt me but by crawling through sand, navigating through buildings and swimming I manage to escape. My dream girlfriend helps me.
life: Life is shit. I fuckin' hate my life right now. Also, I hate everyone and their stupid lives.
love life: Also shit.
warning: I'm a fuckin' storm cloud watch the fuck out. And I don't have health insurance so if you see me remind me to call my mom.
|Thursday, January 4th, 2007|
dream: I'm holding onto a mole but it keeps slipping out of my hands and running off. Capturing and holding it is complicated by it's constant attempts to bite me. It smells like the smell of small dead things. It smells like all the moles, voles, rats, mice, and chipmunks that all those cats killed and then left on the sunny doorstep as presents.
|Tuesday, September 19th, 2006|
|Friday, September 15th, 2006|
|A Three Dog Night
dream: I'm walking though a partially wooded area and I spook some deer. They first run at an angle that brings them closer to me, as deer will sometimes do, and I chase after them. They disappear into a break in the wood but I can then hear them about to emerge from a different spot. When they emerge there are two wolves running with them. I run with the wolves after the deer but then we stop and I begin to run home. At first I am running away from the wolves but then I realize I am running with them and I am in no danger. I am part of their pack.
|Saturday, September 9th, 2006|
dream: I find 8 white-footed mice in my home. I want to keep them and love them.
thoughts: This was not a furrie dream.
life: I spilled hot oil on the back of my hand. It was so hot it burnt the hairs away. Now my hand is all swoll up like a fat kid's. There are also giant blisters. This may be the most serious injury to date. On one hand the black marker X from Diva's has mostly washed off. On the other burnt hand, the black marker X has stayed strong. With luck I'll get a shitty straight edge tatoo out of this.
|Saturday, August 26th, 2006|
|The Cat's Meow Night
dream: I'm at some party. I meet two people, a woman with short dark hair and a face shaped and painted like a calico cat and a very cute short-haired blond who has a voice like a man. I assume she's a post-op transsexual. We all begin to touch and make eyes. The blond disappears. The dark-haired woman and I kiss on her bed and the facepaint comes off in my mouth. To avoid this I kiss her neck and ears. Neither of us have condoms so she says she'll be right back, but I insist on following. I struggle to pull on my pants and then we walk through a section of Noho that I've never seen. There's a footpath paved with bricks that descends a hill weaving between gardens and homes. We reach a park I've never seen at Umass, between the football stadium and a highrise. There are sculptures and grass and bike racks. A real friendly place. We return to her room and resume kissing. I place my head on her shoulder and try to sleep. Then I'm standing next to her bed and not moving so that she doesn't notice I'm not next to her. Her roommate comes into their room and they begin to converse in Russian. Are they talking about me? I try to slowly return to the bed.
thoughts: This is almost a furry dream with which I've almost come to terms. Also, with dream girls there are rarely second chances. This is unlike real girls who there are rarely first or second chances and those who I will never have a chance. Once again, with a life like this who needs these dreams?
more unrelated thoughts: I had a Russian roommate who moved the the US when he was 4. He was a big fan of The Beatles. I laughed when I walked in to find him bobbing his head to "Back In The USSR" off the White Album. It was funny, believe me.
|Tuesday, August 22nd, 2006|
dream: Extended fight scene with arm locks, eye gouging, kidney punches and many jabs to the face.
thoughts: I hate fighting.
|A Night When I was 9
dream: I ran to the window of my parent's bedroom to watch a formation of UFOs high in the sky. They were pursued by formations of military aircraft. I clutched the windowsill watching them.
life: When I awoke I was clutching my bedpost.
|Monday, August 21st, 2006|
|Long Journey Night
dream: I'm on a long journey through hallways and staircases. They are through old connected office buildings. It reminded me most of a lot of the office buildings in Southbridge that have multiple additions. These additions make the buildings into a maze of floors and hallways that aren't ordered in any predictable way. The interiors are a mixture of the last 100 years. It smells very musty. On our journey we pass through areas where there are ghosts. We make haste through these areas.
|Sunday, August 20th, 2006|
dream: I'm swimming on the melting Ross ice shelf with two other people, a man and a woman. We're waiting for some approval to go to shore because we are refugees awaiting asylum. Later, I am walking through the forest when I find an abandoned brewery next to a stream and a highway. The vehicles on the highway are swerving, driving backwards and stopping and going. Later, I watch a 500 strong unarmed militia get slaughtered. I escape but then get shot by an arrow from a Native American across a chasm. I jump across the chasm and begin pursuing. After some minor swordplay the woman and myself realize that we are both fugitives and we must stop fighting each other to survive. We plan on going separate ways but when we are sharing some barley we've harvested, our arms brush. We realize that we are in love.
|Saturday, August 19th, 2006|
letter: Dear _____, The fastest way to my heart is to tug on my tie, kiss my cheek and tussle my hair. Your eyes are of the most beautiful I know. They are obsidian obsessions, abscesses like the sky between the stars or spilled ink. Spilled ink isn't experienced by many. No one except calligraphers and tattoo artists. Perhaps we should spill ink and see which is more beautiful, it or your eyes. Your eyes look best on your face. On what would ink look best? Blank paper? Ancient priceless manuscripts? Or skin? Shiny black ink spilled on our skin. Or would it look best spilt on an incomplete letter? -Love Henri_Lapham
letter: Dear ______ _________, I think you are attractive. Do you think I am attractive? Is that why you are always looking at me? Or are you always looking at everyone, not exclusively me? Do you want to go out sometime? -Love Henri_Lapham
thoughts: Maybe I shouldn't be attempting to evaluate the value of writing and publishing these little notes and dreams. Instead I should just enjoy their cathartic effects. My only worry is that quality will suffer from cancer of the blather. Meaning I'd rather not just rain all the piss that runs through my head onto livejournal.
letter: Dear _______, I liked that you liked me. The rest was kind of scary. -Love Henri_Lapham
thought: This doesn't begin to explain anything.