'marilyn manson in the early nineties by richard kerns, imagine. i did, it gave me a good chuckle.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
the pansexual adventures of an unstopable, unupsetable,unstable,unassailable,art star/trash receptacle
hi and thanks for the ether. and the lost time, and all the other paltry things akin to a lifestyles essential ethos.
'marilyn manson in the early nineties by richard kerns, imagine. i did, it gave me a good chuckle.
'marilyn manson in the early nineties by richard kerns, imagine. i did, it gave me a good chuckle.
Friday, November 13, 2009
walking up orchard 05'- conrad vreeland
Walking up orchard, in black, at night, black pocket tee, dark grey ann demuelmeester cardigan, black ksubi zip jeans, silver spray painted high tops. I was pretty pleased with myself, I felt great, it was a beautiful nite. Not cold but almost it was fall not quite winter.
Im leaving ruff club at annex. And I have a pocket full of dope- good dope I know because I saw Elaine who scored for me and she was high as a high when it looks good- even told me to be careful Elaine who shoots four bags at a time, I knew it was good. I couldn’t do it there not if I wasn’t already high, if I was already high it wouldn’t matter because id be blissful and not care, at all. Wouldn’t faze me but not high, I was weed high I think actually, and weed high I was too paranoid.
I was already sweating I was so excited my heart was pounding I was getting the pre-high rush which is almost as good as the actual rush, and at this point any withdrawl is eased , absent.
I walked all the way up ave a and down ninth to mud and went into the bathroom to fix- I only did two bags since id never tried it before it had a clover on the bag, I didn’t know where it came from id never seen it, it looked and smelled good though, the smell was making my stomach turn, sometimes before I get high I have to vom, then get high I didn’t want to hurl here though, so I mentally pushed it all back down. I fixed up then tied my cardigan around my arm the vein popped right away it always does if its my first time getting high in the day. which as my schedule was twelve-thirty was my morning and i considered that to be my first shoot of the day. I was sweating so much still but my heart was a normal rate I was almost calm, zen like. Doing my religious ritual at my alter as it was at that time, it was my god, my religion. My lover, my love.`
I haven’t been this high, this satisfied in months. I can hardly focus I know I still look good but my eyes are fucked, half-mast, one almost crossing but im fighting against it real hard. Focus, focus hard.
I remember I have sunglasses, fuck it Ill walk out of mud in sunglasses who gives a fuck. And then I wont have to worry, but with sunglasses as small as my pupils are I cant really see much. Not to mention my legs are more rubbery than I remember. And I run into a table on my way out almost falling down dropping my bag my needle falling out, I got it before anyone saw at least I think. If not they didn’t react or acknowledge it. Im out the door back on ninth, back down to a, down to 40 c. or maybe not when Im walking out the other side of Tompkins square someone I vaguely know drives up.
And I feel the guilt, rise up from the pit of my stomach from way deep inside- then I get a wave and the dope pushes it right back down to the place where it rests.
And this, this my friends, my mother, and everyone I love, this Is why I do it.
To make this guilt which has accumulated like so many raindrops in an endless ocean of raindrops, subside- momentarily. I feel relief.
I know I don’t have to feel guilty because on dope it’s a choice and in this moment im choosing dope. Im choosing the quick fix. And im choosing being ok with who iam and every fucked thing that’s ever happened to me cant hurt me, not right now. Wont even come close to touching me.
In that moment though I still want to run, but the car seems so welcoming. Thinking about getting home on the train isn’t very appealing in the state im in. I spent all my cash so a taxis out of the question.
I know its him, he knew where id be, hed never come to the east village for any other reason, its not as though he goes out.
I think “im stoned, I can handle it, just one more night”- in the morning though, itll be so different. But I still have quite a bit of dope left I bought a bundle and a half so I may have enough till noon tomorrow if im lucky or if I pace myself.
Still though I pretend I don’t notice the car, just keep walking- just keep going Conrad I think to myself, don’t do it. Or just make him take you home make something up, not again, not tonight, your so happy, not tonight.
But the black benz persists, pulls up beside me , the back window rolls down, yeah its him as if I had any doubts.
I wonder what he thinks of me in this moment, who he thinks I really am, what insight does he really have? Does he care? At all.
He tries, and falters..
It sounds like were speaking to each other underwater, I cant really understand what hes saying I just know from experience what to say in response but I don’t hear myself either, and its not really me speaking it’s a fractured part of my being that I want nothing to do with. Ever again, its habit.
Im a creature of habit, iam an addict’ of course.
I cant look him in the eye. Everytime I do it feels like another part of me slips away and I panic because I don’t know where to find the pieces to fit back into the ones that are missing.
Sucking up on the dregs baby.
Im going for the car, hes holding the door open, moves over to make room for me, I get in and sink into the nice smooth leather seats and my body just feels right, im so comfortable, so at ease. I feel beauty were driving past the community park on avenue b and its angels singing.
He speaks and the beauty breaks.
And if I wasn’t so high, id melt, right here in the back of this big black Mercedes.
But im not melting im not seven years old, and im retaining myself. I feel almost proud.
He asks how much my precious time is worth this evening and my pride breaks. Hes an abuser through and through and its as if he can read me and knows what emotions are peaking and he can say just one thing and that thing stings worse than when he hits me.
I get real snarky and say I don’t know what you mean but if my time were worth something, I wouldn’t be in this car, would i.
I hurt him I can tell, and it feels good.
He knows he has to turn on the charm, he doesn’t have me, im not under his spell not now im not. He has to make up for the other night.
He reaches over and for a moment I think its to strike, but hes being sweet, its not his style to hit me in front of the driver. He strokes my hair and takes my glasses off and apparently my eyes still aren’t opening all the way and he says I see your already high- so it must be something else that made you get in tonight.
He thinks I love him, maybe once I did, but it was only because I thought his love was all I deserved, I don’t love him, I hate him I hate him as though he were every single thing wrong with the world. Its all on him/
I think to myself” im gonna fuck this mans shit real hard, and its gonna happen tonight too.:” IM really gonna do it.
And I know he wants me to say something sweet he made a kind gesture and expects me to melt. That’s not gonna happen though.
I start getting demanding. I say first I need a grand up front right now, not latter now. I dial nine one one on my cell just incase I need to dial I can.
Then I need a ride to the spot on bowery.
He says ok, im relieved. I couldn’t handle the cops and id surely be the one to get fucked if I did need them anyway, im the junkie, hes the rich evil charming man.
Hes so fucking charming but im done being charmed. Its over, its all over.
He tells the driver where to go, the driver already knows though and is already on his way.
I call gizmo, tell him im on my way. This is my favorite place to score, its indoors its sheltered and theres a getaway car right outside, I feel safe.
Even though I already have plenty of drugs I buy more, this may be my last opportunity to stock up.
I make him give me another grand on top of the one hes giving me to spend the night.
I go in hand gizmo the first grand, he doesn’t even count it, he knows by the rubberband its legit ive never fucked giz over, he trusts me, this gives me great pleasure knowing he trusts me. Trust is rare in this game and it makes me feel important that the dopeman trusts me.
He hands me twelve bundles im overpaying but I don’t care its amazing dope.
I walk back out to the car- get in. fix up. Get high, he hates it when I get high in front of him im doing it to spite him I barely to any, its all show I make him watch I want him to see, hes revolted.
I want him to be turned off. I want to be ugly in his eyes.
He cant watch hes squirming im about to put the needle in he says wait wait cant you just wait. I do it anyway. And I get a rush off that tiny bit I did and im just that much more sure of myself.
Im leaving ruff club at annex. And I have a pocket full of dope- good dope I know because I saw Elaine who scored for me and she was high as a high when it looks good- even told me to be careful Elaine who shoots four bags at a time, I knew it was good. I couldn’t do it there not if I wasn’t already high, if I was already high it wouldn’t matter because id be blissful and not care, at all. Wouldn’t faze me but not high, I was weed high I think actually, and weed high I was too paranoid.
I was already sweating I was so excited my heart was pounding I was getting the pre-high rush which is almost as good as the actual rush, and at this point any withdrawl is eased , absent.
I walked all the way up ave a and down ninth to mud and went into the bathroom to fix- I only did two bags since id never tried it before it had a clover on the bag, I didn’t know where it came from id never seen it, it looked and smelled good though, the smell was making my stomach turn, sometimes before I get high I have to vom, then get high I didn’t want to hurl here though, so I mentally pushed it all back down. I fixed up then tied my cardigan around my arm the vein popped right away it always does if its my first time getting high in the day. which as my schedule was twelve-thirty was my morning and i considered that to be my first shoot of the day. I was sweating so much still but my heart was a normal rate I was almost calm, zen like. Doing my religious ritual at my alter as it was at that time, it was my god, my religion. My lover, my love.`
I haven’t been this high, this satisfied in months. I can hardly focus I know I still look good but my eyes are fucked, half-mast, one almost crossing but im fighting against it real hard. Focus, focus hard.
I remember I have sunglasses, fuck it Ill walk out of mud in sunglasses who gives a fuck. And then I wont have to worry, but with sunglasses as small as my pupils are I cant really see much. Not to mention my legs are more rubbery than I remember. And I run into a table on my way out almost falling down dropping my bag my needle falling out, I got it before anyone saw at least I think. If not they didn’t react or acknowledge it. Im out the door back on ninth, back down to a, down to 40 c. or maybe not when Im walking out the other side of Tompkins square someone I vaguely know drives up.
And I feel the guilt, rise up from the pit of my stomach from way deep inside- then I get a wave and the dope pushes it right back down to the place where it rests.
And this, this my friends, my mother, and everyone I love, this Is why I do it.
To make this guilt which has accumulated like so many raindrops in an endless ocean of raindrops, subside- momentarily. I feel relief.
I know I don’t have to feel guilty because on dope it’s a choice and in this moment im choosing dope. Im choosing the quick fix. And im choosing being ok with who iam and every fucked thing that’s ever happened to me cant hurt me, not right now. Wont even come close to touching me.
In that moment though I still want to run, but the car seems so welcoming. Thinking about getting home on the train isn’t very appealing in the state im in. I spent all my cash so a taxis out of the question.
I know its him, he knew where id be, hed never come to the east village for any other reason, its not as though he goes out.
I think “im stoned, I can handle it, just one more night”- in the morning though, itll be so different. But I still have quite a bit of dope left I bought a bundle and a half so I may have enough till noon tomorrow if im lucky or if I pace myself.
Still though I pretend I don’t notice the car, just keep walking- just keep going Conrad I think to myself, don’t do it. Or just make him take you home make something up, not again, not tonight, your so happy, not tonight.
But the black benz persists, pulls up beside me , the back window rolls down, yeah its him as if I had any doubts.
I wonder what he thinks of me in this moment, who he thinks I really am, what insight does he really have? Does he care? At all.
He tries, and falters..
It sounds like were speaking to each other underwater, I cant really understand what hes saying I just know from experience what to say in response but I don’t hear myself either, and its not really me speaking it’s a fractured part of my being that I want nothing to do with. Ever again, its habit.
Im a creature of habit, iam an addict’ of course.
I cant look him in the eye. Everytime I do it feels like another part of me slips away and I panic because I don’t know where to find the pieces to fit back into the ones that are missing.
Sucking up on the dregs baby.
Im going for the car, hes holding the door open, moves over to make room for me, I get in and sink into the nice smooth leather seats and my body just feels right, im so comfortable, so at ease. I feel beauty were driving past the community park on avenue b and its angels singing.
He speaks and the beauty breaks.
And if I wasn’t so high, id melt, right here in the back of this big black Mercedes.
But im not melting im not seven years old, and im retaining myself. I feel almost proud.
He asks how much my precious time is worth this evening and my pride breaks. Hes an abuser through and through and its as if he can read me and knows what emotions are peaking and he can say just one thing and that thing stings worse than when he hits me.
I get real snarky and say I don’t know what you mean but if my time were worth something, I wouldn’t be in this car, would i.
I hurt him I can tell, and it feels good.
He knows he has to turn on the charm, he doesn’t have me, im not under his spell not now im not. He has to make up for the other night.
He reaches over and for a moment I think its to strike, but hes being sweet, its not his style to hit me in front of the driver. He strokes my hair and takes my glasses off and apparently my eyes still aren’t opening all the way and he says I see your already high- so it must be something else that made you get in tonight.
He thinks I love him, maybe once I did, but it was only because I thought his love was all I deserved, I don’t love him, I hate him I hate him as though he were every single thing wrong with the world. Its all on him/
I think to myself” im gonna fuck this mans shit real hard, and its gonna happen tonight too.:” IM really gonna do it.
And I know he wants me to say something sweet he made a kind gesture and expects me to melt. That’s not gonna happen though.
I start getting demanding. I say first I need a grand up front right now, not latter now. I dial nine one one on my cell just incase I need to dial I can.
Then I need a ride to the spot on bowery.
He says ok, im relieved. I couldn’t handle the cops and id surely be the one to get fucked if I did need them anyway, im the junkie, hes the rich evil charming man.
Hes so fucking charming but im done being charmed. Its over, its all over.
He tells the driver where to go, the driver already knows though and is already on his way.
I call gizmo, tell him im on my way. This is my favorite place to score, its indoors its sheltered and theres a getaway car right outside, I feel safe.
Even though I already have plenty of drugs I buy more, this may be my last opportunity to stock up.
I make him give me another grand on top of the one hes giving me to spend the night.
I go in hand gizmo the first grand, he doesn’t even count it, he knows by the rubberband its legit ive never fucked giz over, he trusts me, this gives me great pleasure knowing he trusts me. Trust is rare in this game and it makes me feel important that the dopeman trusts me.
He hands me twelve bundles im overpaying but I don’t care its amazing dope.
I walk back out to the car- get in. fix up. Get high, he hates it when I get high in front of him im doing it to spite him I barely to any, its all show I make him watch I want him to see, hes revolted.
I want him to be turned off. I want to be ugly in his eyes.
He cant watch hes squirming im about to put the needle in he says wait wait cant you just wait. I do it anyway. And I get a rush off that tiny bit I did and im just that much more sure of myself.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
those girls-Conrad Vreeland
Those girls, photogenic replete with magazine smiles. We ignore them and walk on past as though they weren't there. Lest our ego's get shaken. I won't be tricked into caring just because they've got photo smiles that go on forever. We have our own smiles just as pretty. Thank you. So pretty it makes me want to throw up. Did you see those girls she says to me. Yeah i say. Fuck them, were they models you think. Fakes, just pretty rich co-eds. We agree on this. We tend to agree on little else though. You think you get to know someone so well then one day snap. I don't know what happened I try and ignore anything happened.As well does she. but right i think iam a genius or something because ive read alot of french books?. Alot of good that does me. Everyone looks at us. We ignore it we dont know what else to do. We've got low self-esteem and big egos with bad aditudes. We were both sexualized to early, abused to much as children. Whatever; I mean we were right but who's childhood didnt fuck them up. I don't wanna be that kid. So i try not to bring it up in conversation anymore. But it manages "it" pushes its way out. Who the fuck knows what to say to things like that. I impose my shit onto other people. I was imposed upon and iam trying to purge myself. Cant anybody see iam trying to rid myself of the cancer. Not perpetuate it. We walk on. We alternate between confidant and uncomfortably self-aware stances. People look at us. Everywhere we go people look at us. Its not just my imagination. I dont think anyway, its hard to tell. I think people look at us. I know people look at her. Everywhere we go people look at her. People think were anorexic, junkies(are we?). They give us cute-tragic narratives that i like more than my own. I like that these people think about me. I like it and i dont like it. It confuses me. Again with "it", It's confuse me. I dont know what to think. I try not to(and hence being narcotized). It doesnt work(like the drugs do). We walk on more people do or dont look at us. I pull my hair in my eyes so i can hide behind it like a shield so people cant hurt me. Strangers have hurt me before, whos to say it wont happen again so i hid behind my hair. She gets her jackie o prada glasses out of her chanel bag and puts them on. She doesnt want any strangers hurting her either. We let alot of strangers in though. We let them in with the expressed purpose of hurting us. Strangers hurt us, it happens. We like it and we dont like it. We dont say anything either way. When were home We look in the mirror together alot we point out our flaws to each other then the other one clicks their tongue on their teeth and notes how ridiculous that comment is. That the other is a fool, so beautiful. Each of us knows how ridiculous this game with the mirror is. But we like the way we can warp our self image. Maybe some stranger from the past noted that very same flaw being remarked on. With the mirror. When we play the mirror game. Daily I'd say. We play this game then we go and look for strangers with whom we can ignore or get hurt by. We like meterial things without depth. Things we can see right through, whether they'll hurt us or not. Thats why we like meterial things without depth. I like crazy people. People who are notably crazy. Really crazy not kind of i take prozac and im fourteen crazy. She doesnt like crazy people shes had enough and shes bored by crazy. Me i like crazy were settling together. Me,iam not crazy iam just middle class. Iam getting more acquainted with addiction,addiction seems to hold more appeal, its a more cognitive realization of release for me. Iam not condescending iam protecting myself. Anyway as addicted as we are we dont care if people stare at us , pills whatever drug is like hiding behind hair and sunglasses and whos to say which is better. We dont give a fuck anyway. We get moody and fight. We walk on further down the street past more people who'll stare at us. We will and wont mind. Itll confound us to pieces. This addiction i have a crush on hasnt hit yet not really anyway. Will it ever?
I have alot of self control. People dont necessarily equate my behaviour with self-control but i kind of doubt any real long term addiction. But this forward motion into addiction propels me towards more people who can hurt me. Hurt me even worse then these fat middle aged men. Theyre the ones who stare most. Theyre horny and they mistake me for a girl, then they see i have facial hair. They do and dont care. I like things that push me away and bring me closer. I dont like it when ideas are fully realized. Iam not a perfectionist. Iam a middle class slacker and i do what i want. Iam in therapy , shes not, she waits at the library while iam seeing Dr. brunner-orne. Dr.orne , thats what i call her i drop the brunner. She likes me i think weve made alot of progress in therapy. Ive realized i just want to be a junkie. Iam tired of fucking with strangers. She wont like this , she might call it some kind of regression. Ill never tell her about all this i dont want to hear any more logic. I like illogical things so does she we do illogical things together we interact with other people when were together and play a game act and lie for entertainment. Weve been deceitful in conversation with strangers in the past. I hate lying it just happens sometimes its to hard to dispel so i run with it. I hate lies and i hate lying, it happens. Were not liers though we only lie on accident
I have alot of self control. People dont necessarily equate my behaviour with self-control but i kind of doubt any real long term addiction. But this forward motion into addiction propels me towards more people who can hurt me. Hurt me even worse then these fat middle aged men. Theyre the ones who stare most. Theyre horny and they mistake me for a girl, then they see i have facial hair. They do and dont care. I like things that push me away and bring me closer. I dont like it when ideas are fully realized. Iam not a perfectionist. Iam a middle class slacker and i do what i want. Iam in therapy , shes not, she waits at the library while iam seeing Dr. brunner-orne. Dr.orne , thats what i call her i drop the brunner. She likes me i think weve made alot of progress in therapy. Ive realized i just want to be a junkie. Iam tired of fucking with strangers. She wont like this , she might call it some kind of regression. Ill never tell her about all this i dont want to hear any more logic. I like illogical things so does she we do illogical things together we interact with other people when were together and play a game act and lie for entertainment. Weve been deceitful in conversation with strangers in the past. I hate lying it just happens sometimes its to hard to dispel so i run with it. I hate lies and i hate lying, it happens. Were not liers though we only lie on accident
Sunday, October 25, 2009
a conversation between two fag/lovers and a lil' BIT of ryan trecartin.
12:10pmMyles
shes baseicially paid for my knucks last night
i only paid like idk. youd lover her shes better then katie
im going to start wearing an upside down cross earring by the way
12:11pmRyan
kool, i like that
12:14pmRyan
what size is it i sent you my addie
12:15pmMyles
its a small
like adult
12:16pmRyan
oh kool
k
im losing like 5lbs a week
12:16pmMyles
yay
im going to send you a XXXL
12:17pmRyan
thnx
12:17pmMyles
:)
12:19pmMyles
tell me tell me
12:20pmRyan
i love you?
12:21pmMyles
i love you. but tell me more things
12:21pmRyan
im talking to my mom right now about what meds they gave my dad
which is funny right?
12:22pmMyles
haha
she misses me
12:23pmRyan
she does
12:23pmMyles
hah
she doesnt even member me
12:24pmRyan
she would vaguely, im sure, she doesnt forget. and plus i dated you so i talked about you alot
12:27pmRyan
nola needs to hopstop a place ill brb
12:28pmMyles
whats hopstop?
12:40pmRyan
a directions website 4 the trains
12:40pmMyles
haha
12:40pmRyan
do you like ryan trecarrtin
12:41pmMyles
who is that?
12:42pmRyan
http://www.youtube.com/user/Wia
12:43pmRyan
he makes these weird ass films
i love him and them
patrick from cobain in a coma was in one
12:44pmMyles
im listening to rayj !
BECCAS HOME
eww
fucking ginger
12:44pmRyan
ewww you eww you just hate gingers
yr a ginger hater and ihave a total ginger fetish!!!!!!
12:44pmMyles
did i ever tell you about the night i saw solomn flip out outside of ruff
obvi
12:44pmRyan
is james still there, tell him i say hi.
hollla at yr boi
12:45pmMyles
shut up
12:45pmRyan
no
tell me
ruff puff
12:47pmRyan
TELL ME RUFF PUFF
peggy
girl power
im just gonna say that i wish she was dead
good thats what i wanna hear i can tell it smells popular, so let us know if we need a translater, no checks
NO CHECKS
12:48pmMyles
haha ily
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