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Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007
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3:46 pm - detriment expelled (I'll try to sing it pure and easily)
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three private things
private messages
i am too full of this intimacy
this honesty
i can barely contain
barely contain...
please understand. no pretention. i can no longer remain diffident and taciturn.
these words below, are fermenting inside [me]. i have to release.
i feel as though i have heartburn.
no specific order. i am obsessed with death.
ONE
Subject: TCD
Body: this actually might not be appropriate. i still haven't figured how what is generally accepted among humans.
it's to my full belief TC didn't die happy. of all possible conclusions, though sadness was one of them, i hope it was not.
it's hard to imagine how he died exactly. it's a bit easier to assess yet possibly just as meaningless to wonder how he felt upon death. what was important was he found happiness among those around him. and that said, he did not die alone physically, however, it is possible he did emotionally.
i'm sorry i didn't play that final game of joust with you, TC. i'm apologetic towards the fact that i disliked you for those years you weren't in my life. you had done terrible things to me. i had forgiven you. but, i wish i avoided you. if i did, perhaps even if i fostered that much into hate, it would have enveloped me in enough manner to not let you move in. i'm sorry. i can't forgive myself for forgiving you.
i believe before he died he had not slept in days. he hadn't really eaten at all or much in the 3 days beforehand. he was ill. i have contracted that illness. i am assuming he had terrible earaches, bloody sore-throat, massive headache; abdomenal cramps. TC had asked David before going into his room that night if David would have sex with him. David declined. i dont think TC was gay, but he wanted David to say yes. he was infatuated with David as a friend. TC just wanted to believe David loved him, sadly he didn't just ask him that. he had bled enough from cutting his legs to merit passing out, among other things. he was decently drunk. he had few narcotics, honestly. it was just the wrong time and place. he suffocated in the same fashion one nailed to a stick would; he had caved in forward.
he was so purple. that day, the mental image of him wouldn't leave my mind. i would see it every 7-12 seconds. the next day, the time between seeing him grew far apart, and, by now, i believe i have minor control over it.
he was so cold. he was bloated. it made him look sad.
TC was a good friend. even though he hadn't changed and he was still a bit of a lying thief, when it came down to it, he really cared and he really tried.
sometimes you felt like a brother. i'm sorry i never told you that. i never felt it was sincere or mature.
the only thing i am completely certain of is he had been happy. the happiest i'd seen him. i understand you've heard this, but it's entirely true. perhaps not that night, but every night and day beforehand.
perhaps happiness is too great to bear. i'll miss you, TC.
TWO:
Subject: responding; contact established; message sent
Body: I've considered suicide
a couple times in the past week
not just longing for the sweet nothingness of death
but actually considering putting myself there
fun thoughts
static
"i know where i am and i know what I want to do"
break
dynamic ever flowing vibrating pulsing shifting
tread water and hope
no not hope
swim
"depression" "i fail at everything i try"
new days new hours new life i'll just drive away
start again
and the time will come when i add up the numbers
shit shit
free and forget about: making sense, meeting my own standards, being the best i can be
when the best you are is as you are and can only get better you have only ever been who you are now
in the past you were only "who you are" then
(wall) i am generally obsessed with mental illness. depression? that's one. schizophrenia?(?) that's two.
THREE:
Subject: No Subject
Body: Let me begin by saying that I'm entirely unsure as to how I should say any of this. However, I feel that you're the only person I know who would take me seriously or make an attempt at understanding in the way I'd hope for.
That being said, I am afraid that I have reached some point to where I can no longer feel or truly experience anything. Every moment in my live has taken on the surrealistic properties of a dream, and not in a good way. I realize that everyone feels that way on occasion, but it's far worse than I ever imagined this sort of thing could be. In the past three days, I have forgotten my identity entirely on a number of occasions (name, residence, hobbies, on down the line). I am seriously afraid of what this means, what it may do to me, and how I may eventually react.
I'm not sure why I felt so strongly compelled to say any of this to you. I'm sorry if it freaks you out.
also, a fourth.. private thing
FOUR:
http://betterforgotten.livejournal.com/
this fellow is dead. evidence leads me to believe so. i have no way of truly knowing, but i feel certain. his entries are private but i am an asshole. i will expose them here, because i have to let it disperse from me. the awareness. of the circumstance. i can't talk. i am incoherent. ignore me, and here:
[Nov. 6th, 2005|09:19 pm]
i am going to kill myself.
sorry mom, dad, sister, grandfather, aunt, other relatives.
i'll see y'all later.
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[Oct. 16th, 2005|04:35 pm]
i wish i were dead.
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[Oct. 9th, 2005|02:39 pm]
goddamn it
i'm so fucking confused. i hate everybody.
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[Sep. 29th, 2005|11:11 pm]
i am in the house of one of the most beautiful models i have ever seen.
i kiss her as often as i can.
i'm a fool.
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[Jul. 31st, 2005|08:05 pm]
there's so many things you should have told her
but night after night you're willing to hold her
just hold her
tears on your shoulder
there's talk on the street, it's there to remind you
that it doesn't really matter which side you're on.
you're walking away, and they're talking behind you
they will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along
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backDate [Jul. 21st, 2005|03:40 am]
When we're Sixty.
That's what She told me at the Campout.
She's still getting Married.
And I still love Her.
I've had Dreams that I've stopped the Wedding. I've tried to Call Her on numerous Occasions. She is not Perfect: actually, far from it.
a part of me dies every time i think of her.
i cannot wait until i am sixty. or she is sixty. hm. we never clarified that. better give her a call.
better Not.
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[Jul. 21st, 2005|03:32 am]
Things have been Changing.
Anger Management.
Fucking: The wrong Person.
Desperate pleas for Forgiveness. Promises of Change.
i am weak. tired. listless. i want to love, so desperately. but i hate myself. oxymoron.
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[Jul. 21st, 2005|03:29 am]
All men have secrets and here is mine, so let it be known...
We have been through hell and high tide, I can surely rely on you.
And yet you start to recoil, heavy words are so lightly thrown...
But I'd still leap in front of a, flying bul-let for you
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[Jun. 2nd, 2005|01:10 am]
Tonight I had dinner with Gene and The Models. Well, not all were of The Models, but some were Girlfriends, one was a Roommate.
Aside from the conversation centering around Fetisch, it was absolutely Normal, as always. :) I enjoyed seeing Josie, and felt somewhat Relieved when she joked about the last time We all went to dinner together (me and The Models) and We ended up in bed, naked.
During dinner, I was sandwiched between her and B.E., which wasn't such a Bad Thing. Josie joked with B.E. about how it's dangerous to go out and party with me. B.E. said she thinks she can Handle me.
Oddly Enough, I'm not at all Intimidated about the Model status, the Fetisch, or their Experiences. I'm more torn (if the Opportunity ever Arose) because of B.E.'s open relationship status. Perhaps it is the Best thing for me, given my Situation.
-
Flash Forward to mere minutes ago. I spoke with Her for a couple of hours. The conversation was a bit of a tug o war. First I was trying to convince Her that we should Break Up. Then She tried to convince me that we should Break Up. It's sick. A veritable disease, this Love.
Insecurity. Codependence. Self Esteem (or Lack thereof). Sad. Trying desperately not to fail. Relationship was a failure to begin with. Can't make Something out of Nothing. We tried so Hard. We almost made it. I am a Failure. Once again. And not for the last time.
I've got the smell of a local man: who's got the Loneliest Feeling.
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Hurt, the second Half [May. 31st, 2005|09:16 pm]
I often wonder about Karma. Personally, I think Karma is Bullshit. But I'm somewhat Agnostic on the Idea...and often entertain notions that it does Exist. After all, the Universe is in Balance, even though Entropy reigns throughout. But throughout the Entropy, little pockets of Balance exist.
Given the Pain I feel, I wonder: have I inflicted that much Pain on Others? If so, I deserve it. I will Relish it.
I await her Call tonight.
Tonight if I have the Balls, I will either Break It Off or Stay My Path. The Path is twisted. Treacherous. The Rewards may be few, given her psychoses. Given My psychoses. I have hurt her so much. I long for the looks she used to give me - when We Knew what Love was.
If I Break It Off
I will still be Unhappy.
I am a pussy.
not this time.
the cut will be deep.
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My Life is one big Hurt [May. 31st, 2005|09:13 pm]
Well, sort of.
The Last Part of my Life is. I've been Happy, but the moments have been Fleeting. Like when I was with Heather. I Loved her with all my Heart. I still do. If she wanted to Run Away with Me, I'd do it.
But she's getting Married. To the same guy she Cheated on. One day, when we're Sixty. I'd take her in my arms and hold her Forever. I love you, Heather.
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[May. 27th, 2005|11:38 pm]
Flash Forward (I love that term) to now.
I went out last night for a Work Function (tm). Decided to stay out a bit later. Friend drops me off around the corner, because GF lives down a confusing alley. GF gets all paranoid: *who* dropped you off? Well, my friend did.
But I lied one time before. (See last Post)
And She doesn't believe me. Anymore.
I don't think I can live this way.
Plus, the communication is always an Issue.
Therapist told me I have Three Choices. I'm going for #3. Except I don't need to fall off the cliff. I'm going to do it. Just you Wait. And I'll be better than ever. I promise.
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[May. 27th, 2005|11:37 pm]
Alot has Happened since I last Wrote.
Got back together (r).
I lied.
We broke up.
Had more Problems (tm). My own. Auto. Damage.
I made things with Her even worse.
She took me back.
things were okay (c) for awhile.
Next Post (tm).
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fun. [Mar. 23rd, 2005|10:17 pm]
But not funny.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/666/485.html?thread=8421#t8421
As always.
I should be, but am often not:
Better Off Dead.
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Look! [Mar. 23rd, 2005|09:43 pm]
It's me again. To quote a friend, "I'm still alive." Well yes, in one sense of the word.
However, in the other sense, I feel quite dead. Not sure how to shake this feeling. Maybe I just feel numb. But I'm numb to feeling numb, so I just feel normal, except with no response to stimulus. It's an odd feeling, for sure.
I brought this about myself, all by myself. Self destruct, boom.
Got an e-mail from her today.
"please do not contact me again until i am ready to speak with you."
Yeah, I fucked up.
She just called me twice. The first time I was on the pot, taking a dump. The second time I was in the kitchen, cooking what was supposed to be my lunch. It's dinner now, by the way.
Dinner consists of:
- oddly cut zucchini
- large shrimp (I'd go so far as to say prawns)
- red bell peppers
- the obligatory garlic/red onions
All stir fried in some new olive oyl I just bought. Unfiltered. Sprinkle some hot pepper on top with salt and balsamic vinegar. Served over quinoa.
Pretty decent for being cooked last night and eaten now.
Red wine consists of "Smoking Loon" Merlot. This bottle seems to have aged exceptionally well, in comparison to the rest.
I miss her terribly.
But I need to get better. Right now, I'm broken. And the pieces aren't fitting together in the way they should. It's like having a tricycle that's all apart, and putting it together to be some sort of fucked up bicycle. It works, sort of. But it's not the tricycle. And the tricycle is what I want: not a fucked up bike that keeps breaking down.
Was thinking about going out to Kingman's tonight to see my buds and possibly throw down some tunes. They'll be there for awhile - I've got some time. It's only 9:53pm, you see. Maybe I'll rockstar it and show up at midnight. Maybe not.
Until then, I'm more often than not:
Better Off Dead.
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Appetizer. [Mar. 23rd, 2005|03:29 am]
Sometimes things turn out the way they shouldn't.
Sometimes that's a good thing. I'm drunk, and as always,
Better Off Dead
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Dessert. [Mar. 22nd, 2005|11:55 pm]
I'm never hungry when it comes time for dessert.
But this is the cherry on top. Ready?
I've written her twice since the Occurance. No answer. I could call her, but I know that she fears me. And justifiably so. I am Violence, incarnate. Stupidity, personified.
I am so glad I do not have a gun. Because I would probably have blown my head off by now.
Scratch.
Until tomorrow, I'm just:
Better Off Dead.
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Third entry. [Mar. 22nd, 2005|11:53 pm]
Just fooling.
Fuh-fuh-fuh-foolin'
As always, I'm just:
Better Off Dead.
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Second entry. [Mar. 22nd, 2005|11:48 pm]
Because two courses are better than one. Usually.
This instance involves a course of pain. Pain is not often welcome, unless that is your fetisch. Unfortunately, it is not mine. My fetisches are strictly limited to the vinyl variety.
This time, I will not succumb to antidepressants. I want to feel this pain in its entirety, mostly because I deserve it. Call me a masochist. But I am not. More like, I am a realist, and it is Time to take what I have been dealing out.
I love you. But I need to let you go. I'm no good for you, and you know this. Maybe when I'm dead and gone, you'll read this. Until then, I'm just...
Better Off Dead.
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Hello [Mar. 22nd, 2005|11:45 pm]
This is my first journal entry. Hopefully, it won't be my last.
You see, I'm an idiot. I've thrown away possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me. But I had to. I'm too broken, too stupid, too unprepared.
I know she hurts. But she will be better off in the end. And I will always be...
Better Off Dead.
if you have made it here,
i want to tell you that i know what i love. i am in love. this helps me focus. i have a great source of inspiration. i revel in his extraordinary rarity and intelligence. i can't help but adulate. goodbye. i'm sorry if it's been weird.
current music: jolie holland - mexican blue
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(contradict me)
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| Saturday, January 13th, 2007
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6:01 am
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my name is lindsay otto
it's 5 AM where i am right now
where i am right now
i am experiencing an ultimate collapse
all the structure i once knew as hescaped from under my feet
i think i planned all this out in times past
but i didn't imagine that it could have been this bad
but.. who doesn't like surprises... uh huh?
so anyway
i am perceptive and attentive
and under what harsh circumstances i am experiencing
currently, and the worst of it which i had experienced earlier...
i have remained relatively calm
i'm not too horribly excitable
i will treat you human
... now, my proposition...
WOULD ANYONE BE ABLE TO LET ME STAY WITH THEM AND LIVE IN THEIR HOUSE FOR A SHORT DURATION OF TIME? THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. ANY ALTERNATE SUGGESTIONS TO HOUSING ARRANGEMENTS ARE ALSO WELCOME.. shelters, missions, etc.... urgencyyy
urgency.. woeisme
leave voice mail messages with your name (no last names), number, and what you offer at 256 -468-0798
. i will not have my phone and i cannot answer but i can check messages
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(1 proved nothing | contradict me)
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| Tuesday, November 21st, 2006
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9:04 am - not a thing better to do
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| Monday, October 23rd, 2006
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6:00 pm - default relapse
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attraction for
the thing most dangerous for
herself.
it develops
his excessiveness
fills her
decifcets.
"don't hold back,"
he told her
and some days he'd misinterpret her response.
indignance
it develops,
communication
it ceases
and the pages
fall from the calendar
& the seasons change
and he comes back
and asks her
to allow this cycle
to perpetuate . . .
what an
awful idea . . .
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(contradict me)
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| Monday, October 16th, 2006
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7:49 am - step back a little, will ya now?
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enter, mouth
glands excrete
saliva waterfall
i'm weird
i'm wired
and taste buds bloom
weirdbeard
what would happen if you tried to write normally, and not in some slow series of progressive thoughts? lord knows. i wonder what my threshold is. are the seizures coming? it's greying out. good bye, prism.
when everything is equalized, when no one event could spark any more interest than that taken in watching grass grow, are you absent then? no ups or downs, we're balanced. haha, right.
inner narrative. personal narration of one's mindinside.
a continuation? i suppose there are a lot of people who worry
about waking up and thinking in an entirely
alien manner
soul swapping
i'm not worried. were that to happen, well, it wouldn't bother me.
i'm certain it has happened, but old parts are intact
to fully comprehend a movement
before it occurs.. oh,
do i do all this
just so i'm the only one that understands me?
what's the use of that?
can't conceive what you can't make sense of
just like that
people hate things every day just because they can't make sense of them
i knew this guy
this one guy
who was concerned that his parents were talking about him
in their own personal code
of breaths, inhalations and exhalations
or the shifting of their feet,
oh my
and he hated them because he couldn't decode them
oh ho ho
what wonderfully
farcical
confabulations you create. the shattered mind. is the artist?
no no
sometimes structure entertains people
but certain ones are no longer able
to extract pleasure from the realistic,
nothing with skeletons
they're very passionate, yes
and very stupid as well
quite stupid
you've got to work with whatever you have
no confabulating.
face value
please
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(1 proved nothing | contradict me)
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