1.26.2011

Elements of the Skin

Somehow my mind has been manipulated into over-thought. There are two definite influences: a friend who always questions the world around him, and a novel that outlines the decline of the human condition. The two seem to work simultaneously to make me observe... stuff.


I've become so analytical about everyone; questioning motives when people speak, or generally assessing their presence. Nothing is face value to me, but rather the context of the scenario. We are far beyond the time of words having validity.


But look who's writing.


Surely I don't hate people, but I hate how inevitably awful our species has become. Everyone has just stopped caring about everyone on a personal level; people are pulling apart and fading away.

_______________________________


impatience - deceit - ignorance - entitlement


My friend has a kind heart. We walked home the other night with leftovers from the restaurant we ate at. A homeless woman wandered up to us begging for food with a fake fucking puppy dog face(a disgusting practice). Deceit.


Her misfortune is not my problem. Leave me alone. Impatience.


But my friend, like I said, has a kind heart. She gave the homeless woman her container with the leftovers: "It's all yours!" and we started to walk away. Ignorance.


The woman, without a thank you, opened the container, threw it on the ground and walked away. It was not good enough for her. This woman... she smelled like fucking shit, begged my friend like a dog for food and it wasn't good enough. Entitlement.


I hope that woman goes very hungry.

_______________________________


You should probably buy a more expensive jacket

And add to your collection of non-reusable, Styrofoam coffee cups.

Carry these tokens to protect your "substance"/"persona"/...


She wears expensive jewellery

He drinks brand-name coffee

His phone is superior to mine

She has lipstick

He has a new tattoo

Their apparel leaves no secrets

We're fading.


Watch the fat girl eat cookies for breakfast

The prof. drinks bottled water

Buddy uses a Macbook to check the hockey scores

I'm trying to justify why she'd wear heels in the snow...


I don't know you

But I do know...

Your sympathies don't matter

You should probably buy a more expensive jacket.

Consume. Consume. Consumer.

____________________________________


You can't listen to the ambient sounds around you; nothing is good enough for your ears anymore.

Your texts won't send because you don't get service in this building built for... learning. Disaster.

It's 8 am and already people are hanging on the other end of the technological extension of yourself. You are important!


Take topless mirror-shots or show some tit. Put it on Facebook. There are no surprises anymore.

After 2,111 photos, do you still need to see my face? Don't answer that. It won't change things.

You mumble when you speak because you know nothing beyond the virtual arena that has become your comfortable environment.

I can't even make a telephone call anymore.


I don't have 458 friends. We won't even offer each other a "hello" if we encounter. We hide our eyes and keep going because we're fading. 458 friends...


We drink every night because the reality of our digital detachment becomes easier. And we photograph it. And we show the world. True friends.


Connect. Connect. Connected.

__________________________________


He is gay

He is straight

She loves all

She loves no one

These two are fucking

She hides

He's out there


Who gives a fuck?


Feel. Feel. Feeling.

_________________________________


pale

dark

freckles

hair

scars

bones

fat

blood

stretch marks

man-made colour

scratches

burns

moisture

dryness

wrinkles

acne

cosmetics

secretions

glands

pores

nerves

goose bumps.


The exterior to one's supposed individuality.

We are all the same.


Elements of the skin.

________________________________


I've been writing these things in my notebook for weeks. A lot of this^^ is excerpts. I'll be in class and just start jotting down the behaviour around the room.


I see the way no one cares about everyone

and everyone cares about everyone.

I guess you could say irony maybe, or some kind of paradox.


It's bizarre though, because generally I'm quite apathetic... and even now I'm not personally going to challenge my own critiques. I guess it's^ just a pessimistic regurgitation of what society has become. Or senseless bitching, which, as you know, I'm good at.


Anyhow, you shan't be offended. This is a self-critique too. It's all a facade.


But really, do you ever encounter someone and wonder "what made them decide to wear that colour of nail polish"? I've been thinking too much about trivial things like that.


Nothing can be taken at face value anymore.



Seriousness today, sexiness tomorrow,

Xesetarip



1.17.2011

Shit I Learn in English

I suffer from a terrible thing. It's called "English minor" and it is causing me to become very ill. I'm good at English but it's boring as fuck. So, in order for me to be able to pay attention in 8am English and not fall asleep, I need to make my notes as interesting as possible. These are actual things my teacher talked about in class but I interpreted them in my own way to help me learn :). You should do the same, kids. Stay in school. Don't do drugs. Use condoms. And make your English notes sexy.




Yes indeedy. For some reason every course I take somehow drags feminism into it. FML.


Better listen to what he says.


Oh yes. We learned plenty on Monster Gaga.

It's a justified conclusion I think.

A little tasteless on my behalf.

My teacher said this.

She's also really into burlesque.

Maybe she should stop having sex with rabbits then? (I know that's not what really happened stfu)
"Box of Gaga parts"
A summary of common themes in today's lecture.

Yup my teacher used the metaphor of the "other" being "shit."
That's what they did back in the day!

Hate that fucker.

Fuck feminism. But yay booby tassels.
And we did see them in class today.
Do you have a stick or a circle!?


Best of luck in your classes, friends.
Xesetarip
makin' sexy notes since... 2009.




1.12.2011

Poem of Love, Lust, and Growing

ok
go
no
oh

Who be dat hoe?
You be dat hoe.
But I keep mah pants awn
Pants awn the ground

Picked 'em up,
get fucked up.
Buttercup.
Double D cups
motorboat dem tingz.

Motorboat road trip with your friends and relatives.
Oh okay I'll pack my bag right now.
Time to get up and personal with your mother's virtual vagina
fwap fwap fwap
Fwap until you start a genocide on all the sperm in your testicles.

But it's okay, you're getting old
and your dick's made of gold.
At least that's what I'm told.
I bet it gets really cold.

When it's not in it's pussy cocoon
Boom boom bomo
Bed makes a lot of noises because the springs are old.
Like a threatening monsoon.

As you cum everywhere
it dyes your hair.
What a zesty love affair;
torn up torrid love affair.

Horrid like a whore, sexy like a stripper
Rough and romantic.

Your ass is like the moon:
covered in craters and a primary source of cheese.
So many things to explore
you never know who'll be knocking at your door.

An androgynous figure wounded from a pit bull attack
Blood runs down creating a rainbow of past encounters with the devil.
You avert your skepticism
and steal the hearts of everyone around you thanks to your kleptomaniacism.

You see silhouettes of seagulls on lampposts at dawn and think
where have the drugs taken me?
I can't stop thinking of you as I melt into the ground.

By: Xesetarip and Izanrelur


1.09.2011

Pourquoi?

Someone *cough, Sean* is forcing my pen to write a bloggity blog but all that I can think of is WHY... so here are other things that I'm all like "W H Y ?":

WWHY ARE THERE MEN'S SOCKS (or, one man's sock) IN MY ROOM WHEN THERE ARE NO MEN IN MY ROOM! It's like Cinderella: if the sock fits... something something, you get the idea.

I am taking these B100 Complex pills and I don't exactly know why but it's more vitamin for the bit-a-men if you know what I meeeean dawg.

No matter what time of day I wake up my first meal is always eggs or something breakfasty. Today I ate eggs at 1:30, when I have perfectly good sandwichable tomatoes and sprouts in my fridge (THAT ARE GOING BAD SOON HOLY SHIT LET'S EAT 'EM).

I'm very jittery.

I've managed to make an entire load of laundry on underwear and bras alone. SUH MANY PANTEHZ. If only these motherfuckers would take their clothes out of the washer SEEING AS THE CYCLE HAS CONCLUDED AND I NEED TO USE IT! Fuck + you + washerhog.

I have a really huge crush on a really huge sleazeball. Yeah, fuck you. Go away. But don't. But do. But don't. Fml.

I'll give someone $5 to clean my room. But don't touch any of my stuff. Who do you think you are!?

I have class at 8am tomorrow. EIGHT IN THE MORNING. Do you understand? You don't understand. You might understand. No, you don't. I never see 8 am. And it's English. Fuck English. Fuck 8am. FUCK.

My iTunes wants me to listen to Vampire Weekend but I feel like they're so *out*.

Quesadillas at Golden Griddle. DON'T DO IT if you hate green peppers like myself. I even said to the waitress "no green peppers" but she said "they're pre-made" so I was like "k". WHAT SHE FAILED TO TELL ME WAS THAT IT WAS SOLELY GREEN PEPPERS (and red and cheese) IN THE FUCKING WRAP! WHAT THE SHIT BITCH!? It was a green pepper sandwich. If I picked them off, there'd be no food left. BLEH

Went to the bong shop to buy a bowl at 8. They were closed even though they "close at 9"... fuckin' lazy stoners.

I want to go skating but it's too cold out. Tomorrow... tomorrow...

Tattoo fund. Place bills & coins (preferably bills) here:

(That Golden Dogs poster gives me nightmares sometimes)

Mumford and Sons. Why must it play on the radio!? Little Lion Man has gone into my "most annoying" category. The entire album is soon to follow. Fuck.

My subwoofer is dying a horrible death. Poor guy. I'll stick with ya til the end my man because I'm too poor to replace you I love you.

Avenged Sevenfold. I love 'em despite how socially un-cool and outdated and 1/5th deceased they are. Wear my band shirt with pride. Mother fuckers.

Here is a short poem I just wrote:

Everything I do
is taboo.


That is all the randomness I can provide. I'm glad I have my laptop back so I can document ideas and Photoshop the shit out of some pictures. Perhaps I'll show you one day.

Wishing you pleasant orgasms,
Xesetarip.