None shall emerge unscathed.
Since there is no afterlife, the only hell is the hell of praying, obeying laws, and debasing yourself before authority figures, the only heaven is the heaven of sin, being rebellious, having fun, fucking, learning new things and breaking as many rules as you can.
This act of courage is known as transgression.
We propose transformation through transgression - to convert, transfigure and transmute into a higher plane of existence in order to approach freedom in a world full of unknowing slaves.” — Excerpt from the Cinema of Transgression Manifesto
Quite often I see posts on here by you fine, beautiful people that are about unrequited love, broken hearts, and those special fancies and fellas in your lives. Don’t get me wrong, I like the posts because I am well aware of the feelings associated with them.
However, that’s not how I’m feeling right now. This is the first time since I can really remember that I’m not in pain every second because there’s someone I want but cannot have.
It’s a weird feeling.
I almost feel bad for feeling this way.
Unless things in my life go awry, I will be attending a hookah/booze/Star Wars party in jolly ol’ River Falls this Saturday. I love all three of those things, so it has the possibility of being fun.
If I’m feeling extra bold, I may contact a ladyfriend for some coffee while I’m in town. If I’m feeling crazy, wicked bold, I might even contact another ladyfriend and make a trip to the Mall of America so I can pick up a copy of Vice and eat some delicious Japanese food. And probably buy some shit at Urban Outfitters.
But of course writing about these things probably means that they aren’t going to happen.
My brother wants to go to the youth center tonight to see a speaker and a band. The youth center in town is church run, though, so I’m trying to talk him out of it.
Sure, it could have the possibility of being fun, but my brother is 13 and fairly impressionable.
I feel it is my job as the older brother to save him from trying to be saved.
Within the last 24 hours we’ve lost Zelda Rubinstein, JD Salinger, and now Miramax Films.
I’m sure there’s a pattern in there somewhere.
I mentioned earlier that I’m catching up on Lost for the final season come next Tuesday.
It’s probably a good thing that I’m watching it by myself, because every time there is some kind of revelation or twist I have the strongest urge to say, “I can see why they call it ‘Lost.’ Gee whiz…” in a very corny voice.
I have said it a few times to my cat when she’s in here.
She just looks disappointed.