realneon-blog

[realneon-blog]

real neon is done for now

You can find me at hollow object/hallow abject.

I only followed a couple people from here in part because lazy, in part because I follow way too many people. Part of this is trying to prune down to people that actually interact with me. If you want to make sure we stay in touch or that I get around to following you, send me an ask over there, for real.

[realneon-blog]

real neon is done for now

You can find me at hollow object/hallow abject.

I only followed a couple people from here in part because lazy, in part because I follow way too many people. Part of this is trying to prune down to people that actually interact with me. If you want to make sure we stay in touch or that I get around to following you, send me an ask over there, for real. (message to be repeated 1 more time)

[realneon-blog]

real neon is done for now

You can find me at hollow object/hallow abject.

I only followed a couple people from here in part because lazy, in part because I follow way too many people. Part of this is trying to prune down to people that actually interact with me. If you want to make sure we stay in touch or that I get around to following you, send me an ask over there, for real. (message to be repeated 2 more times over the next day or so)

[realneon-blog]

real neon is done for now

You can find me at hollow object/hallow abject.

I only followed a couple people from here in part because lazy, in part because I follow way too many people. Part of this is trying to prune down to people that actually interact with me. If you want to make sure we stay in touch or that I get around to following you, send me an ask over there, for real. (message to repeat 3 more times over the following day or so)

[realneon-blog]

[realneon-blog]

I am either going to start a new tumblr or delete a bunch and unfollow nearly everyone.

Like many other things in my life, Tumblr is both boring and irritating me.

[realneon-blog]

[realneon-blog]

brainfog2012 / i accidentally

Which i'm thinking of making worse but enjoying the shit out of. Witch house and four hours of

Syrupy, a word that is exactly what it sounds like: dripping and sliding somewhat viscous and yet absolutely liquid. I'm not serious. I'm not sure whether or not I'm going to do it. I would rather not spend the next day completely fried again, because I feel fried anyway even though I am not doing anything and don't do things normally and I don't even normally drink.

It's very disappointing.

♦

So there's this dude who came to this poetry reading I curated and read a thing, and he's apparently really into stuff I write which is cool but then he's going to send my chapbook to somebody at a poetry thing in NYC which is really strange and kind of intimidating and confusing but exciting at the same time? Also he got me a copy of Mercury by Ariana Reines which is cool.

The Law of the Father is cruel and I like to escape the signifier as much as I can so the name on the chapbook is a pseudonym, which is also the name I use all the time everywhere. When does a "pseudonym" stop being false?

♦

I've been feeling bored and unenthusiastic, so I've been retreating to corners with my notebook and writing. Or,

I've been trying to write but frustrated when I can only write half a page before I give up. Or,

I've been succeeding at writing accidentally since somehow I've written like 4 or 5 poems in the last week but I feel terrible and doubt myself a lot and still feel like it's more forced than I would like it to be. I'm hoping that by forcing myself I can get back into the swing of writing again soon.

♦

Hung out with a girl this evening, made and devoured really delicious pasta, talked about suicide and families and queer and music and poetry and I feel somewhat confused well, I seem to always feel confused this last week or two so that's not really newsworthy, but I feel pretty happy about hanging out with her. She's pretty cool and she lives like two blocks away. I hope that we become really good friends.

♦

The guy at the corner store gave me a bag of tobacco for half price. There are sometimes that being a girl gets you things, and I like those times a lot.

[realneon-blog]

Hello everyone. I've been seeing this go around for a bit so I thought I'd make it clear: this group is essentially a more militant/fascist version of the SPEAK ENGLISH OR GET OUT ppl in the US.

I mean, it's cool that cops are getting pepper sprayed, but not cool to cheer fascists.

[realneon-blog]

Within the next year or two, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security will instantly know everything about your body, clothes, and luggage with a new laser-based molecular scanner fired from 164 feet (50 meters) away. From traces of drugs or gun powder on your clothes to what you had for breakfast to the adrenaline level in your body—agents will be able to get any information they want without even touching you.

I'm just thinking about affect, about bodies, about the betrayals of physical existence, how technology continues to be one of the most terrifying things ever, how much In-Q-Tel is a terrible thing, about EMPs. 

[realneon-blog]

[realneon-blog]

Is that Audrey Hepburn wearing a ball gag?

...google image search...

That is indeed a shopped picture of Audrey Hepburn wearing a ball gag.

[realneon-blog]

[realneon-blog]

I hope your mother/girlfriend/sister/friends/everyone asks what happened to your nose. I hope you have to explain that you thought it’d be funny to joke with your friend about raping the drunk girl across the street. I bet you didn’t think that the girl who was walking in front of you would turn around and punch you in the face. You’re a filthy piece of shit and I don’t regret this at all.

[realneon-blog]

chatroulette, sunday night

green: are you masturbating?

camguy: (masturbating, wearing a green shirt and nothing else. face offscreen)

lord byron (drunkenly): YOU PERVERT

camguy: show me ur tits

lord byron & green: (lift shirts)

camguy: no the girl

green: which one?

rage: flips camguy off

lord byron: moons camguy

me: why are you wearing a shirt?

me: that shirt is terrible.

me: you should feel bad about yourself.

[realneon-blog]

I'm going to run for president.

My platform will be: anti-vote, pro-theft, pro-punching-people. I will then shoot myself in the face after elected.

[realneon-blog]

depressedblog2012

My brain is dead, I'm hollow, too porous. There are burning things in me that want to know things like

what is the difference between solitude and company?

why does everything social irritate me?

why does being solitary leave me feeling like an empty canoe (dug and burnt out)?

Why do I feel so adrift? I don't understand how having friends hurts almost more than not having friends. It's a sense of loss.

I have such pitiful, ambivalent, furious feelings about this city of cheap booze.

When the only intelligent conversations that you can have with people have to do with theory, it's boring as fuck. I want to talk with you and not talk about anything (anti) political, I'm sick of everything that requires me to be a thing.

Lately, I've been exiting, smelling air. Ignoring everyone and listening to pressure changes, to tires on pavement and airplanes. I notice things like grass growing in the cracks in the sidewalk, taste my water (and am not repulsed. Like the girl in Signs, I find water often unbearable). This last week, I was suddenly aware of the fact that nearly every single person I felt kind of close to was out of town or busy or preoccupied, and

why is that always the case?

Perhaps I need someone more than you do, perhaps not having a family since I was 15 or friends before 16 shaped me into something forever empty, a funnel. I know I'm not always like this, it's embarrassing, really.

So I'll lose myself in completely unsatisfying things.

I want my heart to feel warm and loving again, and when I think of you my thoughts won't be of how I must stay but of how what I want is to have adventures with you and how that thing we did last week still gives me a rush and we'll be scheming how to make interesting things happen and what we'll do next.

Do close friends exist?

Or, is the glorious always qualitatively different than the position? That is, like the Image of Laura Palmer (Fire Walk With Me) -- to be a slut isn't what you expected, not as glamorous as you hoped?