Reminiscence

Photo: Die, the excellent guitarist of Dir en Grey.

I am once more working like crazy, finding myself home around eleven at night the earliest. Consequently there is not much I can do concerning my emails or my blog. Hopefully beginning next week I will start working less hours again. Which could be good. Should be good. But unless I leave my present job, less hours is pretty much like using aspirin to treat a cancer patient. :-)

My life course twists and turns unexpectedly, my comprehension of reality constantly changes, my battles never seem to end and more than anything else, what makes me sad is that experiences cannot be communicated. All my knowledge and experiences, no matter how much I wish to use them to help other people, cannot be used. Others can perhaps understand but not comprehend and benefit from it. Experience is not a "one size fits all" achievement. And one day that I'll be gone everything will be gone with me, like the funerals of ancient times or the gypsies of today: burying the dead with their jewellery. That alone should make each of us try to live to the fullest, in order to be buried like kings and queens; take with us the treasures of a full life. Memories, colours, sounds, tastes.

When the singers we love die, they take their treasures with them. Their voice. And modern day equipment has allowed us to listen to the same songs again and again; in older times, if you were lucky enough to listen to an exceptional voice it was an one time occurrence, a rare treasure only you had in your possession.

Technology has made us forget to treasure the moment.

Photographs and videos and CDs cannot be treasured. They are but ghosts of what took place. They serve to remind us, but a slothful mind and a shallow heart cannot be urged to remember if they have lost interest to begin with.

Please try to understand how important and valuable every day of your life is.

Please try to live it to the fullest.

Please try to realise how important you are to yourself and others.

A true treasure collector.

Facebook

Home sleeping. This is what I should be doing right now. But I am not. What comfort can sleep offer to a restless mind? Rhetorical question.

Many people are bugging me to get in Facebook in order to be in contact and chat with them. But I don't want to be in contact 24/7. Even if I had the time, I don't want people to see my photos. I can't bother to take photos of myself in swimming suit and full makeup to acquire more "friends". I don't want all my ex boyfriends to know who, and if I am fucking someone presently. I have no desire to meet new people or meet friends from the old. If they were meant to be my friends still, then they would be my friends, here and now. I don't want to meet my friends from school. I had none most of the time. I still at this age see nightmares about being in school and wake up gasping for breath. I was 15 and reading Lovecraft, listening to metal music and loved vampires. No-one considered me normal or trendy enough to be friends with me. Why would I want to meet again all those who made fun of what they could not understand? To be asked if I am working in a highly paid job, have two kids and a husband? Do I owe them, or anyone else an answer? What I do is my personal business. Even if I work as a prostitute, sniff coke and pluck my toenails out with pliers, I owe no-one explanations.

God/dess dammit, I still read Lovecraft and listen to metal music and love vampires.

I don't want to be part of any team of people. I am a very private person. I don't want to have to deal with the politics, cliques and whatnots of any group of people. Yes, I feel lonely. But my loneliness has to do with mortality, with the fact I am one separate entity cursed and blessed with the isolation and confines of one single mind. I have no delusions about "being understood" by others. We all filter reality through the personality we have developed, which is mostly a result of our experiences. Even identical twins who have grown together have different personalities, though they see their own reflection every time they look at the other twin. Even identical twins at the end of the day are alone.

No, I don't think that Facebook can make my loneliness go away. I don't think that watching photos of abs and nearly exposed breasts has any insight to add to my understanding of reality. I don't want to talk with "like-minded others" (read between the lines: they listen to the same music or read the same books, but what about the way they treat actual people?) and I don't think what I am in need of is more friends. Perhaps I am unfair towards those people who use Facebook and enjoy themselves and indeed find what they're looking for. But obviously I am not looking for the same things.

Here and there.

It could be funny. Mindlessness is an art I excel at lately. I spend money to avoid thinking. I buy myself magazines with Japanese rock stars, CDs, cute stationery; what most men would call cute pink crap. I look at pink frilly little designs. The child inside me, cornered, frustrated, sad beyond words, for a moment sighs with relief. A small pink breath for her and I wish, I wish I could connect with her again and tell her it's going to be fine. I don't dare connect because then I will cry non- stop for everything, for all the things that life has turned me into, for all the things I wished I would be and never came to be, for all those moments I fail to face the world with an open heart and my eyes filled with innocence and thirst. Like she would.

I am so sorry sweetheart. I am so sorry for the things that have happened to you and for the pain you had to go through. I am also sorry for the times you will be disappointed in the future, because, you know, that's human nature.

But that's not how it was supposed to be.

It's not.

I wish I could tell her it's all going to be fine and believe it myself.

I wish I did not have to cry in the middle of the fucking net cafe like a goddamn idiot.

She doesn't want kawaii stationery. She wants to be loved.

She is lonely and scared and wants someone to hold her.

I am so very sorry sweetheart.

So very sorry.

Odds and ends

"Where is our fortunate future? When does our fortunate future come?"

*I love the night. I love to take long walks during the small hours. However, were I to live in darkness for the rest of my life, unless my eyesight became nocturnal too, I would miss the colours of nature very much...

*I find it hard to sleep on my back. Then again, tiredness works miracles.

*My sense of hearing and smell have become more acute lately. It does not work to my advantage.

*Most of the time I am certain I am invisible. When I receive compliments by men, I feel immediately alarmed. I am sure they have something bad in mind.

*When I start conversing, actually conversing with people, they either irritate me, disgust me, or both.

"For all that is worth/ the blood on my hands/ is the blood of divinities."

*In my happiest moments I have always been alone. I don't think this will change no matter what happens. The purest contentment is always found inside one's own self. I have recently come to the conclusion that happiness while being with others presupposes a rather naive mind. I've recently also come to the conclusion I am very damaged.

*Beautiful images attack all my senses to the point of actual physical pain.

*I use music the same way others use class A drugs.

*I don't like being touched, hugged, fondled or petted for more than ten seconds at a time, any time.

"I will scream as much as I want and if my voice dies, then let my voice die."

*I can't sleep unless I have a pillow between my legs. Failing to find that extra pillow, I place both hands, a jacket, or anything else I can find.

*I think humans go contrary to nature in a million different ways. The concept of females beautifying themselves is alien to nature; in all cases, the male has to be beautiful and make highly ritualistic approaches for the female to choose him.

* In the blowing of the wind I hear the trees chatter away and share secrets. I wish I could understand what they say.

*I'll always regret not becoming chaos in its most refined, unstoppable form. I'll always regret not leaving behind me a trail of corpses. I'll never, never stop hungering for destruction. All behind the perfect mask.

"Your scars, my love, show me your scars... What a delicate pattern they must dance across your heart..."

*I sometimes marvel at the ease with which people trust. The human body is so fragile, and yet with how much eagerness they entrust it to perfect strangers. Look at me. An utterly inconspicuous nobody. So simple to take someone home. So easy to get on top of a brain dead, excited male. The wall next to bed. My hand on his head. One sudden, decisive push. I am strong. The blunt item in my hand as he is shocked and dizzy. End of game. Only trouble, getting rid of the body. Could I live with myself afterwards? How many times a day do I step on an insect and don't even realise it? What is the difference between the average human and a cockroach? The fact they plead once they realise what's going on? Perhaps cockroaches plead too, if we could hear them. And girls... Girls look so pretty when they're scared out of their wits. Big eyes. Tender big eyes and lovely soft parts on their bodies. I could be the woman you ogle at a bar. I could be someone you have known for the past five years and have never ever given you reason to doubt or suspect me. I am the woman some of you have known for years and you don't doubt or suspect me. How can you know the kind of strange flowers that take root and bloom in my garden? You can't.

"In the dark morning I hear you whisper goodbye. Love me. Abandon hope."

*There are days I see those women in their sixties or seventies, with dead eyes and dead souls. They have nothing to look forward to and nothing good to recall. Becoming one of them is my greatest nightmare.

*Sometimes, the greatest act of heroism is to keep on living.

Wandering

...aimlessly. From one stupid site to the next.

Checking mails. No. Nothing of value in my mailbox.

Ebay. I don't want to buy anything, thank you.

It all looks tempting, but empty.

Blog. What the hell am I doing here anyway?

What is it that I'm supposed to find and I can't?

Where is the link I am looking for?

Perhaps I ought to be asleep already.

My dreams are much more interesting.

If only I could remember them.

I am just so tired.

And work never seems to end.

And no escape seems possible.

And the time is always now.

And I just want to get some rest.

But he, the Judas, won't let me.

I wonder if I am the only one in this position.

Obviously not.

But I cannot see anymore.

Others, or myself.

Nothing.

Ah, all the supernaturals power of the multiverse can go fuck themselves for all I care.

I would indeed sacrifice not one, but two fingers.

One for your unlikely lover, whomever he may be, to walk true, right into your arms.

And one for that small dream of mine.

Thank god we have each other, my oyabun.

Madness lurks just too close tonight.

Mistake

I am sure I have made a mistake somewhere.

It can't be explained otherwise.

It makes no sense.

All my choices, though valid, take me to dead ends.

I rerun this story in my head and yet find no escape.

But this is not how it was supposed to turn out.

No, it was not.

What have I done wrong?

Your hands, my beloved, look so immaculate.

What have I done?

My eyes cannot be read anymore.

You will never know.

Even if the time comes, you'll never know.

I'll make it gentle.

But late at night

When I toss and turn in my bed

Thinking over and over again

this sad turn of events, that might turn me

into the hand of fate

Who will take away my sin?

Who will grant me sleep?

Even you

the one supposed to love and forgive us all

the one who stayed in delicate balance

you ask me to do

what you could never.

You cannot absolve me.

I cannot absolve me.

I can only pray

that future will never come to pass.

Predicament

"I know, the past will catch you up as you run faster, I know..."

All bonds break

Reality subsides

All hell breaks loose

It all crumbles to dust

No turning back.

This body will eventually fall apart just like everything else and it won't even have fulfilled its purpose, which was to be loved.

I am left with no choices. You left me with no choices.

Loneliness creeps in and sadness pours down like a unexpected summer shower. Startling cold.

I was handed a sword. Entrusted to cut clean.

I did not refuse it.

"Fear cuts deeper than the sword."

I twist and turn in my sleep, pushing the nightmares away, flailing, gasping. Not now, I will not have those memories surface now. I will deal with them in my own time. When I am awake. NOT IN MY SLEEP.

One day it will all be gone. No more second chances. No other choices, no alternative pathways. Nothing. Void. Back in the Embrace.

Do you realise that?

Have you played the game well?

Have you done all you could?

Have you tried all options?

Have you given your best?

Cause one day you'll be gone. Gone for good.

No one will ever again smile like you did, with the same knowledge gleaming in their eyes. No one will make your favourite food or coffee like you did. No one will touch your lover, or child, or parent in the same way. Nobody will throw tantrums in the same manner or be sad in the same degree. Nobody will be able to replace you. No one in the world will be able to appreciate a moment the way you do. Do you realise that?

Do you realise your time here is finite? Do you appreciate every day? Do you give your best, or plainly drag your feet in a half-hearted existence? Do you understand, fully understand, feel to your bones the irreplaceable void you'll leave in your place once gone? Do you appreciate yourself for all that you are and do, every little quirk and gesture that make you unique? Do you comprehend that one day there won't be a next day to set things right, to apologise, to touch someone or kiss them, to say sorry or "I love you"? Do you really, truly understand that some people will never hear this from you if you keep postponing it?

Do you really think you are going to live forever?

Do you sleep easy at night?

Do you have secrets?

Do you cry?

Do you get mad when people smile at you?

Does anyone in the world hold you when you are alone and afraid?

Do you care?

Late at night, when I walk the streets with my dogs, my footsteps echo in the distance and manage to stir only dust and memories.

Sometimes I sing with my MP3 player shutting off all sounds and I wonder what my voice sounds like.

[A mad woman, an owl, someone calling out to ghosts.]

So many ghosts

so many goddamn ghosts

hordes of ghosts following my every step and me crying out like a monster, an owl with the face of a woman, a harpy, a miasma.

My hands weave spells secured by my voice; tightly woven intricate patterns of energy like some spider from a fairy tale or stories from the old, and I grow older with every passing breath and yet there isn't a single stone on which I can lay down my burden and rest...

Everything carries power and special weight

and I wish I could embrace you and show you my love

Break your frail, bird-like bones in my grip...

Tiny creatures

we're all tiny creatures digging a pitiful existence in the mud

our eternal loves and ideals swept away in a single blink of a dragon's eye

and yet the pride, oh what pride we have...

Name the reality drug that keeps you going

name the illusions that feed your ego and make you feel invincible

name the addictions you harbour that make your world make sense

and all these while our existence lasts only for a scream

and our souls flutter away blind

leaving as blind as they arrived

and it's repeated into eternity.

Is it all meaningless?

Is it futile?

All those years, were they wasted time?

Only time will tell.

Till the dragons fly again,

farewell...

Much needed inspiration...

Moonspell: Scorpion flower

Curse the day, hail the night

Flower grown in the wild

In your empty heart

In the breast that feeds

Flower worn in the dark

Can I steal your mind for a while?

Can I stop your heart for a while?

Can I freeze your soul and your time?

Scorpion flower

Token of death

Ignite the skies with your eyes

And keep me away from your light

Surrender tears to your mortal act

Flower cursed be thy fruit

Of your courage last

Of your grand finale

Flower crushed in the ground

In your empty heart

In the breast that feeds

Flower worn in the dark

Can I steal your mind for a while?

Can I stop your heart for a while?

Can I freeze your soul and your time?

Scorpion flower

Token of death

Ignite the skies with your eyes

In your empty heart

In the breast that feeds

Flower worn in the dark

Can I steal your mind for a while?

Can I stop your heart for a while?

Can I freeze your soul and your time?

Scorpion flower

Token of death

Ignite the skies with your eyes

(Song from the latest Moonspell album, Night Eternal. Full of my favourite themes: Lucifer, Lilith and darkness. The scorpion symbol an added bonus.)

Angels, devils and guitar players.

It is time.

The time of frosted moon and de-frosted Asian buttocks.

I shall be merciless.

I shall chase them like a mad dog to the gates of hell and even further. Into police stations, into libraries, into churches. It is the time of ultimate doom.

Ovulation has kicked in.

I need Asian boys all wrapped up in ribbons and fake fur.

First of all, Uruha. I shall tie him up and throw him in the oven and roast him. And eat him beginning with his little ass.

YES! YOU! YOUR ASS! ASS! BRING ME THE ASS OF URUHA on a silver platter, well roasted and topped with mustard! Onions and potatoes will mark his passage! And leave me to it! ~AAAAAASSSS! That will teach you to shake your hips in videos in such a slutty, despicable, unacceptable manner! ASSSS! ASSSSS!!! Your ass will be GRASSSS!!!

Then Gackt will be the one to suffer. I shall wear my armor and go find him in his fortress. He shall hear me approach, me and my minions of evil, and he shall know me by my evil boots of DOOM. Thigh high platforms that imitate the sound "DOOM" while I march to war. "Doom, doom, doom". Like a frost giant wearing two anvils instead of shoes, walking half-heartedly to his own wedding. The kind of sound that makes the ground shake and the fillings in your teeth vibrate. And behind me, millions of my evil man-eating gothic smurfs chattering away like demonic locusts. All white, with black gothic clothes and tiny very sharp teeth. We shall prevail!

[Gackt, as soon as he heard the news of me approaching, is trying to disguise himself and flee. NO such luck you bastard! Your penis will decorate my hall of trophies tonight!!!]

Then Hyde must fall victim to the power of my ovulation. He will try to escape, try to run and hide, all in vain! VIOLATION! Random violence and undiluted pain in my hands! Tied up and covered in marmalade and me shaving him with a chainsaw while one gazillion ants run all over him, tickling him to death! His defeat and humiliation will be unparalleled, an example to every other Japanese rock star thinking he's more feminine than I am, and prettier as well! BASTARDS! BASTARDS! Why do you have to live in Japan from all places? I need 2000 euro to come there and give you a piece of my mind! I shall take Japan by force and have it under martial law! You will be forced to walk around dressed like ugly transvestites for the rest of your miserable lives!

[Hyde under my martial law, mocking my authority. Take him inside and WHIP him till he bleeds, the bastard!]

And then...

What?

(Someone from behind a curtain speaks to me in a low voice.)

Oh.

I see.

I was just informed that a specific someone brought me gifts in order to reconsider.

Hmmm. Bananas. I love bananas. Come here sweet Uruha boy. I hope you know where these are going.

[Cries of panic echo in the courtyard. A door slams. Then silence.]

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Crash test

Okay, this post will not make much sense to anyone not involved with Japanese rock music. Then again, I want to make my friend K. laugh because she's a true blessing in my life, and she has made me laugh at times I needed it more than dear breath. There you go girl, this one's for you.

SEX CRASH TEST!

Between two major J-rock musicians: Gackt (Gakuto) Camui (musician, performer and singer) and Kyo Nishimura (Niimura), singer of the cult band Dir en Grey.

Gackt: tall, (1.80?) slender but beautifully worked out, lovely smile with blinding white teeth, the androgynous beauty of an angel, mid thirties to late thirties, quite the charmer and the playboy. He is too good not to be vain, conceited and self-involved to the wrong degree. You know, the "for fuck's sake get the fuck out of the bathroom, I need to pee, there are mirrors in other rooms of the house too goddammit!" type.

Kyo: too short, (1.60?) very slender, full of tattoos, a tiny man of solid muscle, yellow teeth that look like a traffic jam after an accident, rather ugly to downright grotesque, early thirties, oddly quiet and polite. The type of quiet and polite that makes you wonder if he's got a closet full of mummified fans hidden somewhere in his house.

Why fuck them?

Gackt: because he's too good to be true, the bastard. Criminally pretty. And grows old beautifully as well.

Kyo: because on stage he behaves like an epileptic orc during a psychotic episode, even to the point of self-mutilation. If he is the same in bed, he's gonna be the fuck of a lifetime.

What would they think if they saw me in a crowded room?

Gackt: Hmmmm... She's too tall (note:I am 1.78m), taller than I (in high heels). How dare she be taller? *annoyed* And she's got tattoos on her arms. Yuck. Such bad taste! How unfeminine! And bags under her eyes as well! Hasn't she heard of concealer? Plus she's not even blond! And she's got boring brown eyes! But I haven't fucked non-Japanese pussy in quite some time, so perhaps I will devote SOME of my PRECIOUS time to her, but only a little.

Kyo: wow, that woman is TALL. (His eyes inevitably fall on my cleavage, due to them being at that exact height.) Er. *Blushes* But why is she staring at me? (Starts looking left and right, certain I am not looking at him.) Perhaps she is looking for the ladies' room?

Romantic courting:

Gackt: Women are such sensitive creatures. (Pours more wine in your glass, to make sure this sensitive creature in particular will be too tipsy to say no.) They bring true joy to my life. (Read between the lines: especially those 90-60-90 types, born mute and perpetually hungry for my divine penis.) Sometimes the loneliness gets me down. (Translation: I haven't scored in two weeks. I need to get laid to satisfy my manly urges and desires. You, lucky girl, you.) I wonder if I will ever find the one I am looking for. (Translation: you could be this one, you luckiest woman on the planet.) Then he smiles a kittenish smile while 'accidentally' touching skin, and you really want to smack his face because he's such a douchebag, especially those perfect teeth are begging for your knuckles, but the lower part of your body has a very different opinion on the whole matter.

Kyo: (Looks at you mystified, then points at a random direction with a barely audible polite whisper:) That way. (Meaning "to the ladies' room".)

Line to make them fall for you:

Gackt: No line. He likes his women mute anyway. Just IGNORE the bastard, ignore him with all your might and fury.

Kyo: ??? Perhaps using a baseball bat would be more effective than any line I can presently think of.

SEXUAL ARENA

Size matters:

Gackt: I'll be damned if I know. Then again, he's Japanese, so what the hell do you expect down there, the Tokyo Tower?

Kyo: He's tiny. I surely hope he's not tiny everywhere. I think in his case you are in for a surprise. Now, whether this will be a pleasant or nasty surprise, we can all pray to the Phallus god. And buy a strap-on just to be on the safe side.

About giving you oral:

Gackt: *twitches his -plastic surgery- perfect nose in serious distaste.* Do what? Yes, I suppose I could do that, being an exceptional lover and all that, but why don't we try this other thing first? (My perfect face is NOT meant to be between the legs of ANY woman, you deluded moron! It is meant to be worshiped, photographed and depicted on magazines worldwide. JUST WHO do you think you are???)

Kyo: You don't ask him to give you oral. In fact, you don't speak at all. You just grab him by the hair and direct his head between your legs. Once down there, I have this very strong suspicion he knows very well what to do.

About you giving them oral:

Gackt: But of course. It took you some time, but you finally understood your purpose in life. That's the only fitting place for a woman anyway. In the bedroom, after she has satisfied all my manly desires. In the kitchen, while at the same time cooking a heavenly meal for me. In the living room, while I am sitting comfortably in my designer couch and she has just vacuumed. In the recording room, while I am writing yet another romantic song and need gentle inspiration. I think I will compose a new song now and perhaps even include you in my thanks section of my latest album.

Kyo: *blushes tomato red*

On scratches and bites:

Gackt: OW! Are you CRAZY? (He jumps out of bed and runs to the bedroom mirror, strategically placed somewhere near bed to be able to watch himself while fucking you.) You scratched my face(/back/arm/leg)!!! My beautiful face(/back/arm/leg)!!! I have a photo shooting in two days and this CAN'T be covered by make-up! Argh!!! (Don't be very surprised if he slaps you at that point and then ties you up, to make sure you won't be able to scratch him a second time.)

Kyo: OW! That felt GOOD! (Then he either reverts to epileptic orc mode and starts fucking you as if there is no tomorrow, or he gets confused, thinks he is on stage and starts singing. Good luck with that.)

AFTER SEX

Gackt: Was it as good for you as it was for me? Of course. How could it not be? I am the perfect lover. Tomorrow I will make breakfast and bring it to bed, BLAH ME BLAH ME BLAH ME BLAH ME BLAH ME... ME ME ME ME ME ME, BLAH DE BLAH... (Just pretend you are asleep. It will save you.)

Kyo: Sleeps like a dead man, probably curled, snoring lightly and drooling on your pillow.

LINES YOU CAN SAY TO...

...make them marry you:

To Gackt: No lines. Zip it for the rest of your life. And read this blog entry from the beginning. Are you sure you want that? Now, I don't think you've been paying attention!

To Kyo: You know, I can scratch, slap and bite you like that EVERY time. Plus I love little fluffy animals. (There are pictures of Kyo nearly shitting himself with joy while petting doggies, cats, rabbits and the like.)

...make them run for dear life and never look back:

To Gackt: I think I am pregnant.

To Kyo: You know, I LOVE torturing and killing little fluffy animals. And hey, actually you look like one. Why don't you get some sleep now? You must be tired.

... make them dump you and possibly execute all your relatives as well:

To Gackt: Kyo from Dir en Grey does it better. Plus he's got a bigger dick than yours.

To Kyo: I have been cheating on you with Toshiya (another member of Dir en Grey) since the beginning of our relationship.

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No meaning

Sleep

sweet sleep

give me back my meaning

When the sky fails and the wind falls silent

silent croon of dreams

partner in crime

give me back my purpose

When reality refuses to hand over

what is rightfully mine,

give it to me and pry it back tenderly in the morning

from my unmoving fingers

Sleep

sweet sleep

Motherfather of all realities

sacred thread in the hands of the Weaver

open embrace of the divine

void between the heavens and the blood drenched soil

Give me back

the mind of a child,

the wonder filled eyes

and the open heart

of the miracle maker.