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  <title>i am the dim locator</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/</link>
  <description>i am the dim locator - LiveJournal.com</description>
  <lastBuildDate>Fri, 29 Jun 2007 15:55:30 GMT</lastBuildDate>
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  <lj:journal>marquischacha</lj:journal>
  <lj:journalid>1947018</lj:journalid>
  <lj:journaltype>personal</lj:journaltype>
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    <title>i am the dim locator</title>
    <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/</link>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/16120.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 29 Jun 2007 15:55:30 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/16120.html</link>
  <description>fuck fuck fuck fuck this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am fucking sick of this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the very short time i&apos;ve been home, i&apos;ve started two massive blowout arguments in the house. i fucking hate it. i am such a sensitive wimp, but i am so inconsiderate to other people. i am fucking sick of this and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sitting the the living room between two parents, telling them outright i&apos;m answering no questions because i&apos;m taking no sides. i apologised again and again trying not to cry again and then walking persistently to the bathroom as i try to force the tears back into my eyes, screwing up my face as hard s possible, becoming the ugliest, most upset moron in the town. augh christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hearing my parents battle it out about apologies and being married for 20 yrs and having argued througout just makes it fucking worse. I DONT WANT ANY PART IN THIS. if being home will cause more arguments due to my ignorance then what will being here for about a year be like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love them i love them i shouldnt be in the middle of them screaming&lt;br /&gt;getting more and more heated and i just cant handle it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know people have beeen through worse divorce etc but i can&apos;t speak for anyone but myself and i hate this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i shouldn&apos;t be this fucking sensitive nearly 21 yrs old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but ive said before than when i came home i felt like i was 15 again. and thats not good AT ALL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then, before the last tear dries on my cheek, these intense feelings of pain and confusiion and anger are gone. they&apos;ll be back soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be going to the caravan with them this week, because i do still love them, and i do want to be with them in the holidays, but i couldn&apos;t stand a week. tuesday night til saturday morning will be more than enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gbye x</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/16120.html</comments>
  <category>2007</category>
  <lj:music>capn beefheart</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">capn beefheart</media:title>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15632.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 13 Jun 2007 23:52:43 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15632.html</link>
  <description>i&apos;m sat in my room in aberystwyth. theres rubbish all over the floor (im moving out), and it has generally become a miserable place to live. this makes it easier to leave. but going home to what i thought i had left some two and a half years ago makes me want to cling onto anything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the last five or six months i have suffered occasional bouts of intense depression. i dont know why, but now i have actually finished university, maybe it has something to do with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found a poem around a week ago that i wrote a few months before coming to university, which contained some of my fears at moving away (i was the first of my family and friends) and how i thought i would somehow crack under the strain of living a hundred miles from home. its come full circle. i have embraced this town and the people here for the duration of my university career. i dont know..............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went home for two days this week and realised how different everything is. chastised for staying out late, for my hair, for my job, for my lack of money. always talk of how i have to sort my life out, whatever.  i love them, but i dont think i am meant to stay there with them. blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are a lot of people who have experienced this situation, but i never have, its very strange. the proverbial &apos;future&apos; seems closer than ever now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe more later, when ive had some more brandy</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15632.html</comments>
  <lj:music>all that could have been</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">all that could have been</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>1</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15592.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 24 Apr 2007 01:08:16 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15592.html</link>
  <description>been up now for forty hours straight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m stoned as fuck, reeling drunk, spinning out, hallucinating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;turning water how hot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i watched the sun rise this morning&lt;br /&gt;thru nicotine windows&lt;br /&gt;thru the need thru my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i watched the sup drop last night&lt;br /&gt;thru my windows&lt;br /&gt;nicotineless&lt;br /&gt;thru the algebra of need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;very strange day. head&apos;s not set yte.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15273.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 23 Apr 2007 03:08:09 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/15273.html</link>
  <description>i&apos;ve drunk so many cups of coffee that i&apos;m just spinning out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pro-plus cigarettes headaches sickness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still have a 1000 words to write of this dissertation when all i want to do is puke in my sink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bed looks so nice&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;ve covered it with books so i cant sleep even if i collapsed on my mattress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14970.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:13:50 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>ruby</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14970.html</link>
  <description>this week&apos;s not been good. yesterday, i went to my nan&apos;s house, and all of the family were there. helped one of my cousins clean the garden. did some stuff around town. went back up there for five pm, in time to see dat&apos;s body be brought home. went in to mourn with my aunties and uncle. he looked so pale and thin, not like i remember him, sitting in his chair, smoking, smiling and laughing and talking about django reinhardt. my uncle kept repeating &apos;he looked awful, he looked awful&apos;. he did, but he didn&apos;t look as desperate for peace as he did when i last saw him. this time he just looked asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my aunties and uncle - his children - went in first, they all kissed him on the forehead. i didn&apos;t, because i was in a daze. you know when you read and hear about people&apos;s furst funerals when they were children. i felt exactly the same, like i was eight, surrounded by family, anonymous. i&apos;m not complaining, it just felt strange. my mother was the last to leave. she stroked his cheek and said &apos;dad.&apos;. i bit my lip so hard, i hugged my mother, didn&apos;t want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why am i like this? i didn&apos;t know him very well. he was still my grandfather. the first of my four grandparents to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he lay in the coffin, with his best suit on and his best tie, with bruises over his face, unshaved, with his hair gelled down. the rest of the family came in to mourn and it was left to his only son, my uncle Lyndon to have the coffin sealed. i sat in the living room around wailing aunties and silent uncles and weeping cousins and just stared ahead and thought about stuff. i don&apos;t know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first time i&apos;d seen a dead body in real life, and it happened to be my grandads. huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m sorting out the music for the funeral now, no hymns. so far its just &apos;ruby, don&apos;t take your love to town&apos; by kenny rogers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funeral tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;ve got a cold.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14771.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 30 Mar 2007 14:41:12 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14771.html</link>
  <description>Dats, my grandad, died last night. My mother said she didn&apos;t know whether it was in his sleep, or whether he fell out of bed or collapsed on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it doesn&apos;t really matter, because he&apos;s dead. i hardly saw him in the 20 years of my life, but i am so glad i managed to make it home to see his birthday last weekend. he was 70.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mother rang to tell me when i was walking on the seafront, i nearly broke down and had to walk home with tears running down my eyes. i haven&apos;t cried since. i feel sad, but i&apos;ve had a cigarette with some housemates and had a laugh about stuff but i can still feel a kind of sense of being on autopilot or something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the first time i lost someone was when suzy died in november, and now my grandfather in march. it&apos;s odd trying to cope with stuff like that. i don&apos;t know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the funeral is this week, it will be good to say goodbye and be around family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know if i just want to get drunk or stoned or sleep or cry or laugh or whatever. i suppose this is what they call grieving, like i said, i don&apos;t know, i&apos;m not used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don&apos;t have any pictures of him, and its very sad to think the last time i saw him, he looked terrible, like a skeleton with a cigaratte in his hands, looking very tired, almost waiting to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good bye.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14492.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 02 Dec 2006 17:05:16 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>1989-2006</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14492.html</link>
  <description>&lt;a href=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00004dpr/&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00004dpr&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, she&apos;s gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she&apos;s been gone for a week, since the 25th November. I was told this morning, by my parents, and I tried to fight tears, then i couldn&apos;t anymore. so i cried, hugging my mother, something i&apos;ve not done in years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m not crying now. i&apos;ve been laughing today. what is wrong? I feel like curling up and just bawling my throat out, but i can&apos;t. i hope i do soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i dont cry, does that mean i never loved her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did, i want her back, so far away from home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she&apos;s buried in the garden now. i&apos;m planting a tree with her at christmastime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my father explained how she was in the vets. she said &apos;you could see her drifting off, peaceful&apos;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what can i do now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goodbye.</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14492.html</comments>
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  <lj:reply-count>2</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14297.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 28 Nov 2006 01:18:11 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>suzy</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14297.html</link>
  <description>So i&apos;m on another downer. I&apos;ve been sat here, trying to write this essay for hours. I just can&apos;t write anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m worrying more and more about my dog. i don&apos;t know how to feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;ve been so utterly fortunate having never been old enough to realise what it&apos;s like to lose someone close to you, and i&apos;m so grateful about that, that i just can&apos;t put it into words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suzy&apos;s been with us for nearly sixteen years, and i just don&apos;t know how to cope if she has to be killed. she&apos;s so old and in so much pain (i think) now, that it&apos;s just inevitable. my family keep saying they hope she&apos;ll die in her sleep, but i want to be there when she goes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was there when we got her, i remember how small she was, i&apos;ve fucking grown up with that dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yes i realise i&apos;m typing about a dog, and no, i&apos;m not trying to gain any attention because i&apos;ve never lost anyone close to me yet. i can&apos;t help feeling that i&apos;ll break down when i stand in that horrible clinical room and watch the needle slide into her body, killing her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she&apos;s been so bad recently, she&apos;s lost bladder control, and i lose temper with her even though i try i try i try not to. she&apos;s so old, i will fucking miss her every single day when she&apos;s gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she&apos;s going to go before christmas this year. and now i can&apos;t help thinking, what with growing up and everything, that last christmas was my last enjoyable christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can&apos;t help thinking about how many times i&apos;ve taken her for granted, complained when she wanted to go out, to be fed, when i was drunk and wanted nothing more than to sleep. i hate myself for shouting at her when she coughs in the night waking me up, i wish i never ever did that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when she closes those eyes, her eyes that i&apos;ll remember forever and i&apos;ll make sure that i never forget them, i don&apos;t know what i&apos;ll do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m sat here still, with this unfinished essay, but now nothing seems to matter. i would walk to merthyr in the rain, in the dark, barefoot, if she could possibly get better and i would never have to see her go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never want her to leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i&apos;m in uni, and she&apos;s at home, probably coughing, trying to get to sleep, trying to drink water with her terrible old mouth and legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it will be like losing a family member. i cannot remember anything growing up without her. i&apos;ve had her since i was four. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please dont go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00003ypf/&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00003ypf/s320x240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/14297.html</comments>
  <lj:music>fix you</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">fix you</media:title>
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  <lj:reply-count>3</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/13949.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 22 Nov 2006 17:40:35 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>today</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/13949.html</link>
  <description>I woke up today in a terrible funk. Felt pretty bad. Didn&apos;t drink a lot, but spent most of the night trying to get some pot. That&apos;s what I do at night, is it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My room was in a state again, and there&apos;s so much work looming, it nearly got on top of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of last night when I was going up the hill on the bus. I love the bus. Because it&apos;s like walking past people in the street that you don&apos;t know and never will, but being trapped in a tiny moving box with them. You can look at them and see what they&apos;re like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I walked up to the uni, I started staring at a girl walking up the steps in front of me. Short skirt, tights. Sinew and flesh. Love to sink my teeth into those legs, fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I am in a great mood. Despite all the work coming up, I feel pretty good. I got my dissertation proposal in, drank coffee, smoked cigarettes (quitting didn&apos;t work), talked to strangers about Philip K. Dick, Tom Waits, Cardiacs, Sigur Ros. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gave Kylie the cat some milk in the kitchen. Listening to Mahavishnu Orchestra and I feel o.k.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/13767.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 17 Nov 2006 13:40:16 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>day two</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/13767.html</link>
  <description>so it&apos;s day two of giving up smoking. no nicotine patches or gum or anything, just stopping the cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it&apos;s hard. its sometimes like your mind is trying to convince your body you want to have one. every friday, i get an hour break, and thats when i used to love to have a coffee and a fag. just a coffee today. seeing people out in the courtyard smoking was DIFF-I-CULT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when i was at the union just now, i&apos;d finished eating my lunch, and i just thought &apos;hmm, a fag would be really nice about now.&apos; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i can&apos;t have any. i&apos;m feeling better for it, already. not out of breath walking through hugh owen, no smokey smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saving money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ll let you know how i get on.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/13520.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 12 Nov 2006 17:06:18 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>my own pet virus</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/13520.html</link>
  <description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00001h07/&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00001h07/s320x240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00002xdh/&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://pics.livejournal.com/marquischacha/pic/00002xdh/s320x240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today isn&apos;t so gloomy or windy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reading week&apos;s over, i must try to work a little more and save money, clean this room, clean up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</description>
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  <lj:music>mr trick</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">mr trick</media:title>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/12270.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 27 Jun 2004 23:37:39 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>taking stock</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/12270.html</link>
  <description>my name is [  ] and i&apos;m seventeen years old. i&apos;m not a virgin. I consider myself a smoker, a user of alcohol, and have used drugs, though i would like to be able to say i have used more.  i detest the fact that i am not more experienced in every essence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am unattractive, and become increasingly aware of that the more times i am engaged in social circles. but then again, they always invert and fuck up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i believe that the majority of the time, i am not worthy of my situation, that is to say a lover and friends and financial stability (nearly!). and things that i do totally regardless of the situation and position i may be in cause more pain for me generally. i cannot help who and what i am, for it&apos;s me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please please please i want to do something that matters, but i can&apos;t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh my, what a strange post, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;current position: sitting in the dark computer room, sherry tastes brilliant with fags and pot.  mmmmmm nice,</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/12270.html</comments>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/11509.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 04 May 2004 21:13:25 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/11509.html</link>
  <description>overeating unhappy no work done again for one of the most important times oin my life. feeling hated again, and that i&apos;m not much good at even stuff sent thru txt, useless once more. all i&apos;m fucking well trying to do is be a little decent and today i&apos;ve been a little sad and more dull than normal and now i&apos;ve gone and ripped it apart again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m so fucking sorry, i can&apos;t help it, it&apos;s like an illness or something&lt;br /&gt;and im stupid too fuck off</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/11509.html</comments>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/10862.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 23 Mar 2004 22:07:32 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>music</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/10862.html</link>
  <description>i&apos;ve just been re-listening to &apos;the complete recordings of robert
johnson&apos;, and it&apos;s amazing. i can&apos;t believe how i overlooked it. it&apos;s
just him, an open tuned guitar and a tape recorder. some of the things
that he wrote and played that many years ago, i think it was sometime
in the early twenties are so much more sophisticated than most players
today.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
and his voice is the scariest i&apos;ve ever heard, he just moans and grits
his voice on the record, and the story of the recording session told
that halfway thru the song &apos;Me and the Devil Blues&apos;, he got up and
smacked his head into the corner of the room, and played and sung,
leaning face first into the wall.&lt;br&gt;
ah, it&apos;s just great...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;img src=&quot;http://afgen.com/robert.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
x&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/10862.html</comments>
  <lj:music>robert johnson - i believe i&apos;ll dust my broom</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">robert johnson - i believe i&apos;ll dust my broom</media:title>
  <lj:mood>chipper</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/10164.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 21 Mar 2004 17:06:03 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>nothing</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/10164.html</link>
  <description>not beng doing a lot at all..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;took my dog out for a walk in this park sort of place. she ran off to sniff other dogs and whatnot, and i sat under a tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then the sky lit up and went kkkkkrackcrrrrrrr and lit up again. so underneath a very tall tree was not the best place ta be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;drove off with mah dawg and saw someone drive into a ditch. person got out, irritated and seemed to complain primarily because he&apos;d just cleaned it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i&apos;m bored again. i&apos;m not doing anything mroe on my demo because i don&apos;t want the songs to piss me off..yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah i&apos;ve nothing interesting to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye then xx</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/10164.html</comments>
  <lj:music>penderecki</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">penderecki</media:title>
  <lj:mood>apathetic</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/9758.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 16 Mar 2004 21:07:19 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>today</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/9758.html</link>
  <description>today i&apos;m feeling ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my song that i&apos;ve been having trouble with for months has started to work, and my artwork is due in tomorrow but i&apos;m not panicking about it. im just getting on with it</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/9758.html</comments>
  <lj:music>in my room</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">in my room</media:title>
  <lj:mood>blank</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/9700.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 15 Mar 2004 00:02:12 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/9700.html</link>
  <description>Q. Examine the presentation of dystopia in both Brave New World and Nineteen Eighty-Four.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
A. It&apos;s a very good presentation.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
i&apos;m bored and feeling stupid&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
la la la la bored bored cold cold tired snore&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
ngihtnightgnihtngiht&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/9700.html</comments>
  <lj:music>the queen is dead</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">the queen is dead</media:title>
  <lj:mood>cold</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8981.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 08 Mar 2004 13:49:15 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8981.html</link>
  <description>&lt;img src=&quot;http://images.quizilla.com/O/obsidiandream/1047528401_asethebats.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;Horror bat!  Bite!  Sex vampire!  Bite!&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;You&apos;re &quot;Release the Bats,&quot; a song that&lt;br&gt;involes screaming the words &quot;Sex!&quot;&lt;br&gt;&quot;Bite!&quot; and &quot;Vampire!&quot;&lt;br&gt;You&apos;re probably either goth or a nymphomaniac.&lt;br&gt;Or both.  &quot;Realease the bats!&quot;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://quizilla.com/users/obsidiandream/quizzes/Which%20Nick%20Cave%20Song%20Are%20You%3F/&quot;&gt; &lt;font size=&quot;-1&quot;&gt;Which Nick Cave Song Are You?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;font size=&quot;-3&quot;&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href=&quot;http://quizilla.com&quot;&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;



uhh.</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8981.html</comments>
  <lj:music>none</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">none</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8465.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 07 Mar 2004 19:59:29 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8465.html</link>
  <description>boredomboreddomboredomination-is-whats-needed-here&lt;br /&gt;i can&apos;t seem to write anything. im so bored and theres ideas going so fast bouncing around my skull that it feels like bzz bzz flies inside my bzz brain1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worked this morning. walked into a metal pole. maybe it improved the face-who knows???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then changed a speaker in my car because it blew, then potched about in my room, dropped the fucking stereo speakers on the floor, for fucks sake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;big big amp in the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then artwork most of the night which was ok, but i&apos;m bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good news aswell,  my mouth is getting better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hair is loong in the back now, it annoys and tickles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like a bath, and my stomachs talking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: hallo stomach how are you?&lt;br /&gt;stomach:B-B-B-BLLLLLLLWWEERRRRRRR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: really? hmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah, got something in my fucking eye&lt;br /&gt;(is it an eyeball?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ho ho ho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i am incredibly bored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;]]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah nuhnight thenxxxxxx&lt;br /&gt;xx&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xx</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8465.html</comments>
  <lj:music>the birthday party - kiss me black</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">the birthday party - kiss me black</media:title>
  <lj:mood>BORED</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8310.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 03 Mar 2004 21:21:36 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8310.html</link>
  <description>i passed my test, i feel so much better now, i can get in my car and drive wherever i want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earlier, i drove to this place called pontsticill, and it was so unbelievably foggy and dark, and i had nine inch nails&apos; &apos;The Downward Spiral&apos; [Album], and fucking hell...it was so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some points i was going so fast in this dark, i could hardly see, and it was just wow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i stopped in a little pull over spot and had &apos;A Warm Place&apos; on, and fucking hell, i was sealed in this mobile box, in the middle of nowhere, and i had such a wide perception of things then...i love it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxxx</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8310.html</comments>
  <lj:music>Alec Empire - intelligence and sacrifice</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">Alec Empire - intelligence and sacrifice</media:title>
  <lj:mood>calm</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8163.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2004 22:31:09 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8163.html</link>
  <description>stunted shrunk diminished stunted now im small small growing smaller or whatever the correct fucking verb is for &apos;growing&apos; smaller. feel about as big as a dead ant underneath someone&apos;s shoe. trying to write things productivley is getting harder also and now i&apos;m hated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck this im going, i&apos;ll tell you whether i&apos;m mobile or not tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;let me just want luck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;br /&gt;xxxxxxxxxx</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/8163.html</comments>
  <lj:music>no</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">no</media:title>
  <lj:mood>none</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7669.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2004 17:34:54 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>even after everything, you&apos;re the queen and i&apos;m the king</title>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7669.html</link>
  <description>i&apos;m feeling low. i&apos;m doing badly in school, i can&apos;t concentrate, i know i will almost certainly fail my test</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7669.html</comments>
  <lj:music>aphex twin - i care because you do</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">aphex twin - i care because you do</media:title>
  <lj:mood>down</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7336.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 29 Feb 2004 23:24:18 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7336.html</link>
  <description>i fucking love ruining thinfs all the fucking time. all the fucking time. i hate it, i cant help what i am, i dont mean thisesse things,.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuckit, i cant help what i am</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7336.html</comments>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7020.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 29 Feb 2004 21:29:46 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7020.html</link>
  <description>sunday night, and i&apos;m so bored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow&apos;s monday (obviously) and eugh. tuesday is my driving test day tho and i hope i hope i hope i hope i hope i pass it, because i&apos;ll be effin gutted if i don&apos;t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but ya know, i bet monday night there&apos;ll be a freak blizzard/typhoon/apocalypse which&apos;ll prevent me from taking the test. hey ho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;ll letcha know how my test went..</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/7020.html</comments>
  <lj:music>penderecki</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">penderecki</media:title>
  <lj:mood>tired</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/4979.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 04 Feb 2004 22:47:12 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/4979.html</link>
  <description>im bored out of my tiny skull (again). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the exciting part. I spent tonight:&lt;br /&gt;Having a bath&lt;br /&gt;Sorting out my CDs, Books and Videos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaaaaaaaaaand that&apos;s about it. I seem to have lost a few CDs, but gained a few videos. I was going to sort my records out, but i had a long think and came up with &apos;fuck it&apos;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, i saw the Beth Orton video for &apos;Stolen Car&apos; last night, and i didn&apos;t find her attractive in it. That put me on a big downer all night. I felt like going to a Saloon and saying to the bartender: &quot;I&apos;ll have a whisky, Joe. She don&apos;t love me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that&apos;s all very silly. I think in her heart of hearts, Beth Orton will always love me.</description>
  <comments>http://marquischacha.livejournal.com/4979.html</comments>
  <lj:music>JSBX - Acme</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">JSBX - Acme</media:title>
  <lj:mood>blah</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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