Log in

Kiru Banzai's Journal

> recent entries
> calendar
> friends
> profile
> previous 20 entries

Sunday, May 12th, 2002
7:42 pm - 7 come 11
Cain stared at Kirie. She blinked, a long, slow blink which could not have been more effective had she had two sets of eyelids. She continued to stare.

"Allison?" she ventured. Kirie did not respond.

Cain turned her head 45° to the right. "Eleison?" Kirie twitched nervously, but did not look around.



"Jesus fucking Christ! What did you do to your hair?"

"I had to get it cut after you LEFT ME FOR DEAD! You bitch! They were going to hang me!"

"Oh yes. That. How did that all pan out for you, anyway?"

Kirie walked over and punched Cain in the head.

(10 comments | comment on this)

Saturday, April 6th, 2002
7:22 pm - nevertheless
At 26 miles-per-hour, my bicycle begins to shake itself apart. I know and you know that this is because such a speed reminds it that it can be a bird, and so it stretches and strains against the metal frame, and if I dared to go a little faster the wheels would break in two and become long bones, and the spokes would become feathers and the frame would crack and groan as the sinuous s-curve of a spine broke through and I wouldn't need handlebars anymore because it would take me in its arms and we would fly. But if I told anyone they'd probably say my alignment was off and take it in to get a tune-up.




Maybe there's a point after which I stop & have eggs and sausage and then it's all whizzing downhill at impossible speeds. But I doubt it.

(3 comments | comment on this)

Monday, April 1st, 2002
8:05 pm - blood inside the flower
I was sad that I had no fingerless leather gloves, until I met a man with no arms. So I said to him, "Hey, man, if you've got a pair of fingerless leather gloves lying around, y'know, that you're not using..."

(3 comments | comment on this)

Tuesday, March 19th, 2002
11:03 pm - a wilderness of night
I feel better.

(1 comment | comment on this)

Monday, March 18th, 2002
11:57 pm - but I have my boots on
Capricorn: (Dec. 22Jan. 19)

Try not to hold those you love to impossible standards, such as being able to love you back.

--The Onion

(1 comment | comment on this)

8:16 pm - alphabetical by letter
so, this is christmas.

I don't like Election. I love the editing techniques it uses. I think it's clever & funny. But it presents a bleak, brownish-grey portrait of humanity that I find distasteful. Personally I think high school is beautiful. But I live in Boulder.

Now here's a bleak portrait of humanity that I like, by Alexander Pope:

Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Skeptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest,
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast,
In doubt his mind or body to prefer;
Born but to die, and reasoning but to err.

Also saw Me Myself I, not to be confused with Me Myself and Irene, nor with Hedwig And The Angry Inch, although apparently the same actress plays Hedwig as Irene the main character in Me Myself I[at this point I am kidding]. Notwithstanding the nattering nonsense of the foregoing, I liked that movie. Execpt I would have pretty much immediately [upon finding myself suddenly endowed with a husband & three children, a dog, a morgage, a crappy job writing for a women's mag, and an affair] walked out and gotten back the award-winning job at the investagative magazine, the nice flat, and the crushing loneliness & ticking biological clock. I'd have to say I hate Saturn quite a bit.

abstract idea without specifics, yet easily recogniseable as a reference to a specific event. Well, not easily. Vaguely worded. Diatribe.

(no response)

Specific event, tied in to a larger idea. Metaphor. Simile.

(no response)

Description of private pain. Angst.

(no response)

Fiction. Movie review. Comedy routine.

(no response)

uh...let's see...threat of suicide?


Hey, that's pretty fucked up.

(4 comments | comment on this)

Friday, March 15th, 2002
9:40 pm - the way you treat me likely only slightly brings me down a lot
I don't think that I'll ever be the same.
If I....

The story being called, of course, "I would offer up a brick to the back of your head, boy (if I was Cain)" So, they are both very young boys, and Abel is just everyone's glass of sunshine, including Cain's. Cain's world has suddenly become very narrow, and it consists of exactly one person. (Obvious "the only two people in the world" metaphor goes here.) Everything else is secondary. This begins to present a problem when Cain enters kindergarten and his agressive tendencies get someone to play out on. Alienation & numerous calls home to parents follow. It's all good, though, because when he gets home he gets to take care of his brother, and Eve gets a martini break. And...eh...wackiness ensues, I guess...I don't know, I am very tired. Also wary of talking about the incest angle.

I desire:
a) A complete dissolution of all my bonds with members of the human race, making me the perfect, self-sufficient being.
b) That everyone should like me & want to talk to me.
c) Steak.
d) True love. Then I can be a misanthropic bitch to the rest of the human race, yet still get the "people like me" thing.
e) Man, do I want some steak.

(1 comment | comment on this)

Thursday, March 14th, 2002
9:56 pm - three four five/look at him jive
If I want to hurt you, I'll do it to your face. I won't put it on here. This space is for me.

I want to be crabbed. I want to be spidery. I want to be smooth and flowing. I want to be neat copperplate. What I have right now is scratchy, angular & erratic. I want to have something I wouldn't be ashamed to write with a quill pen. Speed is also an issue.

It strikes me that this is as good a forum as any to begin the discussion of what is good and what is bad. Having made the assertion that I've known one basically good person in my life, I'll start. A good person is someone who is true to the morals they espouse.
Q: If you're talking about people who aren't hypocrites, you know plenty of people who are "good people."
K: Okay, I should add a clause which says that to be "good," you have to be more interesting than unbuttered whole wheat toast.
Q: Isn't that slightly unfair?
K: No.
Q: Um...okay. I feel that at this point we should talk about religious people.
K: Oh, God or lack thereof. It doesn't count if your morals are ingrained into you with a steel chisel from birth. You have to arive at them by thought and experience, and hence be not one-sided as unbuttered whole wheat toast.
Q: Toast has two sides.
K: If you think I'm giving up this metaphor, you are very wrong.
Q: So you're saying that "good" implies "intelligent".
K: You know, I've agonised about it for a couple of minutes, and I see no reason to mollycoddle the stupid. I sense that this might offend people. But for the life of me I can't see why.
Q: I'm guessing arrogance? If someone who considers you stupid were to see this, it would annoy them that you elevate yourself so.
K: Well, but someone who considers me stupid isn't a good person!
Q: Do you mean they're not intelligent, or not nice?
K: The second.
Q: So now you're getting out of the morally relativistic stance you took to begin with.
K: Well, you can see that it has flaws.
Q: Like, if someone were to espouse that everyone should go around killing & raping each other.
K: The very example I was thinking of.
Q: Well, obviously.

*five minute break for snacks*

Q: So besides practicing what he preaches, a good person's morals have to line up with your own.
K: Beyond some basic social tenets like "don't kill people," that doesn't have to be true.
Q: You mentioned niceness.
K: There's some sort of social dynamic going on there. Like who's more important to you, you or the person you're interacting with, so don't hurt her feelings. I don't know. I'm never going to understand that except in the most abstract terms.
Q: It seems like that's something you have to understand to interact even on the simplest level with people.
K: I suppose I have some sort of learned response to social situations, gleaned from years & years of being a girl, but I don't understand it on such an intellectual level that I could go make changes in it for the better.
Q: That's pretty abstract right there.
K: Right you are. And we should stop.
Q: But I cannot!
K: No! We can beat this thing, together!
Q: Hold me.

*End of Act One*

(1 comment | comment on this)

Wednesday, March 13th, 2002
9:38 pm - whispering bells
(Okay, here I want you to imagine I've written a long & rambling entry about how I like Cryptonomicon and how catharsis is the best thing ever. This serves the purpose of making the next line funnier.)

Oh, & I came out to my parents today, too.

(See, because that's something I could've written an entire entry about, which would seem to matter more than my meandering Crypto/catharsis rant, and yet here I am, only mentioning it as the very last line. Dramatic reversals, baby!)

(2 comments | comment on this)

Tuesday, March 12th, 2002
9:58 pm - come what may do you ever long for true love from me?
Talk about the pain we feel when we do bad. What about the pain that's just there regardless of what we do? SO LONELY. of course most people think it's normal to live with a nameless sorrow at the bottom of their soul. There's an awful lot of romantic songs in this movie for all it's about prepubescent boys. and darlin' darlin' stand by me...

Have I mentioned that god is stalking me?

So where should I start? Adam and Eve were happy newlyweds, wrapped up completely in each other. And before they knew what was happening, Eve was pregnant. They smiled at each other and promised that nothing would change. Eve would wake up at night and feel the baby kicking and bite down on her fist to keep from screaming. Adam touched her like a china plate after he found out, and later on not at all.
Eve was eighteen hours in labor. The nurse put the baby in her hands afterwards, and through the haze of drugs she felt the alarm bells going off in her head. Of course she would stay at home with the baby. Certainly she would do what any good and loving mother would, and forgo the evenings out, the dinner parties, the things she used to love, and be a full-time mother. Cain was unable to sleep through the night, and the job of quieting him would fall to Eve, because Adam had been hard at work all day, and Eve had only been at home. Cain refused to be quieted. He had a clear, piercing shriek unlike anything Eve had ever heard. After he had subsided, for no discernable cause than that he had tired himself out, Eve would go back to bed and get two or three hours of sleep. Then Adam would shake her awake and ask her to please deal with the baby, he had to work tomorrow.
Cain got older. When he learned to talk, his favorite word was "Mine!" Whenever his mother lay a hand on some object in the house, Cain would scream "MINE! MINE!" until she put it down. He coveted his toys when his parents touched them, but threw them out of his crib once they were gone.
When Cain turned four, Eve was again pregnant. Abel was almost a month premature, but healthy, soft and pink with unfocused blue eyes. Cain had stayed at an aunt's during the delivery, and after they returned home his father took him in to meet the new baby. When Cain saw Abel his eyes got big and he got very quiet. He asked if he could hold his new brother. Adam gave Abel to him with some trepidation, at the ready in case Cain should drop him or do something unpredictable. Cain looked at Abel in quiet wonder for a long time before his parents decided that Abel needed rest and shooed him out of the room.
Abel was an extraordinarily good baby. Even when he got the colic Eve was thankful he had not been as bad as Cain. She never thought of it in terms of loving one son more or less, all she knew was that Cain was now a good, quiet toddler who wanted to help her with the baby, that her life before had been something akin to hell and that now it was much, much easier.

(comment on this)

Sunday, March 10th, 2002
8:43 pm - yours truly
Last night I woke at 3 AM out of sheer longing.

I think I was gonna talk about the hot-button issue of youth, and why Ken Hamblin is an idiot. And then I was going to talk about something else. I don't think I'll bother. I'm losing a lot of patience very quickly. Like pennies out of a broken plastic bag. I'd like to write like Neal Stephenson, a bit, but mostly I'd like to read more of him.

I suppose I'm going to have to find some form of spirituality. Stupid predestination.

(3 comments | comment on this)

Saturday, March 9th, 2002
8:11 pm - hammer down rabbit ears hammer down
Of course, it is much more important to have a safe-breaking algorithim than to have one particular solution to a safe-breaking problem.

Thinking about sin, lately. The only kind of sin I feel anymore is literary. Contemplating the creation of Bobby Shaftoe/Lawrence Prichard Waterhouse/Alan Turing slash, that's the kind of thing a vengeful god strikes you down for. I must do penance every time I start writing Betty & Veronica instead of Watchmen. It's hard, too, since I tend towards the direct narrative & not the subtle social metaphor. I thought the Civil Rights For Lupine-Americans campaign was pretty good, though. As well as Roxy's reaction.
Roxy: So, uh...is it catching?
Burne: Lycanthropy? You can't really get it unless I bite you, not like if I kiss you or anything-- *grins* --unless I bite you.
Roxy: What's it like?
Burne: It's pretty okay, you're just a wolf three days a month, which is nice. Plus, I don't get periods.
Roxy: *holding out arm* BITE ME!! BITE ME!!

Anyway, most of today has been about substitutions, as well as about melting my glasses beyond recognition. No paint? A mixture of wood glue and eyeshadow sealed with a layer of clear nail polish should do nicely. No bating for the armature? The ancients used newspaper, you should be able to do just fine with kleenex. No expensive fabrics? Hell, I can cut up this old t-shirt, and boy do dryer sheets look cool. We don't appear to have any epoxy, though, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need some kind of glue, as well as some kind of hairish material. Also I'm going to have to learn to sew.

(comment on this)

Friday, March 8th, 2002
8:55 pm - throw me to the dogs of progress
I love talking to that guy. It always cheers me up. Because I get to see firsthand how much better my life is than his. Sure, the cost is an eternity in hell, but hey! Free porn! Woo!

Today it fogged. I could melt. We never get fog here, because the sun is too sharp, and the clouds prefer to graze on the other size of the mountains, only rarely jumping the fence into the wind shadow. I want to go to Seattle. Midday the fog turned into tiny hail, and by two o'clock had decided to give it a miss and go right on into snow. So it snowed, and I went out to eat.

Apparently, a young person eating alone is a rare and fascinating thing, much like a sideshow. From the number of people who turned around to stare in amazement at my daring consumption of stir-fry, I must have been the most interesting thing to come to that restaurant, ever. Then again, it could have been the hair. I can never rule that out entirely. Small children, for example, are always staring at my head, sometimes for hours on end. Well, no more of that, come this summer.

In closing, please enjoy this comic.

(comment on this)

Wednesday, March 6th, 2002
8:39 pm - if it's a crime then I'm guilty / guilty of loving you
I hadn't cried for a while. not since I got sick, I think. All of my dreams these days are about transporting fish. Last night God was speaking to me through this flattish goldfish I kept on my face. I was wandering around trying to find a glass of water for it. Eventually its eyes clouded over and it turned green and died.

So now I'm going to talk about my cat. She is extremely lovely, all black with silk fur and celydon eyes. This is what she does. When I'm doing my homework or relaxing, drawing or reading or basically anything that uses at least one of my hands, she will scratch at my door and mewl pitiously until I let her in. Sometimes this will go on for ten minutes. Once she ripped up all the carpet outside my door. Once inside, she will sit on whatever I'm doing and bite me until I pet her. After I've done the requisite amount of petting, she will bite me until I stop, and then sit on the edge of the bed until she decides to go out of my room, at which point I will have to let her out. This happens on an average of three times a night.

Now: I say to myself, isn't this a great model for a relationship?

See, now, this is why I never talk to anyone.

(comment on this)

Monday, March 4th, 2002
8:34 pm - use this ability only during your upkeep
I figure, as long as I'm robbing Peter anyway, I should at least have the decency to pay Paul, after all he's done for me. Unfortunately, I'm not robbing ol' Pete because I have to, but because I refuse to take any money out of my checking account.

And it's a metaphor if you know what I mean. How have you been?

My internal life is dangerously interesting. I always worry, because if I'm interested in something, that's a sure sign that I will try it once & abandon it. E.g., the whole Superman thing. Although, now that I think of it, I remember abandoning that because I was too interested in it. But, I ramble on, much in the manner of Burne, and I grandiloquize, like unto Loki. And I'm short and to the point, like Poet & Kelly, linguistically similar if nothing else, and I don't say much of anything, like Roxy. I'm not really a robot, though. Used to be. Not anymore.

I really don't know what else to comment on, except to say that I'm particularly attached to this. Also I want to watch more westerns. You know why? Because British people tell me they are America and I feel a guilty little thrill every time one a' them damn eastern city folks gets hisself near nigh shot up for bein' a stupid ponce.

Speaking of western toughness, after the recent -5 degree weather, I took off my coat in the 35 degree morning and said to myself, "Ah...balmy."

(comment on this)

Sunday, March 3rd, 2002
10:22 am - ipso facto half not be
I guess I want to be a glass bell. The fragility is a fair sacrifice for the sound. So you can see me inside of them, I suppose, or you could just leave the image of me in the backround, I guess, and watch your own reflection superimposed. It's all good.

Amelie ruined me for movies & tv. Now it's always "WATCH THE ROAD! DEAR GOD!"

Now I'm thinking of a glass tombstone, maybe filled with rose petals. People come & knock over stone tombstones, would they do the same with one made of glass? I don't understand the impulse to destroy. I understand the impulse to mess with, it's, y'know, like an iron in a forge. It needs a fire to shape it aright, creativity which is the fire. And if you think I care that I'm butchering that quote, you're wrong. It looks better as cold cuts than it ever did as a headless carcass. If I'm not careful I could get way too deep into that last metaphor & discover a basic human trait. Instead I'm going to think about...uh...pie. Yeah. Pie which is like the basic human characteristic of--

No more metaphors. Reality time.

. . .

. . .


. . .

. . .

So, how was that for you?

But, I ought to say, indiscriminate use of metaphors is bad. Like, I liked the fence story, but the things not always being what they seemed one was stupid, as was the donkey. Great, so in my beneficence I decided not to kill this guy's wife, just take away their only source of income and doom them both to a long and painful death of starvation. And I made it slightly more difficult for a rich person to reach his money. Sounds like God's a conservative. Except for the making-money-access-more-difficult part.
And then there's the donkey. Wow, my donkey fell down a well and miraculously didn't break its legs. Since there's no possible way to get it out (I can think of five or six off the top of my head), I'll do the humane thing and BURY IT ALIVE. Hey, the donkey's trying to avoid this in some way! What's with that? Oh, I get it--he can get out if he just keeps packing down the dirt I throw on him. Hooray, I got my donkey back! And all it cost me was my only source of water! Hooray! The moral of this story: People who don't know what they're doing, but are doing it "for your own good" + people who are idiots = an end to all the world's ills!

Violins are cool.

(3 comments | comment on this)

Thursday, February 28th, 2002
7:09 pm - you get a shiver in the dark it's raining in the park but meantime
I'm not lying.

So, I woke up this morning and went to school, and the moon was so beautiful as it dipped into the clouds, I couldn't believe it. There was a woman walking her two dogs on the way to the bus stop, and one of them was yellow-pretty. I really enjoyed listening to my music on the bus.
Then I got to school and met Megan, who was the only person who was there yet, and she showed me her picture of Hades that she was doing for mythology class. It was sooo cute, especially the furies, and Cerberus had this little spikey tail. It made me happy.
Then I went to weight training, and that was good because I got away with not doing anything and the teacher never noticed. And that girl was wearing her grey pants, those are so hot.
Second period I got time off to go to the library, and I got to check my e-mail.
I felt a little down third period, and Luna was so nice and cheered me up and gave me part of her cookie. It was soft and sweet with crunchy sugar on top. We did a cool Spare assignment fourth, with Truth and Beauty representing realism and romanticism.
In Japanese I drew the political chibis I'm gonna start a comic strip about, Radical Reg and Liberal Lou and Conservative Cal and Moderate Mac. I love Reg's expressions, and Cal's little suit.
Then I had delicious chicken sandwich & fries with mustard for lunch, plus part of Melek's crusts, 'cause he was nice.
Sixth period I learned about mathematic induction. It's cool, like, if you can prove that the second turtle is sitting on the first turtle's back, and for turtle k, turtle k+1 is sitting on its back, then you can prove you have turtles all the way up.
Seventh period we told dirty jokes and got the assignment done. Kate's really funny, and also so pretty.
Then I went to Japan Bowl practice, and Dani gave me her binder full of Haruka/Michiru doujinshi and Japanglish, and I laughed all the way home.

I'm not lying.

So I woke up tired for no reason. I got enough sleep, but I was dead on my feet. We had oatmeal, which was gross, and then I was almost late for the bus because I couldn't find my utena manga. I froze my nose off getting to the bus stop and a dog attacked me. And every day I have to fight tooth & nail for my own seat, because everyone on the bus is a loser or freshmen or high-pitched girl. I play music to drown them out. It doesn't always work. Their voices get into my brain.
Nobody I really wanted to talk to was at school yet, so I went directly to weight training.
God, I hate that class! All the teacher ever pays attention to are the damn jocks, and he gives all the girls the same grade, regardless of whether they work their asses off or paint their nails all period. I was really tired, so I just wandered from machine to machine and looked like I was working if the teacher glanced over.
The beginning of second period this cheerleader comes up to me with a stack of papers and says, "Since you're not doing anything as group leader, I got these notes together and organized myself." Drama queens like that need to chill out and realize that we're still in the individual research portion of our project. And the teacher told us grade conferences were coming up soon. Dear god.
I was completely wiped out third, and no help came from my friends, who just tried to bribe me with food.
Fourth, Spare gave us a Hobson's choice and graded us on whether or not we participated.
I hate the people in my Japanese class. I just want to sit in the corner and hum with my fingers in my ears.
Lunch, same thing as every day. Crystal and I moaned about how sixth period should be banned. My sweater wasn't warm enough.
Math is incredibly boring and I'm failing.
Science I sat around while people told stupid jokes. I could have been using my time more effctively, like by jabbing my eye out with a pencil.
Then I got dragged to Japan Bowl practice again, where I spent the entire time zoning out before going out into the wind for the long bus ride home.

I'm not lying.

Today there was snow from a clear blue sky.
There's a girl in my class who thinks she's completely ordinary, who I love passionately, ardently, so hard it burns. She thinks she's nothing special. I think she's everything in the world that's beautiful. I will never speak to her or make eye contact with her or smile at her, but I will love her with every fiber of my being until the day I die.

I'm lying.

(1 comment | comment on this)

Wednesday, February 27th, 2002
7:51 am - to be a millionaire--was it likely?
today's word is: insulate. or isolate. I forget.

so what?

So I want to think you like me. I want to think you'd love to visit me quite soon and kiss me through the bars. Is the solution not to say what I think? not to think what I think? maybe I should convert to catholicism.

seen me in your eyes and I am dead.... just say I'm the only bee in your bonnet. this is the speed of my thinking. one thought per song.

But I suppose I shouldn't write anything to depress. or about blood. i don't know what i could write about, what i should. i'll stop.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Monday, February 25th, 2002
10:02 pm - I'm all used up I'm out of luck I am starstruck
Cruel, coming from the latin for "raw." Rubbed raw by time and effort and expenditure, and was there a time when I did not feel like this?

A blanket of snow will help, but only if we can stay home tomorrow. I forgot to learn my lesson before dying, or maybe I just neglected it.

I'm tired. I really am. I can't express that enough. I want to lie down and let someone soothe me, but there's no one I'd want to do that. I don't trust anyone to care for me anymore. I want to be the girl. I don't trust myself not to be in control. I used to believe I was selfish. I don't know what I believe now. I don't believe in Beatles. I just believe in me.

Bonus! Find all the contradictions Kiru has made in her last two paragraphs and win a prize! A stupid prize, to be sure, but it's not like you win things that often, is it?

(comment on this)

8:10 am - from the silence from the night comes a distant lullaby
Took a math test. Halfway through, suddenly noticed that I was dripping blood out of my head. Loathe to disturb the class by getting up & asking for a kleenex, I just sat there, bleeding onto my hands and the desk and the test and the calculator and trying to remember how to find the inverse of a 3X3 matrix. Which I failed to do. Turned bloody, incomplete test in, went to the bathroom to wash. And I gotta tell ya, that stuff just does not come out. Returned to class, realized that no one had noticed me bleeding, had noticed me leaving. So that's not the answer. Maybe it's violence towards others. I might try that some time.

second entry: cain & abel love story, my funny valentine, valley of the dolls, what I've learned.

(comment on this)

> previous 20 entries
> top of page