so unfulfilling.

after spending the past two weeks in an excruciating search for the wasurenai kara pv, finally i have it. there was a torrent available on the publicMM tracker about six months ago - all of his pv's, a few cm's and tv appearances. of course, in the switch between m$ and fedora, hard drive space was tight and the gackuto had to go.

all that happened as a precursor to the recent blog absence over the past few months... for the moment, the faux-blue-eyed japanese rockstar was gone. not forgotten.

his look is about as natural as -- anything about the kano sisters, for example. but just like the kano sisters, it doesn't matter. both [all three, to be exact] have a sexy-synthetic look, but the mysterious gackt is actually an adequate vocalist. and according to jihaku, he is both: a) somewhat gorgeous and b) not firmly in possession of a stable mind.

there are particular elements of media that serve as anchors for psychological states. the re-experience of those media triggers memories -- the video/audio/text frames the moment, allowing a kind of re-entry into sensations and thoughts of the past. at the moment of wasurenai kara, my mind was changing, gathering momentum toward the lifestyle adjustments that must seem unthinkable to those who knew me before: i wake up earlier now; the sense of humor strikes at different moments; sarcasm and sullen anger is now increasingly counterbalanced by a disinterested shrug (and maybe a wisecrack).

having written that, i train harder on a consistent basis than ever before, and the intensity feels normal where before it would have been a strain. in a way, i feel less need for violence, but a greater acceptance of its inevitability.

what does that mean? i don't know...

and the catalyst for this repurposed mental state? i can't quite pinpoint it, and not all of this change feels better than what came before. feeling more like myself is not necessarily better than the years that came before. this "naturalness" is in a sense contrived; in a reductive sense, it is little more than the replacement of one set of habits with another.

it seems, though, that this sense of self is more adaptable than its predecessor; less prone to stress, more likely to act on a well-considered impulse than to brood and worry.

death comes to mind with more strength and frequency. part of me doesn't want these changes, and wants instead to destroy itself. not a subtle feeling at all, but at the same time, neither characterized by panic nor fear. just a reminder that life needs to have more positives than negatives, otherwise the outcome is quite clear.

my hand has been forced; i make these changes out of necessity. and that is the only real fear left: what if the endpoint of this transformation leads away from the crucial detour that i have been looking for all this time?

if only death were temporary, and reincarnation a certainty... if only i could kid myself into shrugging off the questions; if only for the myopic peace of mind that a closed, "single" mind brings.

audio: ltj bukem . point of view

over time, creative repetition gains new meaning.

this side of the earth's face slowly rotates away from the pale daylight, bringing an empty shroud of darkness earlier every day. the moon rises later, shining brightly on my skin as i reach out toward an absence of sensation.

after seven hours, my eyes open to a day of long shadows, fast workouts, hazy deadlines, alternation between speed-up and slow-down, diurnal wanderings interspersed with fuzzy violent dreams.

it seems that quiet, nagging thoughts eventually coalesce toward a critical point -- an expected but unpredictable form of expression. the resulting change in direction takes place only when necessary, as it feels impossible to continue otherwise.

days become longer now, the sun warmer and breath easier, the shadows untangle from my mind, releasing my thoughts.

at a glance, things have changed on the inside: a new sleep schedule, new computing environment, a calmer, more flexible mindset, and a transformation from rebellion to positive expression. the rebellious instinct now enables creative expression rather than paralyzing inhibition.

after all of this studying-thinking-dreaming, the stage is set for actually becoming.

as if a new year is beginning.

audio: lusine . rushhour

*loud yawn in the background*

maru: time to wake up, saru... the sun is coming back!
saru: but my prehensile tail... it's gone!?

maru: yes! we used to eat humans, but now they are our friends!
saru: but... how will i scratch that spot between my shoulderblades?!

maru: here, let me do that for you!
. . .
saru: mm, maru, you have... breasts? so perky and round!

maru: oo, saru, looks like -- your tail isn't really gone after all!
saru: well yes -- it does seem as though things are looking up, aren't they!

maru: *mowr*
saru: *rowr*

====
note: maru is a fictional character.