Candy lost his virginity. Celebration.

For Kant, adorning oneself is not a state of altruism but of sociability and communication in the subconscious level with the aura of power, commanding respect. Just like Elizabeth Taylor, the famous seductress,who knew what the powers of jewelry were. She enchanted and used many men not by just demanding jewelry: she demanded the “gift” of jewelry, only for the wish for her love in return. By seeming to succumb to a man’s wishes by accepting gifts from them, in reality she was the ruler – the ravisher becoming the ravished. We also see this in the power-plays between Abby and Amad his ‘butch’ lesbian lover, when Amad the master dominates Abby the slave by choking him at first and then sliding a choker necklace on her neck which gives the reigns of power to Abby: Amad becomes the slave when Abby is adorned by twelve Burmese rubies, empowered: beautiful.

In Abby’s path to becoming a woman, Sally’s Salon for Turning Little Boys into Little Girls had a big effect, but that effect was not as big as the urge he had to wear jewelry – inseparable from the desire to wear it like a woman. This urge gave him the virtue of the place he occupied on the gender line, that is why as he writes about jewelry, gender is constantly in view. For Abby, wearing jewelry is the externalization of everything he longed to be but isn’t yet, an attachment to the body making him feel like a woman, like himself. He is imitating a woman becoming mannish, as Coco Chanel’s view of the liberated modern woman was. Abby is an actor from a Shakespearean play, a boy playing at being a woman dressed as a man disguised as a girl. In the end, he is ready to abandon her jewelry and give them to Zeem, as he now appreciates the fact that a woman naked is already adorned. He becomes a he-woman, a “man” like Katharine Hepburn, who doesn’t wear jewelry. He wants to be his own ornament, adorned by nothing other than the beauty of himself.

At last, i'm back on livejournal. ahhh

It's been two years - i'm still sexually frustrated and the only mammals which like lying in my bed are asian girls asian girls and asian girls

and a strand of my hair just got stuck in the hinges of my glasses - shit

Date:	2004-09-27 01:00
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	pissed off

Sheets - failed

Candles - failed

Wine- failed

Reservation - failed

Condoms - failed

Lube - failed

Knowledge of seductive words in Russian - fuck that shit, i'm not touching gay(ish)slavs ever again, proud fucked up bastards.

Candy's first sex experience was that of a lesbian's.

Beware - really REALLY pissed off about it

Sheets - check

Candles - check

Wine- check

Reservation - check

Condoms - check

Lube - check

Knowledge of seductive words in Russian - shit, i need help!

AND HOW DARE YOU HOES GO TO MIRABAR WITHOUT ME!!!

I CURSE YOU ALL AND SUMMON THOUSAND YEARS OF IMPOTENCE ON YOUR REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS!

I got poisoned today. I had twix and it poisoned me. All the heat of my body was sucked away in two seconds while my big german gay jewelry teacher was showing me how to cut brass, the weird smell of metal and beeswax got to me as well as the low murmur of constant korean valleygirl chatting. Yes my class has 12 girls out of 13 people and 5 are korean, and they apparently still think they're in korea. So i do feel like i'm in an abroad program in east asia, although i'm just down the hill.

Back to poison. I ran home carrying this hugeassheavy toolbox and crashed on my bed. I was sleeping when my cute russian called and told me he wanted to hug me. Then his voice healed me and then i was ready to go and hammer more copper. I like this russian a lot and he looks like the boy in my dreams, talks like the boy in my dreams and giggles like the boy in my dreams - but i hope he doesn't steal my kidneys when we meet.

This year is very chaotic but after a summer of utter emptiness it's very refreshing. Spinning yarn from icelandic sheep in a fake viking village to dancing to van dyk with posh pakistanis in boston..

The only thing i lack is you guys, i want to see more of you bitches and whores!! I really miss our sexually-active-but-not parties! I'm like 2 steps away from coffee exchange - so get some candy while you are getting some caffein!! And then warm my apartment with your juicy genitals! Please.

Luv luv luv

Over the summer I probably might turn this into a drawing livejournal. Everyweek I could post one of my fucked-up weird-ass illustrations for you people to reflect on.

I want to be home again, sometimes it's too much here. A little bit too much.

Is stalking a sin?

Fealoth84: I've been saving my cum in a jar for you

Killer Rabbit10: really?

Fealoth84: oh yes oh yes oh yes

Killer Rabbit10: that's funny cuz i froze mine into popsicles sticks for you

Killer Rabbit10: they're shaped like rabbits

Killer Rabbit10: you can bite off their ears and pretend they're mine

I woke up late with a morning hard on.

And then xiyun woke me up again, so I don't know the first morning hard on was real or a dream.

And then we tried sending yellow pens and love glasses to Bulgaria but the post office was closed, so we hated the government.

And then we bought pizza and I ate them.

Then we sat outside our dorm and the boy without shoes taught Xiyun how to play the banjo.

I watched the chink with the banjo.

And then Masha the Russian saw us from her smoking vantage point and came to us.

I called her 'suka' and she gave me evil looks.

And then we talked about zionism, arabic and colla.

The muse concert was cuntslapping, beautiful - you can not imagine how big they are in Europe and they just came to me, five minutes away from my dorm, for only six dollars, I was pissing distance close to the singer Matt, amazing talented, such a twitchy talented elf --- The experiences I've had over the past two weeks, starting with the NY trip with my designer fetish incidents and then the starfuck night with the 'violated boy' with the latter mess and now Muse singing into me, although I feel lost and fuzzy I know I AM living and I am glad all this crap happened.

I don't feel left out anymore -

I just wish,

oh whatever, fuck him, he WILL choke on his bangs one day.

After the Risd application, everything feels soft, fuzzy and nice. I feel lighter and and prone to ecstatic levitation. The fact that I might have a set goal and a definite place to go even only for one year is relaxing. It's like diarrhea after two weeks of constipation, without the trouble of a swampy ass.

There's a really pretty freshman boy who passes in front of my window all the time, he's a little cherub with flushed cheeks and pretty chestnut hair. Saw him once at art house cleaning tape art with Julian the God of shaggy charm. I have to stop thinking about things I can't get (men) and focus on things I can get (food).

New York was amazing. The people, the scene, the dirt, the chaos, the noise. I met an amount of beautiful men with beautiful lives which was frustratingly exciting. But the climax was me trying on a male skirt designed by Yohji Yamamoto because I had told the hot person in black that I was turkish royalty and that I needed something outrageous to wear at a high end design party in Istanbul, hence the layer of beautious black fabric of the long skirt was resting on my body. I was illegally taking pictures of myself in the mirror of the large dressing room, fake-coughing to cover the beep of the camera, so my face is bloated and jiggling in the pictures contrasting the natural glamour of the clothing/art.

An hour ago, my two lovely cuntslapping whores in the plantations house gave me pictures of swedish youth with knit skeleton on his shoulder - which I humbly accepted. And in celebration we blew snot balloons that 're-entered' and had tattooed octopus feet showdown.

Be moist and used.

Date:	2004-03-30 01:26
Subject:	A SONG FOR JOANNE
Security:	Public
Mood:	drunk
Music:	Amon Tobin

A Song for Joanne Park who called me from Belgium while I was watching a Korean movie with a lot of sex in it

Oh my wonderful bitch how did you know,
that Lucia cried blood through my pens,
As my ass cries red wine,
When I belly dance,
Dum dum dum dum,
Very handsome boys in netherlands,
All bohemian with dreadlocks like medusa's ass,
I like it very much,
Open your sex and let them touch,
Dum dum dum dum
Ohh Joanne joanne,
You smoked weed with exotic man,
Who the old couple keeps as a pet,
And feed him korean ho's they can get,
Dum dum dum dum
Seduce your brother in Paris,
And dominate that chinese bitch of his,
Also fuck a hot french boy in leather,
Before he sticks on his poop a feather!
Dum dum dum dum

I want to befriend Bjork! And chill out in her apartment/house/pagan-space-craft in Iceland!

I don't know if I want to befriend her or want to be her.

I know I don't wanna be her son.

That shit would fuck me up.

Date:	2004-03-27 17:17
Subject:	Camp-us, camp-me
Security:	Public
Mood:	artistic
Music:	Cesaria Evora - Sodade

Campus is silent, campus has grey clouds suspended over it, the green of the greens are greener than ever and I am drinking my wine alone, suckling my prosciutto alone. Still thinking of 'The Dreamers'; Bertolucci knows how to make your saliva drip as your hands get sweaty and how to put meaning into random images and scenes with such rich sexual texture. It was the right movie for the "girls' night out" with Bathsheba. Tonight I will read a little bit of Mishima - discovering with every line that we're the same person - although I will not commit suicide at the age of forty-five in the japanese ceremonial seppuku. I might be turkish oil-wrestling myself to death (traditionally)but not seppuku.

What are the chances that a cute assless newyorker boy of taste and sophistication might knock on my door and:

- Hi, is this Cesaria Evora that you're listening to?
- Yes it is, do you like her music?
- Very much so, I've been interested in her music since I started learning portuguese and my mother always says Cesaria invokes memories from her homeland.
- Interesting, you don't look portuguese at all?!
- It is because I have my father's look, he's swedish. I wish I had my mother's looks though, I have a liking for darker features.
- Would you like some grapes and some wine?
- Would you like my balls and some semen?


As my mother once wrote in her livejournal, you find sympathy in the dictionary right between shit and syphilis.

I'm very lonely in my bed.
Anyone wanna join me?

I suck - le pickles.
Suckle pickles.

Can suckles pickles.

My grandmother suckles pickles.

Yet again, another archeology exam and yet another day spent doing minor work. The rest is to be done in the very near future, a future where no sleep dwells and where the ass bleeds.

Even dogs learn how to shit properly after they get a few slaps in the ass. My ass is obergine purple from the constant slaps but I will never learn.

I had lost my martenitza. And then the bulgarian gave me another one. And then I found the old one. And now I have two martenitzas.

Xiyun has not knit things. She lies. Also, she's orally fixated.
I have knit things. thing. pretty.

I actually was knitting all evening, rocking to hungarian music in my substance free rocking chair - the phone stuck between my shoulder and my ear, Bathsheba's voice floating somewhere in there.
Stitching, bitching and gossiping.
I like columns. Oh which reminds me. Archeology is. It is!

char rahc
[ ]
=
"\n/"
,
redivider
[ ]
=
"Able was I ere I saw elbA"
,
*
deliver,reviled
=
1+1
,
niam ; main
( )
{/*\}
\*/
int tni
=
0x0
,
rahctup,putchar
( )
,LACEDx0 = 0xDECAL,
rof ; for
(;(int) (tni);)
(int) (tni)
= reviled ; deliver =
redivider
;
for ((int)(tni)++,++reviled;reviled* *deliver;deliver++,++(int)(tni)) rof
=
(int) -1- (tni)
;reviled--;--deliver;
(tni) = (int)
- 0xDECAL + LACEDx0 -
rof ; for
(reviled--,(int)--(tni);(int) (tni);(int)--(tni),--deliver)
rahctup = putchar
(reviled* *deliver)
;
rahctup * putchar
((char) * (rahc))
;
/*\
{\*/}

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

emine says:

yatagımda uzanıyodum 1den nasil olduysa kaydım ve yere dustum cok zevklı gelmisti sende dene. 1 daha yapayım dedim bole yataga atlıyom donuyodum sonra takla atıp kayıp yere atıyodum bunları yaparkende kendi kendime kopuyodum resmen guluyodum o sirada kapı acılmıs rich ve arkları kendimi kaptırmısım farketmedim dvm ettim sonra farkettim hepsi bana acıyarak baktılar...

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

HA

Date:	2003-12-30 17:58
Subject:	Boring stuff about boring mother
Security:	Public
Mood:	angry
Music:	Buddha Bar II

Being back in Turkey is nice. I missed a lot of my friends and I keep seeing them, and I visit places that I like in the city, mostly restaurants. Ah food. But mostly I've been at home trying to drag my ass to the gym and stressing about my risd applications. And there's mom. I dunno if that's good or bad. Don't read further, it's boring stuff I wrote mostly for myself, about mom.

I wish I could be proud of my mother. I wish she was someone strong and educated that she would have brought me up with the right values. Every value that I lack in my life, in my work-ethic, in my relationships with friends, I see my mother. Well of course, I spent the past 18 years with her everyday, at home, looking up to her.. Dad was so sick of her vanity and stupidity that he discarded me too. Because I was a little version of mom. The same unsophisticated lazy thing that liked to 'buy' stuff. Subconsciously, slowly, I broke from the chains that mom had weaved around me, I had Brown in mind, I had a different life in mind, different values, because I read, learnt, I watched and I talked. She had never done these things.

Last year, the summer before I came to Brown, the parents got separated. That was good. For me and dad. The loud fights, stupid arguments and the loud make up sex were all over. Yeah- eww. Dad began his own life, started traveling for work, made nice friends, started experiencing the city to its core with people who valued him for his ideas, his brain. And he and I got to know each other better too, for the first time he saw me as a human being and a young person with ideals and taste - IT was good. But not for mom, because she's a traditional euro-trash turkish girl with 46 years of life behind and a small brain. Oh she has a huge heart, and is a great cook, drives me around, does stuff. I love her for the things she sacrifices for me. But sometimes people need to think, give/take advice, talk about something that's not hairstyle or her new car (that her grandfather bought her) or bla bla. She keeps on blaming dad, me and various other people for the empty and aimless life she's living now. So fake and material.

And we get into fights of course. Just like the one that happened 10 minutes ago. I mean usually they have ridiculous reasons, but I've lost all respect for her, the respect that I once had when I believed she was a more experienced person with wisdom, who could help me and herself and had a life. Well that is not the truth now, as I can see. And this leads to.... meeerrrp... Even I'm bored and I hope no one bothered reading this far.

I gotto go meet half japanese half turkish chick for dinner.