When I hate it
I know I can feel
but when you love
you know it's not real

Ok, you know you've spent a little too much time in front of the crt when you flop your head down on the pillow in the hopes of getting some fscking rest, but the lucid projection screen beneath the eyelids keeps flashing up these Tyler Durden-esqe frames, some distinguishable, some not. Or sometimes, the vaguely defined human male face, eyes blackened and blood seeping out the cracks, teeth falling out.

I know it's the last day on earth
we'll be together while the planet dies
i know it's the last day on earth
we'll never say goodbye

I wasn't going to type a rambling tonight. I was just going to go to bed like a good little boy. I was going to sleep, let my brain do its background processing, and wake up in the morning bright and cheery. But I can't. Seriously though, sometimes I just wish someone would hit me over the head with a brick to rescue my mind from its own flailing mechanations.

There's something cold and blank
Behind her smile
She's standing on an overpass
In a miracle mile
Cause you were from a perfect world
A world that threw me away today
Today
Today
To run away

A pill to make you numb
A pill to make you dumb
A pill to make you anybode else
But all the drugs in this world
Won't save her from herself

By any DVD nut's standards, Fight Club is simply an amazing production. A whole second disc for all the extra shit, loaded with ... everything. It's the kind of stuff we, the spoiled ones, have come to expect, but just a ton more of it, and done really, really well. Like the multi-angle, multi audio track channels for the behind the scenes shots. The zillions of stills. The entire movie's storyboard. The making of the effects. Trailers galore. Paraphernalia out the wazoo. Fucking amazing.

And our world is so white
what else can I say?

And hell was so cold
All the vases are so broken
And the roses tear our hands open
Mother Mary
Miscarry
But we prayed just like insects
And the world is so ugly now

Cause it's a great big white world
And we are drained of our colors
We used to love ourselves
We used to love one another

All my stiches itch
My prescription's low
I wish you were queen
Just for today
And our world is so white
What else could I say
Great big white world
And we are drained of our colors
We used to love ourselves
We used to love one another

I choose to surround myself with some of the most morbid, distrubing, and -- at times -- the most outright sick entertainment available on the mass market. Produced as slickly as possible, of course. But why? Just look at my choices in CD's: Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails, Tool, A Perfect Circle, Rob Zombie, Britney Spears (Doh!), the list goes on.

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
that wanna get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low, and blow your mind

They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not then they love another
When you're not then they love another

I felt like smashing someone. A barely controlled urge to go out and commit acts of meaningless violence and vandalism. The only thing preventing it: the conditioning which had been planted from the time of birth, and the knowledge that none of it would do any good in the log run. Just smash me with the crusher, put the gun to my head and fire, and by morning this will all seem like a dream. Is there anybody listening?

This isn't me I'm not mechanical
I'm just a boy playing the suicide king
Playin the suicide king

I remember that none of this is real. I need to free my mind. All that has been put before me, including this very moment, is an illusion. I have been living in a dream world. But what is the dream world, and what is reality? Is this the dream world? Psychedelic moments experienced late in the night, at which time any normal person would be asleep? Surely, the ordered world of the day, where busines takes place, we all address one another in polite tones, and civilization is consistently maintained must be the real part of life.

Rock is deader than dead
Shock is all in your head
Your sex and your dope
Is all that we're fed
So fuck all your protests
And put 'em to bed

Sometimes, one just feels like leaving this earth and letting the soul become one with the music. Leave all else behind, and turn up the volume.

I can tell you what they say in space
That our earth is too grey
But when the spirit is so digital
The body acts this way
That world was killing me
World was killing me
Disassociative

The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down

The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down

I can never get out of here
I don't want to explode in fear
Dead astronaut in space
I can never get out of here
I don't want to explode in fear
Dead astronaut in space

Sometimes we walk like we were shot
Through our heads my love
Write a song in space like we're
already dead and gone

Your world was killing me
world was killing me
disassociative
Your world was killing me
world was killing me
disassociative

I can never get out of here
I don't want to explode in fear
Dead astronaut in space
I can never get out of here
I don't want to explode in fear
Dead astronaut in space

The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down

Eventually, the brain becomes numb to all of this. Ya start to zone out, and despite all efforts to reclaim the pain, it has been exorcised. Just what the doctor ordered. Just what you wanted.

They slit our throats
Like we were flowers
And the milk
Has been devoured

When you want it
Goes away too fast
Times you hate it
Always seem to last

Just remember
When you think you're free
The crack inside your fucking heart is me

I want to outrace the speed of pain
For another day
I want to outrace the speed of pain
For another day

I wish
I could sleep
But I can't lay on my back
Cause there's a knife
for every day
that I've known you.

When you want it
Goes away too fast
Times you hate it
Always seem to last

Just remember
When you think you're free
The crack inside your fucking heart is me

I want to outrace the speed of pain
For another day
I want to outrace the speed of pain
For another day

Lie to me
Cry to me
Give to me
I would
Lie with me
Die with me
Give to me
I would

Keep our secrets wrapped in dead hair
Always
Keep our secrets wrapped in dead hair
Always

Lie to me
Cry to me
Give to me
I would
Lie with me
Die with me
Give to me
I would

Hope that we die holding hands
Always hope that we die holding hands
Always hope that we die holding hands

I often marvel at how radio stations which play music of this stripe constantly alternate between two seemingly totally disjointed forms of content: Music which expresses some of the deepest profound angst of the human soul, and DJ's proffering carefree fun, jokes, shock talk designed to amuse and amaze the listeners at how they're "bucking the system" by saying ever-edgier stuff on the radio. And then it's back to the meat of the music.

All that glitters is cold

Show me the dead stars
All them sing
This is a riot
Religious and clean
This is a riot
Religious and clean

God, I'm fscking tired. And now that this incomprehensible bit of catharsis is complete, I think I'll shut it off and go to bed.

And I want it
I believe it
By the time I'm old enough
I won't know anything at all
Hey
And our mommies are lost now
Hey
Daddy's someone else
Hey
And we love the abuse
because it makes us feel like we are needed

I wanna disappear

Terminate.

This great piece of modern "art", designed to bring pleasure to the lost Internet generation, has been brought to you by the Paper Street Soap Company.