:: heartattackmachine ::

I think there's something wrong. something wrong, baby, with the end to your song.

:: welcome to heartattackmachine :: bloghome | contact | old school ::

[::..archive..::]

[::..namecheck..::]
:: nick a. [>]
:: karaab a. [>]
:: elliott b.[>]
:: anna d. [>]
:: thom e. [>]
:: john g. [>]
:: mike g.[>]
:: jack [>]
:: scott j. [>]
:: james m. [>]
:: bob m. [>]
:: melissa m.[>]
:: kim n. [>]
:: ryan p. [>]
:: robin [>]
:: dave s. [>]
:: dave s.g. [>]
:: scuba [>]
:: vicky t. [>]
:: david w. [>]
:: keith z. [>]

[::..what I'm reading (maybe)..::]
:: the bloomsday book [harry blamires]
:: ulysses [james joyce]
:: the dead zone [stephen king]


[::..other random trivia..::]
:: scrap [>]
:: underground [>]
:: weekly dig [>]

:: Wednesday, August 28, 2002 ::

my mother knows about my tattoo now. when she asked me what it was and I said temporary. a lie. that she saw through and I immediately began attacking the point of further discussion. reminded of a poem I had been inspired to write much earlier this summer. hard to describe schematics. I don't know if I want to transcribe it here. a phone call in the not quite middle of the night.* a person who is my mother. and yet I'm not me and so what if she is she?
how many people would be in our lives now if not for extenuating circumstances

*because who sleeps in the middle anymore?

:: judy nguyen 11:58 AM [+] ::
...

was planning to be back in town today but apparently that turned out not to be the case:
you risk tears if you let yourself be tamed (st. exupery, little prince)

:: judy nguyen 11:35 AM [+] ::
...

:: Wednesday, August 14, 2002 ::

today is john's thirtyfirst birthday.
okay. all right. fine.

:: judy nguyen 10:59 AM [+] ::
...

:: Monday, August 12, 2002 ::

something about throwing up for well over a half hour saturday night and being very aware of own mortality should have been here.
but something fucked up.

:: judy nguyen 3:44 PM [+] ::
...

:: Sunday, August 04, 2002 ::

this week's boston globe magazine:
in an article about women venting about their miscarriages through the internet, the writer describes a certain rare neural disorder as incompatible with life. I'm not sure about my thoughts on this phrase. even if I was sure about her* writing.

* a survivor herself

:: judy nguyen 8:07 PM [+] ::
...

:: Thursday, August 01, 2002 ::

you just gotta hear me out, man. it was seriously as if she considered her entire fucking life a sob story. but don't think I wasn't crazy about her. she had these incredible fucking eyes. when I looked into them my soul was burning out.

:: judy nguyen 2:39 PM [+] ::
...

I once told john that he was one of the two people that I know that have ever managed to consistently make me feel real. he told me he wondered if those people weren't a little doomed in the long run.
we have some fantastic moments together. much like late tuesday afternoon. but I wonder if there isn't a pervading, underlying sense all the same.

:: judy nguyen 10:58 AM [+] ::
...