The Art School Diaries are excerpts from a real diary, which a dear friend of mine has permitted me to post, so long as she remains anonymous. She wanted to burn them… but I find them fascinating, in a profound and pathetic sort of way. They speak to me of the human condition. And they occasionally get nasty. Pulp, smut, pathos and philosophy, it’s all here.Tell me what you think, and I’ll carry the message to her.

Juliette
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So, tonight is a night that I will confront my own sexuality in a public & demonstrative manner. There is a moment, an opportunity, that has been presented to me, and I cannot let it pass me by. And this is how I have always been — this is instinct — learn what the world is trying to teach you, build, grow, develop. Make bold and logical decisions. Don’t rock the boat? Tip is over. Swim in shit. Make messes. Fuck ‘em all. Point being, at the end of the day — take chance, make choices, live an interesting life, fall in love fully and to the best of your ability. Let go.

I’m still learning, letting go.

(March 1st 2001)

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a feeling (after) always of lameness, non-trancendence, the futility of trying to be any other than what one is — and the beauty of failing, being, both, los dos: so pretty, so ugly, so smart, so dumb, so simple, so complex, and he laid with me all day — so I couldn’t have been that bad. i got drunk, i fell down, woke up covered in bruises, i know i kissed another boy, i got angry, i told him to leave, i wanted him to stay. at least i woke up here, with him.

(March 2nd 2001)

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Since we have agreed on the obsessive nature of this thing that I am I thought it best to know just what the hell that means, as in, for example, the root of the word — from the Latin (obsessus) to frequent, besiege, from OB- (against) plus sedere (to sit) [to NOT sit, NOT wait, NOT rest] to excessively preoccupy the mind of [a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling] compelling motivation.

It comes after observer, before obsolete. In other words, I shall ride the wave, till it breaks, calms, resolves.

(March 3rd 2001)

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DEAD MEN IN RUNNING CARS

TELEPATHIC SHOWER COMMUNICATION

PASSION MODERATION

SLOW TO OBSESS (TOO LATE)

SO MANY PREGNANT/DEAD FRIENDS

WHEN TO STOP TALKING

WHEN TO LISTEN

WHEN THE FACE HURTS

FROM TOO MUCH STROKING

TOO DRUNK TO FUCK

TOO DRUNK NOT TO

(ARE YOU ALWAYS LIKE THAT) NO.

PHONE SEX, FLOOR SHOW

TOO MUCH (SAY WHEN)

(March 6th 2001)

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and the fact of the matter is, I have been drinking a lot, and smoking too much, and you are currently witnessing an intensely excessive and obsessive period of my life.  a friend reminded me to “maintain”… Keep it together enough to know who is who and to be sure the decisions I make are my decisions — not drunken defaults. I wonder –

(date unknown)
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Let’s try to get to the bottom of this (yea, right) There is something missing - there’s an awkwardness - still holding back — and the fact of the matter is — I’d be happy to hold back if I believed there was a good reason to hold back. If this is all there is, though, then let it burn. Or rage in other directions — but not this waiting. And why be careful if there is nothing precious to break? Why not? THIS GIRL HAS NO PATIENCE.

(date unknown)

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Some things are better left in the dark. Such as, the past few nights. Good lord. Went to a party a few days ago. Got drunk. Danced with some guy. Gave him a blow job on the back porch and he came on my neck. I guess I gave him my number because he called the next day. Couldn’t remember for the life of me what he looked like. A very fuzzy evening. I do remember having a slight feeling that he wasn’t all that cute. But he was a skater. I remember that. Curiosity got the best of me and I agreed to meet him again last night. Tags on my car were expired, and I got pulled over on the way to his place. Glendale cops are the worst. When he opened the door I found out I was right. He wasn’t all that cute. Had a few beers and I was stuck. Couldn’t drive after drinking with my expired tags; would be sure to get pulled over again. Tried to get a friend to pick me up. No luck. Ended up spending the night. Easier to let him fuck me than discuss it. He was a talker. “You like that big dick” (It wasn’t that big) The final insult… morning misfire and he came in my eye. Fucking burned like hell.

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More to come… no pun intended.