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Your hearing’s gone and you won’t even get to hear me say I love you for the last time. You may not even know I’m here, but I wouldn’t miss seeing you for the world, because I love you.

Don’t you want to walk? This is our last chance. I want to make up for so much time I missed while I was in college or at work. Time I’ll never get back. Why won’t you get up? I love you.

Look at how you stare blankly ahead and smile as you pant. You almost look happy, unaware that death is standing over you, bending down to take you, and we’ll never see each other again. We’ve always been there for each other, but now I can’t help you, even though I love you.

I remember how young and healthy you were, much faster than I could ever hope to be. Dandruff and fleas lurk where your beautiful fur coat once was. Even though your bones stick out from what’s left of your body, you’re still beautiful and I love you.

You’ll feel much better soon. Your quick, shallow breaths will slow to a halt, and you’ll take on new life as part of the whole. You’ll be anywhere and everywhere, undivided from existence, which is pure joy. Even though I’ll miss you, I’m glad that you will no longer have to suffer. Even though I selfishly want you forever, I’ll let you go because I want what’s best for you, because I love you.

Date: Februrary 2007
Substance: Ketamine
Dose: 100mg intravenous x2
Subject: 125 lb male

Disclaimer: This was done legally in a hospital setting.

About a month ago while I was out at a guitar shop with one of my friends, I had a partial lung collapse and required hospitalization. After examining a chest x-ray to determine the cause, the doctors decided that a chest tube needed to be put in, and that conscious sedation was the safest method. They told me that I would be put out with ketamine through my IV, and asked if I had ever heard of it before. In addition, anti-anxiety and anti-nausea substances were administered to reduce negative side effects. Prior to administration of the ketamine, I was told that I wouldn’t remember a thing afterwards. but I thought to myself, “I hope I do.”

After the injection I didn’t really feel anything, so I asked whether or not they had given me the ketamine yet. They assured me that they had and that it should kick in any second. As hard as I tried to focus on my state of awareness so I could determine exactly when it hit, I couldn’t do so. I blacked out for a moment and when I regained consciousness I was tripping. Continue Reading…

I remember every detail. The first day at the coffee shop. The first night in the snow. The snow angel I made which looked like a hooded KKK member — the one we so affectionately called the KKK Angel. I was 15. You were 13.

I remember how hard it was to get to you. You were only at your dad’s house every 2 weeks for a weekend. My parents installed an alarm system. . .not to keep others out, but to keep me in. I remember spending an hour ripping apart an old harddrive for its magnet, so I could trick the alarm system into thinking the window was still shut. Crawling out the window. Freezing as we walked through subzero temperatures. Snow, wind, no coats or hoodies. Miles through blizzards. Sometimes just to hug at the halfway point for 15 minutes, and then part for 2 more weeks.

I still remember your scent. Gucci Rush. Every time I smell it, you come flooding back. It makes me crazy. I’m still addicted to you. You made sure I always would be. You would spray my pillows with your scent. Go running and “forget” your shirt at my house. And even after we decided the two week breaks were too painful, that our love wasn’t worth the hurt, you would make sure I couldn’t forget you. You still write suggestive things to me from time to time. You put Rush on the letters so I smell you. You don’t want me to forget.

Lovers later, fiances later, and I still miss you. And you miss me too. You drown yourself in alcohol. I suffocated myself in opiates for 2 years. But heroin isn’t as good as the real thing. And neither is alcohol. You still miss me when you’re drunk, I still miss you when I’m high.

Are we going to die this way? Me longing for Gucci Rush because it is better than a heroin rush, and you hung over with tears?

Why did we always have to be Romeo and Juliet? Why would you only see me at night? Was I just your means of transcending the mundane?

I still think about you.
Miss you.
Want you.
Love you.
Need you.

I still remember.

I kind of miss my AP Lit class from way back in highschool, so I did a literary critique of this song to bring back memories.

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In his hit masterpiece “Re: Your Brains,” Jonathan Coulton makes a humorous, albeit vehement, attack on the corporate lifestyle. While juxtaposing office workers with zombies, he uses a tightly-woven series of literary and musical elements to further his critique.

E-mail is the dominant form of interoffice communication. Although phone calls are also commonly used, e-mails allow for non real-time communication to occur between multiple parties. The song’s title, “Re: Your Brains,” is a reference to e-mail subject lines. Taken literally, this would refer to the mythological idea of zombies needing to consume human brains for sustenance. In the corporate world, however, it refers to the idea of being paid for your time as opposed to what you produce. Your boss is literally renting your mind from you. Continue Reading…

Although I’m not usually a fan of pop music, I do enjoy listing to a few of Lady Gaga’s songs. Her sense of aesthetic and her dedication to art is impressive and really shines through in her music. When listening to songs like Paparazzi, it almost feels like there’s some kind of energy to it, like it touches on something deep.

Ever since the first time I listened to Lady Gaga’s song “Poker Face,” I noticed that the refrain seems to sound something like this:

P-P-P-Poker Face F-F-Fuck her face

However, every time I mentioned it to a friend, I’d get a response like “whatever man, you’re just hearing what you want to hear. It doesn’t sound anything like that!” or some other form of denial that Lady Gaga would ever include lyrics like that. Unsatisfied with these responses, I did some Googling. It appears that I’m not the only one who has heard this.

Upon some further research, I actually found some videos that convince me that it is not just selective hearing. In this video:

Lady Gaga admits that she does indeed say “fuck her face” in the song lyrics. In case the video is ever taken down in the future, here is a transcript:

“It got played all over the world amidst thousands. . .tens of thousands of radio stations. But Kiss FM is the only one that said I had to censor my lyric because they thought I might be saying something bad. Out of all the radio stations in the world that play this record over and over. . .Kiss FM is the only one that was right and caught on!”

This is from Wango Tango in Irvine, California, if you ever have to go looking for it. Now, I admit this can sound like she is mocking Kiss FM or being sarcastic. However, in another interview, which was already taken down, she states that she is completely serious and not joking.

Further evidence can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exwZXQoHkwg&feature=related

This is a concert from Tokyo, Japan where Lady Gaga sings an acoustic version of Poker Face. If you skip to the last 15-20 seconds of the video, she very clearly enunciates “fuck her face” at the end. It sounds something like “Po-Fuck her face.”

After watching the above videos, what do you think?