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30 March 2011 @ 09:25 pm
I'm drunk. Know that before I start.

I've lost it all.

Fuck it.
16 March 2011 @ 02:37 pm
The loss of time is equal, in regards to pain, to the loss of memories.
Current Location: DSM
Current Mood: morosemorose
Current Music: A Smart Kid - the tree
28 February 2011 @ 08:53 am
To see the world as it really is
all we really need do is
speak truths to ourselves.
Current Location: singe's lair
Current Mood: sleepysleepy
Current Music: black keys - tighten up
16 February 2011 @ 07:29 pm
I pose the question;

Is to die really to stop living?

While the answer is, invariably "YES!" I am left to wonder if there are other ways to stop living.

For me, to give up on music is to stop living.

But, on this, I think we can all agree:
To stop living is NOT to die.

Think on that.
Current Location: beddddddddddddd
Current Mood: coldcold
Current Music: Metric - Black Sheep
23 November 2010 @ 09:29 am
New Hooverphonic moves me in ways I can't even suggest other people try to understand. It just does.

New singer, Noémie Wolfs, is no Arnaert, but is a dream all the same.

Somedays the fact that this band is such a part of my life is all I need to get through to tomorrow.
Current Location: interwebs
Current Mood: jubilantjubilant
Current Music: Hooverphonic - The Night Before
08 November 2010 @ 07:55 pm
Here's the scoop;

Few places exist in this world where one can simply hide from the rest of everything. As such, very little can be left to secret, anymore. Everything is free and everything is available. Information isn't worth anything, anymore. No longer can it be used as a weapon, unless one is ignorant of the fact that its powerless. What was once the key to the world has fallen to the wayside. When everyone shares everything, nothing is sacred. Nothing is pure and nothing is without lies trailing behind.

When we create a persona that is public, we deceive. All we really do in this world is deceive, anymore. If any one thing has remained in this "information age" (so called) it is the fear of being seen, which is - of course - on par with the fear of being invisible. If one has to present themselves to the world in any fashion, one must still hide it behind a wall of untruths, simply as a survival tactic. Because being in front of that wall leaves one vulnerable to bullets of harsh truths.

Roger Waters knew his shit, is what I'm saying.

For years I've sought places to store my "more true" self so that the world wouldn't have to put up with the suffering that is my day-to-day. But, of course, people find and read these outlets, the roads to take often being either apparent or broadcast. Despite the fact that I - and everyone else in the world - want to have private spaces to bury these inner workings, the ultimate failing is that we also want people to know them. But knowing them means we are weak, without a reason for the walls we've built up. So these truths - even my own - are false truths.

As such, there can be no home for me, as I am, just like there is no home for anyone as they are. We live in an age where we are, at our most pure and true, homeless. Starved for attention and homeless.

The depressing thing about all of this is that we're all aware of it. No one out there is free from it, and not one person alive can shed themselves of this dilemma. We are slaves to our own machinations. Of this there can be no denial.


One summer day at the height of the thermometer, alone - as we always were - she'd said to me:
"Sorrow, as I see it, is being alone, even with you're with that One Person."
She would sigh, then, letting "it" out in more ways than one. She continued:
"And shame, you know, is never being able to admit it."


If I don't escape the shackles of my own self-designed prison, I'll die in here.

I may have already died.

Years ago this prison was erected to keep myself from dying in the harsh wilds of the world. Said wilds bruised me, broke me, and left me for dead. It was only within these cold walls that I could strengthen and find resolution, but not from the things that I needed resolved. More like things I didn't even know where troubling me.

Every time I look through the bars, I see a world whose dried river beds seem more like home than the comfortable confines of the hell I've created for myself. Would I perish? Without a doubt.

Regardless of my desires, however, I am coming to an understanding:

I will never flee. I can't. To flee is to die. To stay is to linger on until death. Fear binds me. It is the only truth.

Truth is... nothing.

My name is Skyler Bartels. I'm 25 years old. I enjoy reading, film study and digestion, music consumption and sandwiches of all kinds.

I participate in fantastic casual sex which fulfills all of my ego's needs.

I do no drugs but partake in strong whiskey drinking from time to time.

I love my job, I love my coworkers, I love my friends.

My family is a wreck and a pit of despair.

I hate so much about a world I want to love.

One of my best friends is my soul mate, of this I am sure.

And I would destroy those that plague my past without a second's pause.

All in all, I am pleased with myself and my life, if not at least a little bothered by the fact that I have no jetpack and it is now going on 2011. There are few things that I haven't done and even less things that I wouldn't do if given the chance. My life is my own and my decisions - that is to say, if one was to believe in choice - are too. Would that I could go back in time five years I would only do a handful of things differently (primarily running over certain individuals with steamrollers on sight, rather than trying to get to know them through their own thickly constructed walls) and many of those changes would not result in drastic alterations to what has become of me, now.

This is a message I leave behind for myself, so that I can relive these feelings as I am having them, now.

Also, so I can shake my head at what I must have - at one time - thought was pure genius in writing.

So to you, future-Skyler... I say this:
Give up. You won't win. You won't vanquish your demons. You won't conquer any fears.

Give up, and give in. And get living, you stupid clod. And cheer the hell up. There's likely Jack in the drawer and sugar cookies across the street. Nothing can be as bad as all that. Eat, drink, fuck, and be merry. It's the Christian way, you fool. Jesus would be ashamed of you.
-Skyler Bartels


Current Location: THE HOT BOX
Current Mood: frustratedfrustrated
Current Music: With the Beatles
17 August 2010 @ 09:31 am
For the love of a woman


For the companionship of another human being.
Current Location: THE HOT BOX
Current Mood: apatheticapathetic
Current Music: Stylo - Gorillaz
06 June 2010 @ 12:14 am
I've made mistakes in the past. One time I proposed to this Russian woman which resulted in crushing me emotionally and keeping me from ever really developing a solid level of trust with any human being since. Since then I haven't really been capable of developing strong feelings for another woman. I've had deep, depressing weeks and days since then. I've considered running away from everything I know and love, simply to escape being around people that know what I've gone through since then, the shame being so great. Asking that Russian to marry me was an awful decision.

Advocating seeing Splice was a worse one.

I feel such a new level of betrayal from this movie (and Roger Ebert...!). Never before have I been so pleasantly surprised by a movie like this - a modern day sci-fi horror movie, which haven't been good since the days of Cronenberg's The Fly or Carpenters The Thing - to have it turn around, slap me in the face, spit in my eye, and shit up my nose, then proceed to rape me until I cough up blood and death.

This movie has everything going for it; good acting, great effects, and a haunting score draped over a timeless Frankenstein-type story.

Then Adrien Brody fucks the creature.

I mean what I say there literally, and will say it again.

Adrien Brody fucks the creature.

This turns into a comedy of errors which then results in the the creature growing a penis and raping the main female character.


The female creature, having been fucked by Adrien Brody, grows a wang and thrusts it into the other lead.

This movie is pure bile.

Just... pure bile.

Should have married that Russian. She would have never wanted to see this movie. Would have saved me $7.
Current Location: Condo
Current Mood: disappointeddisappointed
Current Music: "Welcome to the world of the Plastic Beach!"
27 April 2010 @ 11:24 am
Some day I will look back on all of this and laugh.

I mean, again. I'll laugh at it again. I laughed today, already.
Current Location: BED
Current Mood: amusedamused
Current Music: Groove Armada - Black Light
03 March 2010 @ 11:49 am
LOST is back.

And there was much rejoicing.
Current Mood: calmcalm
Current Music: Broken Bells - Trap Doors