11:24 AM: I woke up ~8 minutes ago and turned on my phone which I hadn’t been aware was off and received two text messages. My throat is sore and my nose is running. I put on pajama pants and a t shirt and ambled to the bathroom, which was occupied.
I forgot to start liveblogging at 12:00 AM, here is my internet history from 12:00 AM to now:
11:34 AM: I still haven’t brushed my teeth.
11:36 AM: Don’t feel any more physically uncategorizable, ill, or dysfunctional than usual, but still vaguely anxious that I will have “nothing to liveblog about” but aware that presenting “nothing” (reading, doing things on the internet) in an interesting way is somewhat valuable. It also has value in another way that I may blog about later if I have the energy, patience, and will to do so. I had a dream last night in which people who dislike me on the internet had said something nice about me behind my back and a person I dislike was my friend.
11:41 AM: This is the face of detritus
I think I forgot to take my eyeliner off last night. Developing a “strategy” for liveblog: Post selfies, pictures of things, screenshots, and internet history. Don’t post thoughts/feelings without relative “external” context.
11:53 AM: Looking at things on the internet, reading other liveblogs to understand other peoples’ processes. Tabs open;
11:58 AM: Reading jyames’ liveblog, feel empathetic and (currently thesaurus.com searching “endear” for similar words that may fit better in context and with connotation) charmed by his self-consciousness about his internet history. Listening to Shugo Tokumaru, something he liveblogged about after Blare Coughlin posted a video of his on Facebook.
12:02 PM: Reading a post by Lizzy Yzzil in Facebook group “Alt Lit Gossip (Spread)”, feel like telling Lizzy “I love [her]”.
12:03 PM: Making a “disgusted” face looking at a Facebook event page for a “punk/metal” night at “The Exit”, a bar in Chicago which I mostly associate with bikers, neo-Nazis, 30-50 year old men who think they are “punk” by way of being something I would classify as an “asshole” and anybody else who would wear a leather vest. This seems terrifying.
12:07 PM: Smiling 
12:08 PM: Listened to “Katachi” by Shugo Tokumaru, didn’t feel any way about it, currently listening to “Life Sketch” by Absolut, which exactly meets, without exceeding in terms of quality, the expectations to which I would judge Absolut judging by their Demo.
12:15 PM: 
Copying and pasting this post to multiple groups’ walls on Facebook, on Tumblr, and anywhere else I can think of.
12:25 PM: 
I am reinterpreting this dare to include things that I have attained not through buying but through any means. I have found a record, “Albino” by ONO, and several tapes of music that I haven’t used or listened to, which I will to throughout the day. I have found a stick of deodorant which I have never worn and will wear. I tried looking for more interesting things that I would be willing to use in ways that could potentially damage them or myself but as of yet don’t want to do these things with the record or tapes, and feel this would be unentertaining/useless with the deodorant.
12:37 PM: Listening to “Albino” by ONO. Google searching “Trojan make up”. I still haven’t eaten breakfast, I’m hungry and thinking about things.
12:41 PM: Asked Penny to explain her request, unable to find any examples of Trojan makeup. Received text messages from Maisie, responded “My belly is empty right now I have to eat something” I haven’t eaten anything all day.
12:45 PM: Looking at a TextEdit document I typed after doing poppers and drinking that said “Does radicalism necessitate unhappiness?” have no more of an answer now than I did then. Still listening to “Albino”.
12:51 PM: I am looking at Facebook statuses by people I dislike/feel annoyed by. Feels like this liveblog hinders me to do much on the internet other than usual/casual social networking sites (Facebook, Tumblr) but maybe I just need to get in the “mood”. “Albino” by ONO is pleasantly more contained/present than their 1980s albums while lacking in the raw experimentalism, but features Travis’s voice in the blues, gospel, and R&B settings that he seems to thrive in.
12:57 PM: 
This coerced me to go into my kitchen where I am drinking water with lemon and will make food. Saw something about Luming Hao and a picture, I think, of Libby Rindal in the media folder for this blog, will check the blog to see the source of these pictures, because I feel positive about Luming and Libby.
1:02 PM: I am eating cereal and drinking water with lemon. I am in the same room as my (older) brother who is watching one of the “Madagascar” movies.
1:04 PM: I just heard a commercial play a song to the same tune and style of “Gangnam Style” but with what sounded like different lyrics.
1:06 PM: I can’t believe I thought Megan Schuirmann was Libby Rindal, though I only looked at the thumbnail of the photo for “a fraction of a second” and I have seen more photos of Libby than of Megan, and so my mind probably has some sort of heuristic bias.
1:08 PM: In keeping me focused on “external things” and “what I’m doing” this liveblog is having an affect on my day in that I feel like I am dwelling less in my own mind/focusing less on my own thoughts and feelings, thus not having the same depth/intensity of thoughts and feelings that I would have were I not liveblogging. Maybe, though, I still just need to get into a comfortable method.
1:13 PM: “Madagascar” seems racist.
1:14 PM: Going to take a shower.
1:31 PM: 
I took a shower. In the shower I thought about a show that I helped book that is taking place in my friends’ basement and how I am dreading the show because of the music, which neither I nor any of my friends who are hosting the show had listened to before yesterday, and because of the aesthetic-politic dissonance between the touring musicians and my friends who are hosting the show and how the show is very underpublicized and not likely to attract any audience members. I thought about politics as informed by aesthetics and that it disturbs me. I thought about how I am “making up for” this show by booking a noise/punk show in my friends’ basement and how I am going to attempt to start a Hanatarash/Gerogerigegege/Pengo/Ratatosk-style noise band to play at that show. I thought about how probably nobody agrees with me about anything and it is most likely because I am wrong about most things. However, “wrong” seems like it is unlikely to exist, and more thoughts can spring from that, and I am certain that I am not more “wrong” than other people about some things. However.
1:40 PM: I have never seen “Robocop” but I know many punk people who reblog photos of “Robocop” on Tumblr and this seems counterintuitive to ACAB mentality.
1:42 PM: I want to watch “Jurassic Park” with somebody whom I may kiss.
1:43 PM: This is how I’m supposed to do my makeup 
1:49 PM: I am thinking about how I have been given very few dares and none of them immediate, endangering, or “extreme” in any way, and I’m trying to think about why this is or what this means in a broader context either about trust or fear or something else
1:56 PM: What if you could get identity sicknesses like your identity got sick haha
1:57 PM: I know what to do.
2:00 PM: Lit my bed on fire, still in my bed, liveblogging fire.
2:02 PM: Got out of my bed because it was hot, most of my room is on fire. Listening to Side B of “Albino” by ONO. Side A concluded with a cool rendition of “All Tomorrow’s Parties” by the Velvet Underground.
2:03 PM: Fire settled/extinguished, I have lost several manuscripts for several manuscripts regarding biopower and identity and performance and an essay about aesthetics to the fire. I have lost about $20,000 cash to the fire. “Albino” Side B was good but not as good as Side A. I have the instinctual feeling that somewhere a bank is being robbed.
2:15 PM: Channing Tatum played an anarchist in “Battle in Seattle”.
2:16 PM: I keep exhaling smoke and exhaust.
2:24 PM: Robbed my dad.
2:31 PM: Last night I posted this on Tumblr: “almost every kind of animal makes me sad”. A person sits in the slightly enclosed rear section of a Chicago El train, gurgling in their unobservedness. Each person who enters the train car notices they are they and averts there eyes. Two teenagers who four minutes previous to entering the train had smoked marijuana and were peaking on Dexadrine (a generic form of Adderall) who had previously been talking very quickly about organizing [xxxxxxxx] were now silent, staring at each other and glancing back towards the person seated in the rear, who rode the train for 6 hours, disappearing at night when the car, for the first time, was empty.
2:35 PM: Reading Lizzy and Omaybo’s liveblog. I just watched Lizzy type something into the Google Document and it felt intimate and immediate and, as she put it, “raw”.
2:39 PM: I am in the chat in the Google Document of Lizzy and Omaybo’s liveblog while watching Lizzy liveblog about the chat. I took a screenshot of her typing;
2:42 PM: Got a new dare from Penny Goring;
I know I have a Ouija Board somewhere in my house, will learn how to use it and attempt to contact something, though I know, based on various stories and folk knowledge, that attempting to contact a specific spirit/person through use of Ouija Board rarely works. However due to the dare I will still try, and I will attempt to contact Kathy Acker.
Also, I typed this in the chat of Lizzy and Omaybo’s liveblog: 
2:50 PM: Got dressed. Going to eat a salad, then find a Ouija Board.
3:00 PM: My father just asked me if I want to be a cop (and I said “No”).
3:03 PM: My father told me that he doesn’t like olives but he likes a particular brand of oliver muffalatta, then he showed me the new washing machine and then I lied to him about applying to a grocery store.
3:07 PM: Watching Omaybo type in the Google Document of his and Lizzy’s liveblog.
3:10 PM: My father wants me to apply to work at the buffet in a casino.
3:12 PM: I called the chief of the Chicago Fire Department and got my dad fired.
3:13 PM: Just turned off the TV in this room because it was playing “Kung Fu Panda” to nobody. Still eating salad, still need to find Ouija Board.
3:25 PM: Found a Ouija Board. I took a picture of the Ouija Board with my iPhone and sent the photo to my email address. The photo of the Ouija Board is 666 kilobytes. I feel this both creates a leaning of fear and an air of mysticism that is properly preparing me for using the Ouija Board.
3:27 PM: Posted the above screenshot to Tumblr. Feel disinterested in advertising my participation in this collective 24 hour liveblog on Tumblr or anywhere else other than where I have already made posts. My father has left the house to go to his girlfriend’s for the weekend.
3:33 PM: Just realized the Moon is full tonight. Will perform Ouija divination ritual tonight when the Moon is out.
3:38 PM: Selfie with horrible yellow foam;
3:43 PM: Discussing hippy cults, vegan restaurants and yerba mate with Lizzy, Omaybo, Penny Goring and James Morey in the Lizzy and Omaybo Liveblog chat.
3:48 PM: Screenshot of earlier chat conversation regarding Ouija Board in which Penny Goring uses the phrase “portent heavy” which Lizzy then liveblogged;
Lizzy’s liveblog;
Which lead to me talking about “vegetarian shepherd’s pie” which lead to current conversation;
3:49 PM: Placed the Ouija Board on the incinerated remains of my bed to keep it from being tampered with.
3:51 PM: Story I wrote in November of 2012 about my encounter with the aforementioned cultists;
Cindy was going to talk about her birthday party during which a Black cisgender man and her white friend got into a discussion in which the man misgendered her friend and was being cissexist and in which her friend was being racially ignorant but Jacob was talking about his Zodiac sign and his spirituality. A blonde bearded hippy approached them and told them about his traveling community and their bus. The hippy asked Cindy and Jacob for a good location to park their bus among like-minded individuals. Cindy and Jacob suggested Kensington Market and Jacob gave the bearded hippy and his friend directions. The hippy told them about his network of intentional communities and gave them a newspaper and Yerba Mate tea that the community members had made. The hippy talked about cooperation and dropping out of the system and living off the grid. Jacob talked about the movie Altered States and described the plot-line of it to the hippy. The hippy talked about finding freedom through primitivism (but he didn’t use that word).
Outside, Cindy and Jacob smoked a cigarette. Cindy talked about the colour-coordination of the picture of the cancerous mouth on her green cigarette pack and Jacob said that was the one picture that he couldn’t stand on cigarette packages. He laughed and showed her his pack that had a child with an oxygen mask on and said it looked very couture. Cindy agreed and they both smiled. Jacob told Cindy about the hippy’s sexual energy and explained to her that sexual energy wasn’t necessarily manifested in the sex act, and that when he writes he utilizes the same sexual energy that he feels when having sex. He made a joke about getting the hippy off before he and his friend went to Kensington Market. The hippy and his friend came outside and began to talk to them again about their community and spirituality. They talked about how Jesus’ real name was Joshua and how he was friends with lepers and sex workers. Jacob talked about how when he was a sex worker he felt like he and Jesus/Joshua would have been good friends. Jacob told the hippy about how colonial ideas of justice and imprisonment were completely foreign to the First Nations people that they colonized, and he told the hippy about the similarities between Jesus/Joshua and the justice system of First Nations people. Jacob asked the hippy if his community was spiritually pluralistic and the hippy gave a long ambiguous answer that amounted to ‘no’ and that they had developed their own spirituality and others were seen as vestiges of self-interest. Jacob and the hippy talked about shamans and New Agers, and Jacob asked if the community supported same-gender couples. The hippy said that they believed that the union of man and woman (maybe he said ‘man and wife’) was the cornerstone of their family units and that the spiritual unity of man and woman were necessary to teach children. The hippy and his friend called Cindy “sir,” shook her and Jacob’s hands, and walked off.
Jacob threw out the Yerba Mate tea and said something like ‘they almost had me, but that…’ and Cindy said ‘So they want to cast off the competitive ideals of the system but they still adopt colonialist morality.’ Jacob told Cindy about the First Nations being inclusive of two-spirit people and Cindy nodded and rubbed her eyes. Jacob went to work out and Cindy looked for somewhere to sit and use the campus wi-fi. Cindy farted and stuck her tongue slightly out of her teeth. She sighed and sat down somewhere.
3:54 PM: I feel like most of my time is dedicated to the creation of this liveblog. This is giving my day more of a “reason”. I have felt less depressed today than almost every day I can remember in which I mostly stayed home, alone, on my computer. I feel positive about this.
4:02 PM: Posted screenshots of my liveblog to Tumblr.
4:08 PM: Started listening to Chief Keef’s “Back From the Dead” mixtape, then switched to the latest album by Strangers before the first Chief Keef song ended.
4:10 PM: I want to drink coffee and listen to hardcore. I am talking about “Ghostbusters” in Lizzy and Omaybo’s liveblog chat.
4:12 PM: Received this dare from Willow Healey (with whom I have collaborated on an experimental piece of prose which will be published in THEM);
First thought of what action would fit this criteria would be “fingering myself” but I don’t feel so much “vaguely uncomfortable” as “incredibly uncomfortable” with fingering myself at this moment. Will think of something to do that fits this criteria.
4:15 PM: Asking Quinn Maubach for ideas of actions that would fit Willow’s dare criteria via Facebook.
4:18 PM: Just saw this dare via Tumblr;
4:24 PM: Wondering if a generic brand “Twinkie” could be considered “craploaf”.
4:28 PM: This sort of fits the criteria for Willow’s dare as well, however, I will complete that dare separately, as that seems more fair:
4:30 PM: I texted Maisie and looked at two Snapchats from Rachel Bell.
4:31 PM: I am steamrolling houses and buildings in my neighborhood in an attempt to lower property value.
4:38 PM: I peed in the toilet. I flushed the toilet and it filled with water and a poo came up from the trap. I plunged the toilet, then washed my hands.
4:42 PM: I am drinking coffee and listening to Disparate’s side of their split with Body Betrayal. I’m staggering around my kitchen as if “moshing” by myself.
4:50 PM: Danced, like doing a more active version of “the twist” to a Disparate song, called Kit “Kit ten” via Facebook chat, told Quinn “calling people kitten feels nostalgic” via Facebook.
4:57 PM: Maybe I should read Lyle’s chapbook. Still drinking coffee and listening to hardcore (now I am listening to Gas Rag). (Three deer were each hit by a car, simultaneously, across America, but we know that simultaneity is different from that.)
5:01 PM: Watched a Snapchat video from Liz of her in her bathtub smoking an herbal blend, responded with a picture of me drinking coffee with the caption “That was so cute”.
5:14 PM: Snapchatting back and forth with Liz. Liz is not Lizzy.
If you mistake your aesthetic judgments for politics I’ll punch you.
5:20 PM: I am reblogging things on Tumblr and I made a joke at the expense of Thought Catalogue.
5:29 PM: Seems like I am experiencing a “calm period” especially in the context of liveblogging. I am going to drink something alcoholic, then read Lyle’s chapbook, then see if there are any rolling papers in the house to roll a cigarette.
5:32 PM: Wish my father hadn’t taken my dog with him, would provide good dog blogging material.
5:35 PM: Pouring myself a pre-bottled Long Island iced tea with Pepsi. I wish I could liveblog a day with Maisie.
5:37 PM: Attempted to take a screenshot of a Snapchat from Maisie, failed.
5:39 PM: Things I am going to do for Willow’s dare:
- Read Lyle’s chapbook
- Ride my bike for at least 15 minutes
- Get progressively more drunk while completing these tasks
- Write noise punk songs for the project mentioned at 1:31 PM
5:41 PM: Went downstairs to get Pepsi to mix with Long Island iced tea, was met by 7 unknown, feral-seeming dogs, each one larger than me, each one obliterating my disconnect from non-human animals with what seemed like their infinite power and understanding. Will be able to dog blog as I had hoped.
5:44 PM: Just realized I had an “uploaded.net” file upload page open, with no idea what RAR file I had hoped to download from it. I entered the Captcha and hit “enter” and began the download of a 185 MB RAR file named “Zqglw923VwN-HfiODj1EX0IgZEunnqZ5IDZC3bRc28I”.
5:50 PM: The 7 identical wild dog beasts are surrounding me in a semi-circle, sitting, facing me, with their eyes closed, as I read Lyle’s chapbook shitlist/s.
5:57 PM:
When Maisie and I are together next, we will be in Amherst, Massachusetts on her college campus. It will be early Autumn, and there will be a few things to do, but not much, more than when she visited Chicago, but not as much as if she visits Chicago again, later, at a warmer time, when we’ve recuperated from the police shut-down of most of our DIY venues. Still, there will be parties and the weekly metal showcase and events we can find on our own. Of the three parties planned during the amount of time I’m there (undetermined as of yet) we will go to two; the first of which I will be nervous about, we will go there, we will talk with one another and with Maisie’s friends, and maybe Gaines will be there and maybe Kxra (whom I have never talked to but know of through conversation) will be there and I will be generally uncomfortable with the majority of attendees but the host will be very polite and accommodating and I will get drunk and Maisie will get drunk, and we’ll push ourselves but not each other toward limits in order to entertain ourselves, but the male presence and harassment that we feel we may both face will lead us to skip the next party in favor of sitting on our own, doing something idle, enjoying each other’s company and then enjoying each other’s sleep. Another day we’ll attend something artistic and enjoy it passively. During hours of sunlight we’ll mostly enjoy food, talking in tongues to one another, and we may at one point at least attempt to ingest some sort of drug, but nothing that will make us anxious. Whatever shows we may attend will be actively enjoyed, we will feel confident, we will kiss each other between sets and we will smoke cigarettes between sets. We will likely do a great deal more during the sets, actively but secretly privately rioting against a particular masculinity (this is important and I promise it isn’t contrived). The third party we go to will be more private and more local to her friendships, and after a preface of anxiety/isolation a few of the attendants will be friendly toward me in a way that mutually interests us and we will feel good and we will attempt to leave at a time that feels appropriate without causing us to arrive back at her house too late. We will kiss hundreds of times and continue to explore our own and each other’s sexualities. I will only feel melancholy when I am alone long enough for that to set in, and these will be exceptions to the overall elation of my visit.
6:23 PM: One of the 7 dog-beasts is nudging my knee and another is barking and seems excited in an innocent way but due to its haggardness and size seems terrifying. I am opening my dog’s bag of food to feed them, which they are doing in a very organized manner, each following the other. Still reading the chapbook.
6:36 PM: Making jokes about band names with Jason via Facebook. Distracted from chapbook. I let the dog-beasts out in the back yard, where the grass grows inches tall with each of their paw steps.
6:51 PM: The aforementioned, mysterious uploaded.net RAR file finished downloading; it was an album called “Forward + Rewind: The Future Echo Tapes” which I was linked to via a Tumblr post reblogged by my friend Mehron, whose music taste I trust. I will listen to this while finishing shitlist/s, of which I am on the second to last page.
6:58 PM: Oh I didn’t listen to the music I just said I was going to listen to. I said it and then immediately forgot what I had promised. I don’t feel bad about this. Instead, I went outside without my laptop to finish shitlist/s without distraction. I’m not as drunk as I would like yet. What’s next on my list? I could write songs, or I could drink more, or I could ride my bike.
7:01 PM: I’m watching a video of a Quebec fireworks factory catching fire and exploding. Kit linked me to the video and I feel like it is settling a previous thought/feeling I was having.
7:09 PM: Feel definitely less elated than I felt earlier. Fear this will cause deterioration of quality of this liveblog. Feel like I don’t mind not doing anything I say I’m going to do because of queer failure.
7:10 PM: My favorite thing is misinterpreting/reinterpreting academic theory for my personal favor.
7:17 PM: “something [I] feel vaguely uncomfortable with but still might enjoy if [I] were in the right mood”; biking to the gas station, buying cigarettes.
7:19 PM: Beginning to feel the feeling I associate with depression. Going to the gas station. Readers are encouraged to message me via any medium because I felt elated when I was chatting with Lizzy, Omaybo, Penny and James. Will return to their liveblog to see if there are updates or people in the chat.
I biked to the gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes. I then began to take an unnecessarily long way home and enjoyed the air and the temperature and the solitude so I biked around my neighborhood for what must have been 15 minutes before returning. The Dogs ran alongside my bicycle, crushing asphalt beneath their elephantine paws, casting their saliva and their rage at passers by. A tree fell behind us at one point. I am going to smoke one of these cigarettes.
7:47 PM: For the sake of context, honesty, and my own scrutiny, it should be noted that before feeling like I had betrayed some sort of goal with this liveblog, I read Lyle’s chapbook (which I have mentioned in this liveblog extensively), which I enjoyed a great deal in content, context, voice, etc, and may feel jealous of her writing, along with other writing by [other people that I feel okay categorizing myself and Lyle with for whatever reason based on something about our age, our lack of fame, our writing, and my ability to socialize with the others via the internet, this mostly refers to Anne Boyer though I have yet to send her an email because I don’t know what people are supposed to email other people].
7:55 PM: Discussing with Kit what they should sing at a karaoke bar;
One effect of this liveblog is that minutes seem impossibly short.
7:58 PM: A dare from Hel;
8:24 PM:
8:29 PM: I peed crude oil. My mom texted me believing I had forgotten our plans for the day and I responded that I hadn’t forgotten but I believed our communication in making plans were not effective/efficient.
8:40 PM: I received a Snapchat video from Julia M, which made me grin because of something to do with black holes. The mouths of the Dogs are black holes. I could talk about methods and theories (not so much theories but intents, which is probably inevitably irrelevant) about self-destruction, like how I feel powerful not in destroying myself for egoistic reasons (want to die) but for some other reason (wanting to destroy the thing that knows it is not able to do what it wishes it could be seen doing).
8:54 PM: Very hungry. On tumblr.
8:56 PM: Listening to “Diamonds” by Rihanna. Eating spicy hummus with flour tortillas.
8:58 PM: Kit is making videos of themself singing requested songs, I requested “Diamonds” by Rihanna.
9:00 PM: Where the hell did the Dogs go
9:07 PM: Hard boiling two eggs to make egg salad. Seeing this process/thought in words makes it seem horrible.
9:12 PM: Place the eggs in a pot of cool-to-room-temperature water and place on high heat. When the water comes to a boil, remove the pot for thirty seconds while setting the heat to simmer. Place the pot back on the heat and let simmer for 1-3 minute(s), then cover the pot and remove from heat for 10-15 minutes. Run eggs under cold water.
9:16 PM: One of the Dogs went to Lizzy’s house;
(Screenshot of Lizzy and Omaybo’s liveblog)
Facebook chatting with Lizzy about liveblogging.
9:21 PM: From my Facebook chat with Lizzy;
9:23 PM: I deleted an entry to this liveblog from 1:52 PM which read “I typed something about how I am friends with some people that I feel like I hate then I deleted the sentence.” and an entry from 7:42 PM which read “I feel like much of this liveblog betrays something about what I want to be seen doing, and though the format implies a sort of affectless intimacy/honesty, this could have been avoided (or, at least, the consequences which I do not wish to procreate could have been avoided) through a change in prose voice, at least in the parts that I would, if I felt like, erase. I feel like erasing parts of this liveblog would only be effective if the delete excerpts were then copied and pasted in current posts which read “I deleted the part of the liveblog posted at [time] that read [excerpt] because [reason]” which I may do.” because I thought it would be funny to delete something dealing with its own deletion and then the original post that referred to a catalogue which catalogues its own deletion.
9:27 PM: I deleted a portion of the entry to this liveblog from 12:37 PM of this screenshot;
because, lacking the materials necessary to complete the dare, I am erasing its existence from this catalogue, to excuse myself from failure. I am not deleting the subsequent posts which refer to this dare because that is funny to me.
9:40 PM: I’m not going to blog about egg salad.
9:49 PM: I deleted an entry to this liveblog from 9:44 PM which read “Eating egg salad doesn’t feel nearly as bad as writing about egg salad.” because I’m not sure if I want that in this liveblog. If I decide I do then I will repost it.
9:51 PM: Went outside to smoke. Thinking about how much more there is to liveblog, how much I’ve liveblogged already. Forgot to bring cigarettes. Going to leave MacBook outside while I get cigarettes. It’s dark out, I’m going to perform the Ouija divination ritual around midnight outside somewhere. I will start researching how to perform the Ouija divination ritual. Going back inside to get cigarettes.
9:59 PM: While getting cigarettes, thought about/imagined/remembered Eli singing the line “Baby girl, what’s your name?” in an inflective, childlike voice. About an hour ago I received this dare from Liam;
My response;
It felt like styrofoam or insulation, but weaker, more giving, soft, my finger began to insert into it.
10:07 PM: I watched Kit’s video of themself singing “Easy Way Out” by Elliot Smith.
10:11 PM: Horrible yellow foam beginning to grow on finger.
10:12 PM: Washed horrible yellow foam off my hands. Felt a sonically impossible “Woof” in my solar plexus; where the hells are the Dogs?
10:13 PM: Why do I feel anxious? [Long answer about capitalism, patriarchy probably]
10:16 PM: Nevermind about performing the Ouija divination ritual outside, I will perform it in my bedroom
Note: Though I posted my internet history in an attempt to capture my experiences from 12 AM to the time I woke up, I will continue liveblogging until I decide to go to sleep, which will likely be between 2 and 4 AM.
10:19 PM: I’m watching Kit’s video of them singing my request, “Diamonds” by Rihanna, grinning/beaming.
10:15 PM: Feel horrible yellow foam growing beneath the skin of my left index finger.
10:27 PM:
“The best time for a séance is in the evening between 9.00pm and midnight.” Thus I will begin the Ouija divination ritual around 11:00 PM.
10:39 PM: I deleted a portion of the entry to this liveblog from 12:41 PM which read “Asked Penny to explain her request, unable to find any examples of Trojan makeup.” because I felt like this referral to the dare from Penny which I deleted is not so much “funny” as “inconsistent but could be understood in context”.
10:51 PM: Finger feels stiff with horrible yellow foam.
10:54 PM: Preparing Ouija divination ritual; bowl of water, jar of salt, candle surrounding Ouija Board. Feels like doing this alone fails the plurality that would dissolve my individual will thus allowing the spirits to manipulate the divining bodies, or rather, since I’m doing it alone I can make it say whatever I want it to. However I will attempt to clear my mind of any will for [anything] during the ritual. I’m texting Maisie until it begins.
11:01 PM: Received dare “I dare you to come to brunch with us” from Penny Q (not Penny Goring), I hope I wake up in time to go to brunch with whoever “they” are.
11:05 PM: Feeling an intense aversion to Ouija board divination ritual. Need to try to “clear my mind of negative thoughts and feelings” before proceeding.
11:27 PM: Ouija divination ritual transcript. Questions in normal font, answers from Ouija Board in italics. (note: I was asked to close my laptop during the ritual, so I am reconstructing the conversation from memory)
Are there any spirits hear tonight that would like to communicate with me?
YES
Spirit, did you wish to speak to me specifically tonight?
[The looking key wavered a bit among the letters on the board for about 5 minutes]
Spirit, I can tell you cannot answer the question. Would you like me to close my laptop?
YES
[I closed my laptop]
Spirit, are you the soul of a deceased being?
T H E M
You’re a collective spirit?
G U E
Spirit, am I unable to communicate with your world because I am unable to impose my own will and desires onto this ritual?
YES
Spirit, I don’t believe I can continue this communication. Thank you for speaking with me, if indeed you did speal with me.
GOODBYE.
[I blew the candle out, turned out the lights, opened my laptop, feel anticlimactic, defeated, will one day blog about a group Ouija experience.]
11:35 PM: Talking to Kit and Hel on Facebook about my inability to divine via Ouija board.
11:38 PM: Hel told me things that make me feel less self-conscious regarding the séance;
My room/house feels like an aspiritual insulator and I need to actively work to make it a more livable and conductive space.
Space is very important in every context.
11:52 PM: Actively pursuing kindness in conversation with Hel.
11:55 PM: I deleted portions of the entries to this liveblog from 5:29 PM, 5:39 PM, 6:58 PM, and will not repost them here as a catalogue of their own deletion because I made the rules and I will change them as I see fit.
12:11 AM: Received a text message from Dylan which read “I enjoyed catching up on your live blogging throughout the day”. I am glad Dylan and I decided two nights ago to become friends. I sent this to Kit via Facebook: http://vocaroo.com/i/s0Kx6YwpV7KC
I am talking to Jason in Facebook chat, sending him recordings of the guitar parts of punk songs I have written for our band that has its first practice session on Monday (time subject to change). I am talking to Sky about where ze is (the woods) and how hir travels are going. Kit bookmarked the Vocaroo recording. I am texting Maisie about how I am not as attentive a text responder since I got an iPhone due to the easiness with which texts can be forgotten.
12:17 AM: I frequently feel frazzled. It seems like this should have surpassed 6000 words in word count (which admittedly includes the time slots and other ephemera) but It is currently, including this entry, at 5887 words.
12:33 AM: Maisie messaged me on Facebook about avoiding a situation in which she would be alone with a boy who likes her whom she does not like in his room by pretending she received an important phone call, which reminds me of the various ways in which I have avoided very similar situations, and how, in general, I cherish my ability to avoid/a-void most situations without consequence.
12:47 AM: Have sent Jason the skeleton of 4 songs via email. Moved all screenshots I have taken during this liveblog into a folder named “Liveblog June 22” on my desktop. Converting Garageband recordings to MP3 to send to Jason. Messaging Kit and Maisie. Texting Dylan.
12:49 AM: Can no longer type with left hand due to undergrowth of horrible yellow foam which has swollen my left arm to the elbow.
12:51 AM: Talking with Maisie about being naked together. Currently naked.
1:01 AM: Sent all 7 songs to Jason, messaging/texting friends, feel exhausted and relaxed in exhaustion.
1:03 AM: thinking about how many people (myself included) do not actively notice/remember that a camera had to be present for every photo we view, which is only made apparent for seemingly posed photography, but not immediate-seeming documentations, unless [something]. Mostly thinking about this post on Tumblr and how following its publication people asked Walter if the caption he posted beneath it was true, and how absurd this would seem if they remembered that a photographer whose images Walter would have access to must have been present during the event. Horrible yellow foam has begun to spread to the inside of my shoulder, skin on left hand splitting, giving way to ever-growing horrible yellow foam.
1:14 AM:
1:21 AM: Yes I do avoid anything.
1:23 AM: I don’t know if I want to read any essays about blogging and female subjectivity since most that I’ve seen tend to focus on bloggers that produce, reproduce, and circulate an aesthetic mostly centered on a very particular kind of white cis girlhood, or on fandom bloggers and young women who write fan fiction, but there is probably something to say about [what I said at the beginning of the statement]. Maybe somebody wrote something about it with regards to Megan Boyle’s liveblog.
1:40 AM: Pleasantly, nothing has happened.
1:42 AM: My left arm feels inflamed to the shoulder. The horrible yellow foam is growing over my left hand. and peeling the skin away at the forearm.
1:49 AM: I see something new and gay about One Direction every day.
1:50 AM: Due to conversation with Maisie, imagining finger-sized (in length and thickness) eyelashes surrounding a person’s butthole.
1:53: Hard to breathe/move torso due to horrible yellow foam undergrowth, left arm totally useless due to overgrowth. Will sleep on char that was once my bed. Aware that by morning I will be a horrible foaming body. Due to circumstances, discontinuing liveblog. Thank you for reading.
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