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Monday, September 30th, 2002
9:57 pm

Du mußt Caligari werden!

(7 harnannen | harno)

Sunday, September 8th, 2002
1:37 pm - nostalgia
I once wrapped someone up in aluminum foil and put them in the microwave to cook for 15.5 minutes.


current mood: heheheh

(9 harnannen | harno)

Saturday, September 7th, 2002
6:44 pm
You know what's fun? Busking in the streets of Swan City with your 'twin' rallying for an empty cause.

We devoted 2 hours to singing propaganda about Mother Rohan, and how mad equine disease can be sexually transmitted, and then we devoted another 3 hours to singing propaganda about Dol Amroth and how they are a fine race of part-elves with a capitol city that smells an awful lot like turkey dogs. One hour more than Rohirrim songs because dwelling on the visual image of brawny illiterate and pigtailed men limping about suffering from Mad Cow Disease was almost too much to bear for our aching sides.

Besides, rhyming 'horse-fucker' with 'fuckin' sucker' as much as possible is quite fun.

Heh. Heh. Heh.


With the profits from our busking, we decided to make a splurge on this lone item:


(8 harnannen | harno)

Wednesday, September 4th, 2002
11:14 pm - la la la la la
Mind you, that all that occurs in this world seems to have no set rule of morality, so just think of all of this hypothetically, as I imagine you could do so.

As of this moment I can only think of two reasons why one would choose to kill themselves:
1) Out of the notion that one would be exacting revenge upon another by destroying one's self. The motivating factor of offing yourself would be that this other party, who perhaps has hurt the suicidal mongrel so, shall suffer the most extraordinary amount of guilt when the suicide has been delivered. And this great amount of guilt will drive THIS person to their untimely demise too. This is called selfishness. The thought of driving someone into despair on one's behalf (which would be death) excites them so much that they would be willing to sacrifice existing and enjoying the sweet fruits of life and perhaps witnessing this other party's despair. Kill yourself over an expectation. How lovely.
2) Killing yourself simply to rid yourself of this world. The world disgusts you so much that you'd rather not be a part of it. It would be an independent action, completely out of your own consideration and not of others. It is not your parents' fault that they've spawned you and left life to spurn you. You do not have any motivating grudge against anyone in particular. You just want everything to cease to exist. And you deteriorate so far into rags, as you can imagine Roskolnikov in Crime and Punishment, rejecting the world, feeling revulsion at even touching and being a part of it. Thus you decide simply to eject yourself from it. As simple as that.

Now think of this: theoretically, you decide to kill someone out of boredom. You've made your peace with your life, that there is no hope that you would ever become the person that your parents have envisioned, and you simply don't care. You are bored and you don't feel like slowly letting cancer kill you as you continue smoking two packs of cigarettes a day. You are too lazy to get a job just so you could afford meagre living for yourself, in an apartment, on a couch bought from IKEA, staring blankly at the television screen before drinking a glass of wine before retiring for the night. Wanking off in bed while thinking of tight bodies.

So why not kill someone out of boredom?

You are willing to accept the consequences for the action you are about to take. Society's rules dictates that when one takes another's life in a brutal manner, that one should be punished for their actions, as the law deems fit.
So, you're going to die anyway, so why not? You don't believe in religion, you don't believe that there is anything beyond living, that you will somehow be transported into to a magical place of purity where your soul will rest forever and ever in peace. You think that's total bullshit and you don't give any more thought to it.
You will live in your cell in modest luxury; you will be fed, clothed, and bathed. Sure, you might risk being assraped by some other cellmate, but you understand that this is part of your consequence.
And there will be the court trial when those related to the person of whom you have killed will try to make you feel guilty. They will try to make you feel emotional pain and regret over what you have done; taking away a life that didn't deserve to be taken away.
They might even say:
I wonder who you think you are
You damn well think you're God or something
God give life, God taketh it away, not you
I think you are the Devil itself

But you know that even if you felt guilt, even if you started to believe that what you did was wrong, soon it won't matter. You wouldn't exist anymore. That all of this might as well be seen as filler until your consciousness blinks out forever. And you accept it. Before you decided to kill someone, you accept that this is going to happen: that they will try to make you feel guilt.
And then there will be that last meal to look forward to. You can eat whatever you want. The final gorging of the belly and an attack of bliss of the senses before you are zapped away.

And you accept this is a pretty full life, it's as much as you can aspire to, because in the end, as cliched as it is, it doesn't matter at all.

But hey, this opine doesn't matter at all either, right? In this world, in this dimension, it's all irrelevent. There are no set of morals that others inhabit and keep dear to their hearts, and killing out of boredom is a common occurence every day.

(24 harnannen | harno)

Saturday, August 24th, 2002
12:43 am

Trading Cards
House of Elrond Edition
User Number: 466225
Date Created:2002-02-12
Number of Posts: 222

Elladan, son of Elrond and Celebrían, brother to Elrohir and Arwen, husband to Tindómiel. Former fratricidal/suicidal/mad scientist hell bent on destroying those around him and himself.
Strengths: Eyeliner, photography, written word
Weaknesses: Fickleness, self-disgust, parenting skills, being a good boyfriend skills
Special Skills: Throwing poses, pretending to play guitar, self-made tattoos
Weapons: Sharp objects: any and all
Nickname: Psycho Elf.

Make your own LiveJournal Trading Card!
Brought to you by crossfire

(3 harnannen | harno)

Thursday, August 15th, 2002
9:04 pm - hello.
A long time ago, at approximately 139 of the Third Age, I popped out of my mother's body, squeezing myself through her vast vaginal canals and coated with warm fluids and itty bitty bits of placenta.

Apparently, the moment Elrohir came out, I turned my wee little head, stuck out my arm and proceeded in a failed attempt to rip out his eyeballs. Of course, I didn't really remember and know for sure that all of this happened, but these are some of the stories that my dear father and Uncle Glorfie would tell me from time to time, as I was growing up.

Oh, Uncle Glorfie. Uncle Glorfie was my hero when I was an adolescent, from that time he had those razorblades and feigned suicide for the camera. Was that the beginning of my messy emotional distress through exhibitionism? Perhaps. Or maybe we'll never know, because this shit can be rather irrelevent and I can't quite place any anecdotal merit in it, other than the fact that I stole those razorblades and proceeded to try and gut my brother open with it, alas, unsuccessfully - that was the first time I was placed in a straitjacket. I was twelve years old.

I suppose that in my first life, I tended to strike outwards in order to drain all this panic and frustrations in me noggin. Of course, my brother Elrohir got the bane of all of this, as his body is covered with scars from my attempts of fratricide. It was neat, you know, taking up weaponry, or at least stealing all those ancient artifacts with fuckloads of sentimental value from my father's armoury, and running your finger over the blades and imagining what sort of lovely gushing sounds would emit from orcs and other living and breathing individuals when that shining blade would strike their throats, their skull, oh, the skull - such a glorious noise that makes! The sound of a melon when you attack it once with a knife - peals of ecstasy that the melons create!


But then I died. It was this situation: I decided that I wanted to go West, to Valinor; a proper thing for an elf to do, right? But I thought that I could, like, swim across the sea. Mind you, this particular section of the sea I was located at had glaciers floating on the top. Not a particularly good idea of mine, at the time. So I was turned into fishfood and it was 'bye bye Elladan' - FOR THE FIRST TIME!

Nienna was kind enough to turn me into a maia - something of which I have been puzzling over ever since. Maybe she just felt sorry for me? Although pity is something I never really appreciated for everyone and anyone.

After great pestering, I came back and stayed at home again, in my old room in Rivendell. I made an iron maiden in the likeness of Elbereth which I'm sure she appreciated very much, and I took up boinking my cousin Tindomiel. Oh, Tindomiel, how I love you so. Possibly more than everyone else I've ever given any shred of attention to, ever. But there is a factor which came into being - you can't wrestle someone so hell-bent on destroying themselves and loathing themselves to simply stop. They have to do it themselves. They have to realise that what they are doing is stupid and it hurts others (although this self-obsession is purely selfish and nature and therefore the factor of hurting others is deemed irrelevent) - and they have to decide for themselves to pull themselves out of that lull and get on with their lives. It's the tiny things that make you happy: maybe it's the smile on Tindomiel's face when you gave her that crocodile's head for a present and she put it on her own head, laughing. Maybe it's reading a story and falling in love with a character that seems so much more real to you than anyone you've ever met in your entire life. They live and breathe inside your head and seemingly, that's all that matters.

Then I died again. I tied myself up in that old fetal bag that Faramir used for my therapy many moons ago along with heavy stones and tossed myself into a river.

So it goes.

And now, I am wondering; is living a third life really necessary? First, I had lashed outwards, and then I lashed inwards. What other possibilities can there be?

Of course, I can just shove all of this aside and treat myself to a nice bowl of ice cream and another dose of Amadeus. Which I think I will do right now.

(22 harnannen | harno)

Monday, July 15th, 2002
12:37 am
The Observer: Do you feel terribly pleased when you've written one?
P. Larkin: Yes, as if I've laid an egg, and even more pleased when I see it published. Because I do think that's a part of it: you want it to be seen and read, you're trying to preserve something. Not for yourself, but for the people who haven't seen it or heard it or experienced it.

Elladan always was more of a mere puppet to me. As corny as it is, I put thought into him and his entries, as retarded, idiotic, and subpar as all of them are, and I became extremely attached to him - he even became a reflection of my current state of mind.

But I suppose that is all over and he's become some sort of dying horse that needs to be shot and put out of its patheticness.

So, Elladan is bowing out. Go on, Elladan, bow.

[Elladan bows.]

Elladan: It's been nice existing with you all, and I figure I should go and live peacefully with my wife in the sunset or some shit like that - burrowed happily and nestled like spoons in Audrey's head. Because I do deserve some happiness after all she's put me through. I adore you all. Bye bye, everyone.

So there you have it.

*puts on recording of Sid Vicious's cover of 'My Way'*

[Elladan, Tindomiel, and Audrey hold hands and sing]:
And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full.
I've traveled each and ev'ry highway;
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets, I've had a few;
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course;
Each careful step along the byway,
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way!!!!!

[Audrey takes out a pistol and picks off the people in the audience.]


(8 harnannen | harno)

Sunday, July 14th, 2002
11:44 pm - so
I got sucked into a vacuum. Then I conversed with my fellow cousin Manwendil about our illustrious past of black eyeliner and white face powder coupled with humpa-humpa-humpin' a-plenty.

Also, it was revealed to the world that BabyVana buttplugs were being manufactured - and I have found out who would dare do such things!!

My dear and darling light of my heart, fire of my ghostly loins, beauty far greater than a thousand shining stars, etc wife have been communicating with these buggers and can personally attest to the fact that they have indeed been manufacturing these shameful buttplugs! Who else with such a great fixation on the rectal regions would ever make such a thing?!

So there.

Mystery solved.


12:14 am
Enter transmission: Elladan speaking here. Must say that Irmo/Lorien stopped stalking when his extremities prone to becoming filled with divine juice and mojo turned to plastic, thus making him as sexually distinct as a Ken doll.
I know not where my wife went!
I am also currently speaking from inside one of Manwendil's vacuum bags. It is dusty here and filled with boogers.
Death shouldn't have this sort of restriction, dammit. I guess that's what you get for killing yourself... twice by being unappreciative of life. Neh.
End transmission.

current mood: cramped

(42 harnannen | harno)

Tuesday, July 9th, 2002
2:20 am
Nothing like becoming domesticated in marriage while dead. Especially when you've married your cousin and all - you can't be a hick as elf and half-elf while romping in a mass of land populated by deities, can you?

Yeah. I wonder where the vodka went.

current mood: husbandy


Sunday, June 9th, 2002
11:37 pm - hello
Hi, Elladan's mun speaking here. I would like to announce (although many shouldn't care) that I will be leaving this for at least a week until I get some things straightened out. Elladan seems to be giving me a lot more stress than I should be getting, and the purpose of this game is to have fun, and not get upset over it - something which I have been failing to achieve for a little while now.

Maybe when I come back, this will change. But for now, adios everyone.

(2 harnannen | harno)

11:13 pm
It's just fucking better this way. My brain isn't capable of fixing things and itself anymore. I can carve my name into my skin a thousand times over and sever bone from bone and nothing helps. It's the same as everything a breeze fluttering the eyelids.

Water again. Swallow a thousand stones that help you sink to the bottom faster. I can drown myself in this sack alone. Bind stones to your wrists and ankles instead. Sink sink sink sink sink sink to the bottom where there's little specks of cells swimming all around you.

And then it seems like your heart explodes and your eyes turn into mouths that eat light.


(1 harnannen | harno)

8:35 pm
Dear Tindómiel,

I'm in Ithilien still, I think. I would like to talk to you before I...leave. I'm going to be calling you. I still have leftover change from when I bought that keyboard for that unappreciative fucker Thomomir.
Please pick up the phone.

Love, Elladan.

(15 harnannen | harno)

12:35 am - boom boom boom

I told the witch doctor I was in love with you
I told the witch doctor you didn't love me too
And then the witch doctor, he told me what to do
He said that ....
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang...
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
I told the witch doctor you didn't love me true
I told the witch doctor you didn't love me nice
And then the witch doctor, he game me this advice
He said to ...
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang...
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Now, you've been keeping love from me
Just like you were a miser
And I'll admit I wasn't very smart
So I went out and found myself
A guy that's so much wiser
And he taught me the way to win your heart
My friend the witch doctor, he taught me what to say
My friend the witch doctor, he taught me what to do
I know that you'll be mine when I say this to you
Oh, Baby ....
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang...
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang
Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang
Walla walla, bing bang

(3 harnannen | harno)

Saturday, June 8th, 2002
10:12 pm
asfkdlsjfkjsdfs pictures of me, manwendil, and other...elves.Collapse )

current mood: i know i believe in nothing

(9 harnannen | harno)

9:30 pm
Dear Tindómiel,

I miss you very much. The Rohirrim hasn't killed me yet or anything because apparently the King's mother is too coked up to care to murder me or anything, and the King is more nervous at the prospect of my presence than anything else. She made me eggs. They were quite good; I forgot what eggs tasted like - I hadn't eaten them in a long time. I have this grating feeling that I'll have to refrain from eating for the next couple of days to lose the weight that the eggs gave me, but that's okay. Éowyn has let me stay in the den for the time being, and there's a tv here and everything. I watched the E! channel and saw all the thin models on the catwalk and everything. That was interesting. My hand is becoming infected, I think. It's turned a rather greenish colour which I gather isn't a very good sign but it's ok.
I hope you're alright. You've been through so much already and I'm sorry that I was stupid enough to contribute to your stress like this. I'm so sorry for everything.
I hope I'll get to see you soon. I love you.


(7 harnannen | harno)

3:31 am - sfdfnskdjfhk

I guess I'm kidnapped. There's roaches in my cell and I'm cold. And the guard smacked me in the head before locking me in and now I think my right ear is bleeding.

Oh well.

I feel bad for yelling at Faramir although he fucking deserved it that stupid and deaf motherfucking bastard. My left hand has gone numb and the stump where my index finger used to be is starting to smell funny. Ooooh I bet infection is next and then my entire hand will have to be amputated, that is, if I'm not killed before then. I wonder if I'm going to die before or after the parade that fucking Faramir was so looking forward to that fucking bastard sadkjasdlsa. I'd shoot myself in the groin again rather than see him harmed destroyed like Tindomiel was sakjaslkdjaslkdjashoeia. I love him, okay? I have the names of both my best friends scarred on my arms now, okay?

It just occured to me that I haven't climbed a tree in so long. I mean, really climbed a tree and crawling up the branches skywards. Oh well. Everybody, I'm sorry about what happened and since death is so temporary it doesn't really matter. But then you wonder if it's even worth coming back for, all of this.

Ow my ear.

current mood: cold and wet

(20 harnannen | harno)

Friday, June 7th, 2002
11:45 pm


current mood: dsfsdgsfgdfgsdgfs

(7 harnannen | harno)

11:12 pm - hello hi
Today I arrived in Numenor. I insisted on staying with Tindomiel. After teary and excited reunion, I decided that she's never going to leave my sight.

Tindomiel felt tired so I lied there next to her as she slept and couldn't sleep because I know if I tried to sleep I'll sleep for eighteen hours like how I am now and I don't know why I sleep for so long but I do and I can't remember anything because I don't dream anything and it's like time hiccups.
Then she woke up and had to go to the bathroom. I sat outside the bathroom counting the seconds until she got out.
She's in the bathroom again.
Seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twentyone twentytwo twentythree twentyfour...

(8 harnannen | harno)

Wednesday, June 5th, 2002
10:18 pm - hi

Tindomiel has been kidnapped.

I picked all my stitches open.

And then I poured acetone on the wounds.


(9 harnannen | harno)

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