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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in _eraserhead's LiveJournal:

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Tuesday, April 8th, 2008
4:38 pm
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side

-hst
Saturday, November 24th, 2007
2:20 pm
Friday, November 23rd, 2007
5:14 pm
buffalo springfield


Download this song, it's so so so good. The whole album is, actually.


There you stood
on the edge of your feather,
Expecting to fly.
While I laughed,
I wondered whether
I could wave goodbye,
Knowin' that you'd gone.
By the summer it was healing,
We had said goodbye.
All the years
we'd spent with feeling
Ended with a cry,
Babe, ended with a cry,
Babe, ended with a cry.

I tried so hard to stand
As I stumbled
and fell to the ground.
So hard to laugh as I fumbled
And reached for the love I found,
Knowin' it was gone.
If I never lived without you,
Now you know I'd die.
If I never said I loved you,
Now you know I'd try,
Babe, now you know I'd try.
Babe, now you know I'd try,
Babe.
Wednesday, November 7th, 2007
6:43 pm
No regrets Coyote
We just come from such different sets of circumstance
I'm up all night in the studios
And you're up early on your ranch
You'll be brushing out a brood mare's tail
While the sun is ascending
And I'll just be getting home with my reel to reel...
There's no comprehending
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes
And the lips you can get
And still feel so alone
And still feel related
Like stations in some relay
You're not a hit and run driver, no, no
Racing away
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

We saw a farmhouse burning down
In the middle of nowhere
In the middle of the night
And we rolled right past that tragedy
Till we turned into some road house lights
Where a local band was playing
Locals were up kicking and shaking on the floor
And the next thing I know
That Coyote's at my door
He pins me in a corner and he won't take "No!"
He drags me out on the dance floor
And we're dancing close and slow
Now he's got a woman at home
He's got another woman down the hall
He seems to want me anyway
Why'd you have to get so drunk
And lead me on that way
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines of the freeway

I looked a Coyote right in the face
On the road to Baljennie near my old home town
He went running thru the whisker wheat
Chasing some prize down
And a hawk was playing with him
Coyote was jumping straight up and making passes
He had those same eyes - just like yours
Under your dark glasses
Privately probing the public rooms
And peeking thru keyholes in numbered doors
Where the players lick their wounds
And take their temporary lovers
And their pills and powders to get them thru this passion play

No regrets, Coyote
I just get off up aways
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

Coyote's in the coffee shop
He's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs
He picks up my scent on his fingers
While he's watching the waitresses' legs
He's too fat from the Bay of Fundy
From Appaloosas and Eagles and tides
And the air conditioned cubicles
And the carbon ribbon rides
Are spelling it out so clear
Either he's going to have to stand and fight
Or take off out of here
I tried to run away myself
To run away and wrestle with my ego
And with this flame
You put here in this Eskimo
In this hitcher
In this prisoner
Of the fine white lines
Of the white lines on the free, free way
Monday, October 22nd, 2007
8:59 pm
Fare you well, my honey, fare you well my only true one.
All the birds that were singing are flown, except you alone.

Going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hand and knees, I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed by the waterside,
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll roll.

In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside I will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.

River going to take me, sing sweet and sleepy,
Sing me sweet and sleepy all the way back home.
Its a far gone lullaby, sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds Ive come since I first left home.

Goin home, goin home, by the riverside I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.

Going to plant a weeping willow,
On the banks green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll.

Fare you well, fare you well, I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
Tuesday, September 25th, 2007
3:09 am
I'm looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don't look different, but you have changed
I'm looking through you, you're not the same

Your lips are moving, I cannot hear
Your voice is soothing, but the words aren't clear
You don't sound different, I've learned the game.
I'm looking through you, you're not the same

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

You're thinking of me, the same old way
You were above me, but not today
The only difference is you're down there
I'm looking through you, and you're nowhere

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

I'm looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don't look different, but you have changed
I'm looking through you, you're not the same
Sunday, July 29th, 2007
6:06 pm
The pawnbroker roared
Also, so, did the landlord
The scene was so crazy, wasn't it?
Both were so glad
To watch me destroy what I had
Pain sure brings out the best in people, doesn't it?
Why didn't you just leave me if you didn't want to stay?
Why'd you have to treat me so bad?
Did it have to be that way?
now you stand here expectin' me to remember somethin' you forgot to say
Yes, and you, I see you're still with her, well
That's fine 'cause she's comin' on so strange, can't you tell?
Somebody had better explain
She's got her iron chain
I'd do it, but I, I just can't remember how
You talk to her
She's your lover now

I already assumed
That we're in the felony room
But I ain't a judge, you don't have to be nice to me
But please tell that
To your friend in the cowboy hat
You know he keeps on sayin' ev'rythin' twice to me
You know I was straight with you
You know I've never tried to change you in any way
You know if you didn't want to be with me
That you could...didn't have to stay
Now you stand here sayin' you forgive and forget
Honey, what can I say?
Yes, you, you just sit around and ask for ashtrays, can't you reach?
I see you kiss her on the cheek ev'rytime she gives a speech
With her picture books of the pyramid
And her postcards of Billy the Kid (why must everybody bow?)
You better talk to her 'bout it
You're her lover now

Oh, ev'rybody that cares
Is goin' up the castle stairs
But I'm not up in your castle, honey
It's true, I just can't recall
San Francisco at all
I can't even remember El Paso, uh, honey
You never had to be faithful
I didn't want you to grieve
Oh, why was it so hard for you
If you didn't want to be with me, just to leave?
NOw you stand here while your finger's goin' up my sleeve
An' you, just what do you do anyway? Ain't there nothin' you can say?
She'll be standin' on the bar soon
With a fish head an' a harpoon'
An a fake beard plastered on her brow
You'd better do somethin' quick
She's your lover now

Oh, why must I fall into this sadness?
Do I look like Charles Atlas?
Do you think I still got what you still got, baby?
Her voice is really warm
It's just that it ain't got no form
But it's just like a dead man's last pistol shot, baby
Oh, your mouth used to be naked,
your eyes used to be so blue
Your hurts used to be so nameless
and your tears used to be so few
Now your eyes cry wolf while your mouth cries:
"I'm not scared of animals like you."
And you there's really nothing about you I can recall
I just saw you that one time and you were just there, that's all
But I've already been kissed,
I'm not gonna get into this
I couldn't make it anyhow
You do it for me
You're her lover now

-Bob Dylan
Monday, June 25th, 2007
11:43 pm

Leland, Leland the time has come for you to seek the path. Your soul has set you face to face with a clear light, and you are now about to experience it in its reality, wherein all things are like the void and cloudless sky, and the naked spotless intellect is like a transparent vacuum, without circumference or center. Leland, in this moment know yourself, and abide in that state. Look to the light, Leland, find the light. Into the light, Leland, into the light. Into the light, Leland, into the light.

Tuesday, June 12th, 2007
7:59 pm
i like this one,

Split

What can I do
with this love of mine
with this hairy knob
with this poison wine

Who shall I take
to the edge of despair
with my knee on her heart
and my lips in her hair

So I'll take all my love
and I'll split it in two
and there's one part for me
and there's one part for you

And we'll drink the wine
and we'll hide the staff
and the lover will groan
and the other will laugh

And I'll go to your bed
and I'll lie by your side
and I'll bury the bones
and I'll marry the bride

And you'll do the same
when you come to my room
You'll dig in my dirt
and you'll bury the groom

And I swear by this love
which is living and dead
that we will be separate
and we will be wed

-Leonard Cohen, Mt. Baldy, 1994
Sunday, June 3rd, 2007
5:16 pm
I'M NOT THERE (1956) - Bob Dylan


Ev'ry thing's all right
And then she's all the time in my neighborhood
She cries both day and night
I know because it was there

It's a milestone but she's down on her luck
And the day makes her lonely
And it's so hard to buck, I was there

I believe that she'd stop him if she would start to care
I believe that she'd look upon this side
And t' care and I'd go by the road
When she's on my way, but I don't belong there

No I don't belong to her
I don't belong to anybody
She's my prize forsaken angel
But she don't care she cries
She's a lone-hearted mystic and she can carry on

When I'm there, she's all right
But she's not when I'm gone
Heaven knows that the answer she's don't call in no one
She's away, a sailing beauty she's mine for the one

And I'm also hesitating by temptation lest it runs
But she don't follow me
But I'm not there, I'm gone

Now I'll cry tonight, like I cried the night before
And I'll feast on her eyes
But I'll dream about the door
So long, Jesus, savior, blind faith worth to tell
It don't have consummation she's my ___

I was born to love her
But she knows that the kingdom waits so high above her
And I run but I race
But it's not too fast a pace

Of cource I'll not deceive her
I'm not there, I'm gone

Well it's all about diffusin as i cry for her veil
I don't need anybody now beside me to tell.
And it's all admiration i receive, but it's not
She's a lone bodied beauty but she don't like the spot
And she won't.

Yes, she's gone like the rain below shining yesterday
But now she's home beside me and I'd like her here to stay
She's a bohem seekin' beauty and it's "Don't trust anyone"
I wish i was beside her but i'm not there, i'm gone.

Well, it's too hard to mistake him and i don't bother leave
It's all back for to muse in then she's hard, too hard to deal
It's a load, it's a crime the way she moulds me around
But she told, to foresake me
Just a dawn forsaken clown.

Yes i believe that it's rightful, oh i believe it in my mind
I been told like i said when i before carry on the grind
And she's all ____ told her, like i said "Carry on"
I wish i was there to help her but i'm not there, i'm gone.
Thursday, May 3rd, 2007
2:59 pm
May 3, 2007 -- KINDERGARTEN kids in ritzy L.A. suburb Calabasas have been coming home to their parents and talking about the "weird man" who keeps coming to their class to sing "scary" songs on his guitar. The "weird" one turns out to be Bob Dylan, whose grandson (Jakob Dylan's son) attends the school. He's been singing to the kindergarten class just for fun, but the kiddies have no idea they're being serenaded by a musical legend - to them, he's just Weird Guitar Guy.
Sunday, April 29th, 2007
4:12 am
A MESSAGE

from Bob Dylan

(Sent to the Emergency Civil Liberties Committee
after he received the Tom Paine Award at the
Bill of Rights dinner on December 13, 1963.)


to anybody it may concern...
clark?
mairi?
phillip?
edith?
mr lamont?
countless faces I do not know
an all fighters for good things that I can not see

when I speak of bald heads, I mean bald minds
when I speak of the seashore, I mean the restin shore
I dont know why I mentioned either of them

my life runs in a series of moods
in private an in personal ways, sometimes,
I, myself, can change the mood I'm in t the
mood I'd like t be in. when I walked thru the
doors of the americana hotel, I needed to change
my mood... for reasons inside myself.

I am a restless soul
hungry
perhaps wretched

it is hard to hear someone you dont know, say
"this is what he meant t say" about something
you just said

for no one can say what I meant t say
absolutely no one
at times I even cant
that was one of those times

my life is lived out daily in the places I feel
most confortable in. these places are places where
I am unknown an unstared at. I perform rarely, an
when I do, there is a constant commotion burnin
at my body an at my mind because of the attention
aimed at me. instincts fight my emotions an fears
fight my instincts...

I do not claim t be smart by the standards set up
I dont even claim to be normal by the standards
set up
an I do not claim to know any kind of truth

but like an artist who puts his painting (after
he's painted it) in front of thousands of unknown
eyes, I also put my song there that way
(after I've made it)
it is as easy an as simple as that

I can not speak. I can not talk
I can only write an I can only sing
perhaps I should've sung a song
but that wouldn't a been right either
for I was given an award not to sing
but rather on what I have sung

no what I should've said was
"thank you very much ladies an gentlemen"
yes that is what I should've said
but unfortunatly... I didn't
an I didn't because I did not know

I thought something else was expected of me
other than just sayin "thank you"
an I did not know what it was
it is a fierce heavy feeling
thinkin something is expected of you
but you dont know what exactly it is...
it brings forth a wierd form of guilt

I should've remembered
"I am BOB DYLAN an I dont have t speak
I dont have t say nothin if I dont wanna"
but
I didn't remember

I constantly asked myself while eatin supper
"what should I say? what should I tell 'm?
everybody else is gonna tell 'm something"
but I could not answer myself
I even asked someone who was sittin nex t me
an he couldn't tell me neither. my mind blew
up an needless t say I had t get it back in its
rightful shape (whatever that might be) an so
I escaped from the big room... only t hear my
name being shouted an the words "git in here
git in here" overlappin with the findin of my
hand being pulled across hundreds of tables
with the lights turned on strong... guidin me
back t where I tried t escape from
"what should I say? what should I say?"
over an over again
oh God, I'd a given anything not t be there
"shut the lights off at least"
people were coughin an my head was poundin
an the sounds of mumble jumble sank deep in
my skull from all sides of the room
until I tore everything loose from my mind
an said "just be honest, dylan, just be honest"

an so I found myself in front of the plank
like I found myself once in the path of a car
an I jumped...
jumped with all my bloody might
just tryin t get out a the way
but first screamin one last song

when I spoke of Lee Oswald, I was speakin of the times
I was not speakin of his deed if it was his deed.
the deed speaks for itself
but I am sick
so sick
at hearin "we all share the blame" for every
church bombing, gun battle, mine disaster,
poverty explosion, an president killing that
comes about.
it is so easy t say "we" an bow our heads together
I must say "I" alone an bow my head alone
for it is I alone who is livin my life
I have beloved companions but they do not
eat nor sleep for me
an even they must say "I"
yes if there's violence in the times then
there must be violence in me
I am not a perfect mute.
I hear the thunder an I cant avoid hearin it
once this is straight between us, it's then an
only then that we can say "we" an really mean
it... an go on from there t do something about
it

When I spoke of Negroes
I was speakin of my Negro friends
from harlem
an Jackson
selma an birmingham
atlanta pittsburg, an all points east
west, north, south an wherever else they
might happen t be.
in rat filled rooms
an dirt land farms
schools, dimestores, factories
pool halls an street corners
the ones that dont own ties
but know proudly they dont have to
not one little bit
they dont have t be like they naturally aint
t get what they naturally own no more 'n anybody
else does
it only gets things complicated
an leads people into thinkin the wrong things
black skin is black skin
It cant be covered by clothes an made t seem
acceptable, well liked an respectable...
t teach that or t think that just tends the
flames of another monster myth...
it is naked black skin an nothin else
if a Negro has t wear a tie t be a Negro
then I must cut off all ties with who he has
t do it for.
I do not know why I wanted t say this that
nite.
perhaps it was just one of the many things
in my mind
born from the confusion of my times

when I spoke about the people that went t Cuba
I was speakin of the free right t travel
I am not afraid t see things
I challenge seein things
I am insulted t the depths of my soul
when someone I dont know commands that I
cant see this an gives me mysterious reasons
why I'll get hurt if I do see it... tellin me
at the same time about goodness an badness in
people that again I dont know...
I've been told about people all my life
about niggers, kikes, wops, bohunks, spicks, chinks,
an I been told how they eat, dress, walk, talk,
steal, rob, an kill but nobody tells me how any
of 'm feels... nobody tells me how any of 'm cries
or laughs or kisses. I'm fed up with most newspapers,
radios, tv an movies an the like t tell me. I want
now t see an know for myself...
an I accepted that award for all others like me
who want t see for themselves... an who dont want
that God-given right taken away
stolen away
or snuck out from beneath them
yes a travel ban in the south would protect
Americans more, I'm sure, than the one t Cuba
but in all honesty I would want t crash that
one too
do you understand?
do you really understand?
I mean I want t see. I want t see all I can
everyplace there is t see it
my life carries eyes
an they're there for one reason
the reason t see thru them

my country is the Minnesota-North Dakota territory
that's where I was born an learned how t walk an
it's where I was raised an went t school... my
youth was spent wildly among the snowy hills an
sky blue lakes, willow fields an abandoned open
pit mines. contrary t rumors, I am very proud of
where I'm from an also of the many blood streams that
run in my roots. but I would not be doing what
I'm doing today if I hadn't come t New York. I was
given my direction from new york. I was fed in
new york. I was beaten down by new york an I was
picked up by new york. I was made t keep going on
by new york. I'm speakin now of the people I've met
who were strugglin for their lives an other peoples'
lives in the thirties an forties an the fifties
an I look t their times
I reach out t their times
an, in a sense, am jealous of their times
t think I have no use for "old" people is a betrayin thought
those that know me know otherwise
those that dont, probably're baffled
like a friend of mine, jack elliott, who says he
was reborn in Oklahoma, I say I was reborn in
New York...
there is no age limit stuck on it
an no one is more conscious of it than I

yes it is a fierce feeling, knowin something you
dont know about's expected of you. but it's worse
if you blindly try t follow with explodin words
(for that's all they can do is explode)
an the explodin words're misunderstood
I've heard I was misunderstood

I do not apologize for myself nor my fears
I do not apologize for any statement which led
some t believe "oh my God! I think he's the one
that really shot the president"

I am a writer an a singer of the words I write
I am no speaker nor any politician
an my songs speak for me because I write them
in the confinement of my own mind an have t cope
with no one except my own self. I dont have t face
anyone with them until long after they're done

no I do not apologize for being me nor any part of me

but I can return what is rightfully yours at any
given time. I have stared at it for a long while
now. it is a beautiful award. there is a kindness
t Mr Paine's face an there is almost a sadness in
his smile. his trials show thru his eyes. I know
really not much about him but somehow I would like
t sing for him. there is a gentleness t his way.
yes thru all my flounderin wildness, I am, when it
comes down to it, very proud that you have given this
t me. I would hang it high, an let my friends see in
it what I see, but I also would give it back if
you wish. There is no sense in keepin it if you've
made a mistake in givin it. for it means more'n any
store bought thing an it'd only be cheatin t keep it

also I did not know that the dinner was a donation
dinner. I did not know you were gonna ask anyone
for money. an I understand you lost money on the
masterful way I expressed myself... then I am in debt t you
not a money debt but rather a moral debt
if you'd a sold me something, then it'd be a money debt
but you sold nothin, so it is a moral debt
an moral debts're worse 'n money debts
for they have t be paid back in whatever is missin
an in this case, it's money

please send me my bill
an I shall pay it
no matter what the sum
I have a hatred of debts an want t be even in
the best way I can
you needn't think about this, for money means
very little t me

so then

I'll return once again t the road

I cant tell you why other people write, but I
write in order to keep from going insane.
my head, I expect'd turn inside out if my hands
were t leave me.

but I hardly ever talk about why I write. an I
scarcely ever think about it. the thought of it is
too alarmin

an I never ever talk about why I speak
but that's because I never do it. this is the
first time I am talkin about it... an I pray
the last
the thought of doing it again is too scary

ha! it's a scary world
but only once in a while huh?

I love you all up there an the ones I dont love,
it's only because I do not know them an have not
seen them... God it's so hard hatin. it's so
tiresome... an after hatin something to death,
it's never worth the bother an trouble


out! out! brief candle
life's but an open window
an I must jump back thru it now


see yuh
respectfully an unrespectfully

(sgd) bob dylan
Thursday, April 26th, 2007
2:37 pm
Friday, April 20th, 2007
9:06 pm
Joni Mitchell at University of Manitoba, 1965.
Also look for Dave Van Ronk and Harry Chapin.

Thursday, March 29th, 2007
7:04 am
"if i were a poet
i would write a sonnet
it would say i love you
your name would be on it."
-Kermit the Frog


you'll probly cry at this
Wednesday, March 14th, 2007
8:34 pm
It's dreamy weather
where on you waved your crooked wand
along an icy pond
with a frozen moon
murder of silhouette crows
I saw in the tears on my face
and the skates on the pond
they spelled Alice

I disappear in your name
but you must wait for me
somewhere beneath the sea
there's a wreck of a ship
your hair is like meadowgrass on the tide
and the raindrops on my window
and the ice in my drink
baby all I can think of is Alice

arithme-tic arithme-tock
turn the hands back on the clock
how does the ocean rock the boat?
how did the razor find my throat?
the only strings that hold me here
are tangled up around the pier

and so secret kiss
brings madness with the bliss
and I will think of this
when I'm dead in my grave
set me adrift and I'm lost in your hair
and I must be insane
to go skating on your name
and by tracing it twice
I fell though the ice of Alice

there's only Alice
Thursday, March 8th, 2007
4:21 am
fun fact:
salvador dali created the Chupa Chups logo.

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fun fact 2:
salvador dali made paintings warning wwii soldiers away from banging european ladies. their vagine's were filled with the syphilis and grodiness. what i'm trying to say is: vagina's are total gross

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Monday, March 5th, 2007
2:15 am
I met you in the saddle, rode you in the dust
Held your hand to the heavens, pulled your heart to the earth
There was something blinded me more than the mist
And the breath of the cottonwood buds lighter yet

And you rode the maypole of dance hall legs
And galloped to another's embrace
And I bit the flowers from your wrist corsage
And you waltzed too slowly, too slowly you waltzed
With that girl from Widow's Grove

Oh, I'd follow you to the river, that washes out to the sea
Through the wind, through the rain of a cold dark night
That's where I'll be

Near the breath of a swallow, petals dropped as you fell
As you grabbed then shyly held me, against the stone cold well
In your hand was a glass, you held the ice against the night
And it dripped and it sparkled and I laughed a wish

Before it all slipped all down the dark, tunneled well
I heard it melt quietly and I looked at you
Bent to the earth with just one pleading wish
Your skirts brushed to the furious pounding

Oh, I'd follow you to the river, that washes out to the sea
Through the wind, through the rain of a cold dark night
That's where I'll be

I hid in the elm and raised the bough, that hung even with your neck
And I chased you and drowned you, there deep in the well
And when your mouth was full and wet, I swallowed all your reckless fate
And with your last breath, you moaned too drunk to wake

Oh, I'd follow you to the river, that washes out to the sea
Through the wind, through the rain of a cold dark night
That's where I'll be
Through the wind, through the rain of a cold dark night
That's where I'll be
Thursday, February 8th, 2007
8:04 am
Sunday, February 4th, 2007
5:59 am
SYDNEY, Australia (Reuters) -- An Australian diver on Wednesday told of how he wriggled free from the jaws of a Great White Shark that had half-swallowed him head first, saying he could feel the shark's teeth sink into his weight vest.

"I've never felt fear like it til I was inside those jaws, with those teeth getting dragged across my body," abalone diver Eric Nerhus told the Nine television network from his hospital bed a day after the attack off Australia's south-east coast.

Nerhus, 41, was partly swallowed by the 3-meter (9 foot) shark when it attacked at about 8 meters below the surface, but said he managed managed to fight his way free by jabbing the shark's eye with his free left hand.

"I went straight into its mouth, front onwards. My shoulders, my head and one arm went straight down into its throat. I could feel the teeth crunching up and down on my weight vest," he said.

Nerhus said he was collecting abalone when the shark struck, knocking the regulator, which supplies oxygen, from his mouth and leaving him inside the shark's open jaws and throat.

"I put my left arm down the side of its face because my head and shoulders and right arm were right down in its throat. Half my body was in its mouth," Nerhus said.

"I felt down to the eye socket with my stiff fingers. I poked my fingers into the eye socket, which the shark reacted to in a way that it opened its mouth a bit, and I just tried to wriggle out."

As he pulled his head from the shark's mouth, it crushed his goggles against his face, leaving Nerhus with a broken nose.

He estimated he was in the shark's grip for up to two minutes. Once free, he grabbed his regulator for air and began to surface slowly, worried the shark circling him would attack again.

"It was just circling around my flippers, around and around in tight circles," he said. "As I was coming up out of the water, it was coming up under my legs."

Nerhus was pulled from the water by his son and other divers in their fishing boat before being flown to hospital, where he was treated for lacerations around his body and his broken nose.

The diver said he was lucky to survive, but he was determined not to die in the jaws of a shark.

"I couldn't think of a worse way to go than to end up as fish food. That's why I fought back. I was determined I didn't want to go like that. I like life too much," he said.

"I'm so fortunate that my survival instincts and reflexes took over."

Copyright 2007 Reuters. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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