it seems that i cannot stop myself from writing. for the past 3 hours, i have been filling up the pages of my journal. i wish this writing were going towards sometinhg useful, like my book. instead, i'm just going on tirades against the contagious stupidity foating all around me.
my mother is tearing me down, one insult at a time. i can't see how she can constantly be speaking the way she does, and still believe that she has any semblance of intellegence in her body. we fight about everything. she thinks that i am a fuck up because i don't want to be what she thinks i should. it's always the same old song
everywhere i go. i get stranded, rivaled, i hear words i never heard in the bible...
i am trying to figure out a way to do this sort of benefit show for my schooling. it would entail a lot of design work, and a lot of rich people wanting to send an ambitious girl off to college. the thing is, i have to front the initial cost. and of course, there's always the possibility of it just failing miserably.
that's the spirit!
i really want to prove to people (aka my mother) that i'm not a fuck up. by no means am i a fuck up. it's just hard to keep your head up when people are pressuring you from all sides to become the successful corporate drone they all want you to be.
fuck that. i want to be a writer. i want to slap people in the mouth with my words. is that wanting too much? of course not! the thing about writing is that noone respects a writer. they think we're all lazy sons of bitches who will do anything to get out of having a real job. i think it's quite contrary to what we're really about.
being a writer consumes your entire being. you eat, sleep and breathe words at an alarming rate. people who do not suffer from this infliction cannot possibly understand. when your mind is constantly in motion (no matter how trivial that motion may seem to someone on the outside), it takes a toll on you. a lot of writers may not be considered as friendly or warm as you might like. can people not consider that any spared emotion must go into the work? even one ounce of misdirected passon can compromise a writer's entire goal. you fall in love with ideals and characters and setting and climax and all the parts that make a story. your life is that story for as long as you are writing it.
jesus, i just made all that a lot clearer to myself. you are what you do. if you are a writer, then it's not uncommon to get carried away in the job. i just looked at my statistics on this site: i have written nearly twentyfivethousand words in this blog over the past 2 years. that's not even writing daily... not even weekly. i think it's safe to assume that i am cut out for this. i don't have any other practical skills. (none that satisfy me as thoroughly, anyhow)
jesus. i really get going, don't i? salinger would be rightly dissapointed.
Wednesday
Sunday
feeling incredibly prolific, i decided to continue my regularly scheduled tirade here.
(sorry chaps)
things are definitely in limbo. for the first time in my young life, everything could go wrong (and it just might.) this is the most estranged i have ever felt in my entire life. every time i try to explain my intentions to the many questioners, it all comes out in a jumble and smacks down in a nasty pile on the ground, spilling it's ineffectiveness all over my tennis shoes.
more wasted effort.
i keep finding myself a disappointment to everyone. there are all these unspoken expectations that people have (they assume i will succeed), and the pressure i am trying to slough off. i am not doing anything because i need a break. yes, i need a break from all of the assumptions.
there are so many things i would love to do, but there isn't anyone out there who i feel knows me well enough to do them with me (with the occasional exception, and i think it's unfair to name names in this case). everyone is so busy being melodramatic (i know, this is really melodramatic, but the internet is the only way you can get people to listen to you without interruption).
i looked out the window to see the moon, and the man in the apartment across the street was staring in at me. i feel slightly startled. i'm sure he was equally surprised to see such a young, curious face staring his way too. what an experience. maybe he'd make a good friend.
(sorry chaps)
things are definitely in limbo. for the first time in my young life, everything could go wrong (and it just might.) this is the most estranged i have ever felt in my entire life. every time i try to explain my intentions to the many questioners, it all comes out in a jumble and smacks down in a nasty pile on the ground, spilling it's ineffectiveness all over my tennis shoes.
more wasted effort.
i keep finding myself a disappointment to everyone. there are all these unspoken expectations that people have (they assume i will succeed), and the pressure i am trying to slough off. i am not doing anything because i need a break. yes, i need a break from all of the assumptions.
there are so many things i would love to do, but there isn't anyone out there who i feel knows me well enough to do them with me (with the occasional exception, and i think it's unfair to name names in this case). everyone is so busy being melodramatic (i know, this is really melodramatic, but the internet is the only way you can get people to listen to you without interruption).
i looked out the window to see the moon, and the man in the apartment across the street was staring in at me. i feel slightly startled. i'm sure he was equally surprised to see such a young, curious face staring his way too. what an experience. maybe he'd make a good friend.
Monday
college
I did this thing everyone's been doing lately called college. It isn't so much a one-time thing, since it can last for years for some people. In my case, I think that college is only going to last a semester.
In college, I have found myself surrounded by new and exciting individuals caught in the flow of expectations. Even if they are already great people, they are strong pressed to conform to the societal standard of what “is,” whatever that means.
College is like a swimming pool full of rubber ducks and inflatable pool toys. It's not a place to do your own thing, but rather a place where all the pool toys conglomerate and pretend to be things that they aren't. Rather than just coming off as pool toys, they want to be categorized into groups, like beach ball, inflatable alligator, or those rings with animals attatched to the front. The fact of the matter is, no matter how you stretch it, they're still pool toys.
I've found myself pushed in this group called the honors program. I thought it would be a challenging program dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge on an in-depth, personal basis. In actuality, we are the same as the other students on campus, and in most cases, lack the ambition of much of the student body due to our self-absorbed natures and pretentions, things all risked for the pursuit of a degree with a few extra words. Cum laude, right?
I don't know if college is for everyone longterm, but I think it should definitely be tried. That's why it's a cultural event: people come here to gain experience that is crutial to their integration in the real world. Fresh out of high school, we come at the world with wide eyes and big hopes. After only a few weeks of the tedium that will be most of my classmates longterm reality, that initiative dissappears under thick blankets of snow and layers of winter clothing.
The clutter and bustling, trivial fights and limited resources are a microcosm of the reality that has been evading up thus far in our young lives. As skewed as they may seem, the consequences of this experience are shaping our identities, and very much determining our futures. That isn't to say people who don't go to college are not living in reality. They are simlpy taking the road less traveled to the same destination.
College is a place people go to make stupid mistakes and then, after it's all said and done, they tend to forever dwell in the nostalgia of the carpe diem happiness they experienced. I think I'd like to take that attitude with me when I leave here, but rather than just think about it, I'd like apply it to every waking moment of the life I'll live.
In college, I have found myself surrounded by new and exciting individuals caught in the flow of expectations. Even if they are already great people, they are strong pressed to conform to the societal standard of what “is,” whatever that means.
College is like a swimming pool full of rubber ducks and inflatable pool toys. It's not a place to do your own thing, but rather a place where all the pool toys conglomerate and pretend to be things that they aren't. Rather than just coming off as pool toys, they want to be categorized into groups, like beach ball, inflatable alligator, or those rings with animals attatched to the front. The fact of the matter is, no matter how you stretch it, they're still pool toys.
I've found myself pushed in this group called the honors program. I thought it would be a challenging program dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge on an in-depth, personal basis. In actuality, we are the same as the other students on campus, and in most cases, lack the ambition of much of the student body due to our self-absorbed natures and pretentions, things all risked for the pursuit of a degree with a few extra words. Cum laude, right?
I don't know if college is for everyone longterm, but I think it should definitely be tried. That's why it's a cultural event: people come here to gain experience that is crutial to their integration in the real world. Fresh out of high school, we come at the world with wide eyes and big hopes. After only a few weeks of the tedium that will be most of my classmates longterm reality, that initiative dissappears under thick blankets of snow and layers of winter clothing.
The clutter and bustling, trivial fights and limited resources are a microcosm of the reality that has been evading up thus far in our young lives. As skewed as they may seem, the consequences of this experience are shaping our identities, and very much determining our futures. That isn't to say people who don't go to college are not living in reality. They are simlpy taking the road less traveled to the same destination.
College is a place people go to make stupid mistakes and then, after it's all said and done, they tend to forever dwell in the nostalgia of the carpe diem happiness they experienced. I think I'd like to take that attitude with me when I leave here, but rather than just think about it, I'd like apply it to every waking moment of the life I'll live.
Tuesday
a bird in the spring grass
sometimes i teach myself strange lessons. spent last night fighting and crying for no apparent reason, and finally gave up and went to bed. after all the struggle, it was so easy to let it go. like i was done. the sensations flowed. i am learning how not to have regrets. instead, i will take life by the experiences, each as they come. i am not going to let anger control me, because anger is not productive, and life is a busy place. so i guess the only thing that i regret is anger, but i'm learning to let than anger melt into something a bit more manageable... even if that manageable thing happens to be sorrow.
i had a strange dream last night. i was at a party full of strange people, the walking dead. they were all naked, and had wounds in specific areas of their bodies, namely across their throats and down their spines. they were able to bend reality, and to move throughout dimensions. they wanted me to join them, but i was afraid because in order to be like them , i would have to let someone drag a knife across the bare flesh of my body like thiers. i was to scared of the cut, even though i knew what it would bring.
there are so many things in life to see, and much more to learn.
i had a strange dream last night. i was at a party full of strange people, the walking dead. they were all naked, and had wounds in specific areas of their bodies, namely across their throats and down their spines. they were able to bend reality, and to move throughout dimensions. they wanted me to join them, but i was afraid because in order to be like them , i would have to let someone drag a knife across the bare flesh of my body like thiers. i was to scared of the cut, even though i knew what it would bring.
there are so many things in life to see, and much more to learn.
Monday
love on mondays, bleed on tuesdays
mornings after sleeping in unmade beds
surreal feeling
heart exploding in chest
and searing pain of anticipation.
(my own mind is making me its prisoner.)
what am i accomplishing?
volumes of thought
transcribed in the pages of my mind.
(i have no concept of time)
surely, there must be a coming together of sorts
surreal feeling
heart exploding in chest
and searing pain of anticipation.
(my own mind is making me its prisoner.)
what am i accomplishing?
volumes of thought
transcribed in the pages of my mind.
(i have no concept of time)
surely, there must be a coming together of sorts
Thursday
an evening at carey hall
untitled performance piece
it's nice to watch the shadows
throw themselves across the room
wrapping objects in obscure values of grey.
everything is relatively peaceful in this rare night silence
darkness protrudes obtusely along the floor.
it's time to play with language
to wrap its contents lovingly around your teeth
and taste them like a rich chocolate.
what better days are there than these?
(the halcyon and indifferent days are the ones i like best,
when i am freeto use them as i see fit)
i am thinking miles of thoughts.
rapidly
dreaming no more of the beats,
now actually chanelling them through my spirit.
is there a chance for a literary beat revival?
have i got the passion
(let alone the means of talent)
to fill such a large pair
of verbal shoes?
who knows.
kicks joy darkness and all that hallelujah.
nights of singing about history and
s u d d e n l y
you catch a current
and your mind
BLOWS
faster than you had any idea it could.
(you were under the impression
that your mind was still on training wheels,
and that it wasn't quite ready
to get out and see the world on it's own)
argentina said he would take me to peru
but not sam, because she was just too white:
does that mean he knows
I'VE GOT BURNING IN MY SOUL THAT CAN'T BE SATISFIED?
it's true:
i may be mad, but baby,
i've got a whole lot more than that
it's nice to watch the shadows
throw themselves across the room
wrapping objects in obscure values of grey.
everything is relatively peaceful in this rare night silence
darkness protrudes obtusely along the floor.
it's time to play with language
to wrap its contents lovingly around your teeth
and taste them like a rich chocolate.
what better days are there than these?
(the halcyon and indifferent days are the ones i like best,
when i am freeto use them as i see fit)
i am thinking miles of thoughts.
rapidly
dreaming no more of the beats,
now actually chanelling them through my spirit.
is there a chance for a literary beat revival?
have i got the passion
(let alone the means of talent)
to fill such a large pair
of verbal shoes?
who knows.
kicks joy darkness and all that hallelujah.
nights of singing about history and
s u d d e n l y
you catch a current
and your mind
BLOWS
faster than you had any idea it could.
(you were under the impression
that your mind was still on training wheels,
and that it wasn't quite ready
to get out and see the world on it's own)
argentina said he would take me to peru
but not sam, because she was just too white:
does that mean he knows
I'VE GOT BURNING IN MY SOUL THAT CAN'T BE SATISFIED?
it's true:
i may be mad, but baby,
i've got a whole lot more than that
Monday
Friday
Congratulations! You're the famous Pete Wrigley,
the boy who is unknowningly the King of
Suburbia! Don't give up. Life is great..or life
might be great...someday.
What Character from The Adventures of PETE & PETE are you? (pictures!)
Wednesday
Friday
Sunday
tiny circles in the dust
tiny circles in the dust
people can be so curious sometimes. for the most part, their lives are circular; revloving around a central theme, always returning to the same initial place. it can't really be helped, i suppose. i guess it't just as well.
i am hoping my life will some day cease to resemble that oh-so-regular circle and perhaps digress from the prescribed path. some day. i would like to own my own little studio and take photographs of strangers in passionate moments.
of course, i am not the first individual who have had this wish (there is no world shortage of photographers), i would just like to know what it would be like to capture a moment for all to see. there's just something about bodies frozen in perfect motion. pictures are honest. there is nothing that can be hiden in a photograph. it is not pretentious nor does it need to be interpreted by some haughty art collector. a photo lays all the cards out on the table and just is. why can't people be like that?
who am i to say that they aren't? surely i, too, am just another cirlce being traced into the dust. eventually, i'll be gone and forgotten, so i'm not any better than anybody else on the whole damned planet.
there is, however, one particular individual who seems to know exactly what to do. he's one of those people who isn't just going to settle for a circle. no sir, he's making himself a little sphere, well-rounded and three-dimensional. some day, hils little sphere is going to take off and float up into the sky, right where everyone can see it.
the funny thing about him is that i'm not certian if he's quite aware of what is happening to him. how, then, could i know? truth be told, it's much easier to see the big picture when you aren't painting the damned thing.
it also happens that i have loved this man. that being the case, it would be easy to assume that i have a slightly biased opinion, but i am certian that anyone who knows him would say the same thing, that he's exceptionally bright.
now, when i say he's bright, i don't mean your run-of-the-mill scholar. rather, i should have said that he is wise. he's seen a lot of things and i'm sure he takes all of it in. he only speaks when he's got something to say, rather than trying to fill the silence with the sound of his own voice. people like that are truly rare in times like these.
this fellow is also sensitive and sincere. whenever i look into his eyes, i see hurt and wonder and innocence all at once. his eyes are a shade of calm that could burst with sorrow at any moment...funny how the very wise seem also to be very sad.
not only are those eyes insightful, they are an integral part of his handsome face and physical appeal. i've watched him grow from an awkward boy into a handsome man. still, that man's soul is as beautiful as when he was a wistful boy dreaming that he, too, would have someone to love and a purpose to serve.
though he may still be searching, i have no doubt that some day those hidden gifts will surface for all to see. that uncanny grace will lead him and his little sphere of integrity will shine as bright as the moon. all that will come in due time, i suppose. life's funny that way.
we regular people look on, taking note of those rare individuals who will leave a trail of greatness behind for then next gifted soul, until it comes time for that one to shine. it's all a big circle really. not everyone can be spectacular, but it's always reassuring to know that somewhere out there, a balloon is being loosed into the sky, and it will tumble upward to the heavens, maybe even putting in a good word for the rest of us who are just drawing tiny circles in the dust.
people can be so curious sometimes. for the most part, their lives are circular; revloving around a central theme, always returning to the same initial place. it can't really be helped, i suppose. i guess it't just as well.
i am hoping my life will some day cease to resemble that oh-so-regular circle and perhaps digress from the prescribed path. some day. i would like to own my own little studio and take photographs of strangers in passionate moments.
of course, i am not the first individual who have had this wish (there is no world shortage of photographers), i would just like to know what it would be like to capture a moment for all to see. there's just something about bodies frozen in perfect motion. pictures are honest. there is nothing that can be hiden in a photograph. it is not pretentious nor does it need to be interpreted by some haughty art collector. a photo lays all the cards out on the table and just is. why can't people be like that?
who am i to say that they aren't? surely i, too, am just another cirlce being traced into the dust. eventually, i'll be gone and forgotten, so i'm not any better than anybody else on the whole damned planet.
there is, however, one particular individual who seems to know exactly what to do. he's one of those people who isn't just going to settle for a circle. no sir, he's making himself a little sphere, well-rounded and three-dimensional. some day, hils little sphere is going to take off and float up into the sky, right where everyone can see it.
the funny thing about him is that i'm not certian if he's quite aware of what is happening to him. how, then, could i know? truth be told, it's much easier to see the big picture when you aren't painting the damned thing.
it also happens that i have loved this man. that being the case, it would be easy to assume that i have a slightly biased opinion, but i am certian that anyone who knows him would say the same thing, that he's exceptionally bright.
now, when i say he's bright, i don't mean your run-of-the-mill scholar. rather, i should have said that he is wise. he's seen a lot of things and i'm sure he takes all of it in. he only speaks when he's got something to say, rather than trying to fill the silence with the sound of his own voice. people like that are truly rare in times like these.
this fellow is also sensitive and sincere. whenever i look into his eyes, i see hurt and wonder and innocence all at once. his eyes are a shade of calm that could burst with sorrow at any moment...funny how the very wise seem also to be very sad.
not only are those eyes insightful, they are an integral part of his handsome face and physical appeal. i've watched him grow from an awkward boy into a handsome man. still, that man's soul is as beautiful as when he was a wistful boy dreaming that he, too, would have someone to love and a purpose to serve.
though he may still be searching, i have no doubt that some day those hidden gifts will surface for all to see. that uncanny grace will lead him and his little sphere of integrity will shine as bright as the moon. all that will come in due time, i suppose. life's funny that way.
we regular people look on, taking note of those rare individuals who will leave a trail of greatness behind for then next gifted soul, until it comes time for that one to shine. it's all a big circle really. not everyone can be spectacular, but it's always reassuring to know that somewhere out there, a balloon is being loosed into the sky, and it will tumble upward to the heavens, maybe even putting in a good word for the rest of us who are just drawing tiny circles in the dust.
Saturday
for some reason, after riding a bike with a flat tire, i was thrown violently back into the world. for a fleeting while, my life will not specifically revolve around me. i am inspired to create and to see and touch everything as if for the first time. i owe jeff a letter. i should get on that immediately. also on scholarships for my new school, which is very exciting. and of course, i am excited with the prospect of school, but there are other factors to consider.
( love is turning my world inside out, there isn't anything i wouldn't do, including drive 3 hours to see you for half an hour )
the funny thing is, i always thought it would be more intense when it actually hit me, but this one sort of snuck up on me. i don't know, i love it. i love him. everything is so different.
i would, in fact, recommend love.
( love is turning my world inside out, there isn't anything i wouldn't do, including drive 3 hours to see you for half an hour )
the funny thing is, i always thought it would be more intense when it actually hit me, but this one sort of snuck up on me. i don't know, i love it. i love him. everything is so different.
i would, in fact, recommend love.
Thursday
Tuesday
everything is poetic i am waitin and my lines are blurring together i cannot get it together to pull it in and make sense of the whole thing that is my life i am in love for the first time to a boy who has a soul i can feel when he isn't even there.
and of course all i want to do is be in his arms and be free but i cannot even think ofanything else because i cannot get enough of his love like fire or oxygen love you are amazing.
you should all be jealous.
and of course all i want to do is be in his arms and be free but i cannot even think ofanything else because i cannot get enough of his love like fire or oxygen love you are amazing.
you should all be jealous.
Monday
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Golden Slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.
Boy you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time.
Boy you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time.
I never give you my pillow
I only send you my invitations and in the
middle of the celebrations I break down
Boy you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time...
Oh Yeah alright
are you gonna be in my dreams
tonight.
And in the end the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Ah.
- also, i love you very much.
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Golden Slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.
Boy you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time.
Boy you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time.
I never give you my pillow
I only send you my invitations and in the
middle of the celebrations I break down
Boy you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time...
Oh Yeah alright
are you gonna be in my dreams
tonight.
And in the end the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Ah.
- also, i love you very much.
Tuesday
observations:
the fog smells of watermelon
i am writing little zen haiku
walking along in the tall grass
there are many sounds
like the one of the fog rolling in
as slow as molasses
and i am wanting to swallow
thins moment and
dance in the sticky night
it will be time to sleep
outdoors soon
where the air floods our lungs
and we see clearly
because the cold fresh oxygen
(that we are missing)
is the only drug you could ever want
the fog smells of watermelon
i am writing little zen haiku
walking along in the tall grass
there are many sounds
like the one of the fog rolling in
as slow as molasses
and i am wanting to swallow
thins moment and
dance in the sticky night
it will be time to sleep
outdoors soon
where the air floods our lungs
and we see clearly
because the cold fresh oxygen
(that we are missing)
is the only drug you could ever want
Monday
it's all drawing to a close. attitudes are shifting into lighter shades of compassion. we all know that once this is over, it is unlikely we'll ever see one another again. things have grown quiet. hands are pressed gingerly to sides and we pass without words. there are awkward little smiles that we wish we could express what we really mean.
i wonder if we mean anything?
i think this is a way for us to bow out gracefully, instead of like ten thousand firecrackers in the dark of night. granted, the sparks might be beautiful, but i think the way for these years to conclude should be silent and sincere. that's the way it's been, so it's only natural.
i wonder if we mean anything?
i think this is a way for us to bow out gracefully, instead of like ten thousand firecrackers in the dark of night. granted, the sparks might be beautiful, but i think the way for these years to conclude should be silent and sincere. that's the way it's been, so it's only natural.
Tuesday
You're David Bowie...and every guy wants to be you,
every girls wants to be in your pants. Or vice
versa, or both! You are innovative, always
weird, and aesthetically pleasing. Your lyrics
are literate, and your music is unlike any
other. You are always unique, no matter what
situation you are in. Everyone tries to bite
off your style, but no one can be you because
you are funky fresh. Be careful to keep your
mental health in check, because you have a
tendency to flip out. But hey, being borderline
crazy makes you even more alluring! You are
skilled at manipulating everyone: the press,
your fans, and even your closest friends. You
are beautiful and strange, and you allow
yourself to change and grow.
Which rad old school 70's glam icon are you? (with pics)
brought to you by Quizilla
god damn.
Monday
definitely worth keeping. a timeless weekend, as they have become when i am suspended in the folds of blue comprising your bedclothes. the party was a nice experience. [ ever since we saw that movie, "nice" has imprinted itself into my vocabulary. ]
i am finding myself drifting off lately. i promise myself i'll do it later, whatever it is... then i just don't. summer is calling me and in a sense, that means i have no choice but to answer.
i am finding myself drifting off lately. i promise myself i'll do it later, whatever it is... then i just don't. summer is calling me and in a sense, that means i have no choice but to answer.
Thursday
Tuesday
Thursday
Wednesday
there really is something nice about being able to sit down in the early morning with a cup of oj and a crossword puzzle. it's really kind of romantic. (my grandparents would wake up every morning and sit in the kitchen to do their word puzzles. it reminds me of sunny mornings and cartoons and country music. ) i did alright on yesterday's puzzle, and it was the first time i actually really sat down to do one. i think i like it.
in lieu of my inability to sleep last night, i went over to matts house and we sang to each other and giggled. he's good times, one of those people you can really talk to. we really should play more, we're not half bad.
and then, there's you. thinking about you makes my stomach flutter, in that really nice way. it's nice to have something to look forward to. friday, come soon. you were right, because leaving really is harder than waiting. i would stay all day if there weren't those little things, you know. it may not seem like it's that much, but i'm still so happy. thank you, i can't tell you enough.
i've been under strange stresses, and as a result, my physical being is affected. i cannot sleep properly and eating is a chore. since i'm neglecting the two, my mind is also being thrown off. why, oh why am i so off right now?
(my life is a series of intricate crayon sketches)
in lieu of my inability to sleep last night, i went over to matts house and we sang to each other and giggled. he's good times, one of those people you can really talk to. we really should play more, we're not half bad.
and then, there's you. thinking about you makes my stomach flutter, in that really nice way. it's nice to have something to look forward to. friday, come soon. you were right, because leaving really is harder than waiting. i would stay all day if there weren't those little things, you know. it may not seem like it's that much, but i'm still so happy. thank you, i can't tell you enough.
i've been under strange stresses, and as a result, my physical being is affected. i cannot sleep properly and eating is a chore. since i'm neglecting the two, my mind is also being thrown off. why, oh why am i so off right now?
(my life is a series of intricate crayon sketches)
apologies for the sudden bursts of sorrow, i am feeling trapped.
(unfortunately, everyone is either asleep or too far away to be here when i need them)
i feel like i'm going to cry all of the time and don't know how to react to other people's
words. and i don't know how to counter the blows dealt by the invisible forces
unless there are arms supporting me at all times
and
then there's the way it goes between elation and maddness... i am lost
be my light.
(unfortunately, everyone is either asleep or too far away to be here when i need them)
i feel like i'm going to cry all of the time and don't know how to react to other people's
words. and i don't know how to counter the blows dealt by the invisible forces
unless there are arms supporting me at all times
and
then there's the way it goes between elation and maddness... i am lost
be my light.
Tuesday
i am being sucked into a hole of happiness.
why are you so addictive? everybody knows.
i don't like feeling out of control, but in this case, i'll let it go.
i r e a l l y, r e a l l y l i k e y o u.
you make me blush because i never know how to react to your sweetness.
(( as a result, i overcompensate in girlish behavior.))
well, the feelings might sink in over time, but until they fade a little
i'm so terribly excited.
why are you so addictive? everybody knows.
i don't like feeling out of control, but in this case, i'll let it go.
i r e a l l y, r e a l l y l i k e y o u.
you make me blush because i never know how to react to your sweetness.
(( as a result, i overcompensate in girlish behavior.))
well, the feelings might sink in over time, but until they fade a little
i'm so terribly excited.
Sunday
it's easter.
i cannot wait to escape this pessimism. it is no good. if ever i find myself unable to get away, i become intolerable. it makes me unpleasant. it seems like everyone around me is dying to be unhappy right now. they're all bitter and frustrated. for once, i'm actually happy but everyone wants it to fade away. i can't talk to anyone because they don't understand or don't want to hear it.
i just want to be happy.
i haven't spoken to john in a long while. i think he hates me. i can't blame him. in the same breath, i'm not sorry. i didn't feel like he needed me. i told evan what i want to do with my life. i want to dedicate my life to happiness and love someone who is capable of loving as passionately as i do. i haven't found that just jet, am i asking too much?
this analysis isn't really encouraging my spirit. (this is what happens when i think too much)
my fingers still hurt from plaing guitar yesterday. i didn't do much else, because i was waiting for something beautiful to happen. nothing did. i copied my taxes, looked up a map for the trip, and went for coffee. the rest was sort of squandered, overinvested in the internet and the possibility of hearing from dan. he didn't. i caved in and called about 11.45. he was bowling, and i immediately felt guilty.
i am manic right now, but it's ebbing. i'm grasping for things that keep me feeling, but pull back on empty air (for the most part), unless i'm with people i love. then i feel golden. it's bliss. i hate not being able to conjure the happiness whenever i choose. i spend time sulking, wishing i were nonexistent, or near a friend i trust. no dice on either, usually. my happiness is too reliant on external situations. does being happy require numbing one's self to the outside world? i certianly hope not. i am a hedonist, and worship living, but also abhor the idea of my dependence upon the whole wicked lot.) i need someone to really relate to.
listen to that: i need to find someone.... i need to find me, the quiet inside of myself that calms others. it's like they know me better than i know myself. is that how it goes? are these words a journey of self-discovery? i sometimes fear i am becoming more like my father; internally bitter and false on the exterior. i don't want to be mad.
i cannot wait to escape this pessimism. it is no good. if ever i find myself unable to get away, i become intolerable. it makes me unpleasant. it seems like everyone around me is dying to be unhappy right now. they're all bitter and frustrated. for once, i'm actually happy but everyone wants it to fade away. i can't talk to anyone because they don't understand or don't want to hear it.
i just want to be happy.
i haven't spoken to john in a long while. i think he hates me. i can't blame him. in the same breath, i'm not sorry. i didn't feel like he needed me. i told evan what i want to do with my life. i want to dedicate my life to happiness and love someone who is capable of loving as passionately as i do. i haven't found that just jet, am i asking too much?
this analysis isn't really encouraging my spirit. (this is what happens when i think too much)
my fingers still hurt from plaing guitar yesterday. i didn't do much else, because i was waiting for something beautiful to happen. nothing did. i copied my taxes, looked up a map for the trip, and went for coffee. the rest was sort of squandered, overinvested in the internet and the possibility of hearing from dan. he didn't. i caved in and called about 11.45. he was bowling, and i immediately felt guilty.
i am manic right now, but it's ebbing. i'm grasping for things that keep me feeling, but pull back on empty air (for the most part), unless i'm with people i love. then i feel golden. it's bliss. i hate not being able to conjure the happiness whenever i choose. i spend time sulking, wishing i were nonexistent, or near a friend i trust. no dice on either, usually. my happiness is too reliant on external situations. does being happy require numbing one's self to the outside world? i certianly hope not. i am a hedonist, and worship living, but also abhor the idea of my dependence upon the whole wicked lot.) i need someone to really relate to.
listen to that: i need to find someone.... i need to find me, the quiet inside of myself that calms others. it's like they know me better than i know myself. is that how it goes? are these words a journey of self-discovery? i sometimes fear i am becoming more like my father; internally bitter and false on the exterior. i don't want to be mad.
i am:
reading interview magazine
telling myself to stop wearing so much black
and start dreaming more
also
thinking
[i should start doing more random acts of kindness]
finish the story already
relax
that getting post cards is fun
and everything will work out for the best
in the end
or is optimism killing me?
reading interview magazine
telling myself to stop wearing so much black
and start dreaming more
also
thinking
[i should start doing more random acts of kindness]
finish the story already
relax
that getting post cards is fun
and everything will work out for the best
in the end
or is optimism killing me?
Tuesday
tired of tired.
i can't concentrate on anything. my whole life is going on without me and i just want to step back and let myself go. that's how i feel at the moment. life is moving on it's trajectory and i am waiting in some type of cosmic supermarket checkout behind an elderly woman who insists on paying in pennies.
i keep making little lists. writing more in general: electronic and paper form, also correspondence. i have received two of the 23 letters i have sent out back as undeliverable. i hope i didn't waste my time, and that some of the letters get to their destinations.
it seems that a lot of people have the potential to be angels. they might be. i feel like i'm in outer space again. everything is surreal. sounds are ringing out, vibrating through the air. i ought to play music.
we slept hand in hand and cheek to cheek. i held his face in my hands, he held me tightly. the night rolled on, and we rolled with laughter. his eyes were like tiny butterflies, then i kissed them. grinned. (wrinkles at twenty, he said. i think they add to his charm and innocence.) left the bed, much to my dismay, at four.
evan and i went to the lake and spoke about jack kerouac and life in general. we talked about our plans. he laughed at me for falling... sweet boy.we both want to take pictures and be forest rangers and travel to mexico like jack kerouac. i told him we should meet in mexico. i wonder if he's willing. i am more than willing. (please don't die.)
i am once again coming back to the wonder of physical sensations. when i am tired, sensations are amplified and glorious. hands pressing against walls and curls and skin and things all around. i am a stranger, aren't i?
either way, i think i'm happy.
i keep making little lists. writing more in general: electronic and paper form, also correspondence. i have received two of the 23 letters i have sent out back as undeliverable. i hope i didn't waste my time, and that some of the letters get to their destinations.
it seems that a lot of people have the potential to be angels. they might be. i feel like i'm in outer space again. everything is surreal. sounds are ringing out, vibrating through the air. i ought to play music.
we slept hand in hand and cheek to cheek. i held his face in my hands, he held me tightly. the night rolled on, and we rolled with laughter. his eyes were like tiny butterflies, then i kissed them. grinned. (wrinkles at twenty, he said. i think they add to his charm and innocence.) left the bed, much to my dismay, at four.
evan and i went to the lake and spoke about jack kerouac and life in general. we talked about our plans. he laughed at me for falling... sweet boy.we both want to take pictures and be forest rangers and travel to mexico like jack kerouac. i told him we should meet in mexico. i wonder if he's willing. i am more than willing. (please don't die.)
i am once again coming back to the wonder of physical sensations. when i am tired, sensations are amplified and glorious. hands pressing against walls and curls and skin and things all around. i am a stranger, aren't i?
either way, i think i'm happy.
Monday
beautiful girl, lovely dress
high school smile, oh yes
beautiful girl, lovely dress
where she is now i can only guess
'cause it's gone daddy gone
the love is gone
the love is gone away
-gone daddy, gone by the violent femmes
so this is how it feels.
(she's really done it this time, gone and thrown all her things onto the floor)
yes. this is going to hurt, more than we intended.
focus. smile, dammit.
high school smile, oh yes
beautiful girl, lovely dress
where she is now i can only guess
'cause it's gone daddy gone
the love is gone
the love is gone away
-gone daddy, gone by the violent femmes
so this is how it feels.
(she's really done it this time, gone and thrown all her things onto the floor)
yes. this is going to hurt, more than we intended.
focus. smile, dammit.
Sunday
we know where the salad dressing came from...
oh sarah. birthday twins are especially special.
school tomorrow. i don't have to take trig. i have three art classes. and gym.
(i don't know if i can handle it. sounds tough)
the house is quiet tonight. john stopped by, and that was awkward.
i hate it when i feel uncomfortable in my own skin.
i am making a memory book out of an old book. it's super fly. i am totally gifted.
(in a special way)
but, as i was saying: no worries sarah. tomorrow will be an adventure.
oh sarah. birthday twins are especially special.
school tomorrow. i don't have to take trig. i have three art classes. and gym.
(i don't know if i can handle it. sounds tough)
the house is quiet tonight. john stopped by, and that was awkward.
i hate it when i feel uncomfortable in my own skin.
i am making a memory book out of an old book. it's super fly. i am totally gifted.
(in a special way)
but, as i was saying: no worries sarah. tomorrow will be an adventure.
Friday
Monday
punch you in the face with my lips...
it's a soul type of day. jazz carrying over to the other aspects of the day.
(mother rounded out the day by shouting first and last thing)
celebrated last night. celebrated in my dreams while the sleep washed over me, dictated my consciousness for a long while. maybe i said something i didn't mean? maybe he meant something he didn't say... faces are set and glazed in chocolate sweetness.
(broken lines)
i remember his monochromatic-emotion grey, and something radiating from his eyes. of course, there was the desire for velvet kisses.
missing in action/action missing in action
skin smelling clean and delicious, i remember this foever, i also remember how we decided we were better than everyone else we'd ever encountered.
i think i've fallen out of love... sometimes, you do that and it surprises all parties involved. (how can he carry my mind away so? how is it that i can become so involved in this litle game? is there really any substance to it?)
move on, girl. please move on.
piano rhythm diversion assaulting the geography of passion. also, there is maddness. hips to love by, to hold and guide between fingers. tousseled hair, empirical miles. six thousand happinesses. secret happinesses, are they real? can we wrap our silences around them and project them from our hearts?
the rainbow of your september happinesses, is that all there is? perhaps. thinking again of the graduate. the sensations are again breezing along. the words we speak in scentless corridors wait to be launched forward. the witty poetic exchanges transforming hearts and souls remind me of the way you can make my esophagus a veritable playground.
i am becoming a domestic little thing.
we talked about "an ode to a grecian urn," and it's true, then. that frozen moment of agony is hell. pure torture, and again we are left holding the beats of our hearts in our throats.
eyelashes are still highly significant.
harmonies remind me of the taste of summer. our bare toes dipped into the crystalline blue of the water and only we knew what was happening. i loved you more than anything else at that particular moment. my love is unfaithful and it is fleesting to and fro. i have loved the grass and the feathers and the sound of high heels clacking, smacking along concrete. i have loved countless individuals and their intimate gestures, their frailty and exposure.
tiny explosions of love.
you make me happy. ginger revives the lovely sensation of our radiant kisses. (sometimes i wish i were kissing always) nights of love and laughter... there isn't anything else, is there?
it's a soul type of day. jazz carrying over to the other aspects of the day.
(mother rounded out the day by shouting first and last thing)
celebrated last night. celebrated in my dreams while the sleep washed over me, dictated my consciousness for a long while. maybe i said something i didn't mean? maybe he meant something he didn't say... faces are set and glazed in chocolate sweetness.
(broken lines)
i remember his monochromatic-emotion grey, and something radiating from his eyes. of course, there was the desire for velvet kisses.
missing in action/action missing in action
skin smelling clean and delicious, i remember this foever, i also remember how we decided we were better than everyone else we'd ever encountered.
i think i've fallen out of love... sometimes, you do that and it surprises all parties involved. (how can he carry my mind away so? how is it that i can become so involved in this litle game? is there really any substance to it?)
move on, girl. please move on.
piano rhythm diversion assaulting the geography of passion. also, there is maddness. hips to love by, to hold and guide between fingers. tousseled hair, empirical miles. six thousand happinesses. secret happinesses, are they real? can we wrap our silences around them and project them from our hearts?
the rainbow of your september happinesses, is that all there is? perhaps. thinking again of the graduate. the sensations are again breezing along. the words we speak in scentless corridors wait to be launched forward. the witty poetic exchanges transforming hearts and souls remind me of the way you can make my esophagus a veritable playground.
i am becoming a domestic little thing.
we talked about "an ode to a grecian urn," and it's true, then. that frozen moment of agony is hell. pure torture, and again we are left holding the beats of our hearts in our throats.
eyelashes are still highly significant.
harmonies remind me of the taste of summer. our bare toes dipped into the crystalline blue of the water and only we knew what was happening. i loved you more than anything else at that particular moment. my love is unfaithful and it is fleesting to and fro. i have loved the grass and the feathers and the sound of high heels clacking, smacking along concrete. i have loved countless individuals and their intimate gestures, their frailty and exposure.
tiny explosions of love.
you make me happy. ginger revives the lovely sensation of our radiant kisses. (sometimes i wish i were kissing always) nights of love and laughter... there isn't anything else, is there?
Thursday
man alive! i got into northern michigan university, and i am proud to announce i will be entering in as a photography major!
i went home today to make a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch and as I sorted through the mail, the envelope stuck out. I opened it, and it said "congratulations!" it was nice.
now my mom is really happy that i will go to college, so happy in fact, that she cried. i guess i'm happy too because now the pressure is off, and i can sort of enjoy the rest of this year.
(not to say that i haven't been enjoying it for a little while, at least... it hasn't been all bad. i've fallen out of that funk of depression, into some other sort of funk where i'm only happy not to be unhappy, so i guess the cosmic function has worked itself out in the end.)
yesterday was also a lot of fun. molly's mom made us a big irish meal and then we all watched waking ned devine. i must confess, i've never celebrated st. patrick's day before, but i'm a fan. next time, we're kidnapping molly and taking her out for a night on the town. (come to think of it, i should take mallory and molly out to buca's, on me.)
also, the new ice cream is available for ordering. (not of course, that any of you who actually read this live within a close proximityof my house/ have any money, but why the hell not, right?) they will be made fresh after an order is placed, so look forward to that. the ice cream will be sold in chinese takeout pints, and will be priced between 3 and 5 dollars, but don't quote me on that yet.
pardon me, i think i shall go jump for joy.
i went home today to make a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch and as I sorted through the mail, the envelope stuck out. I opened it, and it said "congratulations!" it was nice.
now my mom is really happy that i will go to college, so happy in fact, that she cried. i guess i'm happy too because now the pressure is off, and i can sort of enjoy the rest of this year.
(not to say that i haven't been enjoying it for a little while, at least... it hasn't been all bad. i've fallen out of that funk of depression, into some other sort of funk where i'm only happy not to be unhappy, so i guess the cosmic function has worked itself out in the end.)
yesterday was also a lot of fun. molly's mom made us a big irish meal and then we all watched waking ned devine. i must confess, i've never celebrated st. patrick's day before, but i'm a fan. next time, we're kidnapping molly and taking her out for a night on the town. (come to think of it, i should take mallory and molly out to buca's, on me.)
also, the new ice cream is available for ordering. (not of course, that any of you who actually read this live within a close proximityof my house/ have any money, but why the hell not, right?) they will be made fresh after an order is placed, so look forward to that. the ice cream will be sold in chinese takeout pints, and will be priced between 3 and 5 dollars, but don't quote me on that yet.
pardon me, i think i shall go jump for joy.
Wednesday
Saturday
[let's get over each other so we can fall in love again]
this is a weekend that shall live forever in infamy. mallory, molly and i are taking the ice cream selling world by storm.
you win, mallory. you have stolen my heart...
///she said to me last night that she felt like a corrupt santa, jug of wine concealed casually in tiny knapsack///
driving in the car down dark country roads singing at the tops of our lungs for the sake of happiness. we went on a quest for crackers.
this is a weekend that shall live forever in infamy. mallory, molly and i are taking the ice cream selling world by storm.
you win, mallory. you have stolen my heart...
///she said to me last night that she felt like a corrupt santa, jug of wine concealed casually in tiny knapsack///
driving in the car down dark country roads singing at the tops of our lungs for the sake of happiness. we went on a quest for crackers.
Tuesday
How indie are you? test by ridethefader
You're really enthusiastic about the music that you like. You attempt to discover your new favourite
band every week. You continually try to get your friends into the music you like, which annoys the fuck
out of them, but you don't know it. At least you're not arrogant about it.
Sunday
haven't you noticed it's awkward?
i miss you.
i love him. not you. or you.
sometimes, i want to be just like everyone else with their pretend perfect lives and skeletons miles wide in closets full of designer clothes worn only once (for a few hours at a time) and then forgotten.
i want my electronic alter-ego and my outstanding looks to take me everywhere i could ever want to be.
is that a contradiction? oh well.
the point is i am alien to my comfort zone. i am comfortless, this is not taking it to an extreme.
this is an honest truth.
i feel like people only want me around when it is convenient in a practical sense, i.e. when they need something done that they are unable to do themselves.
this is my constant dichotomy of love and hate.
(i hide the other part away for those who i feel attempt to actually be honest... )
who knew that such a trait would ever be so hard to come by?
i may not be as thin or beautiful as the others, but i cannot help that.
i may say things that seem rude, but i am only trying to be honest,
satiate my own conscious.
someone, please tell me if i'm wrong?
this is what my logic has been reduced to.
stop.
i miss you.
i love him. not you. or you.
sometimes, i want to be just like everyone else with their pretend perfect lives and skeletons miles wide in closets full of designer clothes worn only once (for a few hours at a time) and then forgotten.
i want my electronic alter-ego and my outstanding looks to take me everywhere i could ever want to be.
is that a contradiction? oh well.
the point is i am alien to my comfort zone. i am comfortless, this is not taking it to an extreme.
this is an honest truth.
i feel like people only want me around when it is convenient in a practical sense, i.e. when they need something done that they are unable to do themselves.
this is my constant dichotomy of love and hate.
(i hide the other part away for those who i feel attempt to actually be honest... )
who knew that such a trait would ever be so hard to come by?
i may not be as thin or beautiful as the others, but i cannot help that.
i may say things that seem rude, but i am only trying to be honest,
satiate my own conscious.
someone, please tell me if i'm wrong?
this is what my logic has been reduced to.
stop.
Saturday
Tuesday
the sun shines and leaves blow and my hope like autumn is turning brown. but i know it seems like i'm always falling down. but it does not matter to me, although it seems like it should. it's because i know i'm understood when i hear him say "rest in me little daivd and dry all your tears. you can lay down your armor and have no fear, cause i'm always here when you're tired of running. i'm all the strength that you'll need." it's up hill both ways, tomorrow i swear i won't act this way. but i know it seems like that is what i always say. but it does not matter to me, although it seems like it should. it's because i know i'm understood when i hear him say "rest in me little david and dry all your tears. you can lay down your armor and have no fear, cause i'm always here when you're tired of running. i'm all the strenght that you need." you know i want to be like jesus, but it seems so very far away when will i learn to obey, obey?
pedro the lion
last night i stayed up incredibly late and addressed letters to 23 complete strangers. also, i spoke to drew, who is the single most adorable thing that can happen to a girl when she's half asleep. i sent him a secret package, hope he likes it.
friday is cranium day in homegroup. i am so excited, and i can't figure out why. i only wish i were the proud owner of apples to apples. (dixie and norah and i should have a drunken go at it. wouldn't that be the most?) sigh. school dragged itself along today, work and tutoring followed suite. but now i'm home.
the bosses at work today promised to write me letters of defense against the admission nazis at marquette. i'm going to get into that school god damn it!
positive thought: alex sent me a copy of his first edition. it's lovely. i love zines. they get me right here (<3) yep. somebody else gets me right there too, but nobody knows but me. tee hee, crushes are so sweet, even though i know there is no way in hell that it would ever come to be. still, it's fun to imagine, right?
on another note, i have been having recurring sensations known as feelings. they are truly amazing. i feel like i don't have anyone to share them with though, and that's becoming a complication in and of itself. to let someone in on something like that, you have to trust them with all of your heart and soul.
is trust a feeling or a thought?
sigh. damn it. responsibility is killing me.
die responsibility, die.
pedro the lion
last night i stayed up incredibly late and addressed letters to 23 complete strangers. also, i spoke to drew, who is the single most adorable thing that can happen to a girl when she's half asleep. i sent him a secret package, hope he likes it.
friday is cranium day in homegroup. i am so excited, and i can't figure out why. i only wish i were the proud owner of apples to apples. (dixie and norah and i should have a drunken go at it. wouldn't that be the most?) sigh. school dragged itself along today, work and tutoring followed suite. but now i'm home.
the bosses at work today promised to write me letters of defense against the admission nazis at marquette. i'm going to get into that school god damn it!
positive thought: alex sent me a copy of his first edition. it's lovely. i love zines. they get me right here (<3) yep. somebody else gets me right there too, but nobody knows but me. tee hee, crushes are so sweet, even though i know there is no way in hell that it would ever come to be. still, it's fun to imagine, right?
on another note, i have been having recurring sensations known as feelings. they are truly amazing. i feel like i don't have anyone to share them with though, and that's becoming a complication in and of itself. to let someone in on something like that, you have to trust them with all of your heart and soul.
is trust a feeling or a thought?
sigh. damn it. responsibility is killing me.
die responsibility, die.
the shrill whine of the alarm. i am waiting to be snatched into reality. the patterns around me are my time-space location. (my tee shirt has come undone.) bared legs escape and become aloof. this is where my day begins.
an apple. a banana. i drive down the road, wait until the good song ends and abandon the car in the parking lot. i loathe school: the perpetual drone, constant buzzing nothingness.
i feel awkward and completely out of place.
it makes me uncomfortable. (i wait until the day ends)
i llike to look out the window to pass the time...
as soon as i'm free, i catapult to safety. the sky is milky white. sometimes i rush home to fix a meal for myself. i eat looking out the window, imagining the people below are strange animals.
an apple. a banana. i drive down the road, wait until the good song ends and abandon the car in the parking lot. i loathe school: the perpetual drone, constant buzzing nothingness.
i feel awkward and completely out of place.
it makes me uncomfortable. (i wait until the day ends)
i llike to look out the window to pass the time...
as soon as i'm free, i catapult to safety. the sky is milky white. sometimes i rush home to fix a meal for myself. i eat looking out the window, imagining the people below are strange animals.
gee, i wish i were a writer...
a few points shy of the high score and actionmanmagazine have made me realize that i am writing shit. literally. i recall the days when i could coax a laugh out of the most solemn fat man.... i am a failure, a mere shell of the terror i once was.
a few points shy of the high score and actionmanmagazine have made me realize that i am writing shit. literally. i recall the days when i could coax a laugh out of the most solemn fat man.... i am a failure, a mere shell of the terror i once was.
Sunday
///distilled///
after driving home in the white out friday night, tom and i have constructed a heavily-jointed emotional bond.
(he is the silly putty of my universe.)
and there was the interview, and the sleeping and the motion and the colors and lights
(not the proverbial lights, i actually saw them all spinning together harmoniously....)
and i had my first thoughtless sensation of feeling. alex was right. it isn't anything like knowing. it's pure.
i tried to explain the whole thing to bui, but he wasn't with me on it.
here's how it was:
i wake up cast with light from a naked bulb.l ying there in the early hours of morning in the midst of mountians of blankets. tom re-enters the room and gets into bed. there is momentary silence. he tells me about some bikes he's seen, but i have a hard time comprehending because my mind isn't exactly there. the lights became increasingly significant, i wanted more thatn ever to hold someone in my arms, but not to violate him (he is something special). i confessed to him that i was having an actual feeling. he probably thought i was going mad. but i wanted to call alex and shout it that i knew. i did not because it was 3 am. i had to settle with knowing myself, and i suppose that's what it's really all about. like that poem in the perks of being a wallflower.
back to the future. i suppose that's what i could call my present. i always seem to be sitting out of it. great scott! it's time to begin the early editiouns of inaugural assassins.
after driving home in the white out friday night, tom and i have constructed a heavily-jointed emotional bond.
(he is the silly putty of my universe.)
and there was the interview, and the sleeping and the motion and the colors and lights
(not the proverbial lights, i actually saw them all spinning together harmoniously....)
and i had my first thoughtless sensation of feeling. alex was right. it isn't anything like knowing. it's pure.
i tried to explain the whole thing to bui, but he wasn't with me on it.
here's how it was:
i wake up cast with light from a naked bulb.l ying there in the early hours of morning in the midst of mountians of blankets. tom re-enters the room and gets into bed. there is momentary silence. he tells me about some bikes he's seen, but i have a hard time comprehending because my mind isn't exactly there. the lights became increasingly significant, i wanted more thatn ever to hold someone in my arms, but not to violate him (he is something special). i confessed to him that i was having an actual feeling. he probably thought i was going mad. but i wanted to call alex and shout it that i knew. i did not because it was 3 am. i had to settle with knowing myself, and i suppose that's what it's really all about. like that poem in the perks of being a wallflower.
back to the future. i suppose that's what i could call my present. i always seem to be sitting out of it. great scott! it's time to begin the early editiouns of inaugural assassins.
Wednesday
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eat that, fortune cookie machine!
ok, it's official. i'm booked for four (count 'em, four) therapy sessions immediately. that should have a positive effect on my life. i hope.
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eat that, fortune cookie machine!
ok, it's official. i'm booked for four (count 'em, four) therapy sessions immediately. that should have a positive effect on my life. i hope.
Friday
i. gave. myself. an. anxiety. attack. and. my. heart. poured. out. of my. chest. back. into. my. throat.
(teaching myself a lesson, i collapsed.)
the sun blinded me like the stranger. (oh, marsault. i know your crime of passion, sometimes the sun makes you do nothing too.) i love you, and as usual, you don't know who i am. that's bad.
where are the inspirations? where are the little treasures?
show me, love.
(teaching myself a lesson, i collapsed.)
the sun blinded me like the stranger. (oh, marsault. i know your crime of passion, sometimes the sun makes you do nothing too.) i love you, and as usual, you don't know who i am. that's bad.
where are the inspirations? where are the little treasures?
show me, love.
Thursday
| Get to know the REAL you by crash_and_burn | |
|---|---|
| Your Name | |
| You Are A: | Geek |
| Your Favorite Band/Song | Saves The Day - All-Star Me |
| You Like To Read: | Everything |
| You Firmly Believe In: | Abstinence |
| Everyone Thinks You Are: | A complete loser |
| You Were Conceived: | By immaculate conception |
| You Will Marry: | Ghandi |
Created with  quill18's MemeGen 2.0! | |
jesus, this is almost true.
dear tim: i wish you would stop boycotting me.
as for tom, and morris, i am happy to know you.
michael: are you still alive?
david, jeff: hey. you can call me if you want.
that just about covers all of the bases. what is going on?
big math test tomorrow. paper due in ap, and art class. work on the project for geography. stop failing at school.
Monday
the humdrum of winter keeps me awake, though it should bore me to sleep. i like to listen to the radio in the dark and think about all the things i might be doing instead of rearranging my resources.
telephones. carrying cases. musical instruments.
(to those of you i haven't seen in a while, i am sorry. i haven't been myself as of late. i haven't forgotten you. please accept my apology.)
weekends are becoming hectic, i feel like there is no break inbetween. it's the proverbial "crunch time" and i am being compressed into an easily transported device.
i have to speak to alex about the whole parkside show. i'd like to enter one of my gigantic scupltures. perhaps i should make a new one.. pick up the wire from bens house and give the paper mache goo a try. i bet i could make something beautiful, even. perhaps i'll cover someone in it.
telephones. carrying cases. musical instruments.
(to those of you i haven't seen in a while, i am sorry. i haven't been myself as of late. i haven't forgotten you. please accept my apology.)
weekends are becoming hectic, i feel like there is no break inbetween. it's the proverbial "crunch time" and i am being compressed into an easily transported device.
i have to speak to alex about the whole parkside show. i'd like to enter one of my gigantic scupltures. perhaps i should make a new one.. pick up the wire from bens house and give the paper mache goo a try. i bet i could make something beautiful, even. perhaps i'll cover someone in it.
Sunday
i'm a little black girl, short and stout
if it is snowing, i don't come out.
when i get my hair wet, then i shout
"oh hell no" and then i pout.
i'm having a contest. everyone who enters gets a prize.
in other news, my littel brother spencer was privy to his very first show last night. el oso, bob gun, those royals, the box social, and the new blind nationals participated in making his first indie rock memory. i'm really glad it didn't suck. i'm currently seeking out a date with all of the members of the box social, and in preparation will listen to their song "hot damn" every day until my dream comes true.
needless to say, i have been once again turned on to local music. thanks to all who participated. i love you, and i'll see you later.
if it is snowing, i don't come out.
when i get my hair wet, then i shout
"oh hell no" and then i pout.
i'm having a contest. everyone who enters gets a prize.
in other news, my littel brother spencer was privy to his very first show last night. el oso, bob gun, those royals, the box social, and the new blind nationals participated in making his first indie rock memory. i'm really glad it didn't suck. i'm currently seeking out a date with all of the members of the box social, and in preparation will listen to their song "hot damn" every day until my dream comes true.
needless to say, i have been once again turned on to local music. thanks to all who participated. i love you, and i'll see you later.
Friday
i'm taking on all sorts of strange new projects these days. filling boxes with memories, becoming an antisocial person, relearning to love microsoft paint after being denied photoshop and illustrator. i think it's time to recreate an artistic empire.
on the darker side of the spectrum, i'm finding myself in a generally less pleasant mood. things aren't really coming to gether the way i feel that they should be. i poured gasoline all oer myself today in the -30 degree weather. it was unfortunate. i thought about the bridge i would soon be crossing to return home, all of the things i ought to be doing (but with no such desire to do so...). i have fallen into a funk.
drove around with alex tompsett this evening. interesting, really. he's a good kid. tomorrow is alex palacek in the morning, john vernon in the afternoon, the show (possibly) in the midday, and poetry at night. then there's the jo and carl option to be considered. (of course all of these things have to happen on one day, they couldn't conceive of spreading out to allow ample time for recovery.)
this is clearly getting rediculous.
on the darker side of the spectrum, i'm finding myself in a generally less pleasant mood. things aren't really coming to gether the way i feel that they should be. i poured gasoline all oer myself today in the -30 degree weather. it was unfortunate. i thought about the bridge i would soon be crossing to return home, all of the things i ought to be doing (but with no such desire to do so...). i have fallen into a funk.
drove around with alex tompsett this evening. interesting, really. he's a good kid. tomorrow is alex palacek in the morning, john vernon in the afternoon, the show (possibly) in the midday, and poetry at night. then there's the jo and carl option to be considered. (of course all of these things have to happen on one day, they couldn't conceive of spreading out to allow ample time for recovery.)
this is clearly getting rediculous.
Tuesday
i have eaten
the cinnamon cereal
that was in
the cupboard
and which
you were probably
wanting
to eat.
forgive me
it was delicious
so sweet
and so cinnamony.
oh w.c.w. i fucked your shit up. i have become addicted to cinnamon cereal. it is like crack. only much, much better for your health. on a more positive note, i did encounter a lovely narrative on the seven deadly sins. very interesting. it inspired me. very real.
then i tried to explain to bui why i'm the way i am, and tom r. reminded me of who said it best:
But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"
-Jack Kerouac, On The Road
cuz jack fucked all our shit up...
the cinnamon cereal
that was in
the cupboard
and which
you were probably
wanting
to eat.
forgive me
it was delicious
so sweet
and so cinnamony.
oh w.c.w. i fucked your shit up. i have become addicted to cinnamon cereal. it is like crack. only much, much better for your health. on a more positive note, i did encounter a lovely narrative on the seven deadly sins. very interesting. it inspired me. very real.
then i tried to explain to bui why i'm the way i am, and tom r. reminded me of who said it best:
But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"
-Jack Kerouac, On The Road
cuz jack fucked all our shit up...
Sunday
Tuesday
Monday
and I'm laying out my winter clothes
and wishing I was gone going home
where the New York city winters aren't bleedin' me
leading me, going home
watched the graduate today. also fought with my mother, who i feel was being unreasonable. that's not what this is about though. i was thinking that the graduate makes me feel right. it reminds me of the simon and garfunkel concert i keep returning to in my mind. i wrap myself up in the memory and desire to be transported back. the music touched my soul.
i've wanted more than ever to move on with my life these past few weeks. it's been wearing on me. in terms of consolation, i'm going out for coffee with alex. that'll be pleasant. we don't ever really get a chance to talk.
on the other hand, i had the joy of warren company today after school. we went out for coffee. but first, liv and i decided it was best that we make jake run after the van. it was a hoot.
now that i look back on it, it seems that a large percentage of the day went better than i remembered. tony made me so happy today with his antics. first, there was his throwing of a banana peel infront of passers-by. (they looked so frustrated, but i couldn't help but laugh. forgive me, it was hilarious.) then there was the part where he harrassed everyone who walked past. that was equally fun. i should stop letting these things get me down.
besides, i can start that shit over tomorrow.
and wishing I was gone going home
where the New York city winters aren't bleedin' me
leading me, going home
watched the graduate today. also fought with my mother, who i feel was being unreasonable. that's not what this is about though. i was thinking that the graduate makes me feel right. it reminds me of the simon and garfunkel concert i keep returning to in my mind. i wrap myself up in the memory and desire to be transported back. the music touched my soul.
i've wanted more than ever to move on with my life these past few weeks. it's been wearing on me. in terms of consolation, i'm going out for coffee with alex. that'll be pleasant. we don't ever really get a chance to talk.
on the other hand, i had the joy of warren company today after school. we went out for coffee. but first, liv and i decided it was best that we make jake run after the van. it was a hoot.
now that i look back on it, it seems that a large percentage of the day went better than i remembered. tony made me so happy today with his antics. first, there was his throwing of a banana peel infront of passers-by. (they looked so frustrated, but i couldn't help but laugh. forgive me, it was hilarious.) then there was the part where he harrassed everyone who walked past. that was equally fun. i should stop letting these things get me down.
besides, i can start that shit over tomorrow.
Sunday
inaugural assassins
door county..... that was that. now i am home, and returned pleasantly to find an arsenal of pens at my disposal. (pleasant surprise, i love you mom.) walked over to daniel's in a sweater in the -19 degree weather. i have never felt so rebellious in my life. i continued my rebellion for the remainder of the evening, and even contemplated walking further, but decided against it on account of the fact that i cannot contract any sicknesses for the time being. it just isn't in my plans.
it seems that the planning for the gallery is coming along. anne arbor, michigan is our destination. if everything goes according to plan, i'll go to school there and live with drew. he's a nice boy. (it will be like playing house in the fifties. while living in our own eighties.)
for some reason, i'm feeling social tonight. (i'll stay inside until the feeling goes away.) i've been drinking too much tea and reading too many words that are calling me to actions i cannot be held responsible for. now that i think about it, i'd like not to be responsible at all.
responsibility is so tiring...
here i am again, masquerading before all, because there is little else, although i want more. after reading steppenwolf, i can justify, but think it's more or less making an excuse to be an exclusionary elitist... i don't want that. i'd really like to be able to just laugh. i don't remember the last time i did that. (that means it's been too long...) but it's as if though the people who i laughed with have evolved into new constellations. oh god, constellations can make me cry.
door county..... that was that. now i am home, and returned pleasantly to find an arsenal of pens at my disposal. (pleasant surprise, i love you mom.) walked over to daniel's in a sweater in the -19 degree weather. i have never felt so rebellious in my life. i continued my rebellion for the remainder of the evening, and even contemplated walking further, but decided against it on account of the fact that i cannot contract any sicknesses for the time being. it just isn't in my plans.
it seems that the planning for the gallery is coming along. anne arbor, michigan is our destination. if everything goes according to plan, i'll go to school there and live with drew. he's a nice boy. (it will be like playing house in the fifties. while living in our own eighties.)
for some reason, i'm feeling social tonight. (i'll stay inside until the feeling goes away.) i've been drinking too much tea and reading too many words that are calling me to actions i cannot be held responsible for. now that i think about it, i'd like not to be responsible at all.
responsibility is so tiring...
here i am again, masquerading before all, because there is little else, although i want more. after reading steppenwolf, i can justify, but think it's more or less making an excuse to be an exclusionary elitist... i don't want that. i'd really like to be able to just laugh. i don't remember the last time i did that. (that means it's been too long...) but it's as if though the people who i laughed with have evolved into new constellations. oh god, constellations can make me cry.
Monday
oh warren, no one does it like you....
and you think that the other guys are fucking it up for you. if you ony knew.
that was the best solilquoiy (sp?) i've ever heard. it was real, i knew how you felt.
i appreciate your friendship more than you'll ever know.
this was a great day. after school at least. that's the way things ougth to be.
and you think that the other guys are fucking it up for you. if you ony knew.
that was the best solilquoiy (sp?) i've ever heard. it was real, i knew how you felt.
i appreciate your friendship more than you'll ever know.
this was a great day. after school at least. that's the way things ougth to be.
Friday
it's snowing outiside beautifully.. it's that type of snow that makes winter acceptable... the snow is white. it reminds me of songs i used to love when i was younger. (i loved the songs well enough, but the people i associated their melodies with more...)
things have been getting rough around the edges. why haven't we been able to come to a civil agreement? [ i just want everything to be finished.... is that asking too much of life?]
sometimes, the letters i get make me wish that my life were a two-dimentional sketch. the words i write in response "depress" others. i need to put them somewhere, though.
i love the music that comes in the mail unexpectedly. something about the words (or lack thereof) completely destroys my soul. i mean, it's devastating. i listen to it and strate out into the white of winter and remember. i know thath things aren't any better now than they've been in the past. that doesn't mean that the previous times of my life were any better.
i try to see things neutrally, but i'm too involved in my emotion. i cant' say which would be for the best anyhow. i'm not one for mediocrity, and i know thath you could vouch.
i should stop living in the past.
things have been getting rough around the edges. why haven't we been able to come to a civil agreement? [ i just want everything to be finished.... is that asking too much of life?]
sometimes, the letters i get make me wish that my life were a two-dimentional sketch. the words i write in response "depress" others. i need to put them somewhere, though.
i love the music that comes in the mail unexpectedly. something about the words (or lack thereof) completely destroys my soul. i mean, it's devastating. i listen to it and strate out into the white of winter and remember. i know thath things aren't any better now than they've been in the past. that doesn't mean that the previous times of my life were any better.
i try to see things neutrally, but i'm too involved in my emotion. i cant' say which would be for the best anyhow. i'm not one for mediocrity, and i know thath you could vouch.
i should stop living in the past.
Sunday
Saturday
"Man to man, body muscular
Sismic decibel by the jugular
Wall to wall, tea time technology and a digital ladder
No sign of bad luck in rapture"
rapture by blondie
thus far, we've started the year off right.
what do we plan to accomplish this time around?
- remove myself from unneccesarily awkward situations
- smile more
- be sincere
- laugh
- stop eating cake for breakfast
that's not too much to ask. i think this one could be the best yet. but we'll see.
as for my actual future, i have no idea what's going to happen... i hope to get the gallery on it's feet. hope to get on my feet. off my ass. on the dance floor.
sharon, when you get home, it's on.
Sismic decibel by the jugular
Wall to wall, tea time technology and a digital ladder
No sign of bad luck in rapture"
rapture by blondie
thus far, we've started the year off right.
what do we plan to accomplish this time around?
- remove myself from unneccesarily awkward situations
- smile more
- be sincere
- laugh
- stop eating cake for breakfast
that's not too much to ask. i think this one could be the best yet. but we'll see.
as for my actual future, i have no idea what's going to happen... i hope to get the gallery on it's feet. hope to get on my feet. off my ass. on the dance floor.
sharon, when you get home, it's on.
Friday
party like it's 1999...
i wore that pretty yellow dress, drank a fifth of brandy (and some other miscelaneous drinks), rocked out to 5 awesome bands and went to a party afterwords where i was hit on as if i were the most beautiful woman in the whole world...
i love you all.
happy new year, sweetheart.
i love you all.
happy new year, sweetheart.
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