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.

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.

it is almost friday.
(i'm putting on my excited face.)

listening to jack kerouac read haiku. the saxophone makes me shutter. my mind is living in now, but my spirit is living in the recent past. jazz, drugs, dancing, excess, lavish dinners, wild music.

i cannot wait.

i am:
-networking
-sleeping
-wanting to take pictures in the rain
-wondering what the fuck is going on
-writing a story out of blog entries
- remembering everything in full color

i am:
-hoarding crossword puzzles
-sighing for no apparent reason
-counting the days
-wondering what you're up to

passing the time doing things like this, wishing you were here...

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)

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.

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.

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 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?

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.