Those disco balls cause seizures in my eyes;As the deafening music kills all senses

Dear anonymous Commenter, [Who I've decided is not Rhea, but some asshole from riverhead, or an associate of Rhea's]

2006-03-19T11:11:00.000-08:00

Congradulations. I've decided to discontinue this blog because you fucking suck. Ass wipe.

Michelle Miller.

Woke up. Took a shower. Went back to sleep. Woke up again. Took another shower.

2006-03-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

Rhea's the fucking anonymous Commenter, and she makes me hyperventilate when I'm around her.

2006-03-18T14:22:00.000-08:00

I dont smoke pot. Dumbass
Anyway. Yea. I bought books. I had to leave Sam and Calyne because Rhea was coming. So now I get to see a movie with my goddamn mom.

Fucking Joy.

::EDIT::
Ok, the movie was fucking SCARY. Being with my mom wasnt that bad, AND, to top it all of, we saw some kids from riverhead.END. ::End o EDIT::

I'm not fucking emo, retard.

So. JUST TO ADD TO MY NOT EMONESS, my life has kinda sucked recently. Its ok though, AS LONG AS I HAVE MY FUCKING SKA MUSIC, right? nope. I left my Fucking ipod in CALYNES MOMS CAR. So Unless I can carry my computer around with me, which I cant, stupid NOT OWNING A LAPTOP ANYMORE. Rah. Whatever. [<3 streelight Manifesto]

i like to imagine that if i walk through the pouring rain with enough equanimity, like with my hood down and chin slightly up and a dreamy hint of a smile on my face, i can restore balance to...a chaotic universe? a troubled world? two curious kids in the backseat of a car? one half-hearted passerby? i dunno, something like that.

MY COMPUTER SUCKS RECENTLY. alot, like, not even somtimes, like all the time. So I called the computer boy to come fix it.

my weekend thus far has been unparalleled in excellence?, to the extent that i know in advance i'm doomed to fail to capture it in writing. instead, i'll dispassionately relate some ho-hum news.

inevitably, the moment the brilliant computer boy leaves, my computsey decides to become riddled with viruses. every few clicketies presents me with a new series of evidently sexed-up ass shots that are supposed to lure me into explicit encounters with plasticine lovelies. one free scan i took reported 195 corrupted files...i'm not sure the relative stance here, but that kinda sounds like a lot. this particular scan told me that the blackworm virus makes my machine susceptible to blah blah blah all these assaults on my privacy [as if i was under the delusion that it exists], including the monitoring of credit card numbers...and then it tells me all my problems can be solved by buying this $40 program, which obviously requires a credit card number to purchase. o really? so i tried to attend to this for roughly four hours, finally becoming bored with my incompetence. yes, BORED. customarily, i face blatant personal incompetence with agitation and frustration....lately, however, it's all laissez-faire. lancelot wants to skitz on me, whatever. waste o' my time. i have more pressing concerns to casually write-off. either i'll get this fixed before i have to write my paper for next week, or i'll just write them in the library lab. either/or.

i thought on the bus the other day that many people seem to be plagued not so strongly by a lack of happiness, but by a lack of satisfaction. or, many people seem to feel cruelly haunted not so much by subjective unhappiness, but by subjective unsatisfaction. if happiness seems to be equated with satisfaction levels, this points to a lack of some presence or state rather than the unpleasant presence of some state. my satisfaction levels concerning myself are definitively in the negatives, but i realize that this does not have to be so. in fact it IS not so if i say it is not so. wait what am i saying, i do not know, i need to go to trader joe's while it is not pouring rain, you are so silly it kills me!!! stop typing in your live Blogger you little buffoon!!

Off to see "The Hills Have Eyes" With the Madre.

Breakthrough discovery: No one in the world gives a goddamnshit about anyone else in the fucking world.

2006-03-16T15:16:00.000-08:00

So fuck off.

"and so she wakes up
in time to break down
she left a note up on the dresser
and she's right on time
you don't know anything
right or wrong
i said i know
and she said so
i want to panic
but i've had it
so i go
you don't owe anything to anyone

but don't take your life
because it's all that you've got
you'd be better off just up and leaving
if you don't think they will stop

and when you wake up
everything is going to be fine
i guarantee that you wake up in a better place
and in a better time
so you're tired of living
and you feel like you might give in
well don't
it's not your time

looking through the paper today
looking for a specific page
don't want to find her full name followed by dates
because when i left her alone
she made a sound, like a moan
"you're known by everyone for everything you've done"
fuck buying flowers for graves
i'd rather buy you a one way non-stop
to anywhere
find anyone
do anything
forget and start again, love
she said she won't go
and that's that
it hurts too much to stand by
you've got to stop and draw a line
and everyone here has to choose a side tonight
the moment of truth is haunting you
don't forget your family
regardless of what you choose to do
you can't decide
and they're screaming "why won't you?"
i'll start the engine but i can't take this ride for you
i'll draw the bath and i'll load your gun
but i hope so bad that you bathe and hunt

annie's tired of forgetting about today and always planning for tomorrow (tomorrow)
annie says "the saddest day i came acrosss was when i learned that life goes on without me" (without me)
annie says "if everyone has someone else, then i ain't got nobody's love to save me" (save me)
annie says "i think i'll pass away tonight, because it seems i'll never get it right if it's just me" (just me)

and when you wake up
everything is going to be fine
i guarantee that you wake up in a better place
and in a better time
so you're tired of living
and you feel like you might give in
well don't
it's not your time

annie says she wouldn't mind if they never find a cure for all her problems (her problems)
annie says as long as she has someone near to make it clear she does not need to solve them (solve them)
"oh, this loneliness is killing me
it's filling me with anger and resentment (resentment)
i'm turning into someone that i never thought i'd have to be again"

and when you wake up
everything is going to be fine
i guarantee that you wake up in a better place
and in a better time
so you're tired of living
and you feel like you might give in
well don't
it's not your time

annie's tired of forgetting about today and always planning for tomorrow (tomorrow)
annie says "the saddest day i came acrosss was when i learned that life goes on without me" (without me)
annie says "if everyone has someone else, then i ain't got nobody's love to save me" (save me)
annie says "i think i'll pass away tonight, because it seems i'll never get it right if it's just me" (just me)

and when you wake up
everything is going to be fine
i guarantee that you wake up in a better place
and in a better time
so you're tired of living
and you feel like you might give in
well don't
it's not your time

and even if it was
i wouldn't let you go
you could run run run run but i will follow close
someday you will say "that's it, that's all"
but i'll be waiting there with open arms to break your fall
i know that you think that you're on your own
but just know that i'm here
and i'll lead you home
if you let me
she said "forget me"
but i can't"

["A better place a better time," Streetlight Manifesto]

I look friggen old.

2006-03-16T04:19:00.000-08:00

YEAH, i have to dress up as friggen Beate SIrota Gordon, ACK!

so, i have flour in my hair to add to the oldness effect, hm. It stills looks purple and bl;ue and pink, just more, gray and flower-y, because i usefd flower instead of hair powder, yea. YEsterday was really cool. FRench feild trip. More about it later.

I hurt my elbow today, freak penny accident, actually.

2006-03-14T16:36:00.000-08:00

ANYWAY. French feild trip tommorow, getting up EARLIER then usual, fun?
I miss my Stony Brook friends, as in THE torie THE jess THE amanda and THE krisszi. ANd its weird, the only people Ive ever missed are Sam, Yvie, and my dad. EVER. These people must be cooler then I thought, lol. Maby its just because I dont get to see them as often. Ponderworthy, hm? I hate when i forget to capitalize the letter I [i]. Ack.

He took a step that day, and would for many more to come, to the street that bore the coffee shop. A path he had never before taken and which soon became routine. He stepped heavily through puddles soaking corners and potholes on cold, rainy streets around noon. One would never be able to tell, however, for the sky was dyed that day the sickening color of winter’s sunset. An all too consistent gray that sprayed rain sporadically like tears on a withered, dreary, land. The moods of those on the streets that day reflected the same. Hopeful and sad, a mass of bodies moving static through the day wishing it were tomorrow. That was all one could do on a day such as that. Beauty hung in the shadows for all to feel yet none to see. And so hope lingered in the fragile mind of the young man treading on uncharted territory through the soggy streets of New York City. A step in suede here, soaking fibers, a glance above there, but only for a second to catch a glimpse of what he approached.
The jingle of the door bells rang through the tiny coffee shop. Over walls soaked in perverted notions of self worth. Over dreamers and artists and caffeine addicts sucking glutinous gulps from mugs breathing steam. Church bells for bean starved patrons seeking refuge from a life of blind creativity. One to a table they all gathered, never speaking to nor looking at those around. Silence. If it were not for the occasional cacophonous sipping emphasizing every mouthful with exaggerated enthusiasm. And so a setting was set for matters of pretentious creation and contemptuous feelings towards those who dared not enter the small coffee shop on the nameless street in New York City. And so be it, they felt, who are they to be worthy of our company. To those sitting awkwardly on wooden stools thinking themselves more artistic than god, the world was a cold and sterile place with no inspiration to be found. This is, as they would put it, the ultimate qualm with their artistic temperament: the ability to see the world as it really is with no light to see the canvas but a twinkle in the eye to guide them through.
And thus the stage was set for self-destruction. The players, weary wanderers whose hearts pumped ink, acted out scripts with mindless apathy towards a tragic end. A fitting end. They would have it no other way. Better to be stabbed through the heart and have a story to tell than die nameless of a bullet in the brain. Pain breeds inspiration. Inspiration breeds art. Art is timeless. And so the story went for those acted with the constant thought of the suffering to come. They spilled it on the page as they did in their words shoved violently from the throat.

Emilys a better writer then me =] <3

Hm.

2006-03-13T08:55:00.000-08:00

::Edit::

[So, 76 Got into Concord, and Yvie got into Promfret. And I now regret decided not to go away, Cause im gonna miss my friends so fucking bad. I guess theres always 10th grade.]

I went skiing with Jess, Krisszi, Tori and Amanda. And it was really great, actually.
But I can't help feeling like they were a LOT cooler then me. weird.

Slept over Jessicas with Krisszi Saterday, that was fucking fun. I suck at DDR, alot.
I fell asleep on krisszi, she makes weird tummy noises in her sleep.

Went skiing on Sunday, Woke up at 3 am, but I tend to be a morning person anyway, So is Jess. Krisszi, isnt.

So, got on a bus for 4 hours. Listened to cool music, was groped by Krisszi when the black bus guy yelled at us for supposivly strangeling eachother. I was like, ok. But we were being really loud and singing and shit.

Got to skii place. Torie Krisszi and Amanda were just learning snowboarding, so me and Jess went to the top and di the hard shit. Fun. I didnt fall once =] Jess did some cool tricky things for the first time, fell on her face one. Hah.

Krisszi hit her head on hte bunny hill, Ouch.

Got lunch. Skiied on bunny hill with Tori Jess Amanda And Krisszi, then went back to top with Jess. Got free mountain Dew.

Bus ride back: Sat next to Amanda, she wore my clothes. Me and Jess were an hour late to the bus, oops?

Fell asleep on Amanda, woke up. Got MCdonalds. SHake n fries for din din. Back on bus, watched creepy bloody fucking corny bad ending horror movies, tried to tie jessicas shoes together, didnt work =[
Some seventh grader kept makes weird noises, but he wasnt bad looking, which made it cool, weirdly.

Krisszi and Torie talked in the back about guys or somthing, i didnt really care. Tori told us about how she crashed into some guy and made out with him, I didnt believe her. Amanda told me and Jess it wasnt true. Amandas a pretty mellow person, it's cool. I felt like i was an annoyance on the bus ride back. Well, only like 25% of it, but i think it was just me.

They are all SO MUCH cooler then me, it was weird.

Krisszi makes weird sleeping faces. She has really amazing eyes, i dno why she wears contacts to make them purple.

Hm.

i went to bed at 3:00. was i studying all night? nay, i was reading. for kickers, mind you, not for class.

2006-03-10T19:34:00.000-08:00

the library is annoying when you can't check out any books. their shelved repose may be unreasonably tantalizing, but i cry myself to sleep after starting four novels at once. these be: infinite jest, if on a winter's night a traveler, the poisonwood bible, and in the lake of the woods. all recommended.

Going to Jessica's tommorow, seeing krisszi and jess, obviously. Calyne fell asleep at like, 8. She suckiths. Ack, I think i mightve failed my math test, again. Oops?

Yea. Oops.

Sam's sick, which sucks alot. My body hurts, EVERYWHERE. Im so sore and I have no idea why. I hope I'm better by sunday. WHY SUNDAY?! you may ask. Going skiing with Torie and Jess and Krisszi and peeps. Woot.
Im exited =]

Stupid Editing of paper, and studying for math tests. ACHK

2006-03-09T15:59:00.000-08:00

papers, being incredibly distasteful [and a waste of our higher faculties which could better be spent, say, playing soccer, internet surfing] are usually undertaken by our person at the last possible moment, from the hours of four to seven am, or thereabouts. the selling point summarily that at such hours, since one would prefer to be sleeping but one cannot, there is little motivation to pursue procrastinatory pursuits outside of sitting on the couch, computsey on lap, typing self-disparaging admonitions between breaks from groggy analytic criticisms. AH BUT HERE'S YOUR CLICKING MOMENT. i noticed today that the bottle of wine noodles procured for me two months ago is, rather, still hanging about. undoubtedly i need to take advantage of alcohol's peculiar effects on my body as a stabilizer and focal-attention-intensifier; as long as i do not start dancing, papers should be churned out like mad--and in a prototypical debauched authorial fashion, hot damn.

thus: a campaign of mild substance abuse in order to increase productivity. rather, productivity in the realm of institutionalized academia. and oh, what a stultifying realm that can often seem.

The scary thing is, I dont know why I'm so sad lately, I dont even know if I am sad, Im just,I don't know. Plain truth; Regret.

2006-03-08T18:56:00.000-08:00

behold !
how the moon and river make love
engrossed in deep, enchanting conversation
even separated by a million miles
the river holds the shimmering moon to his chest
the moon reaches out across the width of the night
to waltz with her beloved

So, it seems anonymous commenter has yet to strike again.

2006-03-08T10:54:00.000-08:00

A moment of disgusting dramatism
i'm dying, friends. (sooner than later, that is)

1. i've been having headaches for the past few days (which i rarely rarely have, and never for more than an hour--i haven't taken an aspirin for years)
2. i'm been maddeningly tired even though i've had plenty of sleep
3. i think i almost fainted last nightish (though there's a high possibility that this would have been a result of extreme boredom). though as i've never fainted, this morsel of information could be completely fabricated.
4. worst: i'm having these massive chest pains. pangs? they are pangs of pain. it's like when you drink water and it goes down the wrong tube and hurts really bad, except they're constant and all over my chest, and sometimes i can't breathe in, and then if i do it spreads to my back like needles all over. and i can barely eat/don't want to, which is always a sign that something is drastically wrong. also, it's hard to do homework when i can't sit down without hurting, which is somewhat inconvenient.

histrionics aside, does anyone know if this is a symptom of some horrific impending doom on my part? i'm rather looking forward to quite a few things happening in the near future, so i hope not.

I hate computer lab doc lab whatever, and it hates I. So we have a commen interest.

reading about just and limited war and sams fucking grandmother is far more excruciatingly painful than i had figured. pretty much highlights everything that we did wrong. that we continue to do. that we continue to do with confidence. or perhaps well-disguised faulty mis-leading displays of bravado. pomp and circumstance. i can play that on my flute with no sheet music. what a lame song to have committed to memory. i'm casually eyeing other computer screens; i wonder what papers people are writing. now i'm trying to read minds. not too successful, but i think body language, facial expression, and interpersonal reactions are a good gauge. this can be rather distressing. i might be way off, but i see: one girl who is only faking niceties to the person she is talking with; one girl who looks entirely unhappy with herself, the fact that she is in this hot and crowded computer lab, the fact that she has to be to write a paper, and the fact that she's not at all interested in writing the paper; two girls too studiously involved in writing their papers that they might not stop to look at the moon when they leave, but they'll have this checked off their list of things to do, i wonder what tomorrow's list has on it; one girl who likes one boy, and i like these two, they're working AND laughing and teasing each other; one guy with headphones who is too impassive to read; one guy who looks overwhelmed as if the paper is too much for him he cannot handle it he is stupid and just wants to leave and that girl talking on the cell phone next to him is really obnoxious but too pretty to tell to stop he's trying to think; one guy down at the end, all alone, who is staring intently at the screen with interest, most likely not working on a paper at all. it's pretty funny that no one really pays attention to the people who are in such close proximity to them. i would bet my left ear that no one is trying to analyze me from purely physical presence. i might perhaps exude a mysterious aura were someone to try. i am bundled up in all black with a cap pulled low over my eyes and a scarf hiding my neck and much of my face. my face is slack and expressionless, unless you count the slight sardonic glimmer of amusement at my intentionally considering these things.   the girl who just walked in has long red and black braids covering her head. she's listening to clasic big band jazz and swing music on headphones, and i can hear it perfectly. i can also hear several conversations with more precision than necessary. once again, i think people forget the close proximity of others. besides, what does it matter if i hear them? i don't know them, therefore i don't care. right? wrong. i'll take it and i'll use it for purposes of my own. overheard conversations can be perfect muses: allowing just a small glimpse of cicumstances, usually with a problem--the resolution (or lack thereof)is left for me to ponder over and decide. i find great interest in people, especially the people who are usually overlooked or undervalued by the mainstream. or, even by the against-the-current hipness of defying the mainstream, which can develop into a stream of itself. what happens to the people that fit nowhere? who can't even rebel and dissent with style? they don't know it, but i watch them and i learn from them. i would just like all the lonely people out there, who think no one cares or notices them, that they just exist and are on the outside looking in--i am on the outer outside, and i am looking at you. we're all in, it's just perspective. i watch, and i appreciate. if this is the case, i can only assume that someone else is watching and appreciating me, though how would i ever know? what if they're as sly as i am, what if they are nonchalant and reserved and only would admit it on a stupid online journal? i still think they exist, maybe like a rare species of bird that you think you glimpse a flash of color once in the trees, and you don't know if it's real, but you spend the rest of you life looking for it. or an orchid. but it's hard to tell when there are a lot of birds flapping about and making a lot of noise, but not really noticing what's going on around them. they might be eaten by a bird-eating animal (this animal escapes me at the moment). survival of the fittest? or, CRUELLY, maybe nature, or a society thinking itself above nature, will take this birds and place them in beautiful gold (faux gold, that is) cages and feed them on caviar and other disgusting things that are expensive and DESIRED, so therefore the birds will think themselves luckily and prospering and successful as birds go. they'll probably even forget they're in a cage. because it's gold (faux gold, that is) and it glimmers like the sun.   i'll place my bet on the bird that glimmers by itself. that flashes in the trees. that elusive species that may exist only in my mind, but that in itself if a start.     allllright. that's enough intentional procrastinating for the moment. if laura doesn't have three pages by the time i get back, she can kiss her little jig good-bye. the jiglett shall be jigless. such is the potential dastardly nature of procrastination.

so, when i was finally deciding to mosey on down away from the road of procrastion, and take a small hike into the land of productivity, i hit some serious speedbumps...in the form of the relation of a conversation with an (apparently intelligent? what eeez zees?) conservative. so, being all worked up and incredulous over that. and then, there was the mention of a freakish dog, a german poodle. crazy conversation involving mad laughter, in which rash decisions were made. the end result: i have decided to throw caution/good sense to the winds (oh, i've been wanting to do that so much lately, only desiring a willing accomplice), and pull a fabulous all-nighter. (for no reason whatsover, other than to screw ourselves over as much as possible). so therefore, while completely messing up my well-oiled circadian rhythms, i can: get ahead on homework... do lots of reading (i have have four excellent non-class books vying for my attention)...see what psycopathic friends are online in the wee hours of the morning...maybe do some insomnia-induced artwork or writing...research all the san francisco propositions (the pamplet is about 200 pages long)...watch the sunrise...perhaps watch a movie...basically do anything to ward off the natural tendency to sleep...go through classes like a zombie (like i would anyhow as a result of anxiety)...watch the daily show for two hours....do a wild celebration dance...pass out on the bed. and then, resume my life as a normal human being the next day. there is nothing normal about this evening, and what will happen in the next twenty-four hours, and i would probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyways. so let madness reign supreme. i am so ready and willing.

Long post. woot?
swing down by my window
i'll lift the latch, i'll let you in
we'll sit and smile and talk in rhymes
our voices: music, twinkling chimes

i'll pull the covers past your chin
to hide that charming, fiendish grin
you always laugh when i tell you i don't believe you're real.

you say, 'this is reality'
and kiss me on the nose before i duck away

oh, i'll pummel you with pillows
my weapons of down and fluff
and you'll wrap me in the colorful patchwork quilt
tickle me till i cry

neither of us give in
'mercy' is a plea never voiced aloud in these ephemeral sessions of opposing forces

that's as physical as it gets
pressures more than lightweight bedding threaten to shatter a fragile reality
once in a while i might slip up,
bite your ear when you banter too skillfully
but the widening of our eyes
(which allows us to catch the faint shimmer at the corners of vision)
resign us to those matters of propriety

(with a soft, tired, mutual sigh)
we sink back into the pile of pillows
now, no longer the harmless extensions of harder, passioned fists
they are a welcome repose, a cradle of serenity
then, with my head nestled just so in the crook of your arm
you begin to read from the book you hold in slightly shaking hands
the plot, the characters, the literary merit is rendered laughable and irrelevant
everything is magical when you read with that voice
the subtle intonation, the beautiful pauses, the frightening emphasis of all that you say
all related in the softest whisper.

Ok- i dont cut myself. Wtf? Rhea- just stay out of my life affairs that dont have to do with you. And anonymous-- who i think is rhea. stfu you suck

2006-03-07T13:11:00.000-08:00

and yes, sorry, 67, for confusing you with anonymous. my bad.

Rah. Im bored.

I finnally handed in my history paper, score.

Sammie was better today. He's happy now. cool.

___
Was it more than attraction and a physical lust?
Her loins, my imagination, that first inconceivable touch
That I was planning, I mean wishing...
How embarassed I’d been if you knew what I was thinking

this inspirtation for this poem is from another one i wrote a while ago.

will somebody

will somebody climb the mountain
ask the clouds to sleep for a while
let the sun come out

ask the sun to trickle softly
weave out a silver lining
never mind the faint touch of grey

hey hey butterfuly
will you fly a while and go to the North
tell the brook who lives just a mile from here

tell her that I'll meet her
round the bend near the old chestnut tree
where the daisies droop in the shade

'cause my heart
can't live without a rainbow
anymore
'cause my heart
can't live without a rainbow
anymore

will somebody steal the fire
my desire from the ocean
ride those waves so fierce and strong

take away these lonely words
hold them close to your heart
give them the melody of your song

hey hey firefly
could you paint the sky
your shade of crimson
caress the stars when the moon is new

plead the wind to whisper softly
spell out her tender poetry
just love me lying on the dew

and my heart can't live without a rainbow
anymore
___
[Feb. 5th, 2006|10:42 pm]
Her eyes were pale when the sun hit them
Full of a vehement emptiness that comprehension
Only extends for those who look.
She held her hand on broken weapons,
A bracelet misleading her strength
And I stood still in her lost vulnerability.
If encompassed in such doubt,
May one decide to take the day
Into a peril designed for fate that even they
Cannot believe in?
Because that’s all she does anymore,
This angel with empty eyes…
As if losing a loved one, she’s lost herself
And only I notice. I’ve only loved her
But it never mattered…
I could give her the world against what she had
But she will never accept it more

PS> i suck at writing cause im angry. ack.

Dear anonymous, or as you refer to yourself, 67, copykat, cause i dont think the real 67 hates me?

2006-03-06T19:02:00.000-08:00

I would crawl in a hole and leave her alone, but she is my friend, and I'd rather not. Plus, where the hell am I going to get a hole?
___
I am completely over you.

Liar, she said. Prove it.
Can you write that across the sky with your own blood ?

Alas, I sigh. What excuse do I have ?
How do I make her understand
I am spent complete
All my blood, the fierce red blood I once had
Weeps dripping red on the walls of my room
Her name written over a thousand times

Dear anonymous Comment,

2006-03-06T12:52:00.000-08:00

Ok- ready, genious? This is MY BLOG< and i write about MY FEELINGS about MY PART OF SITUATIONS. How am I making it all about me if im only writing about how I feel. Stupid. I wouldnt write about Calynes life on my blog because that's just not what you do. Sorry your so dumb; tootles.

Sam was Sad all day. It was so depressing. I fell really badly.

i am devising grand stratagems for the summertime but no one is to know of them. they send chills down my spine, and they just might work out so i am excited enough to be a bastard and make this myopic post, after which point i shall work diligently on convincing a certain person that the stratagems are to everyone's advantage and hopefully bring them to fruition. the strategems are aimed at getting to a certain point, which coincidentally happens to be my birth day, and then after that i do not know what will happen exactly, though i have a few vague ideas. things will just be taken day by day. or more accurately, moment by moment. finally, please recall that all things said in Blogger format and online in general tend to prove entirely misleading. associate thy with stale words and temperamental proclamations if you will, though it is not recommended. chimera obscurant indeed. there's no effing this ineffable. i disappear.

Today-- sucked.

2006-03-05T19:51:00.000-08:00

Today sucked so bad. Today sucked SO fucking bad. ack.

Apparently it just-- happend. MY ASSHOLE. well, actually it kinda did, whatever.

But my moms a whore

and things with you? I dont know. I dont know at all. and her? yea right. She should hate me, and if she doesnt, which she probably doesnt, because she never does, she should, but she's to stupid to know. Its my fault, as usual. Not with my mom though, she's just stupid. Chandlers a cutie face, seeing him friday?

Re occuring feelings? I dont know, i feel like, I feel like i did when i loved you, that seems to occur for both of us at differnt times, or so you said, remember? right before. Im sorry. Maby im just feeling like that so i dont feel as slutty, or dirty? Unclean, in the words of 67. Ack, why? why does this have to happen after shit loads of good shiznick occure? UGH. i feel like takin ga shower and never coming out. ever.

you said
It was easy
for a hundred nights I bled
does your bloodgroup match
keep me warm without a fireplace
the embers of your heart burning bright
when all that is left is the night
when the air is cold and bleak
when love is aching to speak

You love me, but see here, I LOVE you.

2006-03-05T16:24:00.000-08:00

this is what i mean when i say i would like to swim against the stream of time: i would like to erase the consequences of certain events and restore an initial condition. but every moment of my life brings with it an accumulation of new facts, and each of these new facts brings with it its new consequences; so the more i seek to return to the zero moment from which i set out, the further i move away from it: though all my actions are bent on erasing the consequences or previous actions and though i manage to achieve appreciable results in this erasure, enough to open my heart to hopes of immediate relief, i must, however, bear in mind that my every move to erase previous events provokes a rain of new events, which complicates the situation worse than before and which i will then, in their turn, have to try to erase. therefore i must calculate carefully every move so as to achieve the maximum of erasure with the minimum of recomplication.

***

this is how you have changed since yesterday, you who insisted you preferred a book, something solid, which lies before you, easily defined, enjoyed without risks, to a real life experience, always elusive, discontinued, debated.

Sam's Amazingly here right now and It's happy, yea.

2006-03-05T07:01:00.000-08:00

So we didnt really make our comic. Just kidding [?]

so yea, we kinda just joked around and couldnt buckle down. oh well, it was really fun.

"Today Was Funsville" (Gelb, Laura)

2006-03-04T17:18:00.000-08:00

hehe. Saw Laura And Billy and Sam today. Sammies sleeping over, Yey.

Chandler keeps telling me how much he loves me. It's cute. Makes me happy.

Me and Sam are FINNALLY making our comic. Finnally.

More about that later

yey.

2006-03-03T15:18:00.000-08:00

downwithbush411 (6:05:12 PM): hey
sunhater412 (6:05:28 PM): uh; hi
sunhater412 (6:05:59 PM): ?
downwithbush411 (6:06:06 PM): do u like anyone?
downwithbush411 (6:06:09 PM): im just aking
sunhater412 (6:06:10 PM): no
downwithbush411 (6:06:13 PM): u dont have 2 awnser me
downwithbush411 (6:06:15 PM): ok
downwithbush411 (6:06:39 PM): im off restriction
downwithbush411 (6:06:41 PM): i can do stuff
sunhater412 (6:06:54 PM): um;cool
downwithbush411 (6:06:57 PM): i know
downwithbush411 (6:06:59 PM): im so happy
sunhater412 (6:07:05 PM): eh, cool
downwithbush411 (6:07:31 PM): i cant get over u
downwithbush411 (6:07:34 PM): i know i dumped u
downwithbush411 (6:07:37 PM): u probably
downwithbush411 (6:07:41 PM): hate me
downwithbush411 (6:07:42 PM): or something
downwithbush411 (6:07:49 PM): and i know i screwed up
downwithbush411 (6:07:53 PM): by pretending
downwithbush411 (6:07:57 PM): nothing happened
downwithbush411 (6:08:07 PM): but i still really like u
downwithbush411 (6:08:10 PM): and i was wondering
downwithbush411 (6:08:13 PM): is there
downwithbush411 (6:08:15 PM): anything
downwithbush411 (6:08:17 PM): i could say
downwithbush411 (6:08:24 PM): that would make u go out with me again
sunhater412 (6:08:29 PM): Well;
downwithbush411 (6:08:31 PM): and now that i can do stuff
sunhater412 (6:08:34 PM): What are you doing tommorow?
downwithbush411 (6:08:36 PM): we could hang out more
downwithbush411 (6:08:42 PM): dam it
sunhater412 (6:08:43 PM): :-)
sunhater412 (6:08:45 PM): ?
downwithbush411 (6:08:45 PM): any other day
downwithbush411 (6:08:46 PM): besides
downwithbush411 (6:08:49 PM): this weekend
downwithbush411 (6:08:50 PM): lol
sunhater412 (6:08:54 PM): lol
downwithbush411 (6:08:59 PM): how bout
downwithbush411 (6:09:02 PM): next weekend?
sunhater412 (6:09:02 PM): AFter school as in monday?
downwithbush411 (6:09:07 PM): hum
downwithbush411 (6:09:08 PM): maybe
downwithbush411 (6:09:12 PM): what u thinking
downwithbush411 (6:09:16 PM): a movie?
sunhater412 (6:09:19 PM): Sure :-)
downwithbush411 (6:09:24 PM): like what
downwithbush411 (6:09:33 PM): i would still have to get my dads permission
downwithbush411 (6:09:35 PM): but
downwithbush411 (6:09:40 PM): hes a lot happier with me
downwithbush411 (6:09:45 PM): then he was before
sunhater412 (6:09:57 PM): cool.
sunhater412 (6:10:07 PM): but yesh; i woul love to go on a date with you :-)
downwithbush411 (6:10:24 PM): thanks
downwithbush411 (6:10:26 PM): cause
downwithbush411 (6:10:30 PM): i still like u
sunhater412 (6:10:41 PM): cool.
downwithbush411 (6:10:54 PM): what u wanna see?
sunhater412 (6:10:59 PM): hm.
downwithbush411 (6:11:06 PM): date movie?
sunhater412 (6:11:14 PM): sure

downwithbush411 (6:11:23 PM): ill check the times its playing
sunhater412 (6:11:29 PM): cool.
downwithbush411 (6:11:42 PM): i hate my school
sunhater412 (6:11:46 PM): sorry
downwithbush411 (6:11:47 PM): we have this report
downwithbush411 (6:11:49 PM): we have 2 do
downwithbush411 (6:11:54 PM): over the weekend
sunhater412 (6:11:57 PM): that sucks
downwithbush411 (6:11:57 PM): its only 500 worlds
downwithbush411 (6:11:59 PM): but its
downwithbush411 (6:12:00 PM): like
downwithbush411 (6:12:08 PM): about this indian that no one
downwithbush411 (6:12:11 PM): has ever heard of
sunhater412 (6:12:14 PM): haha that sucks
downwithbush411 (6:12:16 PM): so i cant get any information
downwithbush411 (6:12:17 PM): ya
sunhater412 (6:12:28 PM): dude, will you be online in half an hour?
downwithbush411 (6:12:45 PM): umm
downwithbush411 (6:12:47 PM): i gotta
sunhater412 (6:12:48 PM): I have to accompany my sister to CVS for like shampoo and etc
downwithbush411 (6:12:48 PM): eat dinner
downwithbush411 (6:12:55 PM): ill go eat now
downwithbush411 (6:12:56 PM): instead
sunhater412 (6:12:58 PM): hokay
downwithbush411 (6:12:58 PM): of later
downwithbush411 (6:13:01 PM): so ya
sunhater412 (6:13:01 PM): :-)
downwithbush411 (6:13:02 PM): prolly
downwithbush411 (6:13:07 PM): no guarentees
sunhater412 (6:13:10 PM): thats hokay
sunhater412 (6:13:13 PM): so ill ttyl
downwithbush411 (6:13:17 PM): ya
downwithbush411 (6:13:19 PM): bye
sunhater412 (6:13:20 PM): did you get your cell phone back?
downwithbush411 (6:13:23 PM): nope
downwithbush411 (6:13:24 PM): that
downwithbush411 (6:13:27 PM): im never getting back
downwithbush411 (6:13:28 PM): till
downwithbush411 (6:13:29 PM): i can
sunhater412 (6:13:30 PM): whats yor hoseu number, i got a new phone so i lost it
downwithbush411 (6:13:31 PM): pay for it
sunhater412 (6:13:34 PM): house*
downwithbush411 (6:13:37 PM): ok
downwithbush411 (6:13:38 PM): its
downwithbush411 (6:13:43 PM): 283-3524
downwithbush411 (6:13:53 PM): i cant get another phone till i can pay for it
downwithbush411 (6:13:57 PM): so
downwithbush411 (6:14:01 PM): when i turn 14
downwithbush411 (6:14:05 PM): in a few more months
sunhater412 (6:14:11 PM): youll get a job and get one
sunhater412 (6:14:11 PM): cool.
sunhater412 (6:14:12 PM): i g2g
downwithbush411 (6:14:14 PM): ya
sunhater412 (6:14:17 PM): ttyl :-)
downwithbush411 (6:14:19 PM): c ya later
sunhater412 (6:14:20 PM): <3s.

I freaking hate math tests.

2006-03-03T08:48:00.000-08:00

chrysanthemums and lilac
I stole from the garden
honey from the dragon's den
honey that would sweeten
spread them on your flesh
and dabbed them on your skin
you do not have to promise
stay through thick and thin

chrysanthemums and lilac
I stole from the garden
jealous guy under purple sky
waiting for his maiden
pages flipping fast
and dinner getting cold
what cannot be bought
is a broken heart of gold

dear self: stop defensively turning painfully awkward shyness into casual disinterest.

2006-03-02T17:19:00.000-08:00

Nobody loves fantastically awkward conversations more than i love fantastically awkward conversations. <-- repeat mantra until mentally ingrained; every social encounter will thus be thrilling rather than mortifying

i recommend this method as proving wildly successful, especially with people who do not have any better reason not to do something than because the idea makes them slightly uncomfortable. LAME. discomfort is a good thing, as it means you are doing something new. [editorial note to self: apply such reasoning to social interaction skills, please]. also, it pleases me no end to see people i care for look as awkward as i feel ninetypercent of the time. a determined approach to making people do things is effective to such an extent mainly because it seems that people either a) have no stamina for disagreeing with a fiendishly stubborn person, or b) secretly relish the fact that someone would be so asinine as to make them do something they [and this is my interpretation here] probably are curious about doing but for some unknown reason lack the chutzpah to actually undertake. [i reference chutzpah instead of balls, as i myself lack physical balls yet seemingly possess gargantuan metaphoric balls, and thus chutzpah is a more appropriate and less androcentric term, if indeed chutzpah means what i vaguely recall it means].

momentary fixations
1. cheese
2. pretentious postmodern lit
3. accruing impressive clothes piles in the closet
4. sucking ricola in the shower
5. schizophrenically seeing this particular face everywhere [creepy awesome]
6. reading the dictionaries [french and english]
7. rosemary mint body scrub
8. radical dreams
9. writing long flowery love letters
10. wearing wigs

the rebel prince needs to eat more veggies, that's for sure.
and write some papers, too.
the rebel prince is gallantly writing all papers a week early so that springish break is left free to pursue as many misguided lines of action as possible. huzzah.

quotidien is the key word here.

2006-03-02T10:51:00.000-08:00

i feel like i am not even going to school. there is absolutely no academic struggle (except forcing myself to go to class and do work). what i mean to say is that there is little challenge. or inspiration.

once again, should be doing something else (starting enormous amount of history work, perhaps?) but am drawn to this infuriatingly addictive glow of my computer screen. Amana is off exercising herself to death, so at least i don't have to listen to 'america's next top model' or 'extreme dating' or what have you. basically, the most mind-numbing material possible that i feel significantly less intelligent just by unintentionally overhearing.

Was sick today so i skipped school.
my stomach couldnt handle the tantalizing suggestion of french class. french class?

tonight was one of the very few nights i felt i could muster up enough positive energy flow to have an uplifting conversation with the parentals, instead of lapsing into usual repetition of meaninless sentiments.

the world looks momentarily bleak: more hopelessly banal presentations in Music class, followed by worthless math tutoring. though...the silver on the grey grey cloud that is this thursday. more ceaseless whining. boy, what are these entries coming to? i lay all responsibility for the lack of anything interesting in this entry on the fact that i am being barraged by idiotic dialogue from some people's court show that sarah finds it necessary to watch tous les jours. i agree, Padres.-the liquor version of the tasty tasty pastry is not quite as tasty tasty as the original.

tomorrow= School. then nothing.
and this year we can celebrate...the demise of our lovely planet, compliments of the bush administration. makes me sick, it does.
So, Self--shall we go a wandering in the park tomorrow morn to enjoy some of the artificially-created greenspace? (because sadly, that is all that we can experience being stuck on longisland with no transportation to the gorgeous northern california surroundings). we must get to work on that sugar daddy business..er, make that sugar grandparents. who live in pacific heights, let us drive their mini, and make us food, goooood fooood. ahhh, fantasy. i am just revving up the imagination before i delve into full-scale day-dreaming since all the black finger polish has been picked off in previous boooooring hours.

Soup time!

Home from school sick.

2006-03-02T08:14:00.000-08:00

And it sucks SO bad because im not even sick anymore- i jus twas lastnight. And now it's a snow day for my school and I can't see Calyne or sam or rhea or Laura.
RAH.
i hate everything =[

**
i, caspian, swashbuckling rebel prince of that darkly ephemeral wasteland the thrice dead sea, do on this day hereby declare that i have, first and foremost, slain the treacherous minotaur; it lies at my feet, a crumpled rotting carcass of surpassed ancient glory. furthermore i have rescued the sweet innocent princess of the flaxen locks from the greedy talons of a pathetically lonesome dragon and restored her nearly completely intact, though missing a little toe, to her largely boresome though admittedly handsome suitor from the western lands. finally, with the help of my courageous and timelessly loyal crew, i have thoroughly disposed of the pirating force that once faithlessly haunted the thrice dead sea, and have been rewarded handsomely by the fair king of the east who utilizes the waters for purposes of shipping and leisure sailing. by the time you have received this message of my exploits, i will have taken my reward and removed myself from the merrymakings of the celebrations in my honor in order to pursue a period of solitude among the whispering natural pines near a small fishing village on an overlooked and under-appreciated island in the serene and breathtakingly sapphire waters of the eastern aegean. peace to you, my fellow adventurers, and may your lives be long, prosperous, and filled with every earthly pleasure.

I threw up again.

2006-03-01T23:52:00.000-08:00

It's 250 Am, and I threw up again. I feel better though. I hate being sick =[

I just threw up for the first time in forever.

2006-03-01T22:23:00.000-08:00

And it sucked SO fucking bad.

One small step for man, one giant step for looser kind.

2006-03-01T18:12:00.000-08:00

FearThisBMX9403 (9:01:35 PM): i see a bitch
sunhater412 (9:01:41 PM): ?
sunhater412 (9:01:49 PM): um, ok
FearThisBMX9403 (9:02:03 PM): ha the bitch is talkin
sunhater412 (9:03:00 PM): yea, your mature. byebybye bored looser face with nothing better to do then badger some chick he/she probably barely knows or hasnt seen in years while I do my homework beacuse my history teacher sucks gigantic donkey balls.
sunhater412 (9:03:04 PM): byebye.
FearThisBMX9403 (9:03:33 PM): ha you AINT NO CHICK
sunhater412 (9:03:46 PM): ps- work on the insults, bitch and gender confusion is soo overplayed and unoriginal.
FearThisBMX9403 (9:04:18 PM): you are a butt ugly chick
sunhater412 (9:04:47 PM): Oh senior !! Te es Gusta Le Tacos! iyiyiyi.
sunhater412 (9:05:28 PM): ¡De quién un retarda hoyo de asno, Usted es! usted es! Yo le apuesto encara se parece al dentro de mi VAGINA, la cara de extremo.
FearThisBMX9403 (9:05:31 PM): a fat chick too
sunhater412 (9:05:51 PM): Y extremo orgulloso e inmaduro jode.
FearThisBMX9403 (9:07:04 PM): ok bitch peace out
sunhater412 (9:07:43 PM): Adiós adiós, haz de leña de Asshole retarda quién renunció la causa im más fresco entonces él.

YES.

I make the best toasty cheese sandwiches you have ever seen, tasted, experienced

2006-03-01T17:10:00.000-08:00

Today was amazing. Happy Birthday Laura.

****
I make the best toasty cheese sandwiches you have ever seen, tasted, experienced. Unlike that american cheese horse shit, have you ever had it?
gag me!

enjoy this relation of the ordinary while i break from homeworking, the typical Wednsday night endeavor--that's how it works in this production. this morning beth and i ran in the rain. we ran the wrong way, we walked up the big hills, we got mixed up and huddled down, we picked up and took a cable car back all the way, hanging off the side all electric-tense and staring at everything with bulgey eyes like we haven't been living in this city for the past two years. like we don't go on exploration runs like these every friday. like we haven't seen it all before, because it's different now and you can never see enough. i think falling in love with someone, ideally (which is always a buggered concept from conception, heh), would be like falling in love with this city. there's always more, have you been there before? go there again and you'll find something new and more to laugh about and more to love. donkeys are like onions, cities are like onions (especially this one), people are like onions too. and we know how i loves the onions, mmm mmm. but others like not the smelly onions, so sad for me the smelliest, oh the foul stench that stings the eyes.

moving on. i have no cell phone, so i didn't send this text message, but it was sent all the same: what the fuck am i doing at usf idol? if you haven't asked yourself this at least one time in your life, please avoid ever doing so. in all fairness, there were some impressive acts. oh oh oh! here we digress a little: zoinks! there's this boy in my liberation philosophy class. he's informed and intelligent and actually cares about what's going on elsewhere in the world and actually has ideas and actually voices them. i could slip unintentionally into loving him a little just for that. or have. and hey hey he plays guitar and he sings some too and it is choice. combine any musical talent with intelligence and lack of apathy and i lay slain. bloody killer. other acts were...text-message inspiring, should we say. but free and all, what can we say?

i talked to bonnie-loo [on a phone! on a phone? yep] for a good hour and a half. i miss you bon. you even inspire me to phone conversation, at which i suck ever so fantastically. look where we are driven in deprivation. speaking of which, none of you cool cats judge me too fiercely if i relent on the instant messenger thing too...sometime soon. because all this music you guys have and are tempting me with, you smoldering temptri, will surely drive me maaaaaaaaad. and we already have enough of that problem.

post script: spectacular sunset this evening. to make you want to go swimming in the sky. check out thejiglett's (know not how to link this) post if you want to see what little could be captured by a digital camera in hasty wonder. my camera's batteries are dead dead dead. i'm not even holding services--merely waiting for procuration of rechargable batteries. heartless, no?

HAHA

2006-03-01T08:42:00.000-08:00

"my views on the existence of juliet basically consist of her like, going into space and getting sucked into a black hole and never coming back ever.she needs to like, get a major reality check. i heard that one time her dad asked her which she likes better, her hair or her clothes, and that she was all like, "i cant choose, they're just so fabulous!its like, go curl up in a corner somewhere and never ever come back. she should be like that girl in that myth last year where she challenged that goddess chick to a like sewing contest turn into a spider.and then i can squish her." (Laura Gelb)
Amazing.

HI LISA [english teacher]

2006-03-01T06:45:00.000-08:00

the future worries me none too much. granted it is vaguely terrifying considering the frightful socio/politico/economic/environmental planetary mess in general, and the frightful interpsychological mess of anyone living with a conscience in the united states more particularly, and finally the frightful mess that is my personal mind, body, and spirit in as ambiguous a specific as possible.

at least i am quite a resilient piece of work. i am in such a great funk but i do not think it shows that blatantly. there is so much internal struggle and anxiety, and it all revolves around the future, which does not of course exist. present moments are sole, but the crux is that every hypothetical futurepresent moment that i scheme for myself depends on certain dependent preparatory factors that i must undertake NOW. thus as the future is uncertain, and i can't decide what to do precisely, i feel overwhelmed with present particular commitments that are not wholehearted commitments.

English Is Boring. I hate compare contrast essays.

2006-03-01T06:24:00.000-08:00

Will somebody climb the mountain?
Ask the clouds to hide for a while and
Let the sun come out
Ask the sun to trickle softly
Weave out a silver lining
Never mind the faint touch of grey.
Last night I heard the stars tremble
When the truth was spoken
I think saw the moon shed a tear
When the bond was broken
I witnessed the desert dry up
When the china shattered
But the two weeping hearts that stayed awake the night
Were the only things that mattered
The path you said was petals and pain
The fragrance and the thorn
You walked the sun and I braved the rain
Waiting for the dawn
Denser than the mountain mist
Love lay torn and scattered
The unsleeping hearts they talked all night
Was the only truth that mattered

You're hands are shaking cold, These hands are meant to hold.

2006-02-28T11:13:00.000-08:00

Life. Is boring.
Yes, and as I sit here, watching 67 write her million page long paper [yes, paper, not essay] I wonder, how she gets the motivation she has. It's really incredible, even with the shit she has to deal with. But doesnt she get bored with life? It seems so. I mean, 67 has such intellect and superiority over everyone our age, usually anyway, that i guess she gets annoyed with people beacuse she feels superior to them. I mean, She has her flaws to. None of them being physical, btw. But they're so miniscure compared to everyone elses. It seems she's so great at everything. But I'm pretty sure she mildly hates herself, I'm not sure why. 67's just "Rolls that way," As she's said so herself plent of times.
Hm. She has a cool look on her face right now.
She's probably bored out of her mind.

Pity.

**
I've been pulling teeth
For anything I can get in-touch with
I'm an easy target
With both motive and martyr

I cling to palavar
As I ride through the subway
And look over my shoulder
Only to see myself reflected in the window

These are the things you worry about

There is no such thing as providence
As as far as I can see
Speed is what these kids can call salvation

The subtle irony comes
When they talk so fast
They bite off their own tounge

These are the things you worry about

I'm always looking back
As if one day
I won't have any regrets behind me

But everyone who passes by me is another regret

The residue in lines on the kitchen table
The cut up straws in the trash
You really can't beat it

And you've got to love it
How their eyes sink in
And they look all squirrely without the fur
And cute tail

I guess conciousness
Is my body's way of telling me
I'm here

Just like everyone elses does in some way...

There arms are so slender
You can acctualy run their tracks
The twists and tunrs would further the ironic tone of these kids
These kids who i hold such admiration for
They chase dreams
Like flying...or falling

Admiriation wasn't the right word was it...
But it will do...

I just keep thinking "What has this place done for you"
and
"Which one has gone to hell"

So between breaths I mutter anything to get me by

I've been pulling teeth
And you know what?
I still can't get in touch

Blue is the color of the sky, in the morning when we rise, that's the time I love the best

2006-02-27T17:08:00.001-08:00

quite a bit of pleasurable reading was undertaken swaddled in a blanket in the window chair during the morning hours. in honor of the birthday of the mum, i ran twelve miles in the rain instead of the prescribed eight. i spent some peculiar time on the beach. it was an overall amazing day and i don't know why i'm bothering to halfheartedly explain the inexplicable.

this week should be swell. the global women's rights forum is happenin' each evening, and international women's day is on wednesday. perschnapps i can visit the caroline on thursday, as i am getting my homework done early. the extracurricular challenge is to finish infinite jest before spring breakety is here, of whichover 900 pages remain, and also there is the buckets of philosophy reading comme toujours, which probably means no time for computsey [?] but certainly i will post any piccities if i happens to take them.

although i do not tend to like pasta much--or rather i am extra pickety concerning the meaning of al dente--i had this dream where i was eating whole wheat rotini pasta with pesto, bitsy scrambled eggs, and parmesan cheese on top. interesting, eh? so last night i gots the necessary ingredients at trader joe's and for lunch i will MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE.

dagoba organic chocolate eclipse 87% extra dark chocolate:
my favorite chocolate.

and reading calls by name.

tay cheese;
flip side mates.

I went home sick. But I'm not really sick, I just HATE Mark.

2006-02-27T10:40:00.000-08:00

Fellow Traveller

I went to the Whitewater to heal my wounds
"Your scars are too red, go to the Ocean", I was told

I went to the Ocean to drown my tears
"These undulations of your heart will frighten my waves. Go to the Cloud", I was told

I floated to the Cloud to ease my pain
"There is too much lightning in your eyes. Go to the One who put it there", I was told

So I find myself
Trudging up this wooden staircase
Recollecting the many times I have said
"This one last time"

The heavy oak door that has on
Innumerable occasions
Slammed itself boom ! on my face
How unapologetic
Today stands a servant messenger
Holding in its wedges a slip of paper
That familiar shade of yellow
That familiar cursive slant

"...Gone whitewater rafting"

oh BTW

Lets go eat soup!

ok, enough with the pleasantries. i wrote this immediately when i woke this morning.

2006-02-27T04:09:00.000-08:00

They say that time is the great healer, that subtle apothecary; they say that time heals all. They lie. I say that time festers. I say that time rots. The cut, petite scrape--now a gash, growing. Perchance will acquire a fortunate scab, admirable in its hideousness; still, still I see the angry tissues beneath, I sense the hungry turmoil. I say that time slips through the fingers, like so many grains of the proverbial sand. Elusive as the tantalizingly fleeting perfume of the pretty girl walking by on the street, the ephemeral. The moment, magical moment, excruciating moment, moment of intrigue, boredom, passion, contentment; has passed. I live a painstaking game; with my rules, I am destined to be defeated, this I know. They make me believe--the thrill of the future, the agony of the present. A simple reminder: there is no future, the present is all that exists; and I realize, it is the constant and utter agony of my life, time passed waiting, dreaming, stagnant in space. Carpe diem? Let’s not be overly ambitious with this seizing business. Think today, question today, act today, live today, love today. If I can grasp these elusive strands today, and the next today, the next, bitterness must recede. I say this all in dire anticipation, utmost earnestness. A change, I believe, is necessary. Time is an inappropriate joke; don’t laugh; let not a slight chuckle escape thine lips, lest this monstrous impostor be legitimated. We must acknowledge, confront. Let not the hours, the days, slip by. Things will change, not always for the better. Look at my broken shoulders, my hunched back, the bruises covering shins and ankles, the ragged edges of my gaze; observe the veteran. Time, the Great, has struck again.

manifest destiny, in the near future, and not quite so ridiculous
Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it
take to screw in a light bulb?

A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; its conditions are improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence are a delusional spin from the liberal media. That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effect. Why do you hate freedom?

(forwarded from mum's friend)

***

here is the plan of the century! first, background: sat outside in the coldness (under the glow of the maginificently lit church; no matter your feelings towards churches, saint ignatius is fairly stunning against a black drop of sky) watching two boys pass long balls. salivating! i was wearing my sauconys and itching, itching to get my foot on the ball.

so here: i will buy a soccer ball this weekend. i haven't played in three years. the day the doctor said no more soccer was the day i half died. how do you live with not being able to do what you love most? i may not be able to play competitively, but i am a sorry one for letting all my skills go. i think it was too painful; i just gave it up all together. but o! how i long for it again! i must be able to find someone here to play with me. normally i would have asked to join those guys, but i fear i wouldn't be able to live with whatever pathetic display of talent (or serious lack thereof) might become apparent. besides, bonnie (who played soccer with me back in the golden days and was completely fucked over when her knee also gave out, thereby ruining her chances of soccer scholarships for college) and i planned to kick the ol' ball around this summer. it has been too long! much, much too long. mmm i'm giddy just thinking about it. finding passing partners...dribbling in the park for hours...perhaps working up the juggling skills, which never fails to impress the male varieties. i can mess around with a ball for incredibly long amounts of time. a ball a ball a ball.

at city lights i saw a book entitled 'how soccer explains the world,' which explained globalization by examining the different social/political paradigms of the soccer world. because hello, america, futbol is the most amazing thing to ever hit this planet, and is by far the most popular game the world has ever known. EVER. you can't dispute it. everyone plays it everywhere, and they take it seriously. soccer as a way of life. soccer is life to so many. it used to be for me. am i only half living? i thought i was craving sex, when maybe i was just craving that particular form of physical satisfaction that only playing soccer can give me. i don't need a guy, i need a ball! luckily, this is much easier to procure. so this weekend, besides the planned adventure to the pirate store and the mission, i plan to use those little green pieces of paper that i give the illusion of despising so much to exchange for an innocuous little sphere of eternity. hand-stitched, of course!
______________
snizzlefritz!
and we are foiled once again.

i've spent the last 45 minutes attempting to make an origami swan. but i can't figure out the bloody directions from step 7 to 8. bon gave me an awesome origami book (all in japanese) for christmas. the swan is quintessential, and i must conquer it or go mad. but for now i'll move on to one of the myriad number of other options. perhaps an evil giraffe.

let's take a shower!

I want to wake up where you are.

2006-02-26T17:07:00.000-08:00

i was giving myself the rationalization peptalk to-day: it is ok if i break that promise, it was not a nice thing to have made me promise, as taking risks with my physical well-being brings me such pleasure, and additionally i hook my foot through that small gap and hold onto the beam with my right arm so it is pretty safe i think. well i thought it was a pretty good argument, and i do not break promises but perhaps it was the sleepiness of the hour because i resolved to break it and only felt a modicum of guilt about crawling up there to breath in the crispety crisp eight and a half o'clock air.

the crispety crisp air, being crispety crispety, soon forced my legs to swing back over the balustrade and saunter over to the balcony door, feeling tres risque, mouth watering for some tea. but oh, uh oh, ejection. indeed the persnickety door was both completely closed and completely locked. so-oh i crawled back up to my perch, cast a perspicacious eye around the waking city, and waited approximately one-hundred minutes--before my fingers and ears had grown numb inside my sweatshirt pocket and hood, respectively,--until i deigned to tappety tap on poor becka’s window and present my best sososorrytowakeyoubut look for when she peeked through the blinds with the appropriate whatthefuckisomeonetappingonmywindowfor look.

so i take that as a sign that i should not break a promise again.

________
ool breeze through my window
the door left half-ajar
the ground bears firm impressions
of an E-type Jaguar
the bed has come unmade now
the linen crumpled and crushed
stretchmarks on the mirror
auburn on the comb brush

who let you into my room
unwanted stranger
who let you into my room
bringer of danger

my heart was unguarded
and you walked right in
didn't even exercise that
basic courtesy of knocking
stretched across the sofa
you're the model on my easel
this last picture I am painting
then I got to catch a flight to hell

who let you into my room
unwanted stranger
who let you into my room
bringer of danger

Your hands are shaking cold

2006-02-23T10:30:00.000-08:00

HO GOOD. WHY NOT YET, WHY OH WHY. THINGS AND CLEVER REGURGITATION, THIS PARTICULAR HELLO EVERY DAY IN CLASS OBVIOUSLY I COMPREHEND, IS THIS NECESSARY!? PRETENTIOUS ALL DAY, GEEZ. YOU CAN'T THOUGH BECAUSE SPEED FOR THIS THING CALLED PERFECTIONISM REQUIRES FIVE HOURS OF DOCILE TRACTABILITY IN COMPLIANCE WITH HAL AND THE YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT GODDAMN. ME SKILLZ MANAGED TO BREAK MY AFOREMENTIONED HOPEFULLY WILL HAPPEN. THOUGH I FEEL MY THUMB SERIOUSLY A WASTE OF MY ATROPHYING HIGHEST INEVITABILITY. MY BELOVED PARIS I CAN ACTUALLY FEEL STIMULATED. FAR FROM HERE. OK SPEW NOW.

words left looking back, supremely the presence of solely alphas already a sore spot of performative conformity is killing us. learning anything we have integrity. if it is easy, WRONG we feel, but compelled we feel when we get down to take a shower. realization = this debauched funnel words into analytically intelligent bOring.left eating ginger chews. they thought it was the love of a good woman that tamed the great ape. the real truth? it was Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Strawberries.forgot i have never used before. supposed to be doubly moronic!! you makes me very sad all the "near genius!" postmodern males. groundbreaking, arcane story lines, elaborately stoic-comic romance, interpersonal masturbation, various psychadelia, pepper with soberly touching moments otherwise fucked up world, enough totally ridiculous things so that each is filled with neverbeforeencountered that make you ooozah awwwzah. others, but call it brilliant my favorite, though i decided instead a veritably decent resorting to sedating thrills to be lit. holy kickers the best part being acid. girlies seem like i met this really nice car but complication even to have any depth apparently because i am sure you like to shag an extremely predictable very good, admirable human. yet seem to engage in the orgy of crude, lame, and pretty fun. you, by excelling academically, or whatever, am setting for still i'll be the me to have shit to kinda INSPIRE LIKE MAD!!! better at starving to weave some putrescent need to visit the oracle and be told what the. negativefivehundred in the social skills, and will never possibly put my finger on.

42s Over

2006-02-23T04:45:00.000-08:00

May you live a thousand years
blessed with a hundred wives
may your tribe grow tenfold and more
overload, multiply, and thrive

May the loan shark never find you
when he ambushes your house
may you be King Jerry
in that game of cat and mouse

May all the fortunes of your in-laws
be yours forever to keep
and all the pretty damsels in town
cry only your name in their sleep

May you always have my ears
to whisper your sins and confide
may your supply never run out
of coke and diethylamide

Count the days

2006-02-20T22:06:00.000-08:00

Laconic tonic
Tonight it's low tide
Your thigh on my side
Trapped for the long ride
Tactic symptomatic
Laconic tonic demonic

Flittering pay wage
High five the street sage
Gather at the bent sign
Lamp post
Dry roast
West coast
Tenacious

He's feeling her up
He's feeling her up
He's feeling her
She's kinda uncomfortable
He's feeling her up

Day 2

Flip flop
A tired mop
Trevor moves
He gets his coffee and
Then Trevor sits by the window
Trevor leans to the left and
Trevor shifts to the right
Trevor moves
And I like to watch Trevor

Three o'clock watch stop
Skirting smokers in the alley
And kicking the wall
And turning back

Fill up foam top
Hippety hop a tired mop
Trevor is looking at me
Can I go to the bathroom now

Feeling shy of an eyelash
Please look away Trevor
I am tired
I am a mess
I am a tired mess

My two dogs
They are named Riles and Parsifal
Or Parsie for short

Day 3

I forgot to say this, but
Yesterday in the park I took a picture of an elderly couple
Sitting on a bench near the pond where my friend sails model boats
He had his eyes closed
But she was studying the sky
The clouds were particularly intriguing that day
And the sun was low in the trees

Day 4

Cinnamon cinnamon cinnamon
Today is my day so I am eating my favorite things
Grilled cheese sandwiches, scrambled eggs,
Lemonade and peppermint chocolates
All of these things are nice
But my favorite of all would have to be fresh peaches
I bought them at the market today even though they were out of season
I must say
Succulent

day 5

oh god oh god oh god
oh god oh god
oh god

I'm coming up so short

And also I lost my watch

Day 6

It is not even a week yet
And this is getting dull
I am a boring person

Maybe if I put this in stanzas
And bippity bop jazz it up a little
But no
I am a muck puddle
Muckety bo buckety

Day 7

Greg was wrong
I have learned nothing about myself
Except that I daydream too much
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck you, Greg

How sorely disappointing.

Emily's today?

2006-02-20T07:05:00.000-08:00

it is a scary, dangerous, mixed up place. you never know what to do. the only way you can make it till noon is with a black velvet tophat and satin pants. your evenings are rosied with wine that matches the blood red of a setting sun in a smoky horizon. your nights are clawing searching fingers and suffocating sheets. you choke on indecision and spit reality back onto the sidewalks. you are a stranger in a foreign land, and you probably will not find anyone who speaks your language. you cannot learn the other; you are too stupid, loser! oh it looks so sad.

until along came a spider and sat down beside her. his hairy lips were wretched. he jumped onto her neck and cried into her ear, i must remind you, friend,

homework schmomework, mates! i bought another book: a rather longish one, over 1000 pages. used bookstores will be the death of me, for most certainly it cannot be otherwise--once i enter, i must needs make a purchase. yes, death, but what a tragically beautiful and satisfying demise it shall be.

the caromonster graced me with her inimitable presence yestereve and it was fanfuckingtastic. we watched a flicketyflick, chittychatted until the weensywee hours of the morn, and then snoozed a bit so we could spend this fine february day stumbling around the peerless parks and thrifty haunts of the mission bo bisshun. cats and dogs it did pour down yesterday, so today was fresh and clear and cold. it was the particular cold where walking around is sublime, and the sun is even out a little sometimes, but your hands become increasingly chilled so that finally you could put them on the back of someone's neck and although this theoretical person would be comfortably regulated in body temperature from tramping about, your unexpectedly icy metatarsals might send a chill down their spine in a peculiar and not entirely objectionable fashion.

if you thought real hard, really screwing up your forehead and trying to pinpoint it, you might describe this past week as either

satisfying
controversial
entertaining
stupid.

[or all four]

...all of those nice substantive words, like you've been eating mildly cold porridge for all your life and just, mysteriously unexpectedly and thrillingly, found yourself at the roya feast. the most pleasant part: you invited yourself; you finally extended that personal invitation--my god we've all been waiting for this--only to discover you've been on the guestbook. for quite some time.

well, shit.

so you're up there sipping the best aged ale and making merry with the royal fam. you rub elbows with the befreckled prince, who lacks the golden curls and finely tailored suits and is thus immensely charming. you feel so warm, you forget the minnumbing irrelevence of exitence and somehow it slips your mind: the lifetime spent scrubbing drafty old towers and crumbling antechambers in mildewy solitude. everything is so colorful! everyone is so alive! your head is spinning; you're drunk with whimsy.

it was a marvelous summer evening--time for walking around the neighborhood whilst dreamily gazing at the trees and stunning remnant-clouds-of-sunset...for i was determined to fully enjoy the warm n' fuzzy effects of codeine medecine. doctor's orders.

ambling down the street, i happened upon an intriguing specimen, shirtless, watering the lawn. quel virility, tempered with the endearing quaintness of tending the greenery. also, a most-likely-his-mother woman was sitting on the porch. smiles were exchanged, the usual. then, lest i have a normal encounter with an attractive male, i apparently decided the time was ripe for a little non-traditional vocal intervention. the song: dun dun de dun. THE EVER-LOVING BLOODY WEDDING MARCH. a song which my ego, super-ego, and even id, vehemently decry as obscene; the explanation for the choice eludes me.

of course, this was a ridiculous thing to do. of course, i acknowledged this the moment after the guy turned to look at me with a rightful questioning of the eyes. chuckling to myself, laugh it off, laugh it off, o silly you, self, silly silly, is usually the best response. however. nOt when i am experiencing severe throat maladies. the phlegm caught in my throat, and it was a painfully prolonged period of body-spasming hacking as i hobbled off down the street.

so that was fun.

i've mustered up the energy to prop myself up, sit inert, and stare at a screen--an unresponsive screen, by jove. it appears you losers are not online, losers. [losers] man i'm in no state to satiate my restless weary mind with wikipedia browsing, and certainly the online physics tutorials, while very interesting, aren't going to happen. yea so mmmhmmm

hey smith, you're right--alienating people in preparation for a period of lonerdom is tough work. luckily, i'm a natural. i'm not too worried about the repercussions: you'll save time, aggravation, and semi-misdirected concerns over my sanity, while i'll fling it up and pick some strawberries at green bluff. time will pass as it tends to do, then when complacency hits i'll win you back with a crooked grin after having regained the vanished charms.

i had a pen. but more importantly, i had fingernails that could have been used to gouge my eyes out during that conversation, aka rhea for the averagely apathetic teenager, aka period of psychological torment for me. anyways, i thank myself for muscle restraint that means i can still see to type. i thank the numbness which must now thaw so i can clean the uncleane room yet untouched: read for two hours go to emilys. i rather wish...carry on.

Yesterday. An the existence of it.

2006-02-20T05:07:00.000-08:00

I CAN do anything i want, it doesnt mean i WHILE< or you SHOULD< i know you COULD be reading this and mocking it, but you shouldnt. and if you are, you shouldnt go tell someone. I know it CAN an probably IS a 3 way call when im talking to you about somthing, but i dont care cause i usually trust that person enough to think that its private. and if it isnt, then id rather just not be told it wasnt.

Sammie makes everythnig better.

THamuel-- is really the greatest person EVER> if you think about it really hard. And id do anything for him, so, if you even say his fucking name, ill get MY crew [ me and my multiple personalities ] and beat your mother fucking ass.

there are secrets in the garden
of which people may not know
dig up six feet into your past
and fill the shadows of tomorrow

when the wind blows you keep quiet now
travel west as the crow flies
don't you jump in with some stranger
read the song in between the lines

why why
did you have go and tell him
couldn't keep three thoughts
to yourself for a day
look now
where you got us headed
the ball's in motion
and the the price you have to pay

told you not to come here
but you came of your own accord
the only path out's through the graveyard
god speed

the misty taste of moonshine
grows bitter after the dance
who you once thought was on the other side
now seems like your only chance

why why
did you have go and tell him
couldn't keep three thoughts
to yourself for a day
look now
where you got us headed
the game is over
and the the price you have to pay

what a time it's been
times together and
times alone
what a time it's been
you should've known better

there's someone beneath the window
come on get down onto the floor
there's movement in the hedgerow
make your way through the trapdoor

and when you cross the border
take a ferry to the other side
remember to spread the good word
and don't you
forget the joyride

why why
did you have go and tell him
couldn't keep three thoughts
to yourself for a day
look now
where you got us headed
the song is over
and the the price you have to pay

Yey

2006-02-19T10:02:00.000-08:00

Going to Smithaven seeing my 'peeps' there [Torie and people]
Cool =]

BOREDOMzorz

2006-02-19T09:20:00.000-08:00

pamper your sleep
on a Sunday afternoon

mellow strains
of your neighbour's pain
drifts into your room

your staple friend
newspaper for company
Sunday afternoons never bring anything
lonely longing and agony

Wow; I was blown off.

2006-02-18T11:29:00.000-08:00

those disco balls cause seizures in my eyes
as the deafening music kills all senses
i think i’ve learned my life long lesson
jumping onto band wagons aren’t wise

We are going to my house today.

2006-02-18T05:48:00.001-08:00

Rejoice;
I want domimoes =[

I had a cool dream-
Twas like-I was at fat camp, and i was hanging out with like, franchesca? and then like my mom started playing the flute for some, reason i left. ANd I went onto the grassy nole, which is at camp, and like, the grassy nole is a feild with a nole (hill), so yea, for some reason we were shooting eachother wiht arrows, like, me and other kids, and i started fistfighting some chick until i relized her socks said THE N on them which is my faVORITE tv station so i stopped. and then i was like, inside, and i was with david, and is tarting making out with him, and he got upset for some reason, and hten he left, and then i saw this really hot kid, and i was like hey whatsup, and he was like hi?, and i was like, how was your night, and he was like quite, and i was like, me to, and hes like, maby we shoudl go out then and im like, ok? like LIKE LIke shutup. and then we went to this mall and ate icecream and went to my room and like hhad sex or somthing, i dont remember, cause i woke up.

Im such a good story teller.

hehe NOPE> :)

We are going to my house today.

2006-02-18T05:48:00.000-08:00

I think I give up.

2006-02-17T23:37:00.000-08:00

Maby 67 was right. Maby I Can't be their friend. Maby it was enevidable when she "came into this 'picture'"
I dont know
I think i need a break. From .. "THem"

I might see david on Sunday. I hope.
He's really mellow. It helps me think,I guess.

IUN-- calyne little brother, is sleeping behind me on their couch. HE's moaning or somthing. WHatever.
I dont wanna be here. i dontdontdontdontdontwwant to be here.
DONT>

and no ones online.
well-- its almost 3 am.
whatever.
i give up on writing.

I think,
NO ONE reades my poems-- i like them. No, i dont usually. I dno if its worth it. 67 commented on one once way back. i really liked it. APparently she did to :)

I hate everything.

At Calynes :\

2006-02-17T23:31:00.000-08:00

Avoiding the sex thats continuosly been going on downstairs for like 2 hours.

PS-- i wasnt exactly sleeping. So i came upstairs.

whose fault

fundamental question one
I have for you

if you are going to be standing
by the road with
that hairdo
that skintone
that figure
those lowers

is it the bicycle's fault
that it hit the lamppost
sold its rider to gravity
whose luscious lips bled
to etch upon the concrete
an irregular shape, approximate
to that of a human heart ?

The world owes me an apology for being so stupid and boring.

2006-02-17T06:26:00.000-08:00

Ocean's Dark

Days stretch uncertainly
into a future unloved by me.

The distance between us
makes every bright street
appear an alleyway:
dark, empty, grimy.

Where am I but adrift?
Lost in emptyness,
black and everlasting
as The Ocean at night.

How painful is it to
sit beachside and watch
sunset's last light fade
beyond Horizon's Edge,
unsure it will ever rise again.

GO AWAY.

2006-02-17T04:00:00.000-08:00

"What have you given me ?"
The earth asked the tree
"Shade", and the tree withered

"What have you given me ?"
The bird asked the sky
"Expanse", and the sky crumbled

"What have you given me ?"
The lover asked the loved
"Meaning", and love died

You're stupid and so is the whole world.

2006-02-16T19:01:00.000-08:00

I am heartless.

2006-02-16T17:48:00.000-08:00

So please leave me already

I hate the way I don't hate you, not at all, not even a little bit

2006-02-16T17:04:00.000-08:00

Potential Bodily Endangerment as an Effervescent High, a.k.a. A Delusional Means to Immortality through Commonplace Irrationality, is an experience I, plural, savor on a daily basis. The means to this delight are a restless body and an aching head. Discarding tormented desires to be a prolific writer [of quality], I have decided to become a prolific walker [of quantity]. The quality of a walk, an ENTIRELY subjective matter, is exclusively determined by an endless combination of a) the music one listens to in one’s headphones [though let it be noted that the preferred device be not an iPod, that insidious instant emasculator adopted by mass culture], b) the distance one traipses [the longer and more physically draining, mentally liberating, the better], c) the randomly beautiful extraordinary-in-the-ordinary sights one witnesses, and d) the foolishness and dangerousness of the entire endeavor. Last but never least, the foolishness and dangerousness of the entire endeavor is of utmost import. It is this element which elevates a normal walk to a sweet little exercise in transcendence.

I am using correct punctuation and capitalization, and co-currently am laughing at self for being the most friendly & caring heartless bastard self has ever met. Silly, silly self. Letting non-platonic hands hold self's shoulders, letting non-platonic hands hold self's own hands, and finally, letting non-platonic hands rest on self's upper thighs for two hours, are all VERY BAD THINGS self, right??

"Holy shit" is quite a unique term. It is one of the most satisfying exclamations of surprise that can be uttered, as long as it isn't overused on trivial events. It's a way to come to grips with the fact that something surprising or extremely fucked up just happened. It is a vulgarity which may be inserted into an unusual situation which allows the utterer to express just how surprised he is at whatever is going on. It's quite a curse, and will probably conjure up various blasphemous images if it's meaning is contemplated. (God shitting? A priest blessing a pile of feces? What kind of heathen bastard would think up such a phrase?! Christ on a crapper, I hope he was ashamed of himself.)

While "Holy shit!" is not as versatile as "fuck" or the standalone version of "shit", the presence of the word "Holy" implies that it isn't meant to be. According to Webster_1913, one of the meanings of "holy" is "reserved from common or profane use". "Holy shit" is not like other swear words; it is not meant to be worn out by constant use. We can insert all the fucks and shits into our conversation that we want, but "holy shit" is set apart, goddammit! It is meant to be reserved for an event which demands its usage. It should be savored like a fine wine in the moment after a strange event has occured. Depending on the situation, it can be used in different ways.

In the case that something which poses immediate danger to oneself or those nearby has occured:

(A family is having a picnic in a park, when a pride of lions comes rushing at them)
Mother: These are mighty good sandwiches, if I do say so myself!
Father: Yep yep yep! HOLY SHIT! LIONS! RUN!

In the case that something really bad has happened:

Person 1: Did you hear? California was just eaten by giant worms!
Person 2: Holy shit! That's horrible!

In the case that someone has said something incredibly stupid:

Person 1: Look, after what Saddam Hussein did to the World Trade Center, I don't see how we COULDN'T invade Iraq.
Person 2: Wow. Holy shit. Just......wow. Holy fucking shit.

When something really disgusting happens:

(Dick Cheney is delivering a speech on national TV, when he suddenly strips naked in a frenzy, revealing that he's a hermaphrodite)
TV Watcher: Yeah, so I was telling my wife (glances at TV) HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? ARGH! EW...! NO!

There are situations where you just can't complete the utterance of "Holy shit". These situations often involve your death, and should be avoided.

*

ruminating on wanting someone new in my life, i decided it was true. i do. friends and companions and lovers are old news [not the ones i already have; i'm talking future possibilities here]. i want an enemy. a worthy adversary. a nemesis. i have enemies like misogyny, inequality, racism, capitalism, ignorance, intolerance, hypocrisy--that's fine for the abstract, but i'm feeling greed for the concrete. it should be a match of wits, a tour de force on each half. a challenge. our bloodstreams will simultaneously boil, but there will be no name-calling back-stabbing face-making petty engagements. there will be a short distance and the electricity of two cool, calm, calculatedly confident opposing forces. i don't want to stay up feverish nights pining for the elusive gaze of a sweet young thing; i'd like to stay up feverish nights plotting my soul into movements, great feats of the imagination and intellect, that transcend the lines between deity and humanity. i could perhaps perchance maybe possibly immortalize myself through the grandeur of egalitarian companionship, but if only for the sake of cultivating madness-that-breeds-genius, i'd momentarily prefer an enemy. a worthy adversary. a nemesis. throw me a bone here, life. throw me a goddamn fucking bone.

*

i may currently resemble nothing more than a festering sack of dog feces left in the sweltering july heat. fine. our only option? spontaneous combustion. yes, that is right; brilliant. of course you know that the bland little crunchy things called corn flakes were invented by this sad little man in order to kill the sex drive. also, some people like to eat their own cum as a type of fetish. apparently it is an especially wonderful thing for these people to eat it with cornflakes. o you silly cum-eating wankers! how clever.

it's always fun to rediscover that my dormant vindictive nature is, like, the best motivation ever.
in fact, this "blog" is beside the point. kittycorner to the point, perhaps. sometimes the point borrows a cup of sugar, but right now: no. goodbye.

I really don't want to go to Calyne this weekend.

2006-02-16T15:20:00.000-08:00

But I'm being forced.
IM NOT FUCKING MAD AT ANYONE THAT ISNT MYSELF OK FUCKINGASSHOLES.

I guess going over this weekend will keep my mom off my fucking back.
I wish we didnt have vacation. Then I wouldnt have to sit home all day or go see my not friends.
Ick.

I really wish I didnt have to go tommorow.

I miss my friends, but I dont care.

2006-02-16T14:24:00.000-08:00

I hope my mom doesnt wonder why im not with them all the time anymore. OF course she will. Cause the world hates me.

In my wooden rooms,
I feel like plastic and metal.
My eyes are rusting.

*

The walls are expanding
Under my fingers
On the way down the hall
To start another empty day
In the living room.

I hope I get hit by a really big bus.

2006-02-15T17:22:00.000-08:00

i am already forming calluses, and it is the best kind of pain. it is only days until i perfect the fingerings and angst-ridden flighty lyrics of my first masterpiece. it is only weeks before i perform this for the victim of my choosing, who will immediately fall desperately in love with my talented person. it is only weeks and one half that loverboy's friend will talk to his girlfriend who knows a guy and i am there singing and strumming in front of a small group of chillers in a dark coffee house, thursday night. it is around this time that the my unique acoustic stylings and the haunting quality of the chills induced by my performances will begin to circulate, word of mouth, among those whose job it is to know. about, and where, and when. and they will find me and oh they will love me. they will love me this much more because their polo-collared acquaintances will not have heard of me. and, being as i am, they suspect that these people will not hear of me for quite some time. definitely enough time for my new fans to see me five to seven times live, enough time for them to buy my awkward first cd too. then you will see them around and they will be wearing my tee-shirts. my tee-shirts will hug tight little anorexic girl and boy bodies and they will bear haphazard screenprints in somber colored fabrics. the bizarre, yet emotive designs will engender jealous feelings of elusive authenticity and originality in the hearts and minds of passers-by. the have-nots will rue their comformity within the great beast of consumer society, and will bite their anemic fingernails in antipication of the day when i visit a town near them so that they may stand next to the stage, sing all my words, buy my apparrel in sizes befitting an infant, and hopefully achieve the purpose of the concert--picking up a brooding someone in jazzpants. hopefully i can facilitate all this before i sell-out and you can buy my cd, $9.99 wallmart rollback. it is then we can speak of the glory days, and how it all went down from here, the moment i formed calluses.

____
oh damn, of course, we are terminally ill. how to savor these days? emphatically, not making love to a screen. i hate computers, i hate them. no fraternizing with the enemy, yo. this is a sad little existence, sitting in front of a screen listening to music. vanity is flattered and i decay from the inside out. i'm transferring the computer music to cds so i don't have to drown myself in betabile. megabile. sick! i'm reverting to the status of delightful computer-hater. i don't fear them, people, i hate them. i like doing stuff with my hands, yo. hey, we ask--not in question form--why are young people so silly. see, this makes sense, right: take my supple young arms, here, society, and tie them behind my head; these legs? strap the bastards to weeks of sitting all docile and train my eyes to desire only flitting stimuli, my mind? trap it in thinking that this is the best life. well shit, i think not. jigs and i wanna boheme it up in nyc after graduating; me thinks the parentals will be happy i might not move to france [or cuba--wantsta visit cuba aussi] right away. retirement is a waste, fuckers! for one, it's gone to shit, for two, doing stuff when sixty is kinda not like doing it when twenty-two, and i speculate safely here. if i ever find a nest egg, i am smashing that motherfucker. waste o' my time and worry [and time]. there's not much time, i'm dying fools, and there are more important ways to get high.

***

ay, people still say i'm crazy. i scare them, i make them nervous, but they want me around. i am fiercely loyal. you trust me even when you do not trust me, for i am the ally.

**

when i feel like this, alls i want to do is soak myself in sweat. because of brother tattoo, i can't sweat for another week; goddamn. when this is over, i'm whipping myself, a physical flagellation. have you seen a greek statue? when i get fierce i get like that. nowsabouts i'm a puddle of flesh; weak. i can't handle this shit for long. gotsta get to.

*

love, and time to pop some metamorphical ecstasy, i am yours truly, always,

here & gone

SOUL

2006-02-15T16:41:00.000-08:00

lashes lick at my skin
taste there brush across my lips
let them linger on my neck
leave them at my naval
Leave them there forever
sex?
this is our pleasure
fingers snaked through your long hair
longer than you like
but I like it
Golden shimmer framing celery windows
the only glimpse
the only glimpse
the only glimpse inside
nothing betrays
But those eyes
healthy feild after a rain
a storm
a terrible terrible tropical storm
But I am the first aid
here to plant the flower
sex?
You are is all the pleasure I need
________________
blossoms

cloth of love we once wore
now a showing at the seams
jar of life we once shared
full of empty dreams
seven years of together
slowly withered away
the sapling that we planted
blossoms and here to stay

I got a myspace message.

2006-02-14T16:51:00.000-08:00

Hey Michelle,
It's Alyssa Seal. I know you probably can't forget me, because I was such a bitch to you in 6th grade. I wanted to write to you to apologize for that. I know it took me a really long time to do so, and I apologize for that too. You're probably not going to forgive me, nor are you going to change your opinion that I'm a fat, ugly, poser, bitch. I don't care, becaus I think so too. I just want you to know how truly sorry I am that I was such a bitch. It was really fucked up that I treated you the way I did, especially since you were so nice to me. I saw how hurt you were that day, and I don't know what it was in me that didn't care. But I do now. I know that this apology doesn't make up for anything I did. I know that you may not forgive me. You may just roll your eyes, delete this message, and go on with your life; forgetting about everything you just read. I'm not asking for anything more. I'm just asking for you to realize how truly sorry I am, and how I realize what a horrible person I am for treating you the way I did.

Sincerely,
Lyssa

I should right a book.

2006-02-14T13:06:00.000-08:00

Correction. I feel like I am writing a book.I wake up, go to school, see my friends, ext. And it's not like my lifes redundant or anything, it's just i dont feel like it's real. It's weird.
Maby im in an altnerate universe, and none of you really exist. Maby i was captured by aliens. The aliens have a sick sence of humor--and bad taste in food. sept' pizza.

I dno though, It's sounds stupid, but I've actually pondered the fact that maby Im the only one in the world, how do I know im not in a coma right now experiencing this an din 2 days I'll wake up and be an 74 year old cancer patient from Japan?

I dno. Doesnt seem worth it to think about it.

On the other hand--
Happy Valentines day world.

i miss those lives we use to live
living like being together would be the only way.
well now it's gone
maybe I'm still here
but not for long

Don't worry It'll fine
we'll all leave
go our seperate ways tonight
all good things come to an end
but the end never came so fast

faster than our speeding night rides
faster than the toxins invading our brains
faster than our laughter
faster than our crazy night walks
Too fast
We used all of our agility
Too quick
We need to work on our stanima
For next time

It's almost like the only class we have is history.

2006-02-14T10:42:00.000-08:00

Thrill me for today Love
For tomorrow may not be
All that we had hoped for
Around corners we can’t see

Find me now with empathy
I’ll seep into your soul
Feel the Love I have therein
I want it to be known

And when our time has ended
An eternity away
Revel for the joy we’ve shared
Regret the games we’ve played

Love brings such excitement
While time on earth exists
So when we are together
Keep the sweetness of our kiss

Valentines Day.

2006-02-14T04:02:00.000-08:00

I love Valentines day?!
cha. I love it. It's the
cute holiday. Even if i am 'single,'
I still love it.
I havent been without Calyne in 6 days. Jejoice.

I have simple dreams

I dream of you
Grumbling, standing by the red-earth road
That leads from the rear porch of our house
To nowhere in particular
Stuck with a watering-can in your hand
Sprinking the lillies

How I sometimes love that deep grudging look on your face
Lasting testimony of how you will do anything for me
Even sacrifice Sunday morning sports TV

I dream of simple things
Nothing fancy or grand
No shades of pink
No dark prince on a white horse
No bed of roses, no thorns either
Sitting on the porch on Dad's old wicker chair
Buried in the Sunday morning sudoku
The cat dangerously close to the china
Tea-cup idle and cold on the floor

I do not dream in technicolor
I have simple dreams

42 is sitting next to me.

2006-02-13T10:35:00.000-08:00

We dont have any problems.
Sometimes I think we're perfect.
We are really in love.
But we have some problems.
Money is our biggest problem, isn't it?
theres just not enough.
Then theres distance.
Why did we have to be born so far apart?
Then theres time.
Theres just to much of it.
If only I could trade time for money
and then we'd trade money for distance.
and then our problems are fixed right?
it seems like everything will come together
through this spectacular exchange.
Then we'll exchange love through our lips
and we'll have everything in our kiss.
but we'll always have one problem.
The biggest problem for us
is me.

candlelight romance--When the winds blows out the flame. Does it survive still?

2006-02-12T20:23:00.000-08:00

Calyne fell asleep. Its 11:15-- for the record. Still love her though :-*

Bleh.

2006-02-12T12:14:00.000-08:00

I took a shower. WHENEVER I LEAVE THE ROOM 42 CALLS 49. RAWR> so i left her be. So now im bored. and 42s talking to 49. EHK< its been like an hour. I wanna make a snowman.
maby my mom will make one with me :)

we rid ourselves of each other
walking through moon sand
river bottom
stories will someday
speak of our our wounds
how were we able to be one?
walking hand in hand made sense
of our own love language
that healed
earth and each other
maybe we will meet again
on the sun, our hands
sifting the seperation beast

SnowSnowSnow.

2006-02-11T20:16:00.000-08:00

Toay-- was a great day.
Melissa came over with 42. She was a druggy, possible slut, and an alchoholic addicted to ciggarretes and its all she ever talked about. I couldnt deal with her, she went home. Me and 42 got Mocha Cappacino Blasts and danced.

Way I am feeling- Closure[ded?]

I feel like a new person. I feel like i shed the past an all there is, is the future.

I feel renewed. I feel like eating ice cream.

42 feel asleep [what else is new]

67 was freaked out by me cause i called her an flipped on about how happy i was.
67... teh amazing.

I wish it would snow more. I wish 42 would wake up and mae a snowman with me.

42s sleeping over again tommorow. Rejoice.
We are- going to the dinosaur museum. Getting Bawlz [energy drink] at East Enders, Going to teh Aquarium. Seeing a movie in Mattituck, eating steak, watching 10 things i hate about you on Comedy Central.

Cool Beans.
I miss 49.

Was going to go to Melissa's, but the world was existant. So I'm going there next week, and seeing Calyne today.

2006-02-11T08:47:00.000-08:00

please throw me a biscuit
said the begging dog
how about some caviar
mocked the spellbound frog

harrumph said the doggie
deep down did he know
one day the tables would turn
the sun would melt the snow

for he was the chosen one
prince turned into a dog
evil witch wants ransom
evil witch with a hog

prince he was oblivious
to the frog's condition
she herself a princess
of the finest tradition

spellbound by the shaman
princess pretty sweet
spellbound by the shaman
shaman full of greed

they sat together on a swing
by the winter park
until all that covered them
was the evening's dark

drank from each other's cup of stories
tales of struggle and strife
tales of when they went through hell
but mistook it as life

hungry, spent and starving
the frog was the first to say
do you think we can raid the bank
before the break of day

you could pay off the evil witch
and I the shaman guy
what do you say doggie
ain't it worth a try

sat the doggie thinking
if I were to break in
break the laws of society
then we both get to begin

this new life calling us
calling with verve and joy
this dog's life ain't worth it
only if I could carry out the ploy

soon the mist descended
the night she arrived slow
the half-eaten moon juxtaposed
overhead in full glow

what happened thereafter
i am sworn to secrecy
if you ever come to know
'twill surprise you intensly

I am thinking.

2006-02-11T07:39:00.000-08:00

I am thinking that it's to fucking early and I want to go back to sleep but I cant.

"Your poems arent meaningless"[Calyne]

2006-02-10T08:08:00.000-08:00

repeat it a few more times
maybe truth will spring from lies
encircling everything
but i can see through

repeat it a few more times
maybe someone will fall for your lies
but i will see through
see the real you
the liar
always lies

repeat it a few more times
so i can feel the warmth inside
when someone falls for your lies
and i saw through
saw the real you

it will make up for the time
when i fell for your lies
couldn't see through
blinded by you

the liar
always lies.

Sucky poem because English is boring.

2006-02-10T06:21:00.000-08:00

Morning shows the day
Tell me what holds, pray
Can I for myself fend
Whatever lies around the bend

Morning glory, hello
Would you like some jello
Your sandwich bread is stale and dry
Got some dewdrop, give it a try

There comes the sun, dressed up and tie
Morning vitamins will fortify
Drooping existence that you call life
Payments in cash for the sins of night

Will I make it or will I not
Battles hard won and profits ill got
Eighty-one monsters that I fought
Slayed them buried under your bed

What was I doing by your bed?
I hear you asking in your head
Why did you wake up with a start?
Meet the new tenant of your blessed heart

I had to write this essay for english. Here it goes.

2006-02-09T19:58:00.000-08:00

Michelle Miller
Is Utopia Possible?

"Peace will not come out of a clash of arms but out of justice lived and done by unarmed nations in the face of odds."(Ghandi) Ghandi believed that utopia was not possible until worldwide peace was achieved, which I don’t believe is feasible. Since mankind and even animal kind has existed, individuals have competed. In ancient times, when that competitiveness escalated, it became a conflict between individuals and sometimes progressed to even group warfare. Although in those times most conflicts were over essential necessities, since most confrontations between nations in recent times is over money, wealth, and land. I believe present day humanity is going backwards in the evolutionary process, eliminating any potential for utopia.

Personally coming from a Jewish family, I have been exposed to teachings that speak of a messiah who has yet to come. That messiah will be the savior of the Jews. Only in this case he is accompanied by a group of supporters, who are predicted to one-day take the Jewish people away to a divine place. “And David my servant shall be king over them; and they shall all have one shepherd. They shall also follow my judgments and observe my statutes, and do them. And they shall dwell in the land that I have given to Yaakov my servant, in which your fathers have dwelt and they shall dwell there, they and their children, and their children's children forever; and my servant David shall be their prince forever. Moreover, I will make a covenant of peace with them, it shall be an everlasting covenant with them, which I will give them; and I will multiply them and I will set my sanctuary in the midst of them forevermore. And my tabernacle shall be with them: and I will be their God and they will be my people. Then the nations shall know that I am the Lord who sanctifies Israel, when my sanctuary will be in the midst of them forevermore.” (Ezekiel 37:24-28.) Although I am impartial to the following writings, I do not believe that a savior will one day come, bringing only Jewish people to “the holy land.” The Jewish people have their own idea of the utopia; however, so does every other culture, religion, and person in the world. How can utopia be achieved if every ones definition of utopia is different?
I would have to say my definition of utopia is similar to Ghandi’s. I believe you need to rid the world of money, inequality, prejudices, war, and possibly religion. Unlike myself, many people believe utopia is possible for animals, and possibly humans for short periods of time. Although it may be possible for animals to achieve utopia by living off the land and only what they need, they cannot attain this feat co-existing with humans. Humans have technologically evolved with computers, buildings, money, and financial institutions. Nonetheless, does this really help the world reach Utopia?

Money is a major part of the world today. The world revolves around money, and what money buys: food, water, a house, a car, clothes, ipods, and ext. I believe the quest for even more money will be the downfall of humanity. Also called greed, this takes from the poor, gives to the rich, and makes daily subsistence unreachable for millions throughout the world. It is the source of poverty, starvation, many diseases, and most wars. If utopia is world without violence, how can we avoid carnage with the triumph of greed? The lethargy of the present day world refrains us from ridding ourselves of the money, because no one would be willing to work for free. Since mankind runs on money by selling, working, buying, ext., he would no longer have the need to work for the money to by daily supplies, and probably sit at home expecting others to do it. Yet if everyone in the world expected others to do the work for him or her with no reimbursements, nothing would ever get done, leading the earth to its demise.

“Nonviolence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind. It is mightier than the mightiest weapon of destruction devised by the ingenuity of man.” (Ghandi.) World peace is impossible due to money, greed, and many other flaws of mankind. We, as unified people, are destroying the earth, and making it impossible for a utopia to exist. We have taken a path that leads to a dead end, and can only end in farther destruction. Unless we do something about It and fast, a future utopia is extremely unlikely.

Your mother.

2006-02-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

i think we got somewhere today
although where, i'm not sure.
so says my positivist

but you look kindof sour today.
i think you need a little sun.
so says my psychologist

i know you don't feel like looking at the sun,
but i know you will because you care about me.
so says my determinist

we can look at it together, alone.
we really are alone you know.
so says my existentialist

we are only in your head anyway,
all you have to do is think and it's there,
everything you want.
so says my subjectivist

there's nothing really there,
for all we know there could be chocolate there.
so says my solipsist

all you have to do is
do something
it's quite simple, really it is.
so says my darling anarchist

i will spend all day long ruminating on what i shall commit to. i will meditate and read a book and do some homework and take a shower and go for a walk and listen to some music and eat some food and talk to my parents, and all the time i will be thinking critically and intuitively about what i must commit to today. whatever i commit to will remain truthful for the rest of the years of my existence, however long they may be. i have some vague ideas of what these things will be, but i am not yet certain. i don't know how much my lifestyle will change because of it, but it is certain to change forever in at least one small way. perhaps no more a change than is experienced, even imperceptibly, when you meet a new person for the first time and perhaps spend time with the person but perhaps not. or even when you are awkward with a cashier at the local CVS pharmacy and your friend laughs at you. things change.

I dyed my hair blue.

2006-02-09T05:57:00.000-08:00

Things are ok now.

2006-02-08T10:49:00.000-08:00

what do you want
asked the model of the mirror
looking her sharp and straight in the eye
you have made it big love
page three and how
when do I get a share of the pie ?

what do you want
asked the river of the ocean
what more can I bring before I go away
nothing, just sit by me love
you've brought me enough sweet pain
what if I just asked you to stay ?

what do you want
asked the ink of the paper
so much already written across you
spill deep into me love
quench these margins, parched and empty
they've waited all these years for the True

At 42's.

2006-02-08T07:38:00.000-08:00

I dont understand why 42 and 49 cant take a fuckin break from sex when im over. ehk. i cant wait until this weekend. Seeing Melissa. She isnt all asdhjkasfhkjsfd, i guess. I havent seen her in like, 2 years. This should be interesting.

Naked Party.

2006-02-08T05:53:00.000-08:00

Me sam and calyne had a naked party. Really own Sam And Calyne, I felt to kinda ehky. Oh well. We're watching 10 things i hate about you. i love this movie. We watch it every fuckin 5 seconds.
THe world owns.

We have doc lab TWO PERIODS in a row. So I was reading an article on the "WAR ON TERROR" with iran or some shit because WW2 is just so, pointless.

2006-02-07T10:39:00.000-08:00

Her eyes were pale when the sun hit them
Full of a vehement emptiness that comprehension
Only extends for those who look.
She held her hand on broken weapons,
A bracelet misleading her strength
And I stood still in her lost vulnerability.
If encompassed in such doubt,
May one decide to take the day
Into a peril designed for fate that even they
Cannot believe in?
Because that’s all she does anymore,
This angel with empty eyes…
As if losing a loved one, she’s lost herself
And only I notice. I’ve only loved her
But it never mattered…
I could give her the world against what she had
But she will never accept it more.

if discussing with silly people who are overly concerned with national security and ensconced within a little ignorant shell of unsubstantiated fear, it is helpful to remind them that iranian missiles could not reach the unites states. they could reach israel, sure...but then you get into the what-are-we-doing-in-that-whole-thing biznas, which is pretty sticky too.

i hate to talk about politics with people and avoid it at all costs, but no shit, some guy actually brought up iranian terrorism as a threat to the u.s. BESIDES how ridiculous his argument was to begin with, where would we go if we were to encounter a veritable threat? um gee. i can think of a little no-brain-required strategy. emphatically: DO NOT GO TO WAR WITH NATIONS IF YOU DESIRE FRIENDLINESS FROM THEM. international terrorism was on a substantial decline before the iraqi war began. if one more person mentions terrorism in that certain catch-phrase rationalizing way that can only be used by the truly moronic, i am going to jump on them and tickle them to death. for being so silly. ugh.

Also, WTF is up with world war two?
Ok, so GERMANY, not to be confused with JAPAN, bombed EVERYONE, and we didnt have a bomb. Then the war was over and Japan took down some of our planes beacuse they didnt want to believe the war was over beacuse they were supersticious. So we bombed them just beacuse we had a bomb?
The world is boring--and not cool at all.

Utopia isnt possible. Dumbass.

Introduction: 99.

2006-02-07T09:49:00.001-08:00

67 and 99 fought.Dont know the details so i wont get into it.
i love them both though.

RAMBLE RAMBLE RAMBLE< somtimes I feel vaugely like another person, like maby im two people in one. M.P.D-You're turning into your father.

2006-02-06T16:33:00.000-08:00

this was a damned good week. my entire body ached. i talked to strangers. my mouth spouted less than the stupidest things possible. i argued in class. my pencil hand twitched. i danced. my inner thighs burned. i walked two hours in darkly pouring rain. my icy butt cheeks numbed in my plastered pants. i ate strawberry ice cream. my lymph nodes swelled. i read some short stories. my brain buzzed. i ran for an hour. my thoughts floated out of my head and hung themselves on trees in the park. i played in the waves. my toes solidified with resolve and beseeched my ankles and calves to do the same. [tomorrow] i will sleep over calyne house with sam and possible yvie. my insides chitter with anticipation.

-for a day, i am a floatsam sea of particles, the ratio of air between my pieces of self so substantial that you cannot see me. i'm so loose i'm invisible, the technical extension of extreme translucency, and the bonds of my identity are so flexible that i don't feel the need to eat nor the need to sleep. i start walking. temperature isn't really a worry even though i'm naked in a winter rain. if anything, my chameleon skin feels slightly cool, with a tingle, like someone i trust just ran an ice cube over my back. my limbs and especially my knuckles are tensile when i flex them, nothing there and still elastic strong.

while i focus on the empty space of feeling i try affirming that i am more than the sum of my parts, and that doing things invisibly holds the same, or greater, satisfaction than doing them publicly. as it once was, and may be again, if sufficiently felt in the mind, or belly, or loins, or wherever is most convincing.

when i start walking i start walking north. when i walk down geary i do not have to remember to wait until arguello to cut over, because if i cut over too early it is not too early; my particles neatly pass through the respectable living quarters of the passively overpriced house where the crossing street should have been. when i walk down clement i am not forced to doggedly slow my pace to match the sluggish flow of pedestrian traffic, because if there are hoards of tottering old women blocking the route and preventing my swift escape they are not blocking the route and i can still escape with unusual alacrity; i glide through their little tweed-jacketed backs while satiating myself with the permeating aroma of miso and pho and pizza and indian spice. when i reach the bridge i walk directly between the lanes, facing death repeatedly a whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh cars slam through me with a moment's blending and then dissipation, i am as whole as whole is, again. as this gets old i move over to the side, where i repeat the game but this time it is the sleek blade of rubber tires and bicycle frames which slice me down the center before disappearing out my back. i stare down the riders as they approach as they stare me down intently not knowing i am there. these two hard gazes get exponentially closer until they meet for a flash, iris to iris, and then pass through and are gone.

when i reach marin i am tired of the cars but i am taking the direct route, no time on this particular day for sculpting my buttocks for making my hamstrings quiver with walking up and down those initial miles of hills. i leave the road and walk through them, right through the hills, and though it is musty dark damp soft earth encasing and in my hairs while i pass through them, on the other side my particles bounce back like it never was, on the other side just the same. when i meet the first grand dramatic trees of the redwood forest i greet them like no one ever does, a deep bow and a kiss on their ungodly pregodly postgodly trunks. what a gift, i say, what a gift to pass under your branches that drip down without a sound and seem so compellingly wise and mysteriously alive, despite all and everything. infinite beauty, my aching heart. that is what i say to them.

i meander between the trees rather than through them, following no path and listening to the rustle of small animals and the creekcreek of swaying limbs and the chittarree of birds rather than the snapping twigs and hushed footfall of an approaching assailant. which, if you are a girl, is what you have to constantly listen for if you are on your own anywhere, especially in the woods, so you are told. it tends to kill the beauty of the moment, one-hundred and fifty percent, but luckily today i am just floatsam particles and if there are any poor nasty men in these woods they wouldn't know where to stick their dicks even if they could extrasense an opportunity in my nubile young body.

like i am on a star a moon or distant planet, i forget her likes, that city of my adult birth with watchful lights steady phosphorescence and steady procession, slow solemn thankful funeral ride to the end, all the cars all the people and everything else.

all the people, yes all so, social interaction possibilities, does it equate, high numerous plentiful abundant? with many glances sure and sideways smiles yes, but never, and it was just realized, this, never really an asking for that which is not already most blatantly and obviously in our possession our tender slight grip of affection.

and it's not to do with deserving, deserving's a rot misguided notion, it's not that. still we tend to think that if such rhetoric must be employed then, well, everyone everywherealways deserves this heartwarm headwarm or, yes, loinswarm feeling this intangibly tangible thing, love.

right uncanny, you, with a resemblance to that figure in my dreams, startled and shy, both and neither of us with and without reason. with a fawning yawning flip of the head and tousle of the hair i see you in bed, soft cheeks, uncanny resemblance and in love a firestorm.

I hate the world today

2006-02-06T15:45:00.000-08:00

Your not good to me, and I know that I wont change.
So take me as I am.

7

2006-02-06T13:42:00.000-08:00

Why would you do this to yourself

2006-02-06T13:39:00.000-08:00

It's been so long
Since I've seen the faces
Of those back home
Full of the rapture
I love
But cannot find
In words
Alone

I talked to melissa KIRSCHEMBAUM>
hehe
we might chill this weekend
she's my ex best friend from like
6th grade.
weird

I wrote this at Yvie's while she was in the shower =]

2006-02-05T18:27:00.000-08:00

Ode to the faultless connection in the transparency of a visual language
Its own nature, the special style of all its manifestations, and the internal structure of delirium
We say, in short!
Under the chaotic and manifest delirium reigns the order of a secret delirium.
PAY ATTENTION,
This is reason delivered of all the external tinsel of dementia
In a double sense, since we find here both what makes us glow and shiver, some pretenses,
On our backs, a rigorous organization
Dependent on the faultless armature of apathy
That leads the scribes to note
HENCE, "she is the reason for her action"

So many errors, so many absurdities,
So many words and gestures without consequence,
They discover, finally, the hidden perfection
A timid lover, enveloped in the prestige of the image,
Limited to the locus of appearance
Like, say, she has magical eyes

THEN, in a park on a Saturday afternoon,
An act of faith, an act of affirmation and of negation--
A discourse which sustains and at the same time erodes the image,
Undermines it!
Distends it!
And organizes it around a segment of language

Later, in a crumbling apartment there are clothes
Lying on the floor--this, yes, makes it too easy
The mind binds itself to this arbitrariness
Becomes a prisoner of this apparent liberty
And seeing them the neighbors laughed:
"The mind's movements obey a mechanical structure which is that of the movement of spirits"

They don't forget when they're running fingers through each other's dirty hair what they read
At the bus stop, namely: "the radical relation of the phenomena
Of madness to the very possibility of passion"

The final night they chose candles and soft sad music
The lights were off so they listened and remembered
All the lessons and the power of its instruction
Must be sought in this obscure region, as her dad would say,
"At the lower confines of humanity, where man is hinged to nature,"
and they would add:
"Here she is both ultimate downfall and absolute innocence,
the guilty innocence of the animal in our sticky appendages"

She was a pretty thing to have around
Until she became:
AN OBJECT OF RESPECT AND COMPASSION
In other words, it had to end at a crowded
Restaurant, uptown, where clickety forks on plates made her gag,
These people! she's a human girl,
But they belong rather to an anti-nature, to a negativity
That threatens order and by its frenzy endangers
The positive wisdom of her sweaty bed-nights,
Where she works out the problems
And their accompanying exploitative possibilities

First she was a maiden, I think, and then it was
A fiery succubus with flaming skin, but with the
Cloth napkin on her lap, evil is freed from
All that its wealth of iconographic fauna could do,
To preserve only a general power of intimidation
Because, she still wants her

If determinism can have any effect on it, it is in the form of
Constraint! Punishment! Discipline!
The rooms of their respective childhoods, then,
Appear to consist of individual cages, a kind of human stable;
They have been inured to hunger, heat, cold, pain
And now they do not admit need,
These cold-shouldered children,
And she brings her at last to her heart to devour

asdfasd

2006-02-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

I'm giving today
Everything I have:
every ounce of passion,
every entrancing breath,
every step I take
with pure just intent
given away as gifts
Every single thought
that has managed to attain worth
offered up
in hope
that I will bleed no more
when tomorrow finally arrives

I move,
shuffling along
sometimes without any will
(survival becomes an unexpected test)
I just want to find her:
That Girl
dressed casually
in truth and faded jeans
that has a pure heart -
she will understand me)

These women
(plastic that walks and breathes)
that I have held
have so little true worth;
I am disgusted
by your attempt
at meaningful conversation
(Standing beneath a fresh snowfall
what do I have left
but this lonely journey)

Yea. I wrote this in my STUFF book first.

2006-02-04T19:32:00.000-08:00

I have been absent
from these last few months
(These days that pass
in a blur of static
while they marry indescion
beneath a winters rain)
I've been shuffling my feet
kicking stones (mere pebbles)
across the waiting water:
eerily patient
even when my hearts fire rages outside
knocking on its door

I have seen love
as a whore
grasping at straws
while it feel from its pedastal
in the night sky
So would you hold my hand
the same way you hold truth?
(the hospital crumbled
while I was in convalescence)

I've been wondering
if today is any different
from these days that have passed
in a blur of static
(I am just a sympathetic letter
sent to some random stranger
counting down the time
until I am discarded
with reason and all the other garbage)

49 is taking a shower UPSTAIRS. oh god.

2006-02-04T07:29:00.000-08:00

hehe.

42's straightening her hair, fun.

I'm seeing 68 today. With 42 and 49, Billy's going to.

I feel bad. I lied to 67, kinda. 67 said somthing in french. And then I lied to 67. And I feel retarded. Oh well.

49 and 42 slept over yesterday. They are today to. Fun.

Seeing a movie today? yea. with 42 49 68 and billy.

word.

What have I done
to this gentle ray of sunlight
that hangs around my neck
like some unwanted cross

If you were a fly
would you be convinced
that you could fly to the sun
would you laugh
at words unspoken
and gasp
while I break the broken
(I hate that it feels this way)

My lonley epiphany frowns,
your heart becomes a jewel to sparkle
in my eye
So I swim
with destinys child
and she looks upon me with obvious sympathy
allowing the ocean
to substitute as my tear
until I can remember
how to feel

My words are a virus
that I cannot control
or interpret into anything
that you could understand:
Ignorance is so divine
when your walking the line
(I am clumsily contangious)

Sttooonddeeedd

2006-02-03T16:49:00.001-08:00

IM SO STONED.

42's a good kisser. My K key doesnt work. mmm pizza.

Sttooonddeeedd

2006-02-03T16:49:00.000-08:00

IM SO STONED.

42's a good kisser. My K key doesnt work. mmm pizza.

Dedication.

2006-02-03T14:42:00.000-08:00

To 67, because 67 cares about me, even if 68 makes 67 feel unclean. <3

I'm in math.

2006-02-03T08:44:00.000-08:00

Math is my least favorite class. Ehk. I hate it. Our teacher's really stupid.

EEK

curled up in my arms,
your eyes not yet used
to the world,
you gaze up at me
your mini fingers hooked
around my thumb
your spirit around my heart.
You focus, and re-focus
and I wonder what you see.
I hope it's love;
I hope it's nothing
but love.

Good Morning, Sunshine [to 67] [It's fucking 6:45 DAMNIT]

2006-02-03T03:49:00.000-08:00

the night the flower pot broke
the night the thief left those indelible impressions
the night you ripped me apart
two distinct divisions
kept one with you
returned me the other half
with that permanent seal of unspoken words
thanks for acknowledging receipt
that night is not yet over

School.

2006-02-02T15:07:00.000-08:00

I didn't get to really see Calyne today. Weird. Her mom called my house? I dno. Weird. Fought with 67 today. We're pretty much cool now, I guess it was over stupid stuff. I dno if I'm mad at 67, I'm upset with her, a little, but not really.
More mad at my parents. They are being hugo gigundo ass holes. whatever. Now i have to be nice to burt because it's burts birthday tommorow.

EEK

I think i might ve going on a date with 68 [not to be confused with 67.] 68's really really cool.

Cool.

Dear Mom,

2006-02-01T18:52:00.000-08:00

I hate you.

why should tell you how low I feel
maybe that'd take me off even keel
why should I bare my bruised soul
show the world this empty gaping hole
why should I shout and admit defeat
winning wouldn't have been some extraordinary feat
why should I beg from door to door
if it ain't enough now I will never get more
why should I hang my head in shame
this lion-heart played a fair game
why should I show you what I dream
maybe you're the nightmare that made me scream
why should I divulge what's up my sleeve
the first thing you might do is up and leave
why should I share my regrets with you
maybe someday over beer for two
but if I did say and if I did show
the stars of heaven would brighter glow

STUPID BUTT FACE

2006-02-01T15:33:00.000-08:00

Funny, that I would
equate happiness
with numbness.
That the warmth and
comfort of your body
curled up beside me
leaves no room in my life
for the misery required
to write.
I stumble through days
a goofy moron
out of touch
with my drive to create.
All I think about is you,
and putting happy,
uncomplicated words on paper
seems a waste
when I can worship you with
lips and mouth and tongue,
rather than pen and ink.
But I will write
about being this feeling,
happy,
so I can stay in practice
should it slip away.

It's lunch, and I'm in the library, AGAIN.

2006-02-01T09:31:00.000-08:00

it's a cold one out there
can I help you with the overcoat
thanks for the company
the things you said well worth the note
this suitcase too heavy for you
box of burden box of tears
the leather used to shine once new
now they fail to pay the arrears
let me get that onto the train
and you check those tickets once again
them checkers have a heart of stone
particularly harsh to those travelling alone
the window seat will keep you company
coffee in the flask should keep you warm
drop me a line when you find the time
write me how you wrote off the storm

well then you take care now
the guard is busy flashing the green start
your memories fresh as the fallen snow
filed for permanent residence in my heart

YOU SUCKSUCKSUCKSUCKSUCK AT life.

2006-01-31T17:15:00.000-08:00

Yea.
School today. 67 was in school. Seemed upset, cheered up throughout the day. Amazing, the way that works.

Chilled with Sam, and this kids. you know whose really cool,

68

. yes, not to be confused with 67, 68 is a rare species of person. Who may or may not go to my school. Only person I'd even consider dating. Even though everyone thinks 68's a total RETARD, I think 68's really cool.

I might see 68 this weekend.

Anyway,
I havent talked to CHANDLER in a while. He called me but I missed it.
Which is very random and completely off subject.

I want tacos ;(

This deserves the title of god.

2006-01-31T17:08:00.000-08:00

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1651997757427874922&q=fall+out+boy

And i was like, WHATEVAH

2006-01-31T15:24:00.000-08:00

Carl was a friend of the family. My first friend until I was eight. He moved away and it sucked, I wonder where he is now.

Carl and me
Ran through sun warmed sand
We danced with the changing tides
And chased seagulls in the setting sun

Late at night
We would lie on our backs by a fire
Dreaming, staring at the starry blanket
Spreading over us in a twinkling wonder

I went there
To leave everything from before behind
Uncovering new smiles buried in deep sand
He journeyed with me, a loyal and true friend

We lived free
As emperors of our private seaside kingdom
For a moment in time we stood together alone
On that shore the whole world was made of just us

I miss him
And how he looked at me whenever I was sad
The way he bounded about sharing in my smiles
That was the youth I shared with my friend, Carl.

Why do I hate Doc Lab so much? OH YEA.

2006-01-31T10:16:00.000-08:00

Shhh, they’re coming
And they are strong
Stronger then the earth
And all its many layers.
We are such flimsy creatures
One heart and one brain.
Like pigs we wallow
In our individualism
Soaking, stewing, oh yes
They like stew…
We are numbered…
And we like it
They are one face under one mask
They feel each breathe
Of their neighbor
While we stay awake at night
Hating one another or
Simply ignoring the
Person lying next to us.
“Monsters!” We scream…
United in our fear
With our weapons raised…
Sweet belonging, one side
Of righteousness, one spirit for
People the world over…
Until the hate drains…and fear
Takes its place…Alone again.
Shhh…they are coming
And they are different
Not of this world and lacking
Humanity…individuality
They work as one
And they are strong.

EHK> i need to stop WRITING> but i cant because ill get writers block. poop.

2006-01-30T14:54:00.000-08:00

The curtain ripples like a young girls hair
In the sunlight, catching every ray. Molten
Copper, that’s the color of sexy. I’m center stage
Words in my throat, but I can’t take my eyes
Off of that curtain…off of you, though your
Nowhere near opening night.
I hear my prompt some ad-live and then
The words pour like rain from the sky
To embrace the desert, to embrace you.
The play continues in front all around
Teasing my mind, interrupting my heart.
I’m a part of it, but it remains separate
From me and what I have become; who
I am. I am lost in your hair, in the center light
That is your smile and when I walk stage
Left, I am followed by an array of colored
Flashes, your eyes, your laugh, your passion
Applause rings from a full house but
I’m not fooled…its you singing to me
And for a moment I know that no matter what
I try to be, or the many men I pretend to be
On a stage or in life, there is no
Escaping you.
____
I think my friend has a crush on me.
And now she wont talk to me.
But she lives in IOWA<

EEK

I already posted this, but I thought it deserved it's own post

2006-01-30T13:02:00.000-08:00

Truth,
small marine decapod crustaceans, lettuce, carrots, bean sprouts, sweet basil and vermicelli,
served with a house sauce, packed and wrapped tightly between soft rice wrappers.

Fresh,
rolls dipped in plum ectasy,
burning passion through my blood stream.

Seaweed,
salad lightly tossed in soy and sesame based dressing,
quenching every last taste bud of my appetite.

Winter,
dificient of heat,
struggling to slow down our tempo, making us rigid and inflexible,
yet we remain unbroken as we march on.

Surveyors,
fine tuning our equipment to encompass the elaborate landscapes lying before our eyes,
luscious feasts imploring our appetites to relentlessly prey upon one another voraciously upon rest.

Hands,
clasped together like tentacles,
smooth and fine to the touch, yet unwavering,
a tightly knit chain to keep us strong and healthy.

Pucks,
sliding back and forth,
cascading over a drawn-out temporal stasis of hydrogen and oxygen,
constantly searching, striving to score points, a goal.

Cheers,
flow from the stands,
as my hand massages the small of your back,
every inch of you electrifying my senses, causing my heart to race.

I strive to keep my heart under control these days,
for there are ways I would like to keep it racing around you,
as long as I don't end me up in the emergency room.

In the beginning,
I was energized by your presense,
your were the inspiration that kept the creative juices flowing.

Now,
I've had to take sabbaticals,
immerse myself in your essense, in order to find a new voice.

You've changed me,
made me want to be more than I thought I could be,
so I figured it was about time I praised thee.

Everyday,
you smile surrounds me, it protects me,
and makes me feel so damn lucky.

However,
this isn't meant to be a sappy love poem,
but a piece of poetic flare,
a way to show I care and to show you that you still arouse the hairs all over my skin.

Your skin,
soft as newborn blossoms untouched by human hands,
our breaths, forcing goosebumps to the surface, as floral acrobats waft and glide,
slowing to a halt, on the curves and rolling arches of your upper body.

You,
are my most famous dish,
long rice noodles stir-fried chicken, shrimp with egg, bean sprouts, Thai turnips, scallions,
all topped with ground peanuts.

If I was allergic to you,
I would still devour you,
enjoying after last bite,
as my taste buds achieve maximum escape velocity.

But,
I would never leave,
I would stay stuck in your gravitational pull,
engulfed by your wonderful kisses,
enjoying all that makes you so,
wonderful,
amazing,
beautiful.

Anyway

There are these people. These people who don't speak english, who come to the house every other day and clean. I feel SOO unconfortable when I'm home and their here, cleaning MY mess. I hope I dont get in their way. It makes me feel weird. And snotty. Which I dont think I am. I know I'm not, actually. I dno. I hope they leave soon.

67 Wasn't in school today. She will be tommorow.

Davids back. yey. He's happier and stuff, makes me happy, like sunshine on my window.

The math teacher accused Lucie of cheating on her math test, but she didnt because she was

sitting next to me

talking the whole time, and then mark was like BITCH NO so she's not in trouble. At the end of french we lightely muttered about the non presence of 67. How they hoped 67 was alright. One of them said they think 67 is relieved because 67 had been waiting for this beacuse the person related to 67 was sick for a long time. I see why 67 was having a hard month. Sorry 67. I didnt think it was cool that they were talking about it so I tried to stay out of the conversation. But what they were saying was nice, and supportive for 67, and I guess that's ok.

Rea isnt mad at me.
Rejoice.

I'm in history.

2006-01-30T08:13:00.000-08:00

ew

unchain

the time has come for me to go

hold me back not,
let me steal away to my dungeon
my moss-covered cave that smells nothing like
the sweet fragrance of your grace

hold me back not,
but light up the gentle candle
one more time let me see your face light up
and my disappearing be signalled by the wax melt

hold me back not,
but bid me sweet goodbye with tulips
your laughter surging like the Mediterranean
and grant your tired soul some deserved rest

hold me back not,
make me not a slave
to the vivaciousness of your life
or hold me captive in your enchanting dreams

the time has come for me to go
unchain is all I ask