Cornelius: this place is a vampire's dream.
Sawa: i'm in academic hell.
Cornelius: have a drink and take some crystal meth.
For some reason that was really funny at the time.
Pear juice + sake = vomit.
For future reference.
Ugh. :\
10.28.2003
oh, you think you've got it
but got it just don't get it
till there's nothing at all
we've been together
oh, we've been together
but seperate's always better
when there's feelings invol
Fuck that. Fuck everything.
I declare today International Sawa Listens To Good Music And Ignores All Obligation And Responsibility Day.
Thank you for last night and the recommendations. You know who you are. <3
*moshes to Shield For Your Eyes*
10.27.2003
see me at my desk
rested and well dressed
always there on time
funny how the clock
that i used to watch
now never seems to mind
tried hard to collect
interest and respect
by cutting out some things
i thought didn't matter
turned all of my whines
into "doing fine"s
it saves me so much time
i'm stuck in a square
becoming one too
three stories above
i hear there's a view
long way to the ground
but i'll probably stick around
Sawa: http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/new_york_new_york/everyday_matters/01.html
Cornelius: wild.
Sawa: i like it.
Cornelius: it's good.
Sawa: it is. makes me want to draw. *stretches and smiles a little*
Cornelius: it makes me not want to help soap get into a relationship with esther.
Sawa: i don't think i want to dip my fingers into anyone's lives ever again. i like watching people do things on their own.
Cornelius: life's better off that way.
Sawa: *nods* do you like eggnog?
Cornelius: Yes.
Sawa: oh, me too. i wrote it on the grocery list and my mother bought some. i have a glass of it right now.
Cornelius: wonderful.
Sawa: i like feeling around in it with my tongue for the cinnamon.
Cornelius: I hardly drink it.
Sawa: do you think we should go get some and drink it when we meet?
Cornelius: sure. we'll park your car someplace overlooking the city and have a semi-intellecutally deep conversation that eventually goes nowhere and results in awkward silence. at which point I panic attack and go silent.
Sawa: and then i'll hand you a cup of it, and it will be okay, just the lights and the sipping.
Cornelius: comfort silence.
Sawa: the kind of silence you'd want to lay in forever.
now i've got a view
miles to the ocean
but i can't see you
and maintain devotion
i wish i could say
"i'll be there"
slowly the stories
start to unbind
and tell me the years spent
never were mine
i'm always to owe
a debt to my heart
unless i can find a way to
restart and take control
slowly the edge
gets closer to you
you've got the most space
with the greatest of views
you've paid off the debt
you owe to your heart
you've paid off the debt
now go and restart
rested and well dressed
always there on time
funny how the clock
that i used to watch
now never seems to mind
tried hard to collect
interest and respect
by cutting out some things
i thought didn't matter
turned all of my whines
into "doing fine"s
it saves me so much time
i'm stuck in a square
becoming one too
three stories above
i hear there's a view
long way to the ground
but i'll probably stick around
Sawa: http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/new_york_new_york/everyday_matters/01.html
Cornelius: wild.
Sawa: i like it.
Cornelius: it's good.
Sawa: it is. makes me want to draw. *stretches and smiles a little*
Cornelius: it makes me not want to help soap get into a relationship with esther.
Sawa: i don't think i want to dip my fingers into anyone's lives ever again. i like watching people do things on their own.
Cornelius: life's better off that way.
Sawa: *nods* do you like eggnog?
Cornelius: Yes.
Sawa: oh, me too. i wrote it on the grocery list and my mother bought some. i have a glass of it right now.
Cornelius: wonderful.
Sawa: i like feeling around in it with my tongue for the cinnamon.
Cornelius: I hardly drink it.
Sawa: do you think we should go get some and drink it when we meet?
Cornelius: sure. we'll park your car someplace overlooking the city and have a semi-intellecutally deep conversation that eventually goes nowhere and results in awkward silence. at which point I panic attack and go silent.
Sawa: and then i'll hand you a cup of it, and it will be okay, just the lights and the sipping.
Cornelius: comfort silence.
Sawa: the kind of silence you'd want to lay in forever.
now i've got a view
miles to the ocean
but i can't see you
and maintain devotion
i wish i could say
"i'll be there"
slowly the stories
start to unbind
and tell me the years spent
never were mine
i'm always to owe
a debt to my heart
unless i can find a way to
restart and take control
slowly the edge
gets closer to you
you've got the most space
with the greatest of views
you've paid off the debt
you owe to your heart
you've paid off the debt
now go and restart
How do you "know" someone? I'm not talking biblically. When you say you know someone, what do you mean by that? If you mean different things at different times, then can you really know how many different things "knowing" someone means without experiencing each thing there is to experience in the universe? Can you know characters in books better than you know the people around you? I think you can.
She shoved sticks and forks inside herself, tore her fingernails through her delicate labia and turned the flesh bloodred. When it festered, she was overjoyed. She delighted in rubbing against the corners of furniture, smacking the skin raw with her little hands. She passed her sickness onto her little sister. Their obsessive-compulsive onanism led to genital cauterization and involuntary stays at a mental hospital. And Josiah wondered why I was cringing.
She shoved sticks and forks inside herself, tore her fingernails through her delicate labia and turned the flesh bloodred. When it festered, she was overjoyed. She delighted in rubbing against the corners of furniture, smacking the skin raw with her little hands. She passed her sickness onto her little sister. Their obsessive-compulsive onanism led to genital cauterization and involuntary stays at a mental hospital. And Josiah wondered why I was cringing.
10.25.2003
We find reasons to live in lovers.
The obligation-heavy cat sits forgotten on the white keys. A pair of disregarded wings and a sock with no match keeps it company.
We find meaning in restraint.
I dig my bitten nails into a cut on my back, and lose a contact in my eye.
I wish I lived closer to Seattle. Then I could work at Left Hand Books. And I could add to the walls. And I could read all day.
I am going to ask the nice people there if I can come up every Wednesday in November and write on the third floor. Hide in that little space in the back, with the window looking down at the intersection of Pike and 1st. And if I died there in that warm bookstore around the best literature my species has to offer, I think that would be just fine.
it all will fall
fall right into place
The obligation-heavy cat sits forgotten on the white keys. A pair of disregarded wings and a sock with no match keeps it company.
We find meaning in restraint.
I dig my bitten nails into a cut on my back, and lose a contact in my eye.
I wish I lived closer to Seattle. Then I could work at Left Hand Books. And I could add to the walls. And I could read all day.
I am going to ask the nice people there if I can come up every Wednesday in November and write on the third floor. Hide in that little space in the back, with the window looking down at the intersection of Pike and 1st. And if I died there in that warm bookstore around the best literature my species has to offer, I think that would be just fine.
it all will fall
fall right into place
10.22.2003
"A couple, woman and man, stretched out on a long, sandy beach. Their eyes hooded with the lingering graces of night, but regarding nonetheless the furious power of the sun rising on the horizon. The sky was ablaze with reds and golds, greens and oranges, beautiful, and power. Their hands clasped in the morning twilight, and smiles wreathed their faces, it was a moment tinged with perfection there in the morning light, with all the worries and cares of the workaday world far away, somewhere unimportant and alone.
The water washed up the beach and lapped at their bare feet, and they didn't move, delighted and surprised to find that it was already warmed by sol's radiance. He closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh, and she crept closer to him, and the sun rose higher in the sky."
I love you Chris. ;_; Comevisit me marry me.
The water washed up the beach and lapped at their bare feet, and they didn't move, delighted and surprised to find that it was already warmed by sol's radiance. He closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh, and she crept closer to him, and the sun rose higher in the sky."
I love you Chris. ;_; Come
"So here I sit in Creative Writing, done my final assignment three days early. And I get this genius idea to give you some of my shit! Tell me what you think. Truthfully. No 'being nice'... which is why I send it to you. ^_^ You won't BS me. Much love. ~~Ryan~~"
Glad to see I'm still known for the one thing I pride myself on. <3
Glad to see I'm still known for the one thing I pride myself on. <3
10.21.2003
His actions contradict his words. Again. He asks me to give him what I show "everyone else". Tells me that I just need to give him a chance. To let him show me that he isn't what I think he is. So I do. He then glances over them, judges them on the very first impression, and responds based off his judgement, which is always to some varying degree wrong. Sometimes he misses the point entirely and I have no idea where he conceived his thinking. It's like looking out a car window quickly and trying to discern in detail your surroundings by a snapshot glance, nevermind that you've almost completely forgotten what you saw in the first place, and that there's so much that you can't see, past the edges of the glass.
He tells me that what we do is not arguing, and then he himself calls it such.
I pause in an offline conversation to think of the right word, or retrace the steps I laid out for myself, and he throws out a riposte before I finish. He cuts me off in the middle of explanations and then chastizes me for cutting him off.
I bet that he makes mistakes that he realizes after, and in trying to avoid them coming out into the open moves on and floods what's previously been said with more words, moving away from any chance of me or anyone else realizing what had been wrongly said in the hopes that all will work out regardless.
His speed of speech doesn't match his speed and depth of thought. That's a factor, surely, but it takes effort to tell me something over and over and then do the exact opposite, and THEN continue on as if this is just another one of our spats.
Him doing this yet again, as he has so many times before, and after telling me that he's not the same person, transcends all forms of apology as it is right now.
If you want to lie to yourself, fine. But don't lie to me.
on the waydown they saw a lot they don't remember
and if you asked them how they couldn't say how they got there
and if you want them now you could just pull on the lever
and say, "i'm hung up on gravity"
you move your mouth and you start to talk
you close your eyes and then lose the thought
what's mine is mine and what's yours you've probably got
and we fall
He tells me that what we do is not arguing, and then he himself calls it such.
I pause in an offline conversation to think of the right word, or retrace the steps I laid out for myself, and he throws out a riposte before I finish. He cuts me off in the middle of explanations and then chastizes me for cutting him off.
I bet that he makes mistakes that he realizes after, and in trying to avoid them coming out into the open moves on and floods what's previously been said with more words, moving away from any chance of me or anyone else realizing what had been wrongly said in the hopes that all will work out regardless.
His speed of speech doesn't match his speed and depth of thought. That's a factor, surely, but it takes effort to tell me something over and over and then do the exact opposite, and THEN continue on as if this is just another one of our spats.
Him doing this yet again, as he has so many times before, and after telling me that he's not the same person, transcends all forms of apology as it is right now.
If you want to lie to yourself, fine. But don't lie to me.
on the waydown they saw a lot they don't remember
and if you asked them how they couldn't say how they got there
and if you want them now you could just pull on the lever
and say, "i'm hung up on gravity"
you move your mouth and you start to talk
you close your eyes and then lose the thought
what's mine is mine and what's yours you've probably got
and we fall
I was singing to myself (rather loudly) along with something by Ayumi Hamasaki, and my oldest younger sister poked her head into the room while I wasn't looking. She burst into laughter; I turned the speakers down and asked her what she was laughing about. She looked at me and said, in the snarkiest voice I've ever heard come out of her, "Nice singing."
I had no idea I was so out of tune, partially because I have a large tendency to play my music loud (thanks, mother). I turned it down, sang a few lines. She was right. It was awful.
My mother comments to me sometimes that she always thought my blood-related brother would end up in a band, perhaps as the frontman, citing he had a pleasant singing voice and never missed a key. This threw jealousy onto the fire of embarrassment at failure.
I spent two years on my own patiently sitting in front of the computer while I would turn the music down low and play soft songs with simple melodies. I tested out my voice in this manner; found that my years of listening to copious amounts of Japanese music led to a higher, more childish pitch than most.
I played the fast music loud and pressed my hand up against my throat song after song, singing as strong as I could without breaking my voice, feeling the buzz with my fingertips and pushing myself into hoarseness night after night. I began to start with the soft songs and lead into most of Gackt's songs, requiring as strong of a voice as I could supply. I would get frustrated when my voice began to crack after a dozen repetitions of Dears, urging myself on, trying to find someplace that I could settle.
The months of pain paid off. I found myself hitting pitch perfectly song after song, but wasn't satisfied just yet. I put on Sarah McLachlan's Surfacing and played Witness over and over, five seconds in turning the volume off and continuing on my own. I immediately dove back into my sloppy hit and misses, but after listening through a few times, was able to get through the entire thing well enough to satisfy and still remain on beat. After conquering that CD, I randomly selected songs and turned the volume off during them, singing them to myself until pleased with the result.
I sing better in foreign languages than English, perhaps because most of what I'm singing I don't even understand. But this is surely true with Japanese. In my eyes, at least.
My voice is nothing special. I won't win anything with it. I won't accomplish a Siren status. It inspires nothing. But I made it myself, and I use it every single day.
I had no idea I was so out of tune, partially because I have a large tendency to play my music loud (thanks, mother). I turned it down, sang a few lines. She was right. It was awful.
My mother comments to me sometimes that she always thought my blood-related brother would end up in a band, perhaps as the frontman, citing he had a pleasant singing voice and never missed a key. This threw jealousy onto the fire of embarrassment at failure.
I spent two years on my own patiently sitting in front of the computer while I would turn the music down low and play soft songs with simple melodies. I tested out my voice in this manner; found that my years of listening to copious amounts of Japanese music led to a higher, more childish pitch than most.
I played the fast music loud and pressed my hand up against my throat song after song, singing as strong as I could without breaking my voice, feeling the buzz with my fingertips and pushing myself into hoarseness night after night. I began to start with the soft songs and lead into most of Gackt's songs, requiring as strong of a voice as I could supply. I would get frustrated when my voice began to crack after a dozen repetitions of Dears, urging myself on, trying to find someplace that I could settle.
The months of pain paid off. I found myself hitting pitch perfectly song after song, but wasn't satisfied just yet. I put on Sarah McLachlan's Surfacing and played Witness over and over, five seconds in turning the volume off and continuing on my own. I immediately dove back into my sloppy hit and misses, but after listening through a few times, was able to get through the entire thing well enough to satisfy and still remain on beat. After conquering that CD, I randomly selected songs and turned the volume off during them, singing them to myself until pleased with the result.
I sing better in foreign languages than English, perhaps because most of what I'm singing I don't even understand. But this is surely true with Japanese. In my eyes, at least.
My voice is nothing special. I won't win anything with it. I won't accomplish a Siren status. It inspires nothing. But I made it myself, and I use it every single day.
me: is consistency in a relationship good or bad?
lynx: :O
dave: i vote joke option
lynx: consistency?
will: whats consistency
me: i mean, i always say the same sarcastic thing before i block my boyfriend and don't take his calls. should i perhaps say something more biting? or not shut him out? or maybe do a little dance to confuse him.
dave: chasey him
me: that's a good idea, dave, but he already knows about it.
dave: tried saint.jpg?
me: the argument STARTED over FS, so that'd just piss him off. whether that's good or bad has yet to be seen.
will: what was the arument?
nomad: *mutes hateful sphyx metal crap* >:
me: i showed him the groon thread
will: ...and?
nomad: hooraayy
dave: and?
me: he told me that you're all not worth my time and that he hates the fourms.
dave: hahaha, so true.
nomad: oh man.
will: he's got a point.
nomad: BEST. he's just jealous
me: and then he asked me why i even bother going there when i can talk to people i like on AIM. and it went from there. i can't believe i defended you people.
nomad: i can.
dave: there's no need to defend. if you don't like it you can leave. he should know that.
nomad: yeah. it sorta stands on its own.
lynx: YOUR HUSBAND IS ONE OF THEM.
dave: what does he think you're on the forums for? us? some people are beyond retarded. and if you can't appreciate groon, well.
me: he doesn't "get it".
dave: i don't need to say anymore.
lynx: you should leave if it's starting to destroy your relationship.
nomad: nah. you don't need to leave. just lay his fears to rest.
lynx: :O
dave: i vote joke option
lynx: consistency?
will: whats consistency
me: i mean, i always say the same sarcastic thing before i block my boyfriend and don't take his calls. should i perhaps say something more biting? or not shut him out? or maybe do a little dance to confuse him.
dave: chasey him
me: that's a good idea, dave, but he already knows about it.
dave: tried saint.jpg?
me: the argument STARTED over FS, so that'd just piss him off. whether that's good or bad has yet to be seen.
will: what was the arument?
nomad: *mutes hateful sphyx metal crap* >:
me: i showed him the groon thread
will: ...and?
nomad: hooraayy
dave: and?
me: he told me that you're all not worth my time and that he hates the fourms.
dave: hahaha, so true.
nomad: oh man.
will: he's got a point.
nomad: BEST. he's just jealous
me: and then he asked me why i even bother going there when i can talk to people i like on AIM. and it went from there. i can't believe i defended you people.
nomad: i can.
dave: there's no need to defend. if you don't like it you can leave. he should know that.
nomad: yeah. it sorta stands on its own.
lynx: YOUR HUSBAND IS ONE OF THEM.
dave: what does he think you're on the forums for? us? some people are beyond retarded. and if you can't appreciate groon, well.
me: he doesn't "get it".
dave: i don't need to say anymore.
lynx: you should leave if it's starting to destroy your relationship.
nomad: nah. you don't need to leave. just lay his fears to rest.
10.20.2003
(Ah, the pleasure of revisiting.)
Obsession: a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling.
Though often the dictionary cannot even come close in actually defining such an abstract concept, in this instance it does an exceptionally good job. The key words are 'disturbing' and 'unreasonable.' It would make sense for them to be 'preoccupied' with each other. Love can cause preoccupation, as can hate, and both emotions are everpresent, woven throughout their relationship. Where do you draw the line between preoccupation and obsession?
Preoccupation, perhaps, is where the other person inhabits your thoughts at all hours of the day, disrupting work and coherent thought. Maybe obsession begins at night?
Obsession is when you cannot sleep for thinking of the other person, when they invade your dreams and keep you awake. It is when having them with you is all you can think about, day and night, when they keep your thoughts company constantly.
The definition implies that obsession only occurs if the feelings would not otherwise be present. This is not true with them; though their love is twisted, it does exist. Does the obsession then make sense? Does it become less of an obession?
When she dreams, there is always someone with her, a constant hovering shadow of pain and love and hatred. Sometimes that someone is pressed up against her, the space between them nonexistent and on fire. Sometimes he is simply standing underneath a tree with a cold smile. Sometimes he lies bleeding at her feet.
But he is always there.
Likewise when he dreams, he is never alone. He also has a shadow. His is of regret and love and sorrow. Sometimes that person is pinned between him and a mattress, sometimes she sits crying, sometimes she stands in shock, staring down at his own bleeding body.
But she is always there.
Obsession means that you are never truly alone. And when you are separated from your obsession, it will slowly tear you apart.
Obsession: a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling.
Though often the dictionary cannot even come close in actually defining such an abstract concept, in this instance it does an exceptionally good job. The key words are 'disturbing' and 'unreasonable.' It would make sense for them to be 'preoccupied' with each other. Love can cause preoccupation, as can hate, and both emotions are everpresent, woven throughout their relationship. Where do you draw the line between preoccupation and obsession?
Preoccupation, perhaps, is where the other person inhabits your thoughts at all hours of the day, disrupting work and coherent thought. Maybe obsession begins at night?
Obsession is when you cannot sleep for thinking of the other person, when they invade your dreams and keep you awake. It is when having them with you is all you can think about, day and night, when they keep your thoughts company constantly.
The definition implies that obsession only occurs if the feelings would not otherwise be present. This is not true with them; though their love is twisted, it does exist. Does the obsession then make sense? Does it become less of an obession?
When she dreams, there is always someone with her, a constant hovering shadow of pain and love and hatred. Sometimes that someone is pressed up against her, the space between them nonexistent and on fire. Sometimes he is simply standing underneath a tree with a cold smile. Sometimes he lies bleeding at her feet.
But he is always there.
Likewise when he dreams, he is never alone. He also has a shadow. His is of regret and love and sorrow. Sometimes that person is pinned between him and a mattress, sometimes she sits crying, sometimes she stands in shock, staring down at his own bleeding body.
But she is always there.
Obsession means that you are never truly alone. And when you are separated from your obsession, it will slowly tear you apart.
Best Offbeat Answers from Seattle Weekly's Best of Seattle survey.
Note to self: Tell mother that Neighbor's is indeed still open, just relocated.
Note to self: Tell mother that Neighbor's is indeed still open, just relocated.
10.18.2003
Cornelius: some androgynous girl flipped out of me for drinking her bottle of tap water that she brought from home and peeling off the label.
Sawa: weird
Cornelius: she had some note like "OMGZ Cory is the insensitive incosiderate bastardo" etc. so I erased the message and wrote "lol dood chillz. I'll get you another fucking water." people get pissy over the smallest shit. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ADRIENNE, YOU'RE BREATHING ALL MY OXYGEN AND TAKING UP ALL MY SPACE. INSENSITIVE CUNT. I HATE YOU NOW.
Sawa: *peels your fucking label*
Cornelius: Oh that's it. it's over.
Sawa: h8.
Cornelius: so fucking over. I'm going to blow this 10$ I saved on acid. then I'm gonna do acid. WITHOUT YOU.
Sawa: :O
Sawa: weird
Cornelius: she had some note like "OMGZ Cory is the insensitive incosiderate bastardo" etc. so I erased the message and wrote "lol dood chillz. I'll get you another fucking water." people get pissy over the smallest shit. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ADRIENNE, YOU'RE BREATHING ALL MY OXYGEN AND TAKING UP ALL MY SPACE. INSENSITIVE CUNT. I HATE YOU NOW.
Sawa: *peels your fucking label*
Cornelius: Oh that's it. it's over.
Sawa: h8.
Cornelius: so fucking over. I'm going to blow this 10$ I saved on acid. then I'm gonna do acid. WITHOUT YOU.
Sawa: :O
10.17.2003
it turned him to the booze
and he got mixed up with a floosie
and she led him to a life of indecision
the floosie made him spend his dole
she left him lying on skid row
a drunken lag in some salvation army mission
it’s such a shame
oh, demon alcohol
sad memories i cannot recall
who thought i would say
damn it all and blow it all
oh, demon alcohol
memories i cannot recall
who thought i would fall
a slave to demon alcohol?
and he got mixed up with a floosie
and she led him to a life of indecision
the floosie made him spend his dole
she left him lying on skid row
a drunken lag in some salvation army mission
it’s such a shame
oh, demon alcohol
sad memories i cannot recall
who thought i would say
damn it all and blow it all
oh, demon alcohol
memories i cannot recall
who thought i would fall
a slave to demon alcohol?
you think you've got it
oh, you think you've got it
but got it just don't get it
till there's nothing at all
we get together
oh, we get together
but separate's always better
when there's feelings involved
http://mirrored.flabber.nl/britney.lookalike/
oh, you think you've got it
but got it just don't get it
till there's nothing at all
we get together
oh, we get together
but separate's always better
when there's feelings involved
http://mirrored.flabber.nl/britney.lookalike/
10.16.2003
Sawa: DRAWING TIEM
Taisa: yey :o *snuggles in weird naked position* whatcha gonna draw? *poses*
Sawa: lewl. you see i'd draw you but you're not here :O
Taisa: :(
Sawa: can't do it unless they're right in front of me :o
Taisa: *puts penis right in front of her* :o chibi taisa attack! :o go chibi taisa! harden! btw im watching pokemon D:
Taisa: yey :o *snuggles in weird naked position* whatcha gonna draw? *poses*
Sawa: lewl. you see i'd draw you but you're not here :O
Taisa: :(
Sawa: can't do it unless they're right in front of me :o
Taisa: *puts penis right in front of her* :o chibi taisa attack! :o go chibi taisa! harden! btw im watching pokemon D:
A+...w00t! You either really know your stuff, or you're one hell of a guesser.
How well do you know Jrock?
Me? Guess? HAH! Everyone knows that Gackt's body fat percentage is 6% while he's touring, and that hide fell in love with Fender ever since he got his first one in 5th grade. Come on now.
Sawa: *throws her pencil* i suck at drawing people. why am i even trying. i should stick to the massacres of color that everything was.
Cornelius: go to time out.
Sawa: i don't need a time out, i need someone to cut my hands off, or remove my imagination We style. i'll write by dictation and live in a small wooden cabin in the middle of the vast canadian woods, i and my dictation taker huddled around a fire and cups of soup.
---
Cornelius: *plays the odd couple theme on his guitar*
Sawa: *cracks a smile* i'm frustrated and feeling empty. i need sleep. and i need to get the paint off of my screen and keyboard. i abandonded the paper for something that would cover him up more. so i started painting over the IM box. *yawns* and the rest is history.
Cornelius: makes sense.
Cornelius: go to time out.
Sawa: i don't need a time out, i need someone to cut my hands off, or remove my imagination We style. i'll write by dictation and live in a small wooden cabin in the middle of the vast canadian woods, i and my dictation taker huddled around a fire and cups of soup.
---
Cornelius: *plays the odd couple theme on his guitar*
Sawa: *cracks a smile* i'm frustrated and feeling empty. i need sleep. and i need to get the paint off of my screen and keyboard. i abandonded the paper for something that would cover him up more. so i started painting over the IM box. *yawns* and the rest is history.
Cornelius: makes sense.
10.15.2003
it’s late in the day
i’m thinking of you
things that you say
Sawa: too many things to do. i want to draw and read and write and photoshop and play my game and paint and respond to e-mail all at once.
Cornelius: do it. then go to the hospital afterwards.
i lay on my bed
searching my mind
writing my love
i’m thinking of you
things that you say
Sawa: too many things to do. i want to draw and read and write and photoshop and play my game and paint and respond to e-mail all at once.
Cornelius: do it. then go to the hospital afterwards.
i lay on my bed
searching my mind
writing my love
10.14.2003
10.13.2003
10.12.2003
so everybody put your best suit or dress on
let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once
lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn
as thirty dialogues bleed into one
i wish the world was flat like the old days
then i could travel just by folding a map
no more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways
there'd be no distance that could hold us back
let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once
lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn
as thirty dialogues bleed into one
i wish the world was flat like the old days
then i could travel just by folding a map
no more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways
there'd be no distance that could hold us back
10.10.2003
10.08.2003
10.07.2003
Whoever joined Fiction Press just to write me a review. I love you.
"Excellent, you have an overflowing goblet of delicious wine. Unfortunately you have little means of controlling the flow. I think this shall be your next task.
You must learn how to start your stories with less of an explosion; while beautiful in their own right, they are impossible to fully comprehend. As time moves forward we cannot realize what comes next due to being partially blinded by the opening act.
Thus a stopper must be put on the mouth of your vial. Stop feeding us veal to finish off with a tasteless wafer.
Do not mistake my suggestion as a request for a dull monotone, as a plot can contain a variety of speeds. Instead, keep your vocabulary and adjective usage to my mentioned request.
That is all I ask. I think once you master this you will truly be unstoppable."
Also, you sound suspiciously like K before he disappeared, in that you tell me the same things he did, things I built upon with Misdirection and will inevitably harness with this new book. All's a work in progress: writing, art, life itself.
From your reaction, I see clearly that Grounded succeeded in what it set out to do -- that is, plunge its greedy hands into your very innards and twist twist twist until you can't take the sheer too-good-to-be-true of it all, how it reminds you of those fleeting first minutes of knowing someone whom you are inexorably attracted to, like a natural form of gravitational pull between you and this glorious being, and then breaks your wings before you've even left the ground. Thus, in one of many strains of thought, comes about the title. Grounded was about gaining control of myself, about forcing my words into mountains which I promptly shove you off of.
The goal was to create synthetic loss within the reader, just as Misdirection's goal was to create synthetic wrath. I succeeded, if I do say so myself, inciting tears in the eyes of a man with the former, and frothing rage in the eyes of another with the latter. Now that I've plucked your heartstrings, I'm ready to stumble blindly in a completely different direction: comedy.
I understand my.. problem, as it is, with putting too much lipstick on the mouth of a story. Previous attempts at short stories with this flaw have turned into storyline sluts, sleeping with every idea and invoked emotion that walks by and turning its body into a mess that my literary voice required months to recover from. There are no doctors for this sort of sickness, only my own restraint. Curse the female frame of mind and all its emotional anomalies; were it that I could rid myself of it.
In short, I still believe in the saying that you must write a million awful words before the good stuff begins to come out. Here's to word one million.
"Excellent, you have an overflowing goblet of delicious wine. Unfortunately you have little means of controlling the flow. I think this shall be your next task.
You must learn how to start your stories with less of an explosion; while beautiful in their own right, they are impossible to fully comprehend. As time moves forward we cannot realize what comes next due to being partially blinded by the opening act.
Thus a stopper must be put on the mouth of your vial. Stop feeding us veal to finish off with a tasteless wafer.
Do not mistake my suggestion as a request for a dull monotone, as a plot can contain a variety of speeds. Instead, keep your vocabulary and adjective usage to my mentioned request.
That is all I ask. I think once you master this you will truly be unstoppable."
Also, you sound suspiciously like K before he disappeared, in that you tell me the same things he did, things I built upon with Misdirection and will inevitably harness with this new book. All's a work in progress: writing, art, life itself.
From your reaction, I see clearly that Grounded succeeded in what it set out to do -- that is, plunge its greedy hands into your very innards and twist twist twist until you can't take the sheer too-good-to-be-true of it all, how it reminds you of those fleeting first minutes of knowing someone whom you are inexorably attracted to, like a natural form of gravitational pull between you and this glorious being, and then breaks your wings before you've even left the ground. Thus, in one of many strains of thought, comes about the title. Grounded was about gaining control of myself, about forcing my words into mountains which I promptly shove you off of.
The goal was to create synthetic loss within the reader, just as Misdirection's goal was to create synthetic wrath. I succeeded, if I do say so myself, inciting tears in the eyes of a man with the former, and frothing rage in the eyes of another with the latter. Now that I've plucked your heartstrings, I'm ready to stumble blindly in a completely different direction: comedy.
I understand my.. problem, as it is, with putting too much lipstick on the mouth of a story. Previous attempts at short stories with this flaw have turned into storyline sluts, sleeping with every idea and invoked emotion that walks by and turning its body into a mess that my literary voice required months to recover from. There are no doctors for this sort of sickness, only my own restraint. Curse the female frame of mind and all its emotional anomalies; were it that I could rid myself of it.
In short, I still believe in the saying that you must write a million awful words before the good stuff begins to come out. Here's to word one million.
The saddest song I have ever heard is Regret, by Malice Mizer. This song pulls at me in ways I can't understand, especially the beginning. Sure, there's Sarah McLachlan's Last Dance, and VAST's Blue. But this is the sort of song that could pull me into a headlong depression if I listen to it more than once. I'm picking up my Malice Mizer obsession again. All of their songs are so beautiful.
Au Revoir sends me back to the light days of the months after Sakura Con 2002; the other version of it to that con's Saturday night and the pain of letting go of another convention (my own pieces of heaven). Je tu Veux, of Aka Con 2001, specifically the cosplay. Regret forces another long look at the deep hole I was in for so many months this previous winter. Kyomu no Naka de no Yuugi gets me in a writing mood. Brise and Madrigal makes me feel like everything's going to be alright, and then stabs my good mood in the heart, sending me off to some ethereal dreamworld with Sakai to Chi no Bara. Baroque and Mayo Naka ni Kawashita Yakusoku brings me back to earth again. N.p.s.N.g.s. allows me to be the tortured for once and not the torturer. Illuminati comes blazing in, fucks me hard and leaves me with a scream. Bel Air stands on its own two feet and says goodbye to the past.
All of these songs are very much a part of me. I'm going to have to burn myself a few CDs when I wake up.
Au Revoir sends me back to the light days of the months after Sakura Con 2002; the other version of it to that con's Saturday night and the pain of letting go of another convention (my own pieces of heaven). Je tu Veux, of Aka Con 2001, specifically the cosplay. Regret forces another long look at the deep hole I was in for so many months this previous winter. Kyomu no Naka de no Yuugi gets me in a writing mood. Brise and Madrigal makes me feel like everything's going to be alright, and then stabs my good mood in the heart, sending me off to some ethereal dreamworld with Sakai to Chi no Bara. Baroque and Mayo Naka ni Kawashita Yakusoku brings me back to earth again. N.p.s.N.g.s. allows me to be the tortured for once and not the torturer. Illuminati comes blazing in, fucks me hard and leaves me with a scream. Bel Air stands on its own two feet and says goodbye to the past.
All of these songs are very much a part of me. I'm going to have to burn myself a few CDs when I wake up.
10.06.2003
The last post was a little Adrienne's Sick And Popping More Pillz Than Robball, So Be Nice. Except for the bit about the laughing. That was all me.
Me: *sees e-mail from Fiction Press titled "Review Alert!"* ...Omg. Omg someone actually read my stories. Someone's going to wax intellectual and go into the finer points of the story line, tell me any mistakes I made in grammar, give me tips on writing. Squee! *opens e-mail*
"MY story is crap? waht the hell about your's!? if u don't like my stuff, don't read it. suck urself"
...-_-
Me: *sees e-mail from Fiction Press titled "Review Alert!"* ...Omg. Omg someone actually read my stories. Someone's going to wax intellectual and go into the finer points of the story line, tell me any mistakes I made in grammar, give me tips on writing. Squee! *opens e-mail*
"MY story is crap? waht the hell about your's!? if u don't like my stuff, don't read it. suck urself"
...-_-
"Not like Wal-mart. *still bitchy about the "I can't sell these [caffeine pills] to you because you're under 18" incident* The reason I decided to buy Stacker 2 instead of Stacker 3, is because I heard you can take Stacker 2 on an empty stomach. I've already taken one and it seems to be working... I'm not hungry and I usually would be starving about this time. Yayness. ^_^v So, starting today, new fast.. and I will be strong this time and not FORGET and start eating without knowing I am. >_<"
My body has started to eat itself ^_^v ! Victory! The pain of vital organs getting devoured by themselves is orgasmic ^^;; Lol my parents were all "Please you're our only son we don't want you to die" *rolls eyes* ^^; They just don't fuckin' understand @_@ ! I'm FAT ^o^v But O-o I'm ^^; getting :D thinner ;_^ yay 0_o
(..Juho was funny for once.)
I find it hilarious that these people don't know that caffeine is a metabolism KILLER, not a metabolism OVERDRIVE. Drinking so much coffee and wondering why you gained two pounds today. Fucking kids these days. And honestly. 80 calories A DAY? You're going to die and I'm going to laugh.
Speaking of hurting yourself, I have a small confession to make.
I've been thinking about the razor in my nightstand again. How pretty the red of my blood is. How bad the stinging hurts and how good it feels to watch what's keeping me alive come out.
I remember Odie and her scarred arms. How she carved them in when she was high and came skipping down the sidewalk to show me.
Jade and her long sleeves for weeks. How she cut herself in front of me and I took a picture of it with my webcam and we just sat there side by side bleeding and unthinking. Unfeeling, in my case. Just dead. Neutral to the events at hand.
She never cut herself deep. Hah. "Mommy might find out." Well, you're in France now, honey. I bet you cut yourself every day, deep as you please. Drunk on your wine. Cut cut cut. With the razors I showed you how to get, or maybe even the razor I gave you. I enabled your self-denial. Ah, memories.
I haven't actually gotten it out yet, but I'm thinking I might.
For old time's sake.
My body has started to eat itself ^_^v ! Victory! The pain of vital organs getting devoured by themselves is orgasmic ^^;; Lol my parents were all "Please you're our only son we don't want you to die" *rolls eyes* ^^; They just don't fuckin' understand @_@ ! I'm FAT ^o^v But O-o I'm ^^; getting :D thinner ;_^ yay 0_o
(..Juho was funny for once.)
I find it hilarious that these people don't know that caffeine is a metabolism KILLER, not a metabolism OVERDRIVE. Drinking so much coffee and wondering why you gained two pounds today. Fucking kids these days. And honestly. 80 calories A DAY? You're going to die and I'm going to laugh.
Speaking of hurting yourself, I have a small confession to make.
I've been thinking about the razor in my nightstand again. How pretty the red of my blood is. How bad the stinging hurts and how good it feels to watch what's keeping me alive come out.
I remember Odie and her scarred arms. How she carved them in when she was high and came skipping down the sidewalk to show me.
Jade and her long sleeves for weeks. How she cut herself in front of me and I took a picture of it with my webcam and we just sat there side by side bleeding and unthinking. Unfeeling, in my case. Just dead. Neutral to the events at hand.
She never cut herself deep. Hah. "Mommy might find out." Well, you're in France now, honey. I bet you cut yourself every day, deep as you please. Drunk on your wine. Cut cut cut. With the razors I showed you how to get, or maybe even the razor I gave you. I enabled your self-denial. Ah, memories.
I haven't actually gotten it out yet, but I'm thinking I might.
For old time's sake.
10.03.2003
10.01.2003
This story's going to take a little explaining, but those of you who know who everyone is will get a fucking kick out of this.
Shasta got t-boned a few days ago, and not only that, but it was a hit and run. It wasn't her fault; the lady driving the other car intentionally hit her for trying to get away from her because she was driving all crazy. Shasta didn't remember the entire license plate number, but her mother saw a car fitting the description driving around downtown Auburn the next day. She followed the car, got the rest of the license plate number and their address, and went back to the police. It turns out that not only was the lady who hit her drunk at the time, but it was BETHANY GENTRY'S MOTHER. I shit you not. She now has to pay a minimum of $1200 in damages to not get arrested for the hit and run, which seems impossible seeing as how she has NO insurance and gets paid (very little) under the table, and Shasta's mother is pressing charges.
That has to be the funniest thing I've heard all week.
Shasta got t-boned a few days ago, and not only that, but it was a hit and run. It wasn't her fault; the lady driving the other car intentionally hit her for trying to get away from her because she was driving all crazy. Shasta didn't remember the entire license plate number, but her mother saw a car fitting the description driving around downtown Auburn the next day. She followed the car, got the rest of the license plate number and their address, and went back to the police. It turns out that not only was the lady who hit her drunk at the time, but it was BETHANY GENTRY'S MOTHER. I shit you not. She now has to pay a minimum of $1200 in damages to not get arrested for the hit and run, which seems impossible seeing as how she has NO insurance and gets paid (very little) under the table, and Shasta's mother is pressing charges.
That has to be the funniest thing I've heard all week.
Adrienne is the #394 most common female name.
0.039% of females in the US are named Adrienne.
Around 49725 US females are named Adrienne!
source namestatistics.com
0.039% of females in the US are named Adrienne.
Around 49725 US females are named Adrienne!
source namestatistics.com
Hunter is the #130 most common last name.
0.069% of last names in the US are Hunter.
Around 172500 US last names are Hunter!
source namestatistics.com
0.069% of last names in the US are Hunter.
Around 172500 US last names are Hunter!
source namestatistics.com
Josiah is the #913 most common male name.
0.006% of men in the US are named Josiah.
Around 7350 US men are named Josiah!
source namestatistics.com
0.006% of men in the US are named Josiah.
Around 7350 US men are named Josiah!
source namestatistics.com
Lael is the #3874 most common female name.
0.001% of females in the US are named Lael.
Around 1275 US females are named Lael!
source namestatistics.com
0.001% of females in the US are named Lael.
Around 1275 US females are named Lael!
source namestatistics.com
Halasz is the #27608 most common last name.
0.0005% of last names in the US are Halasz.
Around 1250 US last names are Halasz!
source namestatistics.com
0.0005% of last names in the US are Halasz.
Around 1250 US last names are Halasz!
source namestatistics.com
Holy fuck me Christ, SeanSparks is hot.
God: As about...33 percent of the black vote here at FSU, do you think I should have voted for SGA?
Sawa: I'm against voting. So you're fine.
God: Fair enough.
Sawa: Josiah got into a car wreck. His car's dead.
God: And he's...?
Sawa: Fine. Fortunately for him the person he hit didn't call the police.
God: His fault too? Ouch.
Sawa: But he now has next to no transportation, and next to no food, and he's really upset right now. AND I CAN'T BE THERE FOR HIM BECAUSE MY MOTHER'S A SELFISH WHORE.
God: Tell him to buy a bike, go to Publix, buy some food, and give him a blowjob and a pat on the ass as a send-off. If you ever escape your mother, anyway.
Sawa: Next to no food can and does translate as next to no money.
God: I would say that he could start working double shifts, but with no caaaaar.....eh. What's his insurance company doing?
Sawa: I don't know.
God: He needs to get the car fixed or replaced to make money.
Sawa: I didn't get to talk to him much before his cable went down for some unknown reason. He's planning on taking the bus. D:
God: Ah. That works too.
Sawa: GOD THIS IS SO FUCKED UP WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHIIIIING. I hate life.
God: Your mom? But life loves you! Or loves to pick on you. Then again, she's also the reason you're alive.
Sawa: /gun. I'd rather not be alive some days.
God: But then what would Josiah do? Fuck, what would I do?
Sawa: I don't know ;_;
God: Besides live longer... You're needed, A-chan. You have a divine purpose.
Sawa: Divine? What's so divine about sucking cock and telling people off in stylishly sardonic ways?
God: Well, I was christened as God the other day. The old guy's shift was up. I'm actually the third god. In any case, I made oral sex an act of divine charity. It's in the new bible pending print. Don't worry, there's a reason for everything. I'm also remodeling heaven to include a lot more Porn and chicken.
Sawa: Excellent. So what's the reasoning for this?
God: Reasoning for porn and chicken? No reason NEEDED. It's..porn...and CHICKEN. Fried chicken. With....hot sauce.
Sawa: I meant Josiah crashing. I mean, I can't bear to drive with him in the car. Let alone take him places. Or US places. Why'd you do this to us?
God: Well, I planned to make you the Virgin Mary, but it didn't work out, so I just figured I'd make Josiah my Job. And you can be his quirky Jobette. The new millenium, I figured there should be some more female role models in religion.
Sawa: Eh. It works. I'm not keen on children anyway.
God: Fuck a virgin birth. Nowadays being a virgin past 14 is a miracle in itself. I'm not a picky God.
Sawa: I made it to 16. :|
God: Congratulations.
Sawa: No thanks to the 1100 miles between Josiah and I. Actually, all thanks to that.
God: Indeed. It wasn't my shift when that happened, to be fair.
Sawa: Hrmph. And then when it IS your shift, you allow this car accident.
God: Hey, I'm letting him have a girl who ENJOYS giving oral sex. Compared to festering lesions and killing his loved ones, he should be SMILING... Do you know how HARD it is to watch everything at ONCE?! It's MIND boggling... It's like playing a billion games of Sim City at once...
Sawa: Our long friendship prior to your being christened as God should at least oblige you to go easy on me. It's not like the last one was.
God: This is true. But don't worry, in the end, Job was rewarded with passage into heaven. You'll have the same passage, but you'll know GOD. Imagine the perks.
Sawa: Fuck heaven, what about NOW?
God: Well, Adrienne, I've been trying to teach you, above all else, ONE thing throughout thr course of our friendship. PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE. So start being virtuous.
Sawa: I'd rather be naughty.
God: Just be naughty patiently.
Works for me.
God: As about...33 percent of the black vote here at FSU, do you think I should have voted for SGA?
Sawa: I'm against voting. So you're fine.
God: Fair enough.
Sawa: Josiah got into a car wreck. His car's dead.
God: And he's...?
Sawa: Fine. Fortunately for him the person he hit didn't call the police.
God: His fault too? Ouch.
Sawa: But he now has next to no transportation, and next to no food, and he's really upset right now. AND I CAN'T BE THERE FOR HIM BECAUSE MY MOTHER'S A SELFISH WHORE.
God: Tell him to buy a bike, go to Publix, buy some food, and give him a blowjob and a pat on the ass as a send-off. If you ever escape your mother, anyway.
Sawa: Next to no food can and does translate as next to no money.
God: I would say that he could start working double shifts, but with no caaaaar.....eh. What's his insurance company doing?
Sawa: I don't know.
God: He needs to get the car fixed or replaced to make money.
Sawa: I didn't get to talk to him much before his cable went down for some unknown reason. He's planning on taking the bus. D:
God: Ah. That works too.
Sawa: GOD THIS IS SO FUCKED UP WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHIIIIING. I hate life.
God: Your mom? But life loves you! Or loves to pick on you. Then again, she's also the reason you're alive.
Sawa: /gun. I'd rather not be alive some days.
God: But then what would Josiah do? Fuck, what would I do?
Sawa: I don't know ;_;
God: Besides live longer... You're needed, A-chan. You have a divine purpose.
Sawa: Divine? What's so divine about sucking cock and telling people off in stylishly sardonic ways?
God: Well, I was christened as God the other day. The old guy's shift was up. I'm actually the third god. In any case, I made oral sex an act of divine charity. It's in the new bible pending print. Don't worry, there's a reason for everything. I'm also remodeling heaven to include a lot more Porn and chicken.
Sawa: Excellent. So what's the reasoning for this?
God: Reasoning for porn and chicken? No reason NEEDED. It's..porn...and CHICKEN. Fried chicken. With....hot sauce.
Sawa: I meant Josiah crashing. I mean, I can't bear to drive with him in the car. Let alone take him places. Or US places. Why'd you do this to us?
God: Well, I planned to make you the Virgin Mary, but it didn't work out, so I just figured I'd make Josiah my Job. And you can be his quirky Jobette. The new millenium, I figured there should be some more female role models in religion.
Sawa: Eh. It works. I'm not keen on children anyway.
God: Fuck a virgin birth. Nowadays being a virgin past 14 is a miracle in itself. I'm not a picky God.
Sawa: I made it to 16. :|
God: Congratulations.
Sawa: No thanks to the 1100 miles between Josiah and I. Actually, all thanks to that.
God: Indeed. It wasn't my shift when that happened, to be fair.
Sawa: Hrmph. And then when it IS your shift, you allow this car accident.
God: Hey, I'm letting him have a girl who ENJOYS giving oral sex. Compared to festering lesions and killing his loved ones, he should be SMILING... Do you know how HARD it is to watch everything at ONCE?! It's MIND boggling... It's like playing a billion games of Sim City at once...
Sawa: Our long friendship prior to your being christened as God should at least oblige you to go easy on me. It's not like the last one was.
God: This is true. But don't worry, in the end, Job was rewarded with passage into heaven. You'll have the same passage, but you'll know GOD. Imagine the perks.
Sawa: Fuck heaven, what about NOW?
God: Well, Adrienne, I've been trying to teach you, above all else, ONE thing throughout thr course of our friendship. PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE. So start being virtuous.
Sawa: I'd rather be naughty.
God: Just be naughty patiently.
Works for me.
A - Act your age? - Not at all.
B - Boyfriend - YESSAH.
C - Chore you hate - All of them.
D - Dad's name - Gary.
E - Essential make up item - NONE. :D
F - Favorite actress - Gwyneth Paltrow. [/fag]
G - Gold or silver - Silver.
H - Hometown - Lake Stevens/Burien.
I - Instruments you play - Skin flute.
J - Job title - Writer.
K - Kids - With a nice white sauce.
L - Living arrangements - I tend to sleep/compute at my mother's. Everything else is at Josiah's.
M - Mom's name - Crystal.
N - Number of people you've slept with - 1.
O - Overnight hospital stays - None.
P - Phobia - YOUR FACE.
Q - Quote you like - "Cake or death?"
R - Religious affiliation? Church of the SubGenius.
S - Sibling - Vance Spam Steph Darian Matt.
T - Time you wake up? - 10am.
U - Unique habit - Naked Time. :D
V - Vegetable you refuse to eat - Fucking. Asparagus. Ew. Worst ever.
W - Worst habit - Playing with Chibi Taisa all the time. ;(
X - X-rays you've had - Dental, ribcage.
Y - Yummy food you make - Ramen, bitch.
Z - Zodiac Sign - Libra.
B - Boyfriend - YESSAH.
C - Chore you hate - All of them.
D - Dad's name - Gary.
E - Essential make up item - NONE. :D
F - Favorite actress - Gwyneth Paltrow. [/fag]
G - Gold or silver - Silver.
H - Hometown - Lake Stevens/Burien.
I - Instruments you play - Skin flute.
J - Job title - Writer.
K - Kids - With a nice white sauce.
L - Living arrangements - I tend to sleep/compute at my mother's. Everything else is at Josiah's.
M - Mom's name - Crystal.
N - Number of people you've slept with - 1.
O - Overnight hospital stays - None.
P - Phobia - YOUR FACE.
Q - Quote you like - "Cake or death?"
R - Religious affiliation? Church of the SubGenius.
S - Sibling - Vance Spam Steph Darian Matt.
T - Time you wake up? - 10am.
U - Unique habit - Naked Time. :D
V - Vegetable you refuse to eat - Fucking. Asparagus. Ew. Worst ever.
W - Worst habit - Playing with Chibi Taisa all the time. ;(
X - X-rays you've had - Dental, ribcage.
Y - Yummy food you make - Ramen, bitch.
Z - Zodiac Sign - Libra.
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