11.13.2006
A lot of people I know read this, so I'm posting this for everyone else's sake. Threadless has a special mega ultra shirt sale for Christmas starting right now. Brand new fucking t-shirts for $10. Fuck yeah. I'm trying to find my extra $3 off code, I'll be posting it when I do.
11.12.2006
Vancouver feels like home in ways Seattle never will, but it's still not my home. And how am I to say what home is when I don't have one?
Still. It's nice, up here, with all of the French and Chinese and Japanese being spoken on the streets and TV. Lots of cozy spots to sit in and watch the city move. And so trusting! I've been excused from paying sales tax, allowed to take my backpack in with me to the dressing room, and given countless drinks without getting carded.
(Sitting in a diner right now. Goddamn, you guys have some weak coffee sometimes.)
It feels good to be here, exchange rate be damned. I need to do this more often.
Still. It's nice, up here, with all of the French and Chinese and Japanese being spoken on the streets and TV. Lots of cozy spots to sit in and watch the city move. And so trusting! I've been excused from paying sales tax, allowed to take my backpack in with me to the dressing room, and given countless drinks without getting carded.
(Sitting in a diner right now. Goddamn, you guys have some weak coffee sometimes.)
It feels good to be here, exchange rate be damned. I need to do this more often.
11.11.2006
Don't bother with the flattery, I know I can write well.
Tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I can fix, what sounds weird, what's off or incorrect or disjointed or just plain doesn't flow for some reason. Even if you can't explain it very well. Tell me.
Just say it.
Tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I can fix, what sounds weird, what's off or incorrect or disjointed or just plain doesn't flow for some reason. Even if you can't explain it very well. Tell me.
Just say it.
11.05.2006
I'm only going to say this once, because it's not worth dwelling on.
I hate all of the Seattle WriMos. I mean seriously hate, from the bottom of my being. This event attracts all the wrong sorts of people.
I hate all of the Seattle WriMos. I mean seriously hate, from the bottom of my being. This event attracts all the wrong sorts of people.
10.09.2006
No more talk about the old days
It's time for something great
I keep reading through the backposts here and keep re-realizing that some of my best writing ends up in this blog. I should really back it up again on one of my own hard drives, the last time I did that was two years ago.
Peel all of your layers off
Summer falling beautiful into autumn, but some of the trees are being tricked by the recent cloudless weather and are keeping their greenery for the time being. Things are, uh, interesting with Josiah. Interesting in ways I can't even fully grasp.
He needs some distractions and less paying attention to me all the time. :\ I want him to have as much fun as I'm having. I wish I knew how to get him out into the world, doing more.
Speaking of doing so, Matt and Kyle and I decided that we're going to do that for Skylar. Get him out more and have him do more things with us in public. And hopefully get him to meet a few girls or something. I think Allison and/or Lauren might have some sort of interest in Skylar, but that could entirely be wishful thinking. :(
I wanna get out
And make it work
Things are going well, work is okay, school is okay, my mother is great. I had a wonderful birthday, so wonderful I didn't have the time to post in here on it. I got my nape piercing on the day of, and it's healing very well. A lot of what I want to talk about can't go here yet because it's just begun to happen and I don't want to jump any guns. (Or do I?)
Another piercing after this project is over with. On the wrist! I am hoping it will remind me where my tools are at and to use them from time to time. Lots of artisticky things going on right now. I'll talk about those tomorrow when I have the time.
I want you to get out
And make it work
I'll be okay
It's time for something great
I keep reading through the backposts here and keep re-realizing that some of my best writing ends up in this blog. I should really back it up again on one of my own hard drives, the last time I did that was two years ago.
Peel all of your layers off
Summer falling beautiful into autumn, but some of the trees are being tricked by the recent cloudless weather and are keeping their greenery for the time being. Things are, uh, interesting with Josiah. Interesting in ways I can't even fully grasp.
He needs some distractions and less paying attention to me all the time. :\ I want him to have as much fun as I'm having. I wish I knew how to get him out into the world, doing more.
Speaking of doing so, Matt and Kyle and I decided that we're going to do that for Skylar. Get him out more and have him do more things with us in public. And hopefully get him to meet a few girls or something. I think Allison and/or Lauren might have some sort of interest in Skylar, but that could entirely be wishful thinking. :(
I wanna get out
And make it work
Things are going well, work is okay, school is okay, my mother is great. I had a wonderful birthday, so wonderful I didn't have the time to post in here on it. I got my nape piercing on the day of, and it's healing very well. A lot of what I want to talk about can't go here yet because it's just begun to happen and I don't want to jump any guns. (Or do I?)
Another piercing after this project is over with. On the wrist! I am hoping it will remind me where my tools are at and to use them from time to time. Lots of artisticky things going on right now. I'll talk about those tomorrow when I have the time.
I want you to get out
And make it work
I'll be okay
10.02.2006
I couldn't help myself. It's an adult quiz!
1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Comcast. Fuck you guys and your monopoly on cable internet.
2. What's the best place to eat a romantic dinner?
The Broadway Grill. Really good lighting.
3. Last time you puked from drinking?
Never!
4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?
Hahaha, not yet.
5. Name of your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Williams.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?
In bed with Kyle.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
A spy.
8. How many colleges did you attend?
Two so far.
9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?
It was the only shirt that wasn't in the laundry machines.
10. GAS PRICES! First thought?
That I don't have to pay them. :D
11. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you... where and who?
Japan with Keith, because we could have a contest to see how many people we could bring home over the course of a month. XD
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
No alarm woke me up today, I woke up because the sun was shining in my face. >:[
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Holy shit that party was awesome.
14. Favorite style of underwear?
Pantsu~
15. Favorite style of underwear for the opposite sex?
Boxers fo sho.
16. What errand/chore do you despise?
Depositing my paycheck. Waste of time.
17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer at an art gallery?
Yes.
18. Get up early or sleep in?
Wake up with the sun, or if applicable, the person I'm sleeping next to.
19. What is your favorite cartoon character?
Hmm. I don't know anymore.
20. Favorite NON sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?
Sitting close and talking.
21. A secret that you wouldn't mind everyone knowing?
I like girls SEXUALLY. :O
22. When did you first start feeling old?
I don't feel old yet. :)
23. Favorite 80's movies?
Ugh. NONE.
24. Your favorite lunch meat?
Roast beast.
25. What do you get every time you go into Costco?
Uh. We don't shop at Costco, we shop at PCC. :x
26. Beach or lake?
Beach plz.
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?
Not really, it's evolved into something a bit less rigid and a bit more meaningful.
28. Who do you stalk on MySpace?
Used to stalk Nancy. Now I stalk Myles. :D
29. Favorite guilty pleasure?
Boys. And girls.
30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
Cruel Intentions. ...OH SHI
31. What's your drink?
Coffee liquer.
32. Cowboys or Indians?
Romans.
33. Cops or Robbers?
Sexy, sexy robbers.
38. Who from high school would you like to run into?
That one guy who was three grades older than me so I could hit on him like I always massively wanted to.
39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
Don't have a car. I normally listen to 89.5 or 107.7.
42. Norm or Cliff?
Pears.
43. The Cosby Show or The Simpsons?
Lost.
44. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
Not dating a handful of people I know/knew.
45. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?
Adam sure is quiet. And pretty awesome. So yes.
46. If you could get away with it, who would you kill?
Skylar's ex.
47. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Gore Vidal.
48. What famous person would you like to sleep with?
Christian Bale.
49. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?
No.
50. Last book you read for real?
House of Leaves.
51. Do you have a teddy bear?
No, I have a blankie. :3
52. Strangest place you have ever brushed your teeth?
The woods in the middle of nowhere. Multiple times on multiple occasions.
53. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
Death Valley.
54. Number of texts in a day?
~10
55. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?
Relationship. I like my job way too much.
56. Do you go to church?
LOLZ
57. Pencil or pen?
Pen.
58. bueller??? bueller??? bueller? BUELLER!!!!!!
That is dumb, he never yells it you ass. (Leaving Ross' response here because it's pretty much mine as well.)
59. How many jobs have you had?
8.
60. what are you doing right now besides this survey?
Listening to Muse and humming the kitty between my arms to sleep.
61. What do you want to achieve in life?
A beautiful life.
1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Comcast. Fuck you guys and your monopoly on cable internet.
2. What's the best place to eat a romantic dinner?
The Broadway Grill. Really good lighting.
3. Last time you puked from drinking?
Never!
4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?
Hahaha, not yet.
5. Name of your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Williams.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?
In bed with Kyle.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
A spy.
8. How many colleges did you attend?
Two so far.
9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?
It was the only shirt that wasn't in the laundry machines.
10. GAS PRICES! First thought?
That I don't have to pay them. :D
11. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you... where and who?
Japan with Keith, because we could have a contest to see how many people we could bring home over the course of a month. XD
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
No alarm woke me up today, I woke up because the sun was shining in my face. >:[
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Holy shit that party was awesome.
14. Favorite style of underwear?
Pantsu~
15. Favorite style of underwear for the opposite sex?
Boxers fo sho.
16. What errand/chore do you despise?
Depositing my paycheck. Waste of time.
17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer at an art gallery?
Yes.
18. Get up early or sleep in?
Wake up with the sun, or if applicable, the person I'm sleeping next to.
19. What is your favorite cartoon character?
Hmm. I don't know anymore.
20. Favorite NON sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?
Sitting close and talking.
21. A secret that you wouldn't mind everyone knowing?
I like girls SEXUALLY. :O
22. When did you first start feeling old?
I don't feel old yet. :)
23. Favorite 80's movies?
Ugh. NONE.
24. Your favorite lunch meat?
Roast beast.
25. What do you get every time you go into Costco?
Uh. We don't shop at Costco, we shop at PCC. :x
26. Beach or lake?
Beach plz.
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?
Not really, it's evolved into something a bit less rigid and a bit more meaningful.
28. Who do you stalk on MySpace?
Used to stalk Nancy. Now I stalk Myles. :D
29. Favorite guilty pleasure?
Boys. And girls.
30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
Cruel Intentions. ...OH SHI
31. What's your drink?
Coffee liquer.
32. Cowboys or Indians?
Romans.
33. Cops or Robbers?
Sexy, sexy robbers.
38. Who from high school would you like to run into?
That one guy who was three grades older than me so I could hit on him like I always massively wanted to.
39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
Don't have a car. I normally listen to 89.5 or 107.7.
42. Norm or Cliff?
Pears.
43. The Cosby Show or The Simpsons?
Lost.
44. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
Not dating a handful of people I know/knew.
45. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?
Adam sure is quiet. And pretty awesome. So yes.
46. If you could get away with it, who would you kill?
Skylar's ex.
47. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Gore Vidal.
48. What famous person would you like to sleep with?
Christian Bale.
49. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?
No.
50. Last book you read for real?
House of Leaves.
51. Do you have a teddy bear?
No, I have a blankie. :3
52. Strangest place you have ever brushed your teeth?
The woods in the middle of nowhere. Multiple times on multiple occasions.
53. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
Death Valley.
54. Number of texts in a day?
~10
55. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?
Relationship. I like my job way too much.
56. Do you go to church?
LOLZ
57. Pencil or pen?
Pen.
58. bueller??? bueller??? bueller? BUELLER!!!!!!
That is dumb, he never yells it you ass. (Leaving Ross' response here because it's pretty much mine as well.)
59. How many jobs have you had?
8.
60. what are you doing right now besides this survey?
Listening to Muse and humming the kitty between my arms to sleep.
61. What do you want to achieve in life?
A beautiful life.
9.23.2006
(My memory doesn't have the whole transcription for you all anymore, it's been too long since I heard this. But I felt it apt to post this in light of Clinton finally getting pissed off at all the jabs the media's taking at him.)
Begin: A speech I overheard at Hempfest.
"I am so pissed off. I am very very angry. And do you know who I'm mad at? It's not the people in office. It's not the media. It's you, all of you. You are the reason we are where we are today. We have voted these people into office, and done this to our country.
...
There's a reason they are called public servants. They are our servants, our reach into the running of this country. They should be sitting down by our side, waiting to go running every time we want something done. If we keep voting the same fuckers in, this will keep heppening every single time."
Begin: A speech I overheard at Hempfest.
"I am so pissed off. I am very very angry. And do you know who I'm mad at? It's not the people in office. It's not the media. It's you, all of you. You are the reason we are where we are today. We have voted these people into office, and done this to our country.
...
There's a reason they are called public servants. They are our servants, our reach into the running of this country. They should be sitting down by our side, waiting to go running every time we want something done. If we keep voting the same fuckers in, this will keep heppening every single time."
9.19.2006
9.16.2006
Whenever you need me I'll be here
Until then my dear
I'm going, I'm going, I'm going there
Don't ask me to make time
To travel back and forth
Let nature take it's course
Beautiful fall days. Just absolutely lifting to my thought-heavy mind. Helps carry the weight. The adventures I've been having lately have been beautiful subdued moments.
Fall is wonderful. :3
Maybe I'm open from all this ocean air
And if it weren't for you I'd be without a care
Setting sail to St. Elsewhere
Until then my dear
I'm going, I'm going, I'm going there
Don't ask me to make time
To travel back and forth
Let nature take it's course
Beautiful fall days. Just absolutely lifting to my thought-heavy mind. Helps carry the weight. The adventures I've been having lately have been beautiful subdued moments.
Fall is wonderful. :3
Maybe I'm open from all this ocean air
And if it weren't for you I'd be without a care
Setting sail to St. Elsewhere
8.30.2006
Get up
If you wanna survive
Get oh so alive
In your life everything
Falling out the sky on top of you
Now what you do
It takes too much work to formulate words into sentences. I have handfuls of individual beads and no string. I have more than I can hold, even, and they just kind of roll around all over the place inside my mouth. Very few actually coming out.
Things I want to try:
- Sex with some really good music in the background.
- Building something.
- Ridiculously awkward date with someone I'm ridiculously attracted to.
- Picnic.
- Conversation in Japanese.
Now I've got this picture of someone vomitting beads lodged in my head. What is it with all the references to vomitting lately?
Give up
If you wanna survive
Pick the sun back up
You got to get on the song lowly
What's the point
It's funny till you're left to kill yourself
In this town
So what's the matter with me?
If you wanna survive
Get oh so alive
In your life everything
Falling out the sky on top of you
Now what you do
It takes too much work to formulate words into sentences. I have handfuls of individual beads and no string. I have more than I can hold, even, and they just kind of roll around all over the place inside my mouth. Very few actually coming out.
Things I want to try:
- Sex with some really good music in the background.
- Building something.
- Ridiculously awkward date with someone I'm ridiculously attracted to.
- Picnic.
- Conversation in Japanese.
Now I've got this picture of someone vomitting beads lodged in my head. What is it with all the references to vomitting lately?
Give up
If you wanna survive
Pick the sun back up
You got to get on the song lowly
What's the point
It's funny till you're left to kill yourself
In this town
So what's the matter with me?
8.27.2006
8.26.2006
One last thing before I shuffle off the planet
I will be the one to make you crawl
So I came down to wish you an unhappy birthday
Someone call the ambulance
There's gonna be an accident
I think it would be better for both of us if I just left you.
You can have something to be angry at, something to blame it all on. Someone to shake your head at, point out all the flaws of to others as you explain why you've ben so carelessly wronged, and it would be easier for you. You would have something to get over, to move past, and you can be happy with someone who appreciates you for who you are. They will genuinely like you, and not be so confused about who they are. I'm sure someone closer to your own age, with their own experiences already set into place, would suit you better.
I'm coming up on infrared
There is no running that can hide you
Cause I can see in the dark
I don't want anything tying me down. I don't want a weakness, a love. It's easier to mourn something you've already destroyed than constantly worry about whether something you have is going to get damaged. And it's not JUST because this would be easier, you should know better than to even think this by now (yet another of my qualms with you), but it pops into your head so easily to object on that one phrase said, "it's easier." Ridiculous.
I hate what you are. So preposterously inhuman, so impossible to figure out. I find humans disgusting, but at least they have a beautiful side at times. You're made of nothing but hideous logic, ugly rational thinking, linear trains of thought on one-way rails to predisposed destinations. Full of objections, retorts, responses. Whatever you are is WORSE than human, lower than human, by-product waste of a species, the one that went wrong somehow.
(I'm not even sorry I'm saying this.)
That's the anger talking. I would remove that, but you want to know the truth, you want honesty, you want to squeeze and coax and suck every single last bit of me right out of my skull. Why don't you drill a hole and help yourself already instead of dragging it all out through my mouth with such suction that I have constant headaches?
One more thing before we start the final face-off
I will be the one to watch you fall
So I came down to crash and burn your beggar's banquet
Someone call the ambulance
There's gonna be an accident
I am frightened at how little I am feeling right now. Pleasantly free of emotion. Some scattered clouds of rage, but on the whole, I feel nothing for you. The closer I look at you, watching your actions, scrutinizing everything that you do, I care less and less. I no longer see what was so great about you. My ties to you were largely self-created and maintained, and now that I no longer have the urge to maintain them, well. This is just an emotionally-driven waste of time, and neither of us should be spending any time on it. I think there is something so wrong with you to make you enjoy this at all.
None of this makes sense and for the first time in so long, I don't even care to think it through. I don't think it through. When I've told you I need time to think, I've been trying to dredge up something to think about, and I come up empty-handed. I just don't give a single fucking care to any of this.
All or nothing this is love, right? I'm choosing nothing. I die alone.
I'm coming up on infrared
Forget your running
I will find you
10/09/06 Edit: Don't put much stock in these words, it was just an outpouring of pain and uncertainty.
I will be the one to make you crawl
So I came down to wish you an unhappy birthday
Someone call the ambulance
There's gonna be an accident
I think it would be better for both of us if I just left you.
You can have something to be angry at, something to blame it all on. Someone to shake your head at, point out all the flaws of to others as you explain why you've ben so carelessly wronged, and it would be easier for you. You would have something to get over, to move past, and you can be happy with someone who appreciates you for who you are. They will genuinely like you, and not be so confused about who they are. I'm sure someone closer to your own age, with their own experiences already set into place, would suit you better.
I'm coming up on infrared
There is no running that can hide you
Cause I can see in the dark
I don't want anything tying me down. I don't want a weakness, a love. It's easier to mourn something you've already destroyed than constantly worry about whether something you have is going to get damaged. And it's not JUST because this would be easier, you should know better than to even think this by now (yet another of my qualms with you), but it pops into your head so easily to object on that one phrase said, "it's easier." Ridiculous.
I hate what you are. So preposterously inhuman, so impossible to figure out. I find humans disgusting, but at least they have a beautiful side at times. You're made of nothing but hideous logic, ugly rational thinking, linear trains of thought on one-way rails to predisposed destinations. Full of objections, retorts, responses. Whatever you are is WORSE than human, lower than human, by-product waste of a species, the one that went wrong somehow.
(I'm not even sorry I'm saying this.)
That's the anger talking. I would remove that, but you want to know the truth, you want honesty, you want to squeeze and coax and suck every single last bit of me right out of my skull. Why don't you drill a hole and help yourself already instead of dragging it all out through my mouth with such suction that I have constant headaches?
One more thing before we start the final face-off
I will be the one to watch you fall
So I came down to crash and burn your beggar's banquet
Someone call the ambulance
There's gonna be an accident
I am frightened at how little I am feeling right now. Pleasantly free of emotion. Some scattered clouds of rage, but on the whole, I feel nothing for you. The closer I look at you, watching your actions, scrutinizing everything that you do, I care less and less. I no longer see what was so great about you. My ties to you were largely self-created and maintained, and now that I no longer have the urge to maintain them, well. This is just an emotionally-driven waste of time, and neither of us should be spending any time on it. I think there is something so wrong with you to make you enjoy this at all.
None of this makes sense and for the first time in so long, I don't even care to think it through. I don't think it through. When I've told you I need time to think, I've been trying to dredge up something to think about, and I come up empty-handed. I just don't give a single fucking care to any of this.
All or nothing this is love, right? I'm choosing nothing. I die alone.
I'm coming up on infrared
Forget your running
I will find you
10/09/06 Edit: Don't put much stock in these words, it was just an outpouring of pain and uncertainty.
8.23.2006
I can't hold this day anymore
Understand me anymore
To tread this fantasy openly
What have I done
The need to write is welling up inside me. The back of my brain is in overdrive, spilling over into other parts, leaking spinal fluid. Cerebral cortex. Prefrontal cortex. Cerebellum. Wires crossed. Everything's stimulated. Walk when I should speak, press when I should listen, watch when I should grasp. It'll come up soon, burst soon, all over this blog and my spiral and I will not be able to stop writing. My fingers will move of their own volition, creeping over paper, taking pen in hand, wield it against the blankness of unsoiled paper. Moving along while the other hand struggles to grasp at concepts that I refuse to believe are true.
Truths:
- I will be leaving this state and moving to another.
- I want things I can't have.
- I have things I can't want.
Pouring through my fingers.
I can't mould this stage anymore
Recognize me anymore
To tread this fantasy openly
What have I done
I can't imagine not having you two here. I can't imagine, will not know until it's upon me. The feeling of an empty bed, of empty hands and empty eyes, empty ears. Hollowed out spaces all around me where limbs and words and lips should be. Where everything was in its place. I choke on the thought of loss. Such a foreign concept to someone who is nothing but has everything.
(I guess it's already pouring out.)
Low and high. Satisfied and furiously unsated. I can feel the fluid movements in my limbs trying to come out, want to spread out like a jellyfish and absorb the thoughts of everyone around me. I want to seize, conquer. Relish in victory over self.
I am afraid I will find myself in your room waiting, trap waiting to spring, seize, tear into. I want to wind myself up and hide myself someplace I can snap shut on you.
You should have taken me in that bed, in that hotel room, in that car. Should have should have. Regrets. All mine.
My self control isn't used to such violent opposition. It's been a while.
Is taking me over
Understand me anymore
To tread this fantasy openly
What have I done
The need to write is welling up inside me. The back of my brain is in overdrive, spilling over into other parts, leaking spinal fluid. Cerebral cortex. Prefrontal cortex. Cerebellum. Wires crossed. Everything's stimulated. Walk when I should speak, press when I should listen, watch when I should grasp. It'll come up soon, burst soon, all over this blog and my spiral and I will not be able to stop writing. My fingers will move of their own volition, creeping over paper, taking pen in hand, wield it against the blankness of unsoiled paper. Moving along while the other hand struggles to grasp at concepts that I refuse to believe are true.
Truths:
- I will be leaving this state and moving to another.
- I want things I can't have.
- I have things I can't want.
Pouring through my fingers.
I can't mould this stage anymore
Recognize me anymore
To tread this fantasy openly
What have I done
I can't imagine not having you two here. I can't imagine, will not know until it's upon me. The feeling of an empty bed, of empty hands and empty eyes, empty ears. Hollowed out spaces all around me where limbs and words and lips should be. Where everything was in its place. I choke on the thought of loss. Such a foreign concept to someone who is nothing but has everything.
(I guess it's already pouring out.)
Low and high. Satisfied and furiously unsated. I can feel the fluid movements in my limbs trying to come out, want to spread out like a jellyfish and absorb the thoughts of everyone around me. I want to seize, conquer. Relish in victory over self.
I am afraid I will find myself in your room waiting, trap waiting to spring, seize, tear into. I want to wind myself up and hide myself someplace I can snap shut on you.
You should have taken me in that bed, in that hotel room, in that car. Should have should have. Regrets. All mine.
My self control isn't used to such violent opposition. It's been a while.
Is taking me over
8.19.2006
From something I sent to Myles, only more detailed for this space:
The euphoria wore off a long time ago. I'm aware it dies, and it dies with a whisper. Your making love is a foreign concept to me. All I've known is devouring, and distinctly remember the last time I was drunk on love. It was about three years ago.
I know what would be best for me. I know I can't bring myself to let go as much as I want to, but the more I look, the more I see that we are better off separated for now. Maybe we can reconvene when we've both grown, when more has been figured out. I don't know. That's not important, the far-flung future's just not important right now.
However, the euphoria was not the relationship. There was something here besides that, I felt it living inside us. However, as is the case with the most passionate and violent of encounters, two stars gravitating into each other (oh, come on, you all were expecting the astronomical analogies some day, what better time to use them?) until the separation between them becomes blurred, and then disappears, and you have a brighter star working as hard as it can to burn itself out faster, faster. And then it has, and it explodes over thousands of years, showering everything around it in slow motion. Its remnants, its ruin, everywhere.
We would flourish apart. Together we wither. The self-destruction and entropy of all-consuming love is like bleeding to death: slow, inevitable. You can watch the star die right before your eyes, in one final exhale.
What's happening right now can only be explained as a relationship's death throes. If there's any disagreement here, please, someone prove me wrong.
The euphoria wore off a long time ago. I'm aware it dies, and it dies with a whisper. Your making love is a foreign concept to me. All I've known is devouring, and distinctly remember the last time I was drunk on love. It was about three years ago.
I know what would be best for me. I know I can't bring myself to let go as much as I want to, but the more I look, the more I see that we are better off separated for now. Maybe we can reconvene when we've both grown, when more has been figured out. I don't know. That's not important, the far-flung future's just not important right now.
However, the euphoria was not the relationship. There was something here besides that, I felt it living inside us. However, as is the case with the most passionate and violent of encounters, two stars gravitating into each other (oh, come on, you all were expecting the astronomical analogies some day, what better time to use them?) until the separation between them becomes blurred, and then disappears, and you have a brighter star working as hard as it can to burn itself out faster, faster. And then it has, and it explodes over thousands of years, showering everything around it in slow motion. Its remnants, its ruin, everywhere.
We would flourish apart. Together we wither. The self-destruction and entropy of all-consuming love is like bleeding to death: slow, inevitable. You can watch the star die right before your eyes, in one final exhale.
What's happening right now can only be explained as a relationship's death throes. If there's any disagreement here, please, someone prove me wrong.
8.18.2006
Cataloguing myself, that the future might know and understand who I am through my arranged collection of thoughts placed here.
Dear me, years from now. You better have done great things with yourself.
1. Your scars, how did you get them?
A lot of them I gave to myself. We had fleas from the dogs, and I was a rough and tumble girl growing up. Notable scars: top of my left foot from a burn, cleft of my lip from falling off a metal stool.
2. What is on the walls of your room?
Two Lain wallscrolls.
3. Do you snore, grind your teeth, talk in your sleep?
I snore a little, I have a sinus/ear canal problem (thanks mom).
4. What music do you listen to?
Placebo, Gorillaz, Supreme Beings of Leisure, Muse, other stuff. Trip-hop and/or inventive, please.
5. Do you know what time you were born?
8:56 pm.
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
To be free.
7. What do you miss?
Sitting on my window sill, singing and writing and watching the world.
8. Most prized possessions?
My boxes of writing. My books, my visual diary, my blog, my secret journal. Myself.
9. How tall are you?
5' 2"
10. Do you get claustrophobic?
No, but I also don't like being constricted by a lot of things.
11. Do you get scared in the dark?
Not likely. Maybe by myself in the middle of the woods.
12. The last person to make you cry?
Myself.
13. What is your favorite cologne on a guy?
I hate cologne. Parfum is better; something crisp.
14. What kind of hair/eye color do you like on the opposite sex?
Dark brown, or certain shades of red for hair. I don't have a preference for eyes anymore, lighter colors no longer bother me much.
15. Where can you see yourself proposing?
With a gun to my head.
16. Coffee or energy drink?
Coffee plz.
17. What is your favorite pizza topping?
Meat.
18. If you could anything to eat right now, what would it be?
Oog. Nothing, I've got what I need. (Energy drink. o_O)
20. Have you ever eaten a goldfish?
Uh. :( No. How sad.
21. What was the first gift someone ever gave you?
Hmm. I'll just go by non-relatives I suppose. I distinctly remember this awesome dolphin shirt I got from my best friend in 5th grade.
22. Do you like anybody?
Plenty of people. Enough to keep me on my toes wherever I go.
23. Are you double jointed?
Noop.
24. Favorite clothing brand?
Ohhhh I don't know. Rubbish, how about.
25. Do you like the city you live in?
Seattle yes. Bellevue no.
26. Do you have a pet right now?
Yep.
27. What kind?
Cats. Three cats.
28. Would you fall in love knowing that the person is leaving?
Oh, definitely.
29. What is the best way to tell someone how much they mean to you?
Hmm. Create a work of art for them.
30. Say a number from 1 to 100:
56
31. Blondes or brunettes?
Brunettes.
32. What is the one number you call often?
Zite.
33. What annoys you the most?
Oh God, my creative process being interrupted.
34. Have you been out of the USA?
Canada and Mexico. As far as North Vancouver, and Ensenada, respectively.
35. Your weaknesses?
My own innate humanness.
36. Met anyone famous?
Eh. I don't take famousness into consideration like, ever. I'm sure I have, I just don't care whether they are or not.
37. First job?
Hot Topic.
38. Ever done a prank call?
Yeah. Go go suburban boredom.
39. What were you doing before you filled this out?
The last final little bit of my homework.
40. Have you ever had surgery?
Oral surgery once. See below. Otherwise, no.
41. Have you had your wisdom teeth removed?
Yes, all four of them. I remember it sucking.
42. What do you get compliments about most?
Ah... Being really smart.
43. Have you ever had braces?
Yes. 2.5 years. I still have a piece of metal in my mouf.
44. What do you want for your birthday?
A roadtrip next summer.
45. How many kids do you want?
Two or none.
46. Were you named after anyone?
My mom got the name idea from Adrienne Barbeau, but I'm not really named after her.
47. Do you wish on stars?
I wished on a shooting star within the last few weeks.
48. What did you do today?
Went to work, got a lot done, showed Skylar my writing sample (he liked it), fucked up and forgot about my ROM for way longer than I should have (lack of sleep last night boo), waved at Myles, had some bleh yakisoba. Doing my homework. Filling this out. Chilling. Listening to some Placebo. Having a good day.
49. What kind of shampoo do you use?
Garnier Fructis. Smells like fruit salad. <3
50. Do you like your handwriting?
Yes! I shaped it to my own preferences.
51. What is your favorite lunch meat?
Roast boeuf.
52. Any bad habits?
Eh. Restlessness.
53. What is your most embarrassing CD on the shelf?
None of my music embarrasses me.
54. If you were another person, would you be friends with yourself?
In some vague sense, where we'd drink coffee together, fuck, and talk about something relating to the universe and its connections while we have a smoke and delve deeper into the conversation. Catching each other unaware, looking pensive and irresistably sexy. That would be just awesome right now, to have someone to do that with.
55. Favorite time of the day?
Evening, dusk, night. Definitely.
56. Do looks matter?
Most of the time, no, but once I catch the curiosity bug, and then the mental attraction ensues, it's nigh impossible to not find them physically attractive for some reason.
57. How do you release anger?
Writing.
58. Where is your second home?
Writing.
59. Who is your famous crush?
Christian Bale. His dedication to his art gets me hot.
60. What was your favorite toy as a child?
A pen and some paper. My imagination.
61. How many numbers are in your cell phone?
62. I counted. HAH.
62. Were you a fan of Barney as a kid?
I was at three. Kinda? And then I moved on to better pasteurs, like motherfuckin' Rugrats, yeah.
63. Do you use sarcasm?
Mmyes.
64. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
Eh, no.
65. What do you look for in a guy/girl?
Guys: A brain, some sort of similar interests, perpetual thirst for discussion and knowledge, dangerous curiosity about the world, interesting things to say, reminds me of myself, somewhat artistic. (I settle for less here for whatever reason.)
Girls: Knows when to shut up, artistic edge, reads a lot, likes sharing her ideas, adventurous, rational.
66. What are your nicknames?
Sawa, S4W4, Sphyx, Omni, Omnipresence, Hunter, Fox, Cheshire Cat.
67. What's your favorite band/singer?
Uh. I have no specific preferences beyond good to listen to, meaningful, good composition.
68. What's your favorite TV show?
Lost. I don't watch anything else.
69. What was your ACT/SAT score?
1350
70. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
Cake batter.
71. Do you have all your fingers and toes?
Yep.
72. When was the last time you worked out?
The last time I played tennis, possibly a few days ago.
73. Who/what do you miss most right now?
My freedom.
74. What's the fastest you have gone in a car?
110 mph
75. Do you want everyone to answer these questions?
If they want to. I'd like to know why/why not the people I know would be friends with themselves.
76. What are you listening to?
Gorillaz - 5/4
77. Last thing you drank?
Elements energy drink, fire flavor. (Dragonfruit.)
78. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Josiah.
79. The first thing you notice in the opposite sex?
Any modicum of intellect.
80. Favorite thought-provoking song?
Nothing specific, mostly Muse and Gorillaz right now.
81. Favorite thing(s) to hate?
Human nature, restriction.
82. Favorite month of the year?
June.
83. Favorite zodiac sign?
Mine. Libra. Balanced and balancing.
84. Favorite sport?
Tennis, right now.
85. What is your hair color?
Blueblack.
86. Eye color?
Gray, forever.
87. Shoe size?
7
88. Siblings?
1 brother.
89. Favorite fastfood restaurant?
None, really, but if I'd have to pick, Wendy's.
90. You like sushi?
Hells yeah. Unagi and tako.
91. Last thing you watched?
Motherfuckin' snakes on a motherfuckin' plane!
92. Favorite day of the year?
Those very few days where it's somewhat windy, and sunny, and there are some huge white clouds in the sky, and everything just feels right and in its place.
93. Play any musical instruments?
Nah. Not yet. Haven't the time.
94. Republican or democrat.
Indelibertarian. If that makes any sense.
95. Kisses or hugs?
Neither. A long, deep, drawn out conversation. With thoughtful staring off into nothing.
96. Relationships or one night stands?
Neither. I pretty much described what I want right now in the "be your own friend" question.
97. What was the last thing you bought?
Food-wise: Sammich and pasta salad.
Thing-wise: A book on American History.
98. What kind of car do you drive?
I don't. You're welcome, environment.
99. What book are you reading?
Invitation to a Beheading by Nabokov. I'm waiting for the person who destroyed the first copy to replace it with a new one so I can finish it.
100. Are you in love?
In love, no. Loving, yes. Able to love, yes. I'm not interested in love right now, I'm interested in human connections that defy definition and make a lasting impression on me.
101. Mashed potatoes or macaroni and cheese?
Both pretty much equally.
Dear me, years from now. You better have done great things with yourself.
1. Your scars, how did you get them?
A lot of them I gave to myself. We had fleas from the dogs, and I was a rough and tumble girl growing up. Notable scars: top of my left foot from a burn, cleft of my lip from falling off a metal stool.
2. What is on the walls of your room?
Two Lain wallscrolls.
3. Do you snore, grind your teeth, talk in your sleep?
I snore a little, I have a sinus/ear canal problem (thanks mom).
4. What music do you listen to?
Placebo, Gorillaz, Supreme Beings of Leisure, Muse, other stuff. Trip-hop and/or inventive, please.
5. Do you know what time you were born?
8:56 pm.
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
To be free.
7. What do you miss?
Sitting on my window sill, singing and writing and watching the world.
8. Most prized possessions?
My boxes of writing. My books, my visual diary, my blog, my secret journal. Myself.
9. How tall are you?
5' 2"
10. Do you get claustrophobic?
No, but I also don't like being constricted by a lot of things.
11. Do you get scared in the dark?
Not likely. Maybe by myself in the middle of the woods.
12. The last person to make you cry?
Myself.
13. What is your favorite cologne on a guy?
I hate cologne. Parfum is better; something crisp.
14. What kind of hair/eye color do you like on the opposite sex?
Dark brown, or certain shades of red for hair. I don't have a preference for eyes anymore, lighter colors no longer bother me much.
15. Where can you see yourself proposing?
With a gun to my head.
16. Coffee or energy drink?
Coffee plz.
17. What is your favorite pizza topping?
Meat.
18. If you could anything to eat right now, what would it be?
Oog. Nothing, I've got what I need. (Energy drink. o_O)
20. Have you ever eaten a goldfish?
Uh. :( No. How sad.
21. What was the first gift someone ever gave you?
Hmm. I'll just go by non-relatives I suppose. I distinctly remember this awesome dolphin shirt I got from my best friend in 5th grade.
22. Do you like anybody?
Plenty of people. Enough to keep me on my toes wherever I go.
23. Are you double jointed?
Noop.
24. Favorite clothing brand?
Ohhhh I don't know. Rubbish, how about.
25. Do you like the city you live in?
Seattle yes. Bellevue no.
26. Do you have a pet right now?
Yep.
27. What kind?
Cats. Three cats.
28. Would you fall in love knowing that the person is leaving?
Oh, definitely.
29. What is the best way to tell someone how much they mean to you?
Hmm. Create a work of art for them.
30. Say a number from 1 to 100:
56
31. Blondes or brunettes?
Brunettes.
32. What is the one number you call often?
Zite.
33. What annoys you the most?
Oh God, my creative process being interrupted.
34. Have you been out of the USA?
Canada and Mexico. As far as North Vancouver, and Ensenada, respectively.
35. Your weaknesses?
My own innate humanness.
36. Met anyone famous?
Eh. I don't take famousness into consideration like, ever. I'm sure I have, I just don't care whether they are or not.
37. First job?
Hot Topic.
38. Ever done a prank call?
Yeah. Go go suburban boredom.
39. What were you doing before you filled this out?
The last final little bit of my homework.
40. Have you ever had surgery?
Oral surgery once. See below. Otherwise, no.
41. Have you had your wisdom teeth removed?
Yes, all four of them. I remember it sucking.
42. What do you get compliments about most?
Ah... Being really smart.
43. Have you ever had braces?
Yes. 2.5 years. I still have a piece of metal in my mouf.
44. What do you want for your birthday?
A roadtrip next summer.
45. How many kids do you want?
Two or none.
46. Were you named after anyone?
My mom got the name idea from Adrienne Barbeau, but I'm not really named after her.
47. Do you wish on stars?
I wished on a shooting star within the last few weeks.
48. What did you do today?
Went to work, got a lot done, showed Skylar my writing sample (he liked it), fucked up and forgot about my ROM for way longer than I should have (lack of sleep last night boo), waved at Myles, had some bleh yakisoba. Doing my homework. Filling this out. Chilling. Listening to some Placebo. Having a good day.
49. What kind of shampoo do you use?
Garnier Fructis. Smells like fruit salad. <3
50. Do you like your handwriting?
Yes! I shaped it to my own preferences.
51. What is your favorite lunch meat?
Roast boeuf.
52. Any bad habits?
Eh. Restlessness.
53. What is your most embarrassing CD on the shelf?
None of my music embarrasses me.
54. If you were another person, would you be friends with yourself?
In some vague sense, where we'd drink coffee together, fuck, and talk about something relating to the universe and its connections while we have a smoke and delve deeper into the conversation. Catching each other unaware, looking pensive and irresistably sexy. That would be just awesome right now, to have someone to do that with.
55. Favorite time of the day?
Evening, dusk, night. Definitely.
56. Do looks matter?
Most of the time, no, but once I catch the curiosity bug, and then the mental attraction ensues, it's nigh impossible to not find them physically attractive for some reason.
57. How do you release anger?
Writing.
58. Where is your second home?
Writing.
59. Who is your famous crush?
Christian Bale. His dedication to his art gets me hot.
60. What was your favorite toy as a child?
A pen and some paper. My imagination.
61. How many numbers are in your cell phone?
62. I counted. HAH.
62. Were you a fan of Barney as a kid?
I was at three. Kinda? And then I moved on to better pasteurs, like motherfuckin' Rugrats, yeah.
63. Do you use sarcasm?
Mmyes.
64. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
Eh, no.
65. What do you look for in a guy/girl?
Guys: A brain, some sort of similar interests, perpetual thirst for discussion and knowledge, dangerous curiosity about the world, interesting things to say, reminds me of myself, somewhat artistic. (I settle for less here for whatever reason.)
Girls: Knows when to shut up, artistic edge, reads a lot, likes sharing her ideas, adventurous, rational.
66. What are your nicknames?
Sawa, S4W4, Sphyx, Omni, Omnipresence, Hunter, Fox, Cheshire Cat.
67. What's your favorite band/singer?
Uh. I have no specific preferences beyond good to listen to, meaningful, good composition.
68. What's your favorite TV show?
Lost. I don't watch anything else.
69. What was your ACT/SAT score?
1350
70. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
Cake batter.
71. Do you have all your fingers and toes?
Yep.
72. When was the last time you worked out?
The last time I played tennis, possibly a few days ago.
73. Who/what do you miss most right now?
My freedom.
74. What's the fastest you have gone in a car?
110 mph
75. Do you want everyone to answer these questions?
If they want to. I'd like to know why/why not the people I know would be friends with themselves.
76. What are you listening to?
Gorillaz - 5/4
77. Last thing you drank?
Elements energy drink, fire flavor. (Dragonfruit.)
78. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Josiah.
79. The first thing you notice in the opposite sex?
Any modicum of intellect.
80. Favorite thought-provoking song?
Nothing specific, mostly Muse and Gorillaz right now.
81. Favorite thing(s) to hate?
Human nature, restriction.
82. Favorite month of the year?
June.
83. Favorite zodiac sign?
Mine. Libra. Balanced and balancing.
84. Favorite sport?
Tennis, right now.
85. What is your hair color?
Blueblack.
86. Eye color?
Gray, forever.
87. Shoe size?
7
88. Siblings?
1 brother.
89. Favorite fastfood restaurant?
None, really, but if I'd have to pick, Wendy's.
90. You like sushi?
Hells yeah. Unagi and tako.
91. Last thing you watched?
Motherfuckin' snakes on a motherfuckin' plane!
92. Favorite day of the year?
Those very few days where it's somewhat windy, and sunny, and there are some huge white clouds in the sky, and everything just feels right and in its place.
93. Play any musical instruments?
Nah. Not yet. Haven't the time.
94. Republican or democrat.
Indelibertarian. If that makes any sense.
95. Kisses or hugs?
Neither. A long, deep, drawn out conversation. With thoughtful staring off into nothing.
96. Relationships or one night stands?
Neither. I pretty much described what I want right now in the "be your own friend" question.
97. What was the last thing you bought?
Food-wise: Sammich and pasta salad.
Thing-wise: A book on American History.
98. What kind of car do you drive?
I don't. You're welcome, environment.
99. What book are you reading?
Invitation to a Beheading by Nabokov. I'm waiting for the person who destroyed the first copy to replace it with a new one so I can finish it.
100. Are you in love?
In love, no. Loving, yes. Able to love, yes. I'm not interested in love right now, I'm interested in human connections that defy definition and make a lasting impression on me.
101. Mashed potatoes or macaroni and cheese?
Both pretty much equally.
8.13.2006
The breath of the morning
I keep forgetting
The smell of the warm summer air
I live in a town
Where you can't smell a thing
You watch your feet
For cracks in the pavement
Mmmm. Nice chill day. Perfect for relaxing.
Up above
Aliens hover
Making home movies
For the folks back home
Of all these weird creatures
Who lock up their spirits
Drill holes in themselves
And live for their secrets
They're all uptight
Uptight
Even this homework isn't bothering me.
: )
I wish that they'd swoop down in a country lane
Late at night when I'm driving
Take me on board their beautiful ship
Show me the world as I'd love to see it
I'd tell all my friends
But they'd never believe
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely
I'd show them the stars
And the meaning of life
They'd shut me away
But I'd be all right
All right
I keep forgetting
The smell of the warm summer air
I live in a town
Where you can't smell a thing
You watch your feet
For cracks in the pavement
Mmmm. Nice chill day. Perfect for relaxing.
Up above
Aliens hover
Making home movies
For the folks back home
Of all these weird creatures
Who lock up their spirits
Drill holes in themselves
And live for their secrets
They're all uptight
Uptight
Even this homework isn't bothering me.
: )
I wish that they'd swoop down in a country lane
Late at night when I'm driving
Take me on board their beautiful ship
Show me the world as I'd love to see it
I'd tell all my friends
But they'd never believe
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely
I'd show them the stars
And the meaning of life
They'd shut me away
But I'd be all right
All right
8.12.2006
"Atheism does not require you to believe that there is no god. Atheism is more or less the following position at its base:
'I do not know if there is a god or gods, however as I have no evidence to make me conclude that one or more exists I have no reason to believe in one or more gods.' This does not rely on absence of evidence = evidence of absence, it mere states that one requires evidence before belief.
Agnosticism is usually thought of as the 'middle ground' but it actually makes a claim (so does theism), while atheism does not. The agnostic position requires the belief that there is no way of proving or disproving god or gods existence. To demonstrate what I mean by this:
1. Evidence is found that god or gods exist/s.
In this situation theist claims are proved correct, while agnostic claims are proved incorrect.
2. Evidence is found that disproves god or gods
In this situation theist claims are proved incorrect and agnostic claims are proved incorrect.
In neither situation is an atheist proved wrong. We presently have no evidence worth the paper it is written on that there is or is not a god or gods.
A strong atheist actively believes there is no god on the basis of absence of evidence = evidence of absence. This would normally be something completely irrational to believe in, however the sheer amount of time humanity has spent looking for gods and the fact we have found no evidence whatsoever makes the position somewhat more reasonable."
'I do not know if there is a god or gods, however as I have no evidence to make me conclude that one or more exists I have no reason to believe in one or more gods.' This does not rely on absence of evidence = evidence of absence, it mere states that one requires evidence before belief.
Agnosticism is usually thought of as the 'middle ground' but it actually makes a claim (so does theism), while atheism does not. The agnostic position requires the belief that there is no way of proving or disproving god or gods existence. To demonstrate what I mean by this:
1. Evidence is found that god or gods exist/s.
In this situation theist claims are proved correct, while agnostic claims are proved incorrect.
2. Evidence is found that disproves god or gods
In this situation theist claims are proved incorrect and agnostic claims are proved incorrect.
In neither situation is an atheist proved wrong. We presently have no evidence worth the paper it is written on that there is or is not a god or gods.
A strong atheist actively believes there is no god on the basis of absence of evidence = evidence of absence. This would normally be something completely irrational to believe in, however the sheer amount of time humanity has spent looking for gods and the fact we have found no evidence whatsoever makes the position somewhat more reasonable."
8.08.2006
Magic on me
Really got me down
Invade the city
It make my heart beat no sound
Oh God, so busy. Erk. Homework every day, every waking moment, every break, every pause, full of homework.
Fuck this HIS 111 term paper so hard. So sick of that class. God, I hate American History almost as much as I hate that my gut instinct about Nancy was right.
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Really got me down
Invade the city
It make my heart beat no sound
Oh God, so busy. Erk. Homework every day, every waking moment, every break, every pause, full of homework.
Fuck this HIS 111 term paper so hard. So sick of that class. God, I hate American History almost as much as I hate that my gut instinct about Nancy was right.
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
8.03.2006
I just go crazy like the good old days
I was going to read this to you. You're not here to hear it anymore, so I'll just leave it here so I don't forget.
---
I know something, yes...but even now, when it is all over anyway, even now -- I am afraid that I may corrupt someone? Or will nothing come of what I am trying to tell, its only vestiges being the corpses of strangled words, like hanged men...evening silhouettes of gammas and gerunds, gallow crows -- I think I should prefer the rope, since I know authoritatively and irrevocably that it shall be the ax; a little time gained, time, which is now so precious to me that I value every respite, every postponement... I mean time allotted to thinking; the furlough I allow my thoughts for a free journey from fact to fantasy and return... I mean much more besides, but lack of writing skill, haste, excitement, weakness... I know something. I know something. But expression of it comes so hard! No, I cannot... I would like to give up -- yet I have the feeling of boiling and rising, a tickling, which may drive you mad if you do not express it somehow. Oh no, I do not gloat over my own person, I do not get all hot wrestling with my soul in a darkened room; I have no desires, save the desire to express myself -- in defiance of all the world's muteness.
How frightened I am. How sick with fright. But no one shall take me away from myself. I am frightened -- and now I am losing some thread, which I held so palpably only a moment ago. Where is it? It has slipped out of my grasp! I am trembling over the paper, chewing the pencil through to the lead, hunching over to conceal myself from the door through which a piercing eye stings me in the nape, and it seems I am right on the verge of crumpling everything and tearing it up. I am here through an error -- not in this prison, specifically -- but in this whole terrible, striped world; a world which seems not a bad example of amateur craftsmanship, but is in reality calamity, horror, madness, error -- and look, the curio slays the tourist, the gigantic carved bear brings its wooden mallet down upon me.
And yet, ever since early childhood, I have had dreams... In my dreams the world was ennobled, spiritualized; people whom in the waking state I feared so much appeared there in a shimmering refraction, just as if they were imbued with and enveloped by that vibration of light which in sultry weather inspires the very outlines of objects with life; their voices, their step, the expressions of their eyes and even of their clothes -- acquired an exciting significance; to put it more simply, in my dreams the world would come alive, becoming so captivatingly majestic, free and ethereal, that afterwards it would be oppressive to breathe the dust of this painted life.
But then I have long since grown accustomed to the promise of reality, a foreglimpse and a whiff of it; that is, they contain, in a very vague, diluted state, more genuine reality than our vaunted waking life which, in its turn, is semi-sleep, an evil drowsiness into which penetrate in grotesque disguise the sounds and sights of the real world, flowing beyond the periphery of the mind -- as when you hear during sleep a dreadful insidious tale because a branch is scraping on the pane, or see yourself sinking into snow because your blanket is sliding off. But how I fear awakening! How I fear that second, or rather split second, already cut short then, when, with a lumberjack's grunt -- But what is there to fear? Will it not be for me simply the shadow of an ax, and shall I not hear the downward vigorous grunt with the ear of a different world?
Still I am afraid! One cannot write it off so easily. Neither is it good that my thoughts keep getting sucked into the cavity of the future -- I want to think about something else, clarify other things... but I write obscurely and limply, like Pushkin's lyrical duelist. Soon, I think, I shall evolve a third eye on the back of my neck, between my brittle vertebrae: a mad eye, wide open, with a dilating pupil and pink venation on the glossy ball. Keep away! Even stronger, more hoarsely: hands off! I can foresee it all! And how often do my ears ring with the sob I am destined to emit and the terrible gurgling cough, uttered by the beheaded tyro. But all of this is not the point, and my discourse on dreams and waking are also not the point... Wait! There, I feel once again that I shall really express myself, shall bring the words to bay. Alas, no one taught me the kind of chase, and the ancient inborn art of writing is long since forgotten -- forgotten are those days when it needed no schooling, but ignited and blazed like a forest fire -- today it seems just as incredible as the music that once used to be extracted from a monstrous pianoforte, music that would nimbly ripple or suddenly hack the world into great, gleaming blocks -- I myself picture all this so clearly, but you are not I, and therein lies the irreparable calamity.
Not knowing how to write, but sensing with my criminal intuition how words are combined, what one must do for a commonplace word to come alive and to share its neighbor's sheen, heat, shadow, while reflecting itself in its neighbor and renewing the neighboring word in the process, so that the whole line is live iridescence; while I sense the nature of this kind of word propinquity, I am nevertheless unable to achieve it, yet that is what is indispensable to me for my task, a task of not now and not here. Not here! The horrible "here," the dark dungeon, in which a relentlessly howling heart is incarcerated, this "here" holds and constricts me. But what gleams shine through at night, and what--.
It exists, my dream world, it must exist, since, surely there must be an original of the clumsy copy. Dreamy, round, and blue, it turns slowly toward me. It is as if you are lying supine, with eyes closed, on an overcast day, and suddenly the gloom stirs under your eyelids, and slowly becomes a languorous smile, then a warm feeling of contentment, and you know that the sun has come out from behind the clouds. With just such a feeling my world begins: the misty air gradually clears, and it is suffused with such radiant, tremulous kindness, and my soul expanses so freely in its native realm. -- But then what, then what? Yes, that is the line beyond which I lose control... Brought up into the air, the word bursts, as burst those spherical fishes that breathe and blaze only in the compressed murk of the depths when brought up in the net. However I am making one last effort -- and I think I have caught my prey... but it is only a fleeting apparition of my prey!
There, tam, lá-bas, the gaze of men glows with inimitable understanding; there the freaks that are tortured here walk unmolested; there time takes shape according to one's pleasure, like a figured rug whose folds can be gathered in such a way that two designs will meet -- and the rug is once again smoothed out, and you live on, or else superimpose the next image on the last, endlessly, endlessly, with the leisurely concentration of a woman selecting a belt to go with her dress -- now she glides in my direction, rhythmically butting the velvet with her knees, comprehending everything and comprehensible to me... There, there are the originals of those gardens where we used to roam and hide in this world; there everything strikes one by its bewitching evidence, by the simplicity of perfect good; there everything pleases one's soul, everything is filled with the kind of fun that children know; there shines the mirror that now and then sends a chance reflection here...
And what I say is not it, not quite it, and I am getting mixed up, getting nowhere, talking nonsense, and the more I move about and search in the water where I grope on the sandy bottom for a glimmer I have glimpsed, the muddier the water grows, and the less likely it becomes that I shall grasp it. No, I have as yet said nothing, or, rather, said only bookish words... and in the end the logical thing would be to give up and I would give up if I were laboring for a reader existing today, but as there is in the world not a single human being who can speak my language; or, more simply, not a single human being who can speak; or, even more simply, not a single human; I must think only of myself, of that force which urges me to express myself. I am cold, weakened, afraid, the back of my head blinks and cringes, and once again gazes with insane intensity, but, in spite of everything, I am chained to this table like a cup to a drinking fountain, and will not rise till I have said what I want. I repeat, I repeat: There is something I know, there is something I know, there is something...
I was going to read this to you. You're not here to hear it anymore, so I'll just leave it here so I don't forget.
---
I know something, yes...but even now, when it is all over anyway, even now -- I am afraid that I may corrupt someone? Or will nothing come of what I am trying to tell, its only vestiges being the corpses of strangled words, like hanged men...evening silhouettes of gammas and gerunds, gallow crows -- I think I should prefer the rope, since I know authoritatively and irrevocably that it shall be the ax; a little time gained, time, which is now so precious to me that I value every respite, every postponement... I mean time allotted to thinking; the furlough I allow my thoughts for a free journey from fact to fantasy and return... I mean much more besides, but lack of writing skill, haste, excitement, weakness... I know something. I know something. But expression of it comes so hard! No, I cannot... I would like to give up -- yet I have the feeling of boiling and rising, a tickling, which may drive you mad if you do not express it somehow. Oh no, I do not gloat over my own person, I do not get all hot wrestling with my soul in a darkened room; I have no desires, save the desire to express myself -- in defiance of all the world's muteness.
How frightened I am. How sick with fright. But no one shall take me away from myself. I am frightened -- and now I am losing some thread, which I held so palpably only a moment ago. Where is it? It has slipped out of my grasp! I am trembling over the paper, chewing the pencil through to the lead, hunching over to conceal myself from the door through which a piercing eye stings me in the nape, and it seems I am right on the verge of crumpling everything and tearing it up. I am here through an error -- not in this prison, specifically -- but in this whole terrible, striped world; a world which seems not a bad example of amateur craftsmanship, but is in reality calamity, horror, madness, error -- and look, the curio slays the tourist, the gigantic carved bear brings its wooden mallet down upon me.
And yet, ever since early childhood, I have had dreams... In my dreams the world was ennobled, spiritualized; people whom in the waking state I feared so much appeared there in a shimmering refraction, just as if they were imbued with and enveloped by that vibration of light which in sultry weather inspires the very outlines of objects with life; their voices, their step, the expressions of their eyes and even of their clothes -- acquired an exciting significance; to put it more simply, in my dreams the world would come alive, becoming so captivatingly majestic, free and ethereal, that afterwards it would be oppressive to breathe the dust of this painted life.
But then I have long since grown accustomed to the promise of reality, a foreglimpse and a whiff of it; that is, they contain, in a very vague, diluted state, more genuine reality than our vaunted waking life which, in its turn, is semi-sleep, an evil drowsiness into which penetrate in grotesque disguise the sounds and sights of the real world, flowing beyond the periphery of the mind -- as when you hear during sleep a dreadful insidious tale because a branch is scraping on the pane, or see yourself sinking into snow because your blanket is sliding off. But how I fear awakening! How I fear that second, or rather split second, already cut short then, when, with a lumberjack's grunt -- But what is there to fear? Will it not be for me simply the shadow of an ax, and shall I not hear the downward vigorous grunt with the ear of a different world?
Still I am afraid! One cannot write it off so easily. Neither is it good that my thoughts keep getting sucked into the cavity of the future -- I want to think about something else, clarify other things... but I write obscurely and limply, like Pushkin's lyrical duelist. Soon, I think, I shall evolve a third eye on the back of my neck, between my brittle vertebrae: a mad eye, wide open, with a dilating pupil and pink venation on the glossy ball. Keep away! Even stronger, more hoarsely: hands off! I can foresee it all! And how often do my ears ring with the sob I am destined to emit and the terrible gurgling cough, uttered by the beheaded tyro. But all of this is not the point, and my discourse on dreams and waking are also not the point... Wait! There, I feel once again that I shall really express myself, shall bring the words to bay. Alas, no one taught me the kind of chase, and the ancient inborn art of writing is long since forgotten -- forgotten are those days when it needed no schooling, but ignited and blazed like a forest fire -- today it seems just as incredible as the music that once used to be extracted from a monstrous pianoforte, music that would nimbly ripple or suddenly hack the world into great, gleaming blocks -- I myself picture all this so clearly, but you are not I, and therein lies the irreparable calamity.
Not knowing how to write, but sensing with my criminal intuition how words are combined, what one must do for a commonplace word to come alive and to share its neighbor's sheen, heat, shadow, while reflecting itself in its neighbor and renewing the neighboring word in the process, so that the whole line is live iridescence; while I sense the nature of this kind of word propinquity, I am nevertheless unable to achieve it, yet that is what is indispensable to me for my task, a task of not now and not here. Not here! The horrible "here," the dark dungeon, in which a relentlessly howling heart is incarcerated, this "here" holds and constricts me. But what gleams shine through at night, and what--.
It exists, my dream world, it must exist, since, surely there must be an original of the clumsy copy. Dreamy, round, and blue, it turns slowly toward me. It is as if you are lying supine, with eyes closed, on an overcast day, and suddenly the gloom stirs under your eyelids, and slowly becomes a languorous smile, then a warm feeling of contentment, and you know that the sun has come out from behind the clouds. With just such a feeling my world begins: the misty air gradually clears, and it is suffused with such radiant, tremulous kindness, and my soul expanses so freely in its native realm. -- But then what, then what? Yes, that is the line beyond which I lose control... Brought up into the air, the word bursts, as burst those spherical fishes that breathe and blaze only in the compressed murk of the depths when brought up in the net. However I am making one last effort -- and I think I have caught my prey... but it is only a fleeting apparition of my prey!
There, tam, lá-bas, the gaze of men glows with inimitable understanding; there the freaks that are tortured here walk unmolested; there time takes shape according to one's pleasure, like a figured rug whose folds can be gathered in such a way that two designs will meet -- and the rug is once again smoothed out, and you live on, or else superimpose the next image on the last, endlessly, endlessly, with the leisurely concentration of a woman selecting a belt to go with her dress -- now she glides in my direction, rhythmically butting the velvet with her knees, comprehending everything and comprehensible to me... There, there are the originals of those gardens where we used to roam and hide in this world; there everything strikes one by its bewitching evidence, by the simplicity of perfect good; there everything pleases one's soul, everything is filled with the kind of fun that children know; there shines the mirror that now and then sends a chance reflection here...
And what I say is not it, not quite it, and I am getting mixed up, getting nowhere, talking nonsense, and the more I move about and search in the water where I grope on the sandy bottom for a glimmer I have glimpsed, the muddier the water grows, and the less likely it becomes that I shall grasp it. No, I have as yet said nothing, or, rather, said only bookish words... and in the end the logical thing would be to give up and I would give up if I were laboring for a reader existing today, but as there is in the world not a single human being who can speak my language; or, more simply, not a single human being who can speak; or, even more simply, not a single human; I must think only of myself, of that force which urges me to express myself. I am cold, weakened, afraid, the back of my head blinks and cringes, and once again gazes with insane intensity, but, in spite of everything, I am chained to this table like a cup to a drinking fountain, and will not rise till I have said what I want. I repeat, I repeat: There is something I know, there is something I know, there is something...
8.02.2006
8.01.2006
No contact from him. Hahahaha. Oh God this is confusing.
"I'll call you tomorrow."
"You'll see me before I leave."
Bullshit~
Like I couldn't just see through all of that as it was happening. Whatever, guys, I have homework to turn in, a degree to finish, and a college to pick. I don't have time for this.
As much as I wish I did.
._.
"I'll call you tomorrow."
"You'll see me before I leave."
Bullshit~
Like I couldn't just see through all of that as it was happening. Whatever, guys, I have homework to turn in, a degree to finish, and a college to pick. I don't have time for this.
As much as I wish I did.
._.
7.29.2006
7.27.2006
Josiah really doesn't know much about me. I wish he would look at me like I was worth looking at. I wish he wouldn't just treat me cutely, like some sort of half-finished project that's not structurally sound. I wish he would look at my curves and give any sort of response that he's alive at all in that portion of his brain concerning sex. I get... nothing I want. Nothing I want out of this.
Come into my life
Regress into a dream
We will hide
Build a new reality
Words pouring through me. An endless river. Half are mine, half belong to a collection of people. I keep thinking of things to say to him, turning this on its side, upside down, inside out, looking for something and not yet finding it. I think he and I are more alike than has been let on.
I think we're both stuck in a black hole.
Draw another picture
Of the life you could have had
Follow your instincts
And choose the other path
I want to rush over to him right now. He's probably drunk, celebrating his victory over Nintendo, celebrating the end of the tedium. I just want to look at him. Just to touch, just one touch. A kiss. Slipping further. An embrace, the intense smell of his tanned skin. This is all lust. All just a string of words with no meaning, no reality to attach to. (Yet?) I hunger for penetration, exploring another body of flesh, an ocean of skin to glide against.
I've barely touched him yet, I have just barely scraped the surface, but I want it all. I want him to hold my hand. I want him to teach me Spanish. I want to know everything about him. Seriousness has nothing to do with this. I'm not looking for something definable. I want passion without a label. I want him to leave his mark on me.
Taught to be
How did it come to be
Tied to a railroad
You'll have to set us free
Watch our souls fade away
Let our bodies crumble away
Don't be afraid
And the confusion this has spun me into sends me headed for Keith, watching from the sidelines, but I'd be lying right now if I said I didn't want to march right into his room, take my clothes off and ask him to tell me I'm worth something. I would cry softly and ask if I'm worth a struggle against logic and sanity. Worth bedding, even. That I might have an answer from Buddy through Keith, vicariously somehow, as he fucks me, temporarily soothing this craving I've had for a week now.
That I might myself have some sort of vindication.
And I've had recurring nightmares
That I was loved for who I am
Come into my life
Regress into a dream
We will hide
Build a new reality
Words pouring through me. An endless river. Half are mine, half belong to a collection of people. I keep thinking of things to say to him, turning this on its side, upside down, inside out, looking for something and not yet finding it. I think he and I are more alike than has been let on.
I think we're both stuck in a black hole.
Draw another picture
Of the life you could have had
Follow your instincts
And choose the other path
I want to rush over to him right now. He's probably drunk, celebrating his victory over Nintendo, celebrating the end of the tedium. I just want to look at him. Just to touch, just one touch. A kiss. Slipping further. An embrace, the intense smell of his tanned skin. This is all lust. All just a string of words with no meaning, no reality to attach to. (Yet?) I hunger for penetration, exploring another body of flesh, an ocean of skin to glide against.
I've barely touched him yet, I have just barely scraped the surface, but I want it all. I want him to hold my hand. I want him to teach me Spanish. I want to know everything about him. Seriousness has nothing to do with this. I'm not looking for something definable. I want passion without a label. I want him to leave his mark on me.
Taught to be
How did it come to be
Tied to a railroad
You'll have to set us free
Watch our souls fade away
Let our bodies crumble away
Don't be afraid
And the confusion this has spun me into sends me headed for Keith, watching from the sidelines, but I'd be lying right now if I said I didn't want to march right into his room, take my clothes off and ask him to tell me I'm worth something. I would cry softly and ask if I'm worth a struggle against logic and sanity. Worth bedding, even. That I might have an answer from Buddy through Keith, vicariously somehow, as he fucks me, temporarily soothing this craving I've had for a week now.
That I might myself have some sort of vindication.
And I've had recurring nightmares
That I was loved for who I am
7.25.2006
Oh God. Oh fuck. Oh Goddamnit.
What's the word for this?
Enchanted.
I met someone at work I have a serious craving for. He scratches an itch I didn't know I had. I find myself inexorably attracted to him. He's doing wonders for my writing, I feel my creative side set into rapid motion, everything's passion and fire again. But it's all churning inside of me, not ripe enough to come out yet.
You set my soul alight
His eyes and the lips forming the words of that song, ripping right into me. He might have meant it, or I might just be making all of this up. But oh, if he meant even one of those subtle glances.
In time, I tell myself. In time. Wait. Patience. This will work itself out. And all I can do is watch myself fall. Hard.
I'm going to cry when you leave.
(Why did I have to meet you?)
What's the word for this?
Enchanted.
I met someone at work I have a serious craving for. He scratches an itch I didn't know I had. I find myself inexorably attracted to him. He's doing wonders for my writing, I feel my creative side set into rapid motion, everything's passion and fire again. But it's all churning inside of me, not ripe enough to come out yet.
You set my soul alight
His eyes and the lips forming the words of that song, ripping right into me. He might have meant it, or I might just be making all of this up. But oh, if he meant even one of those subtle glances.
In time, I tell myself. In time. Wait. Patience. This will work itself out. And all I can do is watch myself fall. Hard.
I'm going to cry when you leave.
(Why did I have to meet you?)
7.09.2006
Hahaha, a real gem from one of my classes.
"Marx was a man symbolized the lack of religion and the effortness of putting workers into hard labor without remorse."
This sentence showed up in the discussion board of my astronomy class. The topic was "What is a theory? Does science try to prove anything?"
I went digging around more and found the topic he'd started under the heading, that is, his submission of work on the topic. There, I found this sentence. (Verbatim, of course.)
"When Galilao discovered Mars through a telescope he invented, he was arrested by the Italian government for false information."
Holy shit. How does this person get dressed and fed? I can't even... I just... BOGGLE at shit like this. We just got done reading a section in our text about Galileo and why he was put on trial! We even had an essay to write about it! Jesus.
Somehow he managed to form some coherent sentences for his intro post on the board:
"Hello all, my name is John **** and I am a senior at the University of La Verne here in La Verne California. My major is political science and I will be graduating in the fall. I don't know too much about math, but I hope that the class can help me along with the instructor. I am taking this class for the credit I need to fullfill my GE requirements and graduate on time."
I would not want this man running any portion of any government system in any country on this planet.
"Marx was a man symbolized the lack of religion and the effortness of putting workers into hard labor without remorse."
This sentence showed up in the discussion board of my astronomy class. The topic was "What is a theory? Does science try to prove anything?"
I went digging around more and found the topic he'd started under the heading, that is, his submission of work on the topic. There, I found this sentence. (Verbatim, of course.)
"When Galilao discovered Mars through a telescope he invented, he was arrested by the Italian government for false information."
Holy shit. How does this person get dressed and fed? I can't even... I just... BOGGLE at shit like this. We just got done reading a section in our text about Galileo and why he was put on trial! We even had an essay to write about it! Jesus.
Somehow he managed to form some coherent sentences for his intro post on the board:
"Hello all, my name is John **** and I am a senior at the University of La Verne here in La Verne California. My major is political science and I will be graduating in the fall. I don't know too much about math, but I hope that the class can help me along with the instructor. I am taking this class for the credit I need to fullfill my GE requirements and graduate on time."
I would not want this man running any portion of any government system in any country on this planet.
7.05.2006
7.01.2006
I remember when
I remember
Wide open, two to each net, pop pop pop. So lovely the hard painted ground with lines arbitrary, not enough to hold me in. It's hard running in pants that don't fit you, and I was wearing too much anyway. Got hot right away, got miserable looking at the hacked edges of the shadow my head was casting. Got self-conscious. Got teary-eyed looking at the mangled bits of hair in my face.
Pop, across the net. Pop, across the net. On the line. Aimed at my knees. Over my head. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss.
Oof.
I needed the practice, ugh, hadn't been out for however long, too long. Got concerned with my handling of the ball, then irked, then frustrated, then angry, then furious on fire livid at myself and the lack of control I was exhibiting.
I threw my racket.
I don't throw things, and I threw my racket.
Yeah.
It felt good.
The only part I regret is where I threw it at an angle that warped the entire rim. :| Gonna have to replace it, shouldn't be a big deal. Twenty dollar titanium racket hoooooo.
I had some amazing hits today, good aim when I wasn't too furious to concentrate, and most importantly strength. My arm has strengthened and stretched out and my control builds with each session.
I am going to throw myself at the ball. I am going to be fucking stellar.
Going back out again tomorrow for however long I can stand the heat. Who's coming with me?
I remember
Wide open, two to each net, pop pop pop. So lovely the hard painted ground with lines arbitrary, not enough to hold me in. It's hard running in pants that don't fit you, and I was wearing too much anyway. Got hot right away, got miserable looking at the hacked edges of the shadow my head was casting. Got self-conscious. Got teary-eyed looking at the mangled bits of hair in my face.
Pop, across the net. Pop, across the net. On the line. Aimed at my knees. Over my head. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss.
Oof.
I needed the practice, ugh, hadn't been out for however long, too long. Got concerned with my handling of the ball, then irked, then frustrated, then angry, then furious on fire livid at myself and the lack of control I was exhibiting.
I threw my racket.
I don't throw things, and I threw my racket.
Yeah.
It felt good.
The only part I regret is where I threw it at an angle that warped the entire rim. :| Gonna have to replace it, shouldn't be a big deal. Twenty dollar titanium racket hoooooo.
I had some amazing hits today, good aim when I wasn't too furious to concentrate, and most importantly strength. My arm has strengthened and stretched out and my control builds with each session.
I am going to throw myself at the ball. I am going to be fucking stellar.
Going back out again tomorrow for however long I can stand the heat. Who's coming with me?
6.30.2006
Do you want to know my name?
Hot days, hot naked back facing me, push my lips against it, suck the scent of his skin in through my nose and out through my mouth, hot breath on his hot back.
I don't ask him for any pleasure, even though the drive pushes through me, faint but steady, like the pulse inside my limbs. My hair looks like I asked someone mowing their lawn to give my head a once-over. I fear it turns him away from thoughts like my own, so I restrain myself till such a time that I don't look like a mistake. But his sex hangs in front of me, low sometimes, low enough to touch my lips to, and I catch that organic, deep, HIM smell. It's all him. My jaw clenches, knowing I can't taste, nor touch.
He plays those games and all I can do is stare at his legs tangled together, the curve of the back of his head meeting his neck, creeping down his spine to that perfect point of lust neatly hidden from my prying eyes.
Hungry. Moments like these come often. I take great pride in catching him interacting with others and never detecting me watching and recording in my memory of memories the slight shuffle of his feet, the way the bag hangs on his shoulder as I wish I could hang. To kiss between those shoulder blades and touch the soft cilia hairs on his lower back. That's all I ask for now.
You are the dream I never should have caught
Summer's playing on my fingers like whimsical dust motes, like spikes of grass blades, the soft citrus green of fresh leaves. Dancing around in my own head, swaying back and forth in the heat, dragging my head up to note the unearthly blue sky that's notorious for coaxing me to stare till my eyes bleed tears and sting.
Syllables of a language I understand and do not understand. Streams of sounds, long thick lines of them, bold moves of the tongue to replicate. A deliberate pace, not the hyperactivity of Spring, nor the sharper, more contrasted bite of Autumn, but an intentional beating of languid words.
The pop of a tennis racket, water splattering down my chin, hoping somewhere somehow there is still something inside me, some graceful movement or childishly adorable expression upon my face. A tongue sticking out, the small blonde hairs on the back of my wet neck, maybe the hop of my power hit that almost never goes where I want it to. A grunt of exertion firing the ball to the backmost edges of the court, a shout of triumph over the miscommunication between nerves and arms. There has to be something in me I can still enchant him with, but this is just the fear talking. Afraid of him falling out of fascination, but I'm sure that happened a while ago. Nymphet no more, perhaps vestigial reminders in the raising of my left eyebrow or the way my hair is sometimes in my eyes.
Less spark, mostly smoldering now. Let it burn so bright, blow on it, huffing till you can't breathe. I am catching the Juliet vibe again, vibrating with every glance, buzzing like a delirious bee when my arm brushes against his. The crack of lightning, a magnet in the center of me pulling me inexorably to him. Feels so good to feel like I could. Just. Devour him.
And I'll come running just to do it again
A text file from him, February 19th, signed Forever Yours. Glimmer of hope.
Irony of ironies, Ride was completed around the time we first came together. We're going for a Ride, my Gloves.
God, how I wish he felt what I did when I look at him.
Hot days, hot naked back facing me, push my lips against it, suck the scent of his skin in through my nose and out through my mouth, hot breath on his hot back.
I don't ask him for any pleasure, even though the drive pushes through me, faint but steady, like the pulse inside my limbs. My hair looks like I asked someone mowing their lawn to give my head a once-over. I fear it turns him away from thoughts like my own, so I restrain myself till such a time that I don't look like a mistake. But his sex hangs in front of me, low sometimes, low enough to touch my lips to, and I catch that organic, deep, HIM smell. It's all him. My jaw clenches, knowing I can't taste, nor touch.
He plays those games and all I can do is stare at his legs tangled together, the curve of the back of his head meeting his neck, creeping down his spine to that perfect point of lust neatly hidden from my prying eyes.
Hungry. Moments like these come often. I take great pride in catching him interacting with others and never detecting me watching and recording in my memory of memories the slight shuffle of his feet, the way the bag hangs on his shoulder as I wish I could hang. To kiss between those shoulder blades and touch the soft cilia hairs on his lower back. That's all I ask for now.
You are the dream I never should have caught
Summer's playing on my fingers like whimsical dust motes, like spikes of grass blades, the soft citrus green of fresh leaves. Dancing around in my own head, swaying back and forth in the heat, dragging my head up to note the unearthly blue sky that's notorious for coaxing me to stare till my eyes bleed tears and sting.
Syllables of a language I understand and do not understand. Streams of sounds, long thick lines of them, bold moves of the tongue to replicate. A deliberate pace, not the hyperactivity of Spring, nor the sharper, more contrasted bite of Autumn, but an intentional beating of languid words.
The pop of a tennis racket, water splattering down my chin, hoping somewhere somehow there is still something inside me, some graceful movement or childishly adorable expression upon my face. A tongue sticking out, the small blonde hairs on the back of my wet neck, maybe the hop of my power hit that almost never goes where I want it to. A grunt of exertion firing the ball to the backmost edges of the court, a shout of triumph over the miscommunication between nerves and arms. There has to be something in me I can still enchant him with, but this is just the fear talking. Afraid of him falling out of fascination, but I'm sure that happened a while ago. Nymphet no more, perhaps vestigial reminders in the raising of my left eyebrow or the way my hair is sometimes in my eyes.
Less spark, mostly smoldering now. Let it burn so bright, blow on it, huffing till you can't breathe. I am catching the Juliet vibe again, vibrating with every glance, buzzing like a delirious bee when my arm brushes against his. The crack of lightning, a magnet in the center of me pulling me inexorably to him. Feels so good to feel like I could. Just. Devour him.
And I'll come running just to do it again
A text file from him, February 19th, signed Forever Yours. Glimmer of hope.
Irony of ironies, Ride was completed around the time we first came together. We're going for a Ride, my Gloves.
God, how I wish he felt what I did when I look at him.
6.20.2006
Self-doubt is an awesome motivator.
Why did I think Doll Freak was a good name for this story? It's like one of those moments where, afterward, you thank the ground you're standing on that you weren't in a tattoo shop or jewelry store. The damage could have been so much worse.
I'm glad I internalized most of all of that, and spared most of my friends as well. I thought things had changed. Alas.
As a self-tailored test of how much I've changed, I'm going to fill this out again with how my situation is now compared to what it was then in regard to whatever the particular sentence involves.
Still not enough money to pay off hosting. I'd apologize, but I seriously didn't care that this wasn't up anymore.
100 things about me:
1) my pockets are my backpack now, and i hate the way things fit inside them and make my hips look wider than they are.
2) i want to go everywhere. everywhere.
3) i read what are, in my opinion, the greats of the written word, so that i might emulate them even the tiniest bit in everything that i create.
4) i listen to pretty much whatever, and have forgone listening to music nearly as much as i used to (though a little shimmer of the old obsessions perked up in trip-hop).
5) i am the retired cheshire cat to a now small, dull, boring alice.
6) i still fucking hate 80's music.
7) i wish i had the energy to look for new music to listen to.
8) i need new clothes.
9) i need to live in a new town.
10) it's to jimmy eat world and those nights in my car.
11) i used to wear vans. now i wear whatever's cheapest. (usually chucks.)
12) i haven't owned a working CD player since i was 16.
13) i used to stay home when i knew i needed a break. now i just go anyway.
14) i've never taken standardized testing seriously.
15) i'm done exploring relationship possibilities with anyone else outside the context of vague friendship.
16) i'm very picky about the pens i choose to write with.
17) i've lived in more than 10 places and never exactly where i wanted to be in the first place.
18) my first friend was aja williams.
19) i bit my brother the first time i ever met him.
20) the mere mention of rings is a reminder that i am not human and destined to exist outside the laws of normal human behavior and interaction.
21) i danced a mixture of ballet, tap, and jazz for eight years, and was consequently outcasted for being younger than everyone else.
22) i no longer want to dance at huge parties and let the music seep into my every cell because i'm more concerned with how i look now.
23) i'm back to not enjoying being touched anymore.
24) i will mourn the inability to dye my hair once i'm out of college.
25) i used to climb trees spontaneously.
26) i really seriously care what i look like now and make efforts to produce an image that represents me.
27) sometimes i don't have enough money to eat.
28) i can keep secrets. when i know they're supposed to be secrets.
29) i'm not so honest or forthcoming anymore because it hurts me too much to hear the responses to my own honesty.
30) half the time i end up growing to like those songs i have shaky opinions on at first.
31) my grade in any class depends heavily upon my motivation to get to japan.
32) i'm rarely sick, and i never mention it unless it gets to the point where i can barely function.
33) i hate having my period and take risk with my already flimsy chance of fertility by skipping my birth control placebos.
34) i treat my pets better because i'll be leaving them behind soon and i'm consciously aware of it every time i'm around them.
35) the worst day of my life can no longer be accurately documented because pretty much November 2005 to this present day have been the worst consecutive days of my life. and i seriously doubt anything short of josiah dying will beat them.
36) i bought britney spears' first cd.
37) i do crazy things for love.
38) my walls are not white and i enjoy them much more because of it.
39) i've given myself the majority of scars i have.
40) i hate taking showers unless i'm cooling off on a hot day or after getting some exercise.
41) i love wearing the right kinds of clothes and find cotton very comfortable.
42) i try to eat as healthy as possible.
43) deep down, i know i can write well.
44) i think real moans from guys are sexy and they turn me on a lot.
45) topping and bottoming are a distant whimsy to electric, passionate, combative love.
46) i arrogantly tell people i'm better than i know i am.
47) i have an online journal a handful of you know about.
48) i beta tested redmoon. it sucked.
49) a fourth of my day is spent thinking up things i can write about. a third of it is spent wishing i had some fitting music to listen to.
50) my comfort food is a huge plate of pasta with olive oil and parmesan cheese.
51) the one thing i hate more than anything else is knowing that i'm not what he wants anymore and knowing that he would change me back to who he thought i used to be in a heartbeat.
52) my first fourth grade teacher told me i'd either be a best-selling author or a brain surgeon.
53) i'm so fucking tired of listening to people talk.
54) i'm either going to have kids by the time i'm 26 or not have kids at all.
55) i love horror movies, but only when i'm steeled against any kind of being frightened over them.
56) i don't remember meeting anyone that wasn't white till fifth grade.
57) i'm scared that i'm going to leave my cats with someone who will give them away while i'm in japan.
58) i got a hundred or so pages into war and peace before i stopped. it was good, but i was reading it in a race against another person, and that is not a book that should be involved in a race of any kind.
59) i think descartes made the same assumption we all do in order to move on with his theory on god.
60) i hate the smell of new cars with a passion. it makes me nauseous.
61) i lost my first and last state spelling bee competition in third grade because the girl i was paired up with misspelled afternoon.
62) i played the flute in fifth grade and half of sixth. i dropped out of band because it was too easy and i really wanted to play the steel drums instead.
63) i try to be non-intrusive and inconspicuous whenever possible.
64) the last time i set foot in a library was over a year ago.
65) my sneezes sound like coughs. sometimes people ask me if it was a cough or a sneeze and i get embarrassed because i never learned how to sneeze properly.
66) i hate overly dramatic everything.
67) i also hate flagrant optimists and how their every decision is influenced by it.
68) i manage to scare bland people, i suppose. don't really scare anyone anymore.
69) every therapist to date has suggested i'm anything from chronically depressed to schizophrenic and hyperparanoid.
70) i answer the phone most times now and have little problem talking on it.
71) i used to steal small things from people's houses that i'll never visit again.
72) i do not have a tv in my room and haven't since i moved out.
73) i love it when josiah plays with my hair once a year and cherish the moment more than i should.
74) i have screens on my windows. i now feel a sense of appretiation for them after going without for 9 months.
75) this one used to contain a disgusting word that i don't even care to know the real definition for anymore.
76) i have a favorite direction: left. and it's still left. though i'm leaning back towards right again.
77) i've panned garnet out of a river. i even kept some, but i don't know where it is.
78) i was on the student council in second grade and fifth grade. fat lot of good that did me. all i got out of it was a big head and a distaste for political arguments.
79) in all reality, i have no control over my relationship, and attempt to act like someone he would enjoy, then recoil at my horrific mistakes and work for months trying to reverse them.
80) i can read palms and tarot cards to an extent. i don't anymore because i never decided whether we actually have a hand in how the cards turn.
81) i used to want to be cher from clueless. now i just wish i knew how to walk in high heels or owned a dress i liked and that fit me.
82) the only thing that i've owned my entire life is my blankie, and myself, for what i'm worth.
83) i got a kill count of over 10000 on multiplayer perfect dark over the course of one summer.
84) i've been skinnydipping in a glacier lake in the mountains, and in a hot tub in the middle of the day at an apartment complex.
85) i've always lived a couple blocks from some body of water, be it lake, river, or ocean, until i moved to seattle, ironically.
86) i never stopped playing with dolls, i guess, since i play the sims 2. it's more like i want to control something and place myself in shoes and bodies and lives of people that i just can't be. and do things that i am frightened to do.
87) my own first pet died while i was away at my father's house.
88) i got the first holes in my ears repierced on my ninth birthday, and replaced them with 6g holes with flared eyelets when i was 18.
89) i can't believe i used to watch trl on mtv. i must've been really bored in middle school.
90) i have very little in storage now and what's left of it is of the utmost importance.
91) i've never finished a game of monopoly.
92) remembering a time that i saw someone when they were still alive is yet another reminder of my own mortality and how i am wasting my god damn time not doing things that i've resigned to doing "eventually."
93) i haven't played an xbox anything. none of the games are good enough to attract my attention.
94) i love playing rummy.
95) i once developed a temporary habit of dating everyone that kelly broke up with.
96) my goal in life used to be to be happy and know the truth.
97) i don't honestly care about many people. in fact, humans are disgusting and sometimes i find myself repulsed at my own thoughts and actions and visage.
98) i used to hike the entire two mile trail at seahurst beach barefoot. sometimes with my brother, sometimes not even on the trail. i made my own path the first time and wore it into the side of the hill and the thick forest foliage every time thereafter.
99) i conducted the entire prosecution of a mock trial on my own in fourth grade because my partner never showed up. and lost by one vote.
100) i have a tendency to make fun of most everything and everyone, especially myself.
So I guess I have changed quite a bit.
Still not enough money to pay off hosting. I'd apologize, but I seriously didn't care that this wasn't up anymore. If you're reading this, well, maybe it'll encourage Josiah to place his back up too.
Why did I think Doll Freak was a good name for this story? It's like one of those moments where, afterward, you thank the ground you're standing on that you weren't in a tattoo shop or jewelry store. The damage could have been so much worse.
I'm glad I internalized most of all of that, and spared most of my friends as well. I thought things had changed. Alas.
As a self-tailored test of how much I've changed, I'm going to fill this out again with how my situation is now compared to what it was then in regard to whatever the particular sentence involves.
Still not enough money to pay off hosting. I'd apologize, but I seriously didn't care that this wasn't up anymore.
100 things about me:
1) my pockets are my backpack now, and i hate the way things fit inside them and make my hips look wider than they are.
2) i want to go everywhere. everywhere.
3) i read what are, in my opinion, the greats of the written word, so that i might emulate them even the tiniest bit in everything that i create.
4) i listen to pretty much whatever, and have forgone listening to music nearly as much as i used to (though a little shimmer of the old obsessions perked up in trip-hop).
5) i am the retired cheshire cat to a now small, dull, boring alice.
6) i still fucking hate 80's music.
7) i wish i had the energy to look for new music to listen to.
8) i need new clothes.
9) i need to live in a new town.
10) it's to jimmy eat world and those nights in my car.
11) i used to wear vans. now i wear whatever's cheapest. (usually chucks.)
12) i haven't owned a working CD player since i was 16.
13) i used to stay home when i knew i needed a break. now i just go anyway.
14) i've never taken standardized testing seriously.
15) i'm done exploring relationship possibilities with anyone else outside the context of vague friendship.
16) i'm very picky about the pens i choose to write with.
17) i've lived in more than 10 places and never exactly where i wanted to be in the first place.
18) my first friend was aja williams.
19) i bit my brother the first time i ever met him.
20) the mere mention of rings is a reminder that i am not human and destined to exist outside the laws of normal human behavior and interaction.
21) i danced a mixture of ballet, tap, and jazz for eight years, and was consequently outcasted for being younger than everyone else.
22) i no longer want to dance at huge parties and let the music seep into my every cell because i'm more concerned with how i look now.
23) i'm back to not enjoying being touched anymore.
24) i will mourn the inability to dye my hair once i'm out of college.
25) i used to climb trees spontaneously.
26) i really seriously care what i look like now and make efforts to produce an image that represents me.
27) sometimes i don't have enough money to eat.
28) i can keep secrets. when i know they're supposed to be secrets.
29) i'm not so honest or forthcoming anymore because it hurts me too much to hear the responses to my own honesty.
30) half the time i end up growing to like those songs i have shaky opinions on at first.
31) my grade in any class depends heavily upon my motivation to get to japan.
32) i'm rarely sick, and i never mention it unless it gets to the point where i can barely function.
33) i hate having my period and take risk with my already flimsy chance of fertility by skipping my birth control placebos.
34) i treat my pets better because i'll be leaving them behind soon and i'm consciously aware of it every time i'm around them.
35) the worst day of my life can no longer be accurately documented because pretty much November 2005 to this present day have been the worst consecutive days of my life. and i seriously doubt anything short of josiah dying will beat them.
36) i bought britney spears' first cd.
37) i do crazy things for love.
38) my walls are not white and i enjoy them much more because of it.
39) i've given myself the majority of scars i have.
40) i hate taking showers unless i'm cooling off on a hot day or after getting some exercise.
41) i love wearing the right kinds of clothes and find cotton very comfortable.
42) i try to eat as healthy as possible.
43) deep down, i know i can write well.
44) i think real moans from guys are sexy and they turn me on a lot.
45) topping and bottoming are a distant whimsy to electric, passionate, combative love.
46) i arrogantly tell people i'm better than i know i am.
47) i have an online journal a handful of you know about.
48) i beta tested redmoon. it sucked.
49) a fourth of my day is spent thinking up things i can write about. a third of it is spent wishing i had some fitting music to listen to.
50) my comfort food is a huge plate of pasta with olive oil and parmesan cheese.
51) the one thing i hate more than anything else is knowing that i'm not what he wants anymore and knowing that he would change me back to who he thought i used to be in a heartbeat.
52) my first fourth grade teacher told me i'd either be a best-selling author or a brain surgeon.
53) i'm so fucking tired of listening to people talk.
54) i'm either going to have kids by the time i'm 26 or not have kids at all.
55) i love horror movies, but only when i'm steeled against any kind of being frightened over them.
56) i don't remember meeting anyone that wasn't white till fifth grade.
57) i'm scared that i'm going to leave my cats with someone who will give them away while i'm in japan.
58) i got a hundred or so pages into war and peace before i stopped. it was good, but i was reading it in a race against another person, and that is not a book that should be involved in a race of any kind.
59) i think descartes made the same assumption we all do in order to move on with his theory on god.
60) i hate the smell of new cars with a passion. it makes me nauseous.
61) i lost my first and last state spelling bee competition in third grade because the girl i was paired up with misspelled afternoon.
62) i played the flute in fifth grade and half of sixth. i dropped out of band because it was too easy and i really wanted to play the steel drums instead.
63) i try to be non-intrusive and inconspicuous whenever possible.
64) the last time i set foot in a library was over a year ago.
65) my sneezes sound like coughs. sometimes people ask me if it was a cough or a sneeze and i get embarrassed because i never learned how to sneeze properly.
66) i hate overly dramatic everything.
67) i also hate flagrant optimists and how their every decision is influenced by it.
68) i manage to scare bland people, i suppose. don't really scare anyone anymore.
69) every therapist to date has suggested i'm anything from chronically depressed to schizophrenic and hyperparanoid.
70) i answer the phone most times now and have little problem talking on it.
71) i used to steal small things from people's houses that i'll never visit again.
72) i do not have a tv in my room and haven't since i moved out.
73) i love it when josiah plays with my hair once a year and cherish the moment more than i should.
74) i have screens on my windows. i now feel a sense of appretiation for them after going without for 9 months.
75) this one used to contain a disgusting word that i don't even care to know the real definition for anymore.
76) i have a favorite direction: left. and it's still left. though i'm leaning back towards right again.
77) i've panned garnet out of a river. i even kept some, but i don't know where it is.
78) i was on the student council in second grade and fifth grade. fat lot of good that did me. all i got out of it was a big head and a distaste for political arguments.
79) in all reality, i have no control over my relationship, and attempt to act like someone he would enjoy, then recoil at my horrific mistakes and work for months trying to reverse them.
80) i can read palms and tarot cards to an extent. i don't anymore because i never decided whether we actually have a hand in how the cards turn.
81) i used to want to be cher from clueless. now i just wish i knew how to walk in high heels or owned a dress i liked and that fit me.
82) the only thing that i've owned my entire life is my blankie, and myself, for what i'm worth.
83) i got a kill count of over 10000 on multiplayer perfect dark over the course of one summer.
84) i've been skinnydipping in a glacier lake in the mountains, and in a hot tub in the middle of the day at an apartment complex.
85) i've always lived a couple blocks from some body of water, be it lake, river, or ocean, until i moved to seattle, ironically.
86) i never stopped playing with dolls, i guess, since i play the sims 2. it's more like i want to control something and place myself in shoes and bodies and lives of people that i just can't be. and do things that i am frightened to do.
87) my own first pet died while i was away at my father's house.
88) i got the first holes in my ears repierced on my ninth birthday, and replaced them with 6g holes with flared eyelets when i was 18.
89) i can't believe i used to watch trl on mtv. i must've been really bored in middle school.
90) i have very little in storage now and what's left of it is of the utmost importance.
91) i've never finished a game of monopoly.
92) remembering a time that i saw someone when they were still alive is yet another reminder of my own mortality and how i am wasting my god damn time not doing things that i've resigned to doing "eventually."
93) i haven't played an xbox anything. none of the games are good enough to attract my attention.
94) i love playing rummy.
95) i once developed a temporary habit of dating everyone that kelly broke up with.
96) my goal in life used to be to be happy and know the truth.
97) i don't honestly care about many people. in fact, humans are disgusting and sometimes i find myself repulsed at my own thoughts and actions and visage.
98) i used to hike the entire two mile trail at seahurst beach barefoot. sometimes with my brother, sometimes not even on the trail. i made my own path the first time and wore it into the side of the hill and the thick forest foliage every time thereafter.
99) i conducted the entire prosecution of a mock trial on my own in fourth grade because my partner never showed up. and lost by one vote.
100) i have a tendency to make fun of most everything and everyone, especially myself.
So I guess I have changed quite a bit.
Still not enough money to pay off hosting. I'd apologize, but I seriously didn't care that this wasn't up anymore. If you're reading this, well, maybe it'll encourage Josiah to place his back up too.
5.14.2006
He's there and I'm here. I was made fun of today, I forgot how much I loathe myself and it was just a friendly reminder.
The topics I wanted to touch on are fading in and out, sometimes my list is almost complete, sometimes the paper disappears and I'm staring where it used to be like I'm still holding it.
I leave the light on for you.
Unable so lost
I can't find my way
Becca's working on advertising this week. Hopefully this week makes up for last week. I was so short. So so so so short. More than half short. I thought I told myself I would never work on commision. I'm starting to burn out. Getting a little crisp around the edges. When the money--
If the money pours in, maybe I can forgive myself for spending so much time on it. Still, they're so. Sick. Just awful sometimes, things I don't want to think about, the seedy seediness of it all is digging roots into my skin.
I can't understand myself anymore
But I'm still feeling lonely
Feeling so unholy
My lips are pulsing with pain because I keep picking at them. Been meaning to cut my nails off so I can't, but then my fingertips just find their way back up to my mouth and away we go. It's a trigger I formed some time ago whenever the stress has been swallowed instead of expelled. Pickpickpickpick. I bet kissing me is like kissing dead flowers.
I sure feel like one.
It was the height I threw
The weight
Oh, she liked my CD.
"What would you do if I had no money?"
"Starve to death, surely."
The shell was crushing you
I've been around a few
I acquiesce, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, despite their name being ugly to say, are quite. Well.
Catchy.
*lets her jaw spring open and snap shut*
The yawns are getting closer together and making my hands pull away from the keyboard.
Type quicker get it out but I'm making this up seconds before it comes out through my fingers in the keys on the board those little pathways taking my words up to the screen onto the browser text box hitting publish post and now we're on the internet again just my fingers and I
Tell me what you saw
I'll tell you what to
The topics I wanted to touch on are fading in and out, sometimes my list is almost complete, sometimes the paper disappears and I'm staring where it used to be like I'm still holding it.
I leave the light on for you.
Unable so lost
I can't find my way
Becca's working on advertising this week. Hopefully this week makes up for last week. I was so short. So so so so short. More than half short. I thought I told myself I would never work on commision. I'm starting to burn out. Getting a little crisp around the edges. When the money--
If the money pours in, maybe I can forgive myself for spending so much time on it. Still, they're so. Sick. Just awful sometimes, things I don't want to think about, the seedy seediness of it all is digging roots into my skin.
I can't understand myself anymore
But I'm still feeling lonely
Feeling so unholy
My lips are pulsing with pain because I keep picking at them. Been meaning to cut my nails off so I can't, but then my fingertips just find their way back up to my mouth and away we go. It's a trigger I formed some time ago whenever the stress has been swallowed instead of expelled. Pickpickpickpick. I bet kissing me is like kissing dead flowers.
I sure feel like one.
It was the height I threw
The weight
Oh, she liked my CD.
"What would you do if I had no money?"
"Starve to death, surely."
The shell was crushing you
I've been around a few
I acquiesce, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, despite their name being ugly to say, are quite. Well.
Catchy.
*lets her jaw spring open and snap shut*
The yawns are getting closer together and making my hands pull away from the keyboard.
Type quicker get it out but I'm making this up seconds before it comes out through my fingers in the keys on the board those little pathways taking my words up to the screen onto the browser text box hitting publish post and now we're on the internet again just my fingers and I
Tell me what you saw
I'll tell you what to
5.06.2006
5.04.2006
She had a freedom that not many people experience. Impunity. Everything she did went by without so much as a peep from her father. I didn't learn this right away.
---
"You just accept your lot in life? Tell yourself it'll be taken care of. God has a plan. Pretty fucked up plan."
"I'm not able to live like you do. You keep tearing your way into me, but that is only going to take you to him."
"And what of freedom?"
"I have none."
"You have a freedom. The freedom to love."
"Don't ask me for anything. I have nothing to give."
---
I was assigning myself to her. I just wanted to watch, but I ended up following her from the North end all the way to the Financial District. Photographs and videos couldn't capture her. She wasn't her image. She was the way her hair flew up in the wind. The lipgloss stain she left on her coffee cup. Each footstep laid on the concrete, soft as a petal.
---
55,000 words later and I am just beginning to learn who these characters are.
Hmm.
---
"You just accept your lot in life? Tell yourself it'll be taken care of. God has a plan. Pretty fucked up plan."
"I'm not able to live like you do. You keep tearing your way into me, but that is only going to take you to him."
"And what of freedom?"
"I have none."
"You have a freedom. The freedom to love."
"Don't ask me for anything. I have nothing to give."
---
I was assigning myself to her. I just wanted to watch, but I ended up following her from the North end all the way to the Financial District. Photographs and videos couldn't capture her. She wasn't her image. She was the way her hair flew up in the wind. The lipgloss stain she left on her coffee cup. Each footstep laid on the concrete, soft as a petal.
---
55,000 words later and I am just beginning to learn who these characters are.
Hmm.
Music! New music. Better music. Enjoy.
Maintenant je suis las
C'est tout ce que je ressens
Dear Emo Friends of Adrienne,
PLEASE stop IMing me when you're drunk. I seriously don't care about what you posted in your LiveJournal tonight. Why do I even know you?!
And Fucking Get a Girlfriend,
Adrienne
Ugh. Sometimes I think the boys are just as bad as the girls. Who needs friends, am I rite? :v
L'ampleur de notre guerre
Ce n'est qu'un rêve
On a tout écrasé
Ca je peux le voir égoïstement
Nous avons échoué
C'est tout ce que je ressens
Work's doing okay. Josiah's doing okay. Sure seems happy spending all this money we don't have, as usual, but hey, it's my only complaint. I can deal with the massive mismanagement of money that goes on around here. It's fucking us in the ass... But I can deal.
(Here's the part where Josiah tells me that he's been covering so much for me, the least I can do is cover for him, and God help us all if he can't eat what he wants to at all times.)
I was infinitely pissed about the food comments though. Especially when I came back to work and found out he doesn't even really eat "well" like he told me, just large quantities and kinda cheaply. Burgers, teriyaki, pizza, yeah, real healthy there. There's not an eyeroll big enough.
(Here's the part where he snarks back at me about not working out anymore and still being like ten pounds overweight.)
-_- And he wouldn't tell me what was wrong last night, and I barely saw him today. He came over and chewed on my neck and then left. Whatever.
(Here's the part where he tells me he has friends and sometimes they come over, and how he doesn't want to interrupt my working.)
This is getting tedious.
On a choisi de prendre tout ce qu'on pouvait
Ce teint d'automne a une fin amère
Des années de frustration s'allongent côte à côte
My eyes are dry, all that salt. Hah. Telling me I'm tired, they are. Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Ebichu's eating right now, I can hear her chewing. Owm owm owm, she says. Go to sleep, she says, you're interrupting me. >:[
Memory palace, here I come.
Move it like that
Maintenant je suis las
C'est tout ce que je ressens
Dear Emo Friends of Adrienne,
PLEASE stop IMing me when you're drunk. I seriously don't care about what you posted in your LiveJournal tonight. Why do I even know you?!
And Fucking Get a Girlfriend,
Adrienne
Ugh. Sometimes I think the boys are just as bad as the girls. Who needs friends, am I rite? :v
L'ampleur de notre guerre
Ce n'est qu'un rêve
On a tout écrasé
Ca je peux le voir égoïstement
Nous avons échoué
C'est tout ce que je ressens
Work's doing okay. Josiah's doing okay. Sure seems happy spending all this money we don't have, as usual, but hey, it's my only complaint. I can deal with the massive mismanagement of money that goes on around here. It's fucking us in the ass... But I can deal.
(Here's the part where Josiah tells me that he's been covering so much for me, the least I can do is cover for him, and God help us all if he can't eat what he wants to at all times.)
I was infinitely pissed about the food comments though. Especially when I came back to work and found out he doesn't even really eat "well" like he told me, just large quantities and kinda cheaply. Burgers, teriyaki, pizza, yeah, real healthy there. There's not an eyeroll big enough.
(Here's the part where he snarks back at me about not working out anymore and still being like ten pounds overweight.)
-_- And he wouldn't tell me what was wrong last night, and I barely saw him today. He came over and chewed on my neck and then left. Whatever.
(Here's the part where he tells me he has friends and sometimes they come over, and how he doesn't want to interrupt my working.)
This is getting tedious.
On a choisi de prendre tout ce qu'on pouvait
Ce teint d'automne a une fin amère
Des années de frustration s'allongent côte à côte
My eyes are dry, all that salt. Hah. Telling me I'm tired, they are. Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Ebichu's eating right now, I can hear her chewing. Owm owm owm, she says. Go to sleep, she says, you're interrupting me. >:[
Memory palace, here I come.
Move it like that
4.19.2006
OH, YOU.
I swell when I think of you.
All or nothing.
Mine.
I wish I could draw better, I have this image of you in my head, all sleepy with messy hair and wearing one of your white t-shirts with the Calvin Klein boxers that just barely contain your... mmmmmm.
I'm going to go lay next to you and listen to you sleep while I work on my memory palace.
I swell when I think of you.
All or nothing.
Mine.
I wish I could draw better, I have this image of you in my head, all sleepy with messy hair and wearing one of your white t-shirts with the Calvin Klein boxers that just barely contain your... mmmmmm.
I'm going to go lay next to you and listen to you sleep while I work on my memory palace.
4.16.2006
4.03.2006
I just lost my main Japanese question answerer. "I was willing to help you until I found out you're doing this for money." After I explained that it's what will be keeping me motivated to continue learning outside of class, and help fund my eventual translation career.
Great. Just great. I'm so embarrassed.
;_;
Great. Just great. I'm so embarrassed.
;_;
4.01.2006
I don't normally do this, but there's not a better way to sum up the conversation than to give you a shortened version.
Stranger: have you ever proactively involved yourself with a married person? and that married person's significant half didn't know about it.
Me: nope, she knew. they were in an open relationship.
Stranger: haha, I myself have not, and am on the verge of doing so this week. Im curious as to what other people have done in similar situations
Me: why would you do so? if you knew, why would you do it?
Stranger: Its more like "helping a friend out" - she's leaving her husband as it is already, but she's not positively sure she wont just mope back to him. I am to make sure that isn't a possibility. It'll probably ruin my association with her as is, but I've always wanted to involve myself in a form of adultry or another.
Me: ...HOW old are you again?
Stranger: lolol I certainly come off like I have an air around me, or that I think highly of myself. I assure you I don't. and I'm a measly 25 years of age.
Me: you sound like you're my age. and in my opinion, no, you don't.
Stranger: eh, its worse if you're actually talking to me. I come off as a full-of-himself jackass most of the time. I've given up trying to fix that flaw. And to counter it, mostly I just associate with full-of-themselves jackasses. So I fit in, heheh.
Me: uh. i'm going to go do my laundry now.
Josiah was right again. Lolol indeed.
Nothing more to do with you. Sorry. Goodbye.
Stranger: have you ever proactively involved yourself with a married person? and that married person's significant half didn't know about it.
Me: nope, she knew. they were in an open relationship.
Stranger: haha, I myself have not, and am on the verge of doing so this week. Im curious as to what other people have done in similar situations
Me: why would you do so? if you knew, why would you do it?
Stranger: Its more like "helping a friend out" - she's leaving her husband as it is already, but she's not positively sure she wont just mope back to him. I am to make sure that isn't a possibility. It'll probably ruin my association with her as is, but I've always wanted to involve myself in a form of adultry or another.
Me: ...HOW old are you again?
Stranger: lolol I certainly come off like I have an air around me, or that I think highly of myself. I assure you I don't. and I'm a measly 25 years of age.
Me: you sound like you're my age. and in my opinion, no, you don't.
Stranger: eh, its worse if you're actually talking to me. I come off as a full-of-himself jackass most of the time. I've given up trying to fix that flaw. And to counter it, mostly I just associate with full-of-themselves jackasses. So I fit in, heheh.
Me: uh. i'm going to go do my laundry now.
Josiah was right again. Lolol indeed.
Nothing more to do with you. Sorry. Goodbye.
Laying in bed next to him while he's pressing his cute face into his pillow and sleep sleep sleeping is so awesome. <3 Even if it does get a little toasty, you furnace. ;o
A lot of the things that I've become aware of haven't surfaced here. I've internalized a lot, I guess something that I did way back in high school when I used to post unedited AIM conversations to represent the weird relationships that I was building, instead of whatever was on my mind. I still boggle at how Descartes could think that Cogito ergo sum = God exists, but I'll go back to that some other day, when I have the money for a book on him.
Juxtaposing Japanese and English, I'm slowly realizing that they're both complicated in two entirely different ways, and I'm not just talking about the acute differences between pictograph and... letter languages (what are these called?). The grammar, the word structure, the tones, everything is so vastly polar opposite, it's like being in another universe full of crazy compound words and the word no doesn't exist. Their way of talking is so... foreign. Alien. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe it. I wish I could pass this onto Josiah so someone else knew what I was talking about.
Angel's middle aged now and I become increasingly frightened of her dying as each day passes by. Our relationship hasn't changed much. I find her watching over me sometimes. Josiah's going to have a wreck on his hands when that day comes.
Looking back on Hobbes' death, coinsiding with that huge mess of Josiah leaving and lying through his teeth to get as far away as possible, I wonder why I picked three days to mourn everything. I was almost ready to come out of my room on the second day, but it didn't feel right. I guess that I would pick three days again, and again after that, there's something about it, just sits right with me. Like a rhythm.
As I've watched our relationship over the years, there's definitely this attractive "he's watching me grow up and learn about the world" sort of thing that grew as an aside to our age difference. I find it intensely attractive.
I want to get back to working on my novels. It's been five months now since the last one wrapped up (mostly), I guess I'm just dreading the massive amount of editing that comes with this. Not to mention the fact that what I really need to do is print it out and edit it by hand, but that's a lot of fucking paper. :\ Money's coming first in all aspects, I guess. Get the money first, then spend it on whatever you want. I wish this job would hurry along, they still haven't validated my profile. Aghghhgghhh. Nervous. :(
I heard in passing from someone that love is a choice, we choose the people we attach to and fight fiercly to be with them. I chose him, and though the reasons were different then than they are now, I choose him now, and I choose to stay. Things are so good, even when the money dries up and we're eating pasta or rice seven nights a week.
Changing my workout program, since I hit a sort of plateau. I just jumped on the bike first and went for about 4.5 miles before I started on the treadmill. Since it's getting nicer outside, I should find some trails around here to walk on. Maybe Josiah and I can go together sometime. I seriously can't wait to get/make a little priestess outfit and let him have at me. X3 Oh God, so hawt.
...How long is he going to sleep for? :\
A lot of the things that I've become aware of haven't surfaced here. I've internalized a lot, I guess something that I did way back in high school when I used to post unedited AIM conversations to represent the weird relationships that I was building, instead of whatever was on my mind. I still boggle at how Descartes could think that Cogito ergo sum = God exists, but I'll go back to that some other day, when I have the money for a book on him.
Juxtaposing Japanese and English, I'm slowly realizing that they're both complicated in two entirely different ways, and I'm not just talking about the acute differences between pictograph and... letter languages (what are these called?). The grammar, the word structure, the tones, everything is so vastly polar opposite, it's like being in another universe full of crazy compound words and the word no doesn't exist. Their way of talking is so... foreign. Alien. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe it. I wish I could pass this onto Josiah so someone else knew what I was talking about.
Angel's middle aged now and I become increasingly frightened of her dying as each day passes by. Our relationship hasn't changed much. I find her watching over me sometimes. Josiah's going to have a wreck on his hands when that day comes.
Looking back on Hobbes' death, coinsiding with that huge mess of Josiah leaving and lying through his teeth to get as far away as possible, I wonder why I picked three days to mourn everything. I was almost ready to come out of my room on the second day, but it didn't feel right. I guess that I would pick three days again, and again after that, there's something about it, just sits right with me. Like a rhythm.
As I've watched our relationship over the years, there's definitely this attractive "he's watching me grow up and learn about the world" sort of thing that grew as an aside to our age difference. I find it intensely attractive.
I want to get back to working on my novels. It's been five months now since the last one wrapped up (mostly), I guess I'm just dreading the massive amount of editing that comes with this. Not to mention the fact that what I really need to do is print it out and edit it by hand, but that's a lot of fucking paper. :\ Money's coming first in all aspects, I guess. Get the money first, then spend it on whatever you want. I wish this job would hurry along, they still haven't validated my profile. Aghghhgghhh. Nervous. :(
I heard in passing from someone that love is a choice, we choose the people we attach to and fight fiercly to be with them. I chose him, and though the reasons were different then than they are now, I choose him now, and I choose to stay. Things are so good, even when the money dries up and we're eating pasta or rice seven nights a week.
Changing my workout program, since I hit a sort of plateau. I just jumped on the bike first and went for about 4.5 miles before I started on the treadmill. Since it's getting nicer outside, I should find some trails around here to walk on. Maybe Josiah and I can go together sometime. I seriously can't wait to get/make a little priestess outfit and let him have at me. X3 Oh God, so hawt.
...How long is he going to sleep for? :\
3.29.2006
Someone brought this up on Second Life and I'm pissed off enough to go over it here. She was roleplaying a courtesan because, as she said, "I don't like what escort or prostitute sounds like." I looked at her profile. "I'm a geisha courtesan and trained in the art of companionship." This does NOT make any sense. I brought it up to her. She told me I didn't know what a geisha was. I fumed, and then the sim crashed, so I wasn't able to say this to her, but it bears a posting here for the sake of refreshing my own memory, and for everyone else's information.
The Differences Between Geisha and Courtesans:
Geisha
- Exclusively Japanese
- Belong to a house
- Owe a massive debt to their house for the use of the kimonos and makeup and training which is paid off over the course of their lives
- Obi ties in the back
- Trained in many arts for the sake of entertaining clients of the Geisha house
Courtesans
- Primarily European
- Independant
- No debt to anyone
- Vast majority are not formally trained in any art
- All flash and show, geared towards sexual fulfillment and often took the place of wives in public as well as in private
I'm aware that one of the few similarities between the two was that they had specific gentlemen callers who would give them gifts, but the gifts almost always went to the geisha house and not the individual. On top of this, courtesans held no higher standing in public and due to their sexual nature were not considered on par with the men who sought them out, nor did they rise in the courtesan ranks over time, like a geisha would. There were no courtesan ranks! Geisha means trained in the arts, for fuck's sake. Courtesans were originally female groupies of whoever was in power/held the court at the time.
You CANNOT be a "geisha courtesan." It makes no sense.
...Bitch.
P.S. To the person whom I told to read my archives. I bet you were confused, eh? I forgot I took them down. My apologies.
P.P.S. Mario Batali is fantastic.
The Differences Between Geisha and Courtesans:
Geisha
- Exclusively Japanese
- Belong to a house
- Owe a massive debt to their house for the use of the kimonos and makeup and training which is paid off over the course of their lives
- Obi ties in the back
- Trained in many arts for the sake of entertaining clients of the Geisha house
Courtesans
- Primarily European
- Independant
- No debt to anyone
- Vast majority are not formally trained in any art
- All flash and show, geared towards sexual fulfillment and often took the place of wives in public as well as in private
I'm aware that one of the few similarities between the two was that they had specific gentlemen callers who would give them gifts, but the gifts almost always went to the geisha house and not the individual. On top of this, courtesans held no higher standing in public and due to their sexual nature were not considered on par with the men who sought them out, nor did they rise in the courtesan ranks over time, like a geisha would. There were no courtesan ranks! Geisha means trained in the arts, for fuck's sake. Courtesans were originally female groupies of whoever was in power/held the court at the time.
You CANNOT be a "geisha courtesan." It makes no sense.
...Bitch.
P.S. To the person whom I told to read my archives. I bet you were confused, eh? I forgot I took them down. My apologies.
P.P.S. Mario Batali is fantastic.
3.17.2006
3.15.2006
- You're going back to school at the end of the year and will be in school for the next three, four, seven years.
- You'll be in Japan in two years.
- After you're back in the states, you'll be in Japan again for a few years at least, and you do NOT want to raise children in Japan.
- Your mother would flip.
- Your father's lineage would continue.
- They'd be related to Lael. Not only that, but they might turn out like his parents.
- You don't like the human race and don't want it to exist in the first place.
- Your feelings of needing to clean up after your fellow humans in the form of adoption would never be sated.
- You don't know three languages yet to teach to them.
- You're not even of legal drinking age yet. Not like you care, but maybe you will.
- Your mother has ovarian cysts and had to have C-sections. You have no idea whether you're genetically okay to do this.
- You're poor, you need to save up money first.
- Those jokes about you and him giving birth to the devil himself are still true.
- Finishing college will be very difficult, nigh impossible, and will make your mommy sad.
- You just used the word mommy.
For babies:
- Josiah's getting to that age.
- His parents would probably have a reason to like me. Or pretend to.
- Josiah doesn't want to adopt.
- The younger you are, the more likely the kid won't have defects.
- You'll have more energy.
- Your mom didn't do too bad, being 21 and all.
- Babies. With Josiah. Little Josiah babies. Taisawa babies. Cute little brown-eyed baby people. Blonde, even, perhaps. Brown hair grey eyes, blonde hair brown eyes. Yours. Made of Josiah. Together.
- On the beach, picking them up and swinging them into the ocean. Their open hands full of baby crabs and sand. Grinning, laughing, screaming, chasing each other.
- Oh God, what's wrong with me.
When more things slop into the for rather than the against, we'll talk. Otherwise, Adrienne, keep your head on straight.
3.13.2006
I pine for the day when Missy's abortion of a marriage fails spectacularly and I crush her underneath my success.
Mmmmmm. Delicious hate.
Moving on, I was recommended a Japanese novel to get me started with hardcore nihongo learningz. Kokoro by Natsume Soseki. Sounds good.
Josiiiaaahh beeebbiieesss. :3
...Holy God, I want to get married and have bebbies and buy a house. Where the FUCK is this coming from?
>_o Agh.
...Xavier sounds nice...
Mmmmmm. Delicious hate.
Josiiiaaahh beeebbiieesss. :3
...Holy God, I want to get married and have bebbies and buy a house. Where the FUCK is this coming from?
>_o Agh.
...Xavier sounds nice...
3.04.2006
Thoughts right now:
Ugh, fucking cramps. This period will never end.
That story about the box of kittens still haunts me.
Clover can be posed in a variety of ways when she's very sleepy.
Josiah hates how young I am.
Good, now we're all caught up with right now. How about today?
I hurt my back in the same way I hurt it at Camp Sealth. Something's wrong with the muscles, strained them or something, but my upper back and shoulders ache and there's nothing I can do about it short of giving it a rest. So I'm giving it a rest by quitting that inconsequential retail job at Goodwill. It was the customers, and the pains in my body, and the mismanagement, and the $8/hr using exactly zero of my marketable skills and being a little retail robot with nary a thought in my head. I was aware of the metamorphosis, and let it happen. I let it happen to myself, I let the robot take over. It's the only way I could get through the day.
The first day on register was painful. Slow. Static. I was trapped in a glass barricade with baubles from the last century as ammo. (Part of me is afraid that Josiah has now grown tired of me and reads this as if it were some sort of ancient Egyptian tablet of hieroglyphs. He was right. Which one was it?) The two patient gentle Indian women took care of me, but by and large I was on my own. Supervisor tells me I get a spontaneous raise for no reason. Great. Who cares? All I wanted to get through was the day. I had no idea how my body could have energy stores large enough to do this all over again the next day.
Seriously, my back is killing me. I'm too ashamed of hating this job so much to ask for anyone to rub it. Like I should be wearing this knot as punishment for being stupid or unreasonable or just plain young.
I brought that new black book with me, and tarnished it with some mumbling about how, when I'm famous, they'll look back on all my writing without dates for reference. That had been one of the reasons I had made this in the first place. Needing a date for my writings, babbling, doodles, whatever I made.
Angel's going to be seven on April second. Amazing. Time falls away so fast.
I feel twelve and awkward, too skinny legs (which I never had) and all thumbs. Tripping myself with myself. Bleeeeeeeeding, so tired of blood everywhere, on my hands sometimes even, having to wash it and the metallic scent of money off my hands. There was a really nice shirt there that I was thinking about buying my mother. Too bad eh? I couldn't have afforded it anyway, she would've wanted me to spend it on the car payment.
I have no idea what I'm going to do with this credit card. I feel so ashamed for having one and not being able to pay it off immediately. How did I get here, I demand of myself, but I already know. It started with that stupid hand-made curtain I dried. My huge mistake costing everyone money. Again, picking a job that I like but that has no security. My huge mistake. My huge fuck ups, all of them all around me like keepsakes, reminding me all the time of why I'm here and that it's no one else's fault but me.
One of those things, Josiah, that you were looking for me to learn? Some of my best everything comes from hardships and hard times. I'm aware of this. I would never intentionally put myself in a very bad situation in order to drawn inspiration out of it, however, because the only bad time that ever drew such beauty from such a garish wound is when you and I go down into the shitter. Nothing else is worth much. I have a few memories from that job, a few things I was asked, conversations, people I met or never met.
Dancing's what makes me whole
"I like your hair. Are you an artist?"
How flattering. That smile was genuine, let me tell you what.
I tried to convince myself that I liked it and that I was there for a reason, but something crawled out from inside me and I was left with an answer without a question or reason.
Not much of a difference between unloading like this and babbling, I suppose. Josiah's probably falling asleep or waiting for me to so he can slip back to his computer.
Oh God, have I gained some of that weight back? What a crushing defeat.
That story about the box of kittens still haunts me.
Clover can be posed in a variety of ways when she's very sleepy.
Josiah hates how young I am.
I hurt my back in the same way I hurt it at Camp Sealth. Something's wrong with the muscles, strained them or something, but my upper back and shoulders ache and there's nothing I can do about it short of giving it a rest. So I'm giving it a rest by quitting that inconsequential retail job at Goodwill. It was the customers, and the pains in my body, and the mismanagement, and the $8/hr using exactly zero of my marketable skills and being a little retail robot with nary a thought in my head. I was aware of the metamorphosis, and let it happen. I let it happen to myself, I let the robot take over. It's the only way I could get through the day.
The first day on register was painful. Slow. Static. I was trapped in a glass barricade with baubles from the last century as ammo. (Part of me is afraid that Josiah has now grown tired of me and reads this as if it were some sort of ancient Egyptian tablet of hieroglyphs. He was right. Which one was it?) The two patient gentle Indian women took care of me, but by and large I was on my own. Supervisor tells me I get a spontaneous raise for no reason. Great. Who cares? All I wanted to get through was the day. I had no idea how my body could have energy stores large enough to do this all over again the next day.
Seriously, my back is killing me. I'm too ashamed of hating this job so much to ask for anyone to rub it. Like I should be wearing this knot as punishment for being stupid or unreasonable or just plain young.
I brought that new black book with me, and tarnished it with some mumbling about how, when I'm famous, they'll look back on all my writing without dates for reference. That had been one of the reasons I had made this in the first place. Needing a date for my writings, babbling, doodles, whatever I made.
Angel's going to be seven on April second. Amazing. Time falls away so fast.
I feel twelve and awkward, too skinny legs (which I never had) and all thumbs. Tripping myself with myself. Bleeeeeeeeding, so tired of blood everywhere, on my hands sometimes even, having to wash it and the metallic scent of money off my hands. There was a really nice shirt there that I was thinking about buying my mother. Too bad eh? I couldn't have afforded it anyway, she would've wanted me to spend it on the car payment.
I have no idea what I'm going to do with this credit card. I feel so ashamed for having one and not being able to pay it off immediately. How did I get here, I demand of myself, but I already know. It started with that stupid hand-made curtain I dried. My huge mistake costing everyone money. Again, picking a job that I like but that has no security. My huge mistake. My huge fuck ups, all of them all around me like keepsakes, reminding me all the time of why I'm here and that it's no one else's fault but me.
One of those things, Josiah, that you were looking for me to learn? Some of my best everything comes from hardships and hard times. I'm aware of this. I would never intentionally put myself in a very bad situation in order to drawn inspiration out of it, however, because the only bad time that ever drew such beauty from such a garish wound is when you and I go down into the shitter. Nothing else is worth much. I have a few memories from that job, a few things I was asked, conversations, people I met or never met.
Dancing's what makes me whole
"I like your hair. Are you an artist?"
How flattering. That smile was genuine, let me tell you what.
I tried to convince myself that I liked it and that I was there for a reason, but something crawled out from inside me and I was left with an answer without a question or reason.
Not much of a difference between unloading like this and babbling, I suppose. Josiah's probably falling asleep or waiting for me to so he can slip back to his computer.
Oh God, have I gained some of that weight back?
2.25.2006
Hmm.
Somewhere in my tiny white ovaries is a little Octavia.
Hello little person.
How odd to think that I am carrying you around right now.
:o
Josiah translation:
Hmm.
Somewhere inside my ovaries is an undeveloped egg that will someday be one half of a child of mine, perhaps, and here I am saying hello to it because I'm silly like that. And the name Octavia just sounds nice. Comments like this stem from the fact that I have a curiosity as yet unvoiced to you that I'm going to end up having children anyway, regardless of how much I don't want them or how many crazy hormone swings I go through.
How weird that I've had you inside of me this entire time and yet never noticed till now. I'm musing on this aspect of the fact, as I find it interesting and never considered this. In fact, I've had her inside of me since before I was fully developed myself, and so on and so forth with all of the mothers and daughters.
:o
Somewhere in my tiny white ovaries is a little Octavia.
Hello little person.
How odd to think that I am carrying you around right now.
:o
Josiah translation:
Hmm.
Somewhere inside my ovaries is an undeveloped egg that will someday be one half of a child of mine, perhaps, and here I am saying hello to it because I'm silly like that. And the name Octavia just sounds nice. Comments like this stem from the fact that I have a curiosity as yet unvoiced to you that I'm going to end up having children anyway, regardless of how much I don't want them or how many crazy hormone swings I go through.
How weird that I've had you inside of me this entire time and yet never noticed till now. I'm musing on this aspect of the fact, as I find it interesting and never considered this. In fact, I've had her inside of me since before I was fully developed myself, and so on and so forth with all of the mothers and daughters.
:o
2.14.2006
2.04.2006
Everyday brings change
And the world puts on a new face
Sudden things rearrange
And this whole world seems like a new place
The curve of her thigh met the skirt she was wearing like a sin that makes your mouth water. Each step make the back of it hug her ass and lifted up, just enough, just ever so slightly as to let me see that she wasn't wearing any underwear.
Secretly I been tailing you
Like a fox that preys on a rabbit
Oh God, it makes me ache to watch her move like this. The water on the streets from the night rain was making a sparkling pathway for her alongside the storefronts and elaborate entryways of so many apartment buildings.
Had to get you and so I knew
I had to learn your ways and habits
I already knew where she was going, but I liked watching her movement, the steps she took and the way she held her purse.
You were the catch that I was after
I looked up and I was in your arms
And I knew that I was captured
I want to get back into this. I want to be the stalker.
What's this whole world coming to
Things just ain't the same
And the world puts on a new face
Sudden things rearrange
And this whole world seems like a new place
The curve of her thigh met the skirt she was wearing like a sin that makes your mouth water. Each step make the back of it hug her ass and lifted up, just enough, just ever so slightly as to let me see that she wasn't wearing any underwear.
Secretly I been tailing you
Like a fox that preys on a rabbit
Oh God, it makes me ache to watch her move like this. The water on the streets from the night rain was making a sparkling pathway for her alongside the storefronts and elaborate entryways of so many apartment buildings.
Had to get you and so I knew
I had to learn your ways and habits
I already knew where she was going, but I liked watching her movement, the steps she took and the way she held her purse.
You were the catch that I was after
I looked up and I was in your arms
And I knew that I was captured
I want to get back into this. I want to be the stalker.
What's this whole world coming to
Things just ain't the same
2.02.2006
I have rekindled my love of social experimentation and my utter disgust with the human race as an existing entity in general. You can thank Ash for the inspiration.
Suppose I wanted to flip Natalie's world upside-down. Or I just wanted to play with her a bit, whatever. See what happens when the bleeding fish is put in the same small space as a shark. Push push pushing her. She'll come round. She wants in on the business thing, at any rate, and who am I to deny people the right to make copious amounts of money doing something I could do blindfolded and missing both arms?
Sorry this is a shitty post, but I'm sitting naked on the floor of my bathroom and I'm very tired and I have a toasty hot Josiah waiting for me in bed to snuggle with. Go do something productive, for fuck's sake!
Oh, and the money thing's been somewhat resolved. More on that later.
Suppose I wanted to flip Natalie's world upside-down. Or I just wanted to play with her a bit, whatever. See what happens when the bleeding fish is put in the same small space as a shark. Push push pushing her. She'll come round. She wants in on the business thing, at any rate, and who am I to deny people the right to make copious amounts of money doing something I could do blindfolded and missing both arms?
Sorry this is a shitty post, but I'm sitting naked on the floor of my bathroom and I'm very tired and I have a toasty hot Josiah waiting for me in bed to snuggle with. Go do something productive, for fuck's sake!
Oh, and the money thing's been somewhat resolved. More on that later.
1.11.2006
I have 5 days to make $354.
My life revolves around money. I'll be cleaning up the kitchen and working out to distract myself today, but I'll still have it all firmly lodged in the back of my head. Kind of hoping I can tell my mum that since I haven't been working, I can't really pay for my car shennanigans, now can I? Hoping she'll be understanding.
I'll be selling Tamagocchi because I need the money, and as much as I like little Hirucchi, he was a bad investment. People are undercutting the auctions up on Ebay. By a lot. Someone in particular, upset that they're not getting the huge payoff they wanted, has flooded the market. I'm extremely downtrodden; this side business has been the major source of income for me in the last few weeks. I'm only seeing half the profit and all of the work, so frustrating.
No calls from 3ric, no responses from e-mail. I have a phone call I should be getting back to, but the first thing I have to ask them is if they accept people with multiple facial piercings and unnaturally colored hair. I seriously doubt it.
Really depressed right now, actually. I feel like I can't do anything no matter how much I want to work. So disappointed and worn out.
My life revolves around money. I'll be cleaning up the kitchen and working out to distract myself today, but I'll still have it all firmly lodged in the back of my head. Kind of hoping I can tell my mum that since I haven't been working, I can't really pay for my car shennanigans, now can I? Hoping she'll be understanding.
I'll be selling Tamagocchi because I need the money, and as much as I like little Hirucchi, he was a bad investment. People are undercutting the auctions up on Ebay. By a lot. Someone in particular, upset that they're not getting the huge payoff they wanted, has flooded the market. I'm extremely downtrodden; this side business has been the major source of income for me in the last few weeks. I'm only seeing half the profit and all of the work, so frustrating.
No calls from 3ric, no responses from e-mail. I have a phone call I should be getting back to, but the first thing I have to ask them is if they accept people with multiple facial piercings and unnaturally colored hair. I seriously doubt it.
Really depressed right now, actually. I feel like I can't do anything no matter how much I want to work. So disappointed and worn out.
1.08.2006
I have 7 days to make $486.
Before, all the fireworks exploded
Documentaries on paraphiles. Cutesy hiragana and little Hirucchi who hovers and watches me as I fuss over the decorations of his Tamagocchi house.
Our conversations were so loaded, innuendo flying
Reviews, oh God, reviews. $70 for Tamagocchi and the next three. Nevermind the cost of the games cancels out the payment, but I'll resell them on SA Mart for no profit. Doing the math in my head, I have $50 coming to me from Keith from this last week's sales. $120 from that alone. $366 now.
I have 7 days to make $366.
Now what can we say?
Hoping 3ric will call me again. Ask me to come back, help out, talk more. Maybe another $60. Another maybe, $80 for contract database work. If that all goes well, $140 more.
Theoretically, I have 7 days to make $226.
Have a nice day
I imagine I have enough food to last me the week. Past that, I need to worry about paying rent. If I put it that way...
I have 23 days to make $482.
Looks like rain today
This is going to be interesting.
Before, all the fireworks exploded
Documentaries on paraphiles. Cutesy hiragana and little Hirucchi who hovers and watches me as I fuss over the decorations of his Tamagocchi house.
Our conversations were so loaded, innuendo flying
Reviews, oh God, reviews. $70 for Tamagocchi and the next three. Nevermind the cost of the games cancels out the payment, but I'll resell them on SA Mart for no profit. Doing the math in my head, I have $50 coming to me from Keith from this last week's sales. $120 from that alone. $366 now.
I have 7 days to make $366.
Now what can we say?
Hoping 3ric will call me again. Ask me to come back, help out, talk more. Maybe another $60. Another maybe, $80 for contract database work. If that all goes well, $140 more.
Theoretically, I have 7 days to make $226.
Have a nice day
I imagine I have enough food to last me the week. Past that, I need to worry about paying rent. If I put it that way...
I have 23 days to make $482.
Looks like rain today
This is going to be interesting.
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