Wardrobe of Eunuchs

2006-06-21T14:00:00.000-05:00

CLOSING THE WARDROBE DOORS

Welp, it's come to that time that we all knew was inevitable. Housing the the Wardrobe of Eunuchs has been quite the experience for the these past 2 1/2 years. These little cabinets have watched me grow and mature from all sorts of little and big things...and now I feel that, unfortunately, this Wardrobe, as welcoming as it has been for me, no longer fits me. This is to say...goodbye to you Wardrobe, and thank you so much for always being here for me to turn to.

I feel like I've learned and gained so much in this past year I've been out of high school. My bonds with best friends have become tighter than I feel they've ever been, I learned how to find my own angle with each individual I meet, I've been blessed with a wonderful mentor and an unfaltering, faithful community that is the Orphan Foundation of America, I've experienced a little rise and fall in the entertainment industry, and not comes the time where I make the biggest leap of all: moving to Australia. Thus, I feel that in this move I do not have room enough to take the Wardrobe with me, so instead it will be stored in my and maybe a few others hearts forever, as I move on into some other part of the web.

Here are a few fun things before I go...

You Communicate With Your Eyes

When you say, "I'll believe it when I see it" - you really mean it.
For you, what you see is a lot more important than what you hear.
You don't take someone's words at face value. You judge people by their facial expressions, body language, and appearance.
You tend to be quiet, but when you talk, you tend to make eye contact and describe things in colorful detail.

How Do You Communicate?

You Are Austin

A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll.
You're totally weird and very proud of it.
Artistic and freaky, you still seem to fit in... in your own strange way.

Famous Austin residents: Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, Andy Roddick

What American City Are You?

So, now that I've everything out of the way regarding my trip to Australia...what are the aspirations I am closing these doors under? Let's start from greatest to least, respectively.

1. To enjoy my environment. No matter what happens, I always want to be able to enjoy where I am and the majority of people I'm around, even if it's only myself.
2. To be successful. I desire more than anything in my ambitions to succeed in my pursuits, whatever they may be. I want to act. I need to act. I will.
3. To find love. As fickle as it may be, I like to dedicate myself to things, and in this department, much as I've been involved, I haven't fully invested myself in a long time. I don't really feel like dating so much anymore as I would like to simply find something and stick with it. Marriage? I don't know about that one...but definantly something worth while, and NOT just on a materialistic level!
4. To travel. I love travelling; the most precious sence to me are my eyes--if I didn't have them I don't think I'd want to live. That being said, I love seeing new things, new places, being there in unchartered territory or where people conquered thousands of years ago...I hope, for a time, to live in Canada, Ireland, Scotland, and France at some point. Perhaps Germany as well.

Blah blah blah. I've also decided a name that I like best for a little boy. I decided it while I was vacationing with friends in Ocean Isle, North Carolina.

Preston Raleigh.

2006-05-28T01:59:00.000-05:00

Foxtrot, O Brother

Got plenty a' things on my mind right now.
Steerin' the wheel gets tough when it's so late,
Especially with roads so silent and dark.

I come across a pair of foxes...
Their mate is lying dead in the middle of the road.
They're shouting "Where have you gone, friend?"

"Hopefully somewhere better than here," I muttered.
Them foxes looked at me with such anguish...
They ran off into a field somewheres.

I reckon they're just waitin' in the wings
'Til I'm out of sight. Then they'll come back on stage
And pray to God that poor old feller's death scene ends.

2006-05-28T01:42:00.000-05:00

The Good Ol' Days

Goodbye Lewis Residence
You provided me
With many fond memories
And now I'm gettin' gone
I guess this is...so long.

Goodbye sorrowful community
Graveyard in the shadows of trees
Goodbye to what use to be.

Will you remember me?
I hope you do.
I hope you remember my smile
My fingers tracing your nose,
Tugging at your earlobes,
Will you remember that?

I hope you live a happy life.
I hope you have children
Who make you proud,
Who never cause you trouble or doubt

I hope you marry a lovely wife.

I hope your house is a home
And you're amongst people
You can comfortably call your own,
And your days are filled
With endless beauty.

And I hope someday, when I'm old,
I'll have the pleasure
Of drifting off to sleep,
To wake up with your face in my hands,
Just like the good ol' days.
Now I know you'll never leave me again.

2006-05-25T17:05:00.000-05:00

?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??

Morpheus
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2006-05-14T20:33:00.000-05:00

Cursive - Staying Alive

I've decided tonight I'm staying alive just kicking & screaming
Blood boiling & steaming
There are things far too dark to comprehend
Sleep on it one more night my sad old friend

Doo do doo do doo do doo do

The worst is over.

Gosh I'm having some difficulties dealing with my perspective of people and their feelings towards me.

2006-05-12T18:44:00.000-05:00

Oooooooh Frustrations...

Man................................................I don't know what....how...to feel...I feel like a teenager. Woo, another half a year to go to cut that out. Only another 3 months or so until Australia...only a few more weeks until the beach...yip!

Anyways.

I feel childish, in a bad way. And I feel like someone is watching me. Dunno who would, dunno why...but I can't keep typing. More later.

---Skitzo

2006-04-19T12:20:00.000-05:00

I am pertified out of my fucking mind. Out. Of. My. Mind.

I don't even know if I'm even going to be able to participate in the movie project...I sent a director to my teacher (who is the casting director) about how I was concerned about finances, and I just called my film director, and he says he really doesn't know how things are going to be able to go, and that they may have to...drop me. I feel...disappointed. Ashamed. A loss of self-worth. Slightly alarmed. I feel very hurt right now. I do not want to drop this project; I know it would be good for me, but I've already invested towards Australia, and I need money desperately. He said he doesn't want to hinder my chances of other things, but this movie is what I've been looking towards--it's why I didn't apply for more financial aide. My brain is being wracked, and I feel like I'm choking right now trying to hold back gasping for air in front of everyone in this library. God, if you could please lift me up right now I'd be very appreciative. I need to win a lottey ticket or something, I need to win something. Nothing big, just a few thousand dollars...let me put it all out on paper:

I currently have approximately $2200 at my disposal.

With my next two paychecks, I should and up with som $2600.

Mum is going to make me pay the next two months rent, so that brings me to $2100.

Manditory travel insurance for Australia takes me down to $1700.

My round-trip plane ticket will put me at $750.

I need at least $700 to enter Australia alone. This leaves me with $50. Fifty dollars for a whole summer.

On top of that, my balance at school is -$1700 odd, I have a Stafford loan coming up in six months totally $2026, and if they expect me to join SAG that's another $1600. I don't know. I just don't know. I know, however, that I need to relay the message to my teacher that this project IS important to me. I'm panicing right now, and I just need to take some deep breaths and think these things through--what's mandetory, what can be covered, and so forth. May God be with me, I pray.

2006-04-18T21:08:00.000-05:00

Trouble, Oh Trouble

My mum sucks. So does financial aide.

So, it has come to my recent attention that pretty soon, within the next month or so, I'm pretty much not going to have any cash. This will in no way stop me from fulfilling my dreams, as I'm sure you all know, but it may definantly hinder my near future, i.e. I might have to find some other job that will gaurentee me fast cash, which means no movie, which means...I may be fucked in a year or so. I could still change my plans. But let me tell you girls what's up:

My mum, though she still claims me as a dependant, has decided to no longer pay my rent (which would only be for two more months anyways, but that's about $500 I'll have to splurge). I think she should since I'm still in school, but whatever. Then I call up financial aide because my $2000 work-study scholarship isn't showing up on my statement. You were right, Kim--turns out the money I'm making is the money in the scholarship. My current balance (what I owe the university) is $1773. As of April 3rd, I have $1853.07 in my bank account. With what I'm going to be putting out towards the school and rent (thank the good Lord above for OFA), it looks like little Rene is going to have *maybe* $500 at the end of May. Now sure, that's enough to pay for my travel insurance.....

Something is fishy, ladies. Besides the part about my mother lying to me about not recieving child support for the past seven years, or the fact that every tax season she loans out three and four thousand dollars to my sisters, or the fact that she changed her address around so that she could still recieve checks from the government for Stevo when he went to live with dad.

...anywho, to make a long story short...I'm needing some major dough, and I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to do that right now. I HAVE to have money for my SAG membership (which yes, I can make in payments, but that bitch is about $1600), and a little over $900 for my round-trip ticket to Australia by the end of June. I don't know how, but I'm going to have to approach my film director and talk some serious finance. I'm also going to have to call up OFA for some advice and clearance, as well as the school for when they're going to need the money, and BESIDE that issue I'm going to have a $2026 Stafford loan over my shoulders in 6 months. Personally, I'd like to have EVERYTHING paid off before I leave, but that stuff alone is looking to be some $4600 odd, and I'm going to need money on top of that handy for when we move down under! That means, roughly, I've got to find a way to make at LEAST $6000 in the next few months. I think I'm going to try and get a Temp in Bristol, and I'll try updating you guys in the next few days as to what results of this conflict, but boy is there some weight on my shoulders right now....

2006-04-11T16:23:00.000-05:00

Crazy lumps all twisted up in a big mess.
Who can't contend with a contender
With rough stubs for hands, yeah
And even then as the spikes collided
In a cross-boned skeletal dance
Many men were alarmed in thinking
That perhaps these dreams were meant
For creating wonderous things,
In real time and on television screens
As the collision of fish twirl
From the ceiling, like it was OK
To not be a realist for a second.

Plain Religion
Holy is water,
Food, sleep, and the rest
Of our basic needs.

2006-04-01T23:07:00.000-06:00

SO, ABOUT POETRY CLASS...

It started out pretty dull, but not that everyone is kind of getting into the system and writing better it has become pretty interesting. Tonight I actually followed the assignments, as she is very loose on subject and pretty much says we can do anything. I finally got around to writing a poem based on a paiting, and I must say what I beautiful painting it is, truly. I'm going to look up more on this artist--her name is Alice Dalton-Brown, and you wouldn't BELIEVE how real this stuff is! I hope one day I'm that good, but that's like wishing I were Beethoven and only knowing chopsticks on keyboard, hah! Anyhow, here is a link to the painting I am referring to in the poem; it is called Blue Comes Through:
http://www.movieposter.com/posters/archive/main/22/MPW-11137

Also, I did a character/fairy tail based stanza poem, and after reading it I must say it definantly ranks in the top 5 poems that I'm proud of. I mean, it might even get up to one simply because it's totally outside of myself and feels so genuinely...genuine! I'm really pleased with how it's come out, and I hope my teacher takes to it as well. It's based off of the musical Peter Pan, and it's basically a love letter from the adolescent Peter to his dear friend Wendy. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to set it really far ahead, to where she's been in the real world and how now gotten old, or to when she is taken off by pirates, so I left it in the dark so that it could be open interpretation. For me, I like the thought of it being long after she's left (though time goes much faster in Neverland, so he can't really tell), and after all of this time to think on it he's come to this conclusion and makes a promise to let her know of it, somehow, some way. Anyways, I should stop rambling and get to it. Here you go, let me know what you think! Haha, and just HOW are you going to do that? Oh well, maybe you can stalk me on the internet.

The Mighty Sea and Me

Where am I escaping to?
Can I spread out my arms, wide
And tumble face forward into
Your mighty blue abiss?
Would you allow me to?

Your soft coughs caress
The curtains of my abode,
And yet you do not assult them
With your salty drops of sweat.
I am thankful for your graciousness.

Allow me to extend my apology
For taking your "hello"s for granted,
And for those others
Who rape you so, from all angles;
Allow me to lie face down into your dark sheets,
And have you smother every bit of me.

From Peter with Love

Dear Wendy,

Just hear me out for a minute.
I've had some time to think,
and I realize what I said to you
was foolish. Of course I'll be Father,
and you can be even more than Mother.

You can be the Queen.

I didn't expect you to run off like that.
Where are you now? Perhaps off
with the indians, or kidnapped
by the pirates--who can say?
Maybe, even, you went back home.
That's what the Lost Boys say.

How could I have treated you that way?
Wendy, I promise, cross my heart
and put a needle in my eye
That one day I will come and avenge you,
wherever you are, and that we
can exchange thimbles just like before.

Maybe you'll never even get this...
But! If you do! Know that, well...
I really like you. Well, what I mean
to say is a really really like you...
OK, OK, but don't tell abybody...
I love you. - Peter

2006-03-28T14:21:00.000-06:00

THOUGHTS AND THOUGHTS AND THEN THOUGHTS

I think what kind of pizza a person chooses to eat says a lot about them. Me, I like pepperoni and mushrooms. I think the pepperoni concludes that I have some traditional ideals of things and that my thoughts, opinions, and morals are of great value to me. I think the mushrooms contribute to my creative side--that I am deverse and can see beauty in a wide range of things, both typical and atypical. Veronica, my best friend, also likes the same sort of pizza as I do. I not only feel this way about pizza, but any sort of food a person chooses. For example, people who choose cappachinos over coffee are most likely eclectic and trendy. I imagine that most coffee drinkers are somewhat of homebodies (this doesn't mean they don't go out, it just means that they love time to themselves at home) and are pretty determined about there plans, even if they never go through with them. One day I may even write a book about people and how the type of food they eat determines and defines who they are. No one in the world has EXACTLY the same taste in food, just as no one in the world is exactly the same, and thus I think this theory is a just analysis. That would be a fun thing to do.

I can't wait to write my book. I mean, I guess I of course can seeing as I don't plan on doing it until much later on down the line, but the idea of it is so thrilling. It will be a nonfiction, most definantly. I hope that lots of people read it and take back a lot from it. It would certainly be listed under something like religious exploration, a trial of universal theories, and definantly have a lot to do with philosophy and the ways an ideal thought towards life can be interpretted. I would never ever rank my book unto something that should be holy; only something on a par with that of Confucian ideals: just me speaking about things, and nothing more. I'm certainly not a prophet, and I think it helps that I'm not devote to one particular religion. In this way, I can reach people from all angles and they can take my words however they wish. For instance, I would like to include that I think it is wrong for one to be influenced religiously from a direct interptretation from one living person to another. Why? Well, because we can only be ourselves and no one else in this lifetime, why should we let someone else's opinion on existance influence our own perception, which is the only real truth as we know it? If one should wish to be influenced, I say it must be seeked out by that particular person NOT by asking another (as that would be direct influence), but by observation or reading. I would consider reading to be a valid form of gathering knowledge because it is not personally directed towards that one person, it is a general/genuine feeling that the writer is expressing to himself. Books are also more available, and a large variety of types among them, and thus I find that this would also be nurturing to the seeking soul.

I need to shut up before I start writing the book already.

2006-03-19T18:02:00.000-06:00

How Hard Can It Be?

Words keep tumbling into my head
But it seems like when I find the time
To write them down, they are drown out
By some other stream of thought.

It causes a slight frustration for me,
Because I long to feel the rythm
Of my hand in motion, scribbling gibberish
All over whatever I'm holding may be.

When I'm eating or when I'm walking down the street
Is mostly when these thoughts come on--
I'm not sure why; perhaps because walking
And eating are universal things.

Nonetheless, if this keeps on keeping on
I'll have to do something. Perhaps I should
Carry around a pin, constantly,
And write it down on my skin, for all to see.

I thought of some other names. Noel and Noah. I think I would definantly include the name Anlon in my kid's name--strong Gaelic names mean a lot, I think--but as for the other contributions I am just SO unsure. I'd want something that would be loyal above all things. Gentle and determined, strong willed but easy-going. Someone of good character with family values is what I want in his name. Bah. I need to find someone with the last name O'Riordan. That's such an awsome name. So is McAdams.

I'm looking into some universities I found passively interesting last year. Keep tuning in for further updates, you invisible person, you.

2006-03-17T13:51:00.000-06:00

So Many Names to Forget

If ever I were to have children, I know for a fact I'd name the little girl Sophie. Not only is it a plus that is is French, to go along with the already established hints towards my distant heritage, but it just seems soft and delicate to me, yet strong and stable. As a child, I always thought it was a sort of funny name, making me think of a couch, which I call a sofa more than anything. For some reason it also linked me to the name Blanche, which is also an ugly and kind of harsh name, but I think that's because I read story about a pair or bears who were named that.

As for if I were to ever have a male child...I'm not sure. There have never been many female names that I have liked, and so it's easy to distinguish what would be agreeable for a she. For a he, however, there are so many names I love and have felt strongly for through the years. The first name I ever loved was Michael; I was of course very young and had no incling to it's populatiry at the time. Then I fell in love with the name Shawn (Sean), and by the age of eight my two favourite names were Kongo and Tony, then Teddy at nine. Sometime between then and 13 I came to adore the following: Trenton, Tristan, Dwight, Miles, Wyatt, Jeremiah and Bryce. I've always liked looking through those infamour babyname books, and when I started frequenting the Bristol Public Library more often in my early teen years, they had QUITE the collection: at least 10 books, each barely more than 1000 pages at the least. Of course I never got through it all, but it was an enjoyable passtime (from these books I liked the female names Nona and Naomi). As I started reading novels, I came across even more beautiful names: Hadrian, Treviaun, Sebastian, Simion, Gabriel, Gideon, Perrin...my love for names tumbled over onto three out of the four children my sister bore--I was dismayed with the last one, after having written up a list baring three hundred names I'd searched extinsively for and she'd picked none of.

I started thinking of names on a more universal scale, and thought of them not so much as names, but as the sound that defines a person and who he is. I started thinking of the name of objects and colors and sounds, and how they could be applied into a person's name. What rock star is it that has kids names Racer Rider and Rebel? I admire that. Kate Hudson named her kid Ryder as well, and I really think that's a lovely name. I like these names, as well, though I've never heard of anyone named them, and they're only based on an environmental scale: Tokyo, Bird, Indigo, Blu, Tennessee, Violette (kind of sounds like viola ending with a arounded A sound). Even brand names are applicable, though I can't say I enjoy enough to list. OK, maybe just a little: Dalton (Dalton Book Store), Spalding (sports brand), etc.

When I did research for my sister's last baby, I look up and found so many lovely, impressive names that now I have so many favourites I surely cannot remember them all. Allow me to list those that I can remember: Abner, Asher, Archer, Anlon, Ahren, Brenton, Baelon, Cillian, Cian, Demian, Ezrial, Elias, Gaelon, Montreal, Orion, Phayton, Perrin, Pryce, Preston, Riordan, Reston, Sterling, Stefan, Trinity, Urial, Urian, Weston...If only I could remember more. :P I added a girl name or two in there. But as you can see, I'm quite conflicted when it comes to the masculine names. Right now, if I absolutely had to chose, I'd probably choose from the following: Riordan, Reston, Preston, Baelon, Cian, Anlon, Phayton, Perrin, Gabriel and Hadrian. What a pick! SO, here is my hypothetical boy child, are you ready?

I have no clue!

2006-03-05T18:08:00.000-06:00

A Short Story Concept Board

It was all happening again.
He knew better though, this time around. The first time was something of a blur now, but even still he could remember the tingling feeling in his limbs, heavy and stiff, a feeling which he was now so akin to, willing or not. He tried to look the figure in the face, but all he could see was shadows, and more shadows, and even more shadows the harder he tried to make out any features. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and concentrated. Another deep breath, and he thrust himself up from the bed, where his body was still sleeping. Again he felt the strange coldness of his sleeping body, which he was now completely apart from, and tried to stand still on what felt like weightless feet.
Turning slowly to the figure, he stared into the shadows beneath it's veiled head. Cautiously, trying not the overcome himself in shivers, he reached for the hood of the figure. Patience, he reminded himself, as his trembling fingers touched the woolen hood. So slowly he pulled back the material from the figures head and stared into the eyes of...
"Mr. Rye, are you up yet," sounded a voice as he was all but sucked back into his sleeping self. He shot up from the bed, searching for the source, only to hear the sound of footsteps padding away outside of his door, and a letter slipped beneath it. The room was small, barely even considered a closet from what he was use to back home, but quite the commodity for the near nothing he had been paying for it the past few settis.
Rubbing the dust out of his eyes, and combing back hair with hands, he swung his feet to the side of the bed. No light was coming through the window just yet--still too early to leave the premises. Stretching, he got up with a yawn that made his jaws crack, and took a step to pick up the letter. Still a little groggy, he took another step to the makeshift desk, graciously provided by the hostel owners, and sat down. Thinking of the short, Simio owners warmed him up, if only for a breif moment. Fumbling around in the drawer for his last set of matches, he lit the lamp, fittingly small for the room, and nearly burned himself as he read the name on the seal of the letter.
'care to Riordan Deloria'

Dearest Riordan,

Did you honestly think you could run forever? In best tidings it would be for you not to run now, seeing as you must know we would not send this as a warning, but as notification that we are already here. Why are you doing this to yourself? What would your dear mother have thought, or have you forgotten of her drear demise already? Why run from something you can't escape? Keep dreaming, dear friend, for dreams are all you have left.

Signed,
The Keeper's Hand

Damn! How do they know, already?...Damn! He shot up, then, glancing swiftly around the room for his travelpak. Breifly making sure everything was still in check, he slipped on a tunic and pants, being careful not to make a sound, and reached under the desk for his shoes. Finally clasping the last strap, he peered through the blinds: just three feet of roof footing available, but it'd do. An alleyway was just below, but even it was too open--he must not be seen, by any. Breathing deep and long, he focused on the inner light, breathing in the hollowness of the still dark outside, and breathing out the bright light that would give him away. He was not afraid, but he was aware of the inept abuility that every breathing thing honed--the feeling of eyes and the feeling of not being alone--that would give him away to those who did and did not seek him. He could not risked being sensed, he could not. He needed to be one with the night, and nothing more than a shadow.
Queitly slipping out of the window, he creeped along the rooftop, as stealth as a squirell on a clothing line, to the back corner of the hostel. Looking one way and then another, he swung down and landed on the patch of grass he had anticipated would be there. Sun be thanked for Simio superstition, he thought as he padded through the grass. Keeping a grass garden was a well known tradition by the Simios to ward off ill-thoughts from a household. To bad that superstition hadn't held true tonight.

To be continued...

2006-03-01T13:51:00.000-06:00

Fight the Home-body

I feel the need to write
Beautiful songs keep on creeping up on me
Just hang a right
And everything will turn out OK, indeed
What does it matter now
Sitting here on the couch with no worries
I guess I'll have to figure out
How to get beyond this mess I've needed to clean,

Oh! What a lovely day, with the sky all blue and gray,
Oh! What a lovely place, but oh my God how I can't wait to leave!

These arms are filling...
But that glare, my God, it's chilling...

Just see the place
You could be within a matter of days
It's quite a sight
But no one is brave enough to take the flight
Please hurry up
Before your feet get stuck into the mud!
Don't let it tie you down,
Face the crowd, get up and shout out loud

Oh! What a lovely day, but I'll bet it's even better in some other place
Oh! What a lovely thought, but I can't seem to rid myself of the ones you brought!
Oh! How can I leave how can I stay, why must it be this way?
Oh! I can't wait to leave I can't wait to find...my destiny

Turn around....Spin around...Lay down...

2006-03-01T13:43:00.000-06:00

Frustration of the Ages

Dreaming of an old movie
The never existed
Now I find the days growing shorter
There's got to be something I'm missing
In this picture
Of dried out wenches
I've fallen to my knees
In need of thousands of stitches

I feel that if time keeps going on
I just might explode
It's heavy, what I'm feeling
Like a punctured eye or infection

Can't a live my life again
And make all those right moves
Is there nothing in this void of solace
That can make me do what should be?
I'm speaking, not hearing
Everything that I need to see
And yet this time keeps on passing
I'm so sick of it; I want to be a child.

2006-02-27T15:46:00.000-06:00

Sorry for the absence invisible ladies and gents...but things like moving, school work, work study, and other concerns have kept me from my usually dull updates. I only wish I could take the time out to realize that this is just as important, as well. Right now, I would like to reflect on the things that haven't happened to me, or have been of my concern this year, that have been miraculous and beneficial...or something of that nature.

1. I get picked for a role in class with the adorable guy I wanted a scene with
2. My OFA Scholarship Coordinator decides to write my an extra $1000 on a whim.
3. I ask Kim about what the safety time limit on getting with Him would be, knowing that it will never happen, and somehow he and his girlfriend break up not two weeks later.
4. He tells me something I've always wanted to hear.
5. My teacher, who is also a casting director, recommends me to a filmmaker, who in turn writes a part specifically for me in his to-be feature-legths film.
6. I get a job, requiring me to sit on my ass for $7.25 per hour.
7. I get accepted for the tri-level townhouse my roomates and I had been lusting after.
8. Veronica, my best of friends, is coming to visit me for spring break.
9. I find an awsome deal on a round-trip plane ticket to my hometown.
10. I am much more relaxed about speaking openly with guys and suggesting casual dates.

Lately I've found that I've been having black outs. My brother expressed that he has had this same problem, just recently, to me. At first I was a little sceptical, then recalled that there were 5, 6, 7 incidents that were traumatic for me, which I could not remember, after my friends asked me "What were you and Aaron argueing about in the living room?" I replied with "What are you talking about?" I found that, a few nights ago, I had requested to speak with Aaron in private, which eventually became very heated (so my friends tell me) and he stormed out the door. I opened it, shouted "You mother fucker!" and apparently slammed the door hard enough to make our townhouse shake. I remember conversations before that, and conversations afterwards, but I have no recollection of this! I feel that perhaps I should talk to him about it, but then, what would I have to say--I have no clue what it was about. It must have been pretty intense, though, because a number of my friends asked him about it, and he refused to tell them what went down. I hope things are alright between us...he actually IMed me online the day afterwards, strangely, and I guess he probably thinks I remember. I hope he isn't pissed at me. :(

2006-02-08T12:35:00.000-06:00

AHEM

You're going to have to stop if you're really in this for the both of us, and want me to sacrifice the last thing I hold precious. If it's a usual, round-about with anyone ordeal for you, that's going to depersonalize it for me, which is not cool, and make me feel cheap, not to mention afraid for my own well-being. If I wanted to be with a whore, I could have gotten it over with a long damn time ago. I'm more than willing to remain a prude than to be another check-mark on your list, so get what you can done this month, because after that you'd better start practicing your celibacy.

/rant

2006-02-06T22:22:00.000-06:00

I feel resolved. How? Well, being that I just realized it 10 seconds ago, of course I can explain it. No, but I think I kind of have an inkling as to why I am. Shall I go on? Actually, there's no real lengthy reason, I just feel that being here, in this apartment complex, with the friends I've had over the years living here as well is...ideal, and right. I don't feel any pressure in trying to appear pleasant socially, because I already have these friends, and I could care less to make more, seeing as how I'm moving this summer, and practically have no intentions on returning here. In this resolvement, I've been feeling a certain degree of solace in the fact that one day I'll eventually die, and if that day were today then I'd be fine with it. Usually, my philosophy of death was something along the lines of 'if it comes it comes,' but I didn't want to die, because I still wanted to experience some different things. I guess it doesn't help that I'm not looking forward to going in the courtroom, either. :P No matter...I think I'm happy to be here, for now.

I know I've already said this a million times, but it really is funny how life works out. Aaron is available again, and back in my life, and alas; I'm moving out of the country. That's swell. At least I realize that it's a hardly a reapproachable thing, and though it can be attempted to some degree, and I'm for sure a willing party, I doubt he'd want to make that sort of investment into things. He seems to have stolen all of my thoughts from me lately, and instead plastered his face all over my irises. Veronica says I have a crush. I told her "I don't know," and I don't. I'll never stop feeling for Him, and I know for certain how I feel about him--I feel how I've always felt. Alright, that's lame, so I'll say I feel how I've felt for years about him, but it's not something in which I have all sorts of expectations from his side; I don't. I know he's probably beyond me in that degree, and I know I wasn't enough for him way back when and I've learned from that, and now that I've finally grown to understand this it's..useless. Oh well, I don't mind. I'm going to do some writing about him...but not on here. Somewhere else...somewhere EXCLUSIVELY for me...so that I can read it and always have the memory of...

...well, if I told you I'd be giving that away. :P But I'll tell you one thing: I can't stop thinking about it, and how I can't wait to give in.

2006-02-05T14:45:00.000-06:00

You're an Passionate Kisser

For you, kissing is about all about following your urges
If someone's hot, you'll go in for the kiss - end of story
You can keep any relationship hot with your steamy kisses
A total spark plug - your kisses are bound to get you in trouble

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

An Passionate, eh? Who'd a thunk it...but of course, you MUST have already known this...

Moving on, moving on... I don't really like posting on this thing more than once every few days, however, sometimes I get in the mood to...ramble. Something really amazing happened to me lately, and here I go sounding like everyone else in this network.

I just can't see how this dream....no, it's still a dream, but how it could come true. Was it from hoping against all hopes, or from pure dedication to the thought, or some sort of connetic energy? Is it pre-destiny? I think I'm fooling myself. Not to mention him again, but Logan (damn, too late) really ruined my perception of what people say and how literal I'm to take it. I guess my mother didn't help much in that either, but I can't help but take what people say, that is negative, literal, and second/third/fourth/etc guess everything they say that's posotive. For example, whenever a guy calls me beautiful...I wonder what he means. Is it sincere? Is it infinite, or just at that moment in time? Is it merely something he uses, the word, as a device to make me comply, or to make me feel comfortable? I am sad to have to over-analyze this particular word so much, but I suppose since I don't feel that I'm beautiful, and I cannot change my own perception, I kind of feel like I'm being lied to. It's my own fault, surely, and I feel bad for the guys, because I kind of close up on that, and they've no clue why, but that's it, and it's not something I can change at the moment.

However...

I can stand it from one person. He called me funny looking once, though. :P Am I funny looking? I can certainly contort my face into such, but I don't think I am. Am I ugly? I'd like to not think so, and I don't think I am, either, but that's just me. I think I can take it from this person because...I trust him. I trust him like no other. I think that's it, but also the fact that I feel the same way about him, and for that to be a complete, full-on mutual feeling gives me...a certain amount of...I don't know. Contempt? But something more than contempt, more glorious in the realization that that flame is still going...I just can't find the word. Maybe I will one of these days.

I just don't know how to feel. I mean, I've most assuredly grown in the past few years, and become more...displaced from my own revellings in past failed relationships. I'm just going to feel whatever I want, and to hell with restraining those feelings, because I think that's what makes living, emotion, and it is the root of life and experience and I'd be proud to submit myself to such. Unbridle the human mind! But when I say I don't know...when I think about it, that is, this feeling that I feel, I think it's beautiful and I want to weep and now I'm laughing because that sounded like something from this hilarious scene in Bedazzled. Well, the thing is...I think I'll write more specifics later.

What the hell am I talking about?

2006-02-05T14:43:00.000-06:00

Who's hot now

2006-02-03T14:34:00.000-06:00

I think I should like to posts some old poems I've written on here, but I do not have ready access to them at the moment. Thus, I must continue this silly tangent of canundrums...or however you spell it.

Pre-Junk Phunk

This dress, it'll confess
The truths in this silly jest.

Recreated happiness
That seems amess
Amiss in the second thought
Of what Charles Darwin's teachings taught;
Wrought it out, with blue-collered fire
To help sire this monstrousity
That has pleagued our country
For the past century or so.

What the hell, ill ryhmes flow,
We're pushin' time, pushin' dough
To convince our wives we care
About how thickly this smog has insnared
Our thoughts with hummingbirds,
Flying upside down, weighing over 50 pounds,
Yes, I said super-size me, bitch
Before I have to start messin'
Rip your dress and, among other things,
Try to give this bird back it's wings.

Oops, I was a little quicker
Than I thought I'd be.

2006-01-29T15:29:00.000-06:00

AMERICANS DRINK STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE

Welp, here's another boring entry. Jessica #1 has moved in with us...it appears she and Aaron have called it quits, though I think it's more of a one-sided story than it seems. More later.

2006-01-23T23:39:00.000-06:00

It's a Self-Taught Disposition

Ambient thoughts
Criss cross
They all collied on the back-wash tide of my brain
Yeah, I'm still sane
But I'm waiting for the day
When I'll finally be able
To rid myself of these stains.

Can you...would you...
Feel this beating peice of metal
It circulates chrom through my vestels
I inhale confessions
I don't even think twice
About it--
How life will fuck you thousands of times...

That's a lie.

Sometimes I dream wide awake
And I feel my muscles ache,
To be rid of these conscieous chains
These proverbial irritations, recreations
And elivate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, after I posted the last entry, that night I told Kim what had gone down, and what I'd become known to. She was slightly embarrassed, as expected, but she complied that it was nothing against me, and that it wouldn't happen again. Uh huh.

You know what I'm waiting for? When I can touch down unto the beautiful sandstone continent and hear the buzz of digeridoos. When I can pop a cap off of a cider bottle and not think twice about walking in daylight. Smiling at the people I walk past and knowing that they won't avoid eye contact at all cost, and acknowledge the fact that yes, I am a person, just as they. I'm waiting until I can finally look over the dock, into the beautiful glimmering teal of Sydney Harbour and stare at the crabs finger along the coral, so slowly, and whisper to them "I know why you're dancing." Until I can stand at the shoreline, my arms outstretched, gazing into the glorious beyond of something so much larger than myself, running thousands and thousands of miles just to touch my feet. Until I feel the sand tickling between my toes as the water sucks it from beneath my feet. Until I finally go home.

2006-01-15T10:33:00.000-06:00

Kim has lied to me. I don't really know what to say to this.

Why has she lied to me? Well, most obviously it is because she is ashamed of something she has done, which is really the root of all lies:shame. That's why I personally feel lying is dishonorable to one's character and uncalled for--if you're going to do something you'll regret later, then it's best just not to do it. However, to go beyond these lengths and lie about something without even being interogated about it is...leaningly repulsive to me. If I have something I do not wish for my friends to know about, I simply do not talk about it. If they ask me about something too personal, or something I'd rather not have them savy of, I simply and politely tell them that I have no intensions of discussing the matter any further.

Now, what is it that Kim has lied about to me? She told me that, appomixately one week ago when she was taking a guy friend home, all they did were watch Pete & Pete and smoke whatever it was they decided to, which I personally knew was a bad idea, but couldn't/can't do much about. She told me, in detail, that she specifically sat on the floor, away from him, so that he wouldn't try hitting on her again, since he was on his bed and always attempted to cuddle her. Maybe she wasn't lying about the smoking part, but the rest of it was a pure fabrication.

Why would she lie to me about this? I mean, other than shame, I am suppose to be her friend, not someone she lies to just to make herself look better. Sure, this guy isn't all that attractive, and I knew that's how she felt, but that doesn't give her any more reason to lie to me and we both sit with it accordingly. This is not the nature of friends, in my eyes, and that is not how you go about creating a close, trusting friendship. I don't care what it is she did, whatever it was, and I could care less to know the details of that, but now I am disappointed in her, for the fact that she lied to me, as if on a whim. It makes me feel as though she feels that I am not intellectually apt to catch on to her falsaties, and furthermore that she is undermining my character, as if I do not deserve the truth, whatever it may be. I would have even been fine if she simply said she didn't want to talk about it, but the fact that she lied...I am at a loss of what to do, but eventually I must confront her. She cannot go on thinking that if she got away with this lie, she can certainly get away with others. No, I will not exploit her. No, I will not make rude jests. I will be understanding but firm in what I believe.

She told me, some years ago, that when her friends tell her secrets, so her they were not her secrets, so she saw no dilemna in letting others know what they were. A year following this I reminded her of the statement, and her reply is not as vivid in my memory as I would wish it so, but it was something in defence of those past beliefs, but also some righteous statement in that only the closest of friends she will hold secrets for. I am glad that I have remembered this over the years, if only because I shall know to keep my tongue guarded even now.

2006-01-08T18:33:00.000-06:00

DREAM LOG Entry 3/4?

TamborineMachine (6:15:00 PM): Let me tell you my neat dream
TamborineMachine (6:15:10 PM): Cause I don't want to forget it. I'm going to ppost it on my blog
TamborineMachine (6:15:57 PM): Well, you see, somehow I was an American flight attendent, and managed to slip by into Australia without going through the extrinuating process of showing a passport and permit and things of that nature
TamborineMachine (6:16:24 PM): And I got a job at this movie industry, a big coorerate business where critics came and watched and rated movies
TamborineMachine (6:16:50 PM): And we got a new boss...she was wearing all black robes, and she was very tall, with only her big dark eyes showing
TamborineMachine (6:17:07 PM): I knew there was something wrong about her, so I kept my distanceVerotica8i8 (6:17:15 PM): hahaha
Verotica8i8 (6:17:17 PM): i love it so far
TamborineMachine (6:17:52 PM): I warned the few friends I had there that she seemed dangerous to me, and that we can't directly leave, because then we definantly would be in good shape
TamborineMachine (6:18:18 PM): So they divised a plan to build a raft, undercover of course, and go across the river, behind the building, to safety
TamborineMachine (6:18:25 PM): I didn't go, because I decided to keep guard
Verotica8i8 (6:18:25 PM): lmao
TamborineMachine (6:19:00 PM): Slowly but surely, everyone who'd gone into the theatres to watch the movies were coming out in the same black robes as the woman, and they were all coming out in her likeness
TamborineMachine (6:19:08 PM): Not as tall, of course, but with the glazed eyes
TamborineMachine (6:19:42 PM): Those who noticed and tried to get away were snatched by the multitude of those in black robes, and transformed
TamborineMachine (6:20:02 PM): SO I just kept in the back lot, walking around with dead eyes and pretending to not notice anything
TamborineMachine (6:20:24 PM): My two friends, a guy and a girl, had set sail and were about midway through the river
TamborineMachine (6:21:00 PM): Suddenly, the water started rumbling, and up from the depths came a creature looking exactly like the woman, exept WAY bigger
TamborineMachine (6:21:20 PM): She knocked their raft over and the woman was looking around panicy
TamborineMachine (6:21:50 PM): She tried swimming for the other shore, but was pulled under, and the guy almost got back to the shore I was on, but at the last second a tidal wave swallowed him up
TamborineMachine (6:22:20 PM): I went inside, bowed to the woman, and suddenly I had black robes on, BUT I was not truly as the others were, I was indisguise
TamborineMachine (6:22:48 PM): The door that I had used was the last exit remaining (the one to the back), because somehow all of the others had disappeared, and I had that one still opened
TamborineMachine (6:23:05 PM): I pretended to guard the back, but as the woman turned away I ran for it, out the door
TamborineMachine (6:23:18 PM): She noticed of course, and screamed and came after me
TamborineMachine (6:23:53 PM): I dove from a platform into the river, and began swimming and hard as I could, and now she was running on the water, and a rumble came from the deep....
TamborineMachine (6:24:01 PM): That's the end.
Verotica8i8 (6:24:32 PM): so is that your new movie?
TamborineMachine (6:24:59 PM): lol, don't think so. I'd just like to remember it. So I can remember my dreams better. So that maybe they can INFLUENCE my movies... :P
TamborineMachine (6:25:09 PM): Cause I've had some pretty cool ones, as I'm sure lots have had
TamborineMachine (6:25:20 PM): I had another one, too, but I can't remember it as well now
TamborineMachine (6:25:46 PM): I just know that in it Logan and I were on vacation at a beach, and we were married and lived in Australia (I know, AHHHH)
TamborineMachine (6:25:52 PM): lol
TamborineMachine (6:26:03 PM): The thought of that is funny
TamborineMachine (6:26:07 PM): I think we even had a kid
TamborineMachine (6:26:10 PM): Odd stuff...

2006-01-06T11:59:00.000-06:00

I MIGHT ADD...

Hi Aaron. :)

*now excluding him from the direct audience*

Aaron's a great guy. I hope he's happy, and if he is I'm glad for it. I can tell, from the last time I saw him (well, before the last time I saw him wave to me from a car) and the times I've seen him lately he seems so much more...vibrant with life. I hope he is. Perhaps he's in love. Perhaps it's the freedom and responsibuility he has up here, on his own. Perhaps...I don't know. I wonder...does he feel good about himself? I hope he does. I wonder what he thinks I think of him...

I think he's just grand. I think he's truly one of a kind.

I wonder what the biggest adventure he's ever been on is. I wonder what it's like to be him. I wonder what his ambitions are, and what he thinks of things. I wonder what he thinks of me, and if he's afraid to be around me. I hope he isn't. I hope he wants to be my friend.

2006-01-06T11:25:00.000-06:00

AS IF THAT HADN'T BEEN SAID BEFORE

Earlier, I was browsing a bit, and decided to read the Beginning of the End of the Beginning of the End series....all this time, I felt that my writing had degraded from earlier periods, and I suppose I still believe that in some places...but I feel that, now having read it again, I wasn't so clear on the message I was trying to send. While at the time it was very close to my heart, now it seems I pointed out all of the trivial things, and emphasized the wrong points as to WHY it was the Beginning of the End. Perhaps I should explain further.

Frankly, I was becoming sick of the habitual weekly/nightly rituals that had developed around the lives of my friends and that which were seeping into myself. Too much of a good thing, maybe, but also, for myself, too much to have to deal with--constantly being around marijuana, among other drugs, did not seem to me the proper course of being drug free, rather, it made me either appear like I felt superior to my friends, which I certainly did not, or like a complete hypocrite. At barely 17 years old, it was especially scary to me that I had to watch my friends snort coke to have a decent night--it made me want to sob and run and scream all at once. I lost quite a bit of self-esteem for myself, then, just being there and watching this, so I really can't imagine how they feel/felt, whether it be powerful, cheap, cool, or whatever else.

I'm not going to pretend like the drugs did not contribute largely to my decisions to change my course of association and action. I've been looked down upon for this, and mostly excluded from primary social groups I would have earlier been accepted with open arms to. I'm also not going to pretend that that didn't effect my perception, or that it didn't hurt my feelings or burn me from the inside. All of this cannot and will not be denied, though it may be hard to admit.

Other than that, I was also getting tired of sitting around some 3 days a week at a particular friend's house nodding off as the guys played video games. This is fun, in the beginning, but after a few months it does tend to lean toward the lame side of things, especially when viewed initially as a party, which ruins your whole ideal of what a celebration of sorts really is, and makes you numb to when there actually IS something to celebrate for. I learned at this time that while it is good to value particularly unparelleled friendships, you do not have to show it by being around as much as possible. In fact, if you save your time for special occasions, friendships become more valuable, moments more memorable, and it becomes something to look forward to.

When I warned the only other girl that use to hang that she might not see me so often, she was slightly perplexed. I went on to ask her to please not tell the guys, because I knew it would be taken the wrong way, and told her of my plans to put a bit of distance between myself and the group for a while, and that I wasn't planning on coming back over for a long while. Sadly, it didn't quite work out that way, considering she was an item with Alex at the time, who's house we stayed at, and he immidiately threw me into the Snicker-at-and-hate pile.

What really, truthfully finalized my decision before the last paragraph, though, was Alex himself. I didn't mind that he was generally an asshole; I thought it was kind of funny sometimes, but on one particular night, after a weekend in which I'd confronted a pair of kids for using my twin brother for his medication, Alex turned his antics not at me, but towards my brother. I wouldn't have minded so much had he cracked a joke on me, as unnecessary as it may have been, and he already did have a few coined phrases he liked to use for me (i.e. "Are you Logan's brother?"). But the fact that he was making fun of my twin brother, to ME of all people, was revolting, especially because he appeared to get along well with my brother after school, and would talk to him as a friend, and not as a target. This so inraged me that I've not talked to him sinse. A lie was made up to unsure that it was not my decision to never come back to his house, but that he had denied me access from coming over any longer. Soon enough people I didn't even know started hating me. Oh well.

High school drama should be made into a sport.

2006-01-05T01:27:00.000-06:00

Oh, These Hidden Stirs

Creep Creep Creepin' along.
Creep Creep Creepin' along.

I see it...
Don't believe...
We're sitting here
Suddenly.

Feel the heat.

Arise,
oh, fireflies!
Arise...

Sunrise
Burns through the skies!
Arise...

Question marks
In your eyes...

Suffice to say,
I've been blown away
You know what, that's OK
It's OK.
The prophacies...
Are showing lately!
But they aren't what they seem
Is it a dream?

Is it a dream?!?
Oh, a dream...
Can I be sitting here?
Wait, who's going to stear?
As we come clean and become clear.

The prophacies,
they mean shit to me!
But who's right?
Is everyone alright?

Because...you know...
And that's OK, I'm glad you do.
It's just that...
It's just that...

It's just that It's just that It's just that.

2006-01-05T00:43:00.000-06:00

SPPE LIEN NAGOL part DEUX

I hated Logan with a passion for the longest time. I trully came to know the meaning of hate, because I'd never hated anything more than him, so completely, and in such satisfaction and solace. I'm sure he hated me as well, in fact, I know he did, but I cannot imagine that his hatred was greater, or more rightfully desearved, than mine of him. It didn't help that he had also began dating the girl who he swore never to date, throwing away yet another friendship of mine, and smirking all the while. Indeed, she and I have not been friends since.

Over time, however, I came into the mindset that what better to feel than a complete nothing as appose to any sort of emotion, so that I am even less associated with him than I normally would be. This didn't last very long, however. I decided it would be fun to toy with him, so I got on my brother's screen name one night and gave him a shy and believeable hello. His responce was...mostly what I expected. That he missed Steve and I, that he was sorry for what he'd done, that he'd hated me but I had more right to hate him, and that he was the biggest asshole ever. Actually, I've the conversation saved on a disk, just in case I'm ever in the need of blackmail. (TOTALLY kidding here) He also said that he'd give anything to go back and make things right, and to make me not hurt anymore. So, after a few more conversation between "Stevo" and Logan, I decided to give him a few very hard levels of knowing me to beat, which have been listed on here before. He beat them, we met up and I treated him to lunch.

I had it in my mind to possibly use him and abuse him, but I was more interested in not having to deal with him anymore--I hoped that that would settle his conscience and he would finally leave me alone forever. Nope. We kept meeting up at different people's parties, having deep dsicussions of what was, what could have been, and our own independent lives in general. I felt that we had a strange sort of connection, one that's hard to find, because I felt and still feel that we know each other so completely, yet are so lost in that area at the same time.

Finally, the summer came, I graduated, and left for two months. I thought of him while I was in Bristol...I don't know why, but I did. I knew I never wanted to be with him, but something was pulling me...in August, I came back to Missouri. Some night I had a dream that Logan was parading me around on his shoulders amongst a crowd, and Lauren was in a corner with a scorned face. A week later I talked to him--turns out he'd broken up with her a week ago. Oh, I said. I didn't mention the dream. I'd asked a friend how they were doing, and she said fine at the time, but apparently that wasn't so.

I thought, for a while, that I'd give him my virginity. I mean, we'd sure grown a lot in the little time we'd known each other, and experienced so many different and new feelings and things together, that I thought I might as well. I was nearly posotive that he'd not given his own away, because he was so timid in that area when we were together, and in all the two years he was with the girl before me, they only kissed. He was all too ready for that, of course, but I learned by his slip of words and misunderstood messages that he had given his...to Lauren. How...blank, I felt. How meanningless. Call me an inconsiderate repatious snob, but in my opinion that relationship never meant anything, and he admitted that it ended up not meanning anything; that it became so pointless after that that a breakup was inevitable. I thought on it for a while more...but by that time I was already out of "the mood" and once again aloof on the subject of sex. Still, I feel rather robbed, as silly as it may seem.

Sitting here, thinking about it now, I will not give this last innocense I hold onto to Logan. I feel, I know, that he isn't worthy of it...there was only one person that was, I think, but I wasn't ready for it when I had my chance, and that's fine with me. I would have been a real wreck if I decided to go ahead and go for it. And I know that He made the right decision for himself, and hope it meant something to him, because I think it did.

Now, I feel, I am completely out of the Logan loop. No more do I think of what could have been, or how much I hate him, or how much I *want* him, or how he should feel about me. Once I wished him to never find happiness again...and now I hope he does. I hope, though, that he doesn't think that I am what he can fall back on whenever he doesn't succeed. I hope that he doesn't think I am his lost puppy, or that I want him in any way other than a friend. Lately I've been thinking about it, and he reminds me, more than ever, of my brother, the way he thinks and acts, and how "hopelessly romantic" he is and loves to be called. The way his mind works is just...funny, to me. Now, finally, after all of the pain, the loss, the complete turmoil and the reguvination of myself...I can finally think of him and smile.

PS- A lovely little note, one of many, circa April 17, 2004

Dear Logan,

Words cannot describe the emotional distress and turmoil I’ve been through these last few weeks. I’ve never been treated so ugly by someone so important in my life, ever. No, I’m not a saint, but you are, by far, not one either. I will refrain from name-calling, though God knows I’ve a book-full of things to call you, because I find it disrespectful, irrelevant, and immature. Looking back at how affectionate and loving you use to be, it’s hard to believe how brutish it seems you’ve become. I feel as though I don’t even know who you are anymore.

The strange thing is, this change didn’t occur slowly. The first time I ever saw it it was pertifying, but I thought surely it was a one time thing, considering it was when I broke up with you, for you. But it has lingered there ever since, always waiting for me to get too close to the chained dog, so it can push me into the dog’s dirt circle. I don’t know where the hell this rage came from, but surely it’s been there for years, due to the enormity of it’s size.

As you become more and more bold, you say more and more hurtful things to me. I don’t know if you’re just testing the water, or you take pleasure in my sensitivity, but either way it hurts. You try to threaten me by denying me services, or the "privilege" of talking to you. If talking to you meant hearing the things you say to me, I’d gladly sacrifice my speech. Whatever you dish out, if I even make a joke back in that same context, you take offense. It seems as though I barely say anything and you take for granted that I’m pissed.

I feel weakened. It must make you feel powerful to call me all of those things without me responding in the same manner. I can’t think of myself being so gutless and cowardly, yet I am. I’ve let you do all those things, so what more could I be than that? You’ve slowly been breaking down my character, and I bet you’re glad of it right now. I think, when it all comes down to it, I’d rather be slapped by your hand than your words. Actually, I’d look forward to it. You arise a feeling inside of me that wants to be destructive, but I‘ve done my best in keeping myself in check. I’ve cried, and for the first time in years I’ve said out loud that I hate something. Do you know what that something is?

You only tell me things I "want" to hear, when in reality, when I ask a question, it’s genuinely because I want to know the answer for what it is. You’ve even been "courageous" enough to "joke" about the way you feel with my very good friends. Would you be courageous enough to say it 2 inches away from my face? Surely you’ve never displayed this side of you to anyone else, or at least not outside of your household. If you do, hasn’t anyone warned you or pointed out your warped attitude? You’re the worst on the internet, when you’re most confident, because you don’t have to bear the look in my eyes or the sound of my voice. The way you behave can be described as nothing less than atrocious or devilish.

How is it possible that you’ve been so important to me, yet you’ve said and done the worst things directed towards me that I’ve ever witnessed? You’ve treated me like I’m a complete moron, when the fact is I knew exactly what was going on, but I chose to let the obvious go unsaid. You’ve made me insecure about myself by calling me a numerous amount of names and descriptions which I refuse to repeat. You’ve hurt me worse than anyone has ever hurt me, and you wouldn’t believe how deep that hurt goes. You couldn’t even fathom it if I told you.

I know this letter probably won’t get through to you, because it is written in first and second person, which is the least convincing writing format in a persuasive essay. However, if you displace yourself from this situation, or read these again in a few days or weeks, maybe you’ll better comprehend it. I have been left hopeless in the gutter, and I have only one hope left: that you never treat anyone else the way you’ve treated me. I feel that no one deserves to be exploited in such a way, and with luck you’ll never have to be in that position. I’m trying to be friends with you, but you still have hopes that are now barely fragments in a dream to me. With every situation, there’s something to be learned. I don’t know about you, but I know, somehow, I’ve learned a lot.

Empty promises. Hours of waiting. Toleration or degradation. And what was it all worth? Twenty bucks says you’ve smoked pot in the past 2 weeks.

Your parents must be proud. I know I am.

My Love

Rene Montague

2006-01-04T23:19:00.001-06:00

SPPE LIEN NAGOL part UN

A final post on the strangest of fixations I have yet known. A final one.

It's been a long road.

From the first time I saw him, all of those 3 years or so ago, I was enchanted. He had on the usual--black shirt and bluejeans, standing awkwardly on stage and reciting a few lines. I'm sure I'm not the only one, the first or last, to've felt this way about him; the shy, seemingly humble and kooky character known as Logan. True, he's still rather perplexing to me, but I think not in the way that he would wish it so.

We never talked, though--exchanged a polite hello here and there when we happened to be in the same premises, but never any conversation or catching of the eye, and so we went our own ways. A year or so after I initially "met" him (met as in knew of his existance) we became friends. We talked online, and he gave me rides to and from the fall play of my Junior year of high school. Soon enough we were putting our creative minds together, collaborating on what would be known as the failed project of Saving Constance. I began thinking of him as nothing more than a good friend and even brotherly--sure he was good looking, but I'd rather not interrupt the relationship he himself had going for him, much less our friendship. I also had romantic ambitions in another direction that I had hoped would work out, and inevitably did not.

Some time during the break of that winter (2003), Logan decided to call it quits on his dead-end, two year relationship with another girl of my year. My friends were anxious to know what I was going to do about it--they later told me that they'd thought I'd already had feelings for him just by how good of friends we were--constantly hanging out together, riding to all sorts of places and so forth. I said I didn't have any intentions to do anything about it; I myself was just getting out of what I considered a very heavily involved relationship, and wasn't sure of my feelings. For one, I knew it would look bad to get with him immidiately after his breakup with such a lovely, honorable girl. For another, I didn't want to use him in the heat of passion, pretending he was someone else and crushing him is he was interested in more. Also, I was made aware by a friend that another friend of mine, Lauren, had developed feelings for him on-stage, but anytime I insinuated things of it to her she'd deny it completely. I should mention that Lauren and I had started hanging out, and were developing a blooming friendship. I decided to give her some time with that, and space it out for at least a month, so that I could be true with what I wanted, make sure he knew what he wanted (instead of the both of us using each other as rebounds), and give the third party a chance as well.

As it turns out, things didn't happen quite that way. We ended up getting together on New Years, a little over a week after his initial break-up and just a few weeks after I cut off a low-key something-or-other with Aaron. Of course, being drunk off of our asses that night, we thought we were being sneaky, but by the time school was back in session everyone knew what was up. Betrayal, they whispered. Everyone had a different story, and everyone had a say about it. It was because of this that I chose not to accompany him to the Sweetheart dance which he so deperately wanted to attend, but I met him there anyways, and we made a night of it.

Besides all of the outer conflicts, things started out wonderfully. He seemed so genuine--telling me he'd always dreamed of us together, and how he remembered seeing me for the first time, and thinking how I was different from everyone else--special--and that he wanted us to last forever. The forever was very unsettling for me: he was making plans for us in our college years when I barely knew what was going to happen a week from now. Because I told him to stop planning so far ahead and focus on the now, he began to think I was less dedicated to "us" than he. In actuallity, he claimed to be into our relationship completely, but he would arrive hours late for our dates, or even completely forget about them, countless times, and act as though it were no big deal. Despite my pleas to him that this was not acceptable behavior, and that it was imparative that he go through with his words and be consistant in his efforts towards our relationship. I suppose he began making assumptions about me, because now that I was fully invested into letting us be official, and not caring what everyone else thought which had plagued me so earlier, he had another girl escort him publically on his Winter King nomination: Lauren.

Alright, I thought to myself, he already swore to me that he would never go out with her if we weren't to work out, so I don't have to worry about losing her friendship. Eventually, though, his carelessness of time value drew me so far up the wall that on the last night of our lovely relationship, after waiting on him for 6 hours and having only one hour left for the night, I called "us" off. Coincidentally, that was THE night, so long ago now. I was afraid he was going to cry; the poor fellow was distraught and had never seen it coming. I told him that he had done too little to prove he was sacrificing his all, as I had surely done with my reputation and friends, so be dedicated to our being together. I had waited on him so long, been patient for such a long time that I had no patients or time to wait left. I told him that he'd assumed too much and too little of me--he hadn't even asked me if I wanted to escort him, and I told him I would have been honored to do so. He said he thought I'd reject him again, so he didn't even try. If he didn't even try to make that effort, what effort was he going to try to make in our relationship? So, that was our first break up.

And sadly, nott our last.

Two days later I took him back, feeling weak and sorry for the poor fellow, who'd taken to writing my a lengthy love letter and a few burnt CDs. Wow. Big effort, but it wasn't nearly enough as it should have been. Not even in the same ballpark. As time progressed, our relationship became more and more of a rollarcoaster, and becomes a hazy blur now, in my memory, with the ferociousness of it all. He'd taken to "joking" with my friends about how terrible a person I was whenever they made silly remarks, which friends do, and honestly thought I'd never learn of it. He'd also taken to calling me names, such terrible, brutish names...and I was so weak I just let him do it, without raising a hand or furrowing a brow. Stupid whore. Fucking retarded bitch. Mind, we were in a relationship during all of this, on again and off again. One minute he'd tell me I was everything to him, and he didn't want anything else, and the next minute he never wanted to see me face again. We'd get into arguements about silly things. That isn't how the band name is pronounced. Let's take Short St instead of Perrine. Are you giving me a ride to school tomorrow? I began to think that maybe I deserved to be called those names. I began to feel that all of my friends were just pretending to be my allies, and that I was, well, honestly worthless. I wondered if anyone would notice if they never saw me again.

My friends began to wonder where I'd gone. I was there physically, but mentally I was far from it. No more was I cracking wise remarks, or bursting with laughter, or displaying a wild, bright smile. It felt as though my spirit had completely deserted me, or that it had never belonged to me anyways. Maybe this was all I truly was. In these days I felt crazy; truly mad. One minute I was sitting on the computer, and the next I was running down the street as fast as I could, tears blurring my vision, and I didn't care. Anything to get away from this hatred. Anything to get away from this Hell that I was in.

Finally, one day, on the brink of a countless internet battle (which was always one sided), I fought back. Typing the same gibbirish that had been thrown at me for so long, I felt like a complete imbusil, yet at the same time.....free. Renewed. Uplifted. Free.

That was May of 2004. He tried to get in touch with me a few times later that year, saying how incredibly sorry he was, an how he wanted our friendship renewed, but I'd just reply to him with a copy of our last conversaion, and he'd retort with his same old material. As...juvenile as the our conversation had been, I was proud of myself for having stuck up to him, and getting out of our relationship alive, and I truly mean that. My friends were glad to have me back, after such a psychological hiatus, and recieved me with open arms. I learned that the whole time I did indeed have support, all around, but my perception had been so clouded with Logan's verbal abuse that I had been completely unaware. No, it was not an imidiate change. It took me a long time to recooperate from such an extreme situation. In fact, nearly a year. But I did it. No, I was never the same again. I've since learned that sometimes you can't go back to the way things were before--you just have to move on and look towards the future, because too much has happened to even think about going back.

2006-01-04T02:15:00.000-06:00

Asleep in the Passenger Seat

Purple hearts fly across the screen
Of a yellow coated envy, and low self-esteem
A pink flash dance that you can't reject,
Yet you can't imbrace it and can't respect
Motion all in a fuzzy green haze
Blue tinted feelings that can't be erased

Call it a fever, in the flask of my brain
I curl up inside and blow it away
My breathe is chill and it whirls all around
Get's lost in the blackness, then it stumbles down
To the small of my back, where we lie in twos
I coat you in purples, you coat me in blue

Kim is really giving me a migrane with this over-kill of Camera Obscura. One can only take so much.

2005-12-20T14:49:00.000-06:00

I Need To Breath

Take me back to my home
I wanna go back to where the people aren't so alone.

Take me back to my family
I wanna go back now--I wanna live wanna love wanna see.

Oh Lord, this trail goes on so long
I keep on lookin' up, keep on singin' your song
Lord have mercy, have mercy on me
I try so hard, but now I really want to be free.

My God is good to every single thing.
But right now, oh Lord, all I really need
Is to be able to breath
To be able to breath

And I hear the footsteps of the past
Warning me that I can't go back
And I hear the people all around
Tryin' so damn hard...so damn hard...
To not make that sound

And they laugh and they laugh and it's OK
But inside I know that it's decay
From the over-exposure of this place
And they laugh and they laugh and it's OK
And right now, oh Lord, all I really need is to breath.

2005-12-10T11:43:00.000-06:00

Dream Index Log Number 2

Drempt, last night, that I was in DC again, and I was so happy to be away from Missouri. My mum tried to convince me to come back, but I was so happy to be back in the place I love. Connie tried to hang out with me, but I wasn't down with that. I think Justin came with me as well, and either his mum or Logan's mum got pissed that we were sleeping on the same blowup mattress. Oh well.

2005-12-01T17:29:00.000-06:00

Dream Index Log 1

I drempt this afternoon that I was in my room, that is, what was my room in the dream. The sheets on my bed had a royal French pattern in gold, with a complete fill of red. There were stairs decending into the rest of what was the house to the immidiate right of my door, on the outer side from my room. My room was white, like the rets of the house and the carpet.

This dream was lucid, but for some reason I wanted to change my sex. It was a difficult thing to do when I tried to make it immidiate, that is, change completely with full size. I had small success however, no pun intended, if I slowly morphed it starting with my own...what have you, and transforming it slowly into the other. I never quite completed it all, though.

After that stopped amuzing me, or maybe during, and African American family of three came into my room. Two pleasantly plump women, and an older man with a mistache, though not quite any white in his hair. He asked me a question, but my nose was extremely clogged, so it took me a while to respond, as I did not think about breathing out of my mouth, or maybe I did and it was still hard to get air. My nose was painfully clogged.

When I woke up, I was flat faced to my mattress. My nose, having been squashed, hurt for a few more minutes, even when I rubbed it a little here and there to "get out the kinks." I suppose I could not breath, and if I hadn't woken up, perhaps I would have suffocated myself. Interesting.

2005-11-20T23:48:00.000-06:00

BLUE

You give your love and friendship unconditionaly. You enjoy long, thoughtful conversations rich in philosophy and spirituality. You are very loyal and intuitive.

Find out your color at Quiz Me!

Welp, I would post my dreams....if I could remember the damned things. Believe me, I'm trying.

2005-11-13T14:48:00.000-06:00

DEAR GRANDMA
This letter is in regards to the way you talk down about my father, Alex Artiburn. If I do not convince you to discontinue demeaning his character in this letter, then I'm not sure what will, and I'm not sure what messures to take to do so. Please regard these words solidly, because this is not something to be taken lightly.
Firstly, you are always making remarks, even throwing out guesses, about the manner in which he lives, his income, the place he calls home...well, let me enlighten you a bit. Pearl Eades, dad's grandmother, lived to be 76. Most all of her life, in fact all of her married life, was spent in a house made by dad's grandpa. This house in known as "the house down the hill," which Ricky Artiburn, dad's brother, later inherited, and which is currently uninhabited given the weight of two very important and beloved people who died there. Around 1947, dad's grandfather bought a little more land surrounding his abode, and he himself built two more houses on the property--one which later burnt down and one which still stands today. That house is 817 Leona St. He may have even built more on Leona street, as there use to be 3 more houses then there are now on the block, but they were taken down and forever buried in the woods after a new owner came into town. You care very much about the items your parents left behind, and their parents, and so forth, just as dad cares about the land that he knows so fondly as home; where the soil was broken up every year for Pearl's beloved gardens, where he use to ride ponies, and where he has many fond memories of family, friends, and growing up. Much of his childhood memories and would-be tokens of keepsake were lost in the fire of the house he lived in as a boy, and so this is what he has to call his own, his inheritance.
Is my father not dignified enough for you? I shall share a bit of his history with you, maybe even perhaps sway your own dead-set opinions for a moment. Jeffery Alexander Artiburn was born in 1960, the youngest after two other siblings, to a couple rich in patriotism and southern heritage. His father served the country for a few years, and later became an automechanic. Tragedy struck, however, when my dad was only eight years old: his father died. It hit his mother the hardest, and she later moved away, leaving he and his siblings to be raised by their grandmother, Pearl Eades. Hard as it was, he and the rest of the family continued to press on--little Alex attended Fairmount, then Vance, all the way to Tennessee High, where he ended his education short of graduation. Frustration had gotten the better of him, after failing twice, and he recieved his GED while his peers recieved their diplomas.
Dad once told me, after I'd said one of the most foolish things in my life, that he'd only wanted to give me something he didn't get the chance to have; something my brother and I would have never gotten the chance to have: a father. And what is so wrong with that? My dad was barely 28, maybe even 27, when he met my brother and I; he had his whole future ahead of him. Why did he choose to stay, why? I could care less as to what the answer is, I'm just glad he did, and I'm proud to call him my dad, my father.
Imagine, for a moment, that people judge people not by what they wear, not by their profession, not by where they live or what they have to eat on Friday nights, but by who they are. My dad is a wonderful person, and it's a shame you won't open up your mind to that. He's never done anything wrong to you; never once called you names or judged you by the way you kept your house (do you remember setting the stove on fire twice) or by who you associate with, or any of that. Is it because you think he should have made Stevie come back up here? I'll fill you in on something: he tried, and he tried very hard, even swayed Stevie once or twice. The truth is he could not, because it was not the right thing to do, just as it wouldn't have been the right thing to do to tell him to come down there to live, which he did not do. The right thing was for Stevie to make his own decision, and he did. Technically, Stevie was/is an adult and is pretty well free to do as he chooses, as long as it's legal.
I only wish you could be happy for the both of them, not sad or angry because you don't have him here for yourself. You know why I'm happy about it? Because I can wake up every morning and know that they're keeping each other alive, and among other things, they've got each other, father and son, and I think that's a precious thing to hold on to, don't you? So the next time you start talking about my father as if he's the dirt underneath your shoe, think twice about what he means to us, Stevie and I, and think how much less we'd have in the world if we didn't have him. As hard as it will be for you to believe, grandma, meaning goes far beyond the material world.

2005-11-11T14:51:00.000-06:00

LIFE: WHAT IS IT, ANYWAYS?

I had a strange dream about my brother. It wasn't necessarily about him, but...well, it was a strange dream. I can't remember details, so I think I'm going to start making a dream log on here. That should at least get me updating more...blah. Anyways, my brother, in the dream, had a young girlfriend he'd only known for two months, and they were already intimate. This repulsed me and pissed me off, because of how innocent minded my dear brother is. I kind of felt that this girl was no good, and that she was just using him. Also, I was jealous of her--this young vixon pretending to be all grown up, and even being that way got to see my brother everyday, and it felt like she almost knew him better than I, and I was very hostile towards the thought of them together. Nonetheless, I was happy that my brother had found happiness. Odd that I can recall all of these emotions. I also drempt of gummie snack honeycones that tasted like shit. And that my a hundred billion year old childhood neighbor was having all of her family over, and still had her little doggy (which died when I was really young, perhaps 7, but she still has the dog house in the backyard.)

THe other day I met a rather creepy guy over at the seminary across the street, whilst I was eating my lunch in the garden area, where I was sad to find they'd taken down the water display for the year. Anyways, I saw this guy again the next day, and he asked me if he'd seen me before, to which I replied yes, and he came back with "Sorry, I have ADHD and I forget." OK, what kind of an "excuse" is that? It's not like I needed an excuse from him anyways, but he so did not have to sum it up with the fact that he has ADHD, because that's kind of rediculous and pleading for attention. Listen, whoever the hell you are, my brother has ADHD, and I probably have ADD, so I don't really give a shit about that, OR if you remember meeting me. In fact, I'd rather you don't remember me, capice? /stereotypical blog

I'm so happy that my brother is happy. It's very uplifting, and I guess that's one of the ways to tell if you love someone or not--it makes you happy that they're happy. And when they're sad, it makes you kind of sad. I'm happy that Aaron's happy too, and I'm sad that Kim's sad, but I hope she gets better. It'll take a while for that, I think, I just hope she can get through it, and be strong, and that it doesn't overwhelm her for too long of a time.

Am I an adult? I certainly am by definition: I'm 18+, live in my own apartment with a roomate, am in charge of my own place and getting my own food...but I don't feel like it. Why? Because my mother calls up every other day complaining about my financial problems (she takes it apon herself to read my mail, mind), and because I don't have a job, and because I have to eat gormet cafeteria food every day. Phew. Thank God I'm moving to Australia.

2005-10-30T22:50:00.000-06:00

DUDES...I THINK I JUST HAD AN OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE

So, tonight I went to bed a bit early, because after a long night of mucho fun on this Halloween weekend, I was tired as hell. It was easy for me to fall asleep, apparently, but when I opened my eyes again there was a figure standing in my room, at my bedside....OK, I thought to myself, who the hell is this? I'm still laying in bed, mind, so I'm not sure if I want to move or not, and after asking this person to unveil themselves he/she has not, and thus I begin to ponder. Is this a dream? It couldn't possibly be, right now feels SO real. So I try changing my bedroom attire--that doesn't work. Then I try changing to figure's face from beneath the shadowy veil, and it stirs a bit. Well, that could have been me, or they could have shifted a little, I thought. Then I attempted one last measure: I remembered reading about how sometimes in lucid dreaming you can actually step out of your body, so I figured I'd give it a go. Instead of the usual float above your body, I was just going to attempt to sit up. If everything was normal, then dammit who the fuck is standing in my room. But if not...well, I wouldn't know, because I've never tried it. Only one way to find out, so I thrust my legs over the side of the bed and sat up quick...

...to feel partially removed from myself. My response: Whoooaa. However, I was hesitant, and so still sort of connected with my physical body. The way to describe the sensations I felt at this moment would be....sort of weightless, but not like outer-space-I-can-float weightless, just like I weighed a lot less and didn't feel so much bulk or pull to the Earth. Also, and most prodominately, the funny feeling when parts of your body fall asleep...I felt that in all of the places that my self was NOT connected to my body, and so I had this strange sensation not in the form I was conscience in, but in the body of myself still lying on the bed. Nuts.

Having achieved this, whatever it may be, I could finally switch around the face a bit, so I did a couple of faces, but it was still hard to change the expressions and elaborate in much detail--I think this is because I have not drempt lucidly in a long while; at least a month or more. I took myself somewhere for a bit, but alas, I was pulled back into the waking world maybe a minute or two into my realization. This was odd for me as well, because I still was not sure whether I was awake or dreaming. I checked my watch a few times, and tried to change the time, but that did not work, and thus I was truly awake. However, one strange thing still lingered--my body had the tingly sensation that happens when a limb "falls asleep," but it was all over....Wow, I guess it really happened, I lied thinking for a while. I tried to get back into dreamland, but it's been an hour since. I've kind of been paranoid, because I'm not sure if I'm dreaming or not, thus I'm not sure if there's something in my room and that's a little frightening. This, however, is nothing to worry about--for in my mind I could control that anyways, but it's all a matter of how much selfdoubt or selfconfidence I have. I'm probably leaning more towards self-doubt these days, so I guess I'll have to work on that.

And that, my friends, is the end of my story. All in all, a truly bogus experience, but I hope it to not be the last. I would like to explore these happennings at further length, and see if I can break through the bariers of reality, which I feel are quite thin.

2005-10-26T20:33:00.000-05:00

TRAPPED IN SHOES I DON'T WANT TO WEAR

I don't want to go to school here anymore. The problem is, I can't very well get our of it...I mean, at least until May, which really sucks ass. I was thinking I could stick it out until then, but ignorance is bliss, and something I don't have, thus my grievance over this big damned waste of time. I really need a car, but I don't have money for one. If I had a job, I could have money, but I need a car for a job, and I need money to get a car. FUCK.

I really think my professers should start wearing clown suits or something. Then maybe I'll be better able to pay attention to them. I need to buy some stackers.

I'm looking all over this school page for advice, but all they have is this posotive stuff--no helpful place on if you want to drop. I need to get my shit together. I mean, mentally, and the literal shit that's devistating the floor of my room. Clothes/junk everywhere...what a mess. Truly a disappointment...I wish I'd not left Bristol this summer. But there's a reason for everything, I suppose...

If I can get out of school at the end of this semester, I'll be able to save money and earn money towards my move to Australia. I'm looking at a few school options out there, and the more I do the more I want to end right now so I can start sooner there. Why in the WORLD are our programs here 4 years long, and there's are even half of that? Highschool should end sooner, and college should be shortenned. This is utter bullshit. Lord, help me.

2005-10-13T15:27:00.000-05:00

The Nymph
Deliberate Brutal Sex Dreamer (DBSDf)

Sly. Sensual. Guarded. Different somehow. You are The Nymph.

It appears like you're looking for a fling or a casual sexual relationship, but it's not that simple. You're a hungry but also very careful person, and this generates a certain amount of sexual tension within you and in your relationships. In other aspects of life, you get what you want. In relationships, that's not always the case.

It's possible you intimidate potential lovers. Most likely, though, you're a little closed off--therefore mysterious--and, naturally, people find that difficult to get with. Maybe it's just part of your selection

Your exact opposite:
The Peach

Random Gentle Love Master

process, though. You've been in enough relationships to know to expose yourself slowly.

When you do feel comfortable with someone, though, your torrid sexual appetite will make him very happy. Your cautious nature is also a big asset in a long-term relationship. It might take longer for love to establish itself, but when it does, it's all the stronger.

ALWAYS AVOID: The False Messiah

CONSIDER: The Playboy

Wow. Did NOT know that. Hah.

Your Birthdate: December 16

Your birth on the 16th day of the month gives a sense of loneliness and generally the desire to work alone.
You are relatively inflexible, and insist on your being independent.
You need a good deal of time to rest and to meditate.

You are introspective and a little stubborn.
Because of this, it may not be easy for you to maintain permanent relationships, but you probably will as you are very much into home and family.
This birth day inclines to interests in the technical, the scientific, and to the religious or the unknown realm of spiritual explorations.

The date gives you a tendency to seek unusual approaches and makes your style seem a little different and unique to those around you.
Your intuition is aided by the day of your birth, but most of your actions are bedded in logic, responsibility, and the rational approach.
You may be emotional, but have a hard time expressing these emotions.
Because of this, there may be some difficulty in giving or receiving affection.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Damn, Gina. That's a bit harsh. True, but harsh.

2005-10-13T14:03:00.000-05:00

Train. Tracks.

I'll find my redemption
On those tracks.
On those tracks to Hell.
I'll find my redemption
I swear I will.

Train tracks make print across my mind
They're sublime.
I wonder if I was born with this
What is it?

Got a biological homing device
It calls me to those tracks of mine
So endless, so defined.
I wanna follow that trail
I want it to tell me the story
That is never did tell.

I can see it so clearly now
It taunts my lack of movement; my personal stalemate
But one day I'll follow it
Free myself from all of these bondages, these chains.

2005-10-06T22:26:00.000-05:00

WHY THE FUCK DOES EVERY GIRL IN MY APARTMENT COMPLEX DECIDE TO CRY OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOW?

And...when will my roomate stop that damned ear-raking pop-kissing isht with her boyfriend? Her boyfriend, who is NOT her fiancee? WHEN, I ask?

Logan. Logan? Logan...will that kid ever learn time management? Willy? God, I shall pray for it. I just got done reading some lovely previous posts involving him...good times...excuse my while I dry heave.

...to bad this thing doesn't have emoticons. Then again, it's a good thing those things aren't polluting the ENTIRE world wide web.

2005-10-02T11:29:00.000-05:00

Blowing Me One Way

Way down south,
Where even peaches don't grow,
There's no thing as an Eskimo
They only exist...
In coloring books.

Take a stand
Why don't you take my hand
And walk on down to No Man's Land
It only exists..
In magazines.

Yeah, maybe Papa don't preach,
But the good Lord sings
I'm gonna pack my bags but not take my things
'Cause I don't need...
Anything.

My life in Suede
It doesn't feel the same
As it did when I was, maybe, 17
'Cause I don't need...
A damn thing.

Take your time
Enjoy the ride.
Look around,
And make your own strides.

Voices calling
Heritage longing
Footprints falling
Soft wind blowing.

2005-10-01T21:43:00.000-05:00

I think I finally understand what it is to be Southern.

I just got done watching Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus, a film directed and photographed by Andrew Douglas. Though it was under the context of a documentary, the way it was layed out, the cinematography, and the music used made it feel nearly like a movie all in it's own. I liked it--I don't think I can quite discribe it to it's true perfection, though. The soundtrack even included a new song by Cat Power, which was neato, and I really enjoyed the old caress of mountain music.

It's so true: you never really appreciate it when most of your young life is spent within Southern bonds--generations apon generations living in the same place feels like a bearier that needs breaking. It isn't until you are free of it that you appreciate your heritage for what it's worth. I know what it is to be Southern. Look beyond the accents, the funny faces, the out-of-date clothing and hair. There's passion, a lack of concern about what the rest of the world thinks about how you live. There's never-ending love and devotion--a unique religious connection that has adapted a life of it's own to the needs of those who feel like nothing's ever happened, and nothing ever will.

I've decided that water and music are holy elements. No, this isn't an original thought, but they are present within nearly ever religion, and surely within all of the main ones. I don't like country music, but I've grown to appreciate the roots in my blood that are connected to the distant stream of mountain music, that once, and still does in some areas, flowed throughout the Appalachians.

Music and water...I've got to think on this further....

2005-09-25T16:22:00.000-05:00

2005-09-21T14:07:00.000-05:00

I'm finding this whole post-secondary educational ordeal rather drear, a waste of life, even. I need ome major motivation from somewhere other than high people in high places to get me through these years. Honestly, I don't think that's possible--I think it will have to be something I desire within, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to go next year...but who knows. Maybe, if I can get my car over the summer, things would be a little more realistic with time management and work and such...but then again gas will at LEAST be $3 a gallon by then...I've got to open myself up more to those damned bus routes.

...I just want to live, what is so wrong with that? Years of hard work in highschool, and so much pressure and stress, only to take out some $8000 in loans for an education I could provide for myself on my own time. By the way, that loan money does not include the other $20,000 I managed to obtain for myself in financial aide...this just seems like a waste of time.

I feel stagnant, and way to close to my mother, even though she's an hour and a half away. What does she expect from me, what does she want? I could give a shit, but it is quite perplexing, she thinking I owe her my soul for "all she's done for me." Hell, anything she's ever done for me has already been cancelled out twice over for the things she has said and done to me. Fuck her. All I am to her is a plaque of recognition for her charitable contribution in this world. She can fool everyone with her plastic smiles and "humor" that she pulls out only when my friends happen to be around, but she sure as hell doesn't fool me. Oh, we have neighbors do we? Oh, you want me to come back inside so you can continue to hit me, and swear at me, and tell me you wish I were never born, among other things? Well fuck that, and fuck you. You aren't going to get any sympathy from me when you cry and tell me you think I hate you and you think I wish you were dead. I'm sick of telling you that's not true when it doesn't have any affect, I'm sick of the way you've treated my brother and I, and your selfrighteous attitude after he left, when you were crying for him to come back when we were both away. Most of all, I'm sick of you. You can have whatever you want, but get the hell out of my life.

Steve is the lucky one. He lives with dad, who's a real person, an honorable person. Dad would never ever say the things mum said to him, or demean his character, or hit him, or brag to other people about taking care of kids that he isn't the true father of. But he is, he is.

2005-09-20T04:50:00.000-05:00

Passing Time With a Dime

I wrote a letter to myself
But it's too obscure to read
I put your picture on a shelf
But it's kind of hard to see

I left a note at the bar
But you didn't take it with you
I judged myself a little hard
So I have nothing to hang on to

I stared through the window
And watched a car go by
I kept asking myself questions
Over that long period of time

Different people, different places
But the feelings are the same
Now I wonder, even faintly
Will they always be this way?

2005-09-17T01:04:00.000-05:00

EXACTLY

2005-09-16T04:18:00.000-05:00

Hilton Hacker Jailed
The teenager who hacked into Paris Hilton's mobile phone and published its contents on the internet earlier this year has been sentenced to 11 months in a juvenile correctional facility. The accused was a 17-year-old boy from Massachusetts, according to a Washington Post report on Wednesday, but prosecutors refuse to reveal his identity because he is a juvenile under federal law. Prosecutors did confirm that the boy pleaded guilty to nine counts of juvenile delinquency - including hacking, theft of personal information and making bomb threats to high schools - in Boston's US District Court last week. During his incarceration and for a further two years after his release, the unnamed boy is prohibited from using computers, mobile phones or any other technologies capable of connecting to the internet.

Hehehahaa...damn, brutha. That was funny stuff, too.

2005-09-15T11:57:00.000-05:00

My Body Talks

My body speaks,
It screams at me,
telling me to do
all sorts of things.
Pretty things,
not ugly, it'd seem,
but I can't sit with it
all the same.

Yeh, it convinces me
Once and a while,
Yet I hold strong
In physical denial.
But I'm open for
A body to talk,
To go back to being
Something natural and wild

Does your body talk?
Does it tell you things
About mine? Are they sweet?
Can it feel the beat
In passion's heat
Can it pulsate with life
And you never feel a thing?

I have a heart
Somewhere in my body
But my body, it screams
To drowned out that little sound
The only thing
That doesn't scream aloud.

2005-09-11T17:15:00.000-05:00

A LARGE SIGH FOR MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS

Do they remember? Will they remember--two days from now--even? I wrote it in Sharpie on my arm: I REMEMBER YOU 9/11.

It was all just I I had expected on my way to the cafe. Kids walking up in groups to have lunch, like the way women always need a few more to help them with the strenuous task of going to the bathroom. Like children, back in the years of gradeschool, all grouping together so they won't have to eat alone in the dreaded lunchroom. Me, I could give a shit--I most always eat alone. I'd probably enjoy my food better anyhow, not having to listen to someone yack loudly as food spills from there mouth. As they all fall victim to the governments plan of easing our people back into the line, wrapping chocalates for $1 an hour. Did any of them remember? I doubt it. I wanted to ask the server "Do you remember?" But who am I to play big bad wolf on her pleasent Sunday at work. Surely if she did remember she wouldn't have had such a booming smile--that that everyone had. I ask you, a moment of silence, please, for our people, please!? I was tempted to scream "REMEMBER, DAMN IT!" Instead I hustled out the door with my head down. This is my display to let you know that I remember, even if you plain American swines don't. I remember, and who am I, anyways? Knowing who I am matters even less next to the fact that I am one of the few, here out in the distance, who remembers. That's the way it feels, at least...

So the best I can do, it appears, is to write this statement that I so want to cry out onto my skin, where it will remain for days to come, and during my classes, maybe it will spark some recognition, and maybe not. But I remember you, I swear it I do, and I will-not-forget.

(Here is a poem I wrote some time ago that I thought accurate for the occasion. I will leave it open to interpretation. [Neat, I rhymed...])

My Psychic Side-Kick

imagine, imagineer
dream my life away
piece all the little pixels in the puzzle
as tessilations in a geometric game
it's a guise to hide what will arise
on that second independence day
when women and children
fall victim to the Villian
and everything is emursed in ashen gray

dream, little dreamer
tell me the story mommy said was a lie
whatever happened to that guy?
feel the sparks in your brain connect
you've yet too much truth in you to reject
much more truth than any can fathom:
it's a guise to hide what will arise
when you take a stand on that day
when you show your people the way
when they finally see you are more than a child,
more than just wild--you are TRUTH
and to think, they thought you the uncouth...

wake up, sleepy thinker
for your day draws near
when all of the allusions will finally be clear
the rain will pass; green will be the grass
'Twas a guise to hide that which has still yet to arise...

2005-09-10T16:21:00.000-05:00

I LOVE MY FUCKING RULERS

Will they remember
These tattered faces?
This demonstration
Of the Legislation?

I can, recall well
It makes my heart swell
And they say "Oh, do tell!"
Makes for a great reality show,
No?

Cries and screams
From thousands of human beings,
Fleeing for their lives
While the media thrives

Some people, they walked brieskly,
Business men who later met Death;
Brave throwing themselves headfirst
Into the fiery furnace of Hell

Smite me, you governs,
You Protestant conundrums!
Foul mouthed wretches!
Towards power, you're beckoned..

And claim, as it were
"Lost, but Not Forgotten"
As you just so stelthly
Close up the memories into your pocket

I REFUSE to be redefined
By your wishful-thinking minds!
You may possess allure to the gold ones
But you are NOTHING anymore, to my eyes.

W
E

R
M
E
M
B
E
R

Y
O
U

EXPOSURE: This is written in regards to 9/11, as it is ever approaching. It isn't so much a retelling or anything sentimental as it is a demand for everyone everywhere to remember it. I demand it be remembered. I've been feeling lately that, though the government advirtises here and there that "We Remember" message and so forth...they are trying to make us forget. They hold no ceremony this year...though there are locally advertized things in the more urban areas, so as not to call a complete uprising. This war we are in now--it's shit, it and the people we are fighting against have NOTHING to do with anything involving 9/11, and I am pissed that people would even think in those regards. We've still yet to find Osama Bin Laden, and I'm not sure that Bush gives a shit, as long as he can try taking over a few more countries and profit on some oil. Anyways, back to the poem...yeah, this is basically me lashing out at the government and their sneaky ways of devirting our attention so they can keep moving up the scale...and I don't think many Americans see it, but it's happenning. Keep aware--they're out there. Hehehehe

2005-09-06T22:20:00.000-05:00

I Ride the Galaxy

Gravitation takes place as we elivate with ease
We form circles in the dark, of our own complexities

Triste and trist, it never ends,
Words are conclusions, withstanding myths

But the center of the pavement
Is one that's hard to commit

We see cycles no one rides, creeping ponies where people hide
And all we're really aching to do is live out the night.

EXPOSURE:...Not sure, just wrote it. I guess parallel thinking between people, and how invasive/comforting/aware it is.

2005-09-04T11:01:00.000-05:00

(This is a poem of a song from a notebook from a time I was in Australia, from a time I knew well the word "happiness." I do not remember the title.)

Let me die here
Let me die here
Shadows follow me home...
Alone...
Crumble into the sand
Eating away at this land
And let me die here

Stumble...out...alone
Is any-body...going to watch...me go?
Let these rocky high tides float by
And let me die here

Smell the earth
The earth is clean again
Here the birds, calling
Saying come home
Let me die here

This sand
Is melting in my hands
Slow down
One again with the grownd

Sing out
Sing out sing out sing out
Sing out sing out-

Sing out.

...and with that, I think I'm going to put a bit of explanation into my work now, since I've been recognizing more visitors than usual lately. Ummmm, yeah. At a glance, this song would-poem, yes, poem would seem dreer and...lost I suppose? Actually, though it is ment for a sort of darker, minor note, it's a writing of sanctuary--finally finding a place you know to call home, and feeling so very alive and happy and content in that, that you couldn't imagine yourself anywhere else. For me, this I suppose was based around the sandstone in Australia, that is, the references to sand and tide and what have you. I kind of felt like I stumbled out of nothingness and into such a bright and beautiful place that maybe I truly had never known what life was. Argh, this is getting unintensionally deep, but maybe it has helped the viewer understand...no one has to read this...I feeling sort of...meow?

2005-09-03T22:25:00.000-05:00

Patriotic Patriarch

My world has been hurtled
Across this maze of nothing
And the people at the bottum,
They're all crying up for something
They need food and water
Someone to help them out
They need a hand to pull them up
From this huge, flooded draught

My people, my blood, my America--where are you?
What happened to your ideal society?
Why are your children killing and looting
When you're so yet rich and so fiery?

What will fill this viod of a gap
That has formed within my heart
The heart of the nation, what's it's true reputation?
I feel as if we're all tearing apart
Unity once was a tough thing to find
We were successful, all combined
And now, it seems, reversing this revere
That is now nothing more than a dream...

And dreams, well, they're mysterious things...

2005-09-01T17:56:00.000-05:00

Son of America

Systematic whine of irrigation
Isn't it such an irritation?
All units, report to your stations
We're about to bomb-drop this nation

Cataclizmic calamities
Happenning throughout this country daily
Make a joke; I'm broke as one
This society isn't all it's cut out to be, son

You'll never experience
This so called government
This heirarchy of hypocrites
This Christ born nation of immigrants
Soon it'll have it's own emigrants
Let's hope the bush catches fire quick
Least our people suffer more from this-

PIECE OF PEACE OF SHIT.

2005-08-27T20:40:00.000-05:00

I Am Not of Prophet

I'm a living thing
It's a miracle
I can talk, I can walk
Alas, I cannot touch the sky
It's always been a dream of mine

Feel the dream
Attempt to make it complete
But they never make sense
No matter how you try to puzzle it out
There isn't an answer, it's just...

Just... a dream...
A dream... reality...
Let us cup our hand beneath the fountain
We like to call Life
Spill over us, God, give us breath to breathe

Elixer, wherever you are
Come follow me

2005-08-26T22:15:00.000-05:00

YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT (EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW IT, BABY)

I don't know what I want.

Half the time I think I do, then the other half of the time I spend analyzing whether that is what I really want. Um, I have no fucking clue waht I'm talking about, to pardon my French, after all, I am a Frenchie.

I thought earlier that Logan and I were on the same level, that we had some kind of deep understanding that we both only half admit to, but now I think it's wavered. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I wish I did. It seems ever since he told me about his splitting up with Lauren (Yes, there is a God) he's been acting pretty childish, and truthfully sort of repulsive, in that weird guyesque manner (come on, we can all testify guys tend too talk about nasty isht). This could quite potentially be him trying to push me away from something that I don't want, that maybe he thinks I do. Indeed, it has played in my mind for quite a while now, but probably not in the way in which he would interpret it, or maybe, I don't know. I was thinking for a while that is had to be sort of inevitable for us to end up back together, hopefully not under official terms, but in an under-the-covers-I-know-everything-about you sort of way.

And now...I dunno, we've both taken a few steps back. Maybe it's the whole moving thing that has jumbled things, but not for me. I don't know that I don't know that I don't know what I want. What do I want? Let me think...

I want love
I want to be in shape
I want money
I want to make some new friends
I want to step up
I want to live my dreams now

Ummm...I'm kind of comfused right now...leave a message at the tone.

2005-08-23T17:32:00.000-05:00

JANE LIKES DICK, BUT DICK LIKES JOHNNY

College -- Collage
Splendid
Splendid
This is what you hear
They forgot to steer
It's in your direction
Your directions

Feel it
Conciel it
Go and hide those feelings
Underneath your bed
Cryptnite
Goodnight
Converse, regress
Now you get dressed

Harpy-ness, Harpy-esque
Harpo's got that knife again
It's sharp, y'know
He lugs it in his fro
Came a crain one day
Wasn't too far away, actually
From the way I feel right now

Lungue luggage
To many people have that
Time to stop
The crops are gonna drop
Hate contains
The right to feel the same thing.

2005-08-20T20:21:00.000-05:00

BEEEEEEEEP SAID THE PHONE LINE

Step out of myself
I am a kite
I can fly right by
And diagnal
Of your emotional tower

You seem so soft
So genuine, then you criss cross
It's only a thought
All to do is imagine it
And figure it out
Then you get lost

Hold on
Here is the tail, of my kite
Just Hold on
Wait for the climactic state
The clouds clear
And we reverberate

Can you see it from here?
I can, I know what I want
It's there, waiting for everyone
Can you see it? Are you scarred?

Are you there?

2005-07-26T14:47:00.000-05:00

DOES ANYONE HAPPEN TO NOTICE THAT I'VE 115 POSTS ON THIS THING?

Returned from Hiatus.

After many trials and tribulations, I've finally succeeded in becoming another statistic. That's right, I've made it into college, and a private, re-nowned one at that. What does that mean? Why only that I've had to search and grovile about for tons of financial aide, silly. At this point, my only real dilemma is figuring out how to pay my $650 a month rent... hopefully this last scholarship I applied for will minimize that to about $100-200, then maybe I won't be having such a problem...

Moving on to my usual crypticisms... life...is....pletifully dull. At the moment, that is. I am...not lonely, rather, longing for person to person contact which I do not have readily at my fingertips. Gas prices are giving me a decidedly negative perspective of todays government, and it brings me down in moods, that is, gas prices. Please, I know we're a high-speed society, but does the government even care that we're currently robbing ourselves out of our minds? I wish a respectful sum of people would so some sit down protests at gas stations across the US...maybe I should organize it myself, via internet.

It's amazing that such a thing could make me so incredibly sad, though. However, at the rate gas prices are going, I can see it getting up to $3 a gallon within a year... and I don't think I'm willing to pay that much on a regular bases for something that was 99 cents 5 years ago. If it were something like a household item, such as a toaster, I wouldn't mind so much, but gas is an ongoing thing one must have for personal vehicular transportation. This limits me greatly: I will have to live in a metropolis, at that, one which provides public transportation, and I will definantly have to utilize my time wisely, because walking just a mile takes about 20 minutes.

Then again, I will of course have a bicycle, but when it comes to, say, and interview, that wouldn't be an option: my hair would be crazy in no time, and I would be perspiring like a mother. Hmmm...I think I'm going to have to do some research on electric vehicles...

Ciao.

2005-05-06T19:18:00.000-05:00

SCAVAGING THE REMAINS OF THE DEAD BODY OF THE LIFE I NEVER HAD

(I already know my own history, so I'm not filling this in with a replay)

It's always been like this. One minute it's all blooming roses, and the rest of the hour it's the scorching sun. You need the sun to live; it's where everything in the world gets it's energy: the main source. It provides. Hell, for a long time it was the Mayan god. But you know what? Hard to believe, but if you're out in it too much, you can get a sunburn, which can lead to a really bad sunburn, which can lead to blisters, which can lead to sun poisoning and infection, and eventually cancer, and if you get enough of it, death. If you happen to be a vampire, it's instant death. Luckily not many people are vampires; unfortunately I happen to be one, and the sun constantly repulses me. It tricked me once; playing with the light on the side of my wall when I was in bed, and we laughed and got along for a while...but she has sort of a sadistic mannerism...my sun is obsessive complusive with manic and bipolar tendencies. Sure, the sun deserves it's respect for giving life and being a strong support system and all of that...but that doesn't mean it should take advantage of those who depend on it. *sigh* Mothers...

It appears, though I've been academically accepted at the school of my choice, and my portfolio positively reviewed for the department of my enterest, my destination no longer lies within the sad state of Misery. I hope the sun cries when she finds out the news.

2005-03-15T22:42:00.001-06:00

Hiatus until further notice

2005-03-06T22:20:00.000-06:00

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

And yet another weekend goes by seemingly without more than two blinks. Oh the sick irony of it all- life, that is.

Maybe I shouldn't complain in such a manner, though. I'm trying to get in good with the man, and trash talking his work probably wouldn't be the best way to get a VIP pass. Not that I want one, I just need some favors. Gosh, I just can't seem to mind my tongue under the correct perstigue.

Well, I auditioned at Webster, an extremely renowned school, where I was up against all sorts of characters from across the country, quite literally. Thank God the majority were there for Musical Theatre. Thank God I have no interest in musical theatre. I believe, If my calculations are correct, I have a one in ten chance of being selected for the BFA Acting program for Regional Theatre.

Call me too critical on myself, and I guess rightfully so, but I think my audition was...terrbile, to say the least. True, I think I was one of the better actors there out of us 7 that auditioned that afternoon, but...I just did awful, on my standards. Alright, first monologue: I don't really understand it anyways, so it doesn't help when I FORGET THE WHOLE THING ON THE FIRST LINE. Gah. I'm pretty sure they knew I was jumbling sentence structures around all over the place, completely crusifying the playwright's work. The second one I am in better tune with, but damn it to hell if I'd already passed my 3 minutes time limit 4 or 5 sentences short of the end of it. And to think I'd planned to do my best one first. I may live to regret that choice for the rest of my life, you know.

At least one of the auditioners seemed interested in my last peeice. He asked me what my take was on the character, and who I got it from, then I told him I'd found it on my own. He also asked if I'd rehearsed it in front of anyone before, or gotten help on it, and I said no, just all by myself. That gave me a little bit a reassurance, but I think they could tell I was off edge. I walked out and could stop repeating the word "fuck" to myself all the way down the hallway. Or all the way down the stairs. Or all the way through the lobby. Or all the way down the sidewalk, crossing a few cross walks, going up more stairs, through the film production department, the undergraduate center, the university center, passed the library, and all the way back through there. Yes, I was quite agitated with myself. God I hope I make it.

Well, I'll just have to tell people to pray for me, and I'll have to pray too. True, I am no religious person, but...I don't know, maybe it's a start, ey?

There was a kid there that was at my last audition, and he didn't make it. Neither did my other friend that auditioned there for musical theatre, though I already knew that she wasn't good enough. I mean, sure, she can carry a tune and sing and all that, but when it comes to acting...nah. She seems to think that she's so passionate, but really...I don't think she is, I think she just wants people to look at her and say "Hey, I use to know her" and get out all of her "important ideas" for being so famous. That's not what it's about. It's not about playing the role, it's about living it, breathing it, being it, so much so that it may linger on in you for the rest of your life. She speaks of diversity in roles, and how manditory that is to be a true artist, when all she does is recite lines. The key to acting is quite the opposite of what the word intends. You find the best acting in not acting at all. And that's all she does; act.

Oh well, I'm getting to immersed in such a rather shallow subject, but truthfully I need to get these thoughts out, because surely it would be bad form for publicize my opinion locally. And I do not wish that, I simply wish to ponder to myself such thoughts, and no more. It kind of saddens me that I've lost a little trust to this site--it was the Logan scare. It's still there. I still have Eville thinkings on that too...

2005-03-04T11:10:00.000-06:00

What Kind of Teen Are You?

the sad teen. Everything in life is f*ckin'
miserable. You constantly look over your
shoulder and wonder who is judging you...even
when you are alone. So naturally, you have
become a little paranoid and pessamistic. Your
personality can be one demensional but
confusing. You are constantly bored with life
and wish that something could spice it up. You
have a unique view on life and have identified
the problems with school society (Ex...what
makes popular people, how the student mind
works...) You would rather be alone because you
hate being hurt. You tend to think that no one
understands you, not even your parents /
guardians / friends. But that is just the
opposite! The people who love you want to
help, but they don't know how because they have
a feeling that they will say something wrong
and turn you away. You have to let them know
that you are willing to hear what they have to
say...and it might do some good to listen to
them.

Some fields you might consider going
in when you are older...Judge, author,
songwriter, producer, therapist, psychologist,
philosopher, or forensic scientist. You need a
job where you can express yourself and your
views on life. Or you need a field where you
can judge others and predict what is going on
in others life. Either way... you have the
personality to get you a good job that will
support you throughout life.

What type of teenager are you?
brought to you by

2005-02-28T16:58:00.000-06:00

CONVO OF THE DAY

Me: Hey Grandma, I made it into that acting program at SMSU

GMa: Well congradulations! I'm gowna hafta bi yew somethin!

Me: Actually, you could deduct some money from what I already owe you.

GMa: Yew owe me money? How much?

Me: $60

GMa: Well, boy, I didn't know you owed me s'much.

Me: That's what you said the last time I told you. And the time before that. In fact, I'll bet you
$10 you'll forget this time.

GMa: Oh no I won't.

(pause)

Me: And you can't write it down either, because I want that 10 bucks.

GMa: What $10?

Me: ....

2005-02-27T09:43:00.000-06:00

A WEEKEND WITHOUT WORRIES

Everyone is gone for a while
The people that have to love you, that is,
And here I am at ease

I love this living alone
I can be productive and recreational
Without having to bother about consiquence
Brought on by those who have to love you

The cool breeze of the winter/spring air
Hits my face as I take the trash out
I turn around to a sky of infinite colors
The moon is so big and yellow
I feel like I've never seen it before;
Overlooked it; took it for granted
Like so many other things

My mind goes in tangents
As I wander around this town blindly
Looking for something but expecting nothing
But it makes me feel all right
The slight tinge of tobacco
Soothes me, of all things
And I fall into a hazy sleep
With those who hate to love me

2005-02-26T16:38:00.000-06:00

IT'S FUNNY WHAT A COOKIE WILL DO TO YOU

So, I had a party last night...and it was successful, to say the least. Not to big, not to small, good people, no spills or breakings of any sort, and overall had a really great, infectuous atmosphere. It all ended before one, which is rather curious, but preferable I s'pose, considering I couldn't go forever. Afterall, I'd have to go to work at 11 the following morning.

I didn't go to work.

Hehe, I called in sick, because I had a small case of "Blank Heaves", that is, having to puke, but nothing to puke up. Odd, but I was minorly successfull here and there. Quite uncomfortable as well, but that was the farthest extint of a hang-over I've had since the only other one I had; which was a living hell for...a few days. Hah.

EDIT*

Oh well, I got served, so to speak. You know, I've been kind of depressed for a while; I guess it's the whole winter thing, but I find it remarkable that I'm feeling pretty good right now. I think it probably has something to do with getting horomone/arousel levels up. I imagine it's probably unhealthy to go for too long without feeling desire(able). Hmmm...if I were a scientist I'd definantly explore that. Maybe the general public would start feeding there children different vitamins...

2005-02-23T15:33:00.000-06:00

CONSPIRACIES OF TYRANNY

You know, I use to think people who thought there was a conspiracy against them were just melodramatic, paranoid, and a little self-absorbed.

That is, until there became a conspiracy against me.

I'm not really sure why people chose to follow others into hatred. As far as I know, there are 6 or 7 people who "hate" me, half of which I don't even know, I mean, really. As far as I know, I haven't done anything directed negatively towards these people- I haven't gone out of my way to be annoying or clingy or ignore them completely (hehe, I rhymed). I tell you I could not be more honest when I say these people don't even know me. Maybe they don't understand me (even though they mostly know nothing about me, honestly), and maybe that scares them, so you can only feel comfort in hatred.

I see it all as fake. I mean, I know it all had to have started with Lauren, but...what's the point? What is the point of wasting your energy and thoughts on hating someone that you don't even know? What's the point in feeling such feelings that are so insincere. Moreover, one of these people pretends to be alright with me, indeed even interjects conversation. In this, I feel that a few are being insincere about hating me, they just say that to....fit in...or comfort...I have no clue, I just find it totally obscure, pasturized, and rather immature. What can I expect though, it is high school.

I've thought about giving them all a reason to hate me- being an asshole, deliberately acting stupid or rude, but I haven't acted on these thoughts. I also do not feel that is at all necessary, because then I'd be the hypocrite wasting my energy on them. Rather, I'd like to ask a few why it is they hate me- what have I done, or what antics just generally unnerve them.

Now, this does not mean I will do so for everyone. No, though I would like to better understand where the hatred derived from in Lauren, I would rather she approach me, considering I could give a shit to ever talk to her worthless ebing again. I mean, she did the initial offence, so that's all the message I need. But there are a few that really are ignorant, egotistical, hypacritical bastards, which I do not like. I, unlike them however, let my feelings be known, in a civil way, mind you.

I'm not really sure about what to do about it all, truthfully, I just know something must be done. I don't see how I could be such an annoyance and not be obnoxious or envolved at all with any of these people. But something must be done, because it's wrong for people to act in such a manner, though it happens everyday, and I will not stand for it.

Time to kick some ass ***pops knuckles***

2005-02-11T23:15:00.000-06:00

SITTIN' AROUND WITH A POCKET FULL OF NONEY

So, here are my financial stabuility rates for today: As of this very moment, I have in my possession some $1525. I have five days until I have to make my huge payment, so as you can imagine I am counting my bills daily and scavenging every penny I find. After mum pays my this coming Monday ($355 she/Wendy owe me), I will have $1880. When I get paid on Thursday, I think that will add about $120 ($2000). Now then, the problem is getting my $500 back from Columbia. I sent another e-mail last night, cantacting them for the third time in 3 weeks about retrieving my money, and they finally replied to me, and said they're doing everything they can to get it here sometime next week. That being said, I'm not going to hold my breath that it will get here in time. Should it happen to arrive on time, I'll still need to borrow $70 from my grandma. If not, well, add about $500 to that.

Sorry, but writing about that helps me to better understand and keep up with that area.

OK, well, that's that for now; I really have to go do my homework, and I'm really thirsty

Ciao.

2005-02-10T21:50:00.000-06:00

I'M A MACHINE OF ANTI-CAFFIENE

I just have one thing to say...

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Well, maybe a little more...

I hate. A lot. It sucks.

Alright moving on... so these last few days I've been stressed out of my mind. So much is going on, and I'm so busy, everything is so chaotic...I can't really even think straight, not even to type a decent sentence. I feel desperate, fake, and...misunderstood. Eh.

The thing that is most agonizing for me, at the moment, is that Columbia College hasn't sent me my $500 room deposit back- and I have to make a $2570 payment in one week. Right now I have something like $1900, and people owe me something like $50, so I'm holding my breath for dear life, literally. It's going to really suck if I can't make this payment on time, because the late fee is $75. Five-hundred dollars is an effing large amount of money, and could mean the difference of making this payment realistic or insane. Damn it, if only I'd waited a week, then I would have never sent it...

My life, as of this moment, fucking sucks.

Well, let me try to be optimistic....as hard as it may be for me now-a-days. Uhhh...It Columbia mays me back, I'll only need to borrow some hunder or so dollars, and that's relatively easy considering my grandma's already volunteered such. So far I have to pay people back a total of $540, which is only to Vern and Stevo. Gosh, I'm so glad to have them in my life....this would have never been possible without their contributions. I myself probably wouldn't have been brave enough to lend someone $200 or so dollars, but this is one of 3 or 4 times Stevo's done so, and I'm so glad they both trust me in such a way. I wish I could be as humane as they.

Well, next week is going to be hell for sure. I get paid on the very day I have to send off my money order, so I have to drop by work right quick at about noon and get my cash, then go to the bank and get everything transfered to a money order, then get to my humble abode in time for the mail to pick it up. God I hope it all gets there in time. I have two money orders made out to me that I have to get converted between now and then, and on Tuesday I have to take my grandmother in the bank with me so they'll cash the check she made out to me.

On top of all that, I have to memorize 2 monologues and audition that very Saturday, and I'll be travelling all Friday to get to the campus. I'm really thinking about betting money on when my head is going to explode. I can't wait until after next weeks over. I'll still have a lot going on, but I won't be so pressured by money, and I won't have to worry so much about school work, becasue I won't have to work so much. Then I can focus on the play more, and prep for my most challanging audition: Webster.

And what do you know- I think my family is going out of town that whole weekend. I'll get Justin to drive me up...and oh yea...

PPPAAAAAAARRRRTTTAAAYYYY!!!

2005-02-06T22:07:00.000-06:00

TIRED, ANXIOUS, AND TRANQUALIZED

I find myself feeling this way frequently now-a-days. It does help that I have college auditions, a $2500 payment, a play, senior essay, and numerous scholarships and applications due at about the same time; within a month. The stress is building, kind of like Janga (I love that game), and I think everything is about to fall apart any second. On top of that, lets add home stresses of moving grandma in, hosting a yardsale, chores, school, rehearsal, tutoring, two jobs, and the messiest room ever, and you've got complete chaos. Not to mention a screaming nagging sizzlyling irate mother.

I did find out some really awsome news though, yet I feel I mustn't tell anyone least I jinx it. And this, my friends, could be THE biggest jinx of my life; so much so that I don't think I'm going to tell you at the moment; maybe in a later post. Hell, I'm not even telling Verny. It has to do with college and affordabuility. MOVING right along...

I feel curiously anxious to converse with Logan. I think It's because we haven't spoken in so long, I still have many questions that I've since forgotten about because, well, I wished never to speak to him again. Could I possibly be putting on my own noose? I can think of no better word but curious to describe this antagonizing want of words that I have. In fact, I find myself signing onto MSN more just in case he's on (but, mind you, I will not ever IM him first). I'd rather speak in person though. Would it were that I had more money, I would make some interesting concoctions, but that's another story...

And now I'm still anxious, and it's eating me up. I think this is what I'll do for the moment being:

Type up a list of dates and things I need to do on them
Type up a list of things I want
Try to organize my room a bit

I hope to put a survey on here soon. Cheers

2005-02-02T21:51:00.000-06:00

a skeleton at the intersection

Am I falling back into the black hole again?
Have I slipped yet again
On that bit of the strip
That seems to buckle at it's seams,
And beg for another penny?

I'm feeling the darkness creep up again.
Could it possibly be
That I'm trying to see
Something invisibly visible
Yet so far out of reach?

What am I saying
To the gravy, lumpy and mushy,
That sucks itself to the fork
That I stare to intently at...?

I don't even like gravy.

Gray things; they remind me of the city
So pretty, and so bizarre in it's own,
So full of emptiness; so alone.

I'm a parellelagram
In this big city of bones.

2005-01-25T22:46:00.000-06:00

MAKE MINE A PRICKLY SPINE

So, it appears Logan has gotten all the way to round three. God in Heaven, who would have imagined such a thing could happen? Certainly not I. Ah well, there's a reason for everything, I'm sure. In fact, everything seems to be working int he man's favour. Eh?

The stars are against me.

So, he has been charged to go to my favorite spot on Friday, January 28th, at 1:30 PM. He must arrive within 20 minutes (10 minutes pre or post) of the scheduled time. Hehe, I finally allowed him to reply back, and he has confided that he is a bit wary of what may happen, and scared to think that I may be spying on him from some distant bushes.

You know what sucks? I think I'm going to have to pay some money for this. My idea was to just meet there and talk, but now I'm thinking I'll have to put some big writing on my car window, because I don't think he'll have the wits enough to stop and get out. I think he may feel that all he needs to do is drive by the place and that's that.

Actually, I've devised a plan of my own.

I suppose if he's not smart enough to get out and look around, than he isn't really worth talking to, so let's just assume he gets out of his vehicle. I will post a sign (probably on my vehicle) Telling him it's a game of hide and seek, and to find the exact location in that area that I'm at (which is my favorite of favorite spots) he'll then have another 20 minutes (hey, I don't think he'll need all that, but just in case). I think I may be running low on time though, so I may just put myself out in the open.

I s'pose we'll hang out there for a little bit, and then I'll take him to China Buffet (as a reward, I gather), and we'll eat and carry on and blahblahblah.

Right now I'm really hoping he isn't looking at my blog. Where's the suspence in that?

Man, it's going to cost $10 to go to China Buffet, so I hope he bring some money so I don't have to pay everything. That sucks. I was hoping to spend my gift card on it, but I can't seem to find it anywhere. I guess I'll go find it shortly...

To get kind of off the subject, his girlfriend lately has been acting like such a fucking bitch. And dude, she talks about him all. the. time. Mark my words, I don't mean in a good manner either. Actually, she's been quite snide to me recently as well, and I don't even talk to the kid anymore. I don't know...she use to be so great, but now...*sigh*

It's kind of happenning to my friend Katie as well. Apparently, she and Katie are best friends, and now Katie is doing all of this bad stuff. In fact, when Katie is around Lauren, she acts like she barely knows me! That's bullshit, and I'm going to talk to Katie very soon about that kind of stuff. If kind of feels like Katie is turning her back on me so that she can go out and get messed up. She can still go out and do that and still be my friend, but the fact that she's running away from me to do it is quite unreasonable and hurtful. Slightly repulsing as well, because at the same time I kind of feel like if she's going to be that way, maybe she should just run away from me.

Mind you, I don't confide this into anyone, because I am not one to gossip or talk about friend behind there backs, and until Katie herself has heard this from me personally, she will not hear it from anywhere else.

I am also curious as to what Lauren feels towards me. I've never done anything wrong directed towards her, but surely Logan has poisoned her mind beyond return, and 2 is more than 1. Actually, getting back to Katie, anytime the subject of the seperation of Logan and I comes up she seems to defend Lauren more than I, even when I told her the complete story, which started years ago, and I suppose she seems to think that I am in the werong. Therefore, Lauren surely has confided much to her, which I am growing ever more curious to know, but it's really...so confusing to me that Lauren has in a way turned Katie against me. Therein, 3 is more than 1.

I can't wait to leave all this drama.

I am quite...anxious and displeased right now, just from being so confused and frustrated. I'd love to believe the best of people, like I use to, but I know now that sometimes there's no going back to the brightness of the good old days, but you must look towards the brightness of a freelance future. I would love to be able to trust people again, to express my thought without having to worry about anyone understanding or not, and to just be accepted.

I think I've been looking, stumbling, actually, absently around for this acceptance, for someone to understand without having to understand, and to just poor my heart out to. It's so odd, and I'm quite confused, but I think there is a significance if Logan does win this game. I use to trust him so much, and I miss that trust, but it's been so long since I was able to trust someone so fully, I don't know that I can ever trust someone like that again. Right now, I'm now really sure if he knows how much I trusted him, or if he did indeed break that trust in more ways than I know he already did. That would hurt worse.

I think I just need someone to be there for me right now, and I don't mean romantic, and I don't mean sisterly, I mean someone who I can fall into and be soothed by, and find hope and strength and acceptance and so much much more than I can even think of right now.

I think these thoughts are in vein, and I'm not really sure how to go about realizing what they mean yet, but it's either all or nothing. Hell, I'm not even sure what we'll talk about when we see each other, how we'll act, what we'll do...I just, in the end, hope he's there.

For me.

2005-01-23T22:29:00.000-06:00

Vodka

?? Which Alcoholic Drink Are You ??
brought to you by

2005-01-22T23:54:00.000-06:00

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH PFFFFFT

Ello. Dude. I hung out with way too many gay guys last night. And I worked 12 hours today. I'm nuts, and I wish my hair was sticking out at all ends. That would be cool.

Gah, this sucks. Justin and I have to be in St Louis tomorrow by 12:30, and we don't even know when we're leaving. In fact, I don't even know if he knows where my house is. What could be MORE perfect?

Oh, I know, how about Logan has passed the first 2 rounds? Yea, that sounds great...*caugh, gahg* Oh, excuse me, I was just dying. Alright, so, you know what? I b'lieve he looked at my profile, and has now gotten access to my blog...
...
...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
*cough* Whew, frog in my throat. *loosens coller* Anywho, yea, so now he's going to be all inside my head, and that's a really fucked up thing, and I don't know that I'm comfortable with that. That's not cool, because I'm not entirely confident that this site will be kept just to him. I'm not saying he'll deliberately give it out, but what's say if a friend comes over and thinks it's something relative to The Mars Volta? Yikes, man. I hope that doesn't happen. I don't know that I care of him reading everything, just the whole thought of him finding it and looking without being permitted by me personally. It's kind of like respecting someone's personal limits. *ehem*

Then again, who am I to say? I've done it for quite some time now on Aaron's many blogs. But what can I say? His lyrical writings are beautiful, and can be interpreted in so many ways. Note, people, that I am ONLY talking about what he writes, and yes, I'm happy to say I've moved on.

By the way, hi Logan, and how are you enjoying your visit? You know, I wrote something in here directed specifically to you, but I never gave you my site link. I s'pose that a good things, but not you've got it, so maybe you'll find it floating about somewhere in April or it's surrounding months.

It would be so refreshing to know that I was talking to nothing right now.

2005-01-20T13:44:00.000-06:00

DOUCHE, WHERE'S MY CAR?

(A famous quote of a...special...kid in my art class. Really quite amusing; he's a character)

So, I've been writing an incy bit lately. Which is good, yes, but I need to write things that will benefit me for schoooooling. I need scholarships, damn it! That's it...I've got to do something about this...time is becoming quite limited, and if I don't start getting my shit together this instant, things just aren't going to happen. DO I care? Yes...and no. THings are just really unclear for me right now, so I'm going to move right along...

Well well, it appears that the Big Bad Wolf (aka Logan) isn't quite ready for the story to be over. Of course, who could resist me? KIDDING. Anywho, it appears that he has finally come to the realization that he was indeed the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and that I didn't deserve to be treated like that. SO, now that he's grown up a wee bit, and knows that he's done so, (as I'd originally advised him to do, at which he took great offence) he wants to be....FRIENDS with me again, dunDUNDUUUNNNN!!!

Ok, you can stop screaming now. I've asked a few of my VERY VERY VERY close friends about it, and they say, basically "He sounds the same as he ever was [like a schitzo]; don't do it!" I find myself at this point in time very washy washy and complacint about the whole matter. I've loathed this young man for so long, and so righteously, and felt so comforted in that hatred. True, sometimes I've abandoned those feelings for awhile, but never have I come to terms with liking him again. If anything remotely close to a friend have I thought, it has been under terms of using him or ruining HIS mind, as he has mine. I'm just very confused by the matter, but I think I'll have a little fun with it.

How will I have fun? I am one who loves mind games (no, not in a cynical/sadist way, more of a hide and seek, match the cards way), so this I think will be amusing, I just hope he doesn't win. Don't worry though, I'm not going to give any slack in the line, so he'll have to be holding on for dear life. Alright, this is just a sketch, but these are the basic guidelines:

1) Go into the poetry forum I am a member of, and find the alias I go under (only 1 guess, and if he gets it wrong than that's the end of the game)

2) Take a quiz about me and get at least half correct (50% or more, and he moves on to the next round)

3) Go to my Favorite Spot (a secluded place to which he's been before, but he has to remember what place it was) at a selected date, at a selected time. (If he does not arrive within 10 round minutes of that time, then he just lost the game)

Keep in mind that all of this will remain in complete secrecy, save for 2 or 3 of my BEST friends. If he tells anyone about any of this at any point in time, the game is up, and he's lost his chance at any sort of approach or apology. And if he does? Well, he can enjoy a nice, breezy afternoon with me at my favorite spot. This, however, does not conclude if that will be the first of many meetings, which I highly doubt, but I know he wants to have again. He will have to prove himself before he ever gains my trust again.

Let the games begin...

2005-01-18T13:57:00.000-06:00

THESE DAYS

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking these days
These days
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do.

And all the times I've had...
...the chance to.

I stop my rambling
I don't do too much gambling these days
These days
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my way...

And I wonder if I'll see another...
...highway.

I had a lover
I don't think I'll risk another these days
These days
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing...
...so long.

Then I'd stop my dreaming
I don't do too much skeeming these days
These days
These days I sit on corner stores
And count the time the corner turns to ten
Please don't confront me with my failures
'Cause I have not forgotten them

2005-01-06T21:24:00.000-06:00

WE MEET AGAIN

Yeah, so, umm...sorry for the mistreatment and absence of entry...I've actually been quite busy. And yes, I do genuinely feel bad about not writing so avidly as the beginning days. What can I say, there is life beyond internet, believe it or not. So, here's my chance to make up for the previous yet temperary haitus.

First and foremost, let me congradulate, well, me on finally getting a job, after over 2 years of applying here and there and surely bugging the hell out of people. I've finally a job as a cashier in a in a local grocery shop, and I will not go into specifics about how overwhelmingly confused I've been about all of these buttons and counting rules these few beginning days. This is my first and only day off, actually. Lucky you, ey?

Bits and peices of my family still owe me a couple hundred bucks, and aside from that I've finally earned up enough to send my housing prepayment to Columbia College, woot. Now all I need is about $3000 more...oh what to do. God I need a lot of money, and supposedly within the next few months. That isn't even including college, argh. I'm just really thankful that I at least have enough to send the housing application off- the rooms go really fast up there.

I did myself a really nice favor today: I made Me a mix titled "Chillin like Bob Dylan" it is very low-key, jam band, enviromental, indie-esque. It makes me happy; now I finally have something to listen to in Stevo's wheels (Stevo, i.e. twin bro). I think I'm going to make myself a lot and lot and lot of mixes, because basically all of my good music is on this computer--a computer that I'm only spending a few more months using, and then I'm packing up and getting the hell out of here.

I need a haircut.

My schedule's actually pretty cool this semester, and I am not one to use the word cool so loosely. Here is the lineup:

BLACK DAYS

US History: Piece of cake. It's a Freshman class (I wasn't here Freshman year), and the teacher is super easy. No questions, hands down, I'm getting an A
Drawing II: ...What more needs to be said?
Library Assistant: This is my fourth semester in the program, and I've sure learned a lot. This is one of the extremely few, if not only, things I'll miss about high school. The librarians are fucking. awsome.
Homeroom: ZzZzZzZzzzz...
Stats & Probability: A math class which I need in order to be accepted into any Missouri university, and to make up for a lacking half credit in Algebra II. Actually, I'm not going to college in Missouri, so it's worth shit to me. But hey, it probably looks good, and it's actually easy and interesting. A suprising thing for me to say.

GOLD DAYS

Student Worker: Heh, basically I sit in my favorite English teacher's class and do nothing, or go to the library and fool off. End.
AP World Lit & Comp: Actually, and most miraculously, I did so much extra credit last semester for this class, I got an A, which, if you know me, is pretty bizarre, especially being AP. I'm very fond of English and Literature, so I like this one. The teacher's groovy.
A+ Tutor: Once again, another plus for college, but once again, only for Missouri, so it's useless. I haven't gone yet, but I will start next week at a 1st-3rd grade center working with students. It should be pretty interesting.

And that's it. On Gold days I get out at 12, which is quite convenient for me, being that now it's apparent that I'm going to be a workaholic. Oh, did I mention work sucks? I mean, if I had a chair I wouldn't mind it so much, but to stand up for 6 hours is kind of...painful?

I had some other stuff to talk about, but I can't think of anything at the moment, so sorry. Oh, I know: There's a movie audition the 11th coming here, neato ey? Guess who's going to audition ; ) Uh huh. It's only an extra audition though, but whatever. The movie's titled Apocolypse and the Beauty Queen, anyone heard of it? Me neither, but it apparently has only one actor in it, from what I gathered off of IMDb. Hey, it's a start, and it's pretty exciting to me! hehehohohoooo...I can't wait to audition. I wonder if I'll get kicked out of the play...

Oh well.

Did I mention I'm in a play? Yes, it's called Godspell. It was at SMSU when I attended the PAI program, and it was damn good. HOWEVER, on a highschool level, and think it's going to be...well, I'll just say I think this Drama Director has to high of expectations on this group. He's a type-casting biast bastard anyways, so fuck'um.

That's that, sorry for the short paragraphs, but I'm quite tired and need my rest for the rest of my working week, AARRRGGHH. Alright, and hey, you take it easy, and I mean that.

Much love.

2004-12-21T15:44:00.000-06:00

At the end of the day though, you finally get to see all you've accomplished. And what a great accomplishment it is.

2004-12-21T15:42:00.000-06:00

Even if you think you're alone, it's always good to smile, just in case.

2004-12-21T15:41:00.000-06:00

You never really know where the camera's going to be, or what it might catch you doing.

2004-12-21T15:40:00.000-06:00

True, having fun is a big part of the job

2004-12-21T15:39:00.000-06:00

Don't be afraid to act natural. It is essential to be on the same level as your admirers.

2004-12-21T15:37:00.000-06:00

Another big rule: You musn't be camera shy. If you have a gut feeling you should try another position, chances are it's going to look great on camera.

2004-12-21T15:36:00.000-06:00

Attitude is also a big issue. You want to show people you're having a fun time in your cool new shirt, don't you?

2004-12-21T15:34:00.000-06:00

Others can be extremely painful.

2004-12-21T15:33:00.000-06:00

It is also beneficial to be flexible--some positions can become pretty paintul.

2004-12-21T15:32:00.000-06:00

Know this: you have to be a risk taker. There is no position to large or small to conquer in the modelling world.

2004-12-21T15:31:00.000-06:00

Sometimes you have to wear animal skins, so you should naturally be an animal lover.

2004-12-21T15:30:00.000-06:00

Style is always a contest- you want to fit in, while at the same time being unique.

2004-12-21T15:29:00.000-06:00

For some, it is a fairly trying experience

2004-12-21T15:28:00.000-06:00

For instance, you have to have good people skills, and make your feelings look genuine.

2004-12-21T15:27:00.000-06:00

Sure, all of the luxuries are nice, but there's a lot of work that goes into modelling.

2004-12-21T15:26:00.000-06:00

Well, here's some news for those of you seeking the truth...

2004-12-21T15:24:00.000-06:00

IT'S NOT.

2004-12-21T15:21:00.000-06:00

They think it's all just a bunch or horsing around, and being really really good-looking.

2004-12-21T15:18:00.000-06:00

Some people don't realize how hard modelling really is-

2004-12-15T16:47:00.000-06:00

THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF MY PREMATURE LIFE
(as interpreted by Sigur Ros in Avalon)

Well, tomorrow is my birthing day. When the dial on the clock reaches 44 in the hour of 8 in the morning, upon this I will have cross over into the not-so-wide world of legality.

So, what's interesting?

Nothing. Here's the irony of it: I can now legally buy cigarettes--I don't smoke. I can now watch pornography or call up an 800 number of such--I have no desire to do so. So, the only things about it that REALLY benefit me are that now I don't have to put my age on job applications, and...that sounds about it to me. Oh, and I can work in a movie store, woot.

Isn't it funny when your family pleads for you to make a Christmas list, because you're so particular and they never know what to get you, so you finally make one, and they never get you what you put on there? That sucks. Maybe I need to make a list of what I "Don't" want, and they'll get all of it for me. I'm pretty sure my Mum has skeemed everyone to get me what she thinks I need. That sucks.

So top it all off, I am unbelieveably picky when it comes to clothing. For some reason, I refuse to wear anything that I didn't personally pick out. OK, my family has known this for years now, so, as my brother and I were going over to our grandmothers apartment, I was openly musing to him about what we might get. I made a joke that "Hey, maybe she'll get us some T-Shirt!" But then tossed the idea, telling him I knew they couldn't possibly be THAT stupid.

I was wrong.

I mean, I AT LEAST thought she'd get me a DVD I'd wanted, or SOMETHING, but here's what I actually got: Half used body spray, which was actually mine because I'd left it over there for when I spent the night with her, half a wrap of hairbands that I thought I'd sold in a yardsale this summer (and, by the way, my hair's too short for them now, anyhow), and, tadaa, a shirt. I mean, it's my 18th year being associated with these people, and they still, STILL, get me this kind of shit?

Well, I was polite, and thanked her with a smile. Yeah, you know what she got my brother? Two old toys he didn't want that she'd offered him weeks ago, and a T-Shirt.

Thanks Grams, you're the best.