it's all different after you're gone. after i leave.
when the lights are on, when the fog's cleared.
you aren't. you aren't a lot of things. you are not much.
i am. i am too many things. i'm not simple.
maybe it should be that way. Lord knows i have enough baggage for two - or more.
but i, honestly, don't think that has anything to do with this.
it's the way you talk so loud. the way you think you know when i'm not in the mood to talk. the way you do things to impress other people, rather than me. the way you think you know what your doing. the way you assume. the way you seem to forget important things yet never drop subjects i'd prefer not to speak off. the way you bring up the past; which i could do well without. the way you just stare at me when i'm thinking, not speaking.
the way this feels-
or rather, the way it doesn't.

why, dear heart, do you attach us to such silly things, making it impossible to do without.

sayyessayyessayyes

you know, maybe it was a good thing you left me alone in the library.
still, i can't help but hate you for taking advantage like that. not again.
no.


whoa, life. woe.


\i read this book a couple days ago, and it was one of the most clear, poignant works i've ever read through. i'm just saying. it's made me reconsider a lot. and i sort of get it now. i can't keep blocking things from my memory. afterall, when they resurface it's always terrible. but i should just remember things. and accept them. and it's weighty, yes, and in a way, they're chains. but i can breathe in the air. and i can fly. i just have to keep moving. stay in motion. and swallow that air. soon i'll be light. or something like that.


"When we pass by another person without telling them we love them it’s cruel and wrong and we all know this."
"The only infallible truth of our lives is that everything we love in life will be taken from us"

those are from that book. You Shall Know Our Velocity! i finished it in 5th period friday, and i gave it to Mr. Montgomery. i also left my bookmark in there. it was one of my Polaroids with type-written words on it. it was this tree and the sky that day, it was crazy, it was all orange and crazy. but the picture came out a lot darker. and i typed "accept loss forever" on it.
i do that. i give my books away. for good. unless it's one i'll read multiple times, like perks of being a wallflower, and on the road. i dunno, maybe i'll give those up too. not perks. never perks. but i do that bookmark thing too. i always have to use something real good as my bookmark, since i'm going to see it each time i open the book, right? and i pass those on when i let people borrow my books. habit.

i miss my best friend. i miss playing piano. i miss my hands moving so eloquently, my head falling and rising with the music. i miss writing at any free moment i had, being that girl always with the pen in her journal, writing at a show, waiting on a ride. i miss making notes and passing them in between classes. i miss the warm summer sun, setting on my skin and embracing me. unlike the winter wind, cold and pushing. i miss running through fields, collapsing down, loving the earth and the sky and the space in between. that's my space. there's none of that space in this house. that's where the movement happens. and where i feel.
oh but i miss that little house by the beach every day of my life. with it's chipping teal and yellow paint. it's rusted door knob. the cold air blowing endlessly. so cool. it was such an escape from the heat of the weather outside. and that bed. such a stiff mattress, with the noises it would make when i turned in my sleep. two windows. opposite each other on the two parallel walls. the nights it rained, i swore i heard footsteps circling my tiny abode. i was so afraid. but not when i heard your voice. never when i hear your voice. still not when i hear your voice. but that house. it was my first feeling of leaving in a space alone. it was too true.
i'll need you, you know. in this blank months. i'll need the warmth you always have. i'll need to fall into your arms. for you to pick me up. i need your whispers in my ear. stringing some sort of wordy song together. something close to love, but not really anywhere near. i need this. and your laugh to bring a smile to my face. your hands to hold me still when i shake. oh, and your eyes. those are when i die. when you hold my stare. and i can't break free. i can't leave. i could never leave. you know. i'd like to believe it's mutual. but, you. you're just not that way. we're both restless.
oh, but you, you captivate..


and this is not how i should feel. endlessgroanofdespairgoesrighthere.

but i can't let go. i can't block this out. let it linger.

i fear that this body is so constricting.

i forgot how cold it got in the winter.
i don't mean that literally.
everything is so much darker in these months.
and i know.
i know i'm going back to my old ways.
because i already have plans to.
swear i'm the worst person i know. the most confused. and so, so lost.
why, winter, why?

i would give so much just for it to be summer again.
although my efforts will not yield that, i'm going to give anyways.
i have to get rid of all this baggage. literal and emotional.

i hope you know i blame you for all of this. and yet, i'd drop it all for you, and you still make me smile like i've never known, and still i think we could, and still i have hope. i couldn't help but ask about you the other day. and i hurt when i heard you don't say much about me anymore. i was blind and i'm sorry. i did rather enjoy our conversation in the hall the other day though. things don't change.

why would i sabotage the best thing that i have?

okayokayokay.

it's been a while, but epiphany struck me today:

=it is all in my head.
everything.
like this (this being troubles in my life) is all so unreal.
i make it all up in my mind
in my mind,
i spend far too much time in there to begin with.
it gets dangerous.
i create, and recreate scenarios and lies and illusions.
there's my problem.
and i will solve it.
i will throw myself into the world.
quit living within myself. quit withdrawing and standing still.
i've noticed a difference.
no more gray. no more.
no more blank pages. because i am really going to go crazy now. literally. insane, but outside of the membrane, right?
the good crazy. the entertaining crazy.

right. whatever. see you out there.





"I tried lies; lies, they cripple crowded rooms and; lies take way too much time"
yeah, sooo, i don't think i'm going to lie anymore. really. i like the sound of that. so this should be interesting.


what's really crazy though, is that i still have paint on my feet from a week ago. how does that even happen?


i still shake though. and i still feel the nausea. and i still have bad posture. but, i bought a book today that i have no idea what is about(there was nothing on the back cover or inside), i have Pic(typewriter), Audrey(nikon), and Alex(polaroid), a new Sigur Ros cd, a journal to wreck, a best friend to unleash my far-too-dark thoughts, a christmas list to create, a lot of books to mail to strangers, a lot of books that will be mailed to me by strangers, strange obsession with "hands open" by snow patrol, $58.55 in coins, $600+ in bills in a wine bottle on my windowsill, $200+ in the bank, no faith in banks, stumbleupon, gravity, dirt, the earth, the feeling of the wind tonight that blew waytoo perfectly tobereal, a mother who thinks i'm mentally instable, a pair of pants that needs sewing, math homework that needs completing, no desire to do well in school, broken a spell, luck, a thrift-store shopping-spree soon, too much.
i have now.

it's like my whole life never happened when i see you

dear impossible-

"i'm happy that you really care, but do you really know how scary this is for you and is for me? oh, do you really know?"

-emotionally yours

shit.
"emotionally yours" by bob dylan. on repeat for the past, what?, 3 hours? that's about right. and too much coffee. looks like i'm not sleeping tonight either. oh, and thanks for giving up last night. i hope you enjoyed your rest. i slept in school.


(this all means nothing.)


time doesn't exist. now. now. allthereisisnow. all the moments are the same. everything's constant.
my mind is blown. just gonna go listen to some sonic youth, yeah, sounds good.

http://www.completeevil.com/geek.html



that just made my effing life.

so did this:
stand with your lover on the ending earth-

and while a(huge which by which huger than
huge)whoing sea leaps to greenly hurl snow

suppose we could not love,dear;imagine

ourselves like living neither nor dead these
(or many thousand hearts which don't and dream
or many million minds which sleep and move)
blind sands,at pitiless the mercy of

time time time time time

-how fortunate are you and i,whose home
is timelessness:we who have wandered down
from fragrant mountains of eternal now

to frolic in such mysteries as birth
and death a day(or maybe even less)

thank you e.e.cummings. neverfail

blue vs. white.

i'm not sure how i feel about all of this.

this=everything.
everything=anything
anything=no limits
no limits=infinity




i'm sitting here, trying to figure out just why exactly this song doesn't sound the same.
it doesn't sound the same in light as it did in the dark.
it doesn't sound the same in warmth as it did in the cold.
i don't know why.
maybe it had something to do with the rain on the windows.



i'm not sure how i feel about all of this.


"there is not justice
no truth
no forgiveness
no getting around it
and no turning back
there are only shadows of you and me
and splinters of light were hope breaks between"

-http://www.graphicpoetry.net/index.html (this guy so ripped of a softer world, but i like his poetry)


i got an e-mail today. the subject said "congratulations!" i read further to see "you're not crazy!"
and i closed the window, shut off the computer, and cried. i hate spam.

you are the rock

this image gives me so much joy. it makes me laugh every time i get to step 8. hilarious.
i'm 16 now. no difference. except for feeling stupid for waiting so long to get my permit considering i cannot get my license until january. although, i like that i actually feel like i'm older. and i'm going to like telling people i'm 16, rather than 15. i felt stupid at 15. i was. i still am. i enjoy being young i decided. it just goes all away so fast and it's only a few years. time does not exist. and i'm kind of done taking myself so seriously i think. i'm not so sure any of this even matters any more..
i just start thinking a lot on my birthdays. i don't like it. i don't like them. i don't like how we measure our lives.

"I never felt so safe
A line I once told her
Warm, resting place
Her arms on my shoulder

You are the rock
You are the rake
You are the one when I watch myself"

no logical sense comes from those words. but i get it. i know.

what can you do with a sentimental heart?

"I don't wanna wonder whether you love me
I don't wanna wonder whether you care
So don't try to woo me
Don't try to fool me
Oh, I know all of your tricks
It's the possibility of stayin' in my corner"

why on earth did i wait so long to get this album? good. ness. this could've saved me from some nights. zooey deschanel defiantly impressed. and of course, m. ward could never do wrong. this is so comforting to my soul. it's so classic and old-fashioned. mmm.

i bought myself a birthday present: a typewriter. it is one of the loveliest things i own. without a doubt.
i still have to name him/her. i decided it's going to be after someone who inspires me to write. so i just have to think about that. i can't use Sylvia because that name is being reserved for my dream, baby-blue typewriter i will own one day. i'm leaning towards jack. but that's so plain i can hardly stand it. so perhaps sal. or pic or pictorial. i would like it to be kerouac based since him and typewriters are just associated with one another i guess. o' course, there's always the possibility of just naming him ry. i'll sleep on it.

you break your neck to keep your chin up

i'm living proof that telling a hidden secret let's some of the burden off.
sheesh. no more eating away at my insides. freedom of a sort. it's goodgood.
and as if by some miracle
it's over
brokenspell
just by vocalizing some darkness
it leaves. frightened away.

i say we sit in a restaurant at talk about how every other person in there is related to each of us. and make-believe that we're all there for a family reunion. and tell stories of false relatives. or we can chat it up about how meaningless words are, and how they are all made up and twisted to mean something when in reality, there's no use in understanding. and wonder what people did before they unified a language. how did one tell someone that they wanted them to leave. how would one warn someone of an enemy. how would one tell the other they loved him or her. or of course, there is always the conversation of infinity, or lack thereof. and let's blow our minds because neither of us, along with every other human, can't wrap ourselves around the idea of forever.
all of this over hamburgers and fries. any day of the year.

you are an ass, a snake in the grass

ryad has started a personal blog. he's got a lot of pictures up. very good.

i beasted my Julius Caesar speech today. 69/70. aw yeah.

oh, it feels so good to be done with you. this is some kind of relief i have never felt before. i just want to laugh. at you. and at myself to ever feeling what i did. and for giving you a second (actually way more) chance. i don't even care anymore.

and it's good to know how i can just laugh about this. it's actually really effing hilarious.
your words mean nothing to me anymore. in hindsight, they are more comical than any joke i have ever been told. real effing hilarious. it's good to know now that you were such a good liar.

but i think i'd trade the fast-approaching winter for summer. and i'd rather be sarcastic than perverted. and i'm more comfortable with no friends than a large group. and i like piano better than guitar. your lack of knowledge completely disturbs me. 0-1 car wrecks. i hate paying $9 for a movie ticket. i would rather be outside than in a car. or outside than sitting on a couch. i wish you took me more seriously. i wish i could take you more seriously. and i wish you could see me through different eyes. maybe of a clearer color.
and i would take hurtful honesty than silence any day.


can't you? just, please?

learning to love you more

simple.
and i'll leave it at that.

http://www.learningtoloveyoumore.com
because this may be one of my favorite websites i've found.

you move awfully quiet now

um, i'm losing my mind.
no joke. i feel like i am mentally unstable.
so, i will just not write in this place.
because i'm fearful of what i would say in this state.


this happens anytime the weather gets cold and windy.


and damn you sylvia plath. your writings are making me go even more out of my mind.
"Remember how he trusting looked long and sweetly at you out of the dark at the door with all the wild wind in the dark grasses, and how love was there in his face - making you, miraculously, the dream girl and woman, sister and sweetheart, mother and spiritual mistress. You walked in, laughter, tears welling, confused, mingling in your throat. How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?"

ahh

i didn't even realize how much pride i had to swallow before i noticed the tears running down my face from choking on all of it.
so, this is new. this is a change. for the better i think. i'm really vulnerable, but to my utter surprise, it has only gotten better. so i'm doing this one day at a time. tomorrow? wha? i have not even considered that. if i do, i'll start hyperventilating maybe. just in this moment. i'm here and okay.

but nostalgia has never kicked in this hard. i can't quite remembering your face and how hard you made me laugh. i cannot forget all the time we shared, good or bad. you were a part of my life. and i don't think you deserved what i did. how i left. but i'm okay. and i know you are too. i think you would love to know how much everyone loves and misses you. you probably already do though.
but i will never be able to listen to smashing pumpkins without thinking about you. and i'll never be able to eat marshmallows without remembering you. even that one shade of green reminds me of you always. i know you will not soon be forgotten. i'd like to believe you know how sorry i am. and how i wish i could just hug you once more, and tell you that you were one of the best guys.
i cannot shake your image from my head. even with my eyes open, you are all i see.


i don't believe in coincidences. i don't believe it was just by chance that the first song i heard after hearing about you was "james" by Great Book of John
and i don't think it was just random that when i opened my bible that night, it landed in the book of James.
so i believe everything happens for a reason. even if i don't know why. because i don't. no one here does. you will not soon be forgotten.

incurable humanist

i have not been this speechless in a long time.
but tonight awoke way too many emotions and memories. and i can't quite handle this. it's a first. and i have to live. i can't do this. not anymore. this, this hatred and these fights, it's far to tolling. too tiring and way too sickening.
i have already waited too long, i've learned. i have taken far too much for granted. i have wasted away in pettiness and pride. believed far too many lies to justify myself and to ease my own pain.

and i couldn't tell you how long it's been since i cried on someone's shoulder before tonight.
i could not tell you how long it's been since i have felt loved like i once did.

i don't know. and i don't expect anyone else to. i don't expect You to give me answers. i pray that You guide me and show me what to do.

sleepwalking

aaaahhh.

heartbeat racing.
pounding hard against my temples.
beating too fast to keep track of.
breath comes quick and shallow
although gulping more air in than ever
the oxygen creates a dizzy sensation.
eyesight now blurred and tunneling.
fingertips shaking causing unsteady handwriting.
limbs shaking if asked to move.
a shaking, shivering wreck
heaped on the ground across piles of clothes.
gasping for too much unneeded air.
the oxygen creates a high-like feeling.
and stomach churning, can't hold anything down.
sick feeling climbs up throat.
do anything to keep the sick down.
still shaking and still beating and still breathing.
too much movement on the body's part.
cannot convulse, shake, beat, gasp, rise, and run all at once.
still quaking. still not even sure if breath is being drawn.
but heart still beating faster now than ever before.
although chest has caved in.


and this was on purpose? i don't think this is exactly what i wanted. can i get different results, please?

if i'm sorry, sorry enough

"if there is such a thing
but
that is between me and the dreams dear
and
we,
me and those dreams,
we’re getting along
just fine
so
know that
know that
all the way
into
your safe channel
whatever those blankets
look like
but
remember
me
and my eyes
and
what it looks like when i laugh
belly ease
and
calm
because
you aren’t made of a lie
and you
you did that
and you
you
you’re magick
and
me
i am here
i am here
in an ours fingers crossed position
locked down
in the cobwebs
no matter
where
my body goes
just so
just so
you know
perfect dreamer
nylon string hunter
feedback maker
soul
restarting device
or
recurring ever-present
love"

-ryan adams.

um, i don't really, can't really say anything after reading that.
but i got Cardinology in the mail today. and have listened to nothing but that since then.
um, i don't really know what's happening right now.
i worked today after a couple weeks absence. hate my job. hate the smell of brunch foods and the sound of clinking dishes and people stuffing their faces whilst asking me for more and expecting me to carry out their every whim. people disgust me. working in a restaurant just kind of kills me. and i see how much waste goes down. and how terrible people are. but i like to people watch. so that's a plus. and free coffee? while getting paid. why not.

so, i'm writing a really horrid novel. i'm saying this because advice says to tell as many people as possible so that on week 2 the fear of humiliation will keep me writing. and i know i'll need that kind of motivation. so i'm writing a novel. it's killling me.


i'm trying to think logically. here.


"dear impossible,

… how i will miss you

i miss you even now"

-ryan adams.

channeling

oh, bring on the vulnerability.
i. am. so. ready.
tomorrow, November 1st, will be a day of many firsts.
i'm writing a novel. i am going to. it's going to be crap, but i'm going to make myself do it. i have nothing to lose.

keep telling myself that: i have nothing to lose.

If I rest, if I think inward, I go mad

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"


so in stead of doing my English homework, i am reading Sylvia Plath. because she is essential to every woman who wishes to not go insane.

"Oh, God, what woman does not like to be told how wonderful she is, to see adoration naked in a young beautiful boy's eyes...[isn't it wonderful] being young, beautiful and maybe not too damned?"

i could post so many of her quotations. so many that it would end up just being her entire journals and all her works. too good for words. except for all the words she has written.
i just really wish my sister hadn't taken back her copy of Plath's journals. or her typewriter. i could use both right about now.


(i think i made you up inside my head)

drinking sparkling water and watching the lemon seeds bounce up and down inside the bottle. i don't know how they rise and fall so suddenly.

and i'm waiting for your reply.

and how could you shrug me off like that. i just let down a wall, floodgate, empire, that i had been building since the first time i laid eyes on you. and in return i get complete and utter apathy and ignorance. and i regret telling you.

now you're waiting for my reply.

and the thing is, in your response, you give evidence that makes me doubt what you say. but, i love love, so i'll believe you. this time and everytime afterward. and i guess i'm trying to say is that i'll never know what to say, i don't know what i'm doing, i have a lot of baggage, i'm so not perfect, i'm a mess, i'm a wretch, i can get jealous too easily, i'll keep things from you not because i want to but i don't want you to think i'm such a mess, and i can't turn back now.

no one said plunging in head-first felt good. in fact, there are warnings about how it's usually not a good idea. and it's true. because i've become paralyzed.

and i think that i just live out-of-focus. and i'll let that be my last psuedo-profound thing i say.

2 posts in one day. cause i have no life. but love.

as good as gone

although it makes me clutch my stomach, i do not believe this is physical pain. although it keeps me huddled over the waste basket, i don't think i can receive any medical help. it feels like someone is grabbing me around my midsection and slowly keeps tightening. i can't stand up straight and it's getting harder to breathe as it spreads up my chest. an eternal internal grip. this is no cramp or stomach ache. this is a death grip. a sickness that has no cure. this is something i've never felt before.
and it started at the very moment you left.



maybe this is what jean paul sartre was writing about.

ACCEPT LOSS FOREVER

"great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion."

"you never die enough to cry."

"i felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remember it all. the woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling. Ecstasy, even, I felt, with flashes of sudden remembrance, and feeling sweaty and drowsy I felt like sleeping and dreaming in the grass"

"I'm a wretch, but i love, love."

"it no longer makes me cry and die and tear myself to see her go because everything goes away from me like that now-girls, visions, anything, just in the same way and forever and i accept lostness forever."

"accept loss forever"




so, Jack Kerouac, please rise from the dead and marry me.

i dreamed i was replaced by a railroad

i know it's not fair. i know i put up with her bullshit. i know it's one-sided. but i don't care. because even if it's not true, i believe she would drop everything for me like i do for her. and clearly she means the world to me. and i know she treats me less than what i'm worth. but it doesn't matter to me. and maybe one day i will realize it. and i will learn. but right now, she's all i have. and i would do anything for her. i'm sure she wouldn't ruin her family for me, like i did for her last night, but to be honest, it had just been building up for years. that was just a shove in the direction to say how i feel to you. and to let you know how wrong you are and how much i hate this house that's not a home. and i may regret saying that to you one day. i probably hurt you, but you don't know how much i've been hurting. and how much i've been yearning to get out. you just don't understand. and that's what i resent.

and you. how could you know how much i care. and hear how much i was fighting for you and then tell me a few moments later that everything was okay now. what the hell. i can't believe that. i can't believe you let him talk his way out of everything. but you do. and i know why you do. but it's so wrong. no one should be treated like that. and i want you two to be happy but you can't let him get away with that. i won't let him get away with it. especially since i just lost so much for you.

this is completely accidental. our whole time together has been an accident. but now i'm in. and this won't end well. i didn't mean to, but i need you now. i can't have you looking the other way, or going in another direction. i need you to see me. and to listen to me. and i don't need this to be pity. i need you to care. i need to care. i need you to need me. and i'll try to not be a wreck. i'm here. this is not what i wanted. but this is what it is. and i cannot afford to let you go now. i'm just paranoid i think. but i mean every word. it all means something.

i'm really liking folk music again lately. it's good to hear. it makes me feel like i'm part of a story. and it makes me feel like i'm somewhere else. which is necessary to my existence.

oh, i have no idea what i'm doing. none of my life has been planned. none of this was pre-meditated. i am impulsive. and i make my moves on the spot. i never planned to scream how i've felt for my whole life in your face. i never planned to give everything up for someone who would never do the same. i never planned to need you so much. i never planned to get so close. i never planned to hate someone as much as i do you. i never planned to leave. i never planned to go through with my wildest dreams. i never planned any of this. and now, i don't know what to think. i don't know what to do.

i have the sickest, most looming, dangerous, fearful feeling in my gut right now.

and i hate it. and i hate you. and i've said it. and it's true. and i wish i could erase your memory. our memories. i wish i could shake them as easily as i've been pulling out my hair over this. what i would give to never see your face again? what wouldn't i do to rid myself of you?

the uncountable cups of coffee can't rid myself of this hang-over like daze i've been in for the past couple of days. it's more than physical.
too many factors are playing on this. too much. i can't handle. why. can we just not talk about it. can we just not. i'd beg if i'd have to. not true. i'm far too proud. also not true. i've already begged.
and why and when and where and who and how and once again, why? repeat. repeat. repeat again until it never gets old. just get sicker and sicker with this feeling that holds no name. but holds me captive. no relief.

hair's falling out, not to mention i'm pulling it out. biting my nails down to nothing. consuming more coffee than i'm sure any human should. can't sleep*. every muscle is sore for no apparent reason. and sometimes i just can't breathe.

what do i call this? what is this nausea?



*not due to the caffiene. i've gone some days without it. and some just with decaf. it's something else.

the cardinals

SETLIST:
> Into The Light > Cobwebs > Goodnight Rose > Everybody Knows > Come Pick Me Up > Sink Ships > Stereo Sweets > Peaceful Valley > Please Do Not Let Me Go > Grand Island > Stop > Shakedown > Fix It > Wonderwall > > A Natural Ghost > Rescue Blues > Sun Also Sets > Two > Easy Plateau > Mockingbird Sings > The Crazy Dude Song > Meadowlake Street > Note To Self Please Don’t Die > Freeway > Bartering Lines > Cold Roses



i died tonight. and came back to life.
more details once i de-zombify and get sleep.

Didn't I see you when you thought you'd never stand out

a few of my favorite things:
-drinking strongly brewed coffee in my new "I heart Jim" coffee mug i got at urban outfitters today
-the sound my Polaroid camera makes when it takes a picture
-listening to Copeland songs and not crying, because i'm not missing anything
-running in a field and falling to the ground to bask in the sun
-screaming my heart out
-having you by my side
-Bob Dylan hair
-stealing McCain/Palin signs
-community and shelter
-giving up and giving in
-feeling dizzy
-having no feeling of need for my possessions.
-feeding the souls and bodies of those you need nurturing.
-going past my comfort level
-laughing until i can't breathe/spit out my drink/it hurts



all this in one weekend.
and my math test tomorrow is the last thing on my mind.

p.s. RYAN ADAMS HAS CREATED HIS OWN BLOG!!!!(the other one was the cardinals' blog) effing yes. i am dancing with joy. http://foggy.davidryanadams.com/
yee-uh sonnn.

givegivegive. and give some more

garage sale today. i put almost all my things from my old room up for sale. not all of it sold, but i let my mom have all the money except $35. or rather, that's all my mom would give me. but that's okay. i just don't want my stuff anymore
i got some lunch at Zoe's today, and i got a tub of chicken salad and pita chips, and i didn't eat a lot of it so i had a lot leftover. my friend hannah and i decided to give the rest to a homeless woman who generally hangs out around downtown homewood. it was so sweet and good, and i loved the feeling of happiness it gave me. such joy.
i've been bitten by this "must give all" bug and it's occupying most of my thoughts.
even though lwynn and i jacked 4 McCain/Palin signs tonight. but i think that's justified by the fact that Obama will give the needy more than McCain. so there.

also today, molly found YET another glorygloryglorious field.
too. good... for words.
so needed. and so welcomed.
and molly uttered the words, "don't you just view everything different?'
and yes, i do. everything is so much brighter and so much more beautiful. the blues are deeper and pure. the greens are lusterous and wonderful.
had to close my eyes upon returning to a human populated area. the sight of so many people driving cars, probably not even looking at the breath-taking sky above them, made me feel ill.

oh Lord. you laid me in the field of flowers today. and i love You.

thinking of giving away most of my possessions. so serious. it sounds beautiful.
they're all just harnessing me down anyways.

oh, and everything? if i did that. oh i can only imagine how i'd feel.
i just want to feel. and give. and love. and help.
i miss the feeling of community.

getting rid of all the capacity that carries my STUFF, i would have so much free space. i mean that literally and as in my ability to care. i mean, my gosh. wonderful.


alright. i feel so good already. it's going. i'm gone.
i'm ready.

don't ask me what i'm doing with my life.
i no longer have any clue.

my next short-term goal is not to pass my history test tomorrow, no, see i don't even have any goals anymore. although i do want to climb that fire-escape...

i can never get close, i can never get close enough, i can never get close enough to you

"all my life i've been lost out in the darkness,
but i can't ever seem to get enough."


and why? i just want to know. was i not fine before you? why will i continue to chart my path into the same puddle of quicksand. stuck forever. slowly sinking. why? this is not need. this is something deeper. something was always missing. and i came close to telling you. oh, no, i'll never show you the weakness. you are right. but i don't care. and i can't seem to get enough.
oh, i'm setting myself up for this one. with complete awareness. can't keep myself to do anything else though. can i get a sign of hope from you? no, that won't do. i need proof. and i need you to be different. and not be the low standards i think you'll fill.


(i just love metaphors)


"I didn't ask you to stay. But you stayed.

I never asked you who you were
Or what you wanted. You were simply there.
What did you want from me, love? Was I not stronger alone?
And did I ever need you? But stay a bit longer.
Not long until they stop asking how I am
and I stop answering, "Fine."
Everyone can tell at a glance: You are here.
If you ever leave me
I will go with you."

into thin air

"i'm in a book for you to read and then throw out.
i wasn't born, i was just dropped into your arms.
well, mom, i've been bad and i want to come home."


each day gets easier, or just more tolerable.
each day is just one less, actually.
maybe it's this new CD, or the weight of an essay lifted from my shoulders.

all i know is i felt human today.
i had, probably, 20 ounces of water spilled across my desk, which of course, dripped to the crotch of my pants. and it seriously looked like i had peed my pants. a lot.
hilarious.

and i'm looking for a sign. and i think i may have found one today. but i don't want to believe it. cowardly.

hey shame,
how you doin'? it's been awhile. but glad to see you've made yourself at home.although i have to say: i didn't miss you one bit. you're welcome to leave whenever you'd like.

the cure for summer nostalgia might just be the crisp, cool air of autumn.

i'm thinking of chopping a good 6 inches off my hair. hmm.

I will haunt you like a ghost.

i should be doing an essay right now. one i actually should have written weeks before now. oh well, i'll probably just do it during study tomorrow.
and i can't express how much i despise school.
i can't express how much i despise the people there.
just so many of them are so fake and try to be something they're not and it is pathetic. i don't fucking get it. i'm glad i don't. i would hate to be some phony person worrying about what everyone thought about me. what a miserable, sad life that would be. what a pathetic person that would be.
who gives a damn. i'm so sick of this. i can't walk 10 feet without seeing someone give me a judgemental look. and i can't go 1 foot without seeing someone giving someone else a judgmental look. i can't stand it.
i hate how advanced our school is or whatever. these classes are killing me. frankly, i don't care at all really. but my parents do. and i just hate hearing the same lectures and getting in the same arguments. and tonight i told my mom i was not my sister nor my brother and she actually said, "yes, you are."

i wish i wasn't the last child and didn't have to live up to their standards and expectations.


it's all just too overwhelming. every. thing.
and i can feel myself withdrawing, and forgetting how to handle social situations, and forgetting what freedom feels like.
the freest i've felt this week was walking around the school barefoot. still in shackles and chains.
limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits.limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits. limits.

physical, emotional, spiritual, pshycological.
can i break them?

oh you know.

oh, i have learned so much in the past couple of days. more than i can put into words. my heart has grown, and my mind has been opened.

i do not think anyone can fathom how this feels, without going through it themself. i've let go of everything. i've been shocked speechless. i've loved a stranger. i've made life-long promises with a stranger. i've helped some of these people. and they can't possible know how much i was teaching myself as i was speaking to them. to see them thanking me, i don't feel worthy. i'm only fifteen. i know not what to say to some of these secrets. i just say the most comforting, honest things i can think of. but still, i feel the unification. and i feel the need for community and for people to love on eachother.

nothing has ever felt as good as this. nothing.

love.


p.s. i wrote "you are beautiful" sprawled all across the back window of molly's car. it looks wonderful, and i hope people, along with molly, enjoy it. we also plan to tag some cars with it one night. and i need to catch up on my bathroom graffiti since all the stalls were cleaned this summer.

find the determanint of the inverse of....

"i will lead the way, oh, lead the way when i know
and i'll sweep away, oh, sweep away when i don't.
well seize the way, oh, seize the way, no i won't.
i will lead the way, oh, lead the day when i know"

beirut+bike ride+autumn weather+strawberry cupcakes+hazelnut-honey latte=lovely day

not to mention a mini nap in the grass.

it almost cancels out the fact that i'm 96%* sure i failed my math test today. ouch.

(not an exaggeration. but then again, if i did fail, then how would i know what percent anyways)



anxiety does not suit me well.
all my fingernails have been bitten down to the edge, my hair's falling out (even more than usual), and man, you should see my raccoon eyes.


haha, but whatever. it's not like i want a "real" job anyways. i don't want to settle down and "make a living." if all else fails, there's always waitressing. that's what i've learned. not that i'm aiming that low. i just know that i don't want to be doing the same thing everyday. meaning, i don't really want "stability." and really, there is no possible job i would ever do requiring any math level higher than algebra 1 and/or geomotry, a extensive knowledge of history (although i enjoy that), or a background in chemistry. so there. whaattteeevvvaaahh. i've got an alright foundation anyways. but geez, do i hate effing math team. and it is just killing me.
(no real cause of worry. i'm just in a rut. and just stressed. there's no way i'd be a waitress ever again.)

poops to school.
effing matrices.

why not?

Von

changing directions.
slowly but surely.
digging myself out of this rut.


and i just really want to learn Icelandic, and live in a pale teal colored, out of focus world.

well

i am the remainder of your equation. of no true value, and no need. but i'm there. always, every time. ignored and constantly divided up. just set aside, maybe you'll get back to me providing your problem calls for it. no matter any factors, i am there. of multiple values each time. i could be valueless, but i am still there, unseen. but always, i have a limit; i can never be greater than your original value. never. if that ever happens, there was an error in your calculation. so i'm there at the end of the problem, never failing, your remainder. oh and so undesirable. wouldn't it be convenient if i were to just bottom out and let everything else be even. just to let me stand there invisible, silently watching and waiting for the next one to come. remaining.





excuse me, why do you keep looking at me like you know me? tell me, can you see into my eyes? or does your stare just tend to drift into my general direction. but your blank eyes look so full when they meet mine.
of course, your glances mean nothing.
come on and move me.

"broken bluesy whisper, sing to me tonight"


"everyone wants to go forever, i just want to burn up hard and bright"






consider this my call for help.

and i'll consider that your apathy and ignorance.
hope you're satisfied, because i won't play that game.

grey-scale

reading reading reading.
sleeping sleeping sleeping.
dreaming dreaming dreaming.
watching watching watching.
waiting waiting waiting.
listening listening listening.
seeing seeing seeing.

repeat.




but i don't care. i'll sit here in front of this computer's fluorescent tones. and listen to these same 4/4 beats. read over the same words. nothing new, nothing real. nothing i can hold onto.
perhaps tomorrow i'll go downtown and hitch a train, tramp style.
and i don't know, i'd just give anything for a distraction from my grey-scale life.
because something may change, but it's only another shade of grey. and grey will always be grey. never white, not even black, and never any other color. grey. or gray? really, i think the name confusion is the only intersting/exciting thing about grey/gray.

this is my face.

i know that millions of people watch the Olympics, but is it really necessary for a woman competing to wear make-up? really. sure, you could win and then it'll be your moment in the sun, and naturally, you'll want to look and feel good, but bright purple eyeshadow when you're about to run 400m? come on. that just looks a bit unprofessional to me. but whatever, i just notice things like that while watching the games.


sometimes, just sometimes, i hear a song, and it sounds so good and perfect and beautiful.
and sometimes, just sometimes, i listen to it again, and it sounds even better.
and then i wish i could live. live that song's life.


oh, my soul.
tomorrow=cupcakes. my optimism is baked into one single serving frosted baked good. with strawberries, mind you.

calm down

i have been writing everything on stickie notes and sticking them everywhere. i mean everything. from the moment i wake up, i open my eyes and see the first one, "wake up" and i see the second one, "seriously, wake up now." so sometimes i wake up, sometimes i drift back to sleep, but whenever i do open my eyes enough to read more than those two, i see one my ceiling: "thank God you're alive." so i do. and i need that reminder, really, i do. and it helps. i mean, am i really going to ignore a yellow peice of paper? no, because it's not telling me to do anything difficult or out of my way. so i thank Him. along with those, i have other various jewls hanging out: "you aren't dying here", "you are beautiful", "wash your face", "try not to cry today", "no happy fits of rage today, okay?", "read.". sometimes these reminders help me, but they can also annoy me and seem to mock me. but i like them. even though i write them, i feel like someone is giving me instructions to help me live through these years.


sometimes urges come. when i'm so down, and everyone's too loud and fast when they walk past me. and i want to forget this youth. and i want a battle. and i'm lost.
and sometimes urges leave. when i can breathe, and i can feel with all my senses. and i feel needed. and i hear your voice in it's kind, sentimental tone.
then, sometimes i am just scared and hopeful at the same time. and i want to take chances. and i'm not scared. because, what's to be scared of? so you might die? probably not though. so you'll get hurt? you'll grow and heal. so you may get scarred? no one really notices, and anyone who does either doesn't say anything, or cares enough to listen to your story. because we all have stories. and doesn't everyone want to tell the most exciting story they have? but you can only get that story by doing something extravagant. so you know, i'm not scared anymore. maybe i'll fall off the side of a cliff, maybe i'll get sick, maybe i'll lose someone close. but, i'll be okay. i've fallen from heights before, i'm still here. i've been sick, and i'm still here. and i've lost people dear to me, and i'm better than i was before. what do i have to lose?

right?





and i'm not depressed or anything, school just really gets to me. stress and stuff.

~!@#$%^&*()_+

oh happy day!!!!
first, spend 6 hours doing a job i despise, then cried for two hours due to stress caused by the first week of school (i kid you not), worked on schoolwork (including a collage about myself, which included ryan adams[and other people])
and now, i'm listening to The Green Green Grass by American Analog Set, and i decide to check ryan adam's website....and he is blogging again!!!!!!!!!!!ahhhh what a good moment!
i have no life, and get excited about this guy blogging. once again, i have no life.
but i don't care, because now i can read about ryan's day. :)))

i keep going back and forth between Bob Dylan and American Analog Set(both are playing in separate rooms), which is a strange, yet really good combination.


*additional note: i really have some huge fan crush on Ryan Adams. it's bad, and i should just grow up about it, but mmm there is no way i can. i spend too much time searching pictures of him, reading articles about him, and now there's a blog, and i have no life, so it works perfectly.

Southern Research Institute buys Southside's landmark Quinlan Castle and will figure out how to best use the decrepit building.

i was reading the paper today and found out two things.
1. Birmingham's curfew had been changed. 17 and under have to be home before 10 pm except for Saturday on which the curfew is extended to midnight. apparently, the city council is trying to decide on what to do for the first time a child offends the new law. They are thinking of charging the parents $500 the first offense, but they're considering the town's low income families, and so they are trying to change it to just having a written warning on the first offense.

2. SRI bought the Quinlan Castle property. They have 15 years to decide what they will use it for. under the agreement with the city of Birmingham, they have to keep up the facade of the castle, so SRI is considering either making it new laboratories/office space or using it as a steam plant. They plan to begin repairs such as replacing the roof, windows, and doors soon. And they will evaluate the building to see if it is inhabitable and what they will use it for. the city can buy the property back for the same price ($400,000) plus fees the company used to beautify the building. (if you're interested in reading the entire article, you can go to al.com and search for Quinlan Castle in the Birmingham section, and the article will show up)

disappointment.

i love that castle. finally, molly and i found a way to get into it. and now, along with the end of summer, some company has bought it. unbelievable. i'm so crushed. i personally don't care if they keep the exterior the same. the real captivating part is the interior because it is so rundown and yes, vandalized. but it's so haunting and incredible to see appliances like refrigerators, ovens, and televisions decaying in there. as well as seeing what else has been left there from other people that have broken in. i cannot believe i'll probably never get to go in again. i'm just hoping hoping hoping that SRI doesn't start cleaning or putting up better security for a while, because i just have to go back one last time.

disbelief.

take it slow, take it easy on me, shed some light, shed some light on it please

don't. please, don't do this to me. i cannot handle any thing else to go wrong at this point, seeing as my life is a hurricane. i can't. so don't. just...don't, please. i don't want to admit it, but i need you. more than you're aware. i need some stability in my life. you've been there, patient and waiting. and i don't know why you doubt now. i'm sorry if i made you feel any less of who you are. that's why i kept what i did for so long, and why i couldn't find the right words to explain. don't leave me stranded. i just want you next to me, so don't walk away. no, please, don't.
I don't know what to call this.


i've been increasingly people-watching lately. i feel so interested in stranger's lives. in the least weird way of course. i mean, every day, someone has the best day of their life. every day, someone cries out in sorrow. every day, someone is in love. every day, someone is rejected from love. to me, that is some kind of heart ache. sometimes when i read Post Secret or Find of the Day, i feel like i am harboring that person's secret now. but it feels good. it feels personal. i think those websites are great, just because now in the world, it is impersonal and no one wants to get "too close" and that causes some nasty things to happen. i mean, obviously anyone who sends a post card in to Post Secret, cannot tell anyone else. for one reason or another, they have no one they can trust their secret with. and sometimes i read one, and i just can't breathe. it's such an indescribable feeling i get. and i want my life to mean more. and i want to mean more. and i want everyone to mean more to everyone. everyone has a story. stories are no excuses for anything, but still, everyone has one. and i mean there are well over a billion people in this world. imagine all their lives. just thinking about that, and typing it, i am overwhelmed. and i want to know. i want to hear the people's tragedies and the people's ecstasy.

and so instead of writing an essay for English class, i've been reading all the "Finds of the Day".


"The disision I made eats away at my very soul. I do not know how much longer I can standiteach day gets harder and harder. I don't know why it's so hard I know I did what I thought was right. This most likely the most embarassing part about it... I can't stop dreaming about you. I try to think of anyone or anything else. I can't get you out of my mind. I don't even know why I'mm writing this I'm never going to give it to you. I"

raw regret and heartache. gosh.

RSS

hello, my name's katharine, and i have Restless Soul Syndrome. it is quite a serious problem. you see, i can't sleep at night and cannot focus during the day do to my soul aching and yearning to move and see the earth. this is caused by a number of things: stress, a feeling of captivity and longing, a knowledge of a better life than what one already has, or it is a disorder one is born with. the only way to relieve the symptoms is to see the beauty of this earth we live on, and breathe it all in. if not treated soon, one will resort to drastic measures such as angst, moodiness, writing what one feels and perhaps accompianing it with some music, performing some art form to relieve the yearning, ect.

i feel it all

mmm, i am so in love with this video.

i can't wait for winter, and to breathe in the crisp, lung-chilling air that awakens every nerve in my body. i can't wait to run in that air and gasp for breath which just ends up further freezing my airways. that feeling makes me feel alive and awake. and i can't wait.

no hold

everything is out of my control at this point.
i have no foothold on anything. no grasp on anything.
it's all just spinning around me.

except one thing. and i can't believe it, but i'm holding on. i won't let go this time. i just pray you won't fall out from under me like before.

i'm sick of saying goodbye. goodbye's to friends, goodbye to summer... i dread the day i have to say goodbye to my sister when she and her family move.

why do i cry about the future?

bittersweet day

started off good.
-urban standard
-what's on 2nd?
-took some photos around my backyard and my neighbor's yard and house.
-sat outside in the rain shower
-listened to new CDs
and then it took a turn for the worse.
i forgot i had to press this one button on my camera before winding it backwards, so i thought the film was stuck or something so i opened it and of course, that means the film was exposed, and then it just exploded and the whole 5 feet or whatever of film came out and it's just ruined. which really upset me because i was excited to develop that roll. so i ran around my house yelling profanities and attempted strangling myself with the film. but then the rage subsided to sadness and i just sat moping around, staring longingly at the film and trying to come up with another creative way to use it.
and then i just decided, if you fall off the horse, you have to climb back on. so i put new film in my camera and took some more pictures. which is exciting because the film has been expired for 13 years, and i am interested to see how that will turn out. so i'll probably get that developed tomorrow. if none of the pictures turn out, then oh well, i've suffered bigger losses (see above).
i shouldn't care so much? but i do. i can't help it. i know i would've had some really good pictures from the roll that screwed up. plus it was a big roll, 36 exposures. but it's my fault. get over it katharine.


not to mention i saw two ghosts of my past today walking down the street. i really hope they are enjoying their lives. truly, i do. i hope that they LIKE the fact that they are fake and phony. i hope they are comfortable with the fact that they are superficial and shallow. and i hope they take solace in the fact that they are both terrible friends and no one sticks around for long. so long as you both like that, then you'll have all the satisfaction you'll ever need.

in hindsight, there is not one single solitary thing i miss. and that's the truth.

god's #1

ben folds, babies, bookcards, band pictures.
alliteration and asofterworld.

that's been my day so far.

my sister said she say a extremely nice BMW on the road the other day, and the license plate read, "GODS FAV".
nobody ever become that type of person, k?

what i'm trying to say

school year hasn't even started and i feel like i need a break.
i will have one last, good adventure before August 11th.

just looking around my room i hate everything; my carpet, my walls, clothes strewn about, random pieces of trash i picked up on walks and have no idea what to do with. i mean, i love everything in my room, i just need something new.
i miss my typewriter.
i need a bookshelf.
i need more polaroid film.

if anyone is ever at a loss what to buy me for a gift or whatever, some polaroid film would be lovely.

"but mom, i feel like painting, not doing bookcards."

i really like to believe that SOS stands for save our souls. nobody tell me otherwise, please.

maybe a haircut would be a nice change. even if it isn't, why not? it's just hair.

you said you'd wait, and when i tell you that there's no need for you to wait anymore, you walk away? would you like to wait another four years? i cannot keep playing this game if that's what you want. you know that i don't wait like you do. you know.

she's trying to rekindle a fire that had burned out a long time ago. but i took the ashes and remains from the fire and tossed them in the creek behind my house. there is nothing left binding us together. i'll never ask you to come back, i'll never grant your request for me to come back. you made a wrong move, and i'm walking away from the game. you can take the pieces, make a memrobilia, do whatever you please. just don't tell me when you miss me, don't tell me that you think we could be okay. i'm glad you feel like you can't look at me. i don't want you to. i hate feeling your eyes picking out my every fiber and analyzing me. just know, i'm not going to grant your wish. do what you please, just don't include me.


mm, random post that turned into ranting. apologies.

insert pick-up line here

"Make awkward sexual advances, not war."

that, hands down, is the best of those "make ____, not war" phrases i've ever heard. i really would like that as a shirt/bumper sticker/something of that sort. perhaps a coffee mug?

but i'm sure my mother would disapprove.

http://freewayfortunecookie.blogspot.com/

oh me, oh my. these girls are truly wonderful. i love their ideals.

kara and i did something similar to this once, we sat in downtown homewood with a sign that said "you are beautiful". i'm sure not a lot of people saw it because it wasn't written terribly big like their signs. but i would like to think that someone saw it, and it helped them. i'm inspired. and will probably make more signs and hold them up so drivers/bikers/folks on foot can read them.

incedentally, i am reading Sylvia Plath's unabbriged journals. good stuff. the woman writes with such visuality. and she's so honest. it seems like every woman should be like her. i mean, to me atleast, she seems like the ideal woman. which is a little weird, but it's better than idolizing some actress who thinks they can make it as a singer as long as they collaberate with the right record producer.

the world is not a cold dead place.

ooohh i am overwhelmed. i am amazed.
can't quite think straight right now, i'm just so captivated by everything.
this is it. this is it. this is it.
this is it.
my mind cannot really function when i start thinking along those lines. it goes haywire. everything starts running around at record-breaking speeds and it's all jumbled up. i'm not ready. i'm so ready. i am excited and i am dread. but this is it. i'm doing the best i can. i wish it were simpler, but it's really just myself that complicates anything. nothing is even bothering me besides the fact that time needs to move faster and slower. at the same time, which would mean that time needs to run at it's normal pace. which it is. so what's the problem? i don't know. i'm just restless and i need to be moving and i need to be laying still.
i am contradiction.


but you said you would wait. you said. you will wait. and i'm lucky. lucky that you spoke up(when i didn't have words), lucky that you're patient(when i can't even wait for myself), lucky that you aren't scared(when i am frightened).
who wrote this? surely this isn't just life playing itself out. too. good. too. be true.

be the change you want

it goes without saying, but i'll say it anyways:
wild sweet orange was so, so good last night. what a great night.

i feel so lucky and blessed to be a part of their experience. or atleast be able to witness it. i think there's just something about their band that is so personal and allows people to connect so easily with their music. listening to their album, i'm proud of them, but it could be a lot better. i think it's just because their live shows have so much energy and to just hear a studio recording bums me out. but hey, congratulations to them for putting out their first album and becoming so recognized. i mean, letterman, esquire... they are hitting the big time i feel like.

though i have to point out: i was recognized in the Thank You's in the album sleeve. kind of. they thank the Buckley's. which essentially is just my brother, dad, and me. and my mom i suppose, although she is a Slade now.



in other news, this life is great. i am living. i am alive. and it feels better than i ever imagined.

the ghost of you lingers

it's strange to see people i care about go on living without me. to see them getting on with their life and watching them move on.
but it feels good to know that i'm getting along without all the people i left.

roughly 17 days left of my summer.
i have two sets of bookcards to do and one and a half books to read.
why did i wait? why do i always wait?
procrastination is a sickness.

Stars is sounding pretty good right now.

on the road

i miss being on the road (or in the sky if you want to get technical). but i really miss traveling.
although last month was stressful packing, flying (with a baby), unpacking, packing, flying again (with the same baby, only a week older). unpacking, and repeat. minus the baby this time. and i always end up missing people. but i'm feeling extremely restless. i really want to go on another trip. i was just reading an old article in the new york times about various hiking trails in the south and i desperately wish my parents would allow me to go on just a weekend hiking trip. i would even settle going with my family. i just want to pack up and go for a while.
even though i have still been packing almost every weekend, but that is only to go across town to stay with my dad. not what i'm yearning for.
well, at least next summer i'm going to europe. only 11 months to go.

don't stray

and each day just keeps getting better and better.
and i'm reminded that every day is one day less.
and i can't quit thinking about how much i'll miss this summer.
and how much i'm going to miss new friends.
and i hate school and so many people there.
and i am scared.
and i am not ready.
wait.

i can do this. day by day. i'll take my time.

Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust

this new Sigur Rós album is so, so good. it makes my soul feel good.
and the music video for "Gobbledigook" is probably one of the best music videos. my favorite without a question. it's on youtube, but you can't watch it if you're under 18. but it's also on their website. plus it's better quality on their website anyways. go watch it.

man, this is good music. i wish i knew Icelandic so i knew the lyrics. but then again, their music doesn't even need recognizable words, it's beautiful enough without understanding the lyrics.

now it's smoke.

"you keep saying the past is not dead,
well stop and smell the smoke"



my best pair of headphones have blown out.
and my computer's speakers are about to, too.

i started playing my piano again today after a few weeks of absence. i have finally gotten down the few songs i had been trying to get. now i need to find new ones to work on..

i'm making themed mix CDs again. i had honestly forgotten how much i truly missed making each playlist carefully and taking time to find the right songs and put them in the perfect order. i think this is a good "therepy" for me.
never under estimate a good mix.

if anyone wants one or has a suggestion for a theme, let me know.
also, if anyone's selling an ipod, let me know.

You have all the prayers of my loose heart.

"no but i, i won't hold you anymore
no and i, i can't have you anymore"

Don't come.

let me push another movie onto all of you:
Czech Dream.
i really can't explain it without giving away a lot of details, but i promise within the first 5 minutes, it's all explained anyways, but i won't spoil the end or anything.
it is a true story. this is a documentary of it.
two guys are in film school and this was their final project.
they create a hypermarket(a supermarket just bigger) and put out ads, commercials, everything that a normal store would do for promotion. they hire graphic designers and advertising agencies. i mean, the real deal. but, there is no store. they just build the front wall. so they want to see how many people will get hyped up and come to the grand opening of the make-believe store.
it's incredible interesting and amusing. i mean, it's slightly different because they're in the Czech Republic, so i know the outcome would be different in America. but it would be like all the hype for the iPhone and people will sit outside all night for one. but in this movie, there would be no iPhone. and everyone just waited for nothing.
i strongly suggest this movie. and it really did happen. it was in 2003.


summer is running out.
i need to work on my assignments.
i'm sadly behind.
along with the school year creeping up, so is insomnia.
i really hate not being able to fall asleep.
but, along with insomnia comes writing. i find myself writing some decent pieces in the early morning hours.
let's hope the inspiration lasts, but more sleep comes.


also, new musical obsession: m. ward

essentials

i love lists.
this is by far, my favorite list of all time.

List of Essentials
by Jack Kerouac

1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2. Submissive to everything, open, listening
3. Try never get drunk outside your own house
4. Be in love with your life
5. Something that you feel will find its own form
6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7. Blow as deep as you want to blow
8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual
10. No time for poetry but exactly what is
11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest
12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time
15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17. Write in recollection and amazement for yrself
18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
19. Accept loss forever
20. Believe in the holy contour of life
21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
22. Don't think of words when you stop but to see picture better
23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
29. You're a Genius all the time
30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

i have a typewritten copy of this list that i take everywhere with me. i tend to just re-read it when i'm bored or need inspiration.
lately, i've forgotten about it and i remembered it tonight. and i fell in love all over again. with this list, with Kerouac. i would read On the Road again, but i lent it out. so i started to read Satori in Paris again. i think one of my greatest wishes would be to meet him. it's like when people ask "who would you want to eat dinner with dead or alive" or something like that, i would pick Kerouac. he is a wonder.

Hpv, chicken pox, hep A, ect.

i went to the doctor's office today and received five shots. i walked in there under the impression i was only getting one. but no. i got 5. and a finger prick. but see, it wouldn't be as big of a deal, except i HATE shots. and they make me feel incredible faint. even just seeing other people get them. and after i got the 5th one everything started getting tingly and tunnleing. and i couldn't hear anything except my own breathing which it started becoming hard to breathe.
and the nurse giving to me was very old. which scared me. i mean, i would be scared to have a really young nurse of course. but this woman's voice shaked so i was just scared. and after the shots she said she could tell when people were about to faint by looking at them, which was a lie because i was about to and she said i wasn't.
also, there was a kid in the other room who may or may not have been doing a Bill Cosby impression, but he was spot-on either way. hilarious.

Bitter (adj.):

1. characterized by intense antagonism or hostility

how appropriate that i am defining "Negative (Anger)" terms right now.
this is the only time i have been thankful or slightly enjoyed my summer work.

seven hilarious things about Miley Cyrus's new music video

what have teenage girls become? what are they going to become?
describing the relationship as "awesome".
oh but the REALLY funny things that got me:
1. the "shut up" whispers
2. the fact that when she counts off before the song starts, she's off.
3. her voice does not even sound good in some parts. the record producers' computers are losing their touch apparently.
4. "if you text it, i'll delete it"
5. the seven things are incredibly vague.
6. how the video/song is attempting to be punk or whatever. good lord. c'mon. stick to pop.
7. lastly, it just automatically makes me laugh when i hear 15-year-olds say they are in love.

HA! i sure did need this. thank you Miley Cyrus for the good laugh, thank you.

rest in peices

a brilliant light disturbs my darkness
quickly i learn it is my phone
my hopes rise...
but it was just notifying me that my battery is low.


bitterness.

Does anybody want to take me home?

oh, ryan adams, oh. you, sir, could sing for me all my life and i would never ask you to pause.
i cannot seem to separate myself from his music.
current ryan adams obsession song: "touch, feel, & lose"



as for postsecret this week, i was pleased.
especially for this secret.
i thought i was the only one.
it's always nice to know you are not alone...without even having to say anything.

my thoughts keep running in my head.
they fall, exasperated.
defeated just by the single thought of you.

let me go.
come and find me.

steps for feeling sorry for yourself

1. find object of affection
2. pine after said object of affection
3. pursue him or her
4. become saddened by thinking the feelings are left un-returned
5. feel hopeless
6. try to gain hope, but find trouble
7. pay more attention and realize feelings may be returned
8. become hopeful
9. become sure of yourself
10. find happiness
11. find solace.
12. think you're lucky
13. bliss
14. start to think object of affection not so great
15. explain thoughts to friends
16. listen to friends' advice that you do care about object of affection
17. begin to lack hope again
18. have a good night with him or her
19. gain hope
20. notice things and realize, they truly aren't so great.
21. put it past you
22. feel good
23. realize that said flaws are major flaws.
24. remind yourself, everyone is flawed.
25. stay put until further instruction...




damn it.

Kath?

"Cath, she stands with a well-intentioned man
but she can't relax with his hand on the small of her back
and as the flash bulbs burst
she holds a smile like someone would hold a crying child

soon everybody will ask what became of you
cause your heart was dying fast, and you didn't know what to do

Cath, it seems that you live in someone else's dream
in a hand-me-down wedding dress
where the things that could have been are oppressed
but you said your vows, and you closed the door
on so many men who would have loved you more

soon everybody will ask what became of you
cause your heart was dying fast, and you didn't know what to do

the whispers that it won't last go up and down the pews
but if their hearts were dying that fast,
they'd have done the same as you
and i'd have done the same as you"


i'm so frightened that will happen to me one day. just the fact that this song's subject's name is Cath, obviously a nick-name for Catherine, is almost some cruel trick. out of all the names...i almost see it as a sign. i really am so scared of ending up with someone and not being happy or loved. or not loving them.

yesterday at work there was an old couple that came in.
the women was perfectly healthy, but the man had some sort of brain damage.
he had trouble talking and was drooling in his lap.
but this women loved him. i could just tell.
that is love. i want to find that.
i mean how many of you would still love your partner each day even if you had to help them order brunch? even if you had to wipe their drool of their face? even if they couldn't carry on a conversation with you?
that's the thing that gets me. i mean, to not even talk to someone but you still love them?
amazing.
and obviously this was a woman who's lived her life and there's no telling how long those 2 were together, but i still, one day, want someone to love me that much. and i want to love someone that much in return.
i'm aware i won't find that at age 15.
obviously.
but, you know, one day.

For a pessimist I'm pretty optimistic

and now, history repeats itself.

and the same songs mean the same things
they stir up emotions i had not quite forgotten
i'm feeling the same anger, the same bitterness.
the same circumstances, the same losses.

how am i expected to put up with this twice?
honestly.
how does lightning strike in the same place twice?




and to think, i thought i had learned my lesson.
Ha.

this too shall pass.

they say you learn from your pain.
they say there's a reason for everything.
they say this too shall pass.

but what if you don't?
what if there isn't?
and what if it doesn't?



i need something, anything.
someone, anyone.

bob dylan was here.

i awoke this morning, in a terrible state. feelings from last night were never settled. confused, upset, lacking hope, and feeling abandoned, i reluctently got out of my bed. the first thing i see when my eyes hit the floor is a torn, mangled peice of paper with just three words on it...
(don't get your hopes up, this story is not a happy one)
in the bottom right-hand corner there, typed, were the words, "i'm not there."
this hit me. hard. especially considering i have no earthly idea where the paper came from. i had recently bought the soundtrack to the movie, i'm not there, but there was no way that paper was from the packaging. no way. i had not printed such a document. so the question remains, where did the painstakingly truthfull paper come from?
maybe i will never know.
but i think i prefer it that way.











and incase you were wondering, it was torn and crumpled thanks to my dog, willow...at least that seemed the logical explination.