So yesterday was an interesting day. I recorded for about four hours and got four more songs done. Twelve takes of "Only in America" and still no cut. That sucks.
After that, I saw Steve for the first time since May or something ridiculous like that. We escaped my house and went to this place I've never heard of called Paradise Grill and I got chicken wings. Then we returned to my house and attended one of my family's crazyness dinners.
I showed him my songs and he liked them a lot. Around 10:00 Mark showed up. Soon after that, Steve departed, since he was tired and had been here for about six hours.
Mark dragged me to Starbucks as usual and made me get something, so I got this disgusting tea that I didn't drink. Amazingly, we didn't run into anyone we knew at all. After that, we decided to go to the park, so we went back to my house to pick up my coat and cell phone.
The park was great! We went on the swings and discussed romantic experiences because he didn't think that I was the swinging type because it seems like the kind of thing I would be too scared of (due to heights). I also got pushed on the swings for the first time since I'm about six. That was awesome! It feels really good to be pushed. I'd forgotten, but as soon as he started, I remembered.
We went on slides and that was scary and somehow he got me to sit on top of this scary, high, slippery thing on top of the slide. After that, we went stargazing for a while and that was nice for me because I hardly ever get to anymore.
When we were leaving, two police cars showed up and we ran for it and Mark had a seizure over it. He's crazy about cops. It was SO funny. My coat got caught in the door and then he had to stop eventually to let it out and close the door. He made a few U-turns to get away from the police and we eventually ended up in Waffle House along with all these scuzzes. So I guess we blended in well, police-wise. We would be the last candidates for illegal activity in that place. Full of yutzes.
It was fun. Except he wouldn't come inside afterwards and watch Deliverance with me!
"Return the movie, Tali. I'm NEVER GOING TO WATCH IT!"
The hell he's not. One day....One DAY!!!
Hmmm...That's all I can think of.
Today was boring. I bought my textbooks for school for $150 instead of $500. Isn't that great? YES IT IS. And read more of As a Driven Leaf which is a great book. Aah, how I love heresy and heretics. (And how I'm one of them.) Hung out with my family. That's about it. One of those lazy days.
And a week before everyone leaves and goes back to school, leaving me alone for a week. :-(
I talked to James yesterday, though. He said I speak very eloquently, even online, and that after days of frying his brain on television, our conversation was greatly refreshing. Oh, James. You rock.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
I want to capture the moment. So take myself out of the picture. I can't really do that, I don't think. But all I am is a magnet for some channeled wanton I can't quite make out for the shadows.
People standing in a line, and soon the restlessness sets in so the cigarettes appear and consume the line in a cloud of poison that feels good to some and kills everyone else quickly. They laugh and look off into the distance sometimes, thinking of the familiar in the face of forced cordiality with strangers. The rain sets in. I didn't notice. The rain doesn't fall on me. I've noticed this a lot. The rain won't fall on me. As if a hole in the sky follows me around in order to keep me dry. But I like the rain, so I hold out my hands and the crowd looks at me and thinks I'm crazy.
They turn toward the wall, huddled under the awning. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The times ticks on, moves on but the o'clock we want lags along, won't ever reach us. The world will end before the time comes, won't it? is the general thought among the people of the line. The smoke grows thicker and a man asks if it bothers anyone. One man burns cloves, the others, tobacco. I enjoy the smell of one and choke on both.
The endless waiting. This is how most of the time is spent for us. Endless waiting for pointless trivialities that make the world go 'round. I join the huddle and press myself against the wall. The smoke is gone.
The wall is a window. I stare at myself in the window without realizing it and wonder why she's staring at me. What is it? I ask her but her lips move in time with mine and I realize that it's only me. I turn away.
The line moves. The time has arrived and in no time at all, we're in, we're out. I go back to my room, collapse. There it is. The emptiness trembling in anticipation of being filled up again. It won't come, though. I feel it coming but it won't come. Will it be years? Decades? Please, don't let it be years. Fill it up.
For the meantime, seek refuge. I seek refuge in the inspiration of everyone else. Hide away to find a bit of what you lost and suddenly you're not hidden at all. You're out in the open and the whole world's different but really exactly the same. Fiction binds me and I see the truth in it. Maybe I'll find the lie eventually. I need to find the lie. And then I can see past it all into what has come and gone in recurring waves of cunning, prodding me on along its path.
There it is. I won't search for truth. It tells me nothing. I must find the lie. The lie. Tell me the lie.
Ok, ok. it says. I will tell you the lie.
People standing in a line, and soon the restlessness sets in so the cigarettes appear and consume the line in a cloud of poison that feels good to some and kills everyone else quickly. They laugh and look off into the distance sometimes, thinking of the familiar in the face of forced cordiality with strangers. The rain sets in. I didn't notice. The rain doesn't fall on me. I've noticed this a lot. The rain won't fall on me. As if a hole in the sky follows me around in order to keep me dry. But I like the rain, so I hold out my hands and the crowd looks at me and thinks I'm crazy.
They turn toward the wall, huddled under the awning. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The times ticks on, moves on but the o'clock we want lags along, won't ever reach us. The world will end before the time comes, won't it? is the general thought among the people of the line. The smoke grows thicker and a man asks if it bothers anyone. One man burns cloves, the others, tobacco. I enjoy the smell of one and choke on both.
The endless waiting. This is how most of the time is spent for us. Endless waiting for pointless trivialities that make the world go 'round. I join the huddle and press myself against the wall. The smoke is gone.
The wall is a window. I stare at myself in the window without realizing it and wonder why she's staring at me. What is it? I ask her but her lips move in time with mine and I realize that it's only me. I turn away.
The line moves. The time has arrived and in no time at all, we're in, we're out. I go back to my room, collapse. There it is. The emptiness trembling in anticipation of being filled up again. It won't come, though. I feel it coming but it won't come. Will it be years? Decades? Please, don't let it be years. Fill it up.
For the meantime, seek refuge. I seek refuge in the inspiration of everyone else. Hide away to find a bit of what you lost and suddenly you're not hidden at all. You're out in the open and the whole world's different but really exactly the same. Fiction binds me and I see the truth in it. Maybe I'll find the lie eventually. I need to find the lie. And then I can see past it all into what has come and gone in recurring waves of cunning, prodding me on along its path.
There it is. I won't search for truth. It tells me nothing. I must find the lie. The lie. Tell me the lie.
Ok, ok. it says. I will tell you the lie.
On the Rebound...possibly?
Fortune caught me crying
Caught me weeping
For those decades long gone
When I wasn't born
I thought I knew about time
gone awry
Now I laugh at my own naivete
I never knew a thing at all
The people look for peace
and the race looks for war
Overpopulation self cleaning job
So we get caught in the mob mentality
Fortune's got us all on the rebound
As our souls fly high and our bodies hit the ground
You better give it up
Before it's too late
Before it's too late
Fall in love with the mirror
But you've already found another
So go down
on the lovers--make them mothers
And cry
til you slam your face in the door
the fists got on
and the hearts hit the floor
Want to change the world
So put on your mask
and go
It's about high time
Fortune's got it coming
for the fathers and the mothers
and the teenaged lovers
and the city's turned to a ghost town
Caught me weeping
For those decades long gone
When I wasn't born
I thought I knew about time
gone awry
Now I laugh at my own naivete
I never knew a thing at all
The people look for peace
and the race looks for war
Overpopulation self cleaning job
So we get caught in the mob mentality
Fortune's got us all on the rebound
As our souls fly high and our bodies hit the ground
You better give it up
Before it's too late
Before it's too late
Fall in love with the mirror
But you've already found another
So go down
on the lovers--make them mothers
And cry
til you slam your face in the door
the fists got on
and the hearts hit the floor
Want to change the world
So put on your mask
and go
It's about high time
Fortune's got it coming
for the fathers and the mothers
and the teenaged lovers
and the city's turned to a ghost town
Search for Ithaca
Everything is pain and everyone knows it. And artists go around finding original ways to convey the same message over and over again. Sometimes they pretend it's all pretty. But the world isn't pretty, was never pretty. Not really. Isn't there anything else to humanity? We're all run out? Or is this the question to ponder forevermore? As it's been foreverpast?
It's not the answers, I think. It's the questions without answers. We find an answer and produce more questions because we're never satisfied with the universe. No matter how big or small. So why can't we just shut up and live? Unfortunately, humans surprise themselves somteimes and prove to have somewhat of a mind by thinking too much.
I don't know. Nothing else seems to care why. Just that. It makes us neither weaker nor stronger, just pointless.
Perhaps I am an existentialist. Would I choose to do it all over again if given the chance? No. I don't think so. Not all over. I'd choose to keep going. To learn more, to discover more. To ask more questions. So I can know more and therefore less. So I can grasp more of how insignificant I am to the universe, how my life means nothing to it all, and therefore, makes it that much more worthwhile because it's only for myself.
So, for ego. That's what it's all about. We live and die for our selfish egos, preaching equality and righteousness, pretending to reach out for it. "For the good of Humanity." We'll never get there. We don't want to. And how could we? To each his own.
It's not the answers, I think. It's the questions without answers. We find an answer and produce more questions because we're never satisfied with the universe. No matter how big or small. So why can't we just shut up and live? Unfortunately, humans surprise themselves somteimes and prove to have somewhat of a mind by thinking too much.
I don't know. Nothing else seems to care why. Just that. It makes us neither weaker nor stronger, just pointless.
Perhaps I am an existentialist. Would I choose to do it all over again if given the chance? No. I don't think so. Not all over. I'd choose to keep going. To learn more, to discover more. To ask more questions. So I can know more and therefore less. So I can grasp more of how insignificant I am to the universe, how my life means nothing to it all, and therefore, makes it that much more worthwhile because it's only for myself.
So, for ego. That's what it's all about. We live and die for our selfish egos, preaching equality and righteousness, pretending to reach out for it. "For the good of Humanity." We'll never get there. We don't want to. And how could we? To each his own.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Current Thought--in debt to Jonathan Larson
"Without You"
Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.
Withoutyou, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play.
The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.
The earth turns, the sun burns, but I die, without you.
Without you, the stars roar, the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you.
The world revives, colors renew,
but I know blue, only blue, lonely blue, within me blue.
Without you.
Without you the hand gropes, the ear hears, the pulse beats.
Without you the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe.
The mind churns!
The mind churns!
The heart yearns!
The heart yearns!
The tears dry, without you. Life goes on, but I'm gone.
Cause I die, without you.
Without you.
Without you.
Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.
Withoutyou, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play.
The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.
The earth turns, the sun burns, but I die, without you.
Without you, the stars roar, the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you.
The world revives, colors renew,
but I know blue, only blue, lonely blue, within me blue.
Without you.
Without you the hand gropes, the ear hears, the pulse beats.
Without you the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe.
The mind churns!
The mind churns!
The heart yearns!
The heart yearns!
The tears dry, without you. Life goes on, but I'm gone.
Cause I die, without you.
Without you.
Without you.
Monday, December 26, 2005
That bitch. So, if anyone has any spare floor space, tell me and I'm moving in.
Of course everything is my fault as usual. And I'm the worst person in the known world. And the bitchiest brattiest fucker who ever lived. I think I'll go kill myself now because that'll make everyone happier.
And I won't have to take up any floor space.
Oh, and you can cremate me while you're at it. That way I won't take up any space at all.
Of course everything is my fault as usual. And I'm the worst person in the known world. And the bitchiest brattiest fucker who ever lived. I think I'll go kill myself now because that'll make everyone happier.
And I won't have to take up any floor space.
Oh, and you can cremate me while you're at it. That way I won't take up any space at all.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Rising
Love confuses me. I say I don't trust it. I say I never have. Yet I watch as everyone around me falls and falls and find myself wondering what makes it so wonderful. Maybe I already know. I asked my best friend about it yesterday. He didn't know either.
I think I feel it most in a crowd, when the love is most noticeable. And I'm content with only my friends. Right? Right? Yes. It's all I ever wanted. All I ever needed. Yet the other kind of love intrigues me. I stand alone, but I have my friends. So I'm not alone at all. And another friend of mine told me that I have to take a step back from myself and look at it all. "It's crap you don't know what it is. You've been there longer than any of us. And you know it. You've been in love for years and years. You're the only one who can't see it."
So I guess it's true about not knowing yourself at all.
I sing along with myself because there's no one else to sing with anymore. The crowd begins to sing along with me and the movement grows louder and stronger and I get caught up in the art all over again. I'll dislcaim it all.
"Yes, I'm in love, have been in love, will always be in love--with that madness. With those words. With that tune."
But it's a lie. I would have none of it without that other love. And why are we so caught up in being in love in the first place? Isn't just loving enough? And does it make a difference? Recently, someone told me that being in love is just extreme love of a friend. But I don't see a difference. I think I have all I've ever wanted right now. Nothing is missing, except the lack of distance.
Remember?. . . Life's a manipulative kind of guy.
I think I feel it most in a crowd, when the love is most noticeable. And I'm content with only my friends. Right? Right? Yes. It's all I ever wanted. All I ever needed. Yet the other kind of love intrigues me. I stand alone, but I have my friends. So I'm not alone at all. And another friend of mine told me that I have to take a step back from myself and look at it all. "It's crap you don't know what it is. You've been there longer than any of us. And you know it. You've been in love for years and years. You're the only one who can't see it."
So I guess it's true about not knowing yourself at all.
I sing along with myself because there's no one else to sing with anymore. The crowd begins to sing along with me and the movement grows louder and stronger and I get caught up in the art all over again. I'll dislcaim it all.
"Yes, I'm in love, have been in love, will always be in love--with that madness. With those words. With that tune."
But it's a lie. I would have none of it without that other love. And why are we so caught up in being in love in the first place? Isn't just loving enough? And does it make a difference? Recently, someone told me that being in love is just extreme love of a friend. But I don't see a difference. I think I have all I've ever wanted right now. Nothing is missing, except the lack of distance.
Remember?. . . Life's a manipulative kind of guy.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Oh, How I Love Wireless
Wireless internet is the best invention ever. Yes, I'm lying on my bed typing this. Talking to Lindsay and debating whether to watch a movie, keep on chatting, or continue reading My Name is Asher Lev. What do you think?
Hmm...Decisions, decisions.
I saw Lindsay today! It was great, but too short. As usual. I also saw Kienan for the first time in over a year. Which is ridiculous. He had to leave in less than an hour, too, which sucked. Oh well. And I still haven't gotten Katrin back from that redheaded dolt! "I'll call you later." Yeah. Sure.
Aaah. It's all right. I'm not angry. Of course he's going to say that. What else is to be expected of him? The unreliability is the most reliable thing about him, sure to endure for all eternity. (I would have said the most reliable thing is the red hair but unfortunately, hair is wont to fall out and turn white after awhile, so I stuck with his unreliability.)
Anyhow, I guess I'll read a little more of Asher and then go watch the movie.
That's all for now. Can't wait to get out of this house. I can't take it. I'm not meant to live with parents any longer.
Hmm...Decisions, decisions.
I saw Lindsay today! It was great, but too short. As usual. I also saw Kienan for the first time in over a year. Which is ridiculous. He had to leave in less than an hour, too, which sucked. Oh well. And I still haven't gotten Katrin back from that redheaded dolt! "I'll call you later." Yeah. Sure.
Aaah. It's all right. I'm not angry. Of course he's going to say that. What else is to be expected of him? The unreliability is the most reliable thing about him, sure to endure for all eternity. (I would have said the most reliable thing is the red hair but unfortunately, hair is wont to fall out and turn white after awhile, so I stuck with his unreliability.)
Anyhow, I guess I'll read a little more of Asher and then go watch the movie.
That's all for now. Can't wait to get out of this house. I can't take it. I'm not meant to live with parents any longer.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
I Bid New Orleans Adieu
Recorded four new songs today. And redid "Blueprints" because I didn't like that awful gag sound at the beginning.
Iquo's home now and sitting across from me. It's nice to have her home with everyone else. Sam is making a cheese sauce for pasta and I'm making pasta. Dad's at the gym, Iquo's making vegetables and Noah's on the computer downstairs.
I finally got the stupid wireless working. Stupid Comcast.
Listening to myself singing "Lakes of Pontchartrain." I love that song. What's weird is that Iquo says my voice sounds totally different she didn't even recognize it. (Singing voice, that is.) I tried calling Lindsay today but she didn't answer and last night she signed off-line a bit depressed, so I couldn't see her today. :-( I'm not doing anything tomorrow as far as I know unless my mother makes me go to work or something. Friday and Saturday I'm seeing Mark for at least one of those days and then Sunday...KATE! I'm seeing KATE! That's exciting. :-D
My parents bought Noah a drum set. Let's see how that goes with Mom. Ugh. Glad I won't be around. She had an explosion over who the fuck knows what today. Now she's being bitchy and making us cater her food up to her in her bedroom "because I'm sick of everyone and their fucking shit" as she put it before in the kitchen and screamed at me for who the fuck knows what reason. I was making her fucking dinner.
I hate being at home. I can't wait to get back to school. And I'll probably move in with Kate if it gets any worse.
Iquo's home now and sitting across from me. It's nice to have her home with everyone else. Sam is making a cheese sauce for pasta and I'm making pasta. Dad's at the gym, Iquo's making vegetables and Noah's on the computer downstairs.
I finally got the stupid wireless working. Stupid Comcast.
Listening to myself singing "Lakes of Pontchartrain." I love that song. What's weird is that Iquo says my voice sounds totally different she didn't even recognize it. (Singing voice, that is.) I tried calling Lindsay today but she didn't answer and last night she signed off-line a bit depressed, so I couldn't see her today. :-( I'm not doing anything tomorrow as far as I know unless my mother makes me go to work or something. Friday and Saturday I'm seeing Mark for at least one of those days and then Sunday...KATE! I'm seeing KATE! That's exciting. :-D
My parents bought Noah a drum set. Let's see how that goes with Mom. Ugh. Glad I won't be around. She had an explosion over who the fuck knows what today. Now she's being bitchy and making us cater her food up to her in her bedroom "because I'm sick of everyone and their fucking shit" as she put it before in the kitchen and screamed at me for who the fuck knows what reason. I was making her fucking dinner.
I hate being at home. I can't wait to get back to school. And I'll probably move in with Kate if it gets any worse.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Remain
I recorded four songs today:
Paul
Extra-Ordinary Piece
Halleluyah Sweet Clementine
Blueprints (Charlie)
They sound...amazing. Incredible. And they're not even mixed properly yet or anything. I have Extra-Ordinary Piece playing on repeat. Because I love it so much. And I can't believe it's me singing. And it sounds soooo good.
There are technical difficulties with Iquo getting home, so I called Mark but he didn't answer and I have a feeling he's not going to because I'm an awful idiot bitch. We'll have to find some way to get her here...I just don't know though.
Hopefully he'll call me back. And hopefully he'll still be around. But I'm not counting on that anymore.
Does anyone have a car? And damn it! He has my Katrin story!
My mind is everywhere now. I have to get off this and not think about it. I never should have gotten a best friend. I should have stayed home that day and died. I should have died.
But here I am. Here I am. Alive. Loving life. And now I'm a selfish artist wasting the space around her. And ruining the people I care about the most.
I should have stayed home.
Paul
Extra-Ordinary Piece
Halleluyah Sweet Clementine
Blueprints (Charlie)
They sound...amazing. Incredible. And they're not even mixed properly yet or anything. I have Extra-Ordinary Piece playing on repeat. Because I love it so much. And I can't believe it's me singing. And it sounds soooo good.
There are technical difficulties with Iquo getting home, so I called Mark but he didn't answer and I have a feeling he's not going to because I'm an awful idiot bitch. We'll have to find some way to get her here...I just don't know though.
Hopefully he'll call me back. And hopefully he'll still be around. But I'm not counting on that anymore.
Does anyone have a car? And damn it! He has my Katrin story!
My mind is everywhere now. I have to get off this and not think about it. I never should have gotten a best friend. I should have stayed home that day and died. I should have died.
But here I am. Here I am. Alive. Loving life. And now I'm a selfish artist wasting the space around her. And ruining the people I care about the most.
I should have stayed home.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Today at Home
So I wake up at 8:30 today and put away all my things. Eventually I discovered that I left my notebook at school! Can you believe that?!? That's RIDICULOUS. Well, I have the new one with me, so I suppose there will be a little glitch in the chronology.
At around 11:45 I get to go haul sticks with my family so they don't have to go to jail over that moronic Cobb County Sanitation bitch.
DETOUR: Sam says "There's this kid named Sami Teeny..hehehe...in my health class...HEHEHE....and in human growth and development he was like getting made fun of because of his name because we were learning about...like...no...during the first day of human growth and development we were learning about like...hehehe...wet dreams and stuff like that...and the coach is like 'so, is anyone having wet dreams?' hehehe *he farts and says 'sorry sorry sorry sorry HAHAHAHAH NO!! don't put that HAHAHAHAHA* and this kid raises his hand the coach is like 'what's your name' and he's like 'Sami Teeny.' and then everyone starts laughing and...hehehehehehehehehe. and we're all laughing about this thing and Sami's like 'what's it's not my fault and my Dad does do weird things...'"
MOVING ON.
So I sang Charlie and If You'd Be. Great. After that someone didn't talk very much. Wonderful. I knew that would happen. People from the congregation loved it. Joyous. "You should play and make a lot of money" etc etc etc. More groupies. *Sigh* I'd like to just be...low key? Lindsay seemed a little spazzed by some of the other acts and there was this Bush satirist friend of my brothers. *Sigh* He actually looks like him. That's really sad. Mark agrees. Said I should tell him that and see if he commits suicide. I said I'd spare myself the guilty trouble.
Then we came home and Lindsay was tired so she went home. Mark decided to go then too. Ugh. After being an hour and a half late! At least he helped with the yard work. Aah. I love him anyway. As usual. And the he bluthered on about me calling him and him calling me so we can see each other again sometime and Lindsay and I were like "WTF is he talking about?" Then I was sad because they both left and here I am (after Sam played clarinet for me a little). We kicked Sam out because of his farting and then Noah made a really mean comment and Sam ran away. I'm done with this now.
Oh, Georgia.
At around 11:45 I get to go haul sticks with my family so they don't have to go to jail over that moronic Cobb County Sanitation bitch.
DETOUR: Sam says "There's this kid named Sami Teeny..hehehe...in my health class...HEHEHE....and in human growth and development he was like getting made fun of because of his name because we were learning about...like...no...during the first day of human growth and development we were learning about like...hehehe...wet dreams and stuff like that...and the coach is like 'so, is anyone having wet dreams?' hehehe *he farts and says 'sorry sorry sorry sorry HAHAHAHAH NO!! don't put that HAHAHAHAHA* and this kid raises his hand the coach is like 'what's your name' and he's like 'Sami Teeny.' and then everyone starts laughing and...hehehehehehehehehe. and we're all laughing about this thing and Sami's like 'what's it's not my fault and my Dad does do weird things...'"
MOVING ON.
So I sang Charlie and If You'd Be. Great. After that someone didn't talk very much. Wonderful. I knew that would happen. People from the congregation loved it. Joyous. "You should play and make a lot of money" etc etc etc. More groupies. *Sigh* I'd like to just be...low key? Lindsay seemed a little spazzed by some of the other acts and there was this Bush satirist friend of my brothers. *Sigh* He actually looks like him. That's really sad. Mark agrees. Said I should tell him that and see if he commits suicide. I said I'd spare myself the guilty trouble.
Then we came home and Lindsay was tired so she went home. Mark decided to go then too. Ugh. After being an hour and a half late! At least he helped with the yard work. Aah. I love him anyway. As usual. And the he bluthered on about me calling him and him calling me so we can see each other again sometime and Lindsay and I were like "WTF is he talking about?" Then I was sad because they both left and here I am (after Sam played clarinet for me a little). We kicked Sam out because of his farting and then Noah made a really mean comment and Sam ran away. I'm done with this now.
Oh, Georgia.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Home At Last
At Harvard and about to leave in a few minutes to go to the airport. Turns out Anthony isn't going with me to the airport because he has some dumbass paper to write for tomorrow. :-( But the visit's been nice. Got him a present (guitar strings) and I'll see Kate in a few hours at the airport!! Anyhow, I'll be home tonight. And then tomorrow I get to see Mark (at least that's the plan) and perform in that talent show at the shul. *Oy* We'll see how that one goes.
Also, of course, I get to see my parents and my brothers which is sort of exciting...
But I already miss my Clarkies so much! Even though I'll be near Kate we won't see each other everyday and that will be so bad and sad. And no James. And No Adam. And no anyone from Clark except for Kate (who will make it almost all better) every now and then. Until a month from now.
So anyway, quick update on things. I finally got Carole King's greatest hits and the Lion King soundtrack! Yay for soulseek/mytunes/etc. I get to Anthony's and check my messages and have a message from Leeba Morse for James of all people about some present people from work left him in the Traina Center. So I tried forwarding the message to him but it said his voicemail box doesn't exist. WTF. So I called him and told him and tried again but it still didn't work, so whatever. I guess I'll tell him about his nonexistence when we talk in a few days.
Mark's being a jerk again as usual and not calling back or anything. So I'm guessing I'm NOT seeing him tomorrow and if I do it'll be for about two seconds. That = Super Pissed Off Tali.
Whatever. Going home. But it's warm here. 40. My favourite. Which means it'll be boiling at home. Eww. Off to the airport I go.
Also, of course, I get to see my parents and my brothers which is sort of exciting...
But I already miss my Clarkies so much! Even though I'll be near Kate we won't see each other everyday and that will be so bad and sad. And no James. And No Adam. And no anyone from Clark except for Kate (who will make it almost all better) every now and then. Until a month from now.
So anyway, quick update on things. I finally got Carole King's greatest hits and the Lion King soundtrack! Yay for soulseek/mytunes/etc. I get to Anthony's and check my messages and have a message from Leeba Morse for James of all people about some present people from work left him in the Traina Center. So I tried forwarding the message to him but it said his voicemail box doesn't exist. WTF. So I called him and told him and tried again but it still didn't work, so whatever. I guess I'll tell him about his nonexistence when we talk in a few days.
Mark's being a jerk again as usual and not calling back or anything. So I'm guessing I'm NOT seeing him tomorrow and if I do it'll be for about two seconds. That = Super Pissed Off Tali.
Whatever. Going home. But it's warm here. 40. My favourite. Which means it'll be boiling at home. Eww. Off to the airport I go.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Finals!
Well, Medieval Lit is overwith. Went pretty well, I think. Now, a brief respite between that test and Hebrew. I hate that bitch.
At least I'm not worried about the test at all. Two hours for her crap. I'm usually done in two minutes. Ok OK. 20. We'll see. I'm expecting it to be somewhat longer than her others, but Kessem said it shouldn't be much longer than the midterm if at all, which means 25-30 minutes. Then to paying the bill of $0.76 for tuition, eating, then hopefully hanging out with Kate and James and possibly Dan D (the first). I suppose I'll trudge up to Hillel to say goodbye to David and check my mail, etc. I actually remembered to sign my payroll thing (after the fact) this morning. Hmmm...Hebrew. I'll be fine. We studied last night for a while and then gave up because we knew everything.
So Jason R from home made me cry about some stuff because I avoid the important things in my life and it's about time I faced them, like he said (which is why I cried). So I told James I was unhappy and he came over and spent all day with me. I love that kid. Then we went over to the UC to meet Kate and Adam and Dan and Chelsea and a girl named Jessica I've never met before and another kid named Alex. That was fun. Dan bit my knee. But that's Dan. Craziness but I love it. :-D
I love it here. I'll miss them SO much. I can't wait to get back already even though I haven't even left. Of course, I'm terribly excited about going home. That'll be nice. A rest. Seeing Mark and Lindsay and Jason. And maybe a few other people like Emma and Fuzzz possibly. And making an appearance at Pope to say hello to teachers and get my transcript for Kelly to design her course for the homeschool students. And then to editing my book! Hopefully, I'll be sending it off to agents sometime over break, so it'll be some intensive editing, etc. *Sigh*
Talent show on Saturday night. Pray my voice is around. I'm singing "If You'd Be" definitely and something else. People have recommended "Charlie," but I'm kind of sick of Charlie and his desire and watching the leaves turn to fire and all that. Especially since my entire world is white right now, but I like it. So I'll think of something else. Possibly "Jeremy's Song," the new one. Or...who knows? I'll figure it out. Mark's coming. That should be interesting, considering it'll be his first all Jewish experience. Havdalah is first and he'll be just about the only non-Jew there. *Sigh* I'm glad it's almost over and I'm excited about next semester and getting back into the swing of things. Clark is the best ever. At least for me.
At least I'm not worried about the test at all. Two hours for her crap. I'm usually done in two minutes. Ok OK. 20. We'll see. I'm expecting it to be somewhat longer than her others, but Kessem said it shouldn't be much longer than the midterm if at all, which means 25-30 minutes. Then to paying the bill of $0.76 for tuition, eating, then hopefully hanging out with Kate and James and possibly Dan D (the first). I suppose I'll trudge up to Hillel to say goodbye to David and check my mail, etc. I actually remembered to sign my payroll thing (after the fact) this morning. Hmmm...Hebrew. I'll be fine. We studied last night for a while and then gave up because we knew everything.
So Jason R from home made me cry about some stuff because I avoid the important things in my life and it's about time I faced them, like he said (which is why I cried). So I told James I was unhappy and he came over and spent all day with me. I love that kid. Then we went over to the UC to meet Kate and Adam and Dan and Chelsea and a girl named Jessica I've never met before and another kid named Alex. That was fun. Dan bit my knee. But that's Dan. Craziness but I love it. :-D
I love it here. I'll miss them SO much. I can't wait to get back already even though I haven't even left. Of course, I'm terribly excited about going home. That'll be nice. A rest. Seeing Mark and Lindsay and Jason. And maybe a few other people like Emma and Fuzzz possibly. And making an appearance at Pope to say hello to teachers and get my transcript for Kelly to design her course for the homeschool students. And then to editing my book! Hopefully, I'll be sending it off to agents sometime over break, so it'll be some intensive editing, etc. *Sigh*
Talent show on Saturday night. Pray my voice is around. I'm singing "If You'd Be" definitely and something else. People have recommended "Charlie," but I'm kind of sick of Charlie and his desire and watching the leaves turn to fire and all that. Especially since my entire world is white right now, but I like it. So I'll think of something else. Possibly "Jeremy's Song," the new one. Or...who knows? I'll figure it out. Mark's coming. That should be interesting, considering it'll be his first all Jewish experience. Havdalah is first and he'll be just about the only non-Jew there. *Sigh* I'm glad it's almost over and I'm excited about next semester and getting back into the swing of things. Clark is the best ever. At least for me.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
One Week To Go
I decided to sleep in today. Yesterday, I finished my paper for speculative fiction and ended up not doing the rewrite and am not going to, so I'll just have to live with a B. Fine. I'm in the library now, after just having done my research for the Medieval Lit paper which I'm actually pretty excited about but I know I'll hate it in the end, too, because you get sick of words after awhile, especially if they're reliant on other people's.
Last night I went to the Clark Bars concert and they were great! Afterwards, Kate wanted me to come to the after-party so I went and hid behind a pillow on the couch the whole time. I did keep score for the Scrabble players, though, until it all fell apart because that's what happens at parties. It was also James' birthday so I told him I hoped he had a good one.
In the middle of it all, my notebook broke and I cried. Just separated from the binding. Kat kept saying "oh, it's not a bad omen" and I said I know, I know, but that's not it. They don't understand me here when it comes to my notebooks. They're me. If the pages fall from the binding it's my soul falling from me--at least a piece of it and it hurts. Physically. It physically hurts me, but I'll put the pages back in and mend us.
First thing I did this morning was go out to eat with Jordana and her crazy cousin, her awesome mom and her aunt. That was interesting. The cousin is 13 and crazier than Jordana. Don't ask. I did some shopping then, too, in the form of books. And Anthony Esolen's translation of Purgatory finally came out! So I bought it. I'm reading the Inferno again so it's perfect and I've been waiting for him to finish that up for two years. Now, I suppose, he's working on Paradiso.
Next, I went to the Traina Center and checked out the art show which was pretty good. Jordana's piece was surprisingly really good, too. Then, I called Kate from there to see what she was up to and she happened to be there, too, only in the theater part at a recital. So I saw Adam perform and a few reallyl good other people and the classical music was great. I was actually really in the mood for that kind of stuff.
Then I hauled over to Josh's with my computer to get it fixed up before break, so he has it and my iPod (where everything's being stored) until tomorrow. I guess I'll call Kate after I leave here (I came to the library for the research from Josh's) and see what's up. I might go to that dance show but I really want to watch that movie, so maybe I'll call Kat and James instead because we were supposed to watch it yesterday and never did.
Mark called while I was in the concert, so I called him back from Josh's and as usual told me he had to go and hang up on me again so I told him that he's a huge asshole, which worked because it kept him on the phone for another ten minutes or so. "You know we miss each other equally as much," he said when I told him "You just don't care. I'm not seeing you next week. You'll just have to wait until the summer." And he said "Yeah. We'll see how that one goes..."
Ugh. I can't stand that.
So I'm off. It's sweltering in here. And I want to get back outside to that awesom 35 degree weather after a foot of snow yesterday. *I love the cold* (minus the snow).
Last night I went to the Clark Bars concert and they were great! Afterwards, Kate wanted me to come to the after-party so I went and hid behind a pillow on the couch the whole time. I did keep score for the Scrabble players, though, until it all fell apart because that's what happens at parties. It was also James' birthday so I told him I hoped he had a good one.
In the middle of it all, my notebook broke and I cried. Just separated from the binding. Kat kept saying "oh, it's not a bad omen" and I said I know, I know, but that's not it. They don't understand me here when it comes to my notebooks. They're me. If the pages fall from the binding it's my soul falling from me--at least a piece of it and it hurts. Physically. It physically hurts me, but I'll put the pages back in and mend us.
First thing I did this morning was go out to eat with Jordana and her crazy cousin, her awesome mom and her aunt. That was interesting. The cousin is 13 and crazier than Jordana. Don't ask. I did some shopping then, too, in the form of books. And Anthony Esolen's translation of Purgatory finally came out! So I bought it. I'm reading the Inferno again so it's perfect and I've been waiting for him to finish that up for two years. Now, I suppose, he's working on Paradiso.
Next, I went to the Traina Center and checked out the art show which was pretty good. Jordana's piece was surprisingly really good, too. Then, I called Kate from there to see what she was up to and she happened to be there, too, only in the theater part at a recital. So I saw Adam perform and a few reallyl good other people and the classical music was great. I was actually really in the mood for that kind of stuff.
Then I hauled over to Josh's with my computer to get it fixed up before break, so he has it and my iPod (where everything's being stored) until tomorrow. I guess I'll call Kate after I leave here (I came to the library for the research from Josh's) and see what's up. I might go to that dance show but I really want to watch that movie, so maybe I'll call Kat and James instead because we were supposed to watch it yesterday and never did.
Mark called while I was in the concert, so I called him back from Josh's and as usual told me he had to go and hang up on me again so I told him that he's a huge asshole, which worked because it kept him on the phone for another ten minutes or so. "You know we miss each other equally as much," he said when I told him "You just don't care. I'm not seeing you next week. You'll just have to wait until the summer." And he said "Yeah. We'll see how that one goes..."
Ugh. I can't stand that.
So I'm off. It's sweltering in here. And I want to get back outside to that awesom 35 degree weather after a foot of snow yesterday. *I love the cold* (minus the snow).
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Dinner
So I had Kate and James over for dinner again. What. A. Night. I love them. I seriously (and Kate and Dad both agree) have never laughed harder in my life. Dad says he's never heard me laugh harder the entire time I've been alive. We were going over that idiotic story (that I happen to be writing a 10 page paper on), "The Brains of Rats," which isn't so idiotic unless you get the three of us together to make fun of us. Anyhow, the point is, Katrin is the woman pope who squats down randomly in the middle of a papal procession and gives birth. WTF. And then there's this diabetic sixty-two year old with penis implants. I LOVE my science fiction reading material!!!!!
Then it took us twelve hours to open a jar of vinegar. In the end, we ended up poking a hole in the side so we could use it for our Israeli salad that I'll hopefully remember to take to class tomorrow and then transferring the vinegar to the empty snapple jar after cutting the lid off with a knife.
I love Kate and James.
Then I called Mark and he talked to me and James and told me he'd call tomorrow. Yeah right. I'll faint if that one happens.
Then I called Dad to say happy birthday again and he joined in on our partying by being put on speaker phone and he talked to Kate and James and we read Katrin to him. LMAO. My dad is amazing. He joined FACEBOOK! And all the groupies are friending him. Isn't that HILARIOUS!?!?
On a different note, I'm still working on the paper, which is actually about 3/4 done now. Yay! Earlier, when I went to sit down and start it, I turned on my computer only to be greeted by a nice fat worm. So I had to charge down to ITS, make an appointment for 2:00 (the earliest time available and this was 11:30). SO in the 2.5 hours I spent waiting, I wrote about four pages of my paper which was seriously the most productive I've ever been in my entire life. Then this cool kid Cory fixed my computer after an hour. Then I went to visit Jon who wasn't there so I hung out with James for awhile. James is awesome. Can I say that again? Yes. James is awesome.
Then off to Hebrew. Joyous. Oh...speaking of which, I should staple my HW.
Hebrew meant Kate, so we went to PriceChopper with Adam (her boyfriend) and got stranded by that stupid ass escort van. While we were waiting Kate suggested we invite James and that brings us back to the beginning of my story and since I'm done here, I'm going back to my paper!
Then it took us twelve hours to open a jar of vinegar. In the end, we ended up poking a hole in the side so we could use it for our Israeli salad that I'll hopefully remember to take to class tomorrow and then transferring the vinegar to the empty snapple jar after cutting the lid off with a knife.
I love Kate and James.
Then I called Mark and he talked to me and James and told me he'd call tomorrow. Yeah right. I'll faint if that one happens.
Then I called Dad to say happy birthday again and he joined in on our partying by being put on speaker phone and he talked to Kate and James and we read Katrin to him. LMAO. My dad is amazing. He joined FACEBOOK! And all the groupies are friending him. Isn't that HILARIOUS!?!?
On a different note, I'm still working on the paper, which is actually about 3/4 done now. Yay! Earlier, when I went to sit down and start it, I turned on my computer only to be greeted by a nice fat worm. So I had to charge down to ITS, make an appointment for 2:00 (the earliest time available and this was 11:30). SO in the 2.5 hours I spent waiting, I wrote about four pages of my paper which was seriously the most productive I've ever been in my entire life. Then this cool kid Cory fixed my computer after an hour. Then I went to visit Jon who wasn't there so I hung out with James for awhile. James is awesome. Can I say that again? Yes. James is awesome.
Then off to Hebrew. Joyous. Oh...speaking of which, I should staple my HW.
Hebrew meant Kate, so we went to PriceChopper with Adam (her boyfriend) and got stranded by that stupid ass escort van. While we were waiting Kate suggested we invite James and that brings us back to the beginning of my story and since I'm done here, I'm going back to my paper!
Friday, December 02, 2005
In Answer to My Commentor
How does one convince himself that something doesn't have hope of reality? He doesn't. He already knows it deep, deep down. That's why they go insane. Like Sibyl Freid. Like Tali Sachs. We all go insane. And even though we sometimes appear to have let go, we're really still chasing that wind in the back of our minds. Saying "If only if only if only..."
I guess convincing isn't what we really need to move on, to "let go," if that's what you want to call it. What we really need to realize that there are more choices than one that could and will make us happy in life. That's what the Parallels are all about. The different choices. There are always going to be at least TWO choices, and most likely choices infinitum. Of course we can't imagine all of them. We're lucky if we can imagine a handful. But they're there.
And an answer? No one knows the answers. So instead of answers, we search within ourselves and create more wind, but we know it's imaginary, and if we're lucky, we won't be overtaken by those countless worlds residing in our minds. The different and the same. I live them everyday and so do you. Tweak one little thing and the whole world's different, but it probably has that extraordinary piece of the usual that makes it all seem so much more worth it. So I imagine. And I live. And sometimes, life surprises me. Because sometimes, believe it or not, reality holds the better dream, a dream that I didn't have the imagination or the breadth to make up myself.
I guess convincing isn't what we really need to move on, to "let go," if that's what you want to call it. What we really need to realize that there are more choices than one that could and will make us happy in life. That's what the Parallels are all about. The different choices. There are always going to be at least TWO choices, and most likely choices infinitum. Of course we can't imagine all of them. We're lucky if we can imagine a handful. But they're there.
And an answer? No one knows the answers. So instead of answers, we search within ourselves and create more wind, but we know it's imaginary, and if we're lucky, we won't be overtaken by those countless worlds residing in our minds. The different and the same. I live them everyday and so do you. Tweak one little thing and the whole world's different, but it probably has that extraordinary piece of the usual that makes it all seem so much more worth it. So I imagine. And I live. And sometimes, life surprises me. Because sometimes, believe it or not, reality holds the better dream, a dream that I didn't have the imagination or the breadth to make up myself.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Life is one of those funny things. Not too long ago, I used to think of ending it. But what would be the point? There's nothing to tell me it would be better. And what really is Oblivion? I look outside and I don't understand the world. I think most people don't understand the world, but we pretend to. That's what we all do. We pretend. We pretend we're people we haven't met, people we aspire to be, people we used to be, people we'll never be. The list goes on and on.
And what is it we're all looking for? We can kick and scream and fight against what we all know it is. Like I kick and scream and fight and deny it. Because when it comes down to it, we're only animals and all we want is each other. Maybe only for a moment, but we want each other. Flesh. Skin on skin, and then maybe a mind to go with it. There's nothing that feels better than a hand holding yours, or an arm around your shoulders, or the icy blue look in the eyes of a friend. I suppose if you're looking in mine, it'll be the muddy brown.
I told someone today that I know why I'm so highstrung, so uptight, so afraid of creating new relationships and making new friends. It's the same reason I'm afraid of everything else. "They all die. Too soon. Whether it's disease or stupidity or bus bombs. They all die. And I lose. Yes, I'm selfish and I lose. And I watch my brothers dying and I watch their sight fade, imagining what it's like for the lights to go out, to never see again one more drop of ink or color or sky or sea or even the grey cement."
He understood. Understands. But I flinch and he's calm and the world turns anyway. So he guides me across the road with a hand lightly on my back and I tell him all of this. Then I look up at the sky and it's cloudy and I can't see anything but the shaded veils of darkness that obstruct my stars and will not rain or snow.
I told another friend to not pursue the wind. "Don't pursue the wind, ___," I said. "And you're about to do again. Don't go after it. You'll lose it and get so caught up in what can never be that you'll miss it all."
"I know," he said. "I just don't understand."
"No one does. Just live life. Not dreams. Unless they have hope of reality."
Dreams and schemes, huh? In the end, we're all looking for love. I hope everyone gets to keep it while I throw mine away. "For the good of the People, I will stamp my own happiness out."
But I've reconciled it.
"Consider now; isn't that the height of folly?/ Who may be a real fool unless he is in love?"-Chaucer.
And what is it we're all looking for? We can kick and scream and fight against what we all know it is. Like I kick and scream and fight and deny it. Because when it comes down to it, we're only animals and all we want is each other. Maybe only for a moment, but we want each other. Flesh. Skin on skin, and then maybe a mind to go with it. There's nothing that feels better than a hand holding yours, or an arm around your shoulders, or the icy blue look in the eyes of a friend. I suppose if you're looking in mine, it'll be the muddy brown.
I told someone today that I know why I'm so highstrung, so uptight, so afraid of creating new relationships and making new friends. It's the same reason I'm afraid of everything else. "They all die. Too soon. Whether it's disease or stupidity or bus bombs. They all die. And I lose. Yes, I'm selfish and I lose. And I watch my brothers dying and I watch their sight fade, imagining what it's like for the lights to go out, to never see again one more drop of ink or color or sky or sea or even the grey cement."
He understood. Understands. But I flinch and he's calm and the world turns anyway. So he guides me across the road with a hand lightly on my back and I tell him all of this. Then I look up at the sky and it's cloudy and I can't see anything but the shaded veils of darkness that obstruct my stars and will not rain or snow.
I told another friend to not pursue the wind. "Don't pursue the wind, ___," I said. "And you're about to do again. Don't go after it. You'll lose it and get so caught up in what can never be that you'll miss it all."
"I know," he said. "I just don't understand."
"No one does. Just live life. Not dreams. Unless they have hope of reality."
Dreams and schemes, huh? In the end, we're all looking for love. I hope everyone gets to keep it while I throw mine away. "For the good of the People, I will stamp my own happiness out."
But I've reconciled it.
"Consider now; isn't that the height of folly?/ Who may be a real fool unless he is in love?"-Chaucer.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Halo in the Vertigo
Once upon a time there was a little boy who was a story within himself. He didn’t believe he had any stories at all, that his inspiration had been suffocated out of him until it died.
His reflection said otherwise. The aging features, taut with disillusionment, the eyes rent in half-ignored sorrow. The man sighed and looked around matter-of-factly.
Just another day, he thought as he ran his hands over his newly almost-shaved head.
The night before had been like many others: the girl in his arms, he, the man in hers, both gasping as they attempted to make love but only really got around to fucking because the connection wasn’t there. Tonight, he’d walk past the apartment and make his way to the Seventh Avenue whores, paying them his rent money for that little bit of company he couldn’t’ find in his girl like he thought he should.
No matter, though. There would be other girls, other lovers for him and more Mister Rights for her.
He turned from the mirror, rubbing in the aftershave before clicking off the light.
The city was loud today, like everyday, but the incessant roar of eight million people and their troubles wouldn’t get through to his ears.
Crumpled up poetry littered his apartment floor and his footprints were moulded in the pages as he walked from the bathroom and back to the bed where he kissed his girl and crammed his feet into mud-caked sneakers.
Eight flights down and his heart still wasn’t pounding. He was used to this, in shape, accustomed to caustic landlords and empty pockets.
He thought of the faceless girl from that night three months ago. This one he hadn’t touched, hadn’t slipped a lustful kiss. One thing he had done was listen, then whispered his thoughts in response, but the whispers came out too loud and everyone in the sixty-minute crowd heard every word. She’d stood there, alone, almost shamed, but fighting that long-ago accusation that she was a coward. Valour held her up as his broadcast whispers showered her, and when he shut his lips, he saw hers open in an embarrassed grin before she mouthed the words that had left him hanging.
Later, she’d told him it was nothing and that she’d save his commentary for a later date when life was more than ice-tread and cloudy
The cement under his feet reminded him that this was the morning and that the girl was lost, most likely, that the road would take him to work where he would earn his daily bread.
Damn it, he thought. I can’t even remember her face.
The silent world reverberated around him as he stepped into the office.
Tell me the stories, she’d said.
Don’t have any, he half laughed.
Of course you do! Everyone does.
He turned and looked her in the eye.
She looks like my mother, he thought.
What? She asked.
Nothin’.
It’s weird, you know? Almost like I know you.
He looked away and concentrated on the road.
That’s a story, isn’t it? She asked.
He shrugged.
Don’t know.
Well, this is me, she said when they reached the street lamp. Thanks for the lift.
He watched her climb out, his hands fixed to the wheel, his heart screaming to go after her.
She leaned down in the door and smiled at him.
You know, just find me here if you want. Write something down and let me know.
He nodded as the car door shut, then drove away.
On the way home, he fought the impending frost bite as he made his way to the street lamp.
She came soon enough, out of nowhere.
So? It took you long enough. Have anything to tell me?
He walked up to her and kissed her deeply and melted into the halo of the street light.
Actually, yes, he said. Poetry I stamped on this morning. Lonely mornings and nights. Too many stories to tell all in one night.
Then take it slow…don’t say anything at all, she said.
She took his hand and led him to a room flooded with street light beams.
On her sheets laid out on the floor, he finally succeeded in making that love he’d been trying for for so long. He fell back, smiling, satisfied, at the ceiling.
She laughed beside him and he thought of all the words he’d shape into the stories of his life.
He leaned on his elbow and gazed into her eyes and sighed.
I really don’t have any stories at all, he said.
She smiled and shrugged as the street lamp turned off.
Neither do I.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
"What is it you left?"
I read Plato's Wall again tonight. Out loud with Beth. It's still just as amazing as the first time...when I actually had the conversation. That's why I went back again. Because things go around and around and around. He knows me, and I'm lacking that around here. So I went back to my best friend. Yes, I went back to my best friend. Not the one I say is, usually. I went back to my Harvardian because he told me I left him everything and that got me a long time ago just like it gets me today. Things are ending with the other one. I'll try to be there with him, even though I'm pretty sure it's going to be a futile effort and I'll have to go through expository writing. But just to see, I'll try it.
Anyhow, things are ending on the other end of the spectrum. No more whistlin' gypsy. At least in the more-than-friends regard. I knew I'd get over it eventually. And as for the others, well, I'll just see them come and go as they all do eventually.
More sleepless nights coming up and too much work to think of. Over and out, I suppose.
Anyhow, things are ending on the other end of the spectrum. No more whistlin' gypsy. At least in the more-than-friends regard. I knew I'd get over it eventually. And as for the others, well, I'll just see them come and go as they all do eventually.
More sleepless nights coming up and too much work to think of. Over and out, I suppose.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Beautiful Boy Undone
I've undone the beautiful boy. Without meaning to, as usual. I make him feel "inadequate" because he thinks I'm too "brilliant" for him. See? Too good again? Fuck it all. Make me bad! Make me bad! I can't stand myself, really. I can't stand myself. I wish I could have all memory erased. All Vision erased. All my soul erased so that I'm someone else. So that I don't lose people to whatever the hell they think they're worse than. I can't help what I am. I can't help the Madness.
They all "need to fucking hide." They think I'll find someone else. Or they think I'll find them again. All I find is emptiness and the abyss grows larger with each passing moment until the entire world is full of Nothingness and I am alone. Again and again, I am alone. I think I should be the one to hide away. No one to meet, no one to miss when all is said and done. I think I'll do that. Hide away. Stop talking, looking, listening, singing, writing. Writing. I think I'll stop writing and sink into my schizophrenic mind without releasing anything. No one will hurt then. No one will feel inadequate. They won't know.
I'll tell you about the Madness now
I promised you I would
It's everything to do with that.
When I say I'm a writer, I don't mean that it's me. Imean that I'm the raped one. The Art is the rapist. I write nothing. I'm forced to. And for a while now, I've sort of been writing on my own. But the Madness is coming back.
The Ink is coming back. The Ink intrudes as a veil between my eyes and the world, so that everything is made of blackist ink and blackest words in every language said and unsaid. I can only read my own, but I hear them all shouting, incomprehensible to me.
I hear it on the wind and on the ocean. And when the wave of Ink comes, like it did the other night, I have to work hard to shove it aside so I can see everyone and everything in color.
That scares people. at least the people who understand it, because first they're intrigued and then they run away. Like Jeremy. He lost it.
Or if they don't understand, they mock it and they leave me lonely. So either way I hate myself because I'm the inadequate one. The one who isn't human.
On the surface. I know how to pretend.
I'm a mask. A character. Nothing else.
I'm an artist.
I want to be the eye that blinks and make it all full of meaning but in the end I'm empty because nothing is mine.
They all "need to fucking hide." They think I'll find someone else. Or they think I'll find them again. All I find is emptiness and the abyss grows larger with each passing moment until the entire world is full of Nothingness and I am alone. Again and again, I am alone. I think I should be the one to hide away. No one to meet, no one to miss when all is said and done. I think I'll do that. Hide away. Stop talking, looking, listening, singing, writing. Writing. I think I'll stop writing and sink into my schizophrenic mind without releasing anything. No one will hurt then. No one will feel inadequate. They won't know.
I'll tell you about the Madness now
I promised you I would
It's everything to do with that.
When I say I'm a writer, I don't mean that it's me. Imean that I'm the raped one. The Art is the rapist. I write nothing. I'm forced to. And for a while now, I've sort of been writing on my own. But the Madness is coming back.
The Ink is coming back. The Ink intrudes as a veil between my eyes and the world, so that everything is made of blackist ink and blackest words in every language said and unsaid. I can only read my own, but I hear them all shouting, incomprehensible to me.
I hear it on the wind and on the ocean. And when the wave of Ink comes, like it did the other night, I have to work hard to shove it aside so I can see everyone and everything in color.
That scares people. at least the people who understand it, because first they're intrigued and then they run away. Like Jeremy. He lost it.
Or if they don't understand, they mock it and they leave me lonely. So either way I hate myself because I'm the inadequate one. The one who isn't human.
On the surface. I know how to pretend.
I'm a mask. A character. Nothing else.
I'm an artist.
I want to be the eye that blinks and make it all full of meaning but in the end I'm empty because nothing is mine.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Beautiful Boy...Again
Beautiful...like he's pure imagination running wild. A piece of art, the form unchiseled from the stone. He's like an Unfinished Slave, forever doomed to ripping himself out of stone, the Master gone, the chisel broken. Always in the act of ripping and never ripped.
I shouldn't fall in love like this. It's not the usual kind. It's like falling in love with a book. The fatal kind of falling that is nothing but pursuit of wind. What heart is this that lies within me? Loving what can never love back, what can never be caught. My gaze shifts in the other direction, but the beauty still invades. Distilled beauty floods the world, so much so that I almost wish for Hell. But no, that's beautiful in its own way, too. So whichever way I'm turned I'm still caught.
Take this heart of mine and toss it in the river! I beg of no one in particular, but the heart remains suspende in the river of my own veins, beating on and on for fear of dying.
I'm gone tonight. Shakes that tide off of me. The ink is back.
I shouldn't fall in love like this. It's not the usual kind. It's like falling in love with a book. The fatal kind of falling that is nothing but pursuit of wind. What heart is this that lies within me? Loving what can never love back, what can never be caught. My gaze shifts in the other direction, but the beauty still invades. Distilled beauty floods the world, so much so that I almost wish for Hell. But no, that's beautiful in its own way, too. So whichever way I'm turned I'm still caught.
Take this heart of mine and toss it in the river! I beg of no one in particular, but the heart remains suspende in the river of my own veins, beating on and on for fear of dying.
I'm gone tonight. Shakes that tide off of me. The ink is back.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Beautiful Boy
There's a brilliant ray of unadulterated happiness coming from the little boy's eyes, from his smile, from his entire countenance. "It's a miracle!" a voice inside me cries. Live and let live, says the music.
It's funny where you can find that. I can find it on the air, in a child's eyes, in a melody. But most of all I find it in other people who have lived through it already--the virgin bliss that seeps into the space around them for the joy of existing. He cries in every motion, in every breath between the lines "I am alive and glad."
His eyes are like mine, I think--not surprised at anything, both child and adult wrapped into one. Too bad there's so much distance, because I truly want to match that gaze more often. I suppose frequency will never be and infrequency will have to suffice. A laugh is escaping me now and I can't help but smile anyhow. But he'd gladly trade lives with me. Gladly. I don't know if I'd like his as opposed to my own but I do know that I'd like to share it more. Maybe I'm luckier than i make myself out to be--especially for myself. I've found another someone who, if he were nearer and closer, perhaps would provide another mirror for my eyes, another fountain of Madness, another full moon for this Inky tide of mine, another connection. One other I've found and now distance separates us, too.
But he looks so young, feels so young to me. how could I give myself up like that? So quickly? So artificially--it's the same with both of them. But this one is Berekiah in my own world--your world, too--with a decade more life than I.
I told him once that I don't understand how it's possible for me to pour myself into someone after only having met once. How it's possible to feel that immediate click. He said there is no reason, nor a need for one--I opened up and he reciprocated. I asked why--no explanation. He knows, too. I am a Friend. And if it were possible, he'd drop everything and come four hours to see me for two, and then go back again. He'd come just to go back again.
But life gets in the way.
I'd do the same, but circumstance is the same for me, too. So I'll avoid 2 a.m. because that's where my life leads and I revolve around no one. But maybe--maybe when the shift ends and the city pretends to sleep--I'll be waiting for that second Friend. Maybe I'll be waiting for that Friend, whose eyes reflect my own over that decade I've not yet lived--will never live--over that decade we both understand doesn't matter because eternity is a moment and makes up for lost time.
It's funny where you can find that. I can find it on the air, in a child's eyes, in a melody. But most of all I find it in other people who have lived through it already--the virgin bliss that seeps into the space around them for the joy of existing. He cries in every motion, in every breath between the lines "I am alive and glad."
His eyes are like mine, I think--not surprised at anything, both child and adult wrapped into one. Too bad there's so much distance, because I truly want to match that gaze more often. I suppose frequency will never be and infrequency will have to suffice. A laugh is escaping me now and I can't help but smile anyhow. But he'd gladly trade lives with me. Gladly. I don't know if I'd like his as opposed to my own but I do know that I'd like to share it more. Maybe I'm luckier than i make myself out to be--especially for myself. I've found another someone who, if he were nearer and closer, perhaps would provide another mirror for my eyes, another fountain of Madness, another full moon for this Inky tide of mine, another connection. One other I've found and now distance separates us, too.
But he looks so young, feels so young to me. how could I give myself up like that? So quickly? So artificially--it's the same with both of them. But this one is Berekiah in my own world--your world, too--with a decade more life than I.
I told him once that I don't understand how it's possible for me to pour myself into someone after only having met once. How it's possible to feel that immediate click. He said there is no reason, nor a need for one--I opened up and he reciprocated. I asked why--no explanation. He knows, too. I am a Friend. And if it were possible, he'd drop everything and come four hours to see me for two, and then go back again. He'd come just to go back again.
But life gets in the way.
I'd do the same, but circumstance is the same for me, too. So I'll avoid 2 a.m. because that's where my life leads and I revolve around no one. But maybe--maybe when the shift ends and the city pretends to sleep--I'll be waiting for that second Friend. Maybe I'll be waiting for that Friend, whose eyes reflect my own over that decade I've not yet lived--will never live--over that decade we both understand doesn't matter because eternity is a moment and makes up for lost time.
New York Weekend
Well, the weekend has been good, I suppose. Saw people. Got my yarn as opposed to more bibs, because unlike everyone else, I'm not having children. (Yay!) Hung out with Hank and Jodi and Cuteness (aka Matthew) all day yesterday and then Jeremy and Astrid came to visit me! That was awesome. We all went out to eat at this really good Thai place and I finished the food this morning and everyone was complaining about me eating dinner for breakfast instead of breakfast. Whatever.
So I get to go back the Woo today. Oh joy. And now Sharen and the girls have arrived so I'll finish this up later when I get back and after I see James for the little music party. :-)
So I get to go back the Woo today. Oh joy. And now Sharen and the girls have arrived so I'll finish this up later when I get back and after I see James for the little music party. :-)
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Gypsy at the Window
A few days ago I woke up to a mild morning. The first thing I do everyday once I'm actually out of bed is look out the window and out onto the playground across the street. On this day, the Whistlin' Gypsy was there. It's weird, because he really looks just like him. Sure, I should get it out of my mind. Because this is just turning into obsession while the other is real. And in the end, I know that the other is more important. It doesn't matter now, though. I still hear the song.
On a different note, I got an A- on my paper, which in effect, is no different from an A because all A's are 4.0's. Which means the C+ midterm is out of there as long as I don't screw up on anything else. Also, I spoke to Betsy and we're going to work on redoing my paper, so that will be an A, too. Hebrew quiz...100. Again. So my quiz average is 100.25. Nothing to worry about there, I don't think.
So I'm happy. And pretty secure for the time being. And I'm listening to the Whistlin' Gypsy and that makes everything better.
On a different note, I got an A- on my paper, which in effect, is no different from an A because all A's are 4.0's. Which means the C+ midterm is out of there as long as I don't screw up on anything else. Also, I spoke to Betsy and we're going to work on redoing my paper, so that will be an A, too. Hebrew quiz...100. Again. So my quiz average is 100.25. Nothing to worry about there, I don't think.
So I'm happy. And pretty secure for the time being. And I'm listening to the Whistlin' Gypsy and that makes everything better.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
"Do you believe in angels, Julian?"
"No. I--I don't know...why?"
Silitha sighed. "I don't know. I just watned to know what you thought."
"Well, I don't know, Sil. I'm not very into the whole religion, God thing. You know?"
"Yeah...it's just...God, I don't know, Julian. IT's been bugging me. The idea of angels. not in the goodness halo sense. Just--messengers." Her eyes flashed up to Julian's.
"Messengers?"
"Yeah. Just as messengers."
"Why? i mean, what--what kind of messages?"
Anything. The abstract, the concrete. Anything. The world. I just, aaah, just antyhing. Messages...messages. What are we, what aren't we? What is the universe?"
Julian scratched his head and furrowed his brow.
"I don't know, Silitha. You're losing me. What are you getting at?"
"I see them, Julian. I mean really see them. Everywhere. Like a delusion. Not a dream. Like a delusion but more."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like a feeling, a glimpse. And I ask why. They don't really answer."
"Ask why what?"
"Why they speak. To me. Why they speak to me."
"You think the angels speak to you?"
"I know they do. But I can't figure out whether they're real or delusion. And does it matter in the end?"
"Ever thought of seeing someone about this, Sil?"
"Yeah. But would it help any?"
"Won't find out 'til you try, huh?"
"No. I--I don't know...why?"
Silitha sighed. "I don't know. I just watned to know what you thought."
"Well, I don't know, Sil. I'm not very into the whole religion, God thing. You know?"
"Yeah...it's just...God, I don't know, Julian. IT's been bugging me. The idea of angels. not in the goodness halo sense. Just--messengers." Her eyes flashed up to Julian's.
"Messengers?"
"Yeah. Just as messengers."
"Why? i mean, what--what kind of messages?"
Anything. The abstract, the concrete. Anything. The world. I just, aaah, just antyhing. Messages...messages. What are we, what aren't we? What is the universe?"
Julian scratched his head and furrowed his brow.
"I don't know, Silitha. You're losing me. What are you getting at?"
"I see them, Julian. I mean really see them. Everywhere. Like a delusion. Not a dream. Like a delusion but more."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like a feeling, a glimpse. And I ask why. They don't really answer."
"Ask why what?"
"Why they speak. To me. Why they speak to me."
"You think the angels speak to you?"
"I know they do. But I can't figure out whether they're real or delusion. And does it matter in the end?"
"Ever thought of seeing someone about this, Sil?"
"Yeah. But would it help any?"
"Won't find out 'til you try, huh?"
Monday, November 14, 2005
Tin Soldier
If I don't say his name, maybe, somehow, he's still alive.
Maybe somehow he's still alive.
And I never tell anyone, but I make believe he's still alive by keeping quiet.
He died for nothing. That happens sometimes. And I loved him once. I really loved him once. But the world is so full of pain and I can't understand. I can't get it through my brain. I can never get it through my brain.
War is all for nothing. People die in the end anyway, so what does genocide accomplish but prolonging the grief of the living and the illusion of the dead?
I loved the boy with the bright blue eyes. The boy with the bright blue eyes.
But I think if I blocked the memory out, I'd go looking for it again because I'd feel the empty space. Which is worse? Ignorance or knowledge? Ignorance isn't always bliss. At least for me.
So I'm being like a book tonight: vague until the end when all the pieces come together. Unfortunately, the end isn't soon, so no big picture.
Bus bombs. Those get me more than anything. I see out of someone else's eyes when I see one of those or hear about one of those. Because maybe if I keep seeing, it'll keep him alive for one more moment. But it doesn't.
I look anyway.
I look anyway.
Maybe somehow he's still alive.
And I never tell anyone, but I make believe he's still alive by keeping quiet.
He died for nothing. That happens sometimes. And I loved him once. I really loved him once. But the world is so full of pain and I can't understand. I can't get it through my brain. I can never get it through my brain.
War is all for nothing. People die in the end anyway, so what does genocide accomplish but prolonging the grief of the living and the illusion of the dead?
I loved the boy with the bright blue eyes. The boy with the bright blue eyes.
But I think if I blocked the memory out, I'd go looking for it again because I'd feel the empty space. Which is worse? Ignorance or knowledge? Ignorance isn't always bliss. At least for me.
So I'm being like a book tonight: vague until the end when all the pieces come together. Unfortunately, the end isn't soon, so no big picture.
Bus bombs. Those get me more than anything. I see out of someone else's eyes when I see one of those or hear about one of those. Because maybe if I keep seeing, it'll keep him alive for one more moment. But it doesn't.
I look anyway.
I look anyway.
Whistlin' Gypsy
"But what does it accomplish in the end? What does it do to benefit the world?" I asked. "Look at you. You'll be a doctor. Save lives. You have an impact."
"Nah. Look, I'll be a doctor. Find some miracle cure for cancer for some poor old 75-year-old man and he'll be cured for life and five years later, he'll die because he's old. So what will I accomplish in the end? Everyone dies. So what's the point there?" he said.
"To prolong life. Keep it going for as long as possible. Isn't that enough?"
"Maybe. But look at you. You might not be saving bodies. But you save lives. What you do is more important. People read, you save the soul."
"Nah. Look, I'll be a doctor. Find some miracle cure for cancer for some poor old 75-year-old man and he'll be cured for life and five years later, he'll die because he's old. So what will I accomplish in the end? Everyone dies. So what's the point there?" he said.
"To prolong life. Keep it going for as long as possible. Isn't that enough?"
"Maybe. But look at you. You might not be saving bodies. But you save lives. What you do is more important. People read, you save the soul."
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Two Songs
Still From Home
There's a light
and I want it to burn
Sweet dreams
Sweet dreams
So that they all roll down
water the ground
And the crowd passes me by
I'm my only company again
The faces all merge
into the alabaster ground
My mind wanders back to you
I imagine you
Find me
Find me, find me
I'll be waiting on the miles of
empty air
Find me, find me
I miss the space
that always seems to fade
when your eyes
and my eyes
speak wordlessly
create eternity
Find me
Be my light
And I'll be yours if you'd like
But the season's shifting
and the deadbeat
inspiration's still from home.
Gateways
Somewhere over the rainbow
I caught a glimpse of instant heaven
and it was you
Now I go
up to the gateway
and I wonder what to long for
and it's just you
and it's just you
and it's just you
'Cause the dream is coming true
and it's still you
Now this song calls
for no sorrow
And I will follow
that little by-road
think of tomorrow
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
and it seems like a long time ago
or just yesterday
Somewhere over the rainbow
I go sailing upon the sea
and it wishes and it dreams of you and me
They sky glows
night and daylight
why look for another?
When it'll be all right
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
And it'll be all right
And it'll be all right
And it'll be all right
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
and it'll be all right
I found you and it'll be all right
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
There's a light
and I want it to burn
Sweet dreams
Sweet dreams
So that they all roll down
water the ground
And the crowd passes me by
I'm my only company again
The faces all merge
into the alabaster ground
My mind wanders back to you
I imagine you
Find me
Find me, find me
I'll be waiting on the miles of
empty air
Find me, find me
I miss the space
that always seems to fade
when your eyes
and my eyes
speak wordlessly
create eternity
Find me
Be my light
And I'll be yours if you'd like
But the season's shifting
and the deadbeat
inspiration's still from home.
Gateways
Somewhere over the rainbow
I caught a glimpse of instant heaven
and it was you
Now I go
up to the gateway
and I wonder what to long for
and it's just you
and it's just you
and it's just you
'Cause the dream is coming true
and it's still you
Now this song calls
for no sorrow
And I will follow
that little by-road
think of tomorrow
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
and it seems like a long time ago
or just yesterday
Somewhere over the rainbow
I go sailing upon the sea
and it wishes and it dreams of you and me
They sky glows
night and daylight
why look for another?
When it'll be all right
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
And it'll be all right
And it'll be all right
And it'll be all right
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
and it'll be all right
I found you and it'll be all right
Somewhere over the rainbow
I found you
Enough
"What is it you're looking for, Little Girl?"
"What everyone looks for."
"What is that?"
"No one knows, Uriel. At least until they've lost it."
"Must you lose it?"
"Yes. Nothing is missed enough until you've had and lost. Too much is taken for granted.
"What everyone looks for."
"What is that?"
"No one knows, Uriel. At least until they've lost it."
"Must you lose it?"
"Yes. Nothing is missed enough until you've had and lost. Too much is taken for granted.
* * *
A soul. For a soul to be nothing but light. For a soul to be nothing but a ray of light, forever eternal until absorbed by a body--and then, still extant. I pity the soul embodied as nothing but light, for embodiment is nothing at all when cast as nothing but soul.
I understand the angel now. A soul of nothing but light -- not to be seen unless enmeshed with all others in a being that doesn't quite resemble a star. But I hear him, and I see what he would be. I feel him, although his only feling is emotion -- I feel him.
Micha'el is here, watching me from the shadows. He understands human ailment. He can't feel life giving out. He understands emotion, though, but I don't understand his. part of me says he's wiser than Uriel. Part of me loves him more.
But of all celestial beings, it is a human who holds a place higher than them all. Angels don't have wings. I saw him again today, but I didn't approach more than I needed. Uriel says it's him. I still don't believe him entirely. But I am drawn to him anyway. Maybe I will go. Maybe I will calsp a human angel who's never known a thing of airborne wings.
I understand the angel now. A soul of nothing but light -- not to be seen unless enmeshed with all others in a being that doesn't quite resemble a star. But I hear him, and I see what he would be. I feel him, although his only feling is emotion -- I feel him.
Micha'el is here, watching me from the shadows. He understands human ailment. He can't feel life giving out. He understands emotion, though, but I don't understand his. part of me says he's wiser than Uriel. Part of me loves him more.
But of all celestial beings, it is a human who holds a place higher than them all. Angels don't have wings. I saw him again today, but I didn't approach more than I needed. Uriel says it's him. I still don't believe him entirely. But I am drawn to him anyway. Maybe I will go. Maybe I will calsp a human angel who's never known a thing of airborne wings.
Back in Kate's room again. Hmmm...got out of Medieval Lit. That man is amazing! He specializes in exactly what I want to major in. Only I can't because they don't offer comparative religions here. :-( The past few days, we've had discussions on pagan symbolism in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, only not just that, because it's joined with early Christianity...exactly my interest. The great thing about this particular text and the particular teaching of it by Bastien is that he acknowledges that it is neither a Christian nor pagan text, solely, but rather (possibly, most probably considering the symbolic evidence) a conglomerate of the two.
What bugged me was that he mosied around actually saying what I was thinking: Perhaps the poet is making a point, not just invoking both, but saying that both are one and the same in the mind's of the people confronted with the Pagan-Christian religious transition? Now I can't get that pentagram out of my head, nor the color symbolism, nor the fact that he touched on the black goddesses without going into the modern-day worship and invocation that still exists of the surviving black madonnas throughout continental Europe (specifically France) and the vestiges of it that made their way into Britain.
All right, I'll stop here because I can go on forever about this. *Sigh* What the fuck happened on that midterm?!?! This is the best class EVER. Well, since the midterm and the clarification of the specification of pagan/Celtic reference, I've noticed he's been especially careful as to specify between one and the other. I'm happy. And now that he's going on about continental Europe and Isis and Diana are in the picture, I also feel much more at home. Who would have thought?
What bugged me was that he mosied around actually saying what I was thinking: Perhaps the poet is making a point, not just invoking both, but saying that both are one and the same in the mind's of the people confronted with the Pagan-Christian religious transition? Now I can't get that pentagram out of my head, nor the color symbolism, nor the fact that he touched on the black goddesses without going into the modern-day worship and invocation that still exists of the surviving black madonnas throughout continental Europe (specifically France) and the vestiges of it that made their way into Britain.
All right, I'll stop here because I can go on forever about this. *Sigh* What the fuck happened on that midterm?!?! This is the best class EVER. Well, since the midterm and the clarification of the specification of pagan/Celtic reference, I've noticed he's been especially careful as to specify between one and the other. I'm happy. And now that he's going on about continental Europe and Isis and Diana are in the picture, I also feel much more at home. Who would have thought?
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Another friggin POWER OUTAGE!
SO....another power outage. Scheduled for...oh, I don't know, about twenty minutes from now. I hate this crap.
Anyhow, it's cold again, so that's nice. I went to class this morning, bored as hell as usual, but I made a B+ on the analytical reasoning quiz instead of a B! I didn't think that was humanly possible for anyone in the class. Then, I went to Hillel and talked to Manda about some stuff. Won't get into that. After that I tabled for Hillel and Kate sat with me instead of Joanna L because Joanna's got bronchitis and has a fever :-( I hope she gets better soon. She's been sick for a month now. After that, Kate and I walked to Hollywood Video and returned her movie and then she just had to get KFC so we went in there. Now, here I am back in the dorm waiting for the power to die and Kate's in a church with a nasty little bratty eight-year-old tutoring for community service. I think not. She went on a rampage about how I should work at camp like her this summer and I said "No...I think I'll work at Borders. It's my dream job."
She said that would be good for me. Stupid brats. Anyhow, I better turn this off before the power goes. I'll be back later, maybe. Writing the report for Hebrew. I hate Bitchla. By the way. Al haLu'ach, Eta-Meena! Al haLu'ach!!!! Damn it. WE KNOW.
Anyhow, it's cold again, so that's nice. I went to class this morning, bored as hell as usual, but I made a B+ on the analytical reasoning quiz instead of a B! I didn't think that was humanly possible for anyone in the class. Then, I went to Hillel and talked to Manda about some stuff. Won't get into that. After that I tabled for Hillel and Kate sat with me instead of Joanna L because Joanna's got bronchitis and has a fever :-( I hope she gets better soon. She's been sick for a month now. After that, Kate and I walked to Hollywood Video and returned her movie and then she just had to get KFC so we went in there. Now, here I am back in the dorm waiting for the power to die and Kate's in a church with a nasty little bratty eight-year-old tutoring for community service. I think not. She went on a rampage about how I should work at camp like her this summer and I said "No...I think I'll work at Borders. It's my dream job."
She said that would be good for me. Stupid brats. Anyhow, I better turn this off before the power goes. I'll be back later, maybe. Writing the report for Hebrew. I hate Bitchla. By the way. Al haLu'ach, Eta-Meena! Al haLu'ach!!!! Damn it. WE KNOW.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Distance does take it's toll, but perhaps I had it wrong all along. The toll is not of me, but to me, and when people grow up, closeness works the other way around. Distance brings souls closer if they're real for each other. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For being real.
I never had it before, and now, the unmade beings are everywhere, flaunting themselves, hurling themselves upon my reality. I've decided that I must write them away. I must write the angels away. I will write them all away to make room for what is real. I will make room for you because you're real. Real. Real. Real! I have it all and it's real. I can touch it, I can hear it, I can smell it, I can see it--and none of it is ever my imagination.
I never had it before, and now, the unmade beings are everywhere, flaunting themselves, hurling themselves upon my reality. I've decided that I must write them away. I must write the angels away. I will write them all away to make room for what is real. I will make room for you because you're real. Real. Real. Real! I have it all and it's real. I can touch it, I can hear it, I can smell it, I can see it--and none of it is ever my imagination.
Another Angelic Visit
Uriel came again today. They were all there, standing in the middle of the swirling autumn leaves. Wynn came, too. I haven't seen her in years. Since Uriel came. And I spoke in that other language again, and I still remember. The angelic language that rolls off my tongue and no one else's.
"Why now, Uriel?" I asked.
"We hold the wind."
"Like where you were born? I thought that was the desert."
"Aah, but the wind blows somewhere with all of its voices, Little Girl. Now it is an autumn wind. Not a desert wind. We revel in this, too."
Then, humans interrupted and he disappeared but the others were still there, on top buildings, trees, or wavering in the wind on the ground.
When I got away from the people, Wynn came to me.
"Where have you been?" I asked.
"Wandering all over the earth," she said.
"You are like Satan, now," I joked.
"I suppose we all are."
"I forgot what you looked like."
"Yes, child."
"Why do you come to me? Why do you all inflate my world?"
"That is what we are for. Eternity is...boring...if not for human time. Why have it all pass in a moment? This is why."
"Why now, Uriel?" I asked.
"We hold the wind."
"Like where you were born? I thought that was the desert."
"Aah, but the wind blows somewhere with all of its voices, Little Girl. Now it is an autumn wind. Not a desert wind. We revel in this, too."
Then, humans interrupted and he disappeared but the others were still there, on top buildings, trees, or wavering in the wind on the ground.
When I got away from the people, Wynn came to me.
"Where have you been?" I asked.
"Wandering all over the earth," she said.
"You are like Satan, now," I joked.
"I suppose we all are."
"I forgot what you looked like."
"Yes, child."
"Why do you come to me? Why do you all inflate my world?"
"That is what we are for. Eternity is...boring...if not for human time. Why have it all pass in a moment? This is why."
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Fixing a Hole Where the Rain Gets In
I have to fix my mind. Somewhere in there, there has to be some meddling done, some altering. But how do I transcend myself? Too many dreams flood me and the borders are blurred between them all and what is real.
What is real?
I don't know anymore, Mac. I don't know.
Damn it. That was Sibyl Freid. See her? That was Sibyl Freid. I'm that girl again.
Nononononononono. Not again. No not again Sibyl Sibyl. Not again.
You see? Back to it all again. Aliya is her mind, you know. The Ascender. Aliya is her mind, Berekiah the face and the emotion--almost. I will ascend.
Ascend! Ascend! Aliya! Aliya! Ascend! Ascend!
I will ascend to where?I don't know. There're too many angels tonight. The night is dark and full of angels tonight. Will they take me? Will they make me? Will they pull me from it all and erase that everlasting madness?
I want to rid myself of Uriel. But where would I be without him? Whre would all the words be? I must write him away so that he never comes back. Then, I will be myself. No more Sibyl Freid. No more Aliya. I will write him away so that everyone can read him and then he will come no more.
"Aah, now, Little Girl. What say you now?"
"Dream of another, my sweet angel. Dream another before I dream you away."
"I Dream. But only of you."
"I Dream. But it'll be over soon. You're next. Ithaca will have to wait."
"What will the others say, Little Girl? What will become of the Universe?"
"They'll say nothing. Because nonexistence says nothing, is nothing, never was, never will be, never is. That is what I say. That is what they say. Nothing nothing nothing."
What is real?
I don't know anymore, Mac. I don't know.
Damn it. That was Sibyl Freid. See her? That was Sibyl Freid. I'm that girl again.
Nononononononono. Not again. No not again Sibyl Sibyl. Not again.
You see? Back to it all again. Aliya is her mind, you know. The Ascender. Aliya is her mind, Berekiah the face and the emotion--almost. I will ascend.
Ascend! Ascend! Aliya! Aliya! Ascend! Ascend!
I will ascend to where?I don't know. There're too many angels tonight. The night is dark and full of angels tonight. Will they take me? Will they make me? Will they pull me from it all and erase that everlasting madness?
I want to rid myself of Uriel. But where would I be without him? Whre would all the words be? I must write him away so that he never comes back. Then, I will be myself. No more Sibyl Freid. No more Aliya. I will write him away so that everyone can read him and then he will come no more.
"Aah, now, Little Girl. What say you now?"
"Dream of another, my sweet angel. Dream another before I dream you away."
"I Dream. But only of you."
"I Dream. But it'll be over soon. You're next. Ithaca will have to wait."
"What will the others say, Little Girl? What will become of the Universe?"
"They'll say nothing. Because nonexistence says nothing, is nothing, never was, never will be, never is. That is what I say. That is what they say. Nothing nothing nothing."
Friday, November 04, 2005
Same old thing
So it's back to the same old thing. I'm used to it. I'm used to it. I know I know. Well, there's Kate. And I'm not some piece of shit to her. Actually, I'm a friend and she's mine, too, so I'll go with that. The good thing is, she's in both worlds: school and home. It's amazing how you can live down the block from someone for years and never meet them until you go more than a thousand miles away.
I'm really missing some people right now. Really really missing. I want to hear them and they're not there. And I want to see them and they're not here.
Yesterday I was sitting in the middle of a bout 500 people in the cafeteria. Everyone was into conversation with everyone else and I was alone. I can start out with people, and soon they'll fade and the loneliness will set in. "Sweet misery, she loves her company. She's in a crowd when she is all alone."
Go figure.
I'm really missing some people right now. Really really missing. I want to hear them and they're not there. And I want to see them and they're not here.
Yesterday I was sitting in the middle of a bout 500 people in the cafeteria. Everyone was into conversation with everyone else and I was alone. I can start out with people, and soon they'll fade and the loneliness will set in. "Sweet misery, she loves her company. She's in a crowd when she is all alone."
Go figure.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
And it never stops
So, the essays don't ever stop. I didn't realize until recently how intense this school is. Hmm. Well, I guess that's why it was offered Ivy status, huh? So the medieval lit essay is in. I get the midterm back tomorrow and I'm scared shitless when it comes to what the grading will be like. I guess I'll find out shortly. You'll either have a cry or a rant on here soon.
Speculative Fiction rough draft due tomorrow. Only the assignment changed, so it's now two pages and an outline due and I've already done a bit more than that, which is awesome!
Don't want to talk about anything bad on here now. I'm too busy enjoying my hot chocolate. We'll see what happens with things as time wears on, I suppose.
Speculative Fiction rough draft due tomorrow. Only the assignment changed, so it's now two pages and an outline due and I've already done a bit more than that, which is awesome!
Don't want to talk about anything bad on here now. I'm too busy enjoying my hot chocolate. We'll see what happens with things as time wears on, I suppose.
Monday, October 31, 2005
"Going Gone"
There's a lighthouse in the harbour
Giving guidance with its light
But I have no one return to
As I wander through the night
From the first time that I saw you
Standing silent by the shore
I knew my search was all over
And I would look for love no more
Deep in the waters of love I am falling
Sinking like a stone
Deep in my heart I can hear love calling
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Going once! going twice! going gone!
There's a ship on the horizon
Making its way against the wind
and from the place where I stand watching
I swear my ship is coming in
Deep in the waters of love I am falling
Sinking like a stone
Deep in my heart I can hear love calling
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Deep in the waters of love I am falling
Sikining like a stone
Deep in my heart I can hear love calling
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Giving guidance with its light
But I have no one return to
As I wander through the night
From the first time that I saw you
Standing silent by the shore
I knew my search was all over
And I would look for love no more
Deep in the waters of love I am falling
Sinking like a stone
Deep in my heart I can hear love calling
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Going once! going twice! going gone!
There's a ship on the horizon
Making its way against the wind
and from the place where I stand watching
I swear my ship is coming in
Deep in the waters of love I am falling
Sinking like a stone
Deep in my heart I can hear love calling
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Deep in the waters of love I am falling
Sikining like a stone
Deep in my heart I can hear love calling
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Going once! going twice! going gone!
Just for you in my drunk exhausted state
It's not an oval, it's not a twitch. It's not a jaw-movement-back-and-forth, not a scrunch. Not a frown or a smile, but an annoying circular motion of the lips. I can see no muscle movement. No jaw movement. No anything. So how the HELL does he DO IT!?!?! It's so DAMNED ANNOYING! STOP IT!
I'm begging him, STOP IT! And I'll see him in a few hours...ok, my time is all messed up. Tomorrow (Tuesday) first thing in the morning. The circle will prevail. The motion. Like centrepetal force pulling his lips around and around his face. WHAT THE FUCK!?!?
It's not HUMANLY POSSIBLE!!!
Try it. I dare you. *circle* Betty Boop can't even attain the motion except through some horrible, awful, dreadful mistake of the placement of her little pout by a very uneducated, dull-witted animator.
Yet the boy does it. *Wumph*
Just shoot me.
I'm begging him, STOP IT! And I'll see him in a few hours...ok, my time is all messed up. Tomorrow (Tuesday) first thing in the morning. The circle will prevail. The motion. Like centrepetal force pulling his lips around and around his face. WHAT THE FUCK!?!?
It's not HUMANLY POSSIBLE!!!
Try it. I dare you. *circle* Betty Boop can't even attain the motion except through some horrible, awful, dreadful mistake of the placement of her little pout by a very uneducated, dull-witted animator.
Yet the boy does it. *Wumph*
Just shoot me.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Maine Run
I went up to Maine today with Jordana and her mother. It took us about 8 hours because we stopped in about a million places on the way up. So the 2 hour trip was quadrupled. Anyhow, we stopped at the Ba'hai school, Green Acre, where Jordana spent the summer and clothing stores to get Jordana a coat. She got this awesome one and I want it!! I got a really nice pair of leather gloves because of the cold that has suddenly ambushed me (first snow today!) and then we went to the ocean and looked at rocks and kelp and the waves. Afterwards, we went to Maine's most famous lighthouse. I don't know what it's called but it's the absolute stereotypical lighthouse, equipped with the red flashing light, the house attached to it, the rocky coves and tide pools surrounding it, and no way to get to it by boat or dolly.
Next, we finally made it to their area, and stopped off to get this amazing homemade apple pie that I'm dying for again. Just as we pulled up to that, I finished making my hat that goes with my scarf. Yay! I talked to Lindsay for abotu 8 million hours and told her I'd make her a matching set like mine if she buys the yarn. Peacock color rocks. Naomi is making a blanket from it and it's amazing.
Finally, finally, we made it to the farm. I went right to the computer and finished my medieval lit paper...before 9:00!!!!! MiRACLE OF MIRACLES. Kienan from home edited over the internet and I'm such a dork that I actually cut and pasted all his comments into a file so that I can go back to it tomorrow and put them all in before I go peer edit with Keen and Rachel.
On top of things, Kienan just told me (reminded me) that tonight daylight's saving time ends! Hell YES! And extra hour of sleep!
While I was having my 8 million hour conversation with Lindsay Mark called to tell me that he was calling me. No shit. And then I said I'd call back and he said his phone would be off because he had no batteries. So: WHY THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING ME WITH NO BATTERIES?!?!!? I don't understand people who do that. Whatever.
In the middle of the 8 million hours I tried to help get Jordana's pants hemmed but that didn't go over so well. One pair was red and bleached at the bottom so she said she'd color the white spot in with permanent marker. *what a strange, ingenious idea?????* And now I'm exhausted.
MUST SLEEP.
Next, we finally made it to their area, and stopped off to get this amazing homemade apple pie that I'm dying for again. Just as we pulled up to that, I finished making my hat that goes with my scarf. Yay! I talked to Lindsay for abotu 8 million hours and told her I'd make her a matching set like mine if she buys the yarn. Peacock color rocks. Naomi is making a blanket from it and it's amazing.
Finally, finally, we made it to the farm. I went right to the computer and finished my medieval lit paper...before 9:00!!!!! MiRACLE OF MIRACLES. Kienan from home edited over the internet and I'm such a dork that I actually cut and pasted all his comments into a file so that I can go back to it tomorrow and put them all in before I go peer edit with Keen and Rachel.
On top of things, Kienan just told me (reminded me) that tonight daylight's saving time ends! Hell YES! And extra hour of sleep!
While I was having my 8 million hour conversation with Lindsay Mark called to tell me that he was calling me. No shit. And then I said I'd call back and he said his phone would be off because he had no batteries. So: WHY THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING ME WITH NO BATTERIES?!?!!? I don't understand people who do that. Whatever.
In the middle of the 8 million hours I tried to help get Jordana's pants hemmed but that didn't go over so well. One pair was red and bleached at the bottom so she said she'd color the white spot in with permanent marker. *what a strange, ingenious idea?????* And now I'm exhausted.
MUST SLEEP.
Friday, October 28, 2005
More Paper
I'm procrastinating with David Coyne outside the Hillel office. And not doing the paper. I will do the paper shortly. When I leave and go to the library and get a book on werewolf symbolism and paganism blah blah blah.
I got almost three whole pages written last night. So yay. Maybe it won't be so bad after all. It's supposed to snow tomorrow! Snow! I'm not really looking forward to such a long winter but I guess that's what I get for going to the cold. I love the cold, but I don't like the lack of color. Bland to the eyes. I've heard people say that the white bores into you so much and depresses the whole world that people cut their wrists just to see the bright red when they bleed.
I got almost three whole pages written last night. So yay. Maybe it won't be so bad after all. It's supposed to snow tomorrow! Snow! I'm not really looking forward to such a long winter but I guess that's what I get for going to the cold. I love the cold, but I don't like the lack of color. Bland to the eyes. I've heard people say that the white bores into you so much and depresses the whole world that people cut their wrists just to see the bright red when they bleed.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Midterm etc
So I just got out of the midterm for Medieval Lit about an hour ago. Not so bad, I don't think. Hopefully, that'll prove to be true. I guess I was stressing more about the midterm than I thought because as soon as I was done I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.
Now I have to go back to that paper. I'm stressing beyond measure over that one. It's ridiculous. I feel like I'm failing out of college when I think about it and everything. Thank G-d the SpecFic essay was moved back to Thursday. I would have really died if it had remained Tuesday. That would have killed me. Keen, too. I'm out now. Iquo's coming home, though!! So exciting. All because I'm desperate and don't spend any money.
Now I have to go back to that paper. I'm stressing beyond measure over that one. It's ridiculous. I feel like I'm failing out of college when I think about it and everything. Thank G-d the SpecFic essay was moved back to Thursday. I would have really died if it had remained Tuesday. That would have killed me. Keen, too. I'm out now. Iquo's coming home, though!! So exciting. All because I'm desperate and don't spend any money.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Grieving for the Seraphim
Some people fade. Many people fade. They fade into the hovering, glowering mists of the dirty Past that pound at my consciousness. So let them fade. Whether they be sister, friend, or brother. Let them fade until there is no memory.
I'll throw you back there. I'll throw you back so that it will all be black. I'll throw you back so that my mind knows nothing of you. I'll think of you like I think of Africa--that far off continent I know nothing of. Where the sun pounds ceaselessly, yet looms high and low like a dark abyss in my mind.
Make me come around. The angels loom. I turne and they stand across from me, around me, inside me.
"You're delusion, aren't you?"
"No."
"Liar!"
"Make us end, then, Little Girl. Make us end."
"What happened to our Dreaming?"
"Aah, what happened? You taste the distraction, Little Girl. You feel the wind. You feel your life. You are growing up."
"What's that got to do with Dreaming, Uriel?"
The angel smiles. "Everything."
"Uriel! Don't leave me! Don't leave me now!"
"The sand and the stone are one. The rain and the sea are one. Dream of all that is good and bad and you will find that the Dream goes on."
"Without me?"
"No. Without anyone. All Dreams intertwine. We are the difference. The homogenuity. We are the same, Little Girl."
If he had hands, his fingers would be reaching, caressing my chin. But he doesn't, so I feel where he would be.
"Will she forget me? Like everyone else?" I ask.
The angel looks down and I can't interpret his expression, because, like all angels, he has none, except what I imagine it to be. If I could see, I imagine it would be sorrow.
"Yes, Little Girl. She will forget you. Like everyone else."
"Why?"
"Because you are too much to take."
"They don't think so."
"Aah. They are different."
"Can I ask you a question again?"
"As always."
"Are they you?"
He smiles again. I can almost see it this time.
"Yes?" I ask.
"They feel you, Little Girl. They give up nothing for a heart. They were born with hearts."
"Do they love me? So that they won't forget me?"
"Who can tell from this moment?"
"You know everything, you said. All Eternity. Where has that gone?"
"To sleep, Little Girl. To sleep."
"Your Sight has gone to sleep?"
"No. My heart is born. I will not fall again."
The angel looks away.
"What is it?"
"The desert calls."
"Wait!"
He turns back.
"Yes?"
"Did I destroy you, Uriel?"
"Yes."
"Did I destroy others?"
"You will."
"I don't mean to. I don't mean to break hearts."
"I know, Little Girl. I know," he whispers.
"Like you know Eternity?"
"You saw me the other day. The other boy you dream about."
My eyes snapped to where his would be if he had them.
"That was you?"
"Yes. Go to him."
"No."
"Yes. I am real."
"You are an angel."
"I am human. Human for a lifetime, then back to empyrean skies."
"That's why he's always smiling and passing me by..."
"Yes, Little Girl. That's why I'm always smiling and passing you by."
"Uriel?"
"Yes, Little Girl?"
"Why?"
"Because I promised you."
"You didn't save me."
"No."
"He didn't either, did he?"
"No."
I smiled as happiness spread over me.
"I saved myself."
"Aah, Little Girl. Now you understand."
I smiled again.
And the angel was gone.
I'll throw you back there. I'll throw you back so that it will all be black. I'll throw you back so that my mind knows nothing of you. I'll think of you like I think of Africa--that far off continent I know nothing of. Where the sun pounds ceaselessly, yet looms high and low like a dark abyss in my mind.
Make me come around. The angels loom. I turne and they stand across from me, around me, inside me.
"You're delusion, aren't you?"
"No."
"Liar!"
"Make us end, then, Little Girl. Make us end."
"What happened to our Dreaming?"
"Aah, what happened? You taste the distraction, Little Girl. You feel the wind. You feel your life. You are growing up."
"What's that got to do with Dreaming, Uriel?"
The angel smiles. "Everything."
"Uriel! Don't leave me! Don't leave me now!"
"The sand and the stone are one. The rain and the sea are one. Dream of all that is good and bad and you will find that the Dream goes on."
"Without me?"
"No. Without anyone. All Dreams intertwine. We are the difference. The homogenuity. We are the same, Little Girl."
If he had hands, his fingers would be reaching, caressing my chin. But he doesn't, so I feel where he would be.
"Will she forget me? Like everyone else?" I ask.
The angel looks down and I can't interpret his expression, because, like all angels, he has none, except what I imagine it to be. If I could see, I imagine it would be sorrow.
"Yes, Little Girl. She will forget you. Like everyone else."
"Why?"
"Because you are too much to take."
"They don't think so."
"Aah. They are different."
"Can I ask you a question again?"
"As always."
"Are they you?"
He smiles again. I can almost see it this time.
"Yes?" I ask.
"They feel you, Little Girl. They give up nothing for a heart. They were born with hearts."
"Do they love me? So that they won't forget me?"
"Who can tell from this moment?"
"You know everything, you said. All Eternity. Where has that gone?"
"To sleep, Little Girl. To sleep."
"Your Sight has gone to sleep?"
"No. My heart is born. I will not fall again."
The angel looks away.
"What is it?"
"The desert calls."
"Wait!"
He turns back.
"Yes?"
"Did I destroy you, Uriel?"
"Yes."
"Did I destroy others?"
"You will."
"I don't mean to. I don't mean to break hearts."
"I know, Little Girl. I know," he whispers.
"Like you know Eternity?"
"You saw me the other day. The other boy you dream about."
My eyes snapped to where his would be if he had them.
"That was you?"
"Yes. Go to him."
"No."
"Yes. I am real."
"You are an angel."
"I am human. Human for a lifetime, then back to empyrean skies."
"That's why he's always smiling and passing me by..."
"Yes, Little Girl. That's why I'm always smiling and passing you by."
"Uriel?"
"Yes, Little Girl?"
"Why?"
"Because I promised you."
"You didn't save me."
"No."
"He didn't either, did he?"
"No."
I smiled as happiness spread over me.
"I saved myself."
"Aah, Little Girl. Now you understand."
I smiled again.
And the angel was gone.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Again and Again
Power went out again in the quad. wtf? Anyhow, I've just gotten off work, rushed over to this computer to check some stuff due to power outage and find out it was back on awhile ago, so hopefully, I'll have nothing to worry about. After this, I'm running to the library to do that research and then find Keen and work on the papers. Joyous. Then, back to work. I finished The Man in the High Castle and all the Hebrew homework, minus the 6 other sentences about "me." I'll do those later. As in tomorrow. And then there's AR homework but easy stuff. Then, maybe maybe maybe I can rest. Do all the research today, write the paper tomorrow. Be done by Thursday. Then do the other paper. And now there's some issue with whether I can go to Maine or not because Dan D(the second) says he forgot about the coverage and might not be able to do it! Damn it.
And Miles To Go Before I Sleep...
Well, I'm done with the 300 pages of reading! For today...Tomorrow: Spec Fic (I actually took notes the entire time and highlighted--aren't you proud??) All in preparation for the discussion, of course. Then, work 12-3. Keen and library for MedLit paper 3:20-6ish. Work 6-7. Then, guess what? More studying!!! Maybe a movie if the stupid thing actually gets here. AND paper writing! Because the SpecFic was posted and I'm going down to the dungeon journal archives (pre1975 and post) with Keen tomorrow in the library and so maybe (maybe maybe maybe) we can actually get some research done and write the damnable paper(s?). Probably just the medlit. enough enough! Yes, I'm cracking. SO much stress.
Finally got through to Kelly Long today. Apparently, she was in the hospital with chest pains until today. She's ok now. "Anxiety." I've been trying to reach her for two weeks or so. She handed the phone over to Big Scott and we blabbed on for about half an hour. The kids were screaming in the background. Then I went back to reading.
Got my package from Daddy today. Pillow included. *I missed Pillow* Naomi's going to fix him for me once I get the material for the cover and some stuffing. Yay for Pillow! Mom has just completely done it on time. *tisk* Friggin YEAR and nothing. Anyhow, I got my New Yorkers, too, my medicine and a letter from Dad. And a mug. So I sat here reading The Man in the High Castle and drinking hot chocolate out of my own cup!
Due to all the business, I haven't seen anyone here for two weeks really. At least we haven't hung out at all. We're all too busy scrambling for books and grades. Actually, found out about the MedLit midterm on Thursday. Open book and note for the two essays. So I'm going to chum over those with a few people to get some ideas mulching and then blast it out of the water. (Hopefully) NO! DEFINITELY.
Hmmm what else? Almost better. Just stuffy/runny nose. Tired as hell, too. Haven't talked to some people in a while. *Ahem* Mark called today for about two seconds. Woke me up, as usual, during my mid-day Monday nap. So I got up anyway and went to class a little early. And I think that's fast. I have to fix my clock. The power outage fried it so it's been getting continuously faster. I think it's up to 12 minutes now. :-(
That's all. Nighty night!
Finally got through to Kelly Long today. Apparently, she was in the hospital with chest pains until today. She's ok now. "Anxiety." I've been trying to reach her for two weeks or so. She handed the phone over to Big Scott and we blabbed on for about half an hour. The kids were screaming in the background. Then I went back to reading.
Got my package from Daddy today. Pillow included. *I missed Pillow* Naomi's going to fix him for me once I get the material for the cover and some stuffing. Yay for Pillow! Mom has just completely done it on time. *tisk* Friggin YEAR and nothing. Anyhow, I got my New Yorkers, too, my medicine and a letter from Dad. And a mug. So I sat here reading The Man in the High Castle and drinking hot chocolate out of my own cup!
Due to all the business, I haven't seen anyone here for two weeks really. At least we haven't hung out at all. We're all too busy scrambling for books and grades. Actually, found out about the MedLit midterm on Thursday. Open book and note for the two essays. So I'm going to chum over those with a few people to get some ideas mulching and then blast it out of the water. (Hopefully) NO! DEFINITELY.
Hmmm what else? Almost better. Just stuffy/runny nose. Tired as hell, too. Haven't talked to some people in a while. *Ahem* Mark called today for about two seconds. Woke me up, as usual, during my mid-day Monday nap. So I got up anyway and went to class a little early. And I think that's fast. I have to fix my clock. The power outage fried it so it's been getting continuously faster. I think it's up to 12 minutes now. :-(
That's all. Nighty night!
Sunday, October 23, 2005
What Jogg'ed Memory
It began Christmas Day, 1995. I stood on the sidewalk, buried in my coat and gloves, watching as my parents cursed the four feet of snow that encased the Dodge Dynasty. After an hour or so of exuming, my father climbed in the car and unsuccessfully tried to spark the ignition.
Ten minutes later, Emerett Parson from downstairs and one wall over was giving us a hand, juicing our car. And then we were on our way. It was the last time I would ever live in Brooklyn, New York.
We made it to New Jersey and stayed the night with my grandmother. In the morning, my parents rememberd they'd forgotten the lockbox and went running back to the Belt Parkway and Brooklyn.
But damn it! Enough of the Past! Enough of it! Enough of it! Enough of the goddamned Past!
And those were the last momenets--me--standing in the snow.
Me.
Standing in the snow and it melts around to water until the Mason-Dixon line.
They said the ocean was 85 degrees Fahrenheit when we arrived. No more winter clothes. December 27. But I don't rmember going to the ocean then. I don't remember.
We ran into the house. A house. No more inner city apartments. Rowhouses. My brothers ran along behind me. Into the house.
Rented, of course--but a house. Date palm in the front, magnolia beside it. And we looked out the wall-window from our knees on the oatmeal floor at the sunny, burning street.
And we didn't go to the ocean.
I walked along the lip between the grass and the gutter, and I found a boy across the street but I didn't find a friend.
Later, he went away from his father and stepmother. Eventually, two more children were born, but Terri wasn't there. I became friends with his stepmother--Charlene--if a person 21 years or more older than you can be called a friend when you're 11.
She said he had to go because he never quite got over the death of his mother from two or three years before--maybe more, but I can't remember now. Ten years is a long time. I guess two years is, too.
His mother was crossing the street--going home, maybe, or to lunch--when an eighteen-wheeler came by.
Sometimes paths corss too closely. Sometimes too closely.
So the boy who never became my friend got sent away to learn to cope with his mind--and the memory of his mother and the truck that took her life.
Ten minutes later, Emerett Parson from downstairs and one wall over was giving us a hand, juicing our car. And then we were on our way. It was the last time I would ever live in Brooklyn, New York.
We made it to New Jersey and stayed the night with my grandmother. In the morning, my parents rememberd they'd forgotten the lockbox and went running back to the Belt Parkway and Brooklyn.
But damn it! Enough of the Past! Enough of it! Enough of it! Enough of the goddamned Past!
And those were the last momenets--me--standing in the snow.
Me.
Standing in the snow and it melts around to water until the Mason-Dixon line.
They said the ocean was 85 degrees Fahrenheit when we arrived. No more winter clothes. December 27. But I don't rmember going to the ocean then. I don't remember.
We ran into the house. A house. No more inner city apartments. Rowhouses. My brothers ran along behind me. Into the house.
Rented, of course--but a house. Date palm in the front, magnolia beside it. And we looked out the wall-window from our knees on the oatmeal floor at the sunny, burning street.
And we didn't go to the ocean.
I walked along the lip between the grass and the gutter, and I found a boy across the street but I didn't find a friend.
Later, he went away from his father and stepmother. Eventually, two more children were born, but Terri wasn't there. I became friends with his stepmother--Charlene--if a person 21 years or more older than you can be called a friend when you're 11.
She said he had to go because he never quite got over the death of his mother from two or three years before--maybe more, but I can't remember now. Ten years is a long time. I guess two years is, too.
His mother was crossing the street--going home, maybe, or to lunch--when an eighteen-wheeler came by.
Sometimes paths corss too closely. Sometimes too closely.
So the boy who never became my friend got sent away to learn to cope with his mind--and the memory of his mother and the truck that took her life.
* * *
I climbed the magnolia tree. Fifty feet wide and fifty feet up. This is the first time I've metioned it. But Bob said he hated children in his tree.
"No monkeys in my tree."
"Sorry. Sorry."
"Git out. No climbin in my tree."
So for the rest of the time, I only imagined.
"No monkeys in my tree."
"Sorry. Sorry."
"Git out. No climbin in my tree."
So for the rest of the time, I only imagined.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Sick
I'm sick. Almost very very sick, but only very. I feel like collapsing. To write this, I had to force myself to get up, dragged myself out to go get some water and come back here and write a few coherent sentences. On top of all of that, I have the rotation shift at work tonight from 11-3. (That's a.m.) And in the morning I have that shift from 10-1. Then I have to go to the library and get sources for the paper I don't know what the hell I'm doing on.
Manual labour is the best for this sort of condition, isn't it? It's not that hard tonight, Brendan said. Only set Grace lecture style for 50, I think. BUt I'm not looking forward to it and I think it started raining again. I'll definitely be taking escort over there and back. And asking a police escort to haul me to and from the gate. All these rapes and muggings lately. One thing I don't want is for any of those to be me or anyone I know. So far, I haven't known anyone who's even known someone this year. And they arrested someone last week, but I'm a little nervous that one day, the idiot with the knife or whatever his weapon is isn't going to be a coward and put it away everytime someone says "Oh, put it away! It frightens me!" and stabs someone.
Anyhow, back to sleep, I guess. Eating or trying to (glad I went to Price Chopper) and more of Grettir's Saga (aka the asshole's saga).
Manual labour is the best for this sort of condition, isn't it? It's not that hard tonight, Brendan said. Only set Grace lecture style for 50, I think. BUt I'm not looking forward to it and I think it started raining again. I'll definitely be taking escort over there and back. And asking a police escort to haul me to and from the gate. All these rapes and muggings lately. One thing I don't want is for any of those to be me or anyone I know. So far, I haven't known anyone who's even known someone this year. And they arrested someone last week, but I'm a little nervous that one day, the idiot with the knife or whatever his weapon is isn't going to be a coward and put it away everytime someone says "Oh, put it away! It frightens me!" and stabs someone.
Anyhow, back to sleep, I guess. Eating or trying to (glad I went to Price Chopper) and more of Grettir's Saga (aka the asshole's saga).
Friday, October 21, 2005
More of Life
Well, it seems to be that I'm getting sick. Not much of a surprise considering the past week's middle-of-the-night junk. Waking up, being woken up. Well, mostly woken up. Last night I couldn't sleep for whatever reason and kept tossing and turning. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that I actually made my bed and have kept my room neat for about a week. That always gets me edgy and when things are neat it's almost certain I won't be able to find anything in the morning or whenever I need them because they're away. Who ever thought of that?? Organization sucks. (When it comes to bedrooms.)
Anyhow, saw an aforementioned person again (I won't mention the name here, but considering I've told you other things concerning them...yeah, you can guess.) Moving on with the story, I sit down after going to Price Chopper and finally getting my kosher meat for my refrigerator so I can actually eat in this place and not get inorganic body poisoning and she asks me "So, what's up? I haven't seen you in forEVER."
"Oh, nothing much. Just went shopping."
"For what?"
"Food."
"Oh..." (makes face). Then, jumpy all happy: "What else is up?"
"I don't know..." so I say the first thing that comes to mind. "My two best friends are becoming friends."
"Is this a good thing?"
"Yes."
"Two boys?"
"No."
"Two girls?"
"No."
"One of each?"
"Yes."
"Oh..." looks down, then looks up. "Are they going to kiss?"
"Umm..."
"Do you want them to?"
"Ummm...." (wtfing in my brain) "I don't know...it's not likely, but who knows what can happen these days?"
"Oh! Well that's good!"
Wow.
Well, there. The weirdness of my life continues. Just what we all want to be thinking of. Since maybe both of you are reading this, I'm still just going to say "wow" again and laugh. What is up with this sexual obsession with people???
I seriously don't get it. I can definitely more than live (definitely survive) without any of that crap. Oh well.
Other part of the night last night: right after this, I went to perform at Freud's again. There were actually other performers but one of my groupies missed me because of some lab or whatever, so after it closed, I gave her and a few others a private concert. Then Dan D(the first) walked me back to my dorm and we hung out until about 1:30-ish.
That's kind of nice. Jordana was reading when we walked in, and we couldn't tell whether she was actually reading, asleep, or pretending to either. I had to walk over to her and look. Reading. Then Dan left and I went to sleep or tried to, but I couldn't quite get there until about 4:30. Lovely.
Oops. I have to go now! Hillel dinner and stuff for shabbat. Oh. The Chabadniks have been roaming the campus. It's so funny. They walk up to you say: "Excuse me are you Jewish?"
"Yes," I said. "I already shook it." "Oh," they say and walk away dejected. (Shaking the lulav and etrog of course...for Sukkot.)
Dan said he ran into them, they go: "Excuse me, are you Jewish?" "No! But how are you?" "Fine..." and they run away. Aaah, the joys of proseletyzing to your own religion and being so isolationist and scared that you pee in your pants anytime you find yourself anywhere near a goy.
And I went to school with these people. See why I'm tramatized?
Anyhow, saw an aforementioned person again (I won't mention the name here, but considering I've told you other things concerning them...yeah, you can guess.) Moving on with the story, I sit down after going to Price Chopper and finally getting my kosher meat for my refrigerator so I can actually eat in this place and not get inorganic body poisoning and she asks me "So, what's up? I haven't seen you in forEVER."
"Oh, nothing much. Just went shopping."
"For what?"
"Food."
"Oh..." (makes face). Then, jumpy all happy: "What else is up?"
"I don't know..." so I say the first thing that comes to mind. "My two best friends are becoming friends."
"Is this a good thing?"
"Yes."
"Two boys?"
"No."
"Two girls?"
"No."
"One of each?"
"Yes."
"Oh..." looks down, then looks up. "Are they going to kiss?"
"Umm..."
"Do you want them to?"
"Ummm...." (wtfing in my brain) "I don't know...it's not likely, but who knows what can happen these days?"
"Oh! Well that's good!"
Wow.
Well, there. The weirdness of my life continues. Just what we all want to be thinking of. Since maybe both of you are reading this, I'm still just going to say "wow" again and laugh. What is up with this sexual obsession with people???
I seriously don't get it. I can definitely more than live (definitely survive) without any of that crap. Oh well.
Other part of the night last night: right after this, I went to perform at Freud's again. There were actually other performers but one of my groupies missed me because of some lab or whatever, so after it closed, I gave her and a few others a private concert. Then Dan D(the first) walked me back to my dorm and we hung out until about 1:30-ish.
That's kind of nice. Jordana was reading when we walked in, and we couldn't tell whether she was actually reading, asleep, or pretending to either. I had to walk over to her and look. Reading. Then Dan left and I went to sleep or tried to, but I couldn't quite get there until about 4:30. Lovely.
Oops. I have to go now! Hillel dinner and stuff for shabbat. Oh. The Chabadniks have been roaming the campus. It's so funny. They walk up to you say: "Excuse me are you Jewish?"
"Yes," I said. "I already shook it." "Oh," they say and walk away dejected. (Shaking the lulav and etrog of course...for Sukkot.)
Dan said he ran into them, they go: "Excuse me, are you Jewish?" "No! But how are you?" "Fine..." and they run away. Aaah, the joys of proseletyzing to your own religion and being so isolationist and scared that you pee in your pants anytime you find yourself anywhere near a goy.
And I went to school with these people. See why I'm tramatized?
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Unknown but Checked
Everyone's a hypocrite. At least in the end.
I remember them screaming "America!" at the same moment they flew the Stars and Bars. I remember them crying "Traitor!" at the First Amendment.
But we still have a democracy--as long as we can keep it? It's slipping. It's slipping, sliding, like the salamanders of Whitemarsh Island, of the marshes and the humid, sickly, swamps of the thriving South.
Oh, they will win the war, rise again. I see it now. I saw it then--through the eyes of a child--almost comprehending the chants, vibrating through my skull along the heat.
Stones.
I remember stones.
And the chant, too.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
And the stones because of the Jew.
And the stones because of the Jew.
But I don't know the stereotypes--still, today.
I don't understand the difference--or why.
But it's all caught up in the Southern heat and my memory buckles to its own defeat and their hate and their hate and their hate.
And I remember--it's never too late for the black-white blank slate--the racial bait that spits and tears.
But they're winning the war--faces grinning, muscles sore.
Creep on-Creep off.
And the stones bombard my bones for the quick-fix death of my race
-your race
-And the Stars entangling Bars erase my face.
The stones don't get it--
The bones don't get it--
The laughing, throwing hands don't get it.
So humanity remains disgraced.
End it.
We will.
In the Alley of Finale because never never never never
does hate abate.
I remember them screaming "America!" at the same moment they flew the Stars and Bars. I remember them crying "Traitor!" at the First Amendment.
But we still have a democracy--as long as we can keep it? It's slipping. It's slipping, sliding, like the salamanders of Whitemarsh Island, of the marshes and the humid, sickly, swamps of the thriving South.
Oh, they will win the war, rise again. I see it now. I saw it then--through the eyes of a child--almost comprehending the chants, vibrating through my skull along the heat.
Stones.
I remember stones.
And the chant, too.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
And the stones because of the Jew.
And the stones because of the Jew.
But I don't know the stereotypes--still, today.
I don't understand the difference--or why.
But it's all caught up in the Southern heat and my memory buckles to its own defeat and their hate and their hate and their hate.
And I remember--it's never too late for the black-white blank slate--the racial bait that spits and tears.
But they're winning the war--faces grinning, muscles sore.
Creep on-Creep off.
And the stones bombard my bones for the quick-fix death of my race
-your race
-And the Stars entangling Bars erase my face.
The stones don't get it--
The bones don't get it--
The laughing, throwing hands don't get it.
So humanity remains disgraced.
End it.
We will.
In the Alley of Finale because never never never never
does hate abate.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Random Brothers' Moronic Whatever
Here's my brothers' whatever to me on the internet today. I think it was worse on the phone, though...don't ask. I don't understand it either.
(20:23:29) FireEmpire55: hi
(20:24:35) a HangMansBurden: hi!
(20:24:38) a HangMansBurden: noah, right?
(20:24:46) FireEmpire55: yeah
(20:24:55) a HangMansBurden: feel like calling me?
(20:24:58) a HangMansBurden: i miss you:-(
(20:24:58) FireEmpire55: sam's here 2
(20:25:03) a HangMansBurden: hi sam!
(20:25:07) FireEmpire55: i know
(20:25:15) FireEmpire55: sam says hi
(20:26:16) a HangMansBurden: yay
(20:26:19) FireEmpire55: hello
(20:26:19) a HangMansBurden: so are you calling me?
(20:26:24) FireEmpire55: wut?
(20:26:39) FireEmpire55: do u meen
(20:26:41) a HangMansBurden: you're not calling me:-(
(20:26:42) a HangMansBurden: on the PHONE
(20:26:44) FireEmpire55: ?
(20:26:46) FireEmpire55: oh
(20:26:47) a HangMansBurden: call me on the phone
(20:26:52) FireEmpire55: :-D
(20:26:56) a HangMansBurden: :-D
(20:27:00) a HangMansBurden: 770-***-****
(20:27:09) FireEmpire55: can't call rite now
(20:27:23) FireEmpire55: 2 lazy to go get phone
(20:27:24) a HangMansBurden: why?
(20:27:30) a HangMansBurden: aren't you sitting next to it?
(20:27:38) FireEmpire55: :-D
(20:27:43) FireEmpire55: no
(20:27:43) a HangMansBurden: i hate you
(20:27:48) FireEmpire55: wait
(20:27:50) a HangMansBurden: the white one by the computer?
(20:27:51) a HangMansBurden: HELLO
(20:27:54) a HangMansBurden: it's right there
(20:28:02) FireEmpire55: do u meen the cell phone
(20:28:11) FireEmpire55: :-D
(20:28:12) a HangMansBurden: no
(20:28:15) a HangMansBurden: i mean the house phone
(20:28:19) FireEmpire55: ok
(20:28:20) a HangMansBurden: i'm a local number, guys
(20:28:23) a HangMansBurden: duh
(20:28:28) FireEmpire55: i'll call later.
(20:28:31) FireEmpire55: he he
(20:28:38) a HangMansBurden: *tisk*
(20:28:41) a HangMansBurden: i'll be busy studying later
(20:28:43) FireEmpire55: he he
(20:28:46) FireEmpire55: ok
(20:28:57) FireEmpire55: :-(
(20:29:04) a HangMansBurden: yeah
(20:29:09) FireEmpire55: i hate hw
(20:29:13) FireEmpire55: it sucks
(20:29:27) FireEmpire55: silent sam
(20:30:04) a HangMansBurden: yes
(20:30:08) a HangMansBurden: what about "silent sam"??
(20:30:18) FireEmpire55: he's not talking
(20:30:21) a HangMansBurden: fine
(20:30:24) a HangMansBurden: can you PLEASE call me/
(20:30:27) a HangMansBurden: i want to talk to you
(20:30:33) FireEmpire55: but he's mad at rockie
(20:30:45) FireEmpire55: wutever
(20:30:58) FireEmpire55: its retarded
(20:31:18) a HangMansBurden: i'm calling you. answr the phone when it rings
(20:31:19) FireEmpire55: wut there mad at each other about
(20:31:19) a HangMansBurden: ok?
(20:31:25) FireEmpire55: sure
(20:31:39) FireEmpire55: i still want to im though
(20:32:16) FireEmpire55: D:-)
(20:33:05) FireEmpire55: O:-):'(
(20:33:16) FireEmpire55: O:-)
(20:34:02) FireEmpire55: :-*
(20:34:15) FireEmpire55: this is rockie to someone
(20:34:23) FireEmpire55: then
(20:34:36) FireEmpire55: sam's like:-O
(20:35:12) FireEmpire55: >:O
(20:35:30) FireEmpire55: then rockies like >:O
(20:36:14) FireEmpire55: than i'm likeO:-)
(20:36:54) FireEmpire55: than sam and rockie r both like >:o
(21:06:12) a HangMansBurden: you're both nuts
(20:23:29) FireEmpire55: hi
(20:24:35) a HangMansBurden: hi!
(20:24:38) a HangMansBurden: noah, right?
(20:24:46) FireEmpire55: yeah
(20:24:55) a HangMansBurden: feel like calling me?
(20:24:58) a HangMansBurden: i miss you:-(
(20:24:58) FireEmpire55: sam's here 2
(20:25:03) a HangMansBurden: hi sam!
(20:25:07) FireEmpire55: i know
(20:25:15) FireEmpire55: sam says hi
(20:26:16) a HangMansBurden: yay
(20:26:19) FireEmpire55: hello
(20:26:19) a HangMansBurden: so are you calling me?
(20:26:24) FireEmpire55: wut?
(20:26:39) FireEmpire55: do u meen
(20:26:41) a HangMansBurden: you're not calling me:-(
(20:26:42) a HangMansBurden: on the PHONE
(20:26:44) FireEmpire55: ?
(20:26:46) FireEmpire55: oh
(20:26:47) a HangMansBurden: call me on the phone
(20:26:52) FireEmpire55: :-D
(20:26:56) a HangMansBurden: :-D
(20:27:00) a HangMansBurden: 770-***-****
(20:27:09) FireEmpire55: can't call rite now
(20:27:23) FireEmpire55: 2 lazy to go get phone
(20:27:24) a HangMansBurden: why?
(20:27:30) a HangMansBurden: aren't you sitting next to it?
(20:27:38) FireEmpire55: :-D
(20:27:43) FireEmpire55: no
(20:27:43) a HangMansBurden: i hate you
(20:27:48) FireEmpire55: wait
(20:27:50) a HangMansBurden: the white one by the computer?
(20:27:51) a HangMansBurden: HELLO
(20:27:54) a HangMansBurden: it's right there
(20:28:02) FireEmpire55: do u meen the cell phone
(20:28:11) FireEmpire55: :-D
(20:28:12) a HangMansBurden: no
(20:28:15) a HangMansBurden: i mean the house phone
(20:28:19) FireEmpire55: ok
(20:28:20) a HangMansBurden: i'm a local number, guys
(20:28:23) a HangMansBurden: duh
(20:28:28) FireEmpire55: i'll call later.
(20:28:31) FireEmpire55: he he
(20:28:38) a HangMansBurden: *tisk*
(20:28:41) a HangMansBurden: i'll be busy studying later
(20:28:43) FireEmpire55: he he
(20:28:46) FireEmpire55: ok
(20:28:57) FireEmpire55: :-(
(20:29:04) a HangMansBurden: yeah
(20:29:09) FireEmpire55: i hate hw
(20:29:13) FireEmpire55: it sucks
(20:29:27) FireEmpire55: silent sam
(20:30:04) a HangMansBurden: yes
(20:30:08) a HangMansBurden: what about "silent sam"??
(20:30:18) FireEmpire55: he's not talking
(20:30:21) a HangMansBurden: fine
(20:30:24) a HangMansBurden: can you PLEASE call me/
(20:30:27) a HangMansBurden: i want to talk to you
(20:30:33) FireEmpire55: but he's mad at rockie
(20:30:45) FireEmpire55: wutever
(20:30:58) FireEmpire55: its retarded
(20:31:18) a HangMansBurden: i'm calling you. answr the phone when it rings
(20:31:19) FireEmpire55: wut there mad at each other about
(20:31:19) a HangMansBurden: ok?
(20:31:25) FireEmpire55: sure
(20:31:39) FireEmpire55: i still want to im though
(20:32:16) FireEmpire55: D:-)
(20:33:05) FireEmpire55: O:-):'(
(20:33:16) FireEmpire55: O:-)
(20:34:02) FireEmpire55: :-*
(20:34:15) FireEmpire55: this is rockie to someone
(20:34:23) FireEmpire55: then
(20:34:36) FireEmpire55: sam's like:-O
(20:35:12) FireEmpire55: >:O
(20:35:30) FireEmpire55: then rockies like >:O
(20:36:14) FireEmpire55: than i'm likeO:-)
(20:36:54) FireEmpire55: than sam and rockie r both like >:o
(21:06:12) a HangMansBurden: you're both nuts
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