7777
09/22/2003 03:49 a.m.
how funny, i have 7777 reads.
I am currently Detached
I am listening to file cabinets slamming.

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ah, che ridicolo
09/22/2003 03:32 a.m.
i am feeling incredibly frantic and quickly falling. it was a mania, a nice disturbing mania for a few hours. i can feel it failing, its potency flip-flopping to become something more pale and deathly; moth-like. i feel the bizarre impotence of an orphan. i feel this mania infecting my body - it's in the nausea, in the numbness, and the rapid-fire movements of each muscle, each nerve-ending shooting off too fast. ah, well. i'll sleep eventually, and all will be plasticked-over.
I am currently Detached
I am listening to click clack; and a far-away movie soundtrack

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hell with it - in the morning
09/21/2003 04:15 p.m.
some say it's better but i say it ain't ... i've had that song stuck in my head all morning; ah, but what a beautiful time it's been. last night, wine and beauty and i felt like never falling never. i wrote here and got a form incomplete and said the hell with it and turned off the computer. so that emotion, that fervor and drive, is gone from my words - all i have left is the recollection to set down. and now that this journal has been obliviated by eyes other than my own, i can only say what that knowledge will allow me to say whereas life was pure language on this page before, perhaps the only place my graphomania was unmanifest. but it's okay, it's good to learn. so i will. wine and jazz, poetry kisses and friends. cous cous and saltines. potatoes and curly hair. everything so sensory and meaningful, a poem i know though i don't, that i would like to read again, the feeling of being in a grey hazy wet sky above clouds; invisible; no one to know that i was warmly waiting there, joyous. and the sadness that comes with happiness was gone; it was love, pure love that i've been feeling for the people around me that was true this time. manifest love, i wanted to embrace them all and i could and did and i still cannot express the depth with which i find myself capable of loving these days. and i want to sit in my room and sit out in the grass and never look back or around or up - only away - and write for days, sans food, sans sound, only clouds moving by in fast-forward; writing, writing. words with more than just the meaning of their design; with the meaning of their shape and sound and color and all the senses and the smell and embrace and violence of the words themselves. i want to never do anything but this.
I am currently Reflective
I am listening to click clack

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benediction(asking)
08/05/2003 04:01 a.m.
goodnight, my friends, my loves, all of you who know my name; goodnight. now, the bloodless tingling longing for soft pillow sleep commences.
I am currently Calm
I am listening to fans

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back and forth and back and forth and back
08/04/2003 05:33 a.m.

i wonder how many people on this website are not white. it seems like it can't possibly be many. just because of the vibe of the site. it's like a group i worked with a few years ago - the people of color tried to tell us how uncomfortable they were in te setting of the group because so much was simply white-oriented by default. i wish i could know how to not do that. maybe living in price this semester will do that for me. i wish i wasn't white; a lot. about the same amount i wish i wasn't american. but both have their ups and downs, and really more ups than downs if you want to get right down to it. i just don't know if that's purely quantitative or not. probably.

i'm wearing my red bat shirt - i love charlie, my darling my friend my brother my comrade charlie. he loves me, too. he takes care of me. everyone knows it, and they respect our relationship. funny charlie; he's the reason i own this bat shirt, indirectly and more directly than that implies.

"everyone knows they're in love by the way they dance" - ryan and i are fantastic dancers, in our heads. and everyone knows not because we're good dancers but because we make them think we're fantastic dancers when they watch.

"don't try to take me down cause, you know, i won't go. i don't give a damn about it anymore. i won't go" i haven't talked to anyone from my old school all summer save my few precious ones, emma alice mary ryan eric kenji. that's all, that's all there will ever be because the rest i have consciously decided to abandon, to jump; a new dimension, my new life; that's what it feels like. i have refused to do that anymore.

"the line moves slowly through the numbered gate, past the mosaic of the head of state" you know, just leave everyone alone. i don't ever want to touch anyone in violence or hatred. just leave saddam hussein alone. let him live his life. because there will always be someone in his spot; it could be someone worse, someone better, but it will always be a place to be filled. the provocation is what matters. leave "him" alone. maybe "he"'ll leave you alone, no?

"sometimes she likes to pretend" yes you know i am quite happy really. i love my friends, my darlingest friends who are incredibly lovely. i will call alice to go breakfast with me, i think. i hope she can, i do hope. because i love her. i love her immeasurably and i want to share this with her. i i imagine beautiful lives for us all later on. or catherine, maybe i will call catherine. it's all one, anyhow. i am in love. everyone, hear that! i am in love! with lover and friend both. i am still lonely at night, but it's a reminder only. i have comfort every day of my life for that moonlight solitude. i want to watch shooting stars with my lover again. that is the only thing that is as true as i believe.

"let it all go and close your eyes, body parts are nice" i miss him, in my bed warm and dear, sleeping. that is contentment, joy, and rest all together, all perfection in the world embodied by a soft body in my sheets. and sometimes he makes me love my hips my waist my legs my back my stomach all parts of me, parts i usually[when i think about it] would rather were quite quite different. it's sort of a magic thing, isn't it?

"with the perfect life, where you never die; you just press rewind" i'm not yet ready for this change i'm about to enter. i'm just not ready. but i don't know if i could say when i will be ready, if ever. i love the life i lead, i do.

"you just press rewind..."
07/31/2003 05:11 a.m.

stole the following from aiko. lovely! hahaha. now, to go find that pokemon names thing that's so hilarious.

more seriously...when someone loves you so selflessly, and you love him equally but selfishly, what is there to do but love them more, and respect and idealize the strength that allows it? and wonder at it, oh...i love him so much more than i dare think, being that i am leaving in a matter of weeks...

flying over
07/22/2003 05:28 a.m.
i had my soul torn away from me last night. i watched "one flew over the cuckoo's nest" fo the first time in about 8 years, and it completely broke me down. i was watching it with my boyfriend and his parents, brother, and aunts. i could barely hold it together after the movie. as soon as ryan(boyfriend) and i walked out the door, i started crying. he took me home, and i cried on his chest for 20 minutes before i could talk. then, a story from my mental illness just poured out of me in stumbling tripping flowing rushing words. just one story, but it calmed me a bit.

the movie...it washed me in my history. in all the sickness in my family, all the hospitals and treatments and pain and death and silence of my past. it was cathartic, in truth. i was truly washed in it...pain, it was, but clean, like burning out the disease in a wound. at least for some time. it made pure and human all the unkindness of all the illness i've seen and known.

all the sickness made clean by the tears...
I am currently Amazed
I am listening to "oh my sweet carolina" - ryan adams

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oatmeal
07/19/2003 05:31 a.m.

eating instant oatmeal. just had this bastard deleted. now i have to do it again. my mood won't be "merry" anymore, i can tell you that. i'm meeting so many new and old people it's almost more than i can stand but i do so love them all. my old friend and i are talking about drinking. like we used to do in the old days, just for the camraderie. maybe we shall tread those unsteady boards together, one last hurrah. warm on my insides, crappy oatmeal.

loveindigo

nighttime now
07/04/2003 03:59 a.m.

a little bit berzerk [i think that's german] i bought new shoes today and the more i think about them the more entrenched in my mind they become. maybe i'm becoming a materialist, me, little free me who wouldn't claim a penny? i'm starting to think i'm all about image when i know this isn't the case. i'm starting to wish to know many people i don't know. randy the singer-songrwriter on whom i waited at work. jason my fellow waiter. a man of many names who disappeared and returned. a boy who names the stars and blows life into the embers of my joy and all-encompassing love. a friend from years ago who hugged me out of happiness one valentine's day at work. i want to know them, to feel their words meaningful and shared, with me; bill, i miss you, i want to touch your skin to see if your kindness is real, if you were a phantom who one night went home with the girl who was my friend and then became the other side and consequently too good for us in the kitchen. and yet she took you bill bill bill of a thousand rhythms and smiles. bill the embodiment of all my yearnings not sexual but human bill i miss you bill are you dreaming? or are you working now, it's not too late, you're probably still scarring your forearms on that hot oven while i miss you from 4 miles as the crow flies bill bill mr bungles was your friend i learned to love silence and sound from bill it seems these days although i know i knew it before bill. veins are standing out in my arms i think i may be squirming on the outside though i think i'm silently sitting in peace here on the inside. i may be seizing now and not ever know. i may be dying floating up over this city and bill would you still know my face? from the one time you smiled at me i'll always remember the lump in my throat when you remembered me. you were my joy because you were joy you were the joybringer please keep it with you don't let them disease you like they are. you are beautiful bill, i'll remember for you when you're here in fifteen years. it's silent out now, and humid. i imagine you walking to your little blue car with a cream soday, being stopped by the cops but Guys it's only pop Okay sir go on. i'm missing you i ' m  s l o w l y  m e l t i n g  a w a y  w i t h  s o l i t u d e  l o n g i n g  f o r  y o u r  s m i l e  b i l l so good night sweet prince and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest if i die i promise to come see you before i go it's my last with you'll be my last goodbye

the words.the game
04/07/2003 07:21 p.m.

i'm touched i'm stunned to see some of my words in the top ten this week. i'm completely outofthinking about this. it's very interesting...never thought i'd see it. thank you, friends.

in the meantime, i've been thinking i've been analyzing my world and i've decided that life is a game and that isn't the way it ought to be because since justice and right are human concepts they are possible and therefore there is no excuse for the state of the world and the system in which we live, under which it is necessary for my friend fernando to word three jobs, and still he cannot support his children. it is not right that my grandfather does nothing but has everything, and he gives nothing not even to his children, because he knows how to play the game whereas fernando does not because he grew up in another game entirely, the game of the streets and that is not the game he wants his children to play. oh but how wrong is it...and will i ever see a revolution? i do know how to play the game and, with any luck, i can play it to its end.

love.indi

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