Untitled
01/24/2004 07:56 p.m.
Barbara's right. Tim is an amazing guy. He's one of those people who genuinely care about other people. I'm going to miss him so much when he leaves. I know he cares about me. I know there's probably even more than that, and it makes me sad a little, because I'm with Jordan, I love Jordan, and not even Tim can make me leave Jordan. And if he really does harbour any interest in me that spans beyond friendship, it's sort of in vain. In another situation, such as one where I wasn't as satisfied with my existing relationship, there'd probably be a chance. I mean, he's smart and he's good looking and sweet... but, I mean, I love Jordan. I love Jordan when he's not any of those things... well, he's always good looking... but there have definately been unsweet times and unsmart times. And I love him anyways. It's just that there's something Jordan has without a doubt that Tim doesn't... me.
I am currently Fine
I am listening to fefedobson

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I Love You More Each Day
01/21/2004 05:23 a.m.
I can't describe this.

but here I go.

It's something in that one special smile. The one that comes right in between kisses, when his arms are tight around me and I'm close enough to smell his skin. That smile with his face close to mine and oceany eyes that crinkle at the corners and are smiling just as wide as his mouth. That look that does nothing except melt me into this soft little puddle, a lump of clay he can do whatever with (it's a good thing his arms are around me at those times). I can do nothing but feel my heart soar, literally. I know why that term in so cliched now. It's true. It's just about the only way to describe it, and screwing with that cliche won't give you anything more potent. It literally feels like my heart is soaring, like the joy is radiating from underneath my skin and turning me pink. All I can do at that smile is beam back at him in hopes that I'm saying everything I hear when he smiles at me like that. I tell him everything with words too, but god, the things he says without words, the things WE say without words, make my knees shake. When it happens, and he's holding me there, and I can practically feel his heart through his chest, it's like his eyes give me tunnel vision. The only thing that's there is him. The world fades off into a bunch of sweet mush, and I can't take my eyes off his except to kiss his lips (one of the things his smile screams is "I have to kiss you again..."). That bond feels so.... unshakable. Infallable. It really makes you believe that all you need is love. I've never loved anyone else like this before. Not a single person has ever made me feel this way. I love him like the concept never really existed before there was him and this. Before was just a watercolour image of a foggy sunrise. This is like dawn exploding in intense shades of orange and rose over a black, rocky silhouette, painting the undersides of the wispy clouds in fire.
I never thought it was possible, both loving so passionately and being loved with the same passion. The same devotion. The same honeydrizzled fire. I want to tell him I love him every day. I want to tell him I love him right now. For no good reason. No purpose for telling him except hearing him hear it, or knowing he'll read it. I love him. I love him like the feeling never was in my body before. And I don't worry about being overly expressive anymore, because as he pointed out to me, why should i be (it was a novel idea...)? I'm so in love... I'm so completely in love...
I am currently Passionate
I am listening to Fefe Dobson (halfie pride)

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I love you. Always.
01/19/2004 06:59 p.m.
I can't believe that is is real. He's not the same guy he was a while back, he's so.... I don't know. I don't know anything else that never fails to make me smile. I've never been in love like this, with anyone, for any period of time. It's like there's no start and no stop and nothing but inbetween where it's everywhere. It's in every silence. Every look. Every silly little thing we do just because the other one's there..... I need to write am poem. It that feeling where you want to scream it to the world. You want to go "I'm IN LOVE!!!" And you want to hear the world yell it back with your voice. I can't not smile. I don't know how to frown when I'm thinking about him, and the way he feels for me. It was never like this before.... To think, if he hadn't have broke it off before the 4th.... we would have probably jumped into something we didn't want to jump into. I'm so happy it ended when it did, because This is so much.... more. That's the only way I can explain it. this is more.
I am currently Amazed
I am listening to soft chatter.

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The world NEEDS bad poetry.
01/15/2004 08:28 p.m.
Poetry doesn't need to be be beautiful. I think that's a really odd presumption we've all grown to have about poetry. I might be just making excuses for some of my less then pretty works, but really, why should we succumb to the notion that all poetry has to be flowy, rhythmic, perfect works of art? why not just art? Art is not always conventionally beautiful. Why should poetry be different. Alot of times poetry falls flat on it's face, or else it trip and stumbles all over itself. Why should it be graceful all the time. I think the world needs bad poetry. Ya, that's right, BAD BAD BAD poetry. Cheesy rhyming couplet poetry and poetry where the lines are jarring and saddening because the rhythym is so pitiful that you want to break your eardrums over the hard and soft sounds. We, as a culture, need bad poetry.

Beautiful poetry reflects what life can be, and the metamorphisis of life situations, like turning the mundane into something shimmering, or the tragic into something gorgeous.

BAD poetry is needed to embody the idea of what life really IS sometimes. The reality. Jarring, stubling, awkward, off pace and even boring.

Yes, the world would be lost without bad poetry to wake us up to the capabilities and the growth of other people around us. Everyone's a work in progress until they die, right?

I am currently Good
I am listening to "what rhymes with warm?" (I think: Storm, dorm...)

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grrr...
01/15/2004 01:17 a.m.
Alright, so Ling stays up until 6 AM being on the phone and whatever. Wakes up an hour later and tells my mom she doesn't want to go to school for the day because she's too tired. Goes to dad and says the same. They let her miss the entire morning so she can sleep in. Then when she goes to school, she comes home bringing a friend. her and her friend just left to meet up with a bunch of other friend to go eat japanese food. Her only curfew instructions are "be home before 9."

MEANWHILE, my parents want me to be in bed by 10. They'd never let me miss school on the count of being up too late. I'm not allowed on the phone past 10 o'clock. I'm not allowed to have people over unless they come before of after supper, or if there's express permmission for them to come through supper. If they come over after supper they should be gone by 8ish. The only person they really let go on that rule is Jordan, which is nice. Oh, and I get home at 5:00 every day, so figure that one out. I'm not allowed to go out on school nights usually, but if on the rare occasion I am they like me back before dinner or before 8. We eat at about 6-7, conveniently. My parents like to bitch about picking me up when it's "too late" but they happily drive and pick up for her. It just seems a little skewed really. They don't like wasting the gas driving 2 or 3 of my friends home, but they'll waste it on her behalf. Like the gas is cheaper for her. Arg, I just feel frustrated at the situation because sometimes I feel trapped. Like when my dad will start screaming at me for being on the phone 'too late.' And I mean shouting and getting red in the face. ARG I say! ARG!
I am currently Frustrated
I am listening to nada.

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wow.
01/14/2004 05:53 p.m.
Ling got to stay home today. She didn't fall asleep until 6:00 am yesterday and so she gets to stay home all of today. It only bothers me a little.I'm like, hey, if I stay up real real late one night can I miss the next day? grrr...
oh oh oh!! Ok, I don't know whether I mentioned it before or not, so I'll mention it now. My school is doing a musical revue called "Leader of the Pack." I auditioned and got Annie, which was huge. Four solo songs, I was so terrified. even more terrifying though, is that Jen, who got the part of Darlene, told Der (my music teacher) that she can't do the show. So Der had to re cast. He told me this morning that he wanted to listen to me sing. He already said that he had listened to her and it was between us. so I sang three songs whcih were at the top of my vocal range. And he sat there for like 3 minute, and stood there and silence, and he goes, "ok, you're darlene." Apparently it's because I have more musical knowhow than Julie, because he said it's cuz I know where the melody goes, even when I don't know the song. I was like uh.... wow... So I'm Darlene. I went from singing 3 songs to singing 6. Solo. SO LO. Oh, and Barbara or whoever might read this before the end of school that's in musical theatre, don't say anything, cuz i'm not supposed to tell anyone. but wow.... I'll probably write another one of these at lunch, I've got more to blab about.
I am currently Awestruck
I am listening to "Why do Lovers Break Eachothers Hearts"

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Cry
01/12/2004 07:22 p.m.
I'm sorry. I need a hug. Today and yesterday so many things flooded me with emotions I couldn't control. God I'm so grateful he loves me. Or at least that he'll mean it when he says it. I'm so happy to know that I can hug him and know he'll hug back. Baby, when you see me next, please hug me. Like I hugged you yesterday. I need it. From you.
I am currently Insecure
I am listening to kids. people. I hate setting my mood to insecure.

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Simplicity.
01/08/2004 07:49 a.m.
A huge vocabulary is NOT the heart and soul of every writer's work.

I wrote a poem. That makes me so happy. I wrote a poem that I love for the first time in a while. And it's all thanks to barbara and an old text book. I dug up an old textbook of poetry that I absolutely love, and I read it. I remembered something I had forgotten by being on this (wonderful) site. YOU DO NOT NEED A HUGE VOCABULARY TO WRITE POETRY. Poetry is so simple. It's beautiful because anyone can be a a poet if they only try. This textbook was filled with pieces that did not baffle me with words from every nook, cranny and far stretching corner of the english language. But even in the absence of super-sophiticated language, these pieces were gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.

And it made me think. It's easy to write a poem with huge words. On here it can even be more satisfying to do so, because we seem to get our fill of comments if we do. But to write beautiful poetry, poetry that is stunning whether you say the word "big" or "humungus", I think that's what takes work. I can't do it yet, but one day I'll be able to. I think doing that takes a long, long time. And a little luck.

As for Barbara, she's dropped my jaw with poems that convey so much emotion without the confuzzling language. She's never really used anything more than common place vocab, and I think she'll become a better writer than most of us because she's learning how to write good stuff NOW, and not relying on huge words to save her. I look like a hypocrit for writing this entry, so I'll say this: Big words in poetry aren't bad, they can even be fantastic (c'mon, just LOOK at Aiko's stuff, it's gorgeous), but it shouldn't be the scale we measure all our stuff on.

lol, THAT scale is "comment count."





Just kidding, guys.
I am currently Good
I am listening to tv in the living room

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Me
01/06/2004 06:16 a.m.
I wonder about love and where it goes and how it comes back. Fear and insecurities can shift into the minds of anyone. Everyone. And I'm not perfect, or at least not perfect enough sometimes. (Could I really tell him anything? Would he still be there no matter what like he says he'll be? Is THAT what he's in for? He wrote that nothing was going to scare him away, that he loves me no matter what. Even as a 15 year old girl who can't drive and can't see him everyday? Can't dance or sing or thrive as well as...) There are moments when the depressions I used to swim in come back and haunt me. I think right this instant, I'm there again, and more than anything I want a hand to pull me out. Or even just arms around me to let me know I'll be out of it in a minute if I just have patience. (Patience, patience... can you forgive me for being afraid for a moment? I know I try to be so strong every other time. I try to hide when I can't be a pillar, but I'm tired of hiding whenever a silly, random, girlish mood like this one sweeps by. I don't want to hide anything from you anymore.) But I'm being moody. Irrational even... but god damn, that's the way human beings are sometimes right? I don't know what's gotten into me today.
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In other news, I'm shocked to find out that I got a super part for Leader of The Pack, a musical review my school will be doing. I play Annie Goldwin, and I sing about 3 songs totally solo apperently. I'm scared. Really scared, actually. But really excited. I've never been very confident at singing but I'm willing to do this, to GET confident. I'm going to audition for bard to broadway too. I've never done a monologue. I've never done a real, out-of-school audition. This year is going to be full of new things i'm not secure about, I realize. But why should that ever stop me from doing them?

Haha, now That first part of my entry seems rather silly, just like I thought it would. I almost don't want to post it anymore, but it's a facet of me and why not be brutally honest right? Might as well see everyside. you know what I think is neat? That saying about how when you hate something in someone or dislike something in someone, it's a trait of yours that you don't like when it surfaces. I think that's good. It reminds us all that we're people.
I am currently O.K.
I am listening to the incandescent light above me buzzing annoyingly.

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More on Nothing.
01/05/2004 06:48 p.m.
I can't write poetry!!! I've written about five complete and edited poems, and erased them completely. Gone. I do them, look at them, and they aren't good enough, so I erase every word until the page is just blank. I stare at white for a moment, unsure of why I did it. Then a feeling like rage and despair boil up, simmer, and sink down again. The poem I wrote for the teen patron contest almost got chopped too, but I stopped myself and said hey, what the hell, let's give it a go. I can't write anything but journal entries. OH, I remember now, there were one or two poems I wrote that could have been good, but they had content I didn't like to see from myself. They were from a while back, and they were rather jealous poems, and I decided I didn't want to look at those pieces in my library everyday. I'm not a big fan of jealousy. I know it happens, but even when it's with good reason, I don't like it. Even when it makes great poetry, I don't like it. I'll sacrifice a few comments for my own well-being. I wrote it out, and that was enough (too much even).

I made myself a journal the other day. I went to chapters and of all places, they didn't have a good journal. I wanted one with alot of pages, no lines, and an alright looking cover. Finally, I just decided I'd make one myself. I bought red satin ribbon for 7$ and used it to bind 2 pieces of cardboard to a chunk of white paper. I had to hole punch the whole thing about 4 times. Twice to put 6 holes in the paper, and twice again to make them bigger. I covered the front of the cardboard in old newspaper articles (good inspiration for writers block) and then made a mosaic eye and put 'journal' on the front. I like it. I wrote about 2 pages solid in it last night and the other day I recounted the ups and downs of my love life in 2003. There were alot. that filled up about 2 and a half pages. This year I don't really have a new years resolution, except to just see what I have infront of me. Heh, it's sad, I can feel the stress already. Exams are coming up. I need A's. High A's. My parents bounce from being afriad that I'm going to overwork myself to being afraid I'll drop everything.

Oh, on an amusing note, I saw Jordans Dad here in the counselling centre today and he goes "Oh, I recognize that sweater." Needless to say (I'll say it though) I'm in Jordans hoody. It's quite comfy. A friend of mine came up to me and asked "So what happened with you and Jordan?!" All eager like there's a wager on it or something. Prolly is for all I know, lol.
I am currently Bleh
I am listening to babylon Feeling

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