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4,062,379 | female | 27 | Government | Aquarius | 29,July,2004 | I was recently weighed by the Occupational Health Nurse at work. I was told that I am bordering ideal weight range according to my BMI (Body Mass Index) . Being 10stone 7lbs and only 5'3' I guess this is not good. I have come to the conclusion that I have become what I have always dreaded...I am plump. Just for good measure, mainly due to my love of food in general, especially Chinese, I have put on a few extra pounds, so I am probably now into the red zone of the chart. I blame my plumpness on yo-yo dieting. Each time I diet (the last one I did was apparently not a diet, more of a healthy eating plan) I end up not at what I like to call the 'Sod It' stage after a few months. After this things are down hill, and a bit, and yes, I end up weighing more than I did before I started. I got a new job 7 months ago, which involves me sitting on my arse in front of a computer for almost 7 hours each day, apart from the odd meeting, where I will walk from one end of the building to the other, then sit on my arse again. Is it possible to get deep vein thrombosis from working in this way. I hope not, but I know that it is adamn good way of putting on a dress size. I am now a good size 14. This doesn't help my cause. Reality hit a few days ago, when I realized that my beloved halter neck tops were beginning to look a little naff due to this extra weight I am harboring. Having just watched You Are What You Eat on TV, and seeing a bloke with a really swollen and bruised stomach, I decided to stop holding my stomach in and take a good look in the mirror. Well. That wasn't a good idea. What I saw staring back was man from the TV program's belly, someone had done a transplant over night and I hadn't even noticed...arrrrrggghhh. Are women really supposed to have beer bellies hanging over there trousers? That was the point. Immediately I donned the old sweat pants and went for a run. After getting a few yards down the road I was well and truly panting, but determined to at least get around the block I walked for a while, then jogged back (which is down hill luckily). Feeling please with myself when I eventually got home, sweating and with a face red as a baboons back end, I decided that I deserved a treat and ordered a Chinese. Some habits just die hard. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 29,July,2004 | I'm feeling not so paranoid today! That wasn't the case earlier, but as the night wears on, I've been feeling better and more relaxed. Perhaps it's the realization that I leave tomorrow for a mini vacation at a cabin up north. My mind works in weird yet wonderous ways... I got to thinking and I got to thinking after typing that last sentence, what is 'up north'? For someone in Florida heading up north for a vacation that could be just about anywhere. What about someone in Canada? How far up north could you go? To me, up north is almost akin to a utopia - a place where everyone exisit in peace in seemingly perfect conditions. It's the ideal vacation spot where you will find relaxation and contentment. When things are troubling you, head 'up north'. Though so perfect in all it's makeup, up north also seems almost unreachable and unattainable as well - like a carrot dangled before your eyes. Up north is El Dorado - it's the Fountain of Youth. Well, regardless of what it is, my daughter and I are heading there this weekend - at least we are going to attempt to find it! Sitting at our campfire with a trillion stars glistening overhead, no phones or computers in sight, I think we'll come darn close. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 28,July,2004 | I'm paranoid. I was thinking about this today at work when I sat at my desk wondering if everyone was talking about me; then wondering why I cared if they did or not?! It all started on Monday when a good friend and co-worker announced that she'd quit. She had been off work on medical leave for quite some time, and when she came back, there were a few people out to get her (they really were - she wasn't being paranoid!). Well, she comes from an extremely wealthy family, so instead of fighting, just quit (she's been there for over 10 years). I'm happy for her really - she can spend time with her family and doesn't have to worry about the cattiness at the library. What threw me for a loop though was all the talk that was going on behind her back. The people cheering that she was going to leave. The other co-workers rushing to get their resumes together so they could apply for her job. People do talk about other people… people do gossip, I know that. It goes on all the time in our staff lounge or in the elevator or by the loading dock… But I never really thought about people talking about me until I saw this explosion of 'hey, did you hear…' going on this week. It made me really start to wonder. So as I sat at my desk this afternoon after a meeting, that didn't go so well - I started to speculate what others could be saying about me behind my back. As I was stewing, I decided to hop on the net and look up paranoia (At times I sure damn the people who put the internet together!). I found this article on the internet which said: 'Almost everyone experiences feelings of paranoia at some time in their lives. Paranoia is a perception that people are talking about you and spying on you, that they can't be trusted and do not have your best interest at heart. Paranoid people feel helpless and fear entrapment. They tend to be touchy, slow to forgive and quick to take offence. They feel victimized by what they perceive to be the overly critical attitudes and unjust anger of others. At the same time they are very self-conscious and critical of themselves. In an effort to defend against their own fears, they project a great deal of hostility and sarcasm toward significant others. ' Oh my God, that's ME! I announced this revelation to my husband…his reply? 'Yeah, I know. But you're functional.' Ok, is this a real helpful response?! It gave me the ache-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach sort of feeling… He went on to clarify 'But honey, you're getting better.' All I want to do is find some hole to crawl into. If he knew, is this something that everyone knows? Can they tell I don't have it all held together? Why the hell am I worrying?!?! God, I am paranoid! I suppose revelation is a step towards cure , if cure is the right term. Maybe understanding would be better. Perhaps I don't really need to be fixed or cured at all :) Just realizing what I do, and why I'm doing it, will help me to be more aware of my actions. Growth - it's something that never stops, eh? But I can do that in the moring... right now I'm going to go find that hole... |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 27,July,2004 | I'm a librarian, as you've probably guessed by my username. We are in the throws of the Summer Reading Program during which each week various performers visit the library. Some put on puppet shows, others do storytelling, and then there are the magicians. Magicians are by far draw the biggest crowds. Everyone is mesmerized by them - who isn't fascinated with magicians?! Well, my husband has today off so decided to spend the day with our daughter and take her to the magic show later this afternoon (instead of having her go to the summer program preschool, like normal). Last night he asked her if she wanted a daddy day... 'No!' she said, 'I want to go to school'. I was thinking to myself 'cool, she finally likes going to school'... that isn't what my husband thought! He knew it was silly, but he was hurt she'd rather go to school than spend the day with him.... she's almost 5, starting to grow up and show her independence - are we ready?! This morning my husband thought he'd try one more time. He asked her yet again if she'd like to have a daddy day and go see the magician later on. She looks up at him and says 'No I wanna go to school. Hey! I've got an idea! You go and tape the show. I'll watch the video tonight.' I had to chuckle... it is good though, I think. She actually WANTS to go to school - I like that. Knowing she can catch the show later on video is a bit disturbing, but part of the culture I suppose. My husband at least sees the irony - he's trying to get her to not go to school for a day and she's saying no, that's where she wants to be. If this is the least of our problems, we'll be lucky. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 26,July,2004 | Well, I just bought $150 worth of beef. What in the heck was I thinking?! This guy knocks on my door at 7pm - my daughter and I had just gotten home from work/pre-school - he has a case of meat he needs to get rid of. It was such an odd story, I had to believe it.... he'd been delivering in the neighborhood and had an extra case. Instead of losing it, he'd try to get rid of it to someone else. I guess I was the only one who answered the door! The guy was from urlLink Mega Foods . I hadn't heard of them before, but what the heck - he opened the whole box, got out all the different meats - they were all vaccuumed sealed..... And I was hungry (never shop when you're hungry). Well, I bought the box for 1/2 off the regular price. Am I nuts, or what?!? The thing is, I can't even cook steak! At least not to my husband's liking... he likes the cow to still moo, where I'd rather know everything is completely killed. So, according to him, I can't cook 'em... they're too well done or too tough or whatever. Oh my gosh, that reminds me of my chicken!!! He doesn't like my chicken either... in fact, we had been married about a year - his sister was coming over for dinner. I made a wonderful chicken dish that was one of my husband's favorites, but instead of using thigh meat like normal, I used chicken breast (considering his reaction to the change, I'm sure there's a joke there somewhere). He took a bite, drank some water, and said 'This is awful . I can't even gag it down'. Guys and gals, one thing you do NOT say to your significant other when they've worked hard to make you a nice meal, especially when you have company, is 'I can't even gag it down'. Trust me, just about anything would be better. We didn't have that dish for another 2 years and you better believe he gagged it down. So, considering my luck with chicken, am I game to try cooking up beef for the next year?! Fillet mignon?! NY Strip?!? Sirloin?!? *sigh* I guess I'll get a lot of practice... and practice makes perfect, right? (why did I just flash to the Stepford Wives???). If my husband doesn't like it, well, I suppose I could always just try the Atkins diet. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 25,July,2004 | I never believed in Cupid. After a few relationships over the years, I really thought that if there really was a cupid and he was trying to hit me with is arrow, he was a dang poor marksman. Perhaps he needs glasses? His bow restrung? New arrows? I didn't know what the problem was, but I decided to put love on the backburner of my stove-of-life and start focusing on getting out into the open air and broadening my horizons; an idea which had been on simmer way too long. Fortunately for me, I was living in rural Oklahoma at the time; a very nice country town which definitely provided a vast array of experiences to explore: rodeos, water falls, hiking paths, open roads, cowboys. Unfortunately for my outdoor adventures, the Internet soon made it to small town America. I'm not one to make friends quickly or easily. I much prefer to nurture a few good friendships overtime and grow with the relationship. Basically, I'm shy, yet picky. For these very reasons, even after living in Oklahoma for almost a year, I had made no friends to speak of. Not even those which I could meet for a drink after work, or go shopping with. And to be quite honest, I was lonely for companionship. Someone to do things with and share experiences with. Because of this, I bought myself a computer and hopped right onto the information super highway. Meeting my future husband did not top my list of things I wanted to achieve on the net. I really had no expectations at all. I simply wanted to get on line and explore (good-bye fresh air!). Soon, I was emailing, surfing, and chatting with the best of them. And quite to my surprise, a friend who I had met online (let's call him cupid), introduced me to the man who would soon virtually sweep my feet right out from under me and totally turn my world upside down (people do refer to Australia as 'downunder' you know). My cyber cupid's aim was straight and true. Thankfully in the world of cyberspace, a bow never needs to be restrung, arrows can appear in a flash, and your vision is as clear as you've configured your monitor. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 24,July,2004 | I can't write tonight... have a song going through my head and it's the only thing I can think about. Wishing my man would get off his computer:.. Throw your arms around me by Hunters and Collectors (though I like Paul McDermott's and Eddie Vedder's versions) I will come for you at night time And I will raise you from your sleep I will kiss you in four places As I go running up your street And I will squeeze the life out of you And you will make me laugh and make me cry And we may never forget it You will make me call your name And I'll shout it to the blue summer sky And we may never meet again So shed your skin and lets get started And you may throw your arms around me Yeah you may throw your around me Well I came for you at night time And I watched you in your sleep Lord I met you in high places I kissed your head and kissed your feet Now if you disappear out of view You know that I will never say goodbye And though I try and forget it You will make me call your name And I'll shout it to the blue summer sky And we may never meet again So shed your skin and lets get started And you may throw your arms around me Well I came for you at night time And I watched you in your sleep Lord I kissed you in four places I kissed your head and kissed your feet Throw your arms around me Yeah you may throw your arms around me |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 23,July,2004 | Garth Brooks once sang 'sometimes I thank God, for unanswered prayers'… at times I wonder why anyone would think that way. There have been instances when I believed this fully. Sometimes it is best to not get what we pray for. Everything happens for a reason. We don't know the master plan . And then there are times when I feel like screaming 'I don't give a d*mn about the reason! Make it work out NOW!' I've definitely had a lot of those times in my life... What I've discovered is that no matter how much I want something to work out, if it is not meant to be, it just plain won't happen. Is that a good thing? I honestly don't know any more. It may be part of a master plan, but it certainly isn't always fair. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 22,July,2004 | Bless Jay Leno's pea-picking heart... the man has taste! July 28th, 2004 Robbie Williams is slated to appear on his show! http://www.nbc.com/nbc/The_Tonight_Show_with_Jay_Leno/guests/ Stay up late folks - it will be worth it!!! (I'll be back to my regular ramblings tomorrow!) |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 21,July,2004 | Not long after I moved to Australia, a local news program featured a segment concerning a woman in a small town who was forced by the city to erect a fence around her property. Neighbors had complained about the unsightly condition of her yard. Negative words were tossed back and forth. Feelings were hurt. To add insult to injury, this woman not only had no choice as to the fence's appearance, but also had to pay for it! Ok, perhaps some yards could really do with a fence to hide the stockpile of garbage collected over the years, but truly, I've never seen more fences surrounding houses for seemingly no apparent reason, than what line the streets of suburban Brisbane. Some enclosures are quite remarkable as to their ornamentation, and others, not much more than the white washed picket fences of days gone by. Regardless of their appearance, why on earth do so many Brisbanites choose to hide behind these barriers anyway? Are the owners embarrassed to show the world their undie and bra laden Hill's Hoists or Uncle John's rusted out ute? Or is there another darker reason? One that has passed beyond the realm of premeditated acts and lapsed into the subconscious? Are Brisbanites afraid of their neighbors? Let's face it, this country was after all founded by a rather huge lot of casted out convicts. And though ancestors of the original settlers would like you to think otherwise, not all prisoners exiled to this region were so because they simply stole a loaf of bread to feed their family (just ask my husband - that's what he thinks!)! I would hazard a guess that most original settlers, convicts, military, and civilians alike, were somewhat afraid. Here they were in the middle of no where, thousands of miles from family and friends, finding themselves neighbors with thugs, burglars, murderers and thieves. Is it really so hard to believe that possibly this fear and isolation has over time become so ingrained into the subconscious of Australians as to actually effect their lifestyle ? Could the rows and rows of fences simply be a silent scream to all who will take noticed - 'We need to feel safe and protected!' Perhaps not. It is just as likely that the owners only wish to display their wealth and afford their family and land with some protection from the elements, as well as the occasional hooligan. I would like them to take note though - a 6 foot high, solid cement fence does not instill in others a warm and fuzzy feeling, no matter how beautiful. My recommendation? (For what it's worth) tear down the fences, say G'day to passerby's, and head down to the local bakery, buy a loaf of bread and share it with your neighbor. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 20,July,2004 | If you are an American visiting Australia, you will undoubtedly be asked one somewhat simple question: 'Are you from Canada?' The first few times this happens, you smile politely and say 'No sorry, I'm from Ohio', or whatever the case may be. This part of the verbal exchange is fine, really. It is what comes next that now (after 5 years in the country!) starts my blood boiling. The kind hearted Australian who inquired as to your nationality will then qualify their question with a statement such as 'Oh, I thought perhaps you were American, but I just can't take a chance. If you ask a Canadian if they are American, boy do they get mad!'. Ok, the first few times I heard this explanation I smiled, laughed, and in general brushed it off. It was only after hearing it ALL the time, from various sorts of people, that it really began to grate on me. I mean really, do you think Americans love to hear how Canadians can't stand to be associated with us? Do you truly believe we need to know how insulted people from our neighboring country would be to be mistaken for 'a Yank'? Honestly, I love Canada. Having lived the majority of my life near the Canadian border, I visited the country often and have several dear friends there. I have asked those friends just what they thought of the whole predicament, and yes indeed, they really would be insulted if someone incorrectly thought they were from the US. Alright, I can accept that - country pride, and all. But can't anyone in this vast world of ours see how it could be somewhat insulting to be told over and over again that a fellow human being would be utterly offended if they were mistaken as a person from your country?!?! I just can't wait to ask the next Australian I meet if they are from New Zealand. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 19,July,2004 | For five years I lived in Brisbane, Australia. It was quite an experience. First off, I'd recommend a visit to the land down under to anyone who can handle flying for hours on end and who has a few thousand dollars to spend. The people are fantastic, the land is breathtaking, they don't care if you don't speak 'English', and though I was unable to taste any culinary masterpieces, the food was at least identifiable and quite tasty. One thing that I really appreciated was that I was actually exposed to different music, books, and ideas. I'm sure I'll get into all of those areas on here sooner or later, but the one I want to focus on now is music . Sure, we have music in America - all kinds - but have you ever noticed how the singers and bands start to all look and sound the same after a while? It's rare to find something unique and yet still pleasant to the ears (feel free to make suggestions!). While in Australia I was exposed to a lot of muscians from the UK, Europe, as well as from Oz. One particular artist really caught my eye - and my ears as well. That was urlLink Robbie Williams . Robbie was in the UK boy band Take That, but has made a name for himself as a solo artist selling out concerts around the globe... except in the United States. The first CD I bought in Australia was Sing when you're winning . What captured me was that here was this rather cute (in a roguish sort of way) talented singer who could actually poke fun at himself as well as his icon status. If you haven't a clue what I'm saying, really take a look at the Rock DJ video sometime - he's got it available on his site. I can't comprehend why he hasn't made a name for himself in the US, unless he simply doesn't want to. He probably enjoys his anonymity here - can't blame him for that. But I do believe Americans are somewhat deprived not hearing his incredibly strong, soulful, versitile voice except on soundtrack records :) Give him a listen - you might be surprised and actually become a fan too. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 19,July,2004 | Oh my goodness, this is my first blog post.... now I'll have to think of something to say :) |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 16,August,2004 | My co-workers and I were talking today about what games we used to play when we were younger (talking about the 70’s here). One thing that we all had in common is that we had apple fights. Fall would be approaching – the apples getting ripe. You’d start early to gather apples for your stash. That was part of the fun – finding a place to hide your apples! It had to be a good hiding spot where no one else could find them, but you also had to be able to remember yourself where they were AND get to them easily as soon as a fight broke out! At first we’d just throw the apples at each other – the more rotten they were, the better splat could be achieved. But then someone got the braining idea to stab the apple onto the end of a stick and fling it at your enemy. This worked great… but we got even more inventive! Remember those long, orange, safety flags for bikes? The poles were made out of a fiberglass sort of material. If you rubbed the end just right on the sidewalk, you could make quite the spear. And being fiberglass, they were more flexible than a stick, and boy could you get some fling action going! I miss the days of the apple fights… sure there were tears, and yelling, and the occasional “I’m telling mom”, but by evening we usually all made up and were out with our flashlights for a rousing game of Flashlight Tag. My daughter doesn’t play outside as much as I did when I was a kid… of course, things don’t seem as safe now as they did back then. We ran freely around the neighborhood, playing in the creek, sledding down the hills, jumping rope in the park, biking around the town… Wish somehow we could find that sort of freedom again. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 06,August,2004 | When I was young I worked at our small town library. Not much exciting happened there, but we did have this one patron who would sign his name and in one fluid motion draw a little hand holding a pencil at the very end of his signature. All of us girly pages would squeal with delight when he entered the building and we’d all vie for the chance to check him out (his books!!) because then we could be close at hand when he wrote his famous (to us) signature. It didn’t hurt that the man was good looking, but we really were interested in his signature too. People don’t much care about their signature now a day. You don’t have to sign for you books at check out – it’s all computerized. I suppose celebrities practice their signatures, but that would be about it. We’re in the computer age and your signature is a cute ditty at the end of your email. |
3,970,640 | female | 39 | Education | Taurus | 02,August,2004 | Had a fantastic time away 'up north'. Didn't want to return, but alas I did have to go into work if I'm going to be able to afford more trips away in the future. After all this relaxation, it was a real shocker to come home to a computer infected with Spyware. Tell me, who in the heck thinks up this crap?!?! There is one program on my computer that I did find a removal program for, however you actually have to buy it! I bet the same person/company made up the evil spyware and the fix. *sigh* I have tried urlLink Spybot S&D and urlLink WebSweeper with no luck. In my search for a 'cure' however I have discovered quite a number of people in the same boat... I don't feel so alone :) Heck, check out urlLink Keith Deven's weblog! He's got a whole section devoted to spyware! |
4,245,017 | female | 33 | indUnk | Cancer | 16,August,2004 | Oprah Winfrey recently had a woman on her show who had a successful career as a school counselor, but as she approached menopause she began to feel a lot less of a woman. In an attempt to recapture the essence of her youth, she posed for some very extreme nude photos. She had not thought about how this would effect the community she lives in or the children whose lives she was in a position to alter for the good. The town was completely up in arms over the pictures when they got out. She had to resign from her job. I watched 'Oprah, After the Show' the other day. The woman seemed so devastated. She was trying, through a storm of tears, to explain how it all made her feel. I felt for her because I knew that the real heartache was that at one time she had the ability to do something good and apparently she had strongly influenced a lot of students in a very positive way in the past. Her actions had robbed future children of being able to benefit from her strengths as a counselor. And lets not forget the cruelty that she is now subject to at the hands of an unforgiving community that is always waiting for a sacrificial lamb to unleash their judgments upon. It is always nice when someone puts their self out there for you to talk about so you can take the focus off of yourself for a while. Ah, the gossipy hearts are always ripe to jump into action. This woman appeared to be having a bit of a nervous breakdown on national television (nervous breakdowns which I strongly recommend - go ahead and cry honey). Oprah did not pander to the woman but what she said was real and it was the truth and it rang so profoundly in my heart. She said something to the affect that God had given her the power to affect people's lives but that she apparently did not at one time recognize how awesome that was. Essentially, she did not see herself. The Lord saw this and delivered her through a situation that was entirely the result of her not recognizing her own power. Now that it is all said and done, she realizes what she had and she now sees who she is is a very significant instrument of God. Oprah added that once you see the lesson that you were suppose to learn, it is over and that is what 'grace' is. Wow! What a woman. I look back at decisions I have made since 2002 and I struggle to try to realize why I made some of the decisions I made. What was I thinking? Well I know what I was not thinking: I was not thinking about my own ability to affect others lives. The Lord saw this and He accompanied me through my mistakes and brought me through it to the other side. If I only learned this one thing from it all, I have perhaps learned the most valuable lesson of my life. |
4,245,017 | female | 33 | indUnk | Cancer | 16,August,2004 | I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. I am a home health aide (I really am) and I was in a classroom with a room full of people and my client was sitting way over on the other side. He fell on the floor and was lying there on his back. I leaped to go lift him off the floor and I did not realize until I had him back in his chair that I was completely naked. Everyone was very grossed out. They told me so. Then I woke up and I am now thinking about a number of things. The first thing that occurs to me is. 'THANK GOD IT WAS ONLY A DREAM!' |
4,245,017 | female | 33 | indUnk | Cancer | 16,August,2004 | Starting my blog is not the easiest thing. There are different kinds of blogs you could have and you can have several at the same time or you could just have one. Everyone has things about themselves that they do not want everyone to know -- maybe something that happened in the past. For instance (and this is perhaps an extreme example), lets just say that at one time in your life you had a stuffed animal fetish. You loved to roll around in a pile of stuffed animals when no one else was around. Obviously, you weren't sharing this with too many people at the time. However, as you grew in your wisdom and faith in God, you came to realize that your teddy bear fetish was really only a symptom of a much deeper problem. Along the way, as your obsession increased in its intensity, you perhaps committed some truly ungodly acts with pooh bear (boy this really is an extreme example). However, The Lord dealt with you and delivered you out of your sinful psuedo-beastialistic ways. Now, you are free of the affliction of pseudo-beastialism. However, something pulls at you to want to share your experience with others because you feel that if only you could convey the experience with untainted honesty, you could some how use it to glorify God. I think I have been awake far too long. So what should you do? Should you go forth and begin proclaiming yourself saved by God and begin detailing the realities of your nightmarish obsession with pooh-pooh? Or should you deny it to the end and go forth to walk in a newness of life, reaping the benefits of your newly found, God given wisdom? Or even worse, what if somebody somehow found out about your Poohilism before you were delivered from it? How will you ever be able to face the world? What if someone has pictures? My point is this. How much of your self must you reveal in a blog in order to maintain its integrity as a genuine and complete representation of who you are? Are there not instances in which it is not what you do say but what you don't say that is faulty? |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 20,July,2004 | I was asked by a few people to write a poem. So here goes, and I have to admit. I am not a poet in anyway shape or form. So please read lightly: I can taste the salt, from the last tear I shed for you. |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 16,July,2004 | Admiration. What a beautiful and calm word. I know that everyone either secretly or openly admires someone in their life. To me it's the unsung hero. The people that make sacrifices each and everyday for someone they love. The people that do not look for any kind of monetary payment. They do it all for a smile at the end of the day. These people put their hearts on their sleeves. These people come in all different sizes, colour, and ethnic backgrounds. There is no set rules or regulations on how they became one of these special heroes. They are so easily over looked like the ever calming songs of the birds in the morning. The wonderful smell after a spring rain fall. They may not be ambulance EMTs, nor Life guards. They may not wear special uniforms, or badges. They are in everyone's lives, maybe you work with one? They might be a brother, a sister, a mother, father, aunt or uncle. They could be a friend, or a relative. These people don't stand-out in a crowd. They are your single parents! These great people deserve the title of hero! I should know. I know a lot of them. My sister for one is a single mother of what I like to call my shining light. My nephew Nicholas was born in 1993. The number I wear on my jersey. He has been there for me. On many occasions that he never ever knew. Days where I felt my world was crashing down, he would just look at me and smile. I want to ask him one day how he does that. That little thing he does when he smiles. They way it lights up the world. He is my little buddy. The way he looks up to me. He has called me his hero. He even did a school project on me! I am always overjoyed when he comes to visit. He is my world and the most happiest moments with him are when he is happy. His father wasn't around much when he ws growing. For reasons I am not 100% sure about. But he has had other male figures in and out of his life. The reasons they did not stay? I don't think any of them deserve to be with either my nephew or my sister. Not speculating that any of them would have been a great father, but something obviously didn't click. Of course, there are different reason on why some people are single parents. Some like my sister have yet to find the right one, others may have different circumstances revolving around the situation. Some have pushed their partners away, others the partners have left. Unfortunately, some partners are lost forever. Due to life ending occurrences. None the less. heroes they shall all be in my heart! |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 15,July,2004 | As the old saying goes, 'Your life is supposed to flash before your eyes. Right before you die.' If you where to die today, how long will the flash back take? A second...a minute. Will you be happy after seeing all your hopes and dreams flash before your eyes at an excelerate speed? Of course you probably will not be happy after the brief and quick viewing of your entire life, as it's about to end. Regardless, I wish we could look at the past quickly with out the death experience. This way we can all re-evalutate our lives. Our past experiences, loves, hopes, dreams, and mistakes that have made us who we are today. Look back and remember all the odd turns in life that we took. Get a better understanding of ones self and the sacrifices that have taken us so far in life. Maybe just to even see someone make a great sacrifice for us, which at the time we neither knew it nor appreciated it. We need to hang on to these hopes and dreams. The road of life is paved by good intentions. Our hopes lead us to a greater future. Our dreams fuel our desire to make it in the world. I highly doubt anyone dreams about working an McDonalds. Not that it's a bad job, but more a stepping stone on the way to bigger and brighter conquests! I just hope that I never loss sight of myself like I was have. Not again! I don't regret it, but I also have learnt that you cannot please someone else if you are not truely happy. Act on instinct, no regrets, only honour! |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 12,July,2004 | I stand here looking out the my front window. Having a cigarette and cofee. Watching the rain gently fall to the ground. Having intense feelings of being utterly lost in time. The cigarette burns slowly and the coffee appears to be internally thermal. Almost pasued. Time seems to be frozen, gets me think about life. Frozen between the past and future. How do you move ahead, when your heart and mind are stuck between two places. I can't seem to move ahead and I don't want to go back. Could it be a mental block? The reality of losing someone that meant a lot to me so quickly and for absolutely no logical reasoning. My brain is not wired to handle this. Of ocurse I haev forgiven all past disrections. How can I be worth anything to anyone if I witheld these emotions. So I write this in the hopes that it is theraputic. Plus, to present to myself that I am not a coward. I will not hide behing the hurt. I am attempting to move forward. To unfreeze time. I'm splashing my feelings adn thoughts on the web. Standing here stupified and in utter augh of my own thoughts. A year ago I was to scared to reveal my emotions and thoughts. Even to myself, nevermind at easy access to anyone with a mouse and the patience to read the ramblings of a person they hardly or don't even know. I know I am not perfect. But, anyone that reads my postings are allowed to see me at my worst. So now my life starts a new. Numerous choices and options at my finger tips. Now all I need to do is find the courage to face this new world. Smile and whistle a tune as I walk through the darkness, looking for my light. |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 09,July,2004 | A question we all have asked ourselves after the break up. Why did we give it our all? Why didn't we see this coming? Why didn't I try harder? Love harder? Or just do more for her? Well I have a question right back to all of us. Why the hell do we care. After giving so much, monetary and emotionally. We where taken for granted. Used and tossed away. Like yesterdays news. They have the clean break while we are left holding our poor jaded hearts in our hands. Sulking like little babies and feeling like eternal darkness has clouded our eyes. It's all the fear of the unknown. Ultimately, I feel it's the fear of never meeting that special someone. The one that gives you those butterflys in the pit of your stomach when ever you think of her. The uncontrollable smile when you think of them. They way you plan a vacation just to make them happy, take them anywhere just too see them smile! You know that contagiuos, light the whole world, make your heart skip a beat smile. Attraction like that is far and few between. Main people take it for granted. But, butterfly don't last forever and seem to die as we get older. We need to charish these times and try to make the relationships work. I have learnt this the hard way. Even trying to save a drowning relationship. Putting myself into debt to buy clothes, hair cuts, trips, etc. Making the burn of the break-up scar me eternally and emotionally. Developing a intense trust issue. This maybe be more my fault...or not. I'm gonna be the bigger human and say it was me. We all have our faults. But, the naive, look to the sky and believe in fate ideology tells us all that there is that specail someone out there for everyone. The hardest part is finding her. Fate has dealt us all with bad hands...IT'S UP TO US TO PLAY THE RIGHT CARDS. sucks don't it! |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 08,July,2004 | Life seems to jump in leaps and bounds. Unfortunately, when you fall you fall extremely hard! Usually on your ass. It seems that life has treated my incorrectly...or at least that is the way I see it. It appears that I have the crap hand from the dealer and wil lprobably lose my shirt in one antie. This game is not for kids or the faint of heart. Maybe, only for us naive folk that still feel that if we try and hope real hard that we can still change the world. That love can save and heal all wounds. That it's powers can push us through any obstical and chang ethe future of all man kind. If only that where true. My most recent experiences with the 'Love Phenomenon' have provine otherwise. This drug, which should be illegal, can control minds, shorten breath, and most definitely kill a man. Though like all drugs it does have it ups. The intoxicating feeling of soemone wanting and needing you. The cloud touching affect of that first kiss. The delsions that everything will be okay. |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 08,July,2004 | When it comes down to realtionships the qoute from a smart unknown author 'Nice guys finish last.' Just like when you meet a girl, and you feel like there is a connection. She turns to you and says the most dreaded words a guy can hear, 'I'm sorry. You are a nice guy, but this just isn't working out.' OUCH...that's a slap in the face and a kick in the nuts at the same time. Is this just the way they like to let us down easy? Yet, I don't think that they understand that this line is not easy for men to take. Kind of like dropping the soap in a prison shower. So this bring me to my next point. No matter how often we have heard the above statment and had our manhood handed to us but the opposite sex, we continue to where our white armour into ever confrontation. Why do we play the good guys? Is it the naive thoughts of grandure in assisting the damzille in distress? It appears the more down a female is the more we want to help. Maybe because we oursleves are so far down the spiral that we need something to make us feel better. Since we can not help oursleves we try to help someone else. Very noble statement...and so very moronic at the same time. |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 05,August,2004 | I write this with a alcoholic drink poured down my throughout. By my own hand. I pour it to forget the past and the future seems brighter. Odd...The more drinks...The better my future becomes. Is it a delusion of faith? Or just a pre-conception of the actual future? Do I just have thoughts of grandeur or absence of faith? This is a question I will never know the answer to. I look into my bleak future and see nothing. I know that my personal future looks as good as I want it...The world is mine. But, for some reason my heart seems to fail to see the truth to my words. For I have all but given up hope. To find that special someone at this time seems absolutely in phathomable. Many of you have written me asking what made me this way? Once I was strong, confident and controlled. For now I am a former shell of my once whole self. My personal being is stronger then ever. My companion alas, is not to be seen. I have not found her...Or I haven't had the intestinal fortitude to speak my heart which I do on these pages. For you see I don't want to some off as a stalker nor a complete babbling idiot. Though I probably do tonight. Weird, the affects of alcohol. For some it turns them into abusive rejects, for others sentimental emotionality. I guess I'm lucky then...I feel that I have to express my feelings with words more then my fists. I guess my intoxicated rambling will get me no where and tomorrow I will look back and see what a foul I am. But, the only word regretted is a word not said. If we hold all emotion back, what emotion do we have to share? What point is there to living? I need to grab a whole of my emotions and control them. As the over flow like a rain barrel in a monsoon. This is not because of one lone woman. I have loved before and I know I will love again. The latter is thanks to one women that blew me away! She was kind, gentle, nuturing. Though I never told her so. I let her slip threw my fingers, like I always seem to do. She knows who she is. She made me feel special. She believed in me...What did I do. I proved her wrong. Yet, I have made leaps and bounds to a brighter future. Leaving the past behind. Only thing I seem to worry about is leaving too much of myself in the past. Not carrying the good parts into the future. I just hope I don't become jaded. All though I think that has already set in... |
3,876,012 | male | 27 | indUnk | Cancer | 01,August,2004 | I sit back and look into the world from the bottom of a bottle. What kind of life is this? I need to get back on track. I want to be more then this, I want to be able to live my life in a better way. A good friend asked me recently. 'How do you keep such high hopes?' It didn't seem to be that big of a question at the time, but as I feel asleep that night it hit me. How did I? After dating a wonderful girl for 8 years and her breaking my heart, how did I not go into a downward spiral of despair? How did I keep my head above the water that has drowned so many poor souls? The pathetic answer is 'I don't know.' I guess I felt that there had to be someone else. Fate stepped in and has shown me a hard path. The path of self righteous and that I can survive on my own. Without emotional support from a girlfriend/wife role model. The best thing that could have happened to me. But, alas...These great feelings aren't lasting too long. I find myself on that rope again. Wondering if I'm going to find that special someone to ease this pain. Sure, after the girl that broke my heart, there have been others that have tugged at my heart strings and made the old heart do loops. But, no one to make me feel 100% whole again. With an exception. But that's another story for another day. |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 29,May,2004 | Last week I joined a Jiu Jitsu club - urlLink NYC Machado Jiu Jitsu , the the official East Coast representative of the Machado brothers and the premier Brazilian Jiu Jitsu academy in Manhattan. Overall, the tone and attitude of the school is professional yet relaxed and humble. The bit of informality is refreshing and not something I saw when I took Tae Kwon Do or Aikido. I've been to four classes so far and I know I am going to love this more than I ever did Aikido or Tae Kwon Do or Judo. The instruction by Prof. Marcos is fantastic. He is very knowledgable, patient and concerned about his students. The other lead instructor, Marcos' brother, Marcio, carries himself in the same way. The one assitant instructor I have met, Rene, is also a great guy. In other words, its a fantastic environment to learn one of the more effective arts out there. Its a family and I look forward to becoming a part of it. Its funny how you can just feel comfortable somewhere and with certain people. Instantly, you feel accepted and welcomed and like that you can fit in. In my younger years, I certainly learned what it was like to not feel accepted. So, when I get such a positive vibe from a place or a person, I really appreciate it. Travel wise, its easy to get there - just a short 30min train ride from White Plains to Grand Central and a 10 minute walk to the school. Its cool to get down into the city again, even just for a little bit and get to soak up the energy down there. I get to see the Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, Grand Central and the New York Public Library on my short walk and the lighing at 5pm in June in NYC just makes everything look better. Why Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ)? Why not go back to Tae Kwon Do or Aikido. Well, for one thing I'd seen first hand how effective BJJ could be in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) and later on in Pride. All the really good strikers -- people skilled in kicking and punching got eaten alive by grapplers. The attitude of most traditional martial arts is also a bit backward for me. At Fordham, they used to teach their students to spar with their lead arm up, exposing their ribs 'to present a target' for their partner. Those were the same guys that I looked forward to fighting back in 1988 at the WTA National Tournament at West Point. It was too easy. Of course, as fate has it I wind up at Fordham and suffering through their classes. I was actually told not to go after brown belts (as a purple belt) very hard because I needed to show them respect. I was like -- WHAT?!!? Oy. Suffice it to say that my time at Fordham Tae Kwon Do was short lived. Too much attitude, not enough skill. Aikido is super, but its a very difficult art to learn. I suppose from a self defense perspective you could master a move or two for all the different types of attacks in a realatively short time, but then getting them to work in a combat situation with a person not the same size you are used to is again --- difficult. Nothing against Aikido, I love it and respect it but I am looking for something that is a better workout and trains closely to what a street fight situation might be like. That's the benefit of BJJ, you train against people struggling very hard, and you do so on the ground where most fights wind up by chance or by design. Get a great workout, lose weight, get in shape and learn to defend yourself. Sounds good to me. Naturally, when I told my mother about this she was a little apprehensive. She was asking if it was like Tae Kwon Do. I told her it was more like wrestling. Of course, her mind lept immediately to people jumping off of ring ropes and hitting each other with chairs and all things WWE. Oy. After that I could not really get her to grasp the idea of it. Oh well, in the meantime she can think I am donning a mask and cape and calling myself the 'Masked Maruader'. Sheesh. Weight: 204 Resting Pulse: 73 |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 28,May,2004 | urlLink I went through a drawing phase a few months ago. Its stock paper and pencil and the model is from a Polo print ad. I don't have a scanner (ack) so I took a picture of it. Later on I colorized it in Photoshop. I had to 'cheat' a little bit to get the proportions of the head right, but what the heck, I drew this for me and I am ok with it. The drawing phases never tend to last too long. Usually its in some attempt to recover some part of my youth that I think I need back. If it gets really intense I start thinking of trying to go back to art school, get a career in advertising and so forth -- but the reality of it the money and the time are not really there. And neither is the drive or I suppose I would be drawing everyday. I like to dabble though. So, dabble I do. Pick things up, put em down is the way I seem to work. Posted by urlLink Hello |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 28,May,2004 | urlLink The colorized version done in Photoshop. Posted by urlLink Hello |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 28,May,2004 | Being a systems analyst at Westcon is a lot like working for the fire department. You need to stay prepared, stay aware and just wait wait wait for something to go wrong. Inevitably, something always does. So, in the spirit of making dealing with tickets a bit more palatable, a few of us here have taken to writing and including haiku in or about our ticket responses. Without further adieu, here are a few: tickets are like fish for they have no sense of time they will still wait there Notes will not open. Tickets are there waiting now. They will wait longer. Patiently I wait. Tick Tock Tick Tock its Friday my home beckons me 'I click the button The page it is not there now I will shop elsewhere' I cannot log in The problem is not my own ticket needs new home |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 21,May,2004 | Well here we are. Trendy trendy. Trendy indeed. |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 25,June,2004 | My good friend, Dennis Derobertis, the owner and creator of Office Power and D2Stuff, got a small measure of satisfaction the other day when his cousin called him and told him his urlLink Action Pack for FrontPage software was actually in stock at Amazon. He's developed the software, designed the packaging, got the CD's pressed and packaged and got a distributor. He got his product listed on Amazon, but with a label of 'out of stock or discontinued on it.' All he needed was someone to make some phone calls and get a case sent to Ingram or some numbers entered in some inventory DB for the product to be listed as something people thought they could actually buy. Whatever it was my buddy agonized for 1.5 yrs waiting for that final step to happen. I hope its not too late and that maybe some sort of relationship can be created between FrontPage and his product - one of those 'in addition to' recommendations on Amazon might do a lot to drive business. Anyhow, I am happy for him and sad because the cavalry is arriving a little late. :-( If you use FrontPage to any sort of web work at all, check out his products at urlLink D2Stuff.com . They are big time savers and well worth the cost. And of course, check out the urlLink ActionPack. |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 15,June,2004 | Yesterday, I got to ' roll ' (lingo for sparring / freestyle) for the first time. Of course, I didn't do very well at all. Oh, sure there was a glimmer of hope here and there where I got a dominant position or had a good choke or arm lock for a little bit, but my more experienced partner got out of each of them and submitted me a bunch of times - mostly with arm bars. Its to be expected and I don't feel bad about it one bit. Like golf, those few techniques that I managed to pull off are enough to jazz me up and encourage me to come back and try again. What was really cool in a way is that I pushed myself harder than I have pushed myself since I left the Army way back in the day -- to the point where my whole body just kind of gave out. I'd forgotten how fast you can run out of gas, juice, energy or whatever you want to call it, but when it happens its like someone pulled a plug on you - everything just melts. So today, Advil is my friend. Tomorrow, the school is hosting a seminar by Helio Gracie, followed up by a party. Since I'm so new, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to absorb, but when you have the opportunity to meet a master and learn from him, I figure its a good idea to do it. Quick aside about the train ride home yesterday. Usually, its a quiet affair with the train packed with people that work late. Just normal worker folk. A few folks here and there might have a beer or two on the way back to unwind, but its casual and no one gets out of hand. Not last night though. Some mid 50's balding slightly overweight corporate guy had gotten himself falling down drunk. I'm not even sure how the hell he managed to walk to the train. He could not or would not pay his fare and kept passing out. Rather than risk confrontation, the conductor just shrugged it off and let him sit there. As we approached our stop at White Plains, the guy tried to get up and promptly crashed to the ground. He struggled up, fell down again. At this point some guy was trying to get him back to his seat - telling him to sit down and take it easy. The drunk guy was waving keys around - so I guess he though he was going to just cruise home. Talk about a homicide waiting to happen. Ultimately the guy refused any sort of help, the cops were called and picked him up at the train station. What happened after that, I have no idea. I wonder what made him get that way and if it was a good time or maybe he had gotten a call from his wife telling him she had left him for the pool boy she had been banging for the past six months. Who knows. What I do know is that winding up in jail is generally on the 'don't want to do that' list. |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 15,June,2004 | I could not find my keys for the past couple of days. About five minutes ago, I found them, right where I left them outside on our deck. However, for the life of me I could not remember that until very recently. Memory is a funny thing. We block things. Forget things. Remember things. And we do so all for myriad reasons that I don't think we understand for the most part. The ability to suppress and the ability to recall memories are very powerful tools and ones we wield blindly, driven by circumstance and mindset. Sometimes its a survival mechanism (suppressing) but forgetting shit -- well that can just be dangerous. While I may or may not have suppressed memories (don't ask me what ahahhaa) I've always been forgetful. Its not bad like it used to be when I was a kid and would lose my head if it was not attached, but bad enough to be a pain in the butt and bad enough for me to stop doing something few people ever even get a chance to do - fly helos for the Army. I know people think I left my gig urlLink flying helicopters in the Army because of my marriage. While the two of us had our own troubles right off the bat, it had nothing to do with me deciding to leave flight school. The reason I left is that I did not want to kill anyone by making a mistake I felt was inevitable. I would just forget things flying instruments. I'd forget which way the wind was blowing and make my initial holding pattern turn wrong. I'd forget if I had made that turn at a marker, etc. It never happened enough that I failed a flight or failed a checkride. But it happened enough to make me sick to my stomach as I flew. It affected my confidence and I could not help but wonder what would happen if I forgot in combat or forgot with other lives on the line. Does that sound like a copout? To some maybe it does. But I tell you what, I'm sure some Sgt. in Iraq would be happy to know I lost my keys and not his life. One of the keys to not being forgetful is mindfulness. I've been working on that lately as part of my interest in Buddhism. Its something you always work on I guess, but its helped me realize the importance of the inconsequential. Everything is important. Nothing is important. Just pay attention!!! |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 30,July,2004 | Its been too long between posts. Blah Blah etc etc. Yeah Yeah. On the mat: Hey now! I busted my cherry and got my first tap out. Yeah, the guy was a little newer than me, and yeah, the guy was a little smaller -- but hell, after getting my @$$ kicked all the time I will take it. It was a nice north south choke. In another match I had a great double leg takedown on a blue belt but left my head exposed on the landing and wound up getting cranked and tapped out right when I was thinking 'Things are going really well here...' LOL. Experience tends to win and I am still waaaay short on that. My buddy Dennis was brave enough to roll with me in his backyard last weekend. If I can bait him with cool rashguards to wear, I might get him to train regularly. Actually, he could not be baited, but he does have a weakness for rashguards. Hey if nothing else, he could wear one clubbing maybe. urlLink BrazilianFightWear.com if you're interested, Den. My biceps are still killing me. Not just my right arm now, though that one is worse, but both arms. They start to ache during training and it gets really bad right after and then dissipates in about 3 hours. The doctor wants to perform surgery and reattach my biceps tendon to my right shoulder. The thing is, the injury he saw on the MRI is ancient and I went through basic training with that, mountain biked with it, lifted with it, did Aikido with it. You get the idea, it did not bother me at all. Maybe all of a sudden it does? But both arms? Second opinion time. No slicey slicey for me. Time for WebMD and maybe a visit to an Acupuncturist. On the homefront: My sister is struggling. Financially, mentally and physically. Here's to her deciding to help herself. And - here's to my parents getting some peace of mind finally when she does. Had a great dinner with my Uncle Mark last night. It was nice talking to him one on one and just getting to know him a little better. Granted, I've known the guy for many years but we've always met at family holiday things and there's always distractions. This was different because we talked. It wasn't just bitching about something, or the weather or me rambling about video games or something else that only I find interesting. We covered family, politics, jobs and hopes and dreams. And while I thought the world of him before, I love thy guy even more now. All because I made a little effort and picked up the phone. Its amazing how easy it is to NOT do that. Relationships die that way. Like cars, they need maintenance. BTW The restaurant was a nice little Italian place on 34th St. between Park and Lex called Villa Bruella. Try it. |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 06,July,2004 | A while back, I actually applied for culinary school. A fit of frustration and depression drove me to finally complete the application to the French Culinary Institute. I'd been thinking about doing something like that since before I left Enterprise. I'd dismissed it though - crappy hours, big pay cut, etc etc. There were always enough excuses not to do it. One day in late April or early May - they did not seem so big. What was 28K for tuition? Peanuts! What was trying to finagle out of work early a few days a week in order to go to class -- no big deal!! It could be done. So I apply online, send in my application and a non-refundable deposite of $500 because I am serious dammit. I start talking to people at the schook, getting uniforms, a start date, got to get my financial aid stuff going. So, to take care of the paper work part of things I need to drive down into the city. I bail out of work at 4pm and 20 minuntes later I am at the Triborough bridge in a full panic saying to myself what the hell am I doing what am I doing -- I can't do this!! This is nuts! You get the idea. Of course, our ecommerce systems at work shitting the bed, and my boss calling me telling me I need to get back did not help matters. So I wind up turning around, my tail between my legs and a career change aborted. At least my therapist seems to think I made the right decision. So here's the lie part - I tell my friend Dennis that I had to come back to work and that my boss had called me and screamed at me and that I just had to go back to work and that I did not see how I could go through with this and still work. That part was true, but I hid the panic attack from him - and a few other people. So, this weekend we got together and were having some nosh at Perkins, dining on some killer pancakes and ruminating on our lives. I'm not sure how we got around to it, but I brought up the fact that I had freaked out and turned around -- totally having forgotten my lie. Den, having a memory of an elephant, remembered and said, 'I thought your boss called and you had to go back.' For a second I was flying toward my mental closet where my tap shoes are and thought better of it. 'Well yeah. He did call. But I didn't have to go back. I freaked out.' Den's single response about it was, 'Ah, so you've been trying to play the tough guy.' and that was it. Its good to have friends that understand you, even when you don't understand yourself. But lies -- they come back like comets man. You forget about 'em and they come back. When you are honest, you never have to remember anything and you never lose credibility. Some people I know haven't caught onto that yet, and if they told me the sky was blue I would have to look outside to check. And I hope they get the help they need, but they have to want it. |
3,414,204 | male | 35 | Internet | Capricorn | 01,July,2004 | Went to a BJJ seminar at the NYC Machado Dojo this past Saturday. The special guest instructor was Helio Soneca from the Gracie Barra in TN. What a powerhouse guy. Small, but waaay slippery, way strong and extremely talented. More than all that though, a great personality and enthusiasm for what he does shone through. Its contagious. On the one day that I went, we trained without a gi and divided our time between muay thai kickboxing at first and then ground techniques. We rolled for two hours straight. Unfortunately, I hurt my arm / shoulder from the repetition of one move where I got rolled again and again on my right shoulder. By the end of class my arm was aching from the top of my shoulder to my hand. In a freak accident on Monday, I reaggravated it. But again, with ice and elevation the pain went away and I went to class on Tuesday. That was a mistake. Again by the end of class my arm was killing me worse than it did on Saturday. Throw in some numbness in my hands and there you have it. Owee. So I get on the train. Its packed so I have to stand and I about pass out from the pain and or the naproxen I took right after class. Everything was going on me and I just sat down and I got my vision and hearing back. Of course I had had to throw a guys bag in his lap to get the seat -- SOB would not let me sit down. I was said 'Move your fucking bag or I am going to pass out right on you.' He must have thought I was crazy because he looked at me and looked away. That's when I tossed his bag. Screw him. So Weds I go to the doctors, and of course there is no pain, again, and all of his moving me around produces no pain. I told him, it only hurts when it hurts, and even then, it does not hurt to touch my arm or shoulder. Pain just radiates down my arm and its weak. Its really weird. Suffice it to say no BJJ class for me today. Decided that discretion is definitely the better part of valor. Going tonight would have just meant another visit to the pain factory and I've been on that tour twice this week. That's enough for me. Hopefully the doc gets back to me soon with an OK for an MRI or some sort of diagnosis so I know how to treat this. Here's to it just going away and me being in class again on Tuesday. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 27,July,2003 | Good day, mortals. It seems that I have not been posting for quite a while for quite a good reason. Anybody watch the Memphis news? Or, even better, anybody in Memphis on Tuesday July 22? That's right. 100 mph straight line winds that snapped telephone poles like toothpicks and uprooted trees (the whole root systym) and knocked out the damn electricity for most of the city. Fun galore. I am currently in Jackson, Mississippi, hiding from the boiling heat in the cool air conditioning of my granparents' home. Feel my power over nature. I was flipping through this little poetry book I gave my granparents for a holiday and I am realizing how much the style I once adopted has changed. A sort of evolution, if you will. Somewhat weird. I felt it necessary to write for that reason. By the way, this is to Elise, who dragged me from that mental wreckage I once found myself in. A soul is sighing and crying alike Recollections of an old hand dancing Not dancing Stumbling along the computer keys Some edifice of a structured rhyming line Forgotten by now, an empty home When winds were whistling, I could hide there Light a candle Read Shakespeare Smell the hardwood floor and the aged sofa I won't return I have a new home to call my own My own Not my own, yours maybe I borrowed your style, tried to Loving thoughts that flow together Call it an emotion of jealousy Infused with that mindset of gratitude That is precise Gratitude for a rebirth Gratitude for a new awakening A renaissance, of sorts, for this time This time alone You brushed your pen across my eyelids And I inhaled alien air into my lungs A brighter poetry Where would my mind be if you had not Seen me Smiled Sat beside me in that classroom Called me up for a movie I feel that I am still wallowing An ocean of eternal undertow That's me See the speck in the blue, right there It's closer than it was Closer to shore Farther from drowning in despair and insanity Ani is there to comfort me, through my ears You are there to confort me, through my mind I feel newer I feel evolved Your friend believes I will do something Totally unexpected Entirely revolutionary Exploding from my silent cocoon I would not even be realized if I had not awoken You had not shaken my left shoulder and Pulled me onto the dance floor. Ever realize how far you've gotten since a point? I was experiencing such. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 21,July,2003 | Good evening, mortals. I feel regretful this evening. I posted a poem on the blog DOY in response to the prompt, but I felt bad about doing such, because it just....didn't.....flow. Alanna is angry-but-not-in-an-explosive-way at me for betraying the DOY code of never removing posts. Here is the dangerous poem that could strip your eyes of the retina if you read it too closely. Unconsciously Voice so tiny in the receiving end of a telephone Or binary code words slapped onto the white screen I can talk to you over a distance of wire and metal And I can know what you think You can tell me that you are writing or dancing To a selection of rock music that rolls through the speakers. I just feel it can be so false When your eyes are not there, then, to assure me Of what you are thinking And how you breathe when you hear the telltale noise Or a shadow that moves in the living room. It is then, fully awake That you are entirely conscious of what you want to think And thinking is not unconscious Realized as each thought forms gently Upon the breeze of memory and mind You dress as you feel your ideas And spontaneously call me up for a spin. Insomnia, as defined by old Webster Chronic inability to fall asleep or remain so I find that you are the most random over the wires When you can’t fall into a dream But the dragging effect of fatigue pulls at your eyelids And you run tot he kitchen for a wake-up call. Spontaneous, I say again A chain of random thought that ties itself in your mind Tired as it may be And we can speak, oddly, of blueberries and Monaco At the same time, with no transition. I think you are lovely upon awakening Sounds odd, I understand But your voice is groggy over the phone wires And in that moment you can be undisturbed by life’s pain It is that carelessness that allows you to giggle From fatigue or wake dancing to the radio beats. Sleep is a funny thing As I need my share, and you need yours We both despise the bloody activity Unconscious for several hours, laying sprawled in bed I hate just drifting off But I enjoy the effects of waking on your voice And your eyelids, when closed, are beautiful. This is written to a 'you', but I shan't state whom. It broke something of the fluidity on the DOY site; thusly, I deleted it. I did not like it posted. Odd feeling, but it has been eating at me all day. Saw a movie entitled The Royal Tenenbaums . Beautiful movie, really random, and from there comes the genius of it. Richard Tenenbaum (Luke Wilson) and Margot Tenenbaum (Gwyneth Paltrow) are my two personal favorites: Richard, a tennis-playing suicidal hippie, and Margot, a smoking depressed adopted child, who turn out to love each other secretly. Lovely movie. Get it when you can. I am currently reading The Grapes of Wrath for AP English class. It is a hell of a book, and it is hell in itself. Not very exciting, from what I have read thus far. But I shall triumph eventually. Yoga class was cancelled. My first class. Unhappiness. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 20,July,2003 | Good day, fellow mortals. I dropped by Alanna's blog (a letter from Memphis) and found this rather odd quiz concerning mental restrictions. Turns out I am pretty screwed-up after all. Disorder Rating urlLink Paranoid : High urlLink Schizoid : Moderate urlLink Schizotypal : Very High urlLink Antisocial : Low urlLink Borderline : Low urlLink Histrionic : Moderate urlLink Narcissistic : Moderate urlLink Avoidant : Very High urlLink Dependent : Very High urlLink Obsessive-Compulsive : High -- urlLink Personality Disorder Test - Take It! -- Interesting, I daresay. Also talking to Alanna about therapists. Seems that many people I know have seen a therapist once in their life. Exciting stuff tonight. First yoga class, and I hope that it shall me exciting. I believe that yoga is a type of dancing that is expressed in a slower, graceful movement. Kinetic art. Beautiful stuff. It rains at the moment, which makes my mood improve. Odd and confused as it is, I despise the sunlight and prefer night and rain. Yes, I assured every person reading this blog that I am a bit off my rocker. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 20,July,2003 | Good evening, fellow mortals. I am incensed due to the current health warning in my little part of the world. In accordance to the weather channel, the ozone layer is currently disintegrating like styrofoam. They state: A CODE ORANGE HEALTH ADVISIRY IS IN EFFECT. This translates as, 'the ultraviolet rays that are seeping through the atmosphere are so damn intense that they can fry you like batter if you step outside for a long time.' Fun time if you like skin cancer. I personally don't find the idea appealing. I am genetically inclined to that kind of stuff (cancer, etc.). Can you say diesel fuel byproducts and artificial refrigerants? That spells CO, CO-2 and CFC. I am not happy with the environmental situation. They really need to roll out the new hydrogen cars. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 19,July,2003 | Fellow mortals, AP scores arrived today. For AP World History. Slit my throat now. Today's grade for the evil college exam from hell is ........................................... drum roll please ................................................................................................... 4. Out of 5. That is okay but, you know, still kind of disappointing. I was expecting to make a two. Wasting my time today on worthless summer assignments. The Awakening (Chopin) is an okay waste of time, because it sparks the most minute amount of interest possible for a summer assignment. I would still rather be reading Francisca Lia Block. Poetry in written form. Not this formal fiction about an artist. Oh, by the way, I have added several links to other blogs. To your right, you will find the link to Elise's blog (Just Dream), not to be confused with her site, when doves cry. Also you might find Brock's site (The Bat Cave) as well as the blog I have very recently become aware of, Zoë's blog (KiwiAGoGo). Have fun. Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 18,July,2003 | Good day, mortals. I am about to get a car to use as though in my own possession! Feel the dynamic power held within the scraps of metal and twisted wires. I had a rant last night. It was not fun. I dunno what sparked it entirely, but it was kind of disturbing and, you know, when your ranting you can get into it and hate it at the same time. I got to one part where I really upset myself, and I think that part should be interesting to post, but beware of the language and the emotions within it. '...I wanted to cry like I want at Morgan Fox's poem, but I can't. I can't, goddamnit, because I am insensitive. Damn it, I can't feel anything, can I? People laugh and cry and react in ways I can't because I don't understand how. They feel things and I don't know how feel it. Why can't I feel things as an emotion? If someone died I wouldn't do anything...I can't cry or pain or pine or feel like other people unless it's fucking fear. Fear or anger. Mostly fear, which inspires anger. I hate being so fucking different. It's a sickness...I know that I hide it and and I hide all the goddamn emotions but it is still there like a goddamn parasite...I've been lying to myself I think...' Written late late last night/early this morning, when I fell into the attitude. Won't say why. This did include some other people, and they played a big part in the rest of it. The whole rant theme was about fear. I am excluding those people and references thereof for reasons of my own choosing. This is why I wanted people to be warned. Yes, I am probably borderline insane, so keep that in mind when reading. It happens and it is going to happen. It's inevitable. Cheers, humans |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 14,July,2003 | Good evening, fellow mortals. I am giving my random spontaneous thought. Here it is: Sweet Chili and Onion Thai Rice is very very good for a meal. Okay, let's move on. Tonight was the open mic night at Java. We had two guitarists and many poets (Morgan Fox is, I steal the concept of Elise, a fucking genius poet). I was struck by how painful Morgan Fox's poetry was. Tarah read as well as Elise. Then there was a girl who poetized/improvised which was damn cool. I was planning to read the second prompt poem I wrote for Alanna (DOY) but, alas, I am such a damn coward in front of an audience. I did get ready to read though! It was simply a minute before open mic closed, and a bit too late. Now Elise and Alanna and Morgan Stewart and Zoë are prepared to murder me. I am too fearful of people. Elise and I think it is because I don't trust people. I need to work on that. It restricts my poetry. Shakespeare is like mashed potatoes. You can't get enough of them. (-Frank McCourt) Here is the prompt poem I was going to read. Look ahead Parallel lines wandering off in the distance Never meeting, so says geometry Lines painted by liquid silver upon a rough curved surface A metallic insect crawling on a track Wood and steel and stones to stand The iron driven deep into the living slats To hold the path together, a tie of sorts Euclid says that the lines will never, can never touch Look up The twisted set of human handiwork A factor that lifts the beast of terra creation To obey the will of the human sculptors That is physics 101 A triangle is the strongest shape arranged Into a tower that can't stand to the elements Gravity would drag it into an arch But cosmic laws say that it can stand Unlike the bending of a cardboard tube Newton says that gravity pulls downward Look around Walking with hands in pocket, down a trail To your left you see the future of this little disintegrating society Rolling off into the distance It's belching smoke into the atmosphere C-F-C's and C-O-2's The sun is growing more hidden each day Mental society breaking down Looking at this little human invention, a toy It's devouring nature at its own slow pace No sun, no air, no life Fuck this endless circle of death and decay When you are collecting two-hundred each time you pass go There goes another rainforest And when the last fish caught, the last tree cut The last animal stuffed and put on display Man will realize he can't eat money Look up again There is the sun, wallowing in an oily haze of pollution Look ahead again An incoming smog is rolling around Break-out the gas masks and the goggles We are getting to the place we are headed Dead-end, no passing go, collect your goddamn cash for the last time Only footprints left between the railroad ties. It is rather angry and melancholy, but more angry than melancholy. Ever have that feeling that you are among the few who know what is actually happening to the earth when a diesel engine lets off a putrid cloud of black smoke? I am one of those. It really sucks too, because people don't see the importance. The earth is just a temporary resource to them, and when it dies, where will they go? WE DON'T LIVE ON A RENEWABLE RESOURCE PEOPLE, DAMNIT! I apologize for my ranting. I shall fall silent. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 14,July,2003 | Evening, fellow mortals. I am not just a vampire anymore. Now, I am a vegetarian vampire. Feel the irony rush through your veins as though the very blood from which your life is created! Today is rather a sad day, for my neighbors had to take their aged dog to the vet and have him put down. It was merciful to the dog, because he was steadily growing blind and he had several health conditions that caused him much pain. In addition, he was quite old, which made the health conditions even more dangerous. They put the dog down this morning, unless I am mistaken. Wandering in a world of death and pain The society no longer wants emotion Feelings pump into the brain like living blood “Don’t show them, damn bastard It’s just a stupid feeling We do live in a time of inconvenience, you know” They was in self-convinced Reassurance Martyrs to themselves because they stay silent A heavier load upon the their shoulders each time They refuse to cry They refuse to speak Among the first to feel the emotional flood As it breaks the wall of the mind A torrent for long held within a feeble grasp They don’t cry, they don’t speak They’re in a mental institute now. Crystals forming upon the breeze Flowing The quartz is still a living organism too Unable to feel any emotion Save sadness, pain, agony It crawls down the cheeks from the eye corners Flies away on a zephyr before it touches earth The hosts from whence it came They feel They are upset over the world Pain and death that stole from their hearts Their minds weeping The emotional dam allowing a trickle A tear splashed upon the soil A life worth more than imposters of feelings. Comment freely on this poem or the current state of affairs in your existence. If you were the friend of a canine who has passed away, then you must know how the trouble of this impacts your mind like the blow of a hammer. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 13,July,2003 | The power behind the power - spirit. SPIRIT is your chinese symbol! urlLink What Chinese Symbol Are You? brought to you by urlLink Quizilla |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 12,July,2003 | I believe I forgot several of me fellows on the post concerning Saturday July 12 Tila - a friend I met at Bridges, through whom I was introduced to Miles. She has her own special name for me - 'Soft Hands'. Self-explanitory. Though I suppose it is a matter of opinion. And she enjoys the rain to the same degree I do. She also frequents Java Cabana, the coffee shop. Morgan - younger sister of Alanna, who joins the DOY poetry circle with her extreme randomness that I envy. I wish that I could mimic her extremely random thoughts, for I find them quite hysterical. Experience her on DOY. (see the link) And, by the way, she enjoys Saltine crackers and does not enjoy potatoes. And she is an actress and movie producer. Alanna will often touch up the films for a good performance. Laylee - a photographer who is quite talented, who often includes Becca in her pictures. She too is in on the DOY poetry circle. Laylee is quite a charming young lady, and she is extroverted and fun to be around. I regret not knowing more about her. Johnna - another friend I met through Elise. She lives quite a ways away in, I believe, Collierville, and she also is quite a charming young lady. I joined with Johnna to observe fireworks on the fourth of July. That was quite exciting. Arthur - a fellow DOY posting poet who lives far away in I forget where - New Hampshire. He is a cool dude, if you will excuse my obsolete speech, and he is past the malicious high school experience. He is currently out of hell, and I believe he shall proceed to college. He is also a musician, like myself! Cheers, my fellow mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 12,July,2003 | Everyone must look in the Memphis paper today! Metro section, page B8, continued story from B5, prompt word 'Concerts.' Fucking yeah! There is Brock and Elise and Becca and they are frozen in time as they dance at a Violent Femmes concert. Look there immediately or I will smite you to the core of your being immediately for disappointing my fanatical mandates! This is how you spell power, my fellow mortals. If you lack the Memphis Commercial Appeal, visit the site and look at the article concerning urlLink Concerts and feel the utter power of being immortalized in a picture that represents kinetic motion to the max. I apologize for the extremely random behavior I just engaged in. But it was fun. You must feel the power now. Go and see at gomemphis.com. Cheers, fellow human beings. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 12,July,2003 | Good evening, my fellow mortals. I had an excellent time this evening with my good fellow Elise. We talked randomly in Japanese and Spanish at Shelby Farms so that we could draw odd looks from passerbys and confuse each other thoroughly in this odd exchange of ideas. The moon looked huge as it rose while the sun set into the horizon. Then we observed a show of Eddie Izzard. He, truly, is fucking insane, but he is an 'executive transvestite', so do not mock him. He spoke about the empire of Hitler ('Nazi shithead') who ran into Russia like Napolean and received a nasty shock from the weather ('vegan Nazi shithead - would you like some human flesh? Tastes like chicken'). Then Izzard spoke of the ancient Roman gods: Geoff, god of biscuits, and Scott, god of hairdos. ('Cake or death?' 'I want cake' 'Give him his cake!') My short story that I am working on currently is currently a load of BS. That is why it is 16 pages long, and it imitates a book I am made to read and study and utterly tear apart for AP English 11, because that is all we do - tear the book apart until it has no literary or intellectual value and is made into some damn life lesson. We murdered Old Man and the Sea (Hemingway) last year; it has no appeal to me anymore. I killed it. Poetry that I wrote randomly because I wanted to speak of this evening's events: Two figures walking, conversing The intricacies of three random languages Hispanic Boy comments to Oriental Girl Commenting on the beauty of the sunset reflection Sitting to watch the final sunrays That ignite the clouds, flammable tender And the moon is rising, magnified. Ocean of darkness plunging forth Torrents that have broken the resplendent dam Swirling 'round, the perfect tornado Spain and Japan hide in a two-story home Fucking ugly, with those malevolent spotlights Contemplate the dishes, from Third World or the East And chose the red rice While laughing at the bloody British. Strawberry and a chocolate cream Lingering sensation But a memory on a tasteful palate Arguing over poetry and human imagination Arguing over the green paper strips, US religion Capitalist pigs that we are (Damn them all, boil the melting pot) Tori Amos flinging her notes carelessly to open ears. A simple hug to show mutual respect The night air is growing cooler with the suspended pearl Quite a lovely evening The light kiss upon the left hand But surprisingly for the foolish hermit A kiss by the lips of the falling tear Shocked for a moment, temporary silence The sign returned to the right of the right eye Where she had fallen before. Cheers, my fellow mortals. Have a lovely evening. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 12,July,2003 | Good evening, fellow mortals. I am demented enough to think that I am a supernatural being, and I am convinced by fellows of mine (e.g., Elise) that I am a vampire. There. That is the random thought for the day. No, actually, I have many more. My good fellows are as follows: Elise - my patron goddess with silver wings. She rules the site urlLink When doves cry . She is a poet and a writer and a graphic artist and she is an angel. She is also the only person I know in this little group that can drive alone. Alanna - goddess/saint of computers that deserve to be damned to hell and back again. She is the supernatural spirit/janitor of the site urlLink DOY . She too is a writer and a poet and her younger sister Morgan is also wicked at the visual and intellectual. Don't listen to Alanna when she says her poems are crap. They are not. Brock - an acquaintance I have met through Elise and wish I could be around him more because he is an awesome guy and - you guessed it - a poet and a writer and a consummate graphic artist. You will go urlLink to the Bat Cave right now and see his blog. Brock speaks a wicked French tongue and he will move to France some day. He is a French god stuck in the US of A. Becca - I do not know Becca all too well but I have met her through Elise and the whole DOY gang. She is a freaking genius on the guitar, I am establishing that fact right this moment. Meet up with her at urlLink Cylindrical Poppycock and other Nonsensicle Things . And obey the word of the new rock goddess who posts on urlLink DOY . Zoë- a dancer goddess. She cruelly made me dance for the camera when we were filming to make Elise and Brock feel guilty about deserting us for a small insignificant writing camp. She is hysterical. She lacks a blog location right now, but go to DOY and you can absorb the power of her poetry and writing. Robin - she is not really a member of DOY but she has a profile there. Robin is the queen/goddess of the four young men who exist in all times as the Beatles. But do not say Paul McCartney in her presence. She will utterly smite you. Visit and see her disposition to our 'beloved' McCartney. urlLink The Evil Empire . Tarah - a wicked spanish speaker, a wicked poet and a wicked artist. She is soo damn good at art it isn't funny. And she posts on DOY, and she is really a nice person to be around. She has not a blog address that I can post, for apparently there are so very many blogs that she owns. David - okay, D-Dawg here doesn't engage in activities with the previously stated list of fellow poets and writers. In fact, he may hold a grudge against a few of them. (Not telling who....they know who they are). But David is still a cool Japanese-speaking dude. And he's Jewish too! And that leads me to matzos, which are also good. Sorry about that. Miles - a recent friend that I have become acquainted to in a very short time. She went to Bridge Builders camp the same week I did and, despite the restrictions of different teams and all that, she and I are good friends. She wishes for me not to post the address of her blog. I honor that request. And, by the way, she's a poet! Meg - a recent friend that I have become acquainted to in a very short time after an infinitly long time that I regret I did not speak to her. She and I are old friends from way back when...definately before school begins for children. She is so very kind and pleasant and sweet. She drives also. And, hot damn, she is a poet too! Cheers, my fellow mortals. These are my companions. Have a nice evening. Or don't. But hurry and make up your mind. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 11,July,2003 | I have now bridged the gap between my isolated self and the technological world. I bid thee mortals a good day, and ask you kindly to play fair and not bombard my computer or url with any crude or virtually fatal thoughts. I don't know how it is done, but I know it can be done. Somehow. It might take several millenia to reach that point where I do know how it is done, but some day I shall access that supreme power. My generally and currently empty mind is suffering from the strain of the blog and the html code and the computer that attempted to murder me and mutilate my body. I thank Alanna for kindly using her precious minutes to assist me in escaping hell in a handbag with my blog and my sanity intact. (Okay, the last item may have broken a few years ago, but who gives a damn?) You must go to the site she is the goddess and the janitor of. urlLink DOY . Go there now puny human or I will track you down and smite you. It is a site that twenty poets and writers and artists post on and Alanna herself is a genius at the English language. I post my own work there sometimes. I also have a patron goddess. That kind of thing has not been popular since the ancient Greek days but, hey, it could be the next fad. My patron goddess is the lovely Elise, and she has wings of mercury (quicksilver to the ignorant masses) and she has the ability to call upon divine force and smite you. In fact, she could probably get her divine friend Brandon to smite you too (he rules Canada currently but there are some believers in North United States and down here in Memphis Tennessee). Go to her site: urlLink elise's site or I will call her to smite you now. She writes poetry and novels and short stories and she is an angel genius. Go to her site now. For your convenience, there are two little links at the bottom of this blog that will take you there immediately. On a lighter note, I will be posting my poetry and/or compositions on this blog as well as on Alanna's site. In addition, the readers of this blog will have the pleasure of wading through the confused and sometimes poisonous swamp of my thoughts and emotions. Warning: The emotions and ideas floating around this site are the fatal and sometimes angsty feelings of a teenage boy who has the power to drive (but no car to exercise that in). Do not blame me if you soak up the thoughts like a plant and get many of the same ideas as I do. These thoughts will often be sad or deal with isolation and loneliness and this little thing I like to call insanity. Just to reassure you: I am not suffering from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it. Yes I speak to the outcasts and the pariahs and the isolated people of society: I am one of you. Cheers, my fellow human beings. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 11,July,2003 | I have no idea of how to run a blog so everyone pity me please. I will be creating this damn thing even if it kills me in the process because I will not be the only being in the multiverse to lack a location. Here we go... |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 31,August,2003 | Somebody tell me, Why I can't react to thoughts of separation To thoughts of death Thoughts of suicide No fear or hate A mental dusk falling Falling So many feet per second So many at once Somebody explain, Why when I get close to the Grand Canyon And look over the edge Or stand on a highway shoulder and squint As a thousand suns glare past me Why do I have the urge The inside urge The unexplainable, insatiable curiosity To jump Trip, fall Into the earth scar or onto the asphalt Just to see what would happen Maybe I am dreaming more than my mind Enjoys now I haven't dreamt in my sleep They're making up in waking Wandering In a half-stupor Wondering which way to turn Looking from a tower upon literally Thousands of lives Striding about in self-assurance I want to fall Feel the wind pulling at my ears Though I could never plunge from High diving board Low diving board Fear of height, to an extent, But fear is what kept the early man alive I think I can't feel it for what matters Or maybe I don't think Maybe it's all an instinct Someone tell me, Am I the only one who has These irrational fits of mood Even though No, no one, no psychiatrist Ever diagnosed me? Perhaps its a mental disease no one Found It's been almost a day since I had a cheerful idea No nightmare No dream Just dreary reality That sucks the imagination from Everything Don't hate me Don't pity me I just want an answer Life is like insulin Hate it, but can't do without it Take what you got Even if you never wanted it Somebody tell me Who I am And am I now? |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 28,August,2003 | Good evening, mortals. I sincerely apologize for my lack of posting over the past few days. I have been busy dying in a flurry of English literature essays, Biology enzyme papers, and Calculus...er...calculations. But Calculus, despite the constant vigilance it requires, goes rather well methinks. I find it quite enjoyable, to the dismay of several of my colleagues. Becca and I spoke today about significant figures in chemistry, because significant figures are THE MOST VAGUE sectors of science in general. She figured them out without my assistance. I was useless (oh well). I can see Elise and Laylee daily now! Indeed, I am permitted to see Elise early in the morning at school because I get to the school building earlier, and I may see Laylee following lunch period C when she is leaving AP English and I am heading towards mathematics. Happiness, I daresay. I should like to post a prompt poem that is utterly crap. I posted it on DOY because Alanna demanded that I do, and I dare not deny her. But it is crap. The prompt was '[ ] is a lazy hush fuck', 'Danish cookies', and 'NOOOOOOOOOOOO' (count the O's damnit, they count!) This thing got 74 comments. But a majority of them were the ramblings of Sirs Jerel and Nick of California. I am confused with Sally, so some people might think of me as female. But I am not! I am male! I won't prove it right now, but take my word for it. All around the world in 180 days My little book swept me off Feet grounded in a puddle of calculations Broom, I’m a witch sorcerer Paths of oxygen to six, seven continents Spiraling past the airplane window And a little child presses his nose to the plastic Makes a face Skip from North America to Peru Ziggurat steps climbing Arch over the stone cold apex My stomach’s talking to me – snow cones Fly over to Antarctica, scoop Another scoop, frozen rain Hopscotch up the eastern coast of Africa Flying carpets are popular now – cheap Greasy salesmen in turbans and sunglasses Times never change My brain cries, Danish cookies Zip up to England for tea time and Buttery crumpets Hover over Japan for an hour or two Neon maze Sushi fish, sushi rice! Little Japanese men make a computer chip And cry “NOOOOOOOOOOOO…” When their exhale snaps the silicon Let’s sit over the Arctic circle Earth’s attic Not time to return to school Never, never again To listen to the teacher, he’s a lazy Hush fuck, hush puppy fuck Rambling For a century about a century When some obscure dude from – where? Drew steel Ramble, ramble, no course or preamble Just like these lines. By the way, the prompt was constructed by lovely Morgan of DOY. I am an alien. Elise says so. I am also an Elizabethan Greek. Because Elise says so, and don't argue with Elise lest she smite you utterly. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 24,August,2003 | Herbal tea is good. That was extremely random, I know. But it is and it just evaporated my stomach ache so it is very good. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 23,August,2003 | Becky has a blog! Becky has a blog! Sorry about that. Good evening, mortals. Note the two new links on the side of the website. Numero uno, note the new urlLink American Pi . A wondeful site, I should say. But be wary what you find there. Your mind might split like a cantaloupe. Second it is Becky Becky Becky's blog because I told her she needs a blog and who cares that she doesn't have anything to put on it? Go there now lest I smite thee. urlLink Becky's Mind . hehehehe everyone really is on a blog these days. I saw the crew this afternoon turning south onto White Station. Specifically, Laylee and Becca. Cue the twilight zone music. Actually, it was in mid-turn that we saw each other and waved frantically. It was fun. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 23,August,2003 | My error. I forgot to mention the large storm that attempted to murder everyone again. It was, in the terms of my colleagues, the superstorm's ghost. It rolled around at roughly 12:00 this morning (yes, midnight) with 40 mph winds and tried to kill eveything but, since it was a wimpy storm, it only shut off the power from a few places. Of course, no one in the US will hear about it because NO ONE HEARD OF IT IN THE FIRST PLACE ON JULY 22! Of course, everyone knows about New York (bitter mumbling). Mars is supposed to be closer to the earth tonight than it has been in 60,000 some odd number years. The ruby of earth's neighbors. Or the rust spot. I like to think of it as the ruby. Look for it tonight, chaps, it supposed to be a wonderful view. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 19,August,2003 | Good evening, mortals. It durst seem that school has slowly been sipping my life force like a vodka martini (shaken, not stirred). I have suffered mental anguish because I almost die in AP Biology due to fatigue and almost die in Economics due to frostbite. Seriously, you try to sit in that portable for an hour each day, and Memphis's ozone-depletion hundred-degree weather will be paradise. At least for a few minutes. I suffered from that malicious sickness that seems to be floating around. Headaches and fever and stomach cramps and all that fun stuff. It made me miss more enjoyable ventures on Friday night. Disease and work sucks. No one is online right now, and I am alone and isolated and angsty and suffering from another of those funny mood swings that happens spontaneously and screws up my entire emotional balance. That sucks too. Mood swings. Yep. Poetry, or conscious thought stream, whatever you want to call it, is good for the creative spirit. Democracy My stomach seems to have been empty for the day after I slept sprawled on the sofa with aches lacing my boiling blood, empty like my eyes because I couldn’t see the green light when it flashed at that intersection and that was near where you died, wasn’t it and near where your broken body made me want the cold lead to silence the screaming headache a shifting weather barricade has formed, winds sound again like an ocean wave, trying to uproot oaken toes and fig-laden leaves in a tornado that cracks power lines like cracking that false mentality of safety I believed in when I was a child, the mentality that it was all going to be okay. But it wasn’t, it will never be for me when my life is spent running not from the dark but running from what hides in it like a virus, a virus that affects gays and agnostics and blacks and people who are so damn “different,” the KKK clans, Bellevue and them proper folks who is as straight as a warped board hate them because they represent the principle outside and beyond black chains of slavery and prejudice and centuries that cry Democracy, Republic while slitting the throats of those who knew what each false word meant, and I can say honestly that I fall under a mass generalization that has been looked over for a time. I call it adolescence, when our hormones flood our brains with a drug more potent than any illegal shit that is sold bootleg in the alleys, when our minds want to find clarity but instead we find that expectation to live up to or to make up for or to do, just do it and get it over with, here’s the article about it and here’s a condom, no, forget the condom and go fuck up your life any way you want or you aren’t popular, it’s unfair, is it not dear, but c’est la vie and we’re stuck in knee deep mire and don’t breathe, you might catch my illness or my insane ideas of a neutron star wormhole that could go back in time to when things were…were different, but were they ever changed and how much has the human race evolved to when the power is in the paper and I may not roll into my car seat and pave the streets with new views as I hold your back as I would hold a budding sunflower who won’t open her petals to sunlight. I bid thee humans a pleasant evening. Go to sleep. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 19,August,2003 | Good evening, mortal beings. It just so happens that car permits go on sale tomorrow at school which means hell trying to get one, the f***ing line will be stacked up to the outside of the room and it is a big room, allow me to assure you. Alanna was absent today because of some damn virus thingie and it was upsetting because Alanna is a vital part of the little group that coheres during C lunch. It sucks already that Robin and Elise are separated by being in A lunch and Laylee is in B lunch. My schedule hates me, it wishes to murder me softly. Elise wrote this wonderous but quite upsetting 'scene,' if you will, a concept that she thought of from the opinion of a third person observer. It is utterly beautiful, I assure you, but do not read it is you disturb easily from emotional content. This thing is packed to the brim with imagery and poetry. You may see it at urlLink Crash by Lise . In addition, I wrote a type of thought stream in response to it. I would not have posted it anywhere but I was tormented by Alanna and urged by Elise so I posted it on urlLink A Dream of You and here. Heart Strain An emotion of fear unexplainable infiltrates the cavity where my heart used to beat in a monotonous repetition, your voice is high and happy and excited somehow even as you are explaining your own death to me when it happened on the corner and I ran to your bloodstained body as it drained of life on the concrete, horrified to see even in my mind the image of you thrown from the tangled wreck of tin and aluminum, a red ink seeping from your arms, your stomach, your eyes, your lips twisting in unaccountable pain and a calmer smile in sleep, sleeping when the siren is wailing right around the corner, sleeping in a birth paradox, my fingers are stiff with fear gripping the cold plastic of a cell phone like a lifeline when I reach for the hand palm-upwards in a puddle of rainwater, and who gives a damn if I don't have the black umbrella, I need to protect her body from the crystals that fall from the clouds that might, just might be so precise as to release a more spiritual energy back into her cold body, her shivering body - oh God - it's not shivering anymore and the phone is just plastic and unfeeling when I grab her hand and hold it to my chest, driving the tiny shards of glass deeper and deeper into my bloodstream, let them poison my heart so I can accompany her like a guardsman sentinel of a goddess angel when she is slipping into the sleep she wants I want we want but it's not her life, it's just the dial tone and I have the urge to kiss you on the forehead, on the hand, on the lips to assure you are still walking with me. Assuredly, it is rather odd because it is so very different. I swear, my 'style' of poetry/writing has evolved, if you will, so very much in the past few weeks. That is all. A few weeks. And it is already so very different. Not the style that is most widely accepted, but nonetheless, I think, effective. I bid thee humans a lovely evening. Everyone should try to meditate tonight. It is most enjoyable. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 18,August,2003 | Good day, mortals. I should like you to note that I manipulated my previous post to have a version of the Spanish poem with better grammar and correct vocabulary. Have fun with it. Today was a rather uneventful. Calculus was good because of a maliciously evil test that I passed rather well. English was hell because of a maliciously evil test concerning the Grapes of Wrath applied on an AP level. Absolute insanity there. I shall never pass the AP exam. Today we had another prompt from urlLink A Dream of You . My resulting poetic attempt is entitled Anticipate Nature can live in the breast of a bird when it first spreads its honeycomb bones or it dies in an agonizing suffocation if a tendril of smoke leaks from a nearby factory to replace its dioxide but a chain has somehow formed around free will’s neck and I can no longer choose how I want to suffer. The congress passed a few bills that don’t let a person slit their own throat or drink poison, it’s all illegal and against the law and if the cyanide doesn’t allow him freedom of choice then he goes straight to jail for attempted sanity. Ringing on the pavement the dry sound of rubber in a battle of friction and resistance against asphalt and gravity, shoes that died with their owners are trying to pave a path back into Gaia, and their ghosts wander aimlessly in a delirium of real-world light and shadow world whispers. Each person I run into feels like a shower of dry ice that never quite made it to sublimation and their skin is chilled with the temperature of a netherworld prison, each one of them is as dead as my mind tells me I am, though it still feels the cold. There is a child who is sitting on the statue over there of a famous person who fought for pride who got off the ride who took the cyanide who found that in a frenzy of government she still cried when every man, woman, youth walking by her had eyes front, legs stiff because each of their minds were wiped from any suggestion of emotion. The child can cry too but the child isn’t really alive, he wants to be but the shackles set by society are chafing his ethereal wrists and he isn’t free to join his God, his Allah, his Yahweh while the adamant scroll believers turn their head the other way and preach about the institution, not the principle. Chipped into a stone that was thrown into an ocean a paranoid fool wrote Not Free, Not Free without the realization of what his mind would realize when a sky parted at the rift of time and the next black hole began to form. Shorter than what I have done of late, but it suffices. i bid thee, mortals, a pleasant evening to-night. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 17,August,2003 | Evening, mortals. I am currently feeling so drastically alone because no-one, in all seriousness, no one is online at the moment. Isolation is depressing. It just so occurred that the birthday itself was uneventful. Little brother got a wad of cash that he blew almost immediately on a collection of gaming equipment and Legos. The cake was very tasty though. Strawberry cake. Like a strawberry daiquiri that I drank tonight. Which I drank with the knowledge that it had nooo alcohol and while I was realizing that I would see nobody tonight which created a slight depression that I am reminded of while I pound the keyboard keys. My car passed inspection. Whoopdie freakin' do. Señor Espinosa, the teacher of my Spanish class, called today. It was a rather odd moment; I could hear his voice well enough with ten feet of space between me and the phone. But it was pleasing, because he complimented my assignments that I turned in early. He called me to compliment me. That is not something you usually hear of. I think he appreciates me due to a diagnostic test score that I recieved in his class. The poem that I gave him follows thus: Goteando veneno Viendo la gente que predica y habla y Cree en comprensión sincero, me hallo Situado fuera del círculo de conocidos Unidas por manos de confianza y Esperanza porque todos mis emociones y Mi mente están vacías. La explicación práctica que mis padres y La siquiatra ofrecerán siempre sugiere Que soy un adolescente, solo un adolescente, Mis hormonas son confusas con un cuerpo Creciente, pero sé que algo es diferente Debajo de la piel, lo sé mientras se arrastra Más lejano dentro. Oigo un grito de los corazones de Estrellas yendo nova, porque ellas no se dan Cuenta de nada ni sienten sus muertes, ni Sienten sus miedos. También tengo miedo Porque cada persona muere solamente Y mi vida es sólo una gota de agua en el Tiempo. Todo el mundo que conozco tienen un Objeto como ayudando o doliendo pero Tengo aún que encontrar qué red está Tocando mis amigos a mis dedos. Se Hace una telaraña cada momento que Agito una hebra. Me siento como un dios azteca, mirando a Mis hijos que se demacran de enfermedad y Dolor mientras los caudillos tienen fusiles A sus frentes y tienen que creer en un dios Diferente antes de que sus cerebros sangren De unas balas. En mis palmas, vida y cordura son como Mercurio, como agua. Pero el agua no tiene El veneno en mis vasos. El veneno en mis vasos, sí. La carretera desaparece rápidamente en Obscuridad mientras llantas cantan sobre Asfalto. Mi mente es también obscura Porque mis manos sangrando conducen La rueda delantera ya que estoy corriendo De los peligrosos pensando, y sé que Soy un fugitivo. Larvas de desesperación están creciendo Y tengo miedo de sus formas adultas, cuando Rompen sus conchas y florean como flores Con dientes de dolor. E hilarán los telarañas Entre los dedos de mis amigos y tendré miedo De nuevo, pero esa vez será más real. Puedo olvidar la red y los larvas cuando Escribo o cuando escucho a la música Que hiela el veneno. Y las estrellas no gritan Ahora, ellas suspiran. It naturally has a few mistakes in it, as I do not live as a translator. However, Sñr Espinosa thought it was lovely; he wished to know if I also wrote in English. In addition, he wishes that I translate a report on Peru and read it to the class. He is quite a pleasant Cuban. If you desire the close translation of this poem, simply ask me. I bid all of thee a good night, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 16,August,2003 | I am increasingly hating that last poem I posted on DOY and my blog and, apparently, so does everyone else. No one has touched it because it is a gruesome butchery of poetry and I need to apologize for it. I shall ask Alanna soon if I can delete it. Totally remove it. That sounds correct. Little brother's birthday today, he turns eleven and gets a load of cash that I envy. Lucky foolish child, he gets his birthday when he is around everyone else he knows. I had my birthday trapped at Bridge Builders. Not fun. Today's random quote which made me come here and post: 'The English don't necessarily pronounce everything right. They just say it the loudest.' Said by Miss Lovely British Accent Janet Baker-Carr. I love the British accent and vocabulary. She asked me if my school bade ill for the rest of the year. I will steal her voice one of these days. You know what I forgot to mention on accounts of Becca? Morgan Fox opened the night with beautiful poetry. He played few wicked pieces on the synthesizer and it was quite melodious and fluid and enrapturing. I can't see my companions today due to 'family matters', i.e., a birthday, but I shall have to talk to some of the later to reaffirm my sanity or lack thereof. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 15,August,2003 | almond. wrapped in coconut and milk chocolate, you are more popular than Mounds. elitist snob. urlLink What Kind of Nut are You? brought to you by urlLink Quizilla I am pretentious. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 14,August,2003 | Good evening, mortals. Enter and bow to the superior, potent influence of a new god. BECCA ROCKED THE WHOLE DAMN JAVA CABANA! She is a budding rose in the art of guitar-ism and musicianship; her songs are among my favorites right now in my experience with rock; she is one of the top five artists I listen to. Why in bloody heck has she not created a compact disc and distributed it. I personally would be buying one of the first copies. It was quite odd tonight. So many damn people came that I knew personally that I frightened myself. There was the whole 'group': dancer Elise, artisan Brock, photographer Laylee, computer queen Alanna (who I drove to get her camcorder thingie), filmer Katherine, programmer Zoë (who is currently working on her laptop). Then there was a host of people I knew and did not know. Christie, Margaret, Robin, Katherine (Warren), Nick (who - would you believe it - was on my soccer team back when), Lauren, Aaron (Elise's brother) and Bethany (Elise's brother's 'soul match'). And then there was Miles! From Bridge Builders! It was wickedly fun to see her again. But Becca kicks buttocks. That's all that is to it. Of course, so many people were stuffed like sardines into Java around Becca that the room heated up with the millions of heat photons bouncing around. But hell! it was awesome. The poem I posted of late did not recieve positive reviews. I shall have to re-analyze my style, for that one seemed a bit choppy. Naturally, some people were not to happy about the imagery in the last paragraph. I mean, who would be? It certainly ain't looking at a cracked glass half-full, now is it? You are all humans (save those few gods that I have specified in earlier posts or never at all). Thus, you must acknowledge the supreme melodic dynamic that Goddess Becca holds with the potential of smiting or destruction. Cheers, chaps. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 14,August,2003 | Good evening, mortals. It durst strike me that I have not posted in quite a quantity of time. I have been struck with the minor issue of summer assingments compounded with the new school year at White Station High Prison (f***ing da** son of a b**** of a school - sorry about that). My schedule is quite evil, it despises me, I don't get enough of those with connections to DOY because I see Robin in Economics, Brock in Engish, Alanna and Becca at Lunch, and NOTHING OF ELISE OR LAYLEE ON A REGULAR BASIS! damn school system Upperclassmen get their own lockers - I have the power. Tomorrow is Becca's kick-ass gig at Java. She is the main attraction, she has her own time and place, and every person who knows her well will probably be there. Even those who don't know her well might be there (e.g., me). I just have to escape dinner and I am there for the action. Par-tay, I daresay. DOY's server is finally back online, which is a thing that is quite happy. At least I have some connection in my screwed up isolated touch-tone dead end life. I wrote another poem with the intention of mimicking that which I wrote for the last post. Hallways stretch in multiple turns that fold back upon human cholesterol, membrane walls in a Golgi apparatus that resembles the cross section of a color- coded blood cell in page who-gives-a-damn of my biology textbook. Sometimes the graphite scratches on notebook paper ooze red ink like the educational ichors staining the white lines. Odd how it is that even as a sheet of papyrus wipes out a rainforest and kills count 100, 200, 300 species it can still find the strength to make a neat slit on the end of my index finger. The only places you can find legal euphoria these days are Nevada, California, Oregon: the Rockies don’t need pimps as long as the prostitutes sign their forms and bars give you a shot of oxygen for a healthier intoxication. Cascade Mountains have plenty of shrinks who help you get the suicidal medicines when the Pacific rains begin to hurt the mind, I am still waiting on the inclement weather perfect for my next evolution. I scream toward the light post from the safety of locked doors just to reaffirm that I have a voice, I have a voice, but I’ve forgotten how to use it when the world dances in a crazed fury of pollution and suffocation and dreams are shattered like ice. Warrior three pose resembles a cloud leap suspended over one knee and monks in Asia undergo brain readings for beta waves but I can never meditate for more than ten minutes, my senses stay alive and every pause of the air conditioner springs the mentality from caramel visions. Forgetfulness would be more bliss than I can get when I wander hunched over with one pendant of books and another of socialistic response, people expect my shoulders to be thrown back with pride when gravity becomes a foe. My legs have weeds slowly crawling up, caresses of a seductress who gnaws at my sanity. I stumble in a corridor where sexuality just killed sense by strangulation and the ominous perfume of illegal cigarettes of tobacco, of pot, of whatever the hell can be used to bong chokes my supply of air. Dreams can be nightmares, but I have almost no night escapades to reassure me that I am not in a coma. When he dances, she dances, my heart begins to breathe and I can clear my eyes of iodine and dishonesty to hear sweet sighing of a guitar string. I sometimes pretend I lie in a huddle with a pool slowly spreading from my wrists, I can draw the image now and tear it up because she sat next to the Random Information Guy giggling and opened my brain with aloe vera fingers to explore my religion of angst and change. No title for a reason, chaps. Such can make it so very beautifully random if it has no title. I bid every one of thee a good night, humans. Sleep well in the bliss that allows you to miss school (f***ing da** son of a b**** of a school - sorry about that). Evenin' |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 08,August,2003 | Good evening, mortals. Thus far, the poetry I posted yesterday has gotten excellent reviews from Elise, Alanna, and Zoë, despite the extreme randomness and the very odd structure. I dunno about the style. Very odd. I have recently seen two movies that I very adamantly suggest that everyone see. One is Donnie Darko , which is so neurotic and freaky and fucked-up that it is frightening. Really. I mean frightening, it has a demented bunny rabbit guy in it named Frank who looks like he was hit with a truck on the face, and it deals a whole lot with time travel, which confuses me to the extreme. The second movie is G.I. Jane , which is a righteous babe-type film concerning the first woman in the Navy Seals. It has actress Demi Moore, who shaves her head for the military and bulks up with some huge quantity of muscle. I have a new favorite actress. Met up with Elise, went to the library, and listened for about thirty minutes to an elderly man chew on his dentures. So we left there and walked in Shelby Farms, then proceeded toward a television to watch Donnie and set off to Japanese food. Quite fun, I daresay. Cheers, humans. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 07,August,2003 | Good day, mortals. I am returned from my college touring trip. A day early. We toured an entire two colleges - Sewanee and Vanderbilt. Sewanee is very lovely and bucolic and would allow great study but is rather restrictive in terms of a social life and solitary time. Vanderbilt is huge with many study possibilities and a rich social culture but it lacks the chance to really know the people on campus. I have missed so very many of my companions of late. One young lady friend called me Tuesday before I left and wished to see me, but, alas, I was about to depart. Sadness. I hope to see her extremely soon. Possibly in school. Which also sucks. School. It's about to begin in four damn days. Four damn days of working my butt off to finish the summer assignments I waited to begin because I am Master Procrastinator . I shan't enjoy it. A few days ago an asshole with a Ph.D. or an M.D. plowed my mother's car on the right side because he refused to obey the traffic rules. Fucking moron. Refused to stop at the dead light (review the Tennessee driver's handbook for dead lights) and plowed into the passenger side. With my brother in the passenger side. Luckily, it was a Volvo, and the steel beams prevented that door from entirely collapsing. Brother went to the hospital for minor facial injuries, but he's okay. The asshole is trying to say it was the light's fault, after changing his story from saying that he entirely stopped. (Bullshit-o-meter is rising). Poetry while riding the road to Nashville. It was an attempt to mimic a fellow DOY member's style (Brandon; kudos to his poetry) with a mix of my own inspiration. So, it probably sucks. But I need opinions. Comment on it. A rain haze hangs over the asphalt and i am forcibly reminded how death-like, how creepy horror-film scenario the road is looking, the sky is aglow in the west with a space-thrown candle light. The horizon around the sun's eye is a deepening blue with a robe of strata cloud grimacing at the plants, and an intermittent rain begins to speckle the glass shield in tiny droplets of transparent quartz. Black tires are kicking water from the highway onto the car's rubber fingers. Delta plain is fading into the rolling foothills that reach dry arms to drink from star light. I am noticing a pinkish glow to the starboard side of the music highway, flowing in gentle undulations. Scores of notes rise in a passionate agony because a lovely lesbian can't take the fucking government that disintigrates economy like bleu cheese. I want to pull off the thoroughfare of living because I have a headache of sinus and anger and I want to think about it and take a still nature photograph. Exxon spilled a few million gallons of oil on seabirds and fish and pretended that it never happened. The restroom is exactly what you expect at a gas station and smells of cancer stick fumes and stale urine, the woman who sells banana-flavoured Laffy Taffy at the glass counter fires back at the regular unshaven clients. A piece of shattered glass is lodged in my left eye and another in my left aorta because little Bro and Mother were ploughed in the side by a Ph.D. bastard. She's been crying and Bro had on a neck brace, the Volvo is dying in a tow lot. Piles of broken crystal fell onto them when beams of solid steel bent inward and the door of the glove compartment snapped. The phone told me today that she had a dream where Apologetic Boy and a builder loved each other and twisted lips into sneers at Little Miss Rent and Detective Photographer tapped her shoulder and it's a prophecy I don't believe in because I'm washing away my palm's lifeline and I like Little Miss anyhow. Okay, humans, I am off to eat rice. I hope to visit Java Cabana tonight for possibly the last open mic night before school, but if no one also drops by, I shan't. Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 28,September,2003 | What in hell's name is this? urlLink Explain this! I am irate. This is utterly an outrage. Brock's blog is an excellent location, perhaps one of my favorite blogs in the whole network of weblogging. Fools, this is the kingdom of art and elegant cheeses! Bah. This is entirely too disgusting. You will have a good day. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 26,September,2003 | Feeling bloody depressed about now. Don't know why. I really think that I may have some chemical imbalance, because this feeling of general worthlessness occurs far too often for my liking. No, I wouldn't say worthlessness. Just...nonexistence almost. Like nothing means anything. Well, perhaps, a bit of worthlessness; I've been feeling lately that I really am of no value to anyone. What are my purposes? Learn language and play music. Like that ever helped anyone. Shit. Maybe I am just crazy. I feel like screaming. But I can't. Nowhere to scream. Perhaps I take things far too seriously. I don't know, a friend of mine was angered at me today - pretending, I know, she was simply imitating anger. But maybe I unconsciously took it as a reality. Or maybe it is just watching those sad type movies, like Lord of the Rings (I know...initially, what is it but a bunch of fat hobbits? But the concept is rather upsetting if you truly grasp it). Perhaps that rubs off. What in hell is wrong with me? I don't think I have mood shifts. A whole bunch of depression lately has been crowding in. I need to talk to someone. I can't sleep now because of too many dreams. Remember that late post about no dreams at all? I wake up dead-tired because my brain has been dreaming all night. So maybe I am just tired. Or stressed. No, scratch that, I haven't had any work this week at the educational prison. Bah. Human nature sucks. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 25,September,2003 | Okay, chaps, methinks that last night's post deserves some explanation. As you may have read in comments before, Rachel has visited my site (how in the world she got the URl, I have no idea), and, consequently, I have been to her site, and, thus, I am now a member of that community. There really is no other reason. Just trying to distribute crazed ideas like a plasmodial slime mold. Love that imagery , don't you? Just returned from a talk about witchcraft at the Universitry of Memphis. Rather interesting, I daresay. There was a short professor who was brilliantly funny, and everyone loved listening to him speak about witchcraft and wizardry in Europe between 1450-1750 (C.E.) because he made it so humorous. Let's go drink some hallucinogen potion. Right now. Get your vacuum cleaners, becuase brooms are so out of date these days. I died in English today. Speaking about...what was it?...Cystic Fibrosis, I think. Yep, that essay utterly destroyed my body, mind, and soul. We have a new DOY member! Bethany Chang from Nashville, a fellow of mine from the days of Mr. Stress-Syndrom Jackson, joins us with her writings and poetry. See her now, fools! urlLink DOY . Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 24,September,2003 | I have another site too! urlLink Quizzical Maelstrom |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 23,September,2003 | Oh this controls my existence. Small-price spacecraft, yo. The original idea of a space elevator is more than a century old. In 1895, Konstantin E. Tsiolkovsky, a Russian visionary who devised workable ideas for rocket propulsion and space travel decades before others, proposed a tower thousands of miles high attached to a 'celestial castle' in orbit around Earth, with the centrifugal force of the orbiting castle holding up the tower. (Imagine swinging a rope with a rock tied to the end of it.) But the idea was fundamentally impossible to build. Steel, then the strongest material known, was too heavy and not strong enough to support that weight. The discovery in 1991 of nanotubes, cylindrical molecules of carbon with many times the strength of steel, turned the idea from a fantastical impossibility to an intriguing possibility that could be realized in as little as a decade or two. Centrifugal force, you see. The end of it would swing outward, defying the earth's gravitational pull. Walk along a few carbon sidewalks and get to the moon. urlLink Here 's a bit more, future astronauts. Can you say 'obsolete rocket'? Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 21,September,2003 | Okay, chaps, several fellows of mine that you might not know have been commenting lately. So here they are: Miss Becky - I have introduced her before. Just to remind you that Miss Becky goes to school at White Station Prison; she shares my pre-Calculus class, and has several of the same teachers I have. Her blog is at my right, urlLink Broken Shadows . Just as a little reminder. She needs visitors. Miss Heather - a fellow I met through Elise. Heather is a face that torments me constantly because I swear I have seen her before, but I just can't place her. Creepy stuff. She is a very lovely young lady, and I appreciate her muy much. And now, urlLink Ladies and Gentlemen, Heather! . Miss Rachel - she dropped by earlier to comment and I never credited her for that. Rachel also joins me at White Station Prison; she is in the AP Biology class and the pre-Calculus class, and also has several of the same teachers I have. You might have heard her name on Brock's blog. She posts her urlLink Ramblings of a Very Lost Being . Miss Katherine - I cannot provide Katherine's blog because, as far as I know, she doesn't have one. But Katherine also goes to the same hell I go to, and I know that she is a very pleasant person to be around. And she plays drums! Happiness. She is in the same 'group', if you will, of rebellious teenagers that Brock, Alanna, and sir Kevin are a part of (you don't know Kevin. I don't know him well either. But he is also a nice fellow). And now, to other subject matter... Which doesn't really exist. It rains right now. Like it would in Scotland. Okay, I know that is getting repetitive, but I hate being in the warm, sunny South. I want dark, rainy Ireland. Or Scotland. And Katherine's mom teaches Gaelic! Very very positive. Maybe I can strike a deal with her. Puirt-a-Beul. I actually remembered a dream last night for the first time in several months! It was wonderful, knowing that I actually dream (I think that Brock arranged it with the cosmos). And it was such a lovely dream too, but I won't go into detail, lest you be angered with my subconscious. But it really was a lovely dream, and a wonderful one to remember. I must go kill myself with Biology. Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 20,September,2003 | I have just been to the Celtic heaven and returned to tell the mortals about it. urlLink The Dòchas! (Pronounced Da-zchas). Five lovely ladies from about Scotland. Five damn talented ladies I should like to say. As in each girl could play three different instruments, in addition to vocal talents. I personally enjoyed the lead singer (Julie M Fowlis) and the fiddler (Jenna Reid). God, why couldn't I marry all five of them and accompany them back to Scotland? I am American capitalist pig. I want to be Irish fluter/bagpiper Gaelic-linguist. Curse that the fates be so cruel! Speaking of which... I have decided to become, in addition to a microbiologist, a linguist (fluent in French, Spanish, Gaelic, and a variety of other instruments) and a musician (piano, bagpipes, fiddle). Time it seems might prevent this before college, but oh well. Listening to a divine song by the Dòchas: Waulking Song. I will track down Julie Fowlis just to hear this. I am babbling, am I not? Go to urlLink The Dòchas , you poor soul who has not heard Celtic jigs and melodies. I will create a time rift that allows me to return to the past and relocate my parents to Ireland for my birth. Then I will be brought up speaking Celtic and playing fiddle. And I will be content all my existence. Hopefully. (Like that will happen. I am damned as a capitalist pig.) Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 18,September,2003 | Okay, allow me to rant for a moment on a subject I was speaking to Alanna about. Here's the thing: I know we're teenagers. I know where and when we are in our lifecycles; we are at that unfortunate conjunction between kiddie-hood and adult, a point at which our superiors demand responsibility and respect and understanding. And we are supposed to become 'adults' ourselves. But let me propose this question. How are we to make time for the adult's activities of self-development when, as it is, we are buried in school and, if that isn't enough, we have our own developing lifestlyes, thank you very much. We are confused because, here, we are pressured to be the best, because we are aging, and look at your older sibling who was so perfect! (Ask Elise). On the other hand, we have those people - many of the same people who say that we should be responsible - who look at us [teenagers] like scumbags, beating us down because, hey, we're not even adults yet. Getting the dramatic contradiction? This means that teenagers sometimes just can't do everything that is expected of them, especially when their environment is bearing down on their shoulders with raised hackles. I have a younger sibling (thank you very much), and I cannot take care of him every second of his/my existence. Why am I expected to 'play fair' and 'be nice' and 'treat him like an equal' when he is doing his best to make me mule-kick him? Unfair circumstances can revolve both ways, remember that. Another thing. Not all teenagers are alike. We are not all shoplifting, pill-popping, weed-smoking, sex-driven beasts. Albeit, there are some of those base creatures crawling the earth's surface without right. Those are some of the people you can find in the penitentiary or on the streets, robbing old ladies and raping young ladies and killing ladies and men and laughing about it. But teenagers are not all the same. If we were, - face it - the population of teenagers would be much more organized, much more determined, and much more violent towards its greatest threat (three guesses who I am talking about and the last two don't count). Not all of us hide in the school bathroom rolling illegal drugs during the lunch period. Not all of us carry knives in our side pockets with a lonely person's name etched onto the blade. Not all of us fuck like rabbits and have children before age thirteen. No, some of us do have morals, believe it or not. In fact, some of us actually do value thinking and education over sex, drugs, and rock-'n-roll (or, in modern vernacular, fucking, stoning, and rapping). Here's your handy translation guide for this (with respects to Alanna). Co-gender sleepovers are not for all-night copulation. When we look at an item in a store, we are not stealing it. Parties don't always have booze. As it is now, our only accepted way of self-expression seems to be rebellion, which isn't that widely appreciated. But what can we do when we are expected to be of a certain color skin and a certain religion with certain hobbies and ethics? Some adults want a certain sexual preference, damn! I don't care, I am white, I am Unitarian, I am straight but not narrow. New minority formation here - generalization is making discrimination. Okay, rant ended. Cheers, chaps. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 18,September,2003 | Ohh snap! Blue Man Group : The Complex Rock Tour Alltel Arena North Little Rock, AR Thu, 11/20/03 Blue Man Group shapes my consciousness (except the strobes - I can't take strobes). But - damnit! - that is a school night! Maybe I shall talk to my parents about that. Work something out. I must see the blue. Cheers chaps. Got yoga? |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 17,September,2003 | I am Vampire Kanathen (no, this has no hidden meaning. This is spontaneous) There was a collective giggle at my presentation today cocnerning John Calvin and the Puritans. I feared that the giggle resulted from my ignorance or something of that nature, but Lauren Henry and Brock ( urlLink Bat Lord ) assured me that it resulted from my packing loads of information into a few minutes at very high speeds. My tongue is sore. And forgive me for all the lord/vampire/supernatural shit. I am feeling like that. I think I shall make a list of what everyone would be if they were some supernatural being. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 14,September,2003 | Ben Folds is some form or a demi-god. He shapes my very existence with his piano playing, then he throws a stool at the piano and how in hell can he shift his voice so much? A demi-god, yes, like ani difranco. Okay, I am seriously worried about my current mental state, for it seems that every one has been able to remember dreams of late and, I swear, I have not dreamed (or remembered dreaming) for something akin to several months. In fact, I have a sparse population of dreams in general. Can someone suggest for me something like tai-chi or a related psychological breathe-through-your-elbow-Eastern-meditation-twist-your-right-foot-around-your-neck-twice activity that will spark REM activity? Because I feel like a dry well, with the capacity but not the reality. Caramel caribou is good. And no, I am not eating a sweetened animal. It's ice cream damnit. I should like to abuptly state that Brock posted an utterly lovely poem tonight. Don't ask why, maybe it's the insight into sexuality or the fluid sturcture or just the imagery. But it clicks. urlLink A very lovely poem . Have an evening, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 12,September,2003 | Suffering in another mood shift...depression...yada yada... Ready to spit some minimal pH poison at something. I am recovering from a sickness that resricts me from any activities tonight (grumble). Planned to see all the chaps today. And I need to profusely apologize to those who read my blog for lack of postage lately, I have been engulfed in work and, frankly, can't get any poetic inspiration. Tonight's meal was honey mustard chicken, mashed garlic potatoes, and french bread. My compliments to the cook. Wait, I was the cook! *Bwahahahahaha* Sorry. Though I have not written of late, I did read a rather hysterical poem somewhere. I shall post it now: EVIL! Yaaaaa Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Doesn't that soothe your soul? And so eloquent too! I think I'll engage in a gay marriage as soon as possible to piss off the government as well as the multiple religious groups that say no to homosexuals because 'homosexuals are all sinners' (fuck that). In fact, according to President Bush, 'we are all sinners'. (He says, damn the separation of church and state, and I say, damn him). Some organizations can sink sooo deep in their religious self-righteousness (*cough cough ANAL-RETENTIVE *). Don't believe me? urlLink Glories of a one sided mindset . Cheers, mortals. And I am perfectly aware that this entire post is quite random. My apologies. That shows you what inhaling dijon mustard fumes can do to your brain, can it not? |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 10,September,2003 | DOY IS BACK ONLINE! DOY IS BACK ONLINE! But not at the normal place, nor at the not so normal blog place. In fact, the new location for it is somewhere totally different. Thanks to good sir Kevin who is willing to host us. Visit urlLink The New and Improved Dream of You, now in technicolor! Becky's commenting system is also working. Good positive happy optimistic glad enlightening buoyant etc... School is hell as usual. My essays are dying at an exponential rate. And the apocalypse is about to come, and hell will freeze over. All thanks to the combination of biology essays on the plasma membrane, calculus tests on graph reflection, economics posters concerning supply and demand, and english assignments on John Calvin and the Puritans. Dying softly now. Good day, mortals. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 09,September,2003 | Damn. I died in pre-Calculus today. Which is absolute hell for me, because I usually do rather well in mathematics. I thought I was prepared for this test. But we can make it up, fortunately. My AP English teacher does not hate my soul to the extent I though she did. She was very kind telling me that my writing blows you-know-what-anatomical-portion-of-the-male-body and that I ramble and that I try to sound like a pretentious British BBC wannabe. But she was kind about it. Bombastic, 'tis indeed. But the day I write a proper passable essay will be the day hell freezes over. Speaking of which, David Mann sent this to me. Following is an actual exam question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid term. The answer by one male student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well. Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law, (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed or some variant.) One student, however, wrote the following: 'First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave.Therefore; no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, lets look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that most souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year, '...that it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you.', and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having that event take place, then, #2 cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and will not freeze.' The student received the only 'A' given. Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 06,September,2003 | My cell phone message gives the impression that I am about to eat the caller and I feel brain-dead from the PSAT workshop where my mind broke on the last test section and Elise is the messenger who bespoke of Haemon's final look toward Antigone and rumors fly like bats and autumn is tumbling inward and why in hell am I writing this? |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 05,September,2003 | Okay, someone give me the address to Chris Chiego's blog/website/whatever 'tis. Because there are some ugly rumors floating around about my statements on his commenting system and I need to clear this nasty matter up before a random person jumps at my throat. I did not write such, whatever was written that apparently many people have read, and I need to find the damn network to see who did such, and who is pinning one-half of the blame on me. Fucking assholes. Commenting is for creative criticism, not for slander and crass insults. Screw you if you did such. Morons. My apologies, Chris, for whoever did that. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 02,September,2003 | Okay, chaps, good afternoon, how are you and all that formal stuff. I am sorry about the absence I have been observing for a time. Allow me to explain: I die slowly in the school environment. That is all that is to it. My English teacher hates my essays; she wants to kill them, and I don't think she approves of my liberal Unitarian poetic ass. Inversely, my pre-Calculus teacher seems to really appreciate my grades; she is very conversational with me. And AP Biology is fun. Today we played with sulfuric acid and my skin is stained with potassium permanganese! Fun! I am soon to be off to watch Mademoiselle Elise audition at MUS. Happiness, I daresay. Here is a piece I wrote a time ago, trying to break from the stream of conscious thought style I had adopted. I have been reluctant to post it due to references, but I was convinced in any case. Hallway My circle of hands I’ve been noticing of late that Toes have been tripping into a little group This little group Where everyone can sing and dance And I can’t But I can poetize and my fingers Dance like their feet across the ivory I’ve fallen out, from a cloud Where my own sun set Daily Don’t get me wrong, I am not an angel And I like the rain when it falls The rain took me with it, down to The earth’s surface Splashed The sisters, like goddesses, giggle Smile and one is always holding her Mechanical hand – she has three hands – She knows my computer, healed it Lana-lana-bo-bana The other had something in her Burst Random letter, random line She couldn’t listen to the music Music – noise with a wavelength Curly hair A small smile and nails strum the Strings of a guitar She’ll make a moon disc soon Give it to the Greek boy Greek beauty Poised like a mercury Singing in that fantastic voice of his I want to be his mind It can run faster than his hand paints Paints pictures Like a photograph – click That she takes in a grassy field Run To see her after class Look in bespectacled eyes Such a lovely occurrence to say Good afternoon But I can’t, not to that other girl I say good morning She is panicking over the history Poet singer in a play I drive early to sit in her car Breathe her exhalation And I want to hold her hands Duck-yellow watercolor tips Kiss her cheek Spin her around and Tear The skin off her shoulder blades To get far enough inside – Feel the heart? – And watch As fledgling angel wings unfold. Have a nice day. :-) Even though with White Station (which failed the fucking government education testing) I can never have a nice day. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 02,September,2003 | Little Timmy was a chemist Little Timmy is no more For what he thought was H20 Was H2-SO4! Okay, I profusely apologize for that. By the way, in case you are utterly lost, H2-SO4 is sulfuric acid. Have fun with the imagery! |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 02,September,2003 | Good day, mortals. I have changed my blog name to Alternate Thoughts, and my new address is shifting-plane.blogspot.com. I realize that this information is entirely pointless, seeing that those who are here now will see the title and the URL and figure it out, and those seeking the new location will be utterly lost. But I will try to rectify that. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 30,October,2003 | Listen, English gang. This includes Elise, Alanna, Brock, Katherine D., Laylee, Jenny, Margaret, whoever else wants to join...We are going to have a party in the library this Sunday before all of us die in a flowery shine of sparks under the grinding heel of Wexler. I am collaborating as to time and whatnot (keep in mind that we will likely be on the sociology floor of the main/central library, with literatures and religions). This needs to happen people, lest we are smited by malicious deadlines due to the evil-infused bloody 50 flash note cards. And god knows I need some happy drugs in the form of social interaction this weekend. So says my therapist. Let the slackers and procrastinators of the world unite! |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 28,October,2003 | Elise is fucking BEAUTIFUL because she called me just in time to tune into pbs to watch THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING oh shit oh shit this is alllll divine because the universe has more than four four four bloody dimensions and the universe is made up of energy e- strings pulsing and vibrating and moving within the shape of the 6 dimensions that make up the space around it and that makes up every fucking thing in the universe! x 10 to the 200! Goddamnit this is god. Fucking christ I swear I could not breathe normally, I started to hyperventilate while watching it, because it is god god god and I am dying from hyperventilation! @^&!(©?¬?ƒ7&85 There goes my soul. Elise, did I tell you that you are fucking beautiful? Only five times? That's right. I called Jack O'Connor to tell him but he had already called Jingbo to tell him and so thus I called David to make him watch it because this thing is holy. Go now damnit before I die! urlLink Fucking hell this is the ethereal shit! . Forgive me as I strangle myself in ecstasy. Calming down now...I breached a new limit. I learned the one hundredth digit of pi today! ( ). Okay, I can almost hear your excitement. Contain yourself. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 27,October,2003 | Haha this is bloody beautiful. urlLink Evening, chaps. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 26,October,2003 | Have no idea where this came from. I know it is not poetry. Simply a conscious stream. And I played with the color. Honeybee Thoughts of a clean frozen river of metal cutting a path Directly into my skin are haunting my mind again Like some recurrent nightmare from hell That doesn’t want to see its one potential convert Denying its existence, and making it blow away With a sigh, with the wind like some malodor hanging In the slipstream of air as it rushes by my eyes and ears Smelling again of blood , more blood , the sap That doesn’t taste so sweet in my mouth, yet somehow I can lick the red drop off my finger and not recoil In the disgust that I should be exhibiting toward That vampire, that leech hiding and feeding off the Benevolent ghosts that seem to shake, shiver, quake When I wake in the middle of the night to a phantom alarm A mystical tune that was never really there to begin with And realize that it sounds like a horrid clash of memories Subconsciously reliving the very fluctuation of that voice As it slips past me in honeyed words that hide the spark The subtle spark of awakening, no one has yet found But here I am, trying to wake up from a netherworld That has me on the rack each time I think clearly Eating at the back of my brain, and moving inwards And then it will turn downwards, and chew through My spinal column, and into each organ that creates What I thought to be me, for a long time Some cancer that can’t be diagnosed at any hospital People hate it, and for a damn good reason Because it enervates one, and the afflicted ends up Suffering convulsions by the bathroom sink, and Frantically rubbing his arms to get the circulation To move again, to slice through the debilitating cold Because the thermometer is dropping too fast The antithesis of a fever, caused by realization That he is alone, he is different, because only he Will drag the smooth edge of a dagger across his skin And only he will consciously try to escape a crowd And only he crawls into a honeycomb of self-spun Delusions of depression and isolation As a number of other recluses scuttle into the honeycomb To be with him, because they too fear the norm And amongst the aliens, I am blinded in cold flashes Waiting for your voice to arrest my fingers Your lips to melt the ice that forms about my eyes I sink into a sleep, with the smooth skin of your hands Even if they are ethereal, and even if just the lull in dreams Resting on my shoulders, passing into my bloodstream The miniscule particles that ward off the virus infecting my Sanity. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 25,October,2003 | I apologize for being an ass. Forgive me, for insulting whoever has been insulted by my blank mind and my ignorance and my comments that turn out to be crude and insensitive. Especially to thee, who I insulted this morning. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 24,October,2003 | Haha Alanna is a fucking genius computer guru. Note the extreme changes I have made to my blog, including structure, color, etc. This is Alanna's work. The links and colors and reactions of links and placement and whatnot are controlled by her through my pitiful, humble computer. Let us return to smiting; I shall smite thee if you do not admit her awesome dynamic. (However, I got one thing by myself. The commenting system! Bwahaha) Went to an English pub tonight. I ate fish n' chips (spelled with a n', damnit) with malt vinegar. Then I suffered some type of convulsion when I realized I was eating my fish n' chips (fries) off a newspaper. Which directly mimics Angela's Ashes . I am an Englishman-not-really-while-damning-my-luck-to-be-American. But it was fun in any case. Elise is performing the second Antigone of three tonight. I am missing her online now. I wish for her to be online for no good reason. I am whiny and whimsical. What a pity. ('That pale-faced man over there...' 'That's not a boy! That's a girl!' Elise dressed in blood and shadow for bad news). 'tis all, mortals. Cheers. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 22,October,2003 | Katherine D. is wonderful, I have decided, despite the fact that I have actually known her for an extremely short time, i.e., the beginning of the year. You can find her blog to the right; 'tis the intellectual party link. Which actually leads to 'Party in the Library'. I shortened it to fit over there. My apologies, Miss Katherine, if thou art offended; tell me and I shall change it. Another thing. Fuck you, Anonymous, whoever you are, who posts asinine and insensitive comments on other people's blogs. That is all. Have a lovely evening. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 20,October,2003 | I have firmly made up my mind to attend the opening night of Antigone. Admittably, that was spontaneous and random, but it is rather satisfying to decide, to mandate myself to go to MUS on Thursday. I have been harassed by a few of the theater kids who are performing there. *cough cough Elise and Heather* I simply kid thee ladies, worry not. But both shall be pleased to know that I will be coming. To watch it. All of it. Nya. I feel guilty. Elise has a sore throat, even as she is rehearsing tonight. Damn my curfew and homework load, for I cannot bring her a pint of ice cream to sooth her throat. Damn. Elise lent me the Ben Folds Five (Live) CD for burning a quasi-bootleg copy that isn't really quasi-bootleg illegal because we bought it together. This makes me happy. Listening to: One Down (by Ben Folds - what did you expect?) I don't know what occurred this morn, but I suddenly became drastically physically self-conscious. For example: I began to loathe my haircut for no good reason. Then I got worried about the fat distribution on my arms and neck. Then I panicked like hell. In homeroom, which is not the best of times to panic. But I restrained it. Another reason that I am a perfect application for being fucked-up. Before I eradicate it from my memory, I was Johannes Kepler today in pre-Calculus. That's okay if you have no bloody idea who he is. But he proposed the three theories of helicentricity building on the Copernican theory, which Newton eventually used in his principles, dealing with the orbits of planets, in which the orbit will be an ellipse (equation x-squared/a-squared + y-squared/b-squared = 1) with a and b the distance from the center of the orbital pattern to the closest and farthest point on the ellipse, and the sun as a focus , meaning that a line drawn from the center from the focus sun to the variable planet will cover the same area in a set amount of time, denoting that the planet will gain speed as it nears the focus , and that the sidereal period T squared will be proportional to the semimajor axis R (in astronomical units, naturally) cubed, so that an equation will be T sub-a squared / T sub-b squared = R sub-a cubed / R sub-b cubed, and the equation for a single planet will thus be reduced to T=kR to the 3/2, and in such, the period of Mercury, roughly .24 of a year (earth year, of course) squared, will be .06, set over the sidereal period of earth, squared, approximately 1.000, and this ratio will be equivalent to the semi-major axis of Mercury cubed (.39 to the third will equal .06) set, again, over the semi-major axis of earth cubed, and as this quantity will be the one astronomical unit from earth to the sun cubed, it will equal 1.000, so, thus, .06/1.000 (this is T)=.06/1000 (this is R), and .39 (semimajor axis) to the 3/2, quantity times the constant k , which equals 1, will come out to .24, which is the sidereal period. Did you catch all that? Good. I demonstrated this to the calss as Kepler. Much fun. Lemonade is good. Homework is bad. Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 18,October,2003 | There is some fucked-up connection between my brain and baby-sitting, or late night, or driving alone in the darkenss, or something to that nature. I was paid an exorbitant tip for my duties, yet I am not overjoyed at that. I enjoyed the PSAT, but that seems to have no bearing. So here I am at the computer, typing pointless words for no goddamn good reason, staring at the screen, sneezing like hell (due to changing pressure systems), and feeling thoroughly depressed. I have no idea why I am typing this at the moment. It really has no purpose. Maybe it's the layers of work I have, or some deadline that is bearing over me. But it just occurs spontaneously, even in the best of conditions. Depression is the payment for thinking, it seems. Ah, this is all shit. I am angsty. Forgive me for this post. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 16,October,2003 | Evil evil PSAT took up Saturday morning...damn that thing. But I think/hope I did well on it. Bloody test. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 16,October,2003 | Braindead, cranial damage, skull hemorrhoid, whatever. Pre-Calculus test was actually somewhat fun, but the AP Bio test (open book) was rather difficult, and the AP English Hemingway test was hell, despite who may argue it. Three tests, in total. But they are gone, and my economics report is finished, and I am free (except for the PSAT, which will destroy my mind utterly). My grandparents have a new rat dog. They want me to come over and name him/her/it. At Rhodes, I wrote this really creepy piece of poetry, becuase it has a lot to do with suicide, and I found myself rather afraid as I realized I wondered about how much a slit wrist would hurt. But here's the odd piece about it: Metal splinter My hands are dragging me into a kitchen In some unknown home I built Overnight, while I was sleeping And my mind was working furiously Eyes burning in REM chaos, again, again, Trying to wake up twice, once from the slumber Twice, from the half-reality I have Assumed to be mine, and my fingers are itching To reach for the wall near the toaster To grasp the wood of a straightedge Knife, sword, blade, keen bright metal And wondering what it feels like when blood When life drips out on the stone floor Impatiently waiting… For the wonderful, ethereal euphoria that comes When the waves smother the breath When the snow freezes the veins When the mind begins to drift Because the body has no real purpose anymore No, my wrist has no eye of blood yet I have a sliver Gone to get a bandage (it won’t stop the cut). As I said, somewhat unnerving. But I spoke to Alanna about these weird thoughts, and she reassured me that I was not insane, I was simply teen-age. Rather comforting. Full weekend of hell ahead. Cheers, mortals. |
1,429,060 | male | 17 | Student | Cancer | 15,October,2003 | New spot for DOY! We are being relocated to another URL (yo). If you wish to see the new, updated dream of you, visit urlLink this DOY right huru. Yogurt was fun. I twisted my back into a ring and stood on my shoulders and generally murdered myself. Hasta luego. |
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