Someday, I want to be artistic. I want to be interesting. I also want to be attractive. I don't particularly care about being popular with many people... I just want to be popular among a few friends. I'd like to be the type of person who needs to be there to make things feel complete. I want to be loved.
I've been told that if I were to change my appearance (ie clothes, hair, etc.), I'd find that there would be many more guys interested in dating me or whatever. As much as I want that, I don't know if I'm willing to give up what I am right now.
I can think of four boys that have really, really liked me in the past. I'm not talking about crushes where they thought I was cute or cool or whatever. These are the guys who actually got to know me, were my friends, and genuinely liked me for who I was. They may have even loved me. I don't know. Out of those guys, I only liked two back. One of them was my first boyfriend. I was about 10, I think. The second was from the same area, Wilson, but when we found out that we liked one another, I had already moved out here, so nothing materialized.
Of course, I had countless other crushes and boyfriends and admirers... But those are just the four boys that really stand out.
Last night, I realized something. Over the years, I have done a very good job of refining my taste in young men. There are some guys who may have liked me a long time ago that I wouldn't consider liking then, and would definitely think twice about now. It's interesting how people change.
There have been people who have said that I cannot find a boy worth liking who likes me back here because I live in a wasteland. I wonder if this is true. I wonder if things would be different if I lived in Wilson still. Or Louisville, KY. Or New York City. Or Chicago, IL. Or Seattle, WA. Would anything be different? Would I be different?
I think that I have changed in a bad way too. My personality used to be much stronger. I think it's because I had more self-esteem and confidence. Little events in a person's life can change a lot about that person, and they can change a lot about that person's future.
I hate impersonal relationships. They seem so pointless. I hate going to the movies with people every time we hang out, not because I don't like going to the movies, but because I want to talk with them and get to know them better. I suppose that sounds kind of like most boys' worst nightmare for a girlfriend... Someone who wants to talk all the time and get to know them... I don't know. I just don't want shallow relationships!
I want to find someone who really wants to get to know me. I want someone to get to know me. I want someone to understand who I really am and where I'm really coming from. I'd also like to find someone who appreciates me and my preferences.
I sure hope God is really looking out for me along the lines of relationships.
Don't you hate it when you find someone "perfect," but then find out that they're not, only because they don't return your affections? Yeah. It sucks.
Hm. I've been whining so much lately. How much do I really have to whine about? Not that much, I suppose. I apologize to the few of you who have had to put up with my whining. You're good friends for being there for me, though. I appreciate you so very much.
On to slight randomness.
Smells are so amazing. It's incredible how you can connect them to past experiences so easily. I'm a big fan of good smells. Especially on boys who hug me. That's beautiful. I bring this all up because the jacket that I'm wearing right now smells absolutely heavenly. A mix of my laundry detergent and softener, and my perfume, I suppose. Heavenly.
I am an only child until Saturday evening. I like it that way. I have my choice of computer or tv, and it's quiet no matter which I choose. And I don't have to take people with me everywhere that I go. And I thought I was going to get to have some time to just hang out with a friend of mine, but he ended up having other plans. In any case, I still got to be without siblings.
If it were not 1am, cool outside, and December, I'd go to the pier right now. Unfortunately, they're closed, and mom and dad would probably be rather upset if I left this late.
I'm kind of looking forward to starting work at the Water Boggan again this summer. I hated it a lot of the time while I was there, but I made good money. And I got a tan. I mostly just miss the excessive money.
Work is going well. Jessica, my manager, loves me and is keeping me beyond just the seasonal employee time. I'm only getting in between 5 and 9 hours a week at minimum wage, but it's better than nothing. And I'm not doing anything that I hate. I'm afraid I'll just need to be looking for another job to have along with this one. Especially being homeschooled again for this next semester. I don't know if I'll be able to tolerate all of this time at home.
Hey, um, if any of you ghost people who read this without me being aware of it would like to comment sometime, I'd adore you forever. I just want some comments. I want to know you exist and read my words.
I WANT TO BE SPECIAL!
I'd also like to find my talent. I have to be talented at something. Sure, I'm good at a few things, but I want to find something that I'm exceptionally good at. *shrug*
I'm trying to think of anything else that I can say to let you get a glimpse of my soul without me ending up whining or gushing... I'm quite the emo kid. Hate them, if you'd like, but they do exist, and they are emotional, and I'm one of them.
In my life, I've never wanted to be the girl who has a million friends, admirers, and fans. I've always just wanted a small group of friends who like to be around me. Right now, there is only one person who has been hanging out with me a lot, and he's been disappointing me severely a lot. It's really sad. I love him dearly, but it's just really hurting my heart. At first, I felt accepted and loved, but now I'm feeling like that side order of cole slaw that you feel obligated to eat and enjoy just because it's there and it's tangy.
Damn the shallow people!
I want one person to love me. I cannot even begin to think about how happy I'll be when I find him.
I'll stop before I start.
Since you've read this, you're officially awesome. Thank you. I love you. Goodnight.
December 31, 2004
December 30, 2004
My Sweet Fracture
Could you tell me the next time that you're choking?
I'll run right over
to shove some dirt right down your throat
It's nothing I have against you
You're just a creep and
you can't remember the last five years
What's a bond if it dissolves in water?
I took a piss that lasted longer
than you and your manipulations
I called my mom last night
She said, "Sweetie, you don't need someone
who's more fleeting than fall."
Don't you love those leaves?
Don't you wish the orange stayed forever
And crickets sang in the night all through winter?
And I thought, slow down
Think of all the time this jerk
has fucked you up and left you down
And hey, I choose my company
by the beating of their hearts
Not the swelling of their heads
Don't you love those leaves?
Don't you wish the orange stayed forever
And crickets sang in the night all through winter?
Besides, I'd rather forget the days we spent
trying to stay afloat in shallow water.
A regular update coming eventually, I'd assume.
I'll run right over
to shove some dirt right down your throat
It's nothing I have against you
You're just a creep and
you can't remember the last five years
What's a bond if it dissolves in water?
I took a piss that lasted longer
than you and your manipulations
I called my mom last night
She said, "Sweetie, you don't need someone
who's more fleeting than fall."
Don't you love those leaves?
Don't you wish the orange stayed forever
And crickets sang in the night all through winter?
And I thought, slow down
Think of all the time this jerk
has fucked you up and left you down
And hey, I choose my company
by the beating of their hearts
Not the swelling of their heads
Don't you love those leaves?
Don't you wish the orange stayed forever
And crickets sang in the night all through winter?
Besides, I'd rather forget the days we spent
trying to stay afloat in shallow water.
A regular update coming eventually, I'd assume.
December 29, 2004
December 26, 2004
You Cross Your Heart And Hope To Die
I hate this. :( I get crushes easily, but I don't really fall in like very easily at all. Damnit! I don't know why... But my heart is hurting worse than usual with this one... :*( Maybe it's because I thought I had hope.
Oh man.
It's, oh, so quiet
It's, oh, so still
You're all alone
And so peaceful until...
You fall in love
Zing boom
The sky above
Zing boom
Is caving in
Wow bam
You've never been so nuts about a guy
You wanna laugh you wanna cry
You cross your heart and hope to die
'Til it's over and then
It's nice and quiet
But soon again
Starts another big riot
You blow a fuse
Zing boom
The devil cuts loose
Zing boom
So what's the use
Wow bam
Of falling in love
It's, oh, so quiet
It's, oh, so still
You're all alone
And so peaceful until...
You ring the bell
Bim bam
You shout and you yell
Hi ho ho
You broke the spell
Gee, this is swell you almost have a fit
This guy is 'gorge' and I got hit
There's no mistake this is it
'Til it's over and then
It's nice and quiet
But soon again
Starts another big riot
You blow a fuse
Zing boom
The devil cuts loose
Zing boom
What's the use
Wow bam
Of falling in love
The sky caves in
The devil cuts loose
You blow blow blow blow your fuse
When you've fallen in love
Ssshhhhh...
December 25, 2004
December 23, 2004
About A Boy
Morgan's heart isn't doing very well lately. It's been suffering rather silently for the past year and a half or so, but today gave it a little jolt which caused that sharp pain to come back. Like I said, it had been silent for a while, making friends and being nice, but a few weeks ago, it made a big mistake. It became attached to a young man. Unfortunately, Morgan didn't do anything to fix this little crush, and it grew into something slightly larger. Now, the heart is in critical condition, and is due to be receiving some sort of tear treatment within the next hour or so.
I'm not all for this. It just gives you an idea of a bit of pain... I especially love the fifth and sixth lines.
Biting keeps your words at bay
Tending to the sores that stay
Happiness is just a gash away
When I open a familiar scar
Pain goes shooting like a star
Comfort hasn't failed to follow so far...
And you might say it's self-indulgent
You might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, it's more productive
Than if I were to be healthy
And pens and penknives take the blame
Crane my neck and scratch my name
But the ugly marks
Are worth the momentary gain...
When I jab a sharpened object in
Choirs of angels seem to sing
Hymns of hate in memorandum
And you might say it's self-indulgent
And you might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, it's more productive
Than if I were to be happy
And sappy songs about sex and cheating
Bland accounts of two lovers meeting
Make me want to give mankind a beating
And you might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, I'd kick the bucket
Sixty times before I'd kick the habit
And as the skin rips off I cherish the revolting thought
That even if I quit
There's not a chance in hell I'd stop
And anyone can see the signs
Mittens in the summertime
Thank you for your pity, you are too kind
And you might say it's self-inflicted
But, you see, that's contradictive
Why on earth would anyone practice self-destruction?
And pain opinions are sitcom feeding
They don't know that their minds are teething
Makes me want to give mankind a beating
I've tried bandages and sinking
I've tried gloves and even thinking
I've tried vaseline
I've tried everything
And no-one cares if your back is bleeding
They're concerned with their hair receding
Looking back it was all maltreating
Every thought that occurred misleading
Makes me want to give myself a beating...
I'm not all for this. It just gives you an idea of a bit of pain... I especially love the fifth and sixth lines.
Biting keeps your words at bay
Tending to the sores that stay
Happiness is just a gash away
When I open a familiar scar
Pain goes shooting like a star
Comfort hasn't failed to follow so far...
And you might say it's self-indulgent
You might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, it's more productive
Than if I were to be healthy
And pens and penknives take the blame
Crane my neck and scratch my name
But the ugly marks
Are worth the momentary gain...
When I jab a sharpened object in
Choirs of angels seem to sing
Hymns of hate in memorandum
And you might say it's self-indulgent
And you might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, it's more productive
Than if I were to be happy
And sappy songs about sex and cheating
Bland accounts of two lovers meeting
Make me want to give mankind a beating
And you might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, I'd kick the bucket
Sixty times before I'd kick the habit
And as the skin rips off I cherish the revolting thought
That even if I quit
There's not a chance in hell I'd stop
And anyone can see the signs
Mittens in the summertime
Thank you for your pity, you are too kind
And you might say it's self-inflicted
But, you see, that's contradictive
Why on earth would anyone practice self-destruction?
And pain opinions are sitcom feeding
They don't know that their minds are teething
Makes me want to give mankind a beating
I've tried bandages and sinking
I've tried gloves and even thinking
I've tried vaseline
I've tried everything
And no-one cares if your back is bleeding
They're concerned with their hair receding
Looking back it was all maltreating
Every thought that occurred misleading
Makes me want to give myself a beating...
December 21, 2004
December 19, 2004
Chris Made A Funny
"When I was a little kid, I loved playing with Barbies. Yeah. At first, my mom thought I was gay, but later she realized that I was just a slut. Yeah, I've always loved women... A lot."
Chris is a cool kid.
Chris is a cool kid.
December 15, 2004
Better When It Rains
Do you ever want to just kick your own ass? "You stupid, fucking idiot! What the hell is your problem?! Why aren't you going to do anything?! How the hell can you be so damn stupid?! You deserve to die."
Sometimes I wish I could just leave. Death is slightly too permanent for my taste, at the moment. I'm sure you're all terribly relieved to hear that.
I hate being where I am. There's something that I really want to do, and I'm able to do it, but I'm afraid of it. Damnit. It's something that would either make me happy, or would make me sad. Right now, there's just constant turmoil. Of course the happy part would be better, but right now, even the sad part would be better than this.
I see what I want, and it's something that I've wanted for a long time... But I am just sitting here... Not doing anything... Being so freaking passive it is pathetic.
And is God going to do anything about it? I don't even know. What if this is one of those times where I'm supposed to just stay how I am and wait it out... Or... What if this is one of those times where I'm supposed to be assertive. "God helps those who help themselves." Which is it? Which do I choose? Everything I see has been pointed towards action, but I'm so damn scared of it that I'm convincing myself that I don't even know if it's worth it.
I hate this. I wish I didn't have to worry about it, and the action would just be done for me. That's how it's supposed to be. But it just doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right. What is right anymore?
Why the hell does this always happen to me? Why can't I just be happy for once without being tortured continually? I'm never happy. Is it always me being unsatisfied with everything, or is it because I seriously just cannot get what I have been striving for? I don't freaking understand.
My situation is one where it would really be a good thing if it worked out. It's not like, "Oh man. I really want a car, but my parents won't buy it for me..." It's something that I've been looking forward to for the longest time. I've been waiting. Not so patiently, but waiting nonetheless. I haven't given up. I've kept striving for it. And what now? I see something so perfect, but it's just dangling in front of me and that's all...
I thought this was going to be a semi-calm post. Clearly, it isn't really pretending to be as calm as I had anticipated. I'm burning alive inside, but, of course, as I always do, I'm hiding it on the outside. External emotional freaking shut down. This is my only vent. Thank God not many people read this...
Anyway. Perhaps this situation will remedy itself. I don't know. If it does, believe me, you'll know.
Sometimes I wish I could just leave. Death is slightly too permanent for my taste, at the moment. I'm sure you're all terribly relieved to hear that.
I hate being where I am. There's something that I really want to do, and I'm able to do it, but I'm afraid of it. Damnit. It's something that would either make me happy, or would make me sad. Right now, there's just constant turmoil. Of course the happy part would be better, but right now, even the sad part would be better than this.
I see what I want, and it's something that I've wanted for a long time... But I am just sitting here... Not doing anything... Being so freaking passive it is pathetic.
And is God going to do anything about it? I don't even know. What if this is one of those times where I'm supposed to just stay how I am and wait it out... Or... What if this is one of those times where I'm supposed to be assertive. "God helps those who help themselves." Which is it? Which do I choose? Everything I see has been pointed towards action, but I'm so damn scared of it that I'm convincing myself that I don't even know if it's worth it.
I hate this. I wish I didn't have to worry about it, and the action would just be done for me. That's how it's supposed to be. But it just doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right. What is right anymore?
Why the hell does this always happen to me? Why can't I just be happy for once without being tortured continually? I'm never happy. Is it always me being unsatisfied with everything, or is it because I seriously just cannot get what I have been striving for? I don't freaking understand.
My situation is one where it would really be a good thing if it worked out. It's not like, "Oh man. I really want a car, but my parents won't buy it for me..." It's something that I've been looking forward to for the longest time. I've been waiting. Not so patiently, but waiting nonetheless. I haven't given up. I've kept striving for it. And what now? I see something so perfect, but it's just dangling in front of me and that's all...
I thought this was going to be a semi-calm post. Clearly, it isn't really pretending to be as calm as I had anticipated. I'm burning alive inside, but, of course, as I always do, I'm hiding it on the outside. External emotional freaking shut down. This is my only vent. Thank God not many people read this...
Anyway. Perhaps this situation will remedy itself. I don't know. If it does, believe me, you'll know.
December 13, 2004
Another Untitled Poem
Don't go...
Don't leave me wanting,
I am here,
Where the dusk falls,
Where the stars kiss the sky,
And I am waiting...
Waiting...
How many times have I written that word?
Could the ink fill this cup in front of me?
Or would it just leave a stain on my shirt?
I am waiting... I am still here.
-Brandon Carpenter
Don't leave me wanting,
I am here,
Where the dusk falls,
Where the stars kiss the sky,
And I am waiting...
Waiting...
How many times have I written that word?
Could the ink fill this cup in front of me?
Or would it just leave a stain on my shirt?
I am waiting... I am still here.
-Brandon Carpenter
December 10, 2004
GIMMEGIMMEGIMME!
Christmas Wish List
»Sexy lingerie
»Money
»The Rocky Horror Picture Show DVD
»The Rocky Horror Picture Show Soundtrack
»Blank cds
»Giftcards to places like Hot Topic, Michael's, Target, Wal-mart, etc.
»Homemade coupons for free food or thrift store stuff and a friendly "date" with you
»Some sort of odd, large bag (purse) with a long strap, or a super odd tshirt (size small in men's or large in girls')
»Brightly colored eyeshadow in weird colors (bright blue, pink, green, red, etc.)
»Some sort of collection of random stuff (makeup, candles, candy, giftcards, etc.)
»Smashing Pumpkins' Pisces Iscariot or Gish
»Super cool, artistic, dark-looking journal of sorts
»Mixed tapes and/or cds!!!
»Free vowels
Hm. Does that make it any easier? For those of you who are out of state, feel free to ask about mailing options. ;)
»
»Money
»The Rocky Horror Picture Show DVD
»The Rocky Horror Picture Show Soundtrack
»Blank cds
»Giftcards to places like Hot Topic, Michael's, Target, Wal-mart, etc.
»Homemade coupons for free food or thrift store stuff and a friendly "date" with you
»Some sort of odd, large bag (purse) with a long strap, or a super odd tshirt (size small in men's or large in girls')
»Brightly colored eyeshadow in weird colors (bright blue, pink, green, red, etc.)
»Some sort of collection of random stuff (makeup, candles, candy, giftcards, etc.)
»Smashing Pumpkins' Pisces Iscariot or Gish
»Super cool, artistic, dark-looking journal of sorts
»Mixed tapes and/or cds!!!
»Free vowels
Hm. Does that make it any easier? For those of you who are out of state, feel free to ask about mailing options. ;)
December 03, 2004
Just Give The Dog The Bone
I seriously doubt that I will ever own a pet. They are the boyfriend or husband that every girl has to have so she can feel loved and accepted. They are the child that every mother has to have to feel loved and needed. They are the cowering girlfriend or wife that every beastly, sexist male has to have to feel powerful. I don't like them.
I hate those commercials that make pets seem like children. Why would anyone buy gifts for their pets, hide them, wrap them, and then stick them under the tree for Christmas? Is the dog really going to care that its new bone just appeared out of nowhere, smelling of dust, and wrapped up in cartoon snowmen? No.
And what is the problem with making the "Christmas season" for every religion? It bothers me that people can't accept the fact that Christianity is not the only holiday celebrated, and doesn't need to be the only holiday acknowledged. I like the commercial for that cellphone that includes everyone. It's good.
I swear. This is what makes Christianity so hated. Christians are prejudiced against so many things. Of course, no one is free from some sort of prejudice, but nonetheless... Christians are supposed to be all about love. SHOW IT.
Think I'm being bitchy? Read on.
I hate it when people write such sappy, cute posts and whatnot. But, then again, I hate it when they write about how much their lives suck. You know why I dislike that sort of thing so much? Because I long to be able to do the prior, and I do far too much of the latter.
People are annoying. Fascinating, but annoying.
I feel as though I am trapping myself. I don't quite know how, but I am. I want to be so much smarter than I am. I want to do so much more than I can. I want to be someone that you are intimidated by just because they are something you're unfamiliar with.
Goths are no longer frightening. Punks aren't tough. Preps aren't as snotty. Jocks aren't as exclusive. Geeks aren't as geeky. Artists are selling out. Music makers are being overtaken by the generic. Everything is mixing together. But it's fake. It's becoming one large mass of... Of... Nothing. And I am criticized about writing about it, because I'm "trying too hard to be different." Or I'm "being too hypocritical." Screw that. I'm writing about it because I think the entire thing is stupid, and I'm disgusted to be a part of it. And I am a part of it.
But I digress.
Today, my mother received an email from her father. I haven't seen him in about 10 years. His wife, Brenda, is friends with the North Carolina State Senator Richard Burr. My grandfather wants me to be an intern for him over the summer. I'd live in D.C., which would be absolutely awesome... And I'd probably get paid for it. And live in a dorm. Everyone thinks it's a wonderful opportunity, but I'm a bit nervous about it. I don't know what I'll have to do, and I don't know I'll fit in with everyone and everything there. I'm terribly shy when it comes to being around people I don't know. Especially people who intimidate me. People who are important and/or "popular." I don't know. It'll be an experience. To be sure.
I'll have to buy new clothes and dye my hair a "natural" color. And I'll have to be all cute and feminine. *sigh* I'm especially nervous about impressing my grandfather. My mom says I'm exactly like him, which means he's critical, and he doesn't show his emotions, including love and appreciation, very well. And I believe he's rather well-to-do. Oi. At least I'll know where he's coming from. And I think I'll relate to him well enough.
That's about all that's going on, really. So. I suppose I'll close here. Thanks for reading.
I hate those commercials that make pets seem like children. Why would anyone buy gifts for their pets, hide them, wrap them, and then stick them under the tree for Christmas? Is the dog really going to care that its new bone just appeared out of nowhere, smelling of dust, and wrapped up in cartoon snowmen? No.
And what is the problem with making the "Christmas season" for every religion? It bothers me that people can't accept the fact that Christianity is not the only holiday celebrated, and doesn't need to be the only holiday acknowledged. I like the commercial for that cellphone that includes everyone. It's good.
I swear. This is what makes Christianity so hated. Christians are prejudiced against so many things. Of course, no one is free from some sort of prejudice, but nonetheless... Christians are supposed to be all about love. SHOW IT.
Think I'm being bitchy? Read on.
I hate it when people write such sappy, cute posts and whatnot. But, then again, I hate it when they write about how much their lives suck. You know why I dislike that sort of thing so much? Because I long to be able to do the prior, and I do far too much of the latter.
People are annoying. Fascinating, but annoying.
I feel as though I am trapping myself. I don't quite know how, but I am. I want to be so much smarter than I am. I want to do so much more than I can. I want to be someone that you are intimidated by just because they are something you're unfamiliar with.
Goths are no longer frightening. Punks aren't tough. Preps aren't as snotty. Jocks aren't as exclusive. Geeks aren't as geeky. Artists are selling out. Music makers are being overtaken by the generic. Everything is mixing together. But it's fake. It's becoming one large mass of... Of... Nothing. And I am criticized about writing about it, because I'm "trying too hard to be different." Or I'm "being too hypocritical." Screw that. I'm writing about it because I think the entire thing is stupid, and I'm disgusted to be a part of it. And I am a part of it.
But I digress.
Today, my mother received an email from her father. I haven't seen him in about 10 years. His wife, Brenda, is friends with the North Carolina State Senator Richard Burr. My grandfather wants me to be an intern for him over the summer. I'd live in D.C., which would be absolutely awesome... And I'd probably get paid for it. And live in a dorm. Everyone thinks it's a wonderful opportunity, but I'm a bit nervous about it. I don't know what I'll have to do, and I don't know I'll fit in with everyone and everything there. I'm terribly shy when it comes to being around people I don't know. Especially people who intimidate me. People who are important and/or "popular." I don't know. It'll be an experience. To be sure.
I'll have to buy new clothes and dye my hair a "natural" color. And I'll have to be all cute and feminine. *sigh* I'm especially nervous about impressing my grandfather. My mom says I'm exactly like him, which means he's critical, and he doesn't show his emotions, including love and appreciation, very well. And I believe he's rather well-to-do. Oi. At least I'll know where he's coming from. And I think I'll relate to him well enough.
That's about all that's going on, really. So. I suppose I'll close here. Thanks for reading.
November 28, 2004
Headfirst For Halos
Well let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all
I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling
And now the red ones make me fly
And the blue ones help me fall
And I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling
And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall
Fall on your tongue like pixie dust just think happy thoughts
And we'll fly home
We'll fly home
You and I
We'll fly home
Well now I'm back in the middle of the day that starts it all.
Well I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling.
And now these red ones make me fly,
And the blue ones help me fall.
And I think I'll blow my brain against the ceiling.
And we'll fly home,
We'll fly home,
You and I,
We'll fly home.
Now honestly that's what I said to her, what I said to her
Think happy thoughts.
~My Chemical Romance
I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling
And now the red ones make me fly
And the blue ones help me fall
And I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling
And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall
Fall on your tongue like pixie dust just think happy thoughts
And we'll fly home
We'll fly home
You and I
We'll fly home
Well now I'm back in the middle of the day that starts it all.
Well I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling.
And now these red ones make me fly,
And the blue ones help me fall.
And I think I'll blow my brain against the ceiling.
And we'll fly home,
We'll fly home,
You and I,
We'll fly home.
Now honestly that's what I said to her, what I said to her
Think happy thoughts.
~My Chemical Romance
November 22, 2004
A Weekend Getaway: Part I
Three, Underoath, Coheed and Cambria... What do these three bands have in common? They were all at the Tremont Music Hall in Charlotte, North Carolina on November 20th, and I was there to see them.
We'll start with the drive there. I left my house at 9:05am on Saturday. Myriah and I had to drop by my mom's work and say adieu. We sat in the parking lot for a bit after that due to some technical difficulties with the sound system, but after fixing the cd player in my vehicle, we were off to Nate's house.
Nate was late. We told him we'd be by his house around 9:45-10:00. His alarm clock had been going off sporadically since about 9am, but he didn't pay attention to it. He only finally got up after his dad reset the clock to 10:15 and yelled, "Nate! It's 10:15!" It was really only 9:30, but it got him up.
He had to get dressed and fix his hair before we could leave, but I still needed to print off the directions since my printer was being an ass, so it was alright. We left late, but got gas and got the car washed, and then arrived on time.
We had to pick Matt out from the middle of a parade. It was insane. People were pushing and shoving. The roads were flooded with a throng of mothers with strollers and small children dripping from their fingertips. It took several illegal turns and several frustrated exclamations before I finally made my way over to where we were supposed to pick him up. When we finally got there, we found an extra surprise; Chris was going with us to grab some lunch before we hit the road again.
Getting out of that area was mad. The roads were packed with the above mentioned mothers, and now there were cars of many various shapes, sizes, and colors darting about from paved roadway to paved roadway. It took many more minutes than usual to get out of this labyrinth, but we finally made it out alive and with tasteful thoughts of lunch.
We at first tried Chick Fil A in the mall, but the lines were tremendous, so we settled for everyone's favorite, Taco Bell. Oh yes. We chilled there for a bit, and then Chris' mother came by to take him away from us, and we drove away rather speedily into the dusk... At... 12pm.
From there, we drove many miles and sang along with many songs, and finally ended up somewhere other than Jacksonville. We stopped occasionally at gas stations and a Wal-Mart. Once, we stopped at a rather large river in the Uwharrie Forest area. I made many wrong turns, and back tracked a good many miles. Finally, though, we reached Charlotte.
The boys' bladders were full, so they needed to visit a rest stop of sorts before we hit the concert lines. We searched far and near throughout the ghettos of downtown Charlotte, and finally came across a building that could possibly house a toilet or two. The windows were barred and the occupants seemed rather hostile, but the boys figured it was worth a shot. Unfortunately, that toilet/those toilets within this dismal structure were private commodes, and so our young men were forced to resort to slightly less conventional means of relief. They ran around behind the building, did their business, and then sauntered back to the car, zipping up their pants and fastening their belts, much to the amusement of the several buff onlookers. Myriah and I did our best to hurry them along into the car before these aforementioned buff onlookers decided to take some action in defense of the rear wall of their store, and when they finally took the hint, we sped out of the parking lot and into the dark streets awaiting the massage of our tire treads upon its worn back.
Tempers were flaring and music was blaring as we worked our way to the music hall. Some wanted to stop and wait, others wanted food and fun. In the end, food and fun won out, and so I drove on until we found a Dunkin' Donuts. Several bagels and jokes about heroine later, we once again returned to the car and made our way back to the music hall.
When we arrived, I parked the car on a grassy knoll, and we waded through the weeds and emo hair towards the house of our amusement... And then we stopped short at the end of a line that snaked its way around the building and seemingly across the entire circumference of the world. There, in front of us, was a young man who captured the art of humor as though it were nothing more than a floating bubble in the winds of conversation. He called himself Dan. Dan was the reason we made it through that line alive. He kept our spirits awake and alive with tales of sewing fingers together and finding tickets and whatnot.
When we finally made it into the building, the air was hot with bodies and the smell was that of smoke and body odors. The lights were low, and the crowds were still... And then appeared Three.
Three was made up of more than three men who appeared to be somewhere near thirty or above. Their vocals were strong, clear, and attractive, but the guitarist's fingers weren't moving nearly as quickly as his notes were flying, which brought on some rather disturbing thoughts. It was like Ashlee Simpson on SNL all over again.
Underoath was much more excitedly welcomed. They sounded very nice, and the band members were interesting. The keyboardist appeared to be doing nothing more than pushing a few random keys here and there and headbanging between... But that's pure speculation from a lowly Morgan.
Coheed and Cambria were quite lovely. Claudio's hair brought thrills and chills up the spines of all who were in viewing range. His voice melted through the offkey melodies thrown in by the crowd. Cheering, surfing, and moshing quickly ensued. It was truly a beautiful thing...
We'll start with the drive there. I left my house at 9:05am on Saturday. Myriah and I had to drop by my mom's work and say adieu. We sat in the parking lot for a bit after that due to some technical difficulties with the sound system, but after fixing the cd player in my vehicle, we were off to Nate's house.
Nate was late. We told him we'd be by his house around 9:45-10:00. His alarm clock had been going off sporadically since about 9am, but he didn't pay attention to it. He only finally got up after his dad reset the clock to 10:15 and yelled, "Nate! It's 10:15!" It was really only 9:30, but it got him up.
He had to get dressed and fix his hair before we could leave, but I still needed to print off the directions since my printer was being an ass, so it was alright. We left late, but got gas and got the car washed, and then arrived on time.
We had to pick Matt out from the middle of a parade. It was insane. People were pushing and shoving. The roads were flooded with a throng of mothers with strollers and small children dripping from their fingertips. It took several illegal turns and several frustrated exclamations before I finally made my way over to where we were supposed to pick him up. When we finally got there, we found an extra surprise; Chris was going with us to grab some lunch before we hit the road again.
Getting out of that area was mad. The roads were packed with the above mentioned mothers, and now there were cars of many various shapes, sizes, and colors darting about from paved roadway to paved roadway. It took many more minutes than usual to get out of this labyrinth, but we finally made it out alive and with tasteful thoughts of lunch.
We at first tried Chick Fil A in the mall, but the lines were tremendous, so we settled for everyone's favorite, Taco Bell. Oh yes. We chilled there for a bit, and then Chris' mother came by to take him away from us, and we drove away rather speedily into the dusk... At... 12pm.
From there, we drove many miles and sang along with many songs, and finally ended up somewhere other than Jacksonville. We stopped occasionally at gas stations and a Wal-Mart. Once, we stopped at a rather large river in the Uwharrie Forest area. I made many wrong turns, and back tracked a good many miles. Finally, though, we reached Charlotte.
The boys' bladders were full, so they needed to visit a rest stop of sorts before we hit the concert lines. We searched far and near throughout the ghettos of downtown Charlotte, and finally came across a building that could possibly house a toilet or two. The windows were barred and the occupants seemed rather hostile, but the boys figured it was worth a shot. Unfortunately, that toilet/those toilets within this dismal structure were private commodes, and so our young men were forced to resort to slightly less conventional means of relief. They ran around behind the building, did their business, and then sauntered back to the car, zipping up their pants and fastening their belts, much to the amusement of the several buff onlookers. Myriah and I did our best to hurry them along into the car before these aforementioned buff onlookers decided to take some action in defense of the rear wall of their store, and when they finally took the hint, we sped out of the parking lot and into the dark streets awaiting the massage of our tire treads upon its worn back.
Tempers were flaring and music was blaring as we worked our way to the music hall. Some wanted to stop and wait, others wanted food and fun. In the end, food and fun won out, and so I drove on until we found a Dunkin' Donuts. Several bagels and jokes about heroine later, we once again returned to the car and made our way back to the music hall.
When we arrived, I parked the car on a grassy knoll, and we waded through the weeds and emo hair towards the house of our amusement... And then we stopped short at the end of a line that snaked its way around the building and seemingly across the entire circumference of the world. There, in front of us, was a young man who captured the art of humor as though it were nothing more than a floating bubble in the winds of conversation. He called himself Dan. Dan was the reason we made it through that line alive. He kept our spirits awake and alive with tales of sewing fingers together and finding tickets and whatnot.
When we finally made it into the building, the air was hot with bodies and the smell was that of smoke and body odors. The lights were low, and the crowds were still... And then appeared Three.
Three was made up of more than three men who appeared to be somewhere near thirty or above. Their vocals were strong, clear, and attractive, but the guitarist's fingers weren't moving nearly as quickly as his notes were flying, which brought on some rather disturbing thoughts. It was like Ashlee Simpson on SNL all over again.
Underoath was much more excitedly welcomed. They sounded very nice, and the band members were interesting. The keyboardist appeared to be doing nothing more than pushing a few random keys here and there and headbanging between... But that's pure speculation from a lowly Morgan.
Coheed and Cambria were quite lovely. Claudio's hair brought thrills and chills up the spines of all who were in viewing range. His voice melted through the offkey melodies thrown in by the crowd. Cheering, surfing, and moshing quickly ensued. It was truly a beautiful thing...
November 17, 2004
Maybe Yes, Maybe No, Maybe Maybe
I said, "Yeah... I haven't had an actual boyfriend for a while."
She said, "You know, guys don't find it very attractive when you say that sort of thing... *snobbish sniff* Maybe that's why."
*sigh*
Is that why? No. It's because I'm too damn picky. andmostboysthinkimaloserorsomething...
Anyway. I was just thinking tonight about my love life, or the lack thereof. I'm cool not having a boyfriend, which is a good sign, I suppose. However, it can be rather hard on one's self-esteem nonetheless... Which is not good. In any way.
Life was so much easier when I was 12. Man. I had so many little boyfriends back in the day. Why'd it change? I don't know. Maybe I knew how to flirt back then, and I just lost it over the years... Or something. I don't know. There is only one guy who will ever truly count, and he is yet to be a major part of my life. I think. I hope.
[quiz]
I have an argumentative paper that needs to be written.
I ♥ you.
She said, "You know, guys don't find it very attractive when you say that sort of thing... *snobbish sniff* Maybe that's why."
*sigh*
Is that why? No. It's because I'm too damn picky. andmostboysthinkimaloserorsomething...
Anyway. I was just thinking tonight about my love life, or the lack thereof. I'm cool not having a boyfriend, which is a good sign, I suppose. However, it can be rather hard on one's self-esteem nonetheless... Which is not good. In any way.
Life was so much easier when I was 12. Man. I had so many little boyfriends back in the day. Why'd it change? I don't know. Maybe I knew how to flirt back then, and I just lost it over the years... Or something. I don't know. There is only one guy who will ever truly count, and he is yet to be a major part of my life. I think. I hope.
[quiz]
I have an argumentative paper that needs to be written.
I ♥ you.
November 15, 2004
Where I Am
Lately, I just can't seem to believe
Discard my friends to change the scenery
It meant the world to hold a bruising faith
But now it's just a matter of grace
This really sums up a lot for me right now. I'm at a rather odd point in my life. I'm ready to leave, even though that would mean leaving the friends that I love. I'm finding it slightly difficult to hold onto the faith that I've known all of my life, mainly because I'm seeing it twisted and abused so very much. In the end of everything, I'm leaving it all to grace.
(From To Shiela by The Smashing Pumpkins)
Discard my friends to change the scenery
It meant the world to hold a bruising faith
But now it's just a matter of grace
This really sums up a lot for me right now. I'm at a rather odd point in my life. I'm ready to leave, even though that would mean leaving the friends that I love. I'm finding it slightly difficult to hold onto the faith that I've known all of my life, mainly because I'm seeing it twisted and abused so very much. In the end of everything, I'm leaving it all to grace.
(From To Shiela by The Smashing Pumpkins)
November 12, 2004
Y? Because we love you...
Okay. First off. I love you.
I feel like having a good, thick rant. At the moment, however, I can't focus on one thing in particular that is bothering me. FREEWRITING TIME!
Today has been one of those kinds of days that are filled to the brim with good things, bad things, things that make you think, things you don't want to think about, things that make you want to smile and cry about at the same time, and things that make you want to laugh and vomit on at the same time. The good comes with the bad. I'm glad today's good things kind of weighed evenly with the bad things.
I had been listening to five Postal Service songs over and over. Why only five? Because, for one reason or another, only five off of the cd were uploaded onto my computer. So, I have numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and 8. After about the fifth or sixth time through those five songs, I got bored with it, and turned it off. Then, I started looking through my favorite websites. I found this. And that's what I'm listening to now. Repetitively. It's catchy in an incredibly annoying way. If this guy made a cd, and I were a millionaire, I might just buy it.
Screw that. The Blood Brothers, here I come.
I want a boyfriend, but I really don't. Figure that one out.
There are three things that I can think of right now that I am looking forward to doing. One is sure to happen, one may not happen, and one may not happen as soon as I'd like.
1.) Coheed and Cambria/Underoath concert in Charlotte on the 20th of November. Myriah, Nate, Chris (or someone), and I, driving in my car, staying in Charlotte... It's going to be interesting.
2.) Trip to Louisville, KY, to see Chyppe and John. Possibly either my mom, sister, and I driving to Louisville, or just Myriah and I driving to Louisville. Either way, it's not sure yet, but we'd hopefully be staying possibly from the 18th to the 23rd of December.
3.) Moving out and starting my own life. The soonest possible date is March 5th, 2005. As much as I'm looking forward to it and wanting it to happen... I'm scared too. I don't know what I'll do, but I want to do something. Who knows what'll happen?
I have school tomorrow. I get my car back again tomorrow. I work from 6 until about 9:45 tomorrow evening.
I wonder how many people read this. One? Me? *sigh*
I've been getting dizzy again lately. Not nearly as seriously as The Great Dizzyness of '01, though. It's more of an annoyance than a worry. Kind of like when you stand up way too fast and you get that dizzy feeling. It's just odd. Like, every once in a while, the world pauses, rewinds, and then plays again. But only a split second's worth. I don't know.
God Bless You, Blood Thirsty Zeppelins.
I've bored you long enough... That is... If anyone is actually reading this... And it's 1:40am. I think that I should probably start trying to go to sleep before 2am. It'd be good to get 8 hours of sleep at night.
So I bid to you goodnight, tonight. Sleep tight, my love.
I feel like having a good, thick rant. At the moment, however, I can't focus on one thing in particular that is bothering me. FREEWRITING TIME!
Today has been one of those kinds of days that are filled to the brim with good things, bad things, things that make you think, things you don't want to think about, things that make you want to smile and cry about at the same time, and things that make you want to laugh and vomit on at the same time. The good comes with the bad. I'm glad today's good things kind of weighed evenly with the bad things.
I had been listening to five Postal Service songs over and over. Why only five? Because, for one reason or another, only five off of the cd were uploaded onto my computer. So, I have numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and 8. After about the fifth or sixth time through those five songs, I got bored with it, and turned it off. Then, I started looking through my favorite websites. I found this. And that's what I'm listening to now. Repetitively. It's catchy in an incredibly annoying way. If this guy made a cd, and I were a millionaire, I might just buy it.
Screw that. The Blood Brothers, here I come.
I want a boyfriend, but I really don't. Figure that one out.
There are three things that I can think of right now that I am looking forward to doing. One is sure to happen, one may not happen, and one may not happen as soon as I'd like.
1.) Coheed and Cambria/Underoath concert in Charlotte on the 20th of November. Myriah, Nate, Chris (or someone), and I, driving in my car, staying in Charlotte... It's going to be interesting.
2.) Trip to Louisville, KY, to see Chyppe and John. Possibly either my mom, sister, and I driving to Louisville, or just Myriah and I driving to Louisville. Either way, it's not sure yet, but we'd hopefully be staying possibly from the 18th to the 23rd of December.
3.) Moving out and starting my own life. The soonest possible date is March 5th, 2005. As much as I'm looking forward to it and wanting it to happen... I'm scared too. I don't know what I'll do, but I want to do something. Who knows what'll happen?
I have school tomorrow. I get my car back again tomorrow. I work from 6 until about 9:45 tomorrow evening.
I wonder how many people read this. One? Me? *sigh*
I've been getting dizzy again lately. Not nearly as seriously as The Great Dizzyness of '01, though. It's more of an annoyance than a worry. Kind of like when you stand up way too fast and you get that dizzy feeling. It's just odd. Like, every once in a while, the world pauses, rewinds, and then plays again. But only a split second's worth. I don't know.
God Bless You, Blood Thirsty Zeppelins.
I've bored you long enough... That is... If anyone is actually reading this... And it's 1:40am. I think that I should probably start trying to go to sleep before 2am. It'd be good to get 8 hours of sleep at night.
So I bid to you goodnight, tonight. Sleep tight, my love.
November 11, 2004
November 07, 2004
Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n' Roll
Man. Popularity and peer pressure and all of that crap sucks so badly. I hate it.
It really bothers me how sex, drugs, androck 'n' roll alcohol are so insanely available and popular and loved throughout the masses. It makes me feel like I don't fit in when the rest of the kids are partying and drinking the night away, but I still wouldn't want to be a part of it.
I have mixed feelings about the whole ordeal, really, and that's what I hate the most. People make it look so good, but at the same time, I know the consequences, and I know it isn't good forever. I don't have a problem with being myself regardless of what other people think, but I am human, so I'm bound to want to fit in. It seems like just about everyone my age (that I know in person, and excepting a few people who just happen to be homeschooled) is either partying every weekend and having a blast, or they're "losers" who do their best to fit in and be a part of the crowd and end up just being miserable anyway. There are so few people who are "normal" and yet like me at the same time... It is so frustrating.
My dream life? Living someplace where I have the world at my fingertips, can be self-sufficient and unique, and can just have my own little life and lifestyle.
I guess this is just one of those down parts to being a teenager/young adult. Maybe by the time I'm 64 or so I'll be able to not party and still be cool.
Ahhh. Who cares?
It really bothers me how sex, drugs, and
I have mixed feelings about the whole ordeal, really, and that's what I hate the most. People make it look so good, but at the same time, I know the consequences, and I know it isn't good forever. I don't have a problem with being myself regardless of what other people think, but I am human, so I'm bound to want to fit in. It seems like just about everyone my age (that I know in person, and excepting a few people who just happen to be homeschooled) is either partying every weekend and having a blast, or they're "losers" who do their best to fit in and be a part of the crowd and end up just being miserable anyway. There are so few people who are "normal" and yet like me at the same time... It is so frustrating.
My dream life? Living someplace where I have the world at my fingertips, can be self-sufficient and unique, and can just have my own little life and lifestyle.
I guess this is just one of those down parts to being a teenager/young adult. Maybe by the time I'm 64 or so I'll be able to not party and still be cool.
Ahhh. Who cares?
November 06, 2004
November 03, 2004
October 30, 2004
HOTT
Damn. I love my work.
Today was a hectic mess. Hot Topic at Halloween is something to behold. It's hott.
I bought a belt, cd, button, and a pair of earrings for under $7.35. The whole clearance rack was an additional 50% off, and then I had my employee discount of 40% off... So, yeah. Happy day.
I saw Selina today! I haven't seen her in such a very, very long time. Since the beginning of January, I think. She's so cool. I really should find more friends like her. Maybe if I tried super hard, I could find one or two... Maybe.
Word of the day: hott. Why? Dunno.
I am HOTT.
And I'm tired and hungry, and I wanted Taco Bell, but I didn't get any while I was out. So. I don't know. Something. And then something else.
Okay. Well, I just felt like updating this with something other than a rant, song, or poem. That's it.
Today was a hectic mess. Hot Topic at Halloween is something to behold. It's hott.
I bought a belt, cd, button, and a pair of earrings for under $7.35. The whole clearance rack was an additional 50% off, and then I had my employee discount of 40% off... So, yeah. Happy day.
I saw Selina today! I haven't seen her in such a very, very long time. Since the beginning of January, I think. She's so cool. I really should find more friends like her. Maybe if I tried super hard, I could find one or two... Maybe.
Word of the day: hott. Why? Dunno.
I am HOTT.
And I'm tired and hungry, and I wanted Taco Bell, but I didn't get any while I was out. So. I don't know. Something. And then something else.
Okay. Well, I just felt like updating this with something other than a rant, song, or poem. That's it.
Darkness
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contained;
Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash—and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gunshot their teeth and howled: the wild birds shrieked
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again:—a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought—and that was death
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails—men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assailed their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beast and famished men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not a caress—he died.
The crowd was famished by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heaped a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each others aspects—saw, and shrieked, and died—
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless,
A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and oceans all stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropped
They slept on the abyss without a surge—
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perished; Darkness had no need
Of air from them—She was the Universe.
~Lord Byron
The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contained;
Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash—and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gunshot their teeth and howled: the wild birds shrieked
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again:—a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought—and that was death
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails—men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assailed their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beast and famished men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not a caress—he died.
The crowd was famished by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heaped a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each others aspects—saw, and shrieked, and died—
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless,
A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and oceans all stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropped
They slept on the abyss without a surge—
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perished; Darkness had no need
Of air from them—She was the Universe.
~Lord Byron
October 29, 2004
Cupid De Locke
Cupid hath pulled back his sweetheart's bow
To cast divine arrows into her soul
To grab her attention swift and quick
Or morrow the marrow of her bones be thick
With turpentine kisses and mistaken blows
See the devil may do as the devil may care
He loves none sweeter as sweeter the dare
Her mouth the mischief he doth seek
Her heart the captive of which he speaks
So note all ye lovers in love with the sound
Your world be shattered with nary a note
Of one cupid's arrow under your coat
And in the land of star crossed lovers
And barren hearted wanderers
Forever lost in forsaken missives and satan's pull
We seek the unseekable and we speak the unspeakable
Our hopes dead gathering dust to dust
In faith, in compassion, and in love
To cast divine arrows into her soul
To grab her attention swift and quick
Or morrow the marrow of her bones be thick
With turpentine kisses and mistaken blows
See the devil may do as the devil may care
He loves none sweeter as sweeter the dare
Her mouth the mischief he doth seek
Her heart the captive of which he speaks
So note all ye lovers in love with the sound
Your world be shattered with nary a note
Of one cupid's arrow under your coat
And in the land of star crossed lovers
And barren hearted wanderers
Forever lost in forsaken missives and satan's pull
We seek the unseekable and we speak the unspeakable
Our hopes dead gathering dust to dust
In faith, in compassion, and in love
October 25, 2004
Live With Your Own Damn Grass
"The grass is always greener on the other side." I wish you would just live with your own damn grass instead of fertilizing it and trimming it past recognition, spray painting it green, or wishing you had someone else's lawn. Don't pretend it's pretty, but don't imagine that it's dead. Live with your own damn grass, and appreciate that you have grass period.
Sometimes people get so distracted by keeping their chin up that they don't totally see reality. They don't like to admit when they are down, when they don't think things are going well for them, or when life just isn't as beautiful as it used to be, so they ignore it instead and "look on the bright side". For one thing, they think it looks tough to appear happy all the time. For another, sometimes I think they're frightened by disappointment, depression, and sadness, so they pretend it isn't there. They pretend they're positive, upbeat, and cheerful. They put on a front to make themselves feel better.
I don't like it when people say things like "I can't complain" all the time. Especially when things clearly aren't going well. That is so fake. And then they condemn the people who are depressed or just melancholy for being lost in their sadness or not being peppy enough. People think that drowning yourself in your sorrow is such an awful thing... Well, it is, but drowning yourself in happiness is just as bad!
In life, there is good and there is bad. It is inevitable that you will deal with each at one point or another. Maybe you'll have more of one than of the other, but that's just the way it goes. You love the good, and you learn from the bad, and then you love the good that much more for having lived through the bad. If you ignore the bad, you corrupt the good and make it altogether meaningless.
If I had a choice between optimism and pessimism, I'd go with pessimism, but I'd greatly prefer realism, which is most definitely the hardest to attain.
If some of that didn't make sense, ponder the parts that did.
If you're happy right now, stay happy. If you're sad, stay sad. If you don't give a shit one way or another, then perhaps you should re-evaluate your outlook on life. Above all else, just be real.
Treasure those around you. You never know when they will be gone. You never know when you will be gone.
Don't dwell on the past, but don't forget about it. The past is the key to the future.
Love everyone that you can, but don't expect anything back.
Be nice to the kid in the corner who is all alone. They might turn into the best friend you'll ever have.
Never rely on your looks, abilities, or possessions for acceptance and love. You never know when those things will be gone, and all you'll be left with is your true self.
Love yourself. If you don't love yourself, well, damnit, who will?
Take time out of your day to breathe.
Occasionally look on the bright side, but be careful that you don't blind yourself to reality.
Give someone a hug sometime. It might do both of you good. (And it might get you arrested.)
Right. Well. Had to end that rambling somewhere. I suppose bringing in a touch of stupidity would be a great way to go out with a bang. I don't know how much of that I stole. I just started typing, and it took off from there. To the best of my knowledge, it's all good advice, though. If you take it, and it doesn't turn out for the best, tell me, and I'll edit the bad advice out of this post.
Thanks.
Sometimes people get so distracted by keeping their chin up that they don't totally see reality. They don't like to admit when they are down, when they don't think things are going well for them, or when life just isn't as beautiful as it used to be, so they ignore it instead and "look on the bright side". For one thing, they think it looks tough to appear happy all the time. For another, sometimes I think they're frightened by disappointment, depression, and sadness, so they pretend it isn't there. They pretend they're positive, upbeat, and cheerful. They put on a front to make themselves feel better.
I don't like it when people say things like "I can't complain" all the time. Especially when things clearly aren't going well. That is so fake. And then they condemn the people who are depressed or just melancholy for being lost in their sadness or not being peppy enough. People think that drowning yourself in your sorrow is such an awful thing... Well, it is, but drowning yourself in happiness is just as bad!
In life, there is good and there is bad. It is inevitable that you will deal with each at one point or another. Maybe you'll have more of one than of the other, but that's just the way it goes. You love the good, and you learn from the bad, and then you love the good that much more for having lived through the bad. If you ignore the bad, you corrupt the good and make it altogether meaningless.
If I had a choice between optimism and pessimism, I'd go with pessimism, but I'd greatly prefer realism, which is most definitely the hardest to attain.
If some of that didn't make sense, ponder the parts that did.
If you're happy right now, stay happy. If you're sad, stay sad. If you don't give a shit one way or another, then perhaps you should re-evaluate your outlook on life. Above all else, just be real.
Treasure those around you. You never know when they will be gone. You never know when you will be gone.
Don't dwell on the past, but don't forget about it. The past is the key to the future.
Love everyone that you can, but don't expect anything back.
Be nice to the kid in the corner who is all alone. They might turn into the best friend you'll ever have.
Never rely on your looks, abilities, or possessions for acceptance and love. You never know when those things will be gone, and all you'll be left with is your true self.
Love yourself. If you don't love yourself, well, damnit, who will?
Take time out of your day to breathe.
Occasionally look on the bright side, but be careful that you don't blind yourself to reality.
Give someone a hug sometime. It might do both of you good. (And it might get you arrested.)
Right. Well. Had to end that rambling somewhere. I suppose bringing in a touch of stupidity would be a great way to go out with a bang. I don't know how much of that I stole. I just started typing, and it took off from there. To the best of my knowledge, it's all good advice, though. If you take it, and it doesn't turn out for the best, tell me, and I'll edit the bad advice out of this post.
Thanks.
October 22, 2004
Folkways, Mores, and Laws
Alright. I was discussing society's mores when I came up with this little explanation/rant of sorts.
Be enlightened.
See, there are these norms, or rules which guide behavior. They're made up of folkways, mores, and laws. Folkways come from everyday life. Mores are morals (from religion) or obligations. Laws are, well, laws, which are written down and enforced by a group.
We are impacted by norms in that if we go against them, there will be consequences. For the folkways, the consequences generally aren't that serious. It'd be like not brushing your teeth or not showering. It'd be against the norms, but really the worst thing that's going to happen is that someone will bring it to your attention and it will be embarrassing. Laws, of course, are enforced by the higher group (ie, your employer, your parents, the government), so if you screw up there, you're going to be punished by either restriction of privileges, or by incarceration or something. Mores have the worst consequences, in my opinion. It's like a perverted justice type of thing. When you go against someone's morals or your obligations as a human being, not only are you going to be rebuked by your fellow man, but sometimes the government and/or higher authority will be involved as well.
So, yes. Society's mores are a terribly hard thing to go against, as they are changing so rapidly and definitely going downhill. It's becoming a norm to be a teenager and into drugs, alcohol, and nicotine. It's becoming a norm to be a teenager and not a virgin. It's becoming a norm to be a human and think that homosexuality and abortion are the right things to do or approve of. It's awful.
But... There are a lot of us who are going against it. Thankfully, at this point, the consequences aren't as high as they could be. We aren't being shunned for being straightedge or for thinking homosexuality is wrong. Not yet, we aren't. But who knows? Soon? Maybe.
Be enlightened.
See, there are these norms, or rules which guide behavior. They're made up of folkways, mores, and laws. Folkways come from everyday life. Mores are morals (from religion) or obligations. Laws are, well, laws, which are written down and enforced by a group.
We are impacted by norms in that if we go against them, there will be consequences. For the folkways, the consequences generally aren't that serious. It'd be like not brushing your teeth or not showering. It'd be against the norms, but really the worst thing that's going to happen is that someone will bring it to your attention and it will be embarrassing. Laws, of course, are enforced by the higher group (ie, your employer, your parents, the government), so if you screw up there, you're going to be punished by either restriction of privileges, or by incarceration or something. Mores have the worst consequences, in my opinion. It's like a perverted justice type of thing. When you go against someone's morals or your obligations as a human being, not only are you going to be rebuked by your fellow man, but sometimes the government and/or higher authority will be involved as well.
So, yes. Society's mores are a terribly hard thing to go against, as they are changing so rapidly and definitely going downhill. It's becoming a norm to be a teenager and into drugs, alcohol, and nicotine. It's becoming a norm to be a teenager and not a virgin. It's becoming a norm to be a human and think that homosexuality and abortion are the right things to do or approve of. It's awful.
But... There are a lot of us who are going against it. Thankfully, at this point, the consequences aren't as high as they could be. We aren't being shunned for being straightedge or for thinking homosexuality is wrong. Not yet, we aren't. But who knows? Soon? Maybe.
October 18, 2004
October 12, 2004
5 Dollars
So, for now it's guaranteed that I will always like you more
I'm always in this shirt and it's always just a little bit too small
I paid five dollars yesterday just to see you for a second
Someone's head was in my way again, like it always is
I guess you'll always be that boy who just won't notice I exist here
Cos this is such a small town, you did not see me standing right here
So, if I pass out when you walk by, it's probably cos you looked at me
Like I've already said too much...
--S.
I'm always in this shirt and it's always just a little bit too small
I paid five dollars yesterday just to see you for a second
Someone's head was in my way again, like it always is
I guess you'll always be that boy who just won't notice I exist here
Cos this is such a small town, you did not see me standing right here
So, if I pass out when you walk by, it's probably cos you looked at me
Like I've already said too much...
--S.
October 09, 2004
For Those Who Don't Belong...
"For everybody who thinks they were adopted into this race or doesn't feel they belong, feel free to message me."
Question: Have you ever met anyone who really felt they belonged, or were willing to admit that they fit in someplace? If so, what kind of person were they?
I know I haven't met many, if any at all... But maybe that's just me.
Question: Have you ever met anyone who really felt they belonged, or were willing to admit that they fit in someplace? If so, what kind of person were they?
I know I haven't met many, if any at all... But maybe that's just me.
October 04, 2004
No Lies, Just Love
It was in the March of the winter I turned seventeen
That I bought those pills
I thought I would need
And I wrote a letter to my family
Said it's not your fault
And you've been good to me
It's just lately I've been feeling
Like I don't belong
Like the ground's not mine to walk upon
And I've heard that music
Echo through the house
Where my grandmother drank
By herself
And I sat watching a flower
As it was withering
I was embarrassed by its honesty
So I'd prefer to be remembered as a smiling face
Not this fucking wreck
That's taken its place
So please forgive what I have done
No you can't stay mad at the setting sun
Cause we all get tired, I mean eventually
There is nothing left to do but sleep
But spring came bearing sunlight
Those persuasive rays
So I gave myself a few more days
My salvation it came, quite suddenly
When Justin spoke very plainly
He said "Of course it's your decision,
But just so you know,
If you decide to leave,
Soon I will follow"
I wrote this for a baby
Who has yet to be born
My brother's first child
I hope that womb's not too warm
Cause it's cold out here
And it'll be quite a shock
To breathe this air
To discover loss
So I'd like to make some changes
Before you arrive
So when your new eyes meet mine
They won't see no lies
Just love.
Just love.
I will be pure
No, no, I know I will be pure
Like snow, like gold
Like snow, like gold
Like snow, like snow
Like gold, like gold, like gold
-Bright Eyes
That I bought those pills
I thought I would need
And I wrote a letter to my family
Said it's not your fault
And you've been good to me
It's just lately I've been feeling
Like I don't belong
Like the ground's not mine to walk upon
And I've heard that music
Echo through the house
Where my grandmother drank
By herself
And I sat watching a flower
As it was withering
I was embarrassed by its honesty
So I'd prefer to be remembered as a smiling face
Not this fucking wreck
That's taken its place
So please forgive what I have done
No you can't stay mad at the setting sun
Cause we all get tired, I mean eventually
There is nothing left to do but sleep
But spring came bearing sunlight
Those persuasive rays
So I gave myself a few more days
My salvation it came, quite suddenly
When Justin spoke very plainly
He said "Of course it's your decision,
But just so you know,
If you decide to leave,
Soon I will follow"
I wrote this for a baby
Who has yet to be born
My brother's first child
I hope that womb's not too warm
Cause it's cold out here
And it'll be quite a shock
To breathe this air
To discover loss
So I'd like to make some changes
Before you arrive
So when your new eyes meet mine
They won't see no lies
Just love.
Just love.
I will be pure
No, no, I know I will be pure
Like snow, like gold
Like snow, like gold
Like snow, like snow
Like gold, like gold, like gold
-Bright Eyes
October 03, 2004
Skanking 101
Courtesy of Chyppe.
Step One: Bend Forward
Get that stiffness out of your spine, hang forward, but not too far, and get those arms and knees loose.
Step Two: Bend Knees and Elbows
Bend your elbows and clench your fists if you want to get that real rude attitude. Try to look more like you're getting ready to go sprinting rather than skiing.
Step Three: Claim Your Space
Get those feet shoulder-length apart, move one foot slightly forward, and take up as much of the dance floor as you can while you start your arms cranking back and forth. It might help if you pretend your shaking some maracas.
Step Four: Start Moving
Feel the beat. Get those arms swinging slightly and feel the bounce as you swing your hips. Move your weight from one foot to the other with each skank. Make sure you coordinate your arms and legs. If your right fist is moving forward, you should also be moving your right knee forward as you shift your weight. Then shift to the left.
Step Five: Skank to the Beat
Now start to vibe with some classic ska sounds. If you're doing a classic skank, your feet should not be moving too much. Rather, you should be bouncing with the upbeats and cranking those elbows. For added style, get a real cool expression and stare somewhere off in the upper corner of the room. Preferably with shades
Step One: Bend Forward
Get that stiffness out of your spine, hang forward, but not too far, and get those arms and knees loose.
Step Two: Bend Knees and Elbows
Bend your elbows and clench your fists if you want to get that real rude attitude. Try to look more like you're getting ready to go sprinting rather than skiing.
Step Three: Claim Your Space
Get those feet shoulder-length apart, move one foot slightly forward, and take up as much of the dance floor as you can while you start your arms cranking back and forth. It might help if you pretend your shaking some maracas.
Step Four: Start Moving
Feel the beat. Get those arms swinging slightly and feel the bounce as you swing your hips. Move your weight from one foot to the other with each skank. Make sure you coordinate your arms and legs. If your right fist is moving forward, you should also be moving your right knee forward as you shift your weight. Then shift to the left.
Step Five: Skank to the Beat
Now start to vibe with some classic ska sounds. If you're doing a classic skank, your feet should not be moving too much. Rather, you should be bouncing with the upbeats and cranking those elbows. For added style, get a real cool expression and stare somewhere off in the upper corner of the room. Preferably with shades
September 27, 2004
At Seventeen
I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired.
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth.
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say come dance with me
and murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen.
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
said, Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve.
The rich relationed hometown queen
she marries into what she needs
A guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly.
Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
Indebentures of quality
And dubious integrity.
Their small town eyes will gape at you
in dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen.
To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came,
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball.
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me.
We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
and murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen.
~Janis Ian
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired.
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth.
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say come dance with me
and murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen.
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
said, Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve.
The rich relationed hometown queen
she marries into what she needs
A guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly.
Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
Indebentures of quality
And dubious integrity.
Their small town eyes will gape at you
in dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen.
To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came,
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball.
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me.
We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
and murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen.
~Janis Ian
September 26, 2004
When You Wish Upon A Star
When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires will come to you
If your heart is in your dreams
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star as dreamers do
Fate is kind, she brings to those who love
The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing
Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true
I saw a shooting star tonight.
I'm feeling rather depressed this evening. Well, maybe not so much depressed as simply lonely and... rather mixed up. Sad, confused, lost, and alone, even though I know I'm not really alone. It's just all so terribly upsetting. Even smiling makes my face ache...
I think I may just go to church tomorrow. I'm not sure yet. I guess it will depend on what I feel like in the morning.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show is an insanely sexually oriented movie about a transvestite alien from Transexual, Transylvania, who sets two conventional young adults free from their conservative views on sex and life in general. It was the first time I had ever thought of a man in a corset as sexy. The whole movie could be taken extremely offensively by so many people. I saw it last night for the first time ever, and I loved it. Loved it.
I'M NOT AFRAID ANYMORE! Tonight, I saw Donnie Darko for the first time. I enjoyed it very much too. My only big problem with it was that it ended too soon.
Paranoid schizophrenia has been popping up around me a lot lately. For instance, that's what Donnie Darko had, or what they thought he had anyway. And I've been reading a book about Son of Sam. He was a serial killer in the late 1970's in New York City. He was a paranoid schizophreniac, and he thought he was possessed by the son of Sam, Sam being Satan, and his son being a demon. He killed people to appease the demons' thirst for blood. He imagined a whole lot of things in his illness. Schizophrenia is a very interesting thing. To study, of course. Not to have.
*sigh*
I wonder what I'll be when I "grow up". Tonight, as I was watching Donnie Darko, I was considering the possibility of being a teacher. I don't know. I'm not a big kids person... But it seems almost appealing, when you look at it in a certain light. If I am ever a teacher, it'd probably be for sociology, psychology, philosophy and religion, English, or highschool mathematics. But me becoming a teacher is highly unlikely. I was just thinking about it.
People are strange things. Boys are strange. Girls are even stranger. Emotions are even stranger than girls and boys put together. Heh. Combined, if you will. It'd be great to be able to understand someday. Perhaps we will.
And I guess I'll close with that. So, I bid to you goodnight, tonight, sleep tight, my love.
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires will come to you
If your heart is in your dreams
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star as dreamers do
Fate is kind, she brings to those who love
The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing
Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true
I saw a shooting star tonight.
I'm feeling rather depressed this evening. Well, maybe not so much depressed as simply lonely and... rather mixed up. Sad, confused, lost, and alone, even though I know I'm not really alone. It's just all so terribly upsetting. Even smiling makes my face ache...
I think I may just go to church tomorrow. I'm not sure yet. I guess it will depend on what I feel like in the morning.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show is an insanely sexually oriented movie about a transvestite alien from Transexual, Transylvania, who sets two conventional young adults free from their conservative views on sex and life in general. It was the first time I had ever thought of a man in a corset as sexy. The whole movie could be taken extremely offensively by so many people. I saw it last night for the first time ever, and I loved it. Loved it.
I'M NOT AFRAID ANYMORE! Tonight, I saw Donnie Darko for the first time. I enjoyed it very much too. My only big problem with it was that it ended too soon.
Paranoid schizophrenia has been popping up around me a lot lately. For instance, that's what Donnie Darko had, or what they thought he had anyway. And I've been reading a book about Son of Sam. He was a serial killer in the late 1970's in New York City. He was a paranoid schizophreniac, and he thought he was possessed by the son of Sam, Sam being Satan, and his son being a demon. He killed people to appease the demons' thirst for blood. He imagined a whole lot of things in his illness. Schizophrenia is a very interesting thing. To study, of course. Not to have.
*sigh*
I wonder what I'll be when I "grow up". Tonight, as I was watching Donnie Darko, I was considering the possibility of being a teacher. I don't know. I'm not a big kids person... But it seems almost appealing, when you look at it in a certain light. If I am ever a teacher, it'd probably be for sociology, psychology, philosophy and religion, English, or highschool mathematics. But me becoming a teacher is highly unlikely. I was just thinking about it.
People are strange things. Boys are strange. Girls are even stranger. Emotions are even stranger than girls and boys put together. Heh. Combined, if you will. It'd be great to be able to understand someday. Perhaps we will.
And I guess I'll close with that. So, I bid to you goodnight, tonight, sleep tight, my love.
September 23, 2004
Glory Box
I'm so tired of playing,
Playing with this bow and arrow,
Gonna give my heart away,
Leave it to the other girls to play,
From this time, unchained,
We’re all looking at a different picture,
Through this new frame of mind,
A thousand flowers could bloom,
Move over, and give us some room.
Playing with this bow and arrow,
Gonna give my heart away,
Leave it to the other girls to play,
From this time, unchained,
We’re all looking at a different picture,
Through this new frame of mind,
A thousand flowers could bloom,
Move over, and give us some room.
September 15, 2004
A Bad Situation
I wrote this little ditty for an English project today. Whipped it out in 10 minutes. Had to think of the situation first. That took a minute or two. After that, it was a breeze. The idea was to talk about a situation in my life that had started off as bad, but had turned into something good. Soooooooooooooo... Behold my gorgeous words.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Morgan. Morgan was the kind of girl who was disliked by many people, simply because she was quiet and different from their perception of normality, and they were closed-minded and silly. There was a condensed group of people such as these in a youth group near Morgan. Her sister was also an outsider of sorts, but was still somewhat a part of them, even though she disagreed with the way that they thought.
One day, this group decided to take a trip to a far off place. It was a place called Charleston, South Carolina. They were going to be little missionaries to the people in this land. Myriah, Morgan’s sister, wanted to go with them, and she wanted Morgan to go as well. Morgan wasn’t so sure that she wanted to be subjected to their disapproval for any length of time, but eventually gave in, agreed to go with them, and paid the money for this voyage.
The trip there was long and hazardous. The van was filled with the sounds of some of the young girls’ voices singing along with the music blaring through their headphones. The youth leader yelled for everyone to be quiet, but no one listened. They made several stops along the way, sometimes at gas stations, and once at McDonald’s. These breaks were a wonderful relief from the torture of being in the van.
When they finally got to this camp, it was not what they had expected. Morgan and Myriah had anticipated being apart from this group of mild [silly heads], but found that they were going to be spending great amounts of “quality time” with them. It was a sad time, this time of realization.
Their spirits were not low for long. Soon, they found other friends at this camp, and began liberating themselves from the group they had come with. They met Chyppe, John, Joey, Tate, and The Philmeister, and it was good. They sang songs together while walking about the camp. They had long conversations, and it was all great fun.
Therefore, even though Morgan and Myriah were stuck with this extremely unattractive group, they made the best of the situation by branching out and finding others to hang out with. This week went from being a terrible time of partial incarceration, to being one of the best weeks they had had in a long while.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Morgan. Morgan was the kind of girl who was disliked by many people, simply because she was quiet and different from their perception of normality, and they were closed-minded and silly. There was a condensed group of people such as these in a youth group near Morgan. Her sister was also an outsider of sorts, but was still somewhat a part of them, even though she disagreed with the way that they thought.
One day, this group decided to take a trip to a far off place. It was a place called Charleston, South Carolina. They were going to be little missionaries to the people in this land. Myriah, Morgan’s sister, wanted to go with them, and she wanted Morgan to go as well. Morgan wasn’t so sure that she wanted to be subjected to their disapproval for any length of time, but eventually gave in, agreed to go with them, and paid the money for this voyage.
The trip there was long and hazardous. The van was filled with the sounds of some of the young girls’ voices singing along with the music blaring through their headphones. The youth leader yelled for everyone to be quiet, but no one listened. They made several stops along the way, sometimes at gas stations, and once at McDonald’s. These breaks were a wonderful relief from the torture of being in the van.
When they finally got to this camp, it was not what they had expected. Morgan and Myriah had anticipated being apart from this group of mild [silly heads], but found that they were going to be spending great amounts of “quality time” with them. It was a sad time, this time of realization.
Their spirits were not low for long. Soon, they found other friends at this camp, and began liberating themselves from the group they had come with. They met Chyppe, John, Joey, Tate, and The Philmeister, and it was good. They sang songs together while walking about the camp. They had long conversations, and it was all great fun.
Therefore, even though Morgan and Myriah were stuck with this extremely unattractive group, they made the best of the situation by branching out and finding others to hang out with. This week went from being a terrible time of partial incarceration, to being one of the best weeks they had had in a long while.
September 14, 2004
The Recluse
How'd I end up here to begin with? I don't know.
Why do I start what I can't finish?
Oh please, don't barrage me with questions to all those ugly answers.
My ego's like my stomach--it keeps shitting what I feed it.
But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore...
Why do I start what I can't finish?
Oh please, don't barrage me with questions to all those ugly answers.
My ego's like my stomach--it keeps shitting what I feed it.
But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore...
September 12, 2004
And That Is Where It's At
I have told some people that this would be my main blog now. I haven't really been treating it that way, though, because out of the three that I use the most, this is the only one where I haven't really been getting any comments. At all. So... I suppose I'll just keep typing away until someone finally decides that they have something they would like to say in response to some of my words.
Right now, I'm listening to Time Is Running Out by Muse. It is really good stuff. I like it a lot. It was sent to me through my good friend and main music man, Chyppe. Can I hear a hooray for Chyppe? *hooray*
I'm supposed to be finishing my English homework right now, but I'm procrastinating. Procrastination is my greatest hobby. I find it simply irresistable. I can't get enough of it. I have a draft finished for a personal narrative, but I haven't finished the finished project yet. I need to revise. It's due tomorrow.
I am now listening to New Slang by The Shins. It is off of the Garden State soundtrack, and also courtesy of The Chyppemeister. It reminds me... Of that feeling one might get right after watching an especially touching movie. A movie that reminds you kind of yourself, and ends in that kind of way where life's not perfect, but not as terrible as it once was... Maybe a movie like White Oleander or Amelie.
If you haven't listened to The Shins yet, do so. Now.
Well, I suppose I should probably go work on that narrative. And so concludes my update.
Right now, I'm listening to Time Is Running Out by Muse. It is really good stuff. I like it a lot. It was sent to me through my good friend and main music man, Chyppe. Can I hear a hooray for Chyppe? *hooray*
I'm supposed to be finishing my English homework right now, but I'm procrastinating. Procrastination is my greatest hobby. I find it simply irresistable. I can't get enough of it. I have a draft finished for a personal narrative, but I haven't finished the finished project yet. I need to revise. It's due tomorrow.
I am now listening to New Slang by The Shins. It is off of the Garden State soundtrack, and also courtesy of The Chyppemeister. It reminds me... Of that feeling one might get right after watching an especially touching movie. A movie that reminds you kind of yourself, and ends in that kind of way where life's not perfect, but not as terrible as it once was... Maybe a movie like White Oleander or Amelie.
If you haven't listened to The Shins yet, do so. Now.
Well, I suppose I should probably go work on that narrative. And so concludes my update.
September 07, 2004
September 06, 2004
The Sadness
Is sadness inherent in society? What about happiness? Can one exist without the other? Can we exist without causing some variation of each?
Wouldn't life suck if there were no such thing as emotion?
Wouldn't life suck if there were no such thing as emotion?
September 01, 2004
Do You Know What I Hate The Most?
Would you like to know what I hate? I hate it when people can't see or don't appreciate that which is right in front of them, being handed to them on a silver platter. Instead, they prefer to dwell upon that which is unhappy in their lives.
And I hate this in myself too, cos God knows I am more than guilty of it. It has become my lifestyle.
Damnit. I'm going to go write some bad poetry.
And I hate this in myself too, cos God knows I am more than guilty of it. It has become my lifestyle.
Damnit. I'm going to go write some bad poetry.
A Brief History Of Sorts
Morgan Kayte Lutheran was born to Dale and Meridy Lutheran, in Carbondale, Illinois, on the great day of March 5th, 1987. Not only is this date a great one because that is the date of the beginning of A Chorus Line's British Tour, but also because the last three numbers of the year are right in a row and in order on a keyboard, and therefore much easier to find, for those of us who can't detect precisely where each of the number keys are just by memory.
She lived a mostly happy, and yet lonely childhood in a small town in Illinois called Sesser. She attended a small public school for both kindergarten and first grade, and though she was never really disliked or unwanted, she just couldn't seem to find her place. She remembers to this day sitting in the gym during PE and just wondering why she felt so alone.
After her second year of public school, her mommy told her that she would not be going back. She said that she was going to be homeschooled, but that it probably wasn't a good idea to tell her teachers, because they might not understand. She liked homeschooling just as well as she liked public school, because either way, she felt quite alone, and her relationships were really what was the most important to her anyway.
She lived in Sesser for nearly 10 years of her life. She had a few friends at their church, and she had lots of family that lived close-by. It was a nice place to live. But one half of a year before her 10th birthday, her parents uprooted their family, and replanted them in a medium-sized town in North Carolina. This town had the unattractive name of Wilson.
Wilson didn't turn out to be quite as dull as the name made it sound. There was a homeschool group there with nearly fifty families involved. Morgan's mother and several other mothers tried to get her involved with the young ladies in the group, but these young ladies never seemed to really click with Morgan. She eventually found her place amongst the young lads in the group, and was quite happy with her position.
The time in Wilson was pure bliss for Morgan, excepting any of the time during which she came into contact with her apartment neighbor, Kim Koda, or her neighbor's daughter, Kayla Koda. They were a raucous pair, playing Spice Girls and other such disgusting audio clips very loudly bright and early each morning, throughout the entire day, and then well into the night. Not only did they have terrible taste in music, they were also very difficult to get along with. Kim would often get drunk and come next door to harass Morgan's mother. At one point, it got so bad that the police were called.
As we all know, good times cannot last forever. Wilson was soon replaced for yet another small town. Stella.
Stella is a place so small that they only have a post office, a gas station, and three churches. Oh, and there are two known streetlights in this area. Not only is Stella incredibly small, it's also filled with strange people. One half contains the rich people who appreciate fine cars and lawn ornaments. The other half holds the poorer folk who enjoy hunting dogs, guns, and four wheelers. In the beginning, the Lutheran family didn't really fit in with either of these two groups, but as time went by, they started molding themselves to the poorer group's way of life. All of them except for Morgan and Myriah, that is.
Morgan is the kind of kid who doesn't fit in easily. She isn't stuck up or disagreeable . . . She's just different, and the people in her area don't seem to appreciate that which is different.
When her family first placed her in this awfully small and boring region, she was about ten and a half. Now, she is seventeen and a half, and still hasn't found her place. She has tried various churches and schools, and approaches each with a good attitude and a cheerful expression, but she just can't seem to find acceptance in any of them.
She tried private school in eighth grade, but became bored with it very quickly due to a poor selection of friends, and dropped out after the first semester. She longed for more constant human contact soon after, and decided to try public school once again during her tenth grade year. She only stayed for the first semester. Again, for her eleventh grade year, she went back to public school, again only to stay for the first semester. She tired quickly of the busy-work and monotony of it all. Now, she is in her senior year of highschool, and it attending a community college. It's not as bad as she had once thought it would be.
Morgan still has only a few friends (actually, more on the internet than in person), and still has not found her place in this Eastern North Carolina area. She is still trying, though. She looks forward to the day when she can move out of this area and find someplace that is more open-minded and interesting.
Morgan has very little idea of what she wants to do with her future. All she knows is that she wants someone to love, and that will be enough.
She lived a mostly happy, and yet lonely childhood in a small town in Illinois called Sesser. She attended a small public school for both kindergarten and first grade, and though she was never really disliked or unwanted, she just couldn't seem to find her place. She remembers to this day sitting in the gym during PE and just wondering why she felt so alone.
After her second year of public school, her mommy told her that she would not be going back. She said that she was going to be homeschooled, but that it probably wasn't a good idea to tell her teachers, because they might not understand. She liked homeschooling just as well as she liked public school, because either way, she felt quite alone, and her relationships were really what was the most important to her anyway.
She lived in Sesser for nearly 10 years of her life. She had a few friends at their church, and she had lots of family that lived close-by. It was a nice place to live. But one half of a year before her 10th birthday, her parents uprooted their family, and replanted them in a medium-sized town in North Carolina. This town had the unattractive name of Wilson.
Wilson didn't turn out to be quite as dull as the name made it sound. There was a homeschool group there with nearly fifty families involved. Morgan's mother and several other mothers tried to get her involved with the young ladies in the group, but these young ladies never seemed to really click with Morgan. She eventually found her place amongst the young lads in the group, and was quite happy with her position.
The time in Wilson was pure bliss for Morgan, excepting any of the time during which she came into contact with her apartment neighbor, Kim Koda, or her neighbor's daughter, Kayla Koda. They were a raucous pair, playing Spice Girls and other such disgusting audio clips very loudly bright and early each morning, throughout the entire day, and then well into the night. Not only did they have terrible taste in music, they were also very difficult to get along with. Kim would often get drunk and come next door to harass Morgan's mother. At one point, it got so bad that the police were called.
As we all know, good times cannot last forever. Wilson was soon replaced for yet another small town. Stella.
Stella is a place so small that they only have a post office, a gas station, and three churches. Oh, and there are two known streetlights in this area. Not only is Stella incredibly small, it's also filled with strange people. One half contains the rich people who appreciate fine cars and lawn ornaments. The other half holds the poorer folk who enjoy hunting dogs, guns, and four wheelers. In the beginning, the Lutheran family didn't really fit in with either of these two groups, but as time went by, they started molding themselves to the poorer group's way of life. All of them except for Morgan and Myriah, that is.
Morgan is the kind of kid who doesn't fit in easily. She isn't stuck up or disagreeable . . . She's just different, and the people in her area don't seem to appreciate that which is different.
When her family first placed her in this awfully small and boring region, she was about ten and a half. Now, she is seventeen and a half, and still hasn't found her place. She has tried various churches and schools, and approaches each with a good attitude and a cheerful expression, but she just can't seem to find acceptance in any of them.
She tried private school in eighth grade, but became bored with it very quickly due to a poor selection of friends, and dropped out after the first semester. She longed for more constant human contact soon after, and decided to try public school once again during her tenth grade year. She only stayed for the first semester. Again, for her eleventh grade year, she went back to public school, again only to stay for the first semester. She tired quickly of the busy-work and monotony of it all. Now, she is in her senior year of highschool, and it attending a community college. It's not as bad as she had once thought it would be.
Morgan still has only a few friends (actually, more on the internet than in person), and still has not found her place in this Eastern North Carolina area. She is still trying, though. She looks forward to the day when she can move out of this area and find someplace that is more open-minded and interesting.
Morgan has very little idea of what she wants to do with her future. All she knows is that she wants someone to love, and that will be enough.
August 28, 2004
Jatherhl: Band Above All Bands
There is a band that stands tall above all other bands. It is a band that has brought true rock to Louisville for many months. They have made grown men and women stand in awe, and small children run and dance in the streets.
My love for Jatherhl is the surest thing that I have ever known. It shall remain strong throughout the years, even until death. And, no, I've never even heard them perform with an actual singer, but nonetheless! Chyppe, Ian, Luke, and Paul have truly created a monster of majestic magnitude. Beauty rules, and Rock reigns strong.
[link]
My love for Jatherhl is the surest thing that I have ever known. It shall remain strong throughout the years, even until death. And, no, I've never even heard them perform with an actual singer, but nonetheless! Chyppe, Ian, Luke, and Paul have truly created a monster of majestic magnitude. Beauty rules, and Rock reigns strong.
[link]
August 27, 2004
For Everything, There Is A First
Today marks the beginning of something new. It is the great and terrible spawn of Blogger, known only to all mankind as... The Imploding Voice. Its mission: to eventually take control of every other weblog, journal, or other information center that has come to pass from the fingers and mind of The Great Maux. So it has been spoken, now let it be.
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