My status has been "Amy is inside-out! Imagine I'm a cactus and my needles are my thoughts. So if you turn a cactus inside-out, all its needles are stabbing its flesh. That's how I feel. I need to use my "needles..." Metaphor Fail"
I'm going to say this theory doesn't properly describe my emotional state. I'm actually going with the "Drug Addict Theory."
Now before anyone goes and freaks because I'm on drugs, I'm not on drugs. Just legal ones. But the idea behind a drug addict is that they are constantly searching for the next high. And each time they "get high" they need more of the drug to attain that emotional gratification. The mechanics lies in that the body prodcues less of its anti-pain chemical when it sense the fake stuff so as you use more, you need more.
But in my case, I am constantly looking for the thing that will provide me with a deep, meaningful connection. That's why I've trouble listening to a song all the way through! I'm not finding that emotional high (which isn't really a high...more like a longing...). I keep wanting to hear that perfect song that will sum up my emotions (like Safeguard to Paradise did, Utopia did, Hotel Paper did, Pale did), but I'm not finding it so I don't want to listen to anything.
I can't write until I regain that "longing." I usually get that feeling from writing or at least thinking about writing...but also from observing...think the "fountain observation." I'm trying to remember now...
Oh but I still didn't answer why I'm addict. Probably because I have such -wonderfully- high expectations for myself. Everytime, I create something, I want the next thing to be better. Every time I feel, I want the next thing to be strong or else I'm a failure. Now I'm going to summon the rollarcoaster analogy...except I think they're numerous rollarcoaster metaphors...one is kinda original...one is cliche. Like life comes with ups and downs...like the bumps on a rollarcoaster!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
On My Mind.
Everything that plagues my mind right now. In no praticular order or explanation.
Why do I feel compelled to listen to Green Day and Evanescence, music that I starting liking about five years ago?
Why can't I write? I have all these contradicting thoughts on my mind. It should be perfect for endless creation.
No. I'm running from something. I'm not seeing the full picture.
I imagine myself running through an electrical maze -blind maybe or at least, stupid so every turn looks exactly the same. I charge in one direction until I hit the wall and get shocked. Withering in pain, I find a new direction. I bounced off walls, hurting and blinded by my rage. I only know where I'm going in life because all other directions cause hurt. I'm not chosing my path; I'm simply avoiding the pain, taking the road of least resistance.
I remember I used to lie in bed at night and listen to much. Truly feel the music.
I need to climb a mountain, but the only rope strong enough to survive the weight and rubbing is locked away.
I need to slay a demon, but I don't have the necesary weapon.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE IMAGE IN THIS PUZZLE IS SUPPOSED TO BE BECAUSE ALL THE CRUCIAL PIECES ARE MISSING.
Today I burnt my the bottom of my hair because I let it touch the hot BBQ while I was turning off the propane tank. I also ripped two of my favorite t-shirts because I didn't realize the laundry basket had a hole in it, and I was dragging it along the pavement.
Oh remember how I went through that phrase were I felt bad because I wasn't "as good" as Simone? Yeah..Oh I'm not even going to type this confession out because it is so ridiculous.
Why do I feel compelled to listen to Green Day and Evanescence, music that I starting liking about five years ago?
Why can't I write? I have all these contradicting thoughts on my mind. It should be perfect for endless creation.
No. I'm running from something. I'm not seeing the full picture.
I imagine myself running through an electrical maze -blind maybe or at least, stupid so every turn looks exactly the same. I charge in one direction until I hit the wall and get shocked. Withering in pain, I find a new direction. I bounced off walls, hurting and blinded by my rage. I only know where I'm going in life because all other directions cause hurt. I'm not chosing my path; I'm simply avoiding the pain, taking the road of least resistance.
I remember I used to lie in bed at night and listen to much. Truly feel the music.
I need to climb a mountain, but the only rope strong enough to survive the weight and rubbing is locked away.
I need to slay a demon, but I don't have the necesary weapon.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE IMAGE IN THIS PUZZLE IS SUPPOSED TO BE BECAUSE ALL THE CRUCIAL PIECES ARE MISSING.
Today I burnt my the bottom of my hair because I let it touch the hot BBQ while I was turning off the propane tank. I also ripped two of my favorite t-shirts because I didn't realize the laundry basket had a hole in it, and I was dragging it along the pavement.
Oh remember how I went through that phrase were I felt bad because I wasn't "as good" as Simone? Yeah..Oh I'm not even going to type this confession out because it is so ridiculous.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Innocence.
Hmmm. I remember standing in my old kitchen thinking "I'm glad I live in the time period I do. There aren't any wars or anything scary." Tnat was before 9/11, before I knew anything about current events...We've been locked into what seems like endless wars since I was in grade school. Most people just don't think about the wars on a daily basis though unless war touches your life- not like with WWII were propaganda and homefront efforts had to be everywhere.
Of course, I was a very young in this scene I remember. Clinton was definitely still president. It's crap that I had to grow up with the shitty president ever in office. I was in college by the time we were free from that shit.
According to the Mayan Calender, the world is going to end at the end of 2012. Looking around, I sort of believe it. It seems suddenly there are earthquakes, hurricanes and other natural disasters occuring much more frequently. And people making bad decisions...yes, I'm looking at you, BP, with your ZERO dollars spent on oil clean-up research. Don't think I'm not scared of my own mortality, the fragility of all human life.
I know it's my natural inclination to believe people are good, that the world is a beautiful place, but through-out my life I've always been border-line paranoid- maybe because I lost all sense of security due to "family" issues as a child or maybe I'm just a very sensitive person.
There was a period during junior high when I was afraid to sleep at night because I was convinced there was going to a nuclear attack.
I remember visiting the memorial in OK City for the bombing of the Government Building. I was maybe ten. That was tramatizing. I couldn't comprehend such violence, such death and destruction. I couldn't get that image out of my head for a very long time.
My family also visited every nuclear war musuem we could...even visited an old missile silo. More trauma. I remember seeing a recreated bomb shelter with its rusted canned goods and scary equipment. Couldn't sleep for awhile after that trip either.
Moral of the story: Don't take small, overly sensitive children to traumatizing historical sites. No, I'm very glad I'm not ignorant. I don't always feel safe, and I do have my lingering paranoias (if anyone remembers how I wasn't going to fly). Considering all the places I've been, all I've been exposed to, I should be a lot more intelligent than I am. I should know more, but honestly, until very recently, I didn't really care. I was apathetic (okay, okay, I was a child).
Sometimes, I wish I could relive my life and make better choices. Start devoting all my efforts to being smart from a much earlier age, care more about school...Since those things were never what I was as a child. I was into fairy tales (think Final Fantasy). I sought comfort in fantasy. I've always fled into a fantasy world, whether it be an obsession such as television or video games or my own thoughts.
Let's quote my once favorite song. "I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge/ The nightmare I built my own world to escape." Now I have to pause Utopia to listen to Imaginary. As much as I want to deny it, this song still describes me. I avoid Evanescence like the plague...yet today at the gym, I paused my ipod when "My Immortal" came on the radio. Too many emotions. Imaginary. Hello. My Immortal. Four years ago. Sometimes, I forget that before WT empowered me, she saved my life. When I think about what Sin told my parents about me "Amy should have worked with others; she was holding her back." I want to tell Sin the truth...that I couldn't have survived alone at that point in my life. I can now. Incidentally, now I'm also an English major.
I avoid everything that I was in my past like video games because I need to think that stuff is all immature, and I am grown-up now, but honestly, my past is a part of me. The words I wanted to tell her that night were "I'll Reach You." Because the part of me you created will always be with me. I often wonder if you remember our inside jokes, what you tell people. I shouldn't still think of you, but I do. Because I'm an overly sensitive person. And you "saved" me. I will never forget even if the memory also remind me of my own failure and weaknesses.
69 strikes again! I'm a combination of reality and fantasy.
Of course, I was a very young in this scene I remember. Clinton was definitely still president. It's crap that I had to grow up with the shitty president ever in office. I was in college by the time we were free from that shit.
According to the Mayan Calender, the world is going to end at the end of 2012. Looking around, I sort of believe it. It seems suddenly there are earthquakes, hurricanes and other natural disasters occuring much more frequently. And people making bad decisions...yes, I'm looking at you, BP, with your ZERO dollars spent on oil clean-up research. Don't think I'm not scared of my own mortality, the fragility of all human life.
I know it's my natural inclination to believe people are good, that the world is a beautiful place, but through-out my life I've always been border-line paranoid- maybe because I lost all sense of security due to "family" issues as a child or maybe I'm just a very sensitive person.
There was a period during junior high when I was afraid to sleep at night because I was convinced there was going to a nuclear attack.
I remember visiting the memorial in OK City for the bombing of the Government Building. I was maybe ten. That was tramatizing. I couldn't comprehend such violence, such death and destruction. I couldn't get that image out of my head for a very long time.
My family also visited every nuclear war musuem we could...even visited an old missile silo. More trauma. I remember seeing a recreated bomb shelter with its rusted canned goods and scary equipment. Couldn't sleep for awhile after that trip either.
Moral of the story: Don't take small, overly sensitive children to traumatizing historical sites. No, I'm very glad I'm not ignorant. I don't always feel safe, and I do have my lingering paranoias (if anyone remembers how I wasn't going to fly). Considering all the places I've been, all I've been exposed to, I should be a lot more intelligent than I am. I should know more, but honestly, until very recently, I didn't really care. I was apathetic (okay, okay, I was a child).
Sometimes, I wish I could relive my life and make better choices. Start devoting all my efforts to being smart from a much earlier age, care more about school...Since those things were never what I was as a child. I was into fairy tales (think Final Fantasy). I sought comfort in fantasy. I've always fled into a fantasy world, whether it be an obsession such as television or video games or my own thoughts.
Let's quote my once favorite song. "I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge/ The nightmare I built my own world to escape." Now I have to pause Utopia to listen to Imaginary. As much as I want to deny it, this song still describes me. I avoid Evanescence like the plague...yet today at the gym, I paused my ipod when "My Immortal" came on the radio. Too many emotions. Imaginary. Hello. My Immortal. Four years ago. Sometimes, I forget that before WT empowered me, she saved my life. When I think about what Sin told my parents about me "Amy should have worked with others; she was holding her back." I want to tell Sin the truth...that I couldn't have survived alone at that point in my life. I can now. Incidentally, now I'm also an English major.
I avoid everything that I was in my past like video games because I need to think that stuff is all immature, and I am grown-up now, but honestly, my past is a part of me. The words I wanted to tell her that night were "I'll Reach You." Because the part of me you created will always be with me. I often wonder if you remember our inside jokes, what you tell people. I shouldn't still think of you, but I do. Because I'm an overly sensitive person. And you "saved" me. I will never forget even if the memory also remind me of my own failure and weaknesses.
69 strikes again! I'm a combination of reality and fantasy.
Words...
I'd write and write, but I'm ashamed of the words I would type. I'm afraid to see these sentences take form, the sentences that come from my own heart.
I'm ashamed of my own life- my interests, my beliefs, my dreams, my choices. I'm scared to anything because of this shame...especially scared to tell anyone what I'm doing.
In other news, 1200 birds have died. Day 70 of the OIL DISASTER.
And my ps2 doesn't work anymore. I guess, I wrecked it trying to force it play European DVDS. Hell, I just wanted to see if WT looked any different on a HD TV.
My shoulder looks like a Polish flag because I was outside during the peak hours of the sun yesterday. It was raining when I left so I was worried about an umbrella instead of sunblock.
I wonder if other people think as much as I do...I mean do they have as many different thoughts cross their mind that they find necesarry to record. Like I'm the idiot who sits around all day writing their entire lives down.
Why is my life important? Important to me? If it's just like everyone else's...I mean I want to just devote my life to doing greater good...I don't care about me until I notice how everyone else is better than me...How I really am nothing.
I'm ashamed of my own life- my interests, my beliefs, my dreams, my choices. I'm scared to anything because of this shame...especially scared to tell anyone what I'm doing.
In other news, 1200 birds have died. Day 70 of the OIL DISASTER.
And my ps2 doesn't work anymore. I guess, I wrecked it trying to force it play European DVDS. Hell, I just wanted to see if WT looked any different on a HD TV.
My shoulder looks like a Polish flag because I was outside during the peak hours of the sun yesterday. It was raining when I left so I was worried about an umbrella instead of sunblock.
I wonder if other people think as much as I do...I mean do they have as many different thoughts cross their mind that they find necesarry to record. Like I'm the idiot who sits around all day writing their entire lives down.
Why is my life important? Important to me? If it's just like everyone else's...I mean I want to just devote my life to doing greater good...I don't care about me until I notice how everyone else is better than me...How I really am nothing.
Committment?
Perhaps of all the things I've been accusing myself of fearing lately, the biggest culprit is committment. That is to say I'm afraid of being stuck on a single path with no other options and having to face the reality of the decision. Seeing it through so to speak. I've always thought "what if something better comes along..." Then I end up with nothing. It's depressing.
Like at this very moment in time I'm completely unsure if I should take this GRE Prep Class in July. Because yes, it is a little early, maybe...But it's the only time I have. No way would taking it during the fall semester be a good idea since I'm working two nights a week and have a full class schedule at right now at least two activity committments...so bad idea. And after that I'll be in Norway until I need to apply to Grad school. Oh god. No wonder my stomach constantly hurts...I want to talk to my friend about this decision...talk to her the way we do during the semester. All those epic conversation we had...Oh, do I really miss my school friends.
Then there's my complete and total inability to write. It's a disaster! Actually, it's a mess...I'm saving the word disaster for the OIL DISASTER. Oi. Maybe I'm just trying to write the wrong thing...Or maybe I don't want to draw myself into a big epic adventure...Same with why I feel like playing a handheld game is less of a committment than playing a console game. And the internet is the least committment of all. Also biggest waste of time in some cases...when I'm just checking the same sights over and over and honestly, nothing has changed at all. Briliant.
Then there was my fear of creating a resume or going on a trip. Maybe I'm terrified of what others will say, that I won't be good enough, that'll I'll see the truth. My reluctance to work...my reluctance to do anything but watch television. Oh walrus, this is a disaster! Walrus<3 *sigh*
I chastise others for passivity, but I'm the same. I'm mostly talk. I mean I'll always be mostly talk because I want to be a writer. But in that case, I need to scream, need to have others hear my voice.
Hell on the subject of committment, I've scared to even call someone my "best friend." Because that's placing a lot of emotion on a single person, a single person who might not care as much. Like she didn't. Way to fuck me over, Alex, really. It takes a lot of apathy to hurt someone like me, someone who was already so damn fragile. Even if the hurt me caused each other was already equal (which it isn't...) you would have been worse for the simple reason that you hurt someone who was well, YOU of all people knew what comes next. So thank you.
I have to slash down the indecision and do something. Whatever that something is...
Like at this very moment in time I'm completely unsure if I should take this GRE Prep Class in July. Because yes, it is a little early, maybe...But it's the only time I have. No way would taking it during the fall semester be a good idea since I'm working two nights a week and have a full class schedule at right now at least two activity committments...so bad idea. And after that I'll be in Norway until I need to apply to Grad school. Oh god. No wonder my stomach constantly hurts...I want to talk to my friend about this decision...talk to her the way we do during the semester. All those epic conversation we had...Oh, do I really miss my school friends.
Then there's my complete and total inability to write. It's a disaster! Actually, it's a mess...I'm saving the word disaster for the OIL DISASTER. Oi. Maybe I'm just trying to write the wrong thing...Or maybe I don't want to draw myself into a big epic adventure...Same with why I feel like playing a handheld game is less of a committment than playing a console game. And the internet is the least committment of all. Also biggest waste of time in some cases...when I'm just checking the same sights over and over and honestly, nothing has changed at all. Briliant.
Then there was my fear of creating a resume or going on a trip. Maybe I'm terrified of what others will say, that I won't be good enough, that'll I'll see the truth. My reluctance to work...my reluctance to do anything but watch television. Oh walrus, this is a disaster! Walrus<3 *sigh*
I chastise others for passivity, but I'm the same. I'm mostly talk. I mean I'll always be mostly talk because I want to be a writer. But in that case, I need to scream, need to have others hear my voice.
Hell on the subject of committment, I've scared to even call someone my "best friend." Because that's placing a lot of emotion on a single person, a single person who might not care as much. Like she didn't. Way to fuck me over, Alex, really. It takes a lot of apathy to hurt someone like me, someone who was already so damn fragile. Even if the hurt me caused each other was already equal (which it isn't...) you would have been worse for the simple reason that you hurt someone who was well, YOU of all people knew what comes next. So thank you.
I have to slash down the indecision and do something. Whatever that something is...
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Simple.
So I have been calling myself an intellectual (that is to say I love learning, reading, thinking, understanding, observing, listening and such...yeah, Sin I guess I am a quiet nerd and do live in my own little world) and I think I am on to something with it. It explains why I am so much better at THINKING than ACTING. I swear with all the thoughts and ideas I've devised, I could have done so much if I acted on everything. But I did. I never have, and I've blamed it on fear of showing off who I am, fear of not being good enough. Whatever. I've said in the past that "we won't do something until we are ready." How come I have never been ready?
As I sit here enjoying my summer, by uh, doing nothing, I begin to understand something about myself...That I am an overly simple people. Simple in my infitie complexities. But that is another story. This story is about how I would be happy simply watching television, simply sitting in the sun enjoying the beauty of the world. Until I noticed dusk in the summer, the setting sun on Lake Michigan, I forgot those simple joys...I've often wondered what my dream is truly, and deep within my heart I know this to be true: My dream is to find a "soulmate" who will always be by my side, and live someplace remote with that person...so everyday it is me and them lying on the beach, joking, being in love. I just want to be happy. That's what I said so long ago...I am not a fighter. At all. I'm not aggresive, not as a driver, not as a person. I fought to remain "alive" my whole childhood, and I don't want that life anymore. I think this desire for peace is the only reason I ever want school to end. I don't like doing anything. I enjoy exploring my own thoughts. At school, it's like an act. I'm funny, busy, important, whatever. I have all these lofty "goals in life." But those goals aren't me. Yes, they represent my beliefs...
Or maybe I'm "just not ready yet..." maybe I'm gathering the pieces from all my random obsessions and regrouping...slowly preparing for the war I want to wage.
As I sit here enjoying my summer, by uh, doing nothing, I begin to understand something about myself...That I am an overly simple people. Simple in my infitie complexities. But that is another story. This story is about how I would be happy simply watching television, simply sitting in the sun enjoying the beauty of the world. Until I noticed dusk in the summer, the setting sun on Lake Michigan, I forgot those simple joys...I've often wondered what my dream is truly, and deep within my heart I know this to be true: My dream is to find a "soulmate" who will always be by my side, and live someplace remote with that person...so everyday it is me and them lying on the beach, joking, being in love. I just want to be happy. That's what I said so long ago...I am not a fighter. At all. I'm not aggresive, not as a driver, not as a person. I fought to remain "alive" my whole childhood, and I don't want that life anymore. I think this desire for peace is the only reason I ever want school to end. I don't like doing anything. I enjoy exploring my own thoughts. At school, it's like an act. I'm funny, busy, important, whatever. I have all these lofty "goals in life." But those goals aren't me. Yes, they represent my beliefs...
Or maybe I'm "just not ready yet..." maybe I'm gathering the pieces from all my random obsessions and regrouping...slowly preparing for the war I want to wage.
Yesterday.
Also known as the next adventure in a week that stimulated me far more than I wanted...or not. I said earlier that I do love summer, and what is summer for if not doing stuff.
But honestly, yesterday was sort of an interesting day. In the good news: I got to go Downtown (yes, again) to the Taste of Chicago. Bad News: It's a long story...
That goes something like this: My mother was going into the city to meet in person a guy she had been talking to on the phone from an online dating site. I did push her to meet him. I don't know why. Maybe because I want to see her with someone because after learning that she had two failed marriages, I want her to be happy. Was it a good idea? Perhaps...Shows she has some self-confidence. Well, within five minutes my mother storms away from the guy because he said something along the lines of "you're a disappointment/ not what I expected" (whatever jerks say). Kathy and I left when she first met him and went to get pizza from the Taste, and we barely started eating when she begged us to return.
I don't get it. It just palin, old makes me very sad. I don't think my mother is unattractive at all. And for the most part, I think she has a good personality. Yes, she was more insecurities than me. But she didn't deserve this "rejection." Now she is going to use this experience as an excuse to think badly about herself again, to run back to the people she has unhealthy relationships with (think sister and a friend). Meanwhile, I'm begging my mother to stop digging herself into a futile hole and use this time to do something to improve hersself...join a fuckin' bookclub or a grassroots political instead...I was just too upset to string thoughts to together very well. movement (*cough*socialist*cough*) No. I'm not sure if I'm even do that, and lately, socialism has seemed pretty damn appealing.
I actually don't think I wrote about Tuesday when she told me about "that." I wrote to my friend about it...I was just so upset. What point was I trying to make here? Argh, I don't recall...mhm. I should create a post about Swedish Days.
What I really don't get is this idea of 'phsyical attraction." Dang, I must truly be an intellectual, but I don't think like that. I just imagine relationships as the conversations you can have with that person. When I look at myself, I see someone who is not pretty. I have never considered myself pretty- not when I used to wear baggy clothes, because my face is too big and pimply, not now...even when sometimes, I think I might be cute. I wonder who will want to be with me...This "me" who doesn't fit in anywhere. I was talking to Kathy about how I thought I never quite fit in with my highschool friends, and you know, she said she felt the same way. Like she was imposing upon "our" group. What a silly word group is...I was clinging to Alex because I needed her to help me find "myself." Alex always like everyone else more than me (I'm probably wrong about that...) And well, shit, I don't care. This post was not about them.
Anyway, the Taste was fun. I hadn't been there since I was a small child, and Kathy hadn't been there at all. I got to eat pizza and ice cream, which is utopia to me pretty much. Even had enough credits to get pizza for this morning. So this weekend, I ate little else but pizza and ice cream. Amazing.
But honestly, yesterday was sort of an interesting day. In the good news: I got to go Downtown (yes, again) to the Taste of Chicago. Bad News: It's a long story...
That goes something like this: My mother was going into the city to meet in person a guy she had been talking to on the phone from an online dating site. I did push her to meet him. I don't know why. Maybe because I want to see her with someone because after learning that she had two failed marriages, I want her to be happy. Was it a good idea? Perhaps...Shows she has some self-confidence. Well, within five minutes my mother storms away from the guy because he said something along the lines of "you're a disappointment/ not what I expected" (whatever jerks say). Kathy and I left when she first met him and went to get pizza from the Taste, and we barely started eating when she begged us to return.
I don't get it. It just palin, old makes me very sad. I don't think my mother is unattractive at all. And for the most part, I think she has a good personality. Yes, she was more insecurities than me. But she didn't deserve this "rejection." Now she is going to use this experience as an excuse to think badly about herself again, to run back to the people she has unhealthy relationships with (think sister and a friend). Meanwhile, I'm begging my mother to stop digging herself into a futile hole and use this time to do something to improve hersself...join a fuckin' bookclub or a grassroots political instead...I was just too upset to string thoughts to together very well. movement (*cough*socialist*cough*) No. I'm not sure if I'm even do that, and lately, socialism has seemed pretty damn appealing.
I actually don't think I wrote about Tuesday when she told me about "that." I wrote to my friend about it...I was just so upset. What point was I trying to make here? Argh, I don't recall...mhm. I should create a post about Swedish Days.
What I really don't get is this idea of 'phsyical attraction." Dang, I must truly be an intellectual, but I don't think like that. I just imagine relationships as the conversations you can have with that person. When I look at myself, I see someone who is not pretty. I have never considered myself pretty- not when I used to wear baggy clothes, because my face is too big and pimply, not now...even when sometimes, I think I might be cute. I wonder who will want to be with me...This "me" who doesn't fit in anywhere. I was talking to Kathy about how I thought I never quite fit in with my highschool friends, and you know, she said she felt the same way. Like she was imposing upon "our" group. What a silly word group is...I was clinging to Alex because I needed her to help me find "myself." Alex always like everyone else more than me (I'm probably wrong about that...) And well, shit, I don't care. This post was not about them.
Anyway, the Taste was fun. I hadn't been there since I was a small child, and Kathy hadn't been there at all. I got to eat pizza and ice cream, which is utopia to me pretty much. Even had enough credits to get pizza for this morning. So this weekend, I ate little else but pizza and ice cream. Amazing.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Beach.
This afternoon I went to the beach at the Indiana Dunes!
Now I have a lot of memories involving this beach ranging from the first time I went there with my family and Kathy, when I didn't even know there was a beach there. I thought it was just dunes of sand. But hell was I happy when I saw water. I went swimming in my mesh shorts and black t-shirt. Then later that summer (three years ago), I went back with the intention of swimming. That was the great "Amy almost got sent to a jail in Indiana for arguing with a lifeguard incident" See they kick you out of the water at 6pm, but I refused to get out so I was like "dude I don't think you own this water so you can't kick me out!" Plus, I wanted swim out to the boyee, but they went on the PA and said "if you find yourself swimming out to a boyee, please come back...Of course, I didn't listen and quite swimming until I saw a boat come at me. When I got out of the water, I had the spat with the lifegaurd. Little did I know, all I had to do was wait for the staff to leave and then I could go back into the water further along the shore...Ahhh, to be 17 again. My friend also found a random on that trip to the beach. Though I might add that. Oh and when I was picking my friends up for the trip, the car I was driving tried to kill me. It stalled during a left turn. Yay! I crashed into a pile of branches. Good times.
The next time I went to the Dunes (actually a different part of the lakeshore but same idea) was the best field trip ever. Fall senior year...AP Environmental Science field trip. We went to a bog and the Dunes. I got to carry the stick at the bog. Trust me, carrying a giant wooden stick was amongst my top dreams when I was 17! Plus we rolled down the sand dunes and took a video...I wonder if I have the pictures on my other computer...Couldn't swim then, but I didn't care. That day was great...it must have been if I still remember it. I loved that class, the teacher and that two of my -then, if the case of her- best friends were there.
But hell, I'm talking about happy times here and honestly, I'm trying to talk about today...But last summer, the best day was that BEAUTIFUL SUNDAY at the Dunes<3 Sand Cheetos! Heh.
Moving on, so today we left at around 4pm, which is not a good idea when you have over an hour drive...in rush hour =_= But that's just how I roll. Plus I had to buy a new swimsuit and Kathy had work until 2:30...So we were all psyched to be driving on the expressway with the windows rolled down and listening to Rise Against. Then by a tollbooth, we hit a traffic jam...I really need an ipass because I'm always paying ridiculously high tolls...(trolls...that sit under bridges and demand tolls...)That only minorly burst my bubble...cuz then we got to Indiana...where we certainly didn't buy any fireworks <.< >.> Nope. Not in the least.
Then I decided that I wasn't going to buy gas quite yet since my warning light wasn't on. I was hoping my could make it to tnhe beach, but I mean I didn't know it was as far as it was...So we had to get off the extremely crowded road a second time. I was yelled at for not being more aggressive at the gas station! Huzzah! I'm just not about to fight with someone over who goes first.
I feel like a damn hypocrite driving a car. I hate oil companies and oil dependence...yet here I am driving a car that runs on a lot of gas. I don't know if I mentioned this previously, but a few days ago (now more like a week) I was thinking about how I wanted my own car (for freedom purposes...)...then I realized taht millions of other people who share that same desire with me is the reason oil is spewing into the Gulf right now. Looks like I don't love the pelicans as much as I say...
I also took the opportunity while we were getting gas to explain that I am not necesarily boycotting BP. OH NO, NOW I'M REALLY A HYPOCRITE! *runz in circles* Confession: My father has work because BP goes to IBM for it's -whatever he does needs-. So yeah, my family has money -rather indirectly- because of BP's existence. I'M SO SORRY, MR. PELICAN! I HATE MY FATHER TOO!!! I SWEAR. But honestly, as much as I hate BP for killing things, lying about killing things, not caring caring that things got killed and the works, I'm also mad at the government for not regulating the stupid companies. I expect big business to WANT MONEY, but I believed in the Democrats in office. I really did. I say once again: I am soooo upset about this oil disaster. So, so, sooooo distraught. It's mind boggling. I so wish it wasn't true...When interrogated by Congress (at the same time, as the incident where the senator apologized to BP, which is just LMAO...*JUMPS OUT WINDOW*) it was the CEO of another oild company that admitted none of them have any plan for fixing what they fucked up. Oh, they never imagined a pipe could burst...Or if they did, they decided they'd cross that bridge when they got there...Well, fuck we slammed into the bridge and now its burning into ashes and all the oil is killing things! It's awful. Fuckin' awful. I could rant for hours about how upset I am. HOURS. UPSET. ME. GRRRR. Which is why I've taken solice in watching MSNBC lately. Because they actually care. And the other people watching care. And perhaps enough people care...*cries*
I think I need to huggle my sheep plushie. Or my kiwi<3 Simone den Kiwi. Oh how much you mean to me...
Where was I. Oh, it's the government, the people's fault for continuing our dependence on oil. It needs to end. Enough people have died. Enough "caribbean walruses have died."
But just like apparently the people living in the developing countries who big corporations employ for atrosously low wages are apparently "lesser" than -us...whoever the fuck -us- is...so are the "caribbean walruses." Like hello, you're fuckin' HURTING PEOPLE, HURTING OUR WORLD, HURTING INNOCENT LIFE THAT HAS ONLY HELPED US. WHY? SO YOU CAN MAKE MONEY? WHO THE FUCK CARES IF YOU HAVE MONEY? ENJOYING THE BEACH AND LOVING ALL THE AWKWARDLY ADORABLE SPECIES OF BIRDS AROUND IS WORTH MORE THAN MONEY. BUT NO, YOU TOOK THAT AWAY FROM PEOPLE.
I WAS STANDING ON THE BEACH AT THE DUNES TODAY THINKING ABOUT WHAT I WOULD FEEL LIKE IF THE SAND IN FRONT OF ME WAS COVERED IN OIL. I WAS AFRAID TO SEE SAND AND WATER, AFRAID I WOULD CRY THINKING ABOUT THE HEINOUS HELL THAT IS -WAS- SOME OF OUR MOST WONDERFUL SHORELINE. I LOVE THE FUCKIN' BEACH. EVERYONE LOVES THE BEACH. PEOPLE LOVE THE OCEAN FOR REASONS OTHER THAN DIGGING FOR OIL. BUT NOW THAT ENDS...ENDS WITH THE LIVES OF THE PELICANS...THERE AREN'T FUCKIN' WALRUSES IN THE GULF. I WISH THERE WERE SO THEY'D SWIM OVER TO YOUR CORPORATE BOAT AND STAB YOU. NATURE STRICKS BACK. BUT ONCE AGAIN, IT WAS OUR GOV. THAT ALLOWED YOU TO DRILL WITHOUT READING ABOUT THE WALRUSES. IT WOULD BE FUNNY IF IT WASN'T A TRAGEDY. NOOO, NO. NOT EVEN A TRAGEDY. UNREAL. IT'S UNREAL. IT'S A NIGHTMARE.
The Alantic Ocean was never my favorite ocean (yeah, I'm so nutty I have a favorite ocean...), but it's a fuckin' ocean. Those oceans are the reason we are here. BEING GREEDY. KILLING. HATING. DRVING OUR FUCKIN' CARS WITHOUT A FUCKIN' CLUE. I'll never forget how while I was flying out of NY last fall, I saw the sun glisten in a cone-shape on the river...I think I saw the ocean...but regardless, there is nothing more beautiful than water sparkling...
I was standing on the dunes earlier talking to Kathy watching the imperfect surface of Lake Michigan...Just admiring that as the water got close to shore it looked less squished together and more spread out...-insert some kewl metaphor about wavelength here, but I'm not going to because I'm too pissed to think in metaphors...I'm living in realiy right now- How some patches of water as a lighter blue and occasionally, a fish jumps up. How the trees along the dunes are all different shades of green, how a few trees randomly had a few red leaves even in summer. Don't you think any of this isn't even the slightest bit miraculous? WHAT ABOUT SAND? ALL THSOE GRANUALS DIDN'T GET THERE OVER NIGHT! IT TOOK TIME. IT TOOK TIME FOR THOSE TREES TO GROW. FOR THE -insert name of plant that grows in the first stage of succession...learned about that in environmental science class, heh- to work it's magic. AND HERE WE COME ALONG AND RUIN NATURE'S HARMONY. WHAT GIVES US THAT RIGHT? CUZ WE CAN? WELL, WE ALL CAN DO A LOT OF THINGS RIGHT NOW. BUT WE DON'T. WHY? BECAUSE IT IS WRONG. WRONG. WRONG TO RUIN THINGS, TO KILL. WE ALL KNOW THAT.
AS I TYPE THIS OIL IS SPEWING, A TROPICAL DEPRESSION IS HEADING TOWARD THE GULF, BIRDS ARE DYING. I know there are other species out there, but I'm a self-professed bird-a-holic. Walruses are my second favorite. Except I only adore the real kind...not the imaginary, we're too cheap to change our impact statement kind.
Ahhh, Forsaken. Good ole Within Temptation.
The world can exist without us; we cannot exist without the world. One day, the world will forsake us if we aren't kinder to it.
*sigh* Like I said earlier, I can rant all night about this...But what would it solve? NOTHING. THOUGHTS, WISHES, PROMISES, PLANS DON'T MEAN ANYTHING UNLESS WE ACT ON THEM. I WANT TO START A FUCKIN' RIOT RIGHT NOW. GET PEOPLE PISSED OFF. PEOPLE SHOULD BE PISSED OFF.
Yeah, I still love you, humanity. But I am extremely enraged right now...
Now I have a lot of memories involving this beach ranging from the first time I went there with my family and Kathy, when I didn't even know there was a beach there. I thought it was just dunes of sand. But hell was I happy when I saw water. I went swimming in my mesh shorts and black t-shirt. Then later that summer (three years ago), I went back with the intention of swimming. That was the great "Amy almost got sent to a jail in Indiana for arguing with a lifeguard incident" See they kick you out of the water at 6pm, but I refused to get out so I was like "dude I don't think you own this water so you can't kick me out!" Plus, I wanted swim out to the boyee, but they went on the PA and said "if you find yourself swimming out to a boyee, please come back...Of course, I didn't listen and quite swimming until I saw a boat come at me. When I got out of the water, I had the spat with the lifegaurd. Little did I know, all I had to do was wait for the staff to leave and then I could go back into the water further along the shore...Ahhh, to be 17 again. My friend also found a random on that trip to the beach. Though I might add that. Oh and when I was picking my friends up for the trip, the car I was driving tried to kill me. It stalled during a left turn. Yay! I crashed into a pile of branches. Good times.
The next time I went to the Dunes (actually a different part of the lakeshore but same idea) was the best field trip ever. Fall senior year...AP Environmental Science field trip. We went to a bog and the Dunes. I got to carry the stick at the bog. Trust me, carrying a giant wooden stick was amongst my top dreams when I was 17! Plus we rolled down the sand dunes and took a video...I wonder if I have the pictures on my other computer...Couldn't swim then, but I didn't care. That day was great...it must have been if I still remember it. I loved that class, the teacher and that two of my -then, if the case of her- best friends were there.
But hell, I'm talking about happy times here and honestly, I'm trying to talk about today...But last summer, the best day was that BEAUTIFUL SUNDAY at the Dunes<3 Sand Cheetos! Heh.
Moving on, so today we left at around 4pm, which is not a good idea when you have over an hour drive...in rush hour =_= But that's just how I roll. Plus I had to buy a new swimsuit and Kathy had work until 2:30...So we were all psyched to be driving on the expressway with the windows rolled down and listening to Rise Against. Then by a tollbooth, we hit a traffic jam...I really need an ipass because I'm always paying ridiculously high tolls...(trolls...that sit under bridges and demand tolls...)That only minorly burst my bubble...cuz then we got to Indiana...where we certainly didn't buy any fireworks <.< >.> Nope. Not in the least.
Then I decided that I wasn't going to buy gas quite yet since my warning light wasn't on. I was hoping my could make it to tnhe beach, but I mean I didn't know it was as far as it was...So we had to get off the extremely crowded road a second time. I was yelled at for not being more aggressive at the gas station! Huzzah! I'm just not about to fight with someone over who goes first.
I feel like a damn hypocrite driving a car. I hate oil companies and oil dependence...yet here I am driving a car that runs on a lot of gas. I don't know if I mentioned this previously, but a few days ago (now more like a week) I was thinking about how I wanted my own car (for freedom purposes...)...then I realized taht millions of other people who share that same desire with me is the reason oil is spewing into the Gulf right now. Looks like I don't love the pelicans as much as I say...
I also took the opportunity while we were getting gas to explain that I am not necesarily boycotting BP. OH NO, NOW I'M REALLY A HYPOCRITE! *runz in circles* Confession: My father has work because BP goes to IBM for it's -whatever he does needs-. So yeah, my family has money -rather indirectly- because of BP's existence. I'M SO SORRY, MR. PELICAN! I HATE MY FATHER TOO!!! I SWEAR. But honestly, as much as I hate BP for killing things, lying about killing things, not caring caring that things got killed and the works, I'm also mad at the government for not regulating the stupid companies. I expect big business to WANT MONEY, but I believed in the Democrats in office. I really did. I say once again: I am soooo upset about this oil disaster. So, so, sooooo distraught. It's mind boggling. I so wish it wasn't true...When interrogated by Congress (at the same time, as the incident where the senator apologized to BP, which is just LMAO...*JUMPS OUT WINDOW*) it was the CEO of another oild company that admitted none of them have any plan for fixing what they fucked up. Oh, they never imagined a pipe could burst...Or if they did, they decided they'd cross that bridge when they got there...Well, fuck we slammed into the bridge and now its burning into ashes and all the oil is killing things! It's awful. Fuckin' awful. I could rant for hours about how upset I am. HOURS. UPSET. ME. GRRRR. Which is why I've taken solice in watching MSNBC lately. Because they actually care. And the other people watching care. And perhaps enough people care...*cries*
I think I need to huggle my sheep plushie. Or my kiwi<3 Simone den Kiwi. Oh how much you mean to me...
Where was I. Oh, it's the government, the people's fault for continuing our dependence on oil. It needs to end. Enough people have died. Enough "caribbean walruses have died."
But just like apparently the people living in the developing countries who big corporations employ for atrosously low wages are apparently "lesser" than -us...whoever the fuck -us- is...so are the "caribbean walruses." Like hello, you're fuckin' HURTING PEOPLE, HURTING OUR WORLD, HURTING INNOCENT LIFE THAT HAS ONLY HELPED US. WHY? SO YOU CAN MAKE MONEY? WHO THE FUCK CARES IF YOU HAVE MONEY? ENJOYING THE BEACH AND LOVING ALL THE AWKWARDLY ADORABLE SPECIES OF BIRDS AROUND IS WORTH MORE THAN MONEY. BUT NO, YOU TOOK THAT AWAY FROM PEOPLE.
I WAS STANDING ON THE BEACH AT THE DUNES TODAY THINKING ABOUT WHAT I WOULD FEEL LIKE IF THE SAND IN FRONT OF ME WAS COVERED IN OIL. I WAS AFRAID TO SEE SAND AND WATER, AFRAID I WOULD CRY THINKING ABOUT THE HEINOUS HELL THAT IS -WAS- SOME OF OUR MOST WONDERFUL SHORELINE. I LOVE THE FUCKIN' BEACH. EVERYONE LOVES THE BEACH. PEOPLE LOVE THE OCEAN FOR REASONS OTHER THAN DIGGING FOR OIL. BUT NOW THAT ENDS...ENDS WITH THE LIVES OF THE PELICANS...THERE AREN'T FUCKIN' WALRUSES IN THE GULF. I WISH THERE WERE SO THEY'D SWIM OVER TO YOUR CORPORATE BOAT AND STAB YOU. NATURE STRICKS BACK. BUT ONCE AGAIN, IT WAS OUR GOV. THAT ALLOWED YOU TO DRILL WITHOUT READING ABOUT THE WALRUSES. IT WOULD BE FUNNY IF IT WASN'T A TRAGEDY. NOOO, NO. NOT EVEN A TRAGEDY. UNREAL. IT'S UNREAL. IT'S A NIGHTMARE.
The Alantic Ocean was never my favorite ocean (yeah, I'm so nutty I have a favorite ocean...), but it's a fuckin' ocean. Those oceans are the reason we are here. BEING GREEDY. KILLING. HATING. DRVING OUR FUCKIN' CARS WITHOUT A FUCKIN' CLUE. I'll never forget how while I was flying out of NY last fall, I saw the sun glisten in a cone-shape on the river...I think I saw the ocean...but regardless, there is nothing more beautiful than water sparkling...
I was standing on the dunes earlier talking to Kathy watching the imperfect surface of Lake Michigan...Just admiring that as the water got close to shore it looked less squished together and more spread out...-insert some kewl metaphor about wavelength here, but I'm not going to because I'm too pissed to think in metaphors...I'm living in realiy right now- How some patches of water as a lighter blue and occasionally, a fish jumps up. How the trees along the dunes are all different shades of green, how a few trees randomly had a few red leaves even in summer. Don't you think any of this isn't even the slightest bit miraculous? WHAT ABOUT SAND? ALL THSOE GRANUALS DIDN'T GET THERE OVER NIGHT! IT TOOK TIME. IT TOOK TIME FOR THOSE TREES TO GROW. FOR THE -insert name of plant that grows in the first stage of succession...learned about that in environmental science class, heh- to work it's magic. AND HERE WE COME ALONG AND RUIN NATURE'S HARMONY. WHAT GIVES US THAT RIGHT? CUZ WE CAN? WELL, WE ALL CAN DO A LOT OF THINGS RIGHT NOW. BUT WE DON'T. WHY? BECAUSE IT IS WRONG. WRONG. WRONG TO RUIN THINGS, TO KILL. WE ALL KNOW THAT.
AS I TYPE THIS OIL IS SPEWING, A TROPICAL DEPRESSION IS HEADING TOWARD THE GULF, BIRDS ARE DYING. I know there are other species out there, but I'm a self-professed bird-a-holic. Walruses are my second favorite. Except I only adore the real kind...not the imaginary, we're too cheap to change our impact statement kind.
Ahhh, Forsaken. Good ole Within Temptation.
The world can exist without us; we cannot exist without the world. One day, the world will forsake us if we aren't kinder to it.
*sigh* Like I said earlier, I can rant all night about this...But what would it solve? NOTHING. THOUGHTS, WISHES, PROMISES, PLANS DON'T MEAN ANYTHING UNLESS WE ACT ON THEM. I WANT TO START A FUCKIN' RIOT RIGHT NOW. GET PEOPLE PISSED OFF. PEOPLE SHOULD BE PISSED OFF.
Yeah, I still love you, humanity. But I am extremely enraged right now...
Miyavi
Anyway, last night I went to concert with my friend! (in case you didn't know that from when I answered the question "what do you have to do tomorrow" with "Go to a concert.") The show was Miyavi who, for lack of a better description on my part, is a rocking Japanese guitar guy. I'll provide you with a WIKI link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miyavi
So my friend was like "I'm excited," and I was like "Yeah, I'm excited too!" SO WE LEAVE AT LIKE 3PM FOR A SHOW THAT STARTS AT 7:30PM. Yippppeee! I love lines. So we're all excited driving into the city. For the life of me, I will never understand why you hit rush hour going into the city at 3:30ish? Isn't everyone trying to get home to the suburbs? That's what I always thought, but I have a lot of funny misconceptions...I love driving on expressways with the windows down. It's like uplifting. Yip.
Being the brilliant people were are, we printed out (more like wrote out) directions to this parking garage near House of Blues (the garage is a great deal- 8 dollars for the evening in the city. I use it for all my HOB parking needs). Incidentally, knowing where you are going takes the fun out of going places cuz then you don't get lost in the bottom level of Wacker Drive and have to ask a homeless man directions (it's happened, okay). Getting to HOB was actually quite uneventful. Shame.
Another thing I've always wondered about: why the heck was there a line already like three hours ahead of time? Okay, don't answer that since I know the answer. It's just sorta funny, but not as funny as the people who have been camped out in Hollywood since Sunday waiting for the release party of Eclipse. You'd think with all the stars in LA, there would be plenty of ADDICTIONS counselors around...Okay, that wasn't very nice. Especially since I have no right to judge people for being fans. Even though, contrary to popular belief, I am not a fan. I am a Finn. Hah hah hah.
First hour or so waiting in line was uneventful. Had a nice chat with some "line friends." (quotes because Kathy used the word before me). Then people starting talking about how it was going to rain. I was "yeah, right! that only happens in the movies." Then it starts to drizzle. I'm fine at this point because I am short enough to stand under the sign on the building, which protected me from water early on. I was watching people standing under an umbrella happy under my sign. Then it got windy. And I was getting wet. So Kathy and I huddle under the umbrella of the people behind us. My left shoulder still got wet...and *la gasp* my hair got messed up. and my shoes. I think those poor converse are still wet...But that's not the best part even: I heard rumor that there was TORNADO WARNING!!!! YIPEEEEEEE!!!! Apparently there was a tornado in the western suburbs. That's what I heard at the time. I don't watch the local news...only cable news channels. So I think people freak out. LIKE OMG, A TORNADO IS GOING TO COME WHOOOSHING THROUGH DOWNTOWN CHICAGO AND SPEFICIALLY HIT THE HOUSE OF BLUES!!! YEAH!!!
It could happen.
On Mega-Disasters it happens. When A Super Tornado Hits DownTown Chicago. It was a show on the History Channel a long time ago...Not as depressing as What Happens after Humans, but not as entertaining as...I don't know...something that is really funy. Incidentally the producers of that series didn't like Illinois very much since there was an episode about the faultline near New Madrid and the tornado in downtown...we all died twice in that series...wait, three times cuz thanks to the meteor, everyone died. I think there was also an earthquake in LA cuz I remember the computer footage of the city being destroyed. How...uh...nice? *headdesk*
On the subject of conspriary theories, did anyone else hear that the meteor that caused the climate change that killed the dinos hit in the Gulf of Mexico? Sound familiar? If you didn't want that epi of Mega Disasters you might not have heard that...
The next episode of Mega Disasters was going to be "Mega Disasters: Explosion in an off-shore oil drilling rig" But it got cancelled because the oil indsutry funds the show, and they didn't want the bad publicity. Cuz I'm pretty sure at least one idiot called the Oil Disaster a "natural" disaster...about as natural as this: humans came from nature, and THEY caused it. Oh wait, BP never told us what actually happened...
Okay, I'm going to stop ranting about how truly pissed off I am about this whole incident. Going to leave this here though. It's the Gulf from space... http://bit.ly/aHZFU0
What was I talking about again? Oh yeah. A giant tornado was barreling down on the HOB. I don't know if that ever happened since the guard people finally let us in. Because it took them THAT LONG to clear out the empty hallway and auditorium...uh huh. So we go inside, and we're waiting on the stairs while they are finishing the sound check. Someone around me said they saw Miyavi but you know, I'm too short...I don't think we waited there THAT long...
The real wait came in once we were standing in front of the stage. It was over two hours. One of my least favorite things in life is waiting for bands to play. My feet hurt. And there is only so much conversation to have with the people around you...though let me say this about the crowd: I was impressed by the variety of people there. And the sheer size of the crowd. Lots of people. We were in the center behind like five or so heads...no one toooo tall was in front of me so I could see for the most part. I was kinda hoping he'd come on at 8:30 but hell, no such luck. I figured it was a scam? Like why the hell would anyone from Japan want to come to Chicago...seems less likely than the tornado. At one point, I was going to sit down right there. I have down that while waiting before...but the place wasn't as crowded then. Sadly no Finnish people were invovled, I didn't get to say my favorite line for concerts..."Bring out the Finn."
I don't get why any performer would want to start a show so late. I'd want to do it earlier...get it over with so I can sleep and not have to worry. But we figured he was playing Facebook game backstage...actually he was standing behind an amp the whole time laughing at the fans waiiting for hours...(not really).
A little after 9, Miyavi did come on though. And omg, seeing everyone go nuts was totally worth the wait. Dude, people can scream! I was impressed by the fan-age. I was like 'uh crazy people..." But no, don't get me wrong, Miyavi is kewl. He's got some mad skillz. LIKE HE CAN SPEAK ENGLISH. OMG, I'M SO JEALOUS. I mean don't ask me to tell you any of the songs he played, but the show's energy made up for my slight ignorance. Miyavi just came off as sincerely happy to be there playing for us. So I thank you, Miyavi for being awesome. *runz* I really don't think he's that hot though...Someone around me was saying all these fangirls got mad when he got married last year. like really, WTF. Let the poor -not even that cute- guy be happy.
Oh another thing that pissed me off (or just something that pissed me off since I don't think I mentioned anything pissing me off yet...except the oil disaster, that is.) I heard this girl say: "Best concert ever. A million times better than Dir en Grey (they're a Japanese hard-rock band) ever was" I swear I glared at that person, and as we were walking back to the car, I was like to Kathy 'OMG, THAT'S LIKE COMPARING AN APPLE TO A LEMON...OMG, CAN WE COMPARE APPLES AND LEMONS." Yeah, they're both fruit, and they both have an "e" in them...But really, I don't get why people have to put one band down to express their love for another. I make different categories for stuff so everything can be my favorite. I have my favorite band. Then I have my favorite Finnish band. My favorite band with Simone Simons as the Singer. My favorite American band. My favorite band with a male vocialist. You get the point. If you can guess all of those, you win!
So after the show, I'm really happy. I mean someone else around me did say "It is impossible to be sad at a Miyavi concert." Yes, I do overhear a lot. I like listening to people's conversations, okay. I don't deny being a Creep...although I'd rather be Optimistic. Lmao. I was glad I went, but I was also glad to get off my feet.
It's like after midnight when we get back in the car. The idea: Follow the opposite of the directions. Took us three tries to find I-90. The road isn't labled. U turn, anyone. But the real "adventure" was about to begin *glare* So the exit onto I-55 we need to get back home was closed off. At first we thought there was a ball game cuz we saw fireworks and traffic jams. Then we thought there was an accident since OUR EXIT WAS BLOCKED. But no...so we take the next exit...trying to turn around to take the exit on the other side of the road, but somehow we end up in Chinatown, which was fine because I know the area around there since I have family close by...so I'm like drive down that street cuz I know how to get home from there...Yes, I do, but the plan requires using I-55, which was blocked again. *frustration* So I call my mom who is like 'oh the expressway must have flooded, but I can't tell you why because our power is out." Like wtf, who would have thought the world was ending while we inside the concert? So we have to take Archer (side-street with LOTS of stoplights) home. Bumper to bumper traffic. Crazy Sox fan in front of us. Finally I remember the radio gives news...a radio? what's that? Express was flooded. When we needed it, of course! I never heard that happen before...So it turns out the hour traffic jam on Archer we were in was caused by ONE out of service traffic light. Once we got past that, traffic picks up. Now we're mad. Cuz it's late. We're sorta nervous.And my friend had to get up in like 4 hours. Yeah.
We eventually get home. My power was in fact out. Incidentally the power in the other half of the complex was on, but not our building, completely dark. It came back on within an hour though...not really a big deal.
Highlights of this story: I saw went to a concert. I had fun. WHOA-HOOO!
So my friend was like "I'm excited," and I was like "Yeah, I'm excited too!" SO WE LEAVE AT LIKE 3PM FOR A SHOW THAT STARTS AT 7:30PM. Yippppeee! I love lines. So we're all excited driving into the city. For the life of me, I will never understand why you hit rush hour going into the city at 3:30ish? Isn't everyone trying to get home to the suburbs? That's what I always thought, but I have a lot of funny misconceptions...I love driving on expressways with the windows down. It's like uplifting. Yip.
Being the brilliant people were are, we printed out (more like wrote out) directions to this parking garage near House of Blues (the garage is a great deal- 8 dollars for the evening in the city. I use it for all my HOB parking needs). Incidentally, knowing where you are going takes the fun out of going places cuz then you don't get lost in the bottom level of Wacker Drive and have to ask a homeless man directions (it's happened, okay). Getting to HOB was actually quite uneventful. Shame.
Another thing I've always wondered about: why the heck was there a line already like three hours ahead of time? Okay, don't answer that since I know the answer. It's just sorta funny, but not as funny as the people who have been camped out in Hollywood since Sunday waiting for the release party of Eclipse. You'd think with all the stars in LA, there would be plenty of ADDICTIONS counselors around...Okay, that wasn't very nice. Especially since I have no right to judge people for being fans. Even though, contrary to popular belief, I am not a fan. I am a Finn. Hah hah hah.
First hour or so waiting in line was uneventful. Had a nice chat with some "line friends." (quotes because Kathy used the word before me). Then people starting talking about how it was going to rain. I was "yeah, right! that only happens in the movies." Then it starts to drizzle. I'm fine at this point because I am short enough to stand under the sign on the building, which protected me from water early on. I was watching people standing under an umbrella happy under my sign. Then it got windy. And I was getting wet. So Kathy and I huddle under the umbrella of the people behind us. My left shoulder still got wet...and *la gasp* my hair got messed up. and my shoes. I think those poor converse are still wet...But that's not the best part even: I heard rumor that there was TORNADO WARNING!!!! YIPEEEEEEE!!!! Apparently there was a tornado in the western suburbs. That's what I heard at the time. I don't watch the local news...only cable news channels. So I think people freak out. LIKE OMG, A TORNADO IS GOING TO COME WHOOOSHING THROUGH DOWNTOWN CHICAGO AND SPEFICIALLY HIT THE HOUSE OF BLUES!!! YEAH!!!
It could happen.
On Mega-Disasters it happens. When A Super Tornado Hits DownTown Chicago. It was a show on the History Channel a long time ago...Not as depressing as What Happens after Humans, but not as entertaining as...I don't know...something that is really funy. Incidentally the producers of that series didn't like Illinois very much since there was an episode about the faultline near New Madrid and the tornado in downtown...we all died twice in that series...wait, three times cuz thanks to the meteor, everyone died. I think there was also an earthquake in LA cuz I remember the computer footage of the city being destroyed. How...uh...nice? *headdesk*
On the subject of conspriary theories, did anyone else hear that the meteor that caused the climate change that killed the dinos hit in the Gulf of Mexico? Sound familiar? If you didn't want that epi of Mega Disasters you might not have heard that...
The next episode of Mega Disasters was going to be "Mega Disasters: Explosion in an off-shore oil drilling rig" But it got cancelled because the oil indsutry funds the show, and they didn't want the bad publicity. Cuz I'm pretty sure at least one idiot called the Oil Disaster a "natural" disaster...about as natural as this: humans came from nature, and THEY caused it. Oh wait, BP never told us what actually happened...
Okay, I'm going to stop ranting about how truly pissed off I am about this whole incident. Going to leave this here though. It's the Gulf from space... http://bit.ly/aHZFU0
What was I talking about again? Oh yeah. A giant tornado was barreling down on the HOB. I don't know if that ever happened since the guard people finally let us in. Because it took them THAT LONG to clear out the empty hallway and auditorium...uh huh. So we go inside, and we're waiting on the stairs while they are finishing the sound check. Someone around me said they saw Miyavi but you know, I'm too short...I don't think we waited there THAT long...
The real wait came in once we were standing in front of the stage. It was over two hours. One of my least favorite things in life is waiting for bands to play. My feet hurt. And there is only so much conversation to have with the people around you...though let me say this about the crowd: I was impressed by the variety of people there. And the sheer size of the crowd. Lots of people. We were in the center behind like five or so heads...no one toooo tall was in front of me so I could see for the most part. I was kinda hoping he'd come on at 8:30 but hell, no such luck. I figured it was a scam? Like why the hell would anyone from Japan want to come to Chicago...seems less likely than the tornado. At one point, I was going to sit down right there. I have down that while waiting before...but the place wasn't as crowded then. Sadly no Finnish people were invovled, I didn't get to say my favorite line for concerts..."Bring out the Finn."
I don't get why any performer would want to start a show so late. I'd want to do it earlier...get it over with so I can sleep and not have to worry. But we figured he was playing Facebook game backstage...actually he was standing behind an amp the whole time laughing at the fans waiiting for hours...(not really).
A little after 9, Miyavi did come on though. And omg, seeing everyone go nuts was totally worth the wait. Dude, people can scream! I was impressed by the fan-age. I was like 'uh crazy people..." But no, don't get me wrong, Miyavi is kewl. He's got some mad skillz. LIKE HE CAN SPEAK ENGLISH. OMG, I'M SO JEALOUS. I mean don't ask me to tell you any of the songs he played, but the show's energy made up for my slight ignorance. Miyavi just came off as sincerely happy to be there playing for us. So I thank you, Miyavi for being awesome. *runz* I really don't think he's that hot though...Someone around me was saying all these fangirls got mad when he got married last year. like really, WTF. Let the poor -not even that cute- guy be happy.
Oh another thing that pissed me off (or just something that pissed me off since I don't think I mentioned anything pissing me off yet...except the oil disaster, that is.) I heard this girl say: "Best concert ever. A million times better than Dir en Grey (they're a Japanese hard-rock band) ever was" I swear I glared at that person, and as we were walking back to the car, I was like to Kathy 'OMG, THAT'S LIKE COMPARING AN APPLE TO A LEMON...OMG, CAN WE COMPARE APPLES AND LEMONS." Yeah, they're both fruit, and they both have an "e" in them...But really, I don't get why people have to put one band down to express their love for another. I make different categories for stuff so everything can be my favorite. I have my favorite band. Then I have my favorite Finnish band. My favorite band with Simone Simons as the Singer. My favorite American band. My favorite band with a male vocialist. You get the point. If you can guess all of those, you win!
So after the show, I'm really happy. I mean someone else around me did say "It is impossible to be sad at a Miyavi concert." Yes, I do overhear a lot. I like listening to people's conversations, okay. I don't deny being a Creep...although I'd rather be Optimistic. Lmao. I was glad I went, but I was also glad to get off my feet.
It's like after midnight when we get back in the car. The idea: Follow the opposite of the directions. Took us three tries to find I-90. The road isn't labled. U turn, anyone. But the real "adventure" was about to begin *glare* So the exit onto I-55 we need to get back home was closed off. At first we thought there was a ball game cuz we saw fireworks and traffic jams. Then we thought there was an accident since OUR EXIT WAS BLOCKED. But no...so we take the next exit...trying to turn around to take the exit on the other side of the road, but somehow we end up in Chinatown, which was fine because I know the area around there since I have family close by...so I'm like drive down that street cuz I know how to get home from there...Yes, I do, but the plan requires using I-55, which was blocked again. *frustration* So I call my mom who is like 'oh the expressway must have flooded, but I can't tell you why because our power is out." Like wtf, who would have thought the world was ending while we inside the concert? So we have to take Archer (side-street with LOTS of stoplights) home. Bumper to bumper traffic. Crazy Sox fan in front of us. Finally I remember the radio gives news...a radio? what's that? Express was flooded. When we needed it, of course! I never heard that happen before...So it turns out the hour traffic jam on Archer we were in was caused by ONE out of service traffic light. Once we got past that, traffic picks up. Now we're mad. Cuz it's late. We're sorta nervous.And my friend had to get up in like 4 hours. Yeah.
We eventually get home. My power was in fact out. Incidentally the power in the other half of the complex was on, but not our building, completely dark. It came back on within an hour though...not really a big deal.
Highlights of this story: I saw went to a concert. I had fun. WHOA-HOOO!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
What have I Done?
I repeated my worst mistake. I always will. By pushing people away when I need them most. I wanted to tell each person I have done this too the truth, but it's always been the wrong truth.
I just tell people I love to go away because I'm afraid to be close to them, afraid they'll hurt me.
I've hurt people. But I keep thinking of myself as trying to help...My intentions have always been good. Maybe they're good to alleviate this guilt. Maybe they're not good at all. I'm selfish. So selfish.
I'm so afraid to acknowledge the truth. I can't tell people things.
Now I -rightfully- feel awful.
I just tell people I love to go away because I'm afraid to be close to them, afraid they'll hurt me.
I've hurt people. But I keep thinking of myself as trying to help...My intentions have always been good. Maybe they're good to alleviate this guilt. Maybe they're not good at all. I'm selfish. So selfish.
I'm so afraid to acknowledge the truth. I can't tell people things.
Now I -rightfully- feel awful.
My Own Fault.
I've been miserable, and I've been blaming the wrong person. Truly the right the person to blame is ME. I let this hell happen to me.
It's my fault for trusting people. Because no one has shown to me that they care enough to sacrifice for me when it really comes down to it. Obviously, I'm not an outgoing enough person, not an interesting enough person, too self-absorbed, too scatterbrained, too pathetic...too whatever! But blame it on whatever character flaw you want, and I'm still a loser. A pathetic useless loser who everyone lies to and abandons in the end...because...THERE'S SOMEONE BETTER OUT THERE! YIP.
My original problem was telling my mother two years ago. I created years of havoc, ruined both my parents lives. Now he is all alone because my words stigmatized the world against him. She had to leave her easy life. Nevermind the fact that a shitload of money was wasted. That now she is alone. I made such a mistake trusting her, putting my life in someone else's hand...Yeah, I should have walked away. You would have been better off not knowing the truth. You can't bare the truth because you can't handle change.
More recently my issue was coming back here, but hell if it wouldn't have been selfish of me not to come home to a place I MADE you live in. Like "Oh mess up your whole life for ME, but I'm going to leave anyway!" Okay.
I'm a really, really bad person. Every single person who says they love me would rather be with someone else. I've suffered through trying to help people, trying be close to them. What have I gotten in response? An ex-best friend who blamed all our problems on me and ultimately betrayed me with no remorse, no sad memories whats-so-ever. What's worse, everyone agreed with her, went back to her. Left me. It's my fault. MY FAULT. I ONLY REGRET STAINING MY HANDS. HAD I NOT, I COULD HAVE BEEN FREE.
What the hell do I do now? I'm all alone and wasting my life. I'm so frustrated.
It's my fault for trusting people. Because no one has shown to me that they care enough to sacrifice for me when it really comes down to it. Obviously, I'm not an outgoing enough person, not an interesting enough person, too self-absorbed, too scatterbrained, too pathetic...too whatever! But blame it on whatever character flaw you want, and I'm still a loser. A pathetic useless loser who everyone lies to and abandons in the end...because...THERE'S SOMEONE BETTER OUT THERE! YIP.
My original problem was telling my mother two years ago. I created years of havoc, ruined both my parents lives. Now he is all alone because my words stigmatized the world against him. She had to leave her easy life. Nevermind the fact that a shitload of money was wasted. That now she is alone. I made such a mistake trusting her, putting my life in someone else's hand...Yeah, I should have walked away. You would have been better off not knowing the truth. You can't bare the truth because you can't handle change.
More recently my issue was coming back here, but hell if it wouldn't have been selfish of me not to come home to a place I MADE you live in. Like "Oh mess up your whole life for ME, but I'm going to leave anyway!" Okay.
I'm a really, really bad person. Every single person who says they love me would rather be with someone else. I've suffered through trying to help people, trying be close to them. What have I gotten in response? An ex-best friend who blamed all our problems on me and ultimately betrayed me with no remorse, no sad memories whats-so-ever. What's worse, everyone agreed with her, went back to her. Left me. It's my fault. MY FAULT. I ONLY REGRET STAINING MY HANDS. HAD I NOT, I COULD HAVE BEEN FREE.
What the hell do I do now? I'm all alone and wasting my life. I'm so frustrated.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Remember...
How I was DREADING work today. Yeah. MINDLESS WORRY. Wanna know why? Because the world enjoys torturing me with awkward, embarressing situations that leave me feeling completely retarded. Observe:
This morning I wake up at 4am after sleeping for a few sweaty hours. I go to Burger King. Incidently NO ONE is there when I arrive so I sit in my car for a half hour. I'm thinking "you said come at five, right?" Right. So finally a manager comes, but pays no attention to me. Even when I stand by the door. I call right before six when they open. She knows nothing about me coming to train. She wasn't the one who hired me. I want to shrink up into my little shell and trudge away like a shameful turtle. But I don't; no, I go inside when they open and talk to the manager in person. Turns out I can't work because I don't have a uniform. That would have been nice to know before I woke up at 4am. Went home and back to bed, but I was still exhausted all day...
Then I started reading this stupid, depressing book with a really depressing heroin. Not a likeable character at all. Too judgemental. She's looking down on everyone while she, herself, is super boring. Plus the writer enjoys "TELLING." NOOOOOO!!!! SAVE ME.
Oh. Also, Socialism and Soccer both start with "soc." CONSPIRACY, ANYONE? I THINK SO. I HERE BY THINK WE SHOULD USE OUR SECOND AMENDMENT RIGHTS TO DEFEND THE FREEDOM OF INNOCENT AMERICAN FROM A WORLD THAT WANTS...*CHOKE* UNITY!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I also like in South Dakota and LOVE mustard.
Yip.
I think this post started out serious. Oi.
This morning I wake up at 4am after sleeping for a few sweaty hours. I go to Burger King. Incidently NO ONE is there when I arrive so I sit in my car for a half hour. I'm thinking "you said come at five, right?" Right. So finally a manager comes, but pays no attention to me. Even when I stand by the door. I call right before six when they open. She knows nothing about me coming to train. She wasn't the one who hired me. I want to shrink up into my little shell and trudge away like a shameful turtle. But I don't; no, I go inside when they open and talk to the manager in person. Turns out I can't work because I don't have a uniform. That would have been nice to know before I woke up at 4am. Went home and back to bed, but I was still exhausted all day...
Then I started reading this stupid, depressing book with a really depressing heroin. Not a likeable character at all. Too judgemental. She's looking down on everyone while she, herself, is super boring. Plus the writer enjoys "TELLING." NOOOOOO!!!! SAVE ME.
Oh. Also, Socialism and Soccer both start with "soc." CONSPIRACY, ANYONE? I THINK SO. I HERE BY THINK WE SHOULD USE OUR SECOND AMENDMENT RIGHTS TO DEFEND THE FREEDOM OF INNOCENT AMERICAN FROM A WORLD THAT WANTS...*CHOKE* UNITY!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I also like in South Dakota and LOVE mustard.
Yip.
I think this post started out serious. Oi.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
More thoughts.
So if we need the past to get to the future, than no past is ever wrong. Even when I forgot the meaning of 69 or make a silly mistake. Even when I don't talk to people or mean a lot to me for too long. Even I want to jump off a bridge because I've been so passive and indecisive.
I told you I feel wrong, and that's how I know something isn't right (okay, that's isn't what I said, but...). BUT TRULY BEAUTY LIES IN CONTRADICTION. LIKE SYMPHONIC METAL. LIKE 69. LIKE MY LIFE.
I'm going to stop now because I really need to pee, and it is after 3am. In like 26 hours, I have to learn how to be a good fastfood worker again so I should enjoy my creative, witty, insane intellectualism right NOW.
By sleeping.
I told you I feel wrong, and that's how I know something isn't right (okay, that's isn't what I said, but...). BUT TRULY BEAUTY LIES IN CONTRADICTION. LIKE SYMPHONIC METAL. LIKE 69. LIKE MY LIFE.
I'm going to stop now because I really need to pee, and it is after 3am. In like 26 hours, I have to learn how to be a good fastfood worker again so I should enjoy my creative, witty, insane intellectualism right NOW.
By sleeping.
CLIMAX.
OMG. SO I'M LIKE EXTREMELY MENTALLY STIMULATED RIGHT NOW!!! BECAUSE I JUST READ THE POST AMAZING CLIMAX EVER. OKAY NOW EVERYONE IS LIKE "CLIMAX?" "SEX"
OF COURSE, I'M TALKING ABOUT THE LITERARY CLIMAX. THAT IS THE TURNING POINT IN A STORY WHERE ALL THE EMOTION, CONFLICT, INTRIGUE, PENT-UP FRUSTRATION AND DESIRE AND UNSPOKEN TRUTH EXPLODE INTO AN ACTION THAT CONTRADICTS WHAT WOULD HAVE MADE SENSE WITH THE RISING ACTION.
GOD. NOW I WANT TO MAKE AN ANALOGY COMPARING THE PLOT STRUCTURE TO SEX. I'M SURE IT'S BEEN DONE BEFORE. IT'S TOOO EASY NOT TO HAVE BEEN DONE BEFORE (i'm sure that could make a pretty sleazy that's what she/ he said joke...). I'M GOING TO REFRAIN FROM THINKING ANYMORE INTO THAT THOUGH SINCE THAT'S NOT THE POINT OF MY ALL CAPS LOCK POST. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE POINT WAS. I JUST MOVED THE MOUSE PAD BECAUSE ME MOUSE KEPT JUMPING AROUND AND MESSING UP EVERYTHING I WAS TYPING. IT BETTER NOT DO THAT ANYMORE, BUT NOW I THINK MY THUMB KEEPS HITTING THE LAPTOP'S TOUCH-THING-Y.
OH RIGHT. I WAS TALKING ABOUT CLIMAXES. OH I KNOW. I'M GOING TO COMPARE CLIMAXES TO NUCLEAR FUSION (AT LEAST MY EXTREMELY STUPID TAKE ON NUCLEAR FUSION THAT HASN'T CHANGED SINCE SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL) REMEMBER THIS: THE WATER BOTTLES AFTER I POURED THE REMAING WATER ON THE TABLE FOR NO REASON? IN A FLASH OF BRILLANCE, I SMASHED THOSE WATER BOTTLES TOGETHER AND SCREAMED NUCLEAR FUSION? BUT SEE JUST LIKE CLIMAXES AND 69 ARE SYMBOLIC SO IS NUCLEAR FUSION!!! BECAUSE IT'S "COMING TOGETHER!" YIP. LIKE SEX. Oi.
SO THE CLIMAX (of a romantic story that ends with a happy ending...) IS WHEN THE TWO LOVERS (the two little adorable particle thingies that go BOOM and make a lot of energy...also like sex...my mind feels like a land mine right now...whereever I walk, something else just pops up)
AHHHHH! OMG. I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING! SO I FIGURED OUT WHY I LOVE "KINGDOM OF HEAVEN -EPICA SONG-" SO MUCH!!! BECAUSE IT'S SO CONTRADICTORY! BECAUSE IT CONTAINS EVERY SINGLE THING THAT I LOVE! IN A SONG. WITH SIMONE SINGING IT!
quantum pyshics. inter-connectedness of everything. message of unity.
I think I understand now. A little better. About 69. Contradictions. Epic (of course, when I wanted to type EPIC, I TYPED EPICA.).
EPIC.
i did it again.
OF COURSE, I'M TALKING ABOUT THE LITERARY CLIMAX. THAT IS THE TURNING POINT IN A STORY WHERE ALL THE EMOTION, CONFLICT, INTRIGUE, PENT-UP FRUSTRATION AND DESIRE AND UNSPOKEN TRUTH EXPLODE INTO AN ACTION THAT CONTRADICTS WHAT WOULD HAVE MADE SENSE WITH THE RISING ACTION.
GOD. NOW I WANT TO MAKE AN ANALOGY COMPARING THE PLOT STRUCTURE TO SEX. I'M SURE IT'S BEEN DONE BEFORE. IT'S TOOO EASY NOT TO HAVE BEEN DONE BEFORE (i'm sure that could make a pretty sleazy that's what she/ he said joke...). I'M GOING TO REFRAIN FROM THINKING ANYMORE INTO THAT THOUGH SINCE THAT'S NOT THE POINT OF MY ALL CAPS LOCK POST. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE POINT WAS. I JUST MOVED THE MOUSE PAD BECAUSE ME MOUSE KEPT JUMPING AROUND AND MESSING UP EVERYTHING I WAS TYPING. IT BETTER NOT DO THAT ANYMORE, BUT NOW I THINK MY THUMB KEEPS HITTING THE LAPTOP'S TOUCH-THING-Y.
OH RIGHT. I WAS TALKING ABOUT CLIMAXES. OH I KNOW. I'M GOING TO COMPARE CLIMAXES TO NUCLEAR FUSION (AT LEAST MY EXTREMELY STUPID TAKE ON NUCLEAR FUSION THAT HASN'T CHANGED SINCE SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL) REMEMBER THIS: THE WATER BOTTLES AFTER I POURED THE REMAING WATER ON THE TABLE FOR NO REASON? IN A FLASH OF BRILLANCE, I SMASHED THOSE WATER BOTTLES TOGETHER AND SCREAMED NUCLEAR FUSION? BUT SEE JUST LIKE CLIMAXES AND 69 ARE SYMBOLIC SO IS NUCLEAR FUSION!!! BECAUSE IT'S "COMING TOGETHER!" YIP. LIKE SEX. Oi.
SO THE CLIMAX (of a romantic story that ends with a happy ending...) IS WHEN THE TWO LOVERS (the two little adorable particle thingies that go BOOM and make a lot of energy...also like sex...my mind feels like a land mine right now...whereever I walk, something else just pops up)
AHHHHH! OMG. I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING! SO I FIGURED OUT WHY I LOVE "KINGDOM OF HEAVEN -EPICA SONG-" SO MUCH!!! BECAUSE IT'S SO CONTRADICTORY! BECAUSE IT CONTAINS EVERY SINGLE THING THAT I LOVE! IN A SONG. WITH SIMONE SINGING IT!
quantum pyshics. inter-connectedness of everything. message of unity.
I think I understand now. A little better. About 69. Contradictions. Epic (of course, when I wanted to type EPIC, I TYPED EPICA.).
EPIC.
i did it again.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
100th Post!
I'm going to use this landmark to inform anyone that I'm starting a new blog. One that I can let the world read. With my opinions about things going on in the world. Why? Because suddenly I want to have my own talk show...So why not start with a blog. Get famous. As if.
Anyway, I'll still update the hell outta this place since I need a place to pour out my deepest, most disturbing feelings that I can't share with normal society...and by normal society I mean my friends.
So I shall begin construction of "Deconstruct." Named for my FAVORITE Epica song, of course<3
Anyway, I'll still update the hell outta this place since I need a place to pour out my deepest, most disturbing feelings that I can't share with normal society...and by normal society I mean my friends.
So I shall begin construction of "Deconstruct." Named for my FAVORITE Epica song, of course<3
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Work.
So today was my first experience in the fast food industry! That's right, I started working at Burger King this morning!
The day started off like any other earlier morning...that's is it brought me back to those school days when Mum had to drive me back to Urbana at 6am so we went to McDonalds (or Dunkin' Donuts but usually McDonalds because we like their coffee more). But of course, then things had to get sad for me...Because I had to buy black pants...and when the size 12 pants didn't all fit...that hurt. I wonder how many people cry in dressing rooms? I know I have...many times.
But that's meaningless back story considering I worked today in the real world! One thing I'll is that I didn't think it would be so difficult. I know I'm awkward, and I know I'm not really good at processing different things at the same time...I'm thankful for my genius so I can go off and use my brain in my future job...not my procedural memory or hands.
I'm also slow. I'm just a slow person. I walk slow. I run slow. I take tests slowly. Actually, slow should be slowly in all those sentences...adverbs. I'm depressing myself. But I was having trouble with the drive-thru. I remember wanting to work in a drive-thur so I could be all friendly with people....I'm soooo helplessly optimistic. Unrealistic.
I hope I can learn. Gods, I'm so scared of being a failure at a manual job.
But some amusing stuff:
1. Our computers kept crashing so we had to shut down the whole resturant for like 15 minutes.
2. We never got the drive-thru system back up.
3. All the soda machines shut down.
I think I caused all the malfunctions. My extistence tends to do that.
The day started off like any other earlier morning...that's is it brought me back to those school days when Mum had to drive me back to Urbana at 6am so we went to McDonalds (or Dunkin' Donuts but usually McDonalds because we like their coffee more). But of course, then things had to get sad for me...Because I had to buy black pants...and when the size 12 pants didn't all fit...that hurt. I wonder how many people cry in dressing rooms? I know I have...many times.
But that's meaningless back story considering I worked today in the real world! One thing I'll is that I didn't think it would be so difficult. I know I'm awkward, and I know I'm not really good at processing different things at the same time...I'm thankful for my genius so I can go off and use my brain in my future job...not my procedural memory or hands.
I'm also slow. I'm just a slow person. I walk slow. I run slow. I take tests slowly. Actually, slow should be slowly in all those sentences...adverbs. I'm depressing myself. But I was having trouble with the drive-thru. I remember wanting to work in a drive-thur so I could be all friendly with people....I'm soooo helplessly optimistic. Unrealistic.
I hope I can learn. Gods, I'm so scared of being a failure at a manual job.
But some amusing stuff:
1. Our computers kept crashing so we had to shut down the whole resturant for like 15 minutes.
2. We never got the drive-thru system back up.
3. All the soda machines shut down.
I think I caused all the malfunctions. My extistence tends to do that.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
One More Thing...
I wanted to text this to one of my friends, but I figured I'd be bothering her.
My life can be summed into two things:
1. A profound love for pizza and ice cream. Random yes, but I was eating spomoni ice cream at the time that I thought about this.
2. I am always trying to be "someone that I am not and don't even really want to be but think I should be."
#2 is more profound. I think. I don't know. Right now, all I am thinking about is how much I love Epica. Ohhhhhh, how I have a one track mind!
You don't think Epica is my favorite band right?
My life can be summed into two things:
1. A profound love for pizza and ice cream. Random yes, but I was eating spomoni ice cream at the time that I thought about this.
2. I am always trying to be "someone that I am not and don't even really want to be but think I should be."
#2 is more profound. I think. I don't know. Right now, all I am thinking about is how much I love Epica. Ohhhhhh, how I have a one track mind!
You don't think Epica is my favorite band right?
More Light-Hearted News.
Here's one for the Chronicles of Amy's Stove: So after all the kernls (spelled wrong?) in my bag of microwavable popcorn didn't POP! I decided I was going to see if I could get them to pop in a pan of oil on the stove. So I pour oil into a pan and turn on the heat. Mind you, I NEVER would have tried this with a gas stove, but electric... "burners" give you an illusion of safety. I learned if I turned the heat up as high as possible, the coils gets RED HOT. Nearly stopped my heart. I thought it was on fire. Note to self: Buy fire exstinguisher. Anyway, after I turned the heat down, the oil boiled and I poured the cornuls (CORN should be in kernils...I really don't know how to spell that word and it is far funnier trying to spell it than looking it up...). AND....IT POPPPED! AND I GOT HIT WITH SCALDING POPCORN AS IT FLEW ALL OVER MY KITCHEN! IT WAS GLORIOUS!
I feel somewhat better now! Plus I got a job. Start Sunday morning. I'll be making money! Yipee!
I feel somewhat better now! Plus I got a job. Start Sunday morning. I'll be making money! Yipee!
EPICA STARTED IT!
Because Epica insisted on not coming to Chicago during their November tour, I will be forced to stalk them. Let it be known that they started it and not me. Nope. I'm a good little fangirl.
Mark said that their tour manager tried to book them in as many new cities as possible, and they'll come back to Chicago after the release of their next album (in a like years! HELLO, IF ALL GOES AS PLANNED, I WON'T BE HERE THEN.) But anyway, I forgive Epica because now...dun dun dun...I can start planning my EPIC, EPICA ROADTRIP!!! IT'LL BE GLORIOUS!
Mark said that their tour manager tried to book them in as many new cities as possible, and they'll come back to Chicago after the release of their next album (in a like years! HELLO, IF ALL GOES AS PLANNED, I WON'T BE HERE THEN.) But anyway, I forgive Epica because now...dun dun dun...I can start planning my EPIC, EPICA ROADTRIP!!! IT'LL BE GLORIOUS!
Jealous.
So, honestly, I would consider myself a VERY jealous person. But in my defense, I'm not jealous of everyone. I'm just jealous of THOSE WHO HAVE WHAT I WANT. Okay, I think the very definition of jealous is "wanting something someone else has." So I'm not really that selective in my jealousy. All the same, I can learn from my jealous nature, learn what it is I want.
Way back long ago, in second grade, I was jealous of my classmate who won the writing contest. I remember clearly thinking that my writing must be too fluffy, with no real conflict. Somehow, though, this other girl wrote a well-crafted meaningful story. WHY DID THIS REVELATION BOTHER ME WHEN BACK THEN I (I also remember thinking this)FELT BAD FOR WHOEVER HAD TO WRITENOVELS. I mean, I guess you could bend this memory to mean that I simply wanted praise, and I would also have been jealous of someone who say won a beauty contest (something that really could mean less to me...even now). I do also remember having this terrible need to BE THE BEST. In math. In swimming. In friends. I do remember being jealous of those who were better at swimming than me (nouns involve less committment than verbs...which is why I didn't say swam...I'm trying here...to remember things I hate remembering...things that make me look WEAK). Very jealous at that. Jealous to the point of meanness, hatred. I chose to push people away rather than ever appear less than perfect. Over ten years later, I still do this exact same thing. Like I just read in a book "I push people away when I need them most." Because needing someone implies weakness and weakness implies that I am not perfect. But why, why do I have the need to never show weakness so engrained in me?
I think I have some repressed memory surrounding the events of whatever happened when I was four. Actually it's not whatever happened because I know exactly what happened. But I'm starting to think there was more than what I know happened because even being molested doesn't account for a terrible and innate desire to be perfect, to never show a single flaw. Okay, maybe it does. It probably does.I just wikied Complex Post Traumatic Stress disorder (because that's what I have, I've self-diagnosed...lmao), and the article doesn't say anything about a complusive need for perfection. Well, maybe it's actually CONTROL that I need. As in being perfect is a way to control everything about your life. Probably. Like that's the mindset behind anorexia, I think. If it wasn't for PCOS, I probably would have been anorexia at one poin in my life (okay, I was borderline anorexic when I was in my younger years of highschool, but I still didn't really lose weight...thank you, again PCOS.) I also went through a I Want To Make Myself Throw Up Phase, but luckily, I didn't have the balls to actually make myself puke. Yeah, I was too weak to make myself puke. Blessing or Curse? Just now, I was listening to FROZEN in two places. Two versions. FROZEN. I've chosen Deconstruct and Utopia as my favorite songs now-a-days because they represent other parts of me. You know, not the suicidial, desperately searching for a reason to remain alive person or the SO TRAUMITIZED I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT ANY EMOTION FEELS LIKE person. I don't know why that one is in caps...But regardless, both those persons are a REAL part of my past. No, they ARE my past. No wonder I'm jealous of anyone who has an even remotely "normal" past.
But actually that's not what I'm jealous of. Here, I will go through a list of the people I am most jealous of right now. Even knowing that -perhaps- a few of these people might read this. I'm also a self-professed COWARD. Sorry, I've never said any of these things to your face. Actually, I think I did say some of THIS to HER face because like it or not I was able to tell her anything. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to tell her I wanted to die, when I did...when I actually didn't. Can I not do this?
1. I'll state with an easy to state reality because this one shouldn't come as surprise. I'm jealous of Sarah. Yes, the girl who I both am "in love with" and HATE. I want to be like her because she was so involved in "good." She was part of all these volunteer groups; she was the RA for goodness sake. A noteworthy position, yes. She played the role well too. Always the idealistic, always saying all the right things at all the right times. So yeah, I take my hat off to you, Sarah, because represent the "do-good, well-respected" person that I would love to be. Also I envy your "idyllic" childhood and family life. I can't help that. Oh and the fact that you seem to be a "better" psychology major than me. What with your research experience and sureness about your desires. I've spent A LOT of time thinking about you. I mean if this blog is any proof, you ARE THE ONLY THING I THINK ABOUT. Right now, I wouldn't say that is that far from the truth. My last two posts have been poems DIRECTED AT YOU. I swear, if only you knew I was OBSESSED with you. Though at this EXACT moment, you are not my biggest obsession. Oh how you (who ever you are) should know what is coming...I have two HERS, and well, yip, my current obsession is the original HER. The her I've dream about all the time. The her I used to tell everything to. So without further ado. The confession.
2. I'm jealous of Alex. I'm horridly jealous of the girl who broke my heart (in the non-romantic way). Why would I be jealous of an insincere ex-friend who "betrayed" me? Because she was the one who betrayed me. Because she was able to betray me. I don't betray people because I'm terrified of losing people. I just don't seem to have all the people in my life others do, and I'm not as wonderful at making friends as other people are...So I have cling to whoever I have. Cling might not be the best word since, honestly, I want to think people are good and there are quite a few people I really do like. I REALLY trusted her. Despite all the times when it seemed that she didn't care. 1. You carely chose them over me even when I told you how depressed I was. You didn't talk to me on that field trip and then YOU BLAMED ME. I was so GONE at that point. I believed you too. I always believed you...2. You told me "all you ever wanted was for our other friend to talk to you. At that other friend: I understand now, I think, why you couldn't talk to me for that time. I recently felt that way. That even if the person who these feelings were directed at came around, I could NEVER trust them the same way again. I would have lingering feelings of hate. Maybe that is why so many of my old friendships are screwed up beyond repair. Back on topic: You never valued the fact that we were "best friends." Nope. You always wanted someone else. Another friend. A boy. Some dream. You can't imagine how that made me feel. How much I cried because of you. How I still dream about you. Another obsession, right. I can't let go of these people because I am JEALOUS. I'm jealous because you didn't feel the way I did, because you had people to fill the ranks left by us. I mean, I had other friends, better friends, but if I am one thing, it is insincere. When I come to like someone, I like them. If I trust you, you should consider yourself lucky.
Yeah, those two HERS, my obsessions, take up so much space on my mind...for no reason too. I need to let go of them. Even if they do represent things I can't control, failures or people who hurt me a lot, I need to MOVE ON. No matter what moving on means. But, alas, I haven't confessed anything new here. Maybe a few feet deeper than before but not...well, not the stab that started this thought process. I don't know if I can say this next part since it truly makes me look wrong. Immature. Hopeless. Small. Especially considering...
Oi. So you remember (or KNOW first hand) that two of the people I consider to be my best friends I met online. And they know things other people don't about me. In a way, I let them see a fragile me, at a time of weakness when I needed someone so very much and when I otherwise would have pushed everyone away. Right now, I am pushing everyone away. I desperately want to push YOU away because I want to make it seem like I don't need you, that I'm not hurt that I'm not your favorite. You've said I was your best friend, but how many other people have you ever said that to? I know I have issue trusting someone who calls themselves my best friend, but I know when you say it, it isn't completely the truth- not completely a lie either. See I know (and really want it to be like this for both your sake's, trust me though I might be confessing to jealousy here, I don't harbor any ill wishes. I WANT BOTH YOU TO BE HAPPY. THAT WILL NOT CHANGE NO MATTER WHAT) she (I can't use names. I'm sorry. I'm a coward.) is your best friend. She's the one you want to talk to. Just like Sabina was the one Alex wanted to talk to. NOT ME. NEVER ME. I know I shouldn't feel this way (and I sure as hell shouldn't be listening to WT while feeling this way...) but it hurts a lot to think of you two being friends without me, being better friends than you are with me at that. It hurts. Maybe it's not even jealous. Simply: it hurts. As if I've been forgotten about after we were such good friends. AND I JUST GOT SIDE-TRACKED BY MY COMPLETE LOVE FOR EPICA! But another rant about that later...Where was I? Oh yes, I was feeling bad because you two seems to forget about me, leave me out. Because you're going to be with her and not me. Yip. As if you chose someone else over me. Mind you, I would WANT you to make that choice, but I also don't want to be forgotten about by anyone. I've lost a lot of friends...mainly the HER mentioned above. I don't want that to happen again. I'm so very, very sorry!
This post is ending now because I'm thinking about EPICA. Oi.
Way back long ago, in second grade, I was jealous of my classmate who won the writing contest. I remember clearly thinking that my writing must be too fluffy, with no real conflict. Somehow, though, this other girl wrote a well-crafted meaningful story. WHY DID THIS REVELATION BOTHER ME WHEN BACK THEN I (I also remember thinking this)FELT BAD FOR WHOEVER HAD TO WRITENOVELS. I mean, I guess you could bend this memory to mean that I simply wanted praise, and I would also have been jealous of someone who say won a beauty contest (something that really could mean less to me...even now). I do also remember having this terrible need to BE THE BEST. In math. In swimming. In friends. I do remember being jealous of those who were better at swimming than me (nouns involve less committment than verbs...which is why I didn't say swam...I'm trying here...to remember things I hate remembering...things that make me look WEAK). Very jealous at that. Jealous to the point of meanness, hatred. I chose to push people away rather than ever appear less than perfect. Over ten years later, I still do this exact same thing. Like I just read in a book "I push people away when I need them most." Because needing someone implies weakness and weakness implies that I am not perfect. But why, why do I have the need to never show weakness so engrained in me?
I think I have some repressed memory surrounding the events of whatever happened when I was four. Actually it's not whatever happened because I know exactly what happened. But I'm starting to think there was more than what I know happened because even being molested doesn't account for a terrible and innate desire to be perfect, to never show a single flaw. Okay, maybe it does. It probably does.I just wikied Complex Post Traumatic Stress disorder (because that's what I have, I've self-diagnosed...lmao), and the article doesn't say anything about a complusive need for perfection. Well, maybe it's actually CONTROL that I need. As in being perfect is a way to control everything about your life. Probably. Like that's the mindset behind anorexia, I think. If it wasn't for PCOS, I probably would have been anorexia at one poin in my life (okay, I was borderline anorexic when I was in my younger years of highschool, but I still didn't really lose weight...thank you, again PCOS.) I also went through a I Want To Make Myself Throw Up Phase, but luckily, I didn't have the balls to actually make myself puke. Yeah, I was too weak to make myself puke. Blessing or Curse? Just now, I was listening to FROZEN in two places. Two versions. FROZEN. I've chosen Deconstruct and Utopia as my favorite songs now-a-days because they represent other parts of me. You know, not the suicidial, desperately searching for a reason to remain alive person or the SO TRAUMITIZED I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT ANY EMOTION FEELS LIKE person. I don't know why that one is in caps...But regardless, both those persons are a REAL part of my past. No, they ARE my past. No wonder I'm jealous of anyone who has an even remotely "normal" past.
But actually that's not what I'm jealous of. Here, I will go through a list of the people I am most jealous of right now. Even knowing that -perhaps- a few of these people might read this. I'm also a self-professed COWARD. Sorry, I've never said any of these things to your face. Actually, I think I did say some of THIS to HER face because like it or not I was able to tell her anything. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to tell her I wanted to die, when I did...when I actually didn't. Can I not do this?
1. I'll state with an easy to state reality because this one shouldn't come as surprise. I'm jealous of Sarah. Yes, the girl who I both am "in love with" and HATE. I want to be like her because she was so involved in "good." She was part of all these volunteer groups; she was the RA for goodness sake. A noteworthy position, yes. She played the role well too. Always the idealistic, always saying all the right things at all the right times. So yeah, I take my hat off to you, Sarah, because represent the "do-good, well-respected" person that I would love to be. Also I envy your "idyllic" childhood and family life. I can't help that. Oh and the fact that you seem to be a "better" psychology major than me. What with your research experience and sureness about your desires. I've spent A LOT of time thinking about you. I mean if this blog is any proof, you ARE THE ONLY THING I THINK ABOUT. Right now, I wouldn't say that is that far from the truth. My last two posts have been poems DIRECTED AT YOU. I swear, if only you knew I was OBSESSED with you. Though at this EXACT moment, you are not my biggest obsession. Oh how you (who ever you are) should know what is coming...I have two HERS, and well, yip, my current obsession is the original HER. The her I've dream about all the time. The her I used to tell everything to. So without further ado. The confession.
2. I'm jealous of Alex. I'm horridly jealous of the girl who broke my heart (in the non-romantic way). Why would I be jealous of an insincere ex-friend who "betrayed" me? Because she was the one who betrayed me. Because she was able to betray me. I don't betray people because I'm terrified of losing people. I just don't seem to have all the people in my life others do, and I'm not as wonderful at making friends as other people are...So I have cling to whoever I have. Cling might not be the best word since, honestly, I want to think people are good and there are quite a few people I really do like. I REALLY trusted her. Despite all the times when it seemed that she didn't care. 1. You carely chose them over me even when I told you how depressed I was. You didn't talk to me on that field trip and then YOU BLAMED ME. I was so GONE at that point. I believed you too. I always believed you...2. You told me "all you ever wanted was for our other friend to talk to you. At that other friend: I understand now, I think, why you couldn't talk to me for that time. I recently felt that way. That even if the person who these feelings were directed at came around, I could NEVER trust them the same way again. I would have lingering feelings of hate. Maybe that is why so many of my old friendships are screwed up beyond repair. Back on topic: You never valued the fact that we were "best friends." Nope. You always wanted someone else. Another friend. A boy. Some dream. You can't imagine how that made me feel. How much I cried because of you. How I still dream about you. Another obsession, right. I can't let go of these people because I am JEALOUS. I'm jealous because you didn't feel the way I did, because you had people to fill the ranks left by us. I mean, I had other friends, better friends, but if I am one thing, it is insincere. When I come to like someone, I like them. If I trust you, you should consider yourself lucky.
Yeah, those two HERS, my obsessions, take up so much space on my mind...for no reason too. I need to let go of them. Even if they do represent things I can't control, failures or people who hurt me a lot, I need to MOVE ON. No matter what moving on means. But, alas, I haven't confessed anything new here. Maybe a few feet deeper than before but not...well, not the stab that started this thought process. I don't know if I can say this next part since it truly makes me look wrong. Immature. Hopeless. Small. Especially considering...
Oi. So you remember (or KNOW first hand) that two of the people I consider to be my best friends I met online. And they know things other people don't about me. In a way, I let them see a fragile me, at a time of weakness when I needed someone so very much and when I otherwise would have pushed everyone away. Right now, I am pushing everyone away. I desperately want to push YOU away because I want to make it seem like I don't need you, that I'm not hurt that I'm not your favorite. You've said I was your best friend, but how many other people have you ever said that to? I know I have issue trusting someone who calls themselves my best friend, but I know when you say it, it isn't completely the truth- not completely a lie either. See I know (and really want it to be like this for both your sake's, trust me though I might be confessing to jealousy here, I don't harbor any ill wishes. I WANT BOTH YOU TO BE HAPPY. THAT WILL NOT CHANGE NO MATTER WHAT) she (I can't use names. I'm sorry. I'm a coward.) is your best friend. She's the one you want to talk to. Just like Sabina was the one Alex wanted to talk to. NOT ME. NEVER ME. I know I shouldn't feel this way (and I sure as hell shouldn't be listening to WT while feeling this way...) but it hurts a lot to think of you two being friends without me, being better friends than you are with me at that. It hurts. Maybe it's not even jealous. Simply: it hurts. As if I've been forgotten about after we were such good friends. AND I JUST GOT SIDE-TRACKED BY MY COMPLETE LOVE FOR EPICA! But another rant about that later...Where was I? Oh yes, I was feeling bad because you two seems to forget about me, leave me out. Because you're going to be with her and not me. Yip. As if you chose someone else over me. Mind you, I would WANT you to make that choice, but I also don't want to be forgotten about by anyone. I've lost a lot of friends...mainly the HER mentioned above. I don't want that to happen again. I'm so very, very sorry!
This post is ending now because I'm thinking about EPICA. Oi.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Mummy
I’m a mummy.
All wrapped up
Body in-tact, mind shriveled away
Soon to encased
Forever with these thoughts
Memories of my mistakes, recollections of you
Never dying, never forgetting
Longing to return
So I can travel forward
Cross the river and
Let it die
I want to lay my thoughts to rest
In a tomb, far, far away from the
Floor I once shared with you
You’ll never know the role
Our -not quite- relationship
Played in my need for a sarcophagus
That your random comments, strong convictions
Sucked the blood from these stiffened veins
More or less, you were a roadblock
That bottle-necked my thoughts
My airway and all my bodily fluids
I choked and squirmed in your presence
At the thought of you
Let’s say I burst
My organs ruptured
Because of the clog you caused
Contradictory thoughts have
No release valve
Don’t bother as your wrap me
To carve my heart out
You already did
While I lived, sitting beside you
Leave the jars set aside to
Hold my useless organs
Empty
Like your eyes when you looked at me
Devoid of the feelings
That stopped my blood from reaching
My heart
Filled with desire
For you
I wish I could
Open my eyes
One last time to see
Your eyes twinkle
I know you silently
Enjoy wrapping the mouth
That knew no indoor voice
That supposedly disturbed your slumber
You bind me tighter
I find comfort once again
In a fantasy
These wrappings are your arms
Embracing me
I see white
Clouds in the sky of your kingdom
Floating above the throne from which
You rule
I dared question that authority
I wonder if you knew
I would love a power struggle
I didn’t want rebellion though
I wanted you
Inferior, you called me
And I believed it
I envy you
For building pyramids
While I drew maps to
Illusive treasure
Dug through scalding sand
And watched as the granules
Fell back into place
Like always
Mixing with my tears until
I sank into the quick-sand
In the next life
As irony would have it
I’ll be a creature
Who has no voice
Because I, who
Always had a witty comeback
Can never find the words when
It matters
I watch the tides of sand
Blow, rise and fall
As I burrow into the drifts
If I told you,
Would you have left me still
In a tight space for all eternity
Your kingdom will one day
Crumble, your gold will tarnish
I wish you the best
As you travel to construct
Bigger monuments in distant lands
I ask that you remember me
Maybe one day, you’ll excavate this place
Touch your finger tip to the mummy
You wrapped
I hope to laugh then
As if the memory tickled me
Like you’d laugh, like my friends would laugh
If I ever let the truth slip through my lips
Our love could never be
You, my love, never existed
A mere mirage in the scorching desert
That personified everything I feared
And longed for
Though as you fade
Into the orange horizon
A tear falls
Because I’m alone
Surrounded my dunes and sink holes
Wind and rain, beasts and scrutiny
Left to carve reality
From fallen stones
The whirling sands
Unearth me
A gem
Glistening in the sun
All wrapped up
Body in-tact, mind shriveled away
Soon to encased
Forever with these thoughts
Memories of my mistakes, recollections of you
Never dying, never forgetting
Longing to return
So I can travel forward
Cross the river and
Let it die
I want to lay my thoughts to rest
In a tomb, far, far away from the
Floor I once shared with you
You’ll never know the role
Our -not quite- relationship
Played in my need for a sarcophagus
That your random comments, strong convictions
Sucked the blood from these stiffened veins
More or less, you were a roadblock
That bottle-necked my thoughts
My airway and all my bodily fluids
I choked and squirmed in your presence
At the thought of you
Let’s say I burst
My organs ruptured
Because of the clog you caused
Contradictory thoughts have
No release valve
Don’t bother as your wrap me
To carve my heart out
You already did
While I lived, sitting beside you
Leave the jars set aside to
Hold my useless organs
Empty
Like your eyes when you looked at me
Devoid of the feelings
That stopped my blood from reaching
My heart
Filled with desire
For you
I wish I could
Open my eyes
One last time to see
Your eyes twinkle
I know you silently
Enjoy wrapping the mouth
That knew no indoor voice
That supposedly disturbed your slumber
You bind me tighter
I find comfort once again
In a fantasy
These wrappings are your arms
Embracing me
I see white
Clouds in the sky of your kingdom
Floating above the throne from which
You rule
I dared question that authority
I wonder if you knew
I would love a power struggle
I didn’t want rebellion though
I wanted you
Inferior, you called me
And I believed it
I envy you
For building pyramids
While I drew maps to
Illusive treasure
Dug through scalding sand
And watched as the granules
Fell back into place
Like always
Mixing with my tears until
I sank into the quick-sand
In the next life
As irony would have it
I’ll be a creature
Who has no voice
Because I, who
Always had a witty comeback
Can never find the words when
It matters
I watch the tides of sand
Blow, rise and fall
As I burrow into the drifts
If I told you,
Would you have left me still
In a tight space for all eternity
Your kingdom will one day
Crumble, your gold will tarnish
I wish you the best
As you travel to construct
Bigger monuments in distant lands
I ask that you remember me
Maybe one day, you’ll excavate this place
Touch your finger tip to the mummy
You wrapped
I hope to laugh then
As if the memory tickled me
Like you’d laugh, like my friends would laugh
If I ever let the truth slip through my lips
Our love could never be
You, my love, never existed
A mere mirage in the scorching desert
That personified everything I feared
And longed for
Though as you fade
Into the orange horizon
A tear falls
Because I’m alone
Surrounded my dunes and sink holes
Wind and rain, beasts and scrutiny
Left to carve reality
From fallen stones
The whirling sands
Unearth me
A gem
Glistening in the sun
Pathetically.
GAH! I feel so torn! Missing those who don't miss me, I think.
Pathetically
Pathetically feeling
That despite everything
My worst fault is
Loving
Much more than
I’ve ever been loved
Needing you much more
Then you’ll ever need me
Pathetically loving
Fantasies
Products of a
Wishful Imagination
Pixels, I’ve loved
And gorgeous voices
The self-righteous girl
From down the hall
Pathetically thinking
She would ever give me
A second thought
A third, perhaps
Because I’ve planned
Our union
Our teasing and heated embraces
The way we’d accept fate
Pathetically –nearly- crying
Hearing
Goodbye to You
I never said goodbye
Never hello, either
Just, confessed my madness
Suggested you substitute bricks
Instigated conflict that drove us apart
Pathetically hating
Men
Except those Finns
I want to marry
Or my imaginary soul-mate
Who’s perfect, by the way
The hand I hold when
I think of friends in relationships
Pathetically envying
Couples I see
While I’m sitting
Trying to write
About how I want her
My thoughts are disjointed paragraphs
That kills my hopes
That I have any talent
Pathetically listening
To love songs
While some of my feathered friends
Are grounded by greed
A cold deluge
Stains my t-shirt
The fan blows
Strains of hair into my face
Pathetically missing
Someone I was never with
Could never be with
Would hate if I was with
A sigh of resignation
The desire, my fantasy
A proxy
For one I’m yet to meet
Pathetically dreaming
Up
A more heroic self
A loved self
I’ll admit
I wish for fame
For recognition
I miss the praise
Pathetically not
Knowing
She wasn’t the first
Crush
My hopes of settling down
Normally
Scrambled
As I’m walking along the fence
Pathetically sitting
Alone
I try to smile for a camera
While missing friends
Who don’t feel the same—maybe
Checking sites
That don’t need checking
As I watch time pass
I debate its meaning
Pathetically fearing
I’ve created more waste
Forsaken worth
One day when I know
You’ll reply with the words
I’ve always longed to hear
I’ll explain
All I ever wanted, all the buried pain
One day, maybe, I’ll embrace
My weakness, the flaws I hide
Until then, I’ll pathetically
Act uninterested
Stand-offish
Defeating my desire for a lover
I imagine you’ll understand
These –nonexistent- scars
Pathetically
Pathetically feeling
That despite everything
My worst fault is
Loving
Much more than
I’ve ever been loved
Needing you much more
Then you’ll ever need me
Pathetically loving
Fantasies
Products of a
Wishful Imagination
Pixels, I’ve loved
And gorgeous voices
The self-righteous girl
From down the hall
Pathetically thinking
She would ever give me
A second thought
A third, perhaps
Because I’ve planned
Our union
Our teasing and heated embraces
The way we’d accept fate
Pathetically –nearly- crying
Hearing
Goodbye to You
I never said goodbye
Never hello, either
Just, confessed my madness
Suggested you substitute bricks
Instigated conflict that drove us apart
Pathetically hating
Men
Except those Finns
I want to marry
Or my imaginary soul-mate
Who’s perfect, by the way
The hand I hold when
I think of friends in relationships
Pathetically envying
Couples I see
While I’m sitting
Trying to write
About how I want her
My thoughts are disjointed paragraphs
That kills my hopes
That I have any talent
Pathetically listening
To love songs
While some of my feathered friends
Are grounded by greed
A cold deluge
Stains my t-shirt
The fan blows
Strains of hair into my face
Pathetically missing
Someone I was never with
Could never be with
Would hate if I was with
A sigh of resignation
The desire, my fantasy
A proxy
For one I’m yet to meet
Pathetically dreaming
Up
A more heroic self
A loved self
I’ll admit
I wish for fame
For recognition
I miss the praise
Pathetically not
Knowing
She wasn’t the first
Crush
My hopes of settling down
Normally
Scrambled
As I’m walking along the fence
Pathetically sitting
Alone
I try to smile for a camera
While missing friends
Who don’t feel the same—maybe
Checking sites
That don’t need checking
As I watch time pass
I debate its meaning
Pathetically fearing
I’ve created more waste
Forsaken worth
One day when I know
You’ll reply with the words
I’ve always longed to hear
I’ll explain
All I ever wanted, all the buried pain
One day, maybe, I’ll embrace
My weakness, the flaws I hide
Until then, I’ll pathetically
Act uninterested
Stand-offish
Defeating my desire for a lover
I imagine you’ll understand
These –nonexistent- scars
Friday, June 4, 2010
Deconstruct.
Is probably among (if not) my favorite Epica song.
Because I imagine it being about people uniting to save the world. Like our entire system right now needs to be "deconstructed" and rebuilt with better ideals at the base. Not greed. Not lust. Not apathy.
I quote this song all the time. It's in my signature line for my school e-mail. I used it in a powerpoint for FeelGood. I use it for hope.
If we could see ourselves, the mirror would reflect insanity
Instead we camouflage the flaws that lie within
Condone the suffering we witness as we mingle casually
We need to right ourselves, or else we will derail
I camouflage the flaws that line within.
Within me. Omg. I love this song so much.
So perhaps, it is time to decontrust myself. TO decide what I want, what I need.
How I really feel.
I'm sorry.
Because I imagine it being about people uniting to save the world. Like our entire system right now needs to be "deconstructed" and rebuilt with better ideals at the base. Not greed. Not lust. Not apathy.
I quote this song all the time. It's in my signature line for my school e-mail. I used it in a powerpoint for FeelGood. I use it for hope.
If we could see ourselves, the mirror would reflect insanity
Instead we camouflage the flaws that lie within
Condone the suffering we witness as we mingle casually
We need to right ourselves, or else we will derail
I camouflage the flaws that line within.
Within me. Omg. I love this song so much.
So perhaps, it is time to decontrust myself. TO decide what I want, what I need.
How I really feel.
I'm sorry.
Re-Reading
A lot of my old posts...posts from the past semester. Posts that remind me things weren't as ducky and bunny as I want to convince myself they were.
Maybe I'm still lying to myself. Lying because I refuse to admit that I am anything but wonderful. Sure, I say I hate myself, but I also have this fantasy in which I am a hero; In which everyone loves me, and I always have the answers and do the right thing. I fantasize a perfect world where I'm the best so I don't have to face the reality of my failures. I have this insanely large pool of insecurities, and if you say or do anything that seems to confirm one, I'll get DEFENSIVE. And when I get defensive, I don't care how cruel I am. That's a pattern I'm repeated time and again.
Let's state some truths here. I'm a very jealous person. I'm jealous of those who have more things to do, who are doing more or themselves or others. I'm jealous of those who threaten my standing in other's eyes.
I can never admit I'm wrong. I can't say I'm weak. I can't let you see me as anything but an emotionless, all-knowing person.
I don't know what hurts me anymore. I'm not sure how I feel.
I don't know if you'll understand. Maybe I don't give you enough credit. But I don't know if I can trust you...I'd rather run away and not deal with you...even knowing who you are in my life. Even knowing what my best friend lost. See this is why I don't visit...because I think you'd tell me to go to hell, to stop hurting others in defense of some sadistic misconception.
But to you I just want you to see someone who has changed, WHO IS NOT INSANE. LIKE TWO YEARS AGO. DAMNIT.
I hit the nail on the head. I'm crying. God.
I just want to prove "I'm better." Better than I was. Better than other people. And I do that by fighting, by putting others down. I might love others, but I hate admitting I'm not perfect even more. Until that ends...
When I think about what I've done, it seems somewhat hopeless. Oh Deconstruct...
Maybe I'm still lying to myself. Lying because I refuse to admit that I am anything but wonderful. Sure, I say I hate myself, but I also have this fantasy in which I am a hero; In which everyone loves me, and I always have the answers and do the right thing. I fantasize a perfect world where I'm the best so I don't have to face the reality of my failures. I have this insanely large pool of insecurities, and if you say or do anything that seems to confirm one, I'll get DEFENSIVE. And when I get defensive, I don't care how cruel I am. That's a pattern I'm repeated time and again.
Let's state some truths here. I'm a very jealous person. I'm jealous of those who have more things to do, who are doing more or themselves or others. I'm jealous of those who threaten my standing in other's eyes.
I can never admit I'm wrong. I can't say I'm weak. I can't let you see me as anything but an emotionless, all-knowing person.
I don't know what hurts me anymore. I'm not sure how I feel.
I don't know if you'll understand. Maybe I don't give you enough credit. But I don't know if I can trust you...I'd rather run away and not deal with you...even knowing who you are in my life. Even knowing what my best friend lost. See this is why I don't visit...because I think you'd tell me to go to hell, to stop hurting others in defense of some sadistic misconception.
But to you I just want you to see someone who has changed, WHO IS NOT INSANE. LIKE TWO YEARS AGO. DAMNIT.
I hit the nail on the head. I'm crying. God.
I just want to prove "I'm better." Better than I was. Better than other people. And I do that by fighting, by putting others down. I might love others, but I hate admitting I'm not perfect even more. Until that ends...
When I think about what I've done, it seems somewhat hopeless. Oh Deconstruct...
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Sooner or Later
I don't know if I mentioned this little, slightly funny detail earlier here, but since summer began, I've had is terrible obsession with Michelle Branch. Now all the mouths are gaping! Them: But Amy, you like METAL!!! What's happening?
My response: Well before I can respond I need to quote (read paraphrase) Michelle. She said that she writes songs about a "girl who likes a boy more than the boy likes the girl."
Since the beginning of sophmore year, I'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM. EXCEPT I LIKE ANOTHER GIRL MORE THAN THAT OTHER GIRL LIKES ME. YES HER.
Thus I'm attrached to Michelle Branch's music becuase at this FORK (not caps for any reason other than the fact that I like FORKS...and NOT the town from Twilight...) in the road, I can really relate to all her songs. I can relate to a love song. I might have to quote that until I believe it.
I just also like female musicians. I just also like females.
No, actually I don't really like female singers for their sexuality. I admit that I do find (find is one letter off from FINN) Tarja and Simone GORGEOUS, but first I liked their voice. I admire them--them being females who follow their dreams and let the world hear their voice.
But to get back to the title of this post...I might have to quote Michelle again...THE SONG. YOU KNOW WIKILYRICS DOESN'T LET YOU CUT AND PASTE. WTF? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO QUOTE SONGS? Honestly. The nerve.
"Sooner or Later
You're going to come around
You'll be sorry
When you figure out
That I was always
Everything you needed
Sooner or Later
You're going to wish you had me"
Yeah. I typed that out. Okay. Point being: SOONER OR LATER, EVERYONE ELSE FIGURES OUT WHAT I WAS SAYING IS RIGHT! BECAUSE I AM ALWAYS RIGHT. THANKS YOU, SONG, FOR VINDICATING ME.
Why am I compelled to re-write all Michelle's lyrics to apply them to my life? SUMMER PROJECT.
Geez....WAIT. THAT'S NOT WEIRD. I'M A WRITER. I WRITE THINGS. Whatever gets the creative juices flowing. Like my "fanfiction" about Simone. Read that as AMY YOU SAID YOU HATED FANFICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, BUT THEN YOU WENT AND WROTE A STORY ABOUT SIMONE. STALKER.
I'm not denying my STALKER-NESS.
Fuck, do I ever love my thought processes. OMG. I JUST THOUGHT UP A REALLY AWESOME METAPHOR. COMPARING MY CURRENT MENTAL STATE to...flint? unsharpened caveman tools? OH HOW THAT TURNS ME ON!!!
See. Actually I just saw an imagine in my brain. Now I have to flesh this "image" out.
See (again...attempt two): Let's imagine a caveman lives at the bottom of a cliff that is VERY prone to rock slides. But luckly for him, his house never gets crushed. Why? Because all my stories have GAPING PLOT HOLES. But incidentally, the caveman in my story does NOT have a GAPING HOLE in his roof so we can continue the story, OKAY? Anyway instead of a grassy garden (or my favorite CACTUS GARDEN), Mr. Caveman has a ROCK GARDEN because so many boulders fall on his property every day. If Mr. Caveman didn't do something about the boulder deluge, he'd be overwhelmed by boulders. Imagine those cartoon skits where the character is covered from toe to head (and often beyond) by something that falls on him. Well that's the case here...So Mr. Caveman has to be fast! But Mr. Caveman doesn't just run outside every morning and catch the stones as they fall from the sky. Oh no! He is a caveman and thus OBVIOUSLY the epitome of evolution! So all night, Mr. Caveman sits up devising schemes to deal with the next days crop of rock. Like one day, he thought to carve the stones with this stick that blew into his yard during a recent storm. And this brillant revelation is how "tools" were born. See anthro lesson, right there. Also he thought that, perhaps, he could eat the stones. He made STONE SOUP. Then some thousands of years later some guy wrote a book with the same title. I think. I don't remember. All I know is that WAY BACK WHEN, we went to see some play with a similar title...Anyway, Mr. Caveman became very dependent on the falling rocks because the conflict they created finely honed his cognitive abilities. It was the quite similar to his warrior brothern who sharpened their weapons in order to keep them in the most usable shape.
This story is in dire need of a conflict. I swear I'm such a happy person, all my stories are in the RESOLVED state right when they begin. HAPPY ENDING. MAKE IT HAPPIERS. CAPS LOCK. USE BOLD TEXT. MAKE THE FONT SIZE BIGGER! QUIET HOURS! I THINK NOT!
But one day, the rocks stopped falling from the sky. Mr. Caveman paced around the yard. He looked toward the heavens willing a cascade of rocks to appear. But nothing came. He went back inside. Maybe the magic that protected his home suddenly reserved, and now his garden was the thing protected. But no, his house was neat and tidy as always. So he sat down. He got up and looked out the window. He want outside and looked to the sky for any sign. He sat on a bench rock (a rocking currently in service as a bench...Mr.Caveman CERTAINLY doesn't suffer from LEARNED FIXEDNESS...oh great, psychology...)and stretched out his legs. He imagined himself a warrior with nothing to fight. He might turn aganist his companions out of lust. He would snap like a tree trunk under the weight of one of the boulders that should be falling from the sky right about now. He paced some more. He wanted to scream. I HAVE NOTHING TO DO.
The next day, boulders fell from the sky right on schedule (actually a little early but since Cavemen didn't have clocks, who cares?). Mr. Caveman watched them fall, watched his favorite past time go unattended to. He hadn't pondered creative methods of stone removal last night. Instead he widdled wood, mindlessly uses his hands to do SOMETHING while his mind rotted an the animal corpse under a giant boulder (ummmm? out of character much?). Day came and went. So did night. Night moves faster than day...usually. He didn't wave to the pacing times while his eyes glistened with excitement for the next day. No, he stared blankly at the rocks building up outside. Mr. Caveman widdled a little duck. My dear duck, he said, I have nothing to do. My life sure does suck. Rocks fell outside.
YOU STUPID DUCK. WHY DON'T YOU EVER DO ANYTHING? Mr. Caveman projected while he widdled (psychically, he widdled a carrot, abstractly he widdled away time, his life.
The room Mr. Cavemen widdled in became DARK. As if it had no windows. It had windows except so many stones had fallen that no light could even CREEP (caps because it's a Radiohead song)into them. He sat in the dark, cursing life for throwing him this BORING LOT IN LIFE. Meanwhile, the METAPHORICAL warriors kneeled in puddles of their comrades blood (don't worry, no VIKINGS were injuried in the writing of this story...the wounds were "merely flesh wounds") lamenting the turn of events.
WHY? Everyone asked the heavens.
A wise bird (probably a kiwi because in my stories KIWIS CAN FLY. It's symbolism.) landed atop the pile of boulders and offered an answer. Dear humans who are plagued by conscious thought, your actions seem to want to prove that one must stay busy in order to avoid falling into a trap. Take the sciene-y law (it's a timing traveling bird, okay) about objects in motion desiring to remain in motion. Once we build up momentum say devising BRILLIANT scemes, we don't want to stop, but when something makes us stop, WE CRASH. All the progress we made comes crashing down on us (ironically, in this case, something NOT falling brought about the fall). After a crash, we usually don't feel like hopping back to our feet and running forward. Nope! We want to wallow. We stop seeing what we COULD be doing.
Furthermore, if you don't pursue you passions, your thoughts (which are tailored toward achieving the goal of your passion will SMASH INTO YOU AND BUILD UP AROUND YOU LIKE THE STONES SURROUNDING MR. CAVEMAN'S HOUSE), will overwhelm you. You'll start talking to yourself and getting angry.
Author's note: 1. Toward the beginning of this story, I remembered this game we played in elementary school gym class called "clean up your own backyard." You had to through these balls over a volleyball net as fast as you can so when time is called your side has less balls on the ground.
2. I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT ELSE I WAS GOING TO SAY HERE.
I don't want to stop writing right now...like a viking doens't want to stop sharpening his axe....
But really, thank you song. For firing my imagination.
My response: Well before I can respond I need to quote (read paraphrase) Michelle. She said that she writes songs about a "girl who likes a boy more than the boy likes the girl."
Since the beginning of sophmore year, I'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM. EXCEPT I LIKE ANOTHER GIRL MORE THAN THAT OTHER GIRL LIKES ME. YES HER.
Thus I'm attrached to Michelle Branch's music becuase at this FORK (not caps for any reason other than the fact that I like FORKS...and NOT the town from Twilight...) in the road, I can really relate to all her songs. I can relate to a love song. I might have to quote that until I believe it.
I just also like female musicians. I just also like females.
No, actually I don't really like female singers for their sexuality. I admit that I do find (find is one letter off from FINN) Tarja and Simone GORGEOUS, but first I liked their voice. I admire them--them being females who follow their dreams and let the world hear their voice.
But to get back to the title of this post...I might have to quote Michelle again...THE SONG. YOU KNOW WIKILYRICS DOESN'T LET YOU CUT AND PASTE. WTF? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO QUOTE SONGS? Honestly. The nerve.
"Sooner or Later
You're going to come around
You'll be sorry
When you figure out
That I was always
Everything you needed
Sooner or Later
You're going to wish you had me"
Yeah. I typed that out. Okay. Point being: SOONER OR LATER, EVERYONE ELSE FIGURES OUT WHAT I WAS SAYING IS RIGHT! BECAUSE I AM ALWAYS RIGHT. THANKS YOU, SONG, FOR VINDICATING ME.
Why am I compelled to re-write all Michelle's lyrics to apply them to my life? SUMMER PROJECT.
Geez....WAIT. THAT'S NOT WEIRD. I'M A WRITER. I WRITE THINGS. Whatever gets the creative juices flowing. Like my "fanfiction" about Simone. Read that as AMY YOU SAID YOU HATED FANFICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, BUT THEN YOU WENT AND WROTE A STORY ABOUT SIMONE. STALKER.
I'm not denying my STALKER-NESS.
Fuck, do I ever love my thought processes. OMG. I JUST THOUGHT UP A REALLY AWESOME METAPHOR. COMPARING MY CURRENT MENTAL STATE to...flint? unsharpened caveman tools? OH HOW THAT TURNS ME ON!!!
See. Actually I just saw an imagine in my brain. Now I have to flesh this "image" out.
See (again...attempt two): Let's imagine a caveman lives at the bottom of a cliff that is VERY prone to rock slides. But luckly for him, his house never gets crushed. Why? Because all my stories have GAPING PLOT HOLES. But incidentally, the caveman in my story does NOT have a GAPING HOLE in his roof so we can continue the story, OKAY? Anyway instead of a grassy garden (or my favorite CACTUS GARDEN), Mr. Caveman has a ROCK GARDEN because so many boulders fall on his property every day. If Mr. Caveman didn't do something about the boulder deluge, he'd be overwhelmed by boulders. Imagine those cartoon skits where the character is covered from toe to head (and often beyond) by something that falls on him. Well that's the case here...So Mr. Caveman has to be fast! But Mr. Caveman doesn't just run outside every morning and catch the stones as they fall from the sky. Oh no! He is a caveman and thus OBVIOUSLY the epitome of evolution! So all night, Mr. Caveman sits up devising schemes to deal with the next days crop of rock. Like one day, he thought to carve the stones with this stick that blew into his yard during a recent storm. And this brillant revelation is how "tools" were born. See anthro lesson, right there. Also he thought that, perhaps, he could eat the stones. He made STONE SOUP. Then some thousands of years later some guy wrote a book with the same title. I think. I don't remember. All I know is that WAY BACK WHEN, we went to see some play with a similar title...Anyway, Mr. Caveman became very dependent on the falling rocks because the conflict they created finely honed his cognitive abilities. It was the quite similar to his warrior brothern who sharpened their weapons in order to keep them in the most usable shape.
This story is in dire need of a conflict. I swear I'm such a happy person, all my stories are in the RESOLVED state right when they begin. HAPPY ENDING. MAKE IT HAPPIERS. CAPS LOCK. USE BOLD TEXT. MAKE THE FONT SIZE BIGGER! QUIET HOURS! I THINK NOT!
But one day, the rocks stopped falling from the sky. Mr. Caveman paced around the yard. He looked toward the heavens willing a cascade of rocks to appear. But nothing came. He went back inside. Maybe the magic that protected his home suddenly reserved, and now his garden was the thing protected. But no, his house was neat and tidy as always. So he sat down. He got up and looked out the window. He want outside and looked to the sky for any sign. He sat on a bench rock (a rocking currently in service as a bench...Mr.Caveman CERTAINLY doesn't suffer from LEARNED FIXEDNESS...oh great, psychology...)and stretched out his legs. He imagined himself a warrior with nothing to fight. He might turn aganist his companions out of lust. He would snap like a tree trunk under the weight of one of the boulders that should be falling from the sky right about now. He paced some more. He wanted to scream. I HAVE NOTHING TO DO.
The next day, boulders fell from the sky right on schedule (actually a little early but since Cavemen didn't have clocks, who cares?). Mr. Caveman watched them fall, watched his favorite past time go unattended to. He hadn't pondered creative methods of stone removal last night. Instead he widdled wood, mindlessly uses his hands to do SOMETHING while his mind rotted an the animal corpse under a giant boulder (ummmm? out of character much?). Day came and went. So did night. Night moves faster than day...usually. He didn't wave to the pacing times while his eyes glistened with excitement for the next day. No, he stared blankly at the rocks building up outside. Mr. Caveman widdled a little duck. My dear duck, he said, I have nothing to do. My life sure does suck. Rocks fell outside.
YOU STUPID DUCK. WHY DON'T YOU EVER DO ANYTHING? Mr. Caveman projected while he widdled (psychically, he widdled a carrot, abstractly he widdled away time, his life.
The room Mr. Cavemen widdled in became DARK. As if it had no windows. It had windows except so many stones had fallen that no light could even CREEP (caps because it's a Radiohead song)into them. He sat in the dark, cursing life for throwing him this BORING LOT IN LIFE. Meanwhile, the METAPHORICAL warriors kneeled in puddles of their comrades blood (don't worry, no VIKINGS were injuried in the writing of this story...the wounds were "merely flesh wounds") lamenting the turn of events.
WHY? Everyone asked the heavens.
A wise bird (probably a kiwi because in my stories KIWIS CAN FLY. It's symbolism.) landed atop the pile of boulders and offered an answer. Dear humans who are plagued by conscious thought, your actions seem to want to prove that one must stay busy in order to avoid falling into a trap. Take the sciene-y law (it's a timing traveling bird, okay) about objects in motion desiring to remain in motion. Once we build up momentum say devising BRILLIANT scemes, we don't want to stop, but when something makes us stop, WE CRASH. All the progress we made comes crashing down on us (ironically, in this case, something NOT falling brought about the fall). After a crash, we usually don't feel like hopping back to our feet and running forward. Nope! We want to wallow. We stop seeing what we COULD be doing.
Furthermore, if you don't pursue you passions, your thoughts (which are tailored toward achieving the goal of your passion will SMASH INTO YOU AND BUILD UP AROUND YOU LIKE THE STONES SURROUNDING MR. CAVEMAN'S HOUSE), will overwhelm you. You'll start talking to yourself and getting angry.
Author's note: 1. Toward the beginning of this story, I remembered this game we played in elementary school gym class called "clean up your own backyard." You had to through these balls over a volleyball net as fast as you can so when time is called your side has less balls on the ground.
2. I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT ELSE I WAS GOING TO SAY HERE.
I don't want to stop writing right now...like a viking doens't want to stop sharpening his axe....
But really, thank you song. For firing my imagination.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Honesty.
I tell people who come to me for advise this one thing: You have to be honest with yourself. Listen to your heart. You'll know what you really want to do.
I...I haven't done that. I've been lying to myself. Hiding. Running away?
Let's be serious here. I'm disappointed in myself because I let valuable opportunities go. Now I'm sitting here with nothing important to do. Like I used to...playing video games for extensive hours.
Why? Because I was afraid. I didn't want to go out of my way.
I'm trapped here under my own doing. I said that "I am going crazy, and I feel like I'm trapped inside a box wanting only to scream."
I'm angry because this nothingness is not the life I want...not even for a few months between school semester.
I had the chance to do the one thing I've always wanted to...and I didn't.
NO REGRETS. MOVE FORWARD.
I'm listening to the music from Xenosaga. It's been four years. Since that summer I waited for the conclusion the series. I almost forget...the effect that game had on my life. I think chaos was the one who taught me to "believe in the light of mankind's will."
Yet, there is no going back, no reliving the past. I learned all I could in those days. Now I'm here. I have to act.
So let's leave it at this: I'm sorry, Amy. I guess we really weren't ready. Right now, we have to find things that we can still do. It'll be alright.
I almost feel like I want to cry. Because I remember. Too well. The way I used to feel. It's so foreign. Everything that isn't NOW is foreign. It's hard for me to believe THIS wasn't ALWAYS my life.
"We have to open new doors and close those that we leave behind."
Dance of Fate. Epica. WHO BETTER COME BACK TO CHICAGO IN NOVEMBER.
I...I haven't done that. I've been lying to myself. Hiding. Running away?
Let's be serious here. I'm disappointed in myself because I let valuable opportunities go. Now I'm sitting here with nothing important to do. Like I used to...playing video games for extensive hours.
Why? Because I was afraid. I didn't want to go out of my way.
I'm trapped here under my own doing. I said that "I am going crazy, and I feel like I'm trapped inside a box wanting only to scream."
I'm angry because this nothingness is not the life I want...not even for a few months between school semester.
I had the chance to do the one thing I've always wanted to...and I didn't.
NO REGRETS. MOVE FORWARD.
I'm listening to the music from Xenosaga. It's been four years. Since that summer I waited for the conclusion the series. I almost forget...the effect that game had on my life. I think chaos was the one who taught me to "believe in the light of mankind's will."
Yet, there is no going back, no reliving the past. I learned all I could in those days. Now I'm here. I have to act.
So let's leave it at this: I'm sorry, Amy. I guess we really weren't ready. Right now, we have to find things that we can still do. It'll be alright.
I almost feel like I want to cry. Because I remember. Too well. The way I used to feel. It's so foreign. Everything that isn't NOW is foreign. It's hard for me to believe THIS wasn't ALWAYS my life.
"We have to open new doors and close those that we leave behind."
Dance of Fate. Epica. WHO BETTER COME BACK TO CHICAGO IN NOVEMBER.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
