theinnocence, posts by tag: society - LiveJournal

there is so much going on and i want to tell you all about it.
the emotions, the motions, the madness, the stalemates, the white knuckle gripping, the pink lips wetting by your tongue or mine. does it really matter?
but i have no time.
i just have no time.
most nights i only get about 3 to 4 hours of sleep because there is just no time.
classes, homework, movie productions, loved ones, sunny days, forgetting meals, meetings, to-do lists as large as my lust.
there just is no time.
i have to actually schedule moments to just be alone.
it's like i'm a mother with children that can't be held because they are almost tangible manifestions of vastness/ideas and not physical beings.
but they still need my attention.
how do you nurture that? how do you cultivate that and reap and sow that?

soon, hopefully, soon i can tell you all about it.
when paint is drying and i'm waiting for returned phone calls and food is cooking there is a quiet moment.
a moment that i feel the pull to come to the white box and write it all down.
a moment to try to express the sheer beauty of everything, even the sadness and the pain.
a quiet time marinated in music just right for it, culling the words out of me, coaxing them like trying to soothe an apprehensive feral dog that just wants to be loved.

i thought i lost the ability to write, but it slipped back out when saying dirty things to pure ears and watching the pale skin turn to a panting blush.
for the first time in my life i long for more hours of the day, not because i'm happy, but because i want to get so much done and STILL have time to dream.

dream, dream, my dreams.
they have turned corners and flipped over, showing me things of my past i thought i dealt with and was done with
and yet they seem to be regrowing.
i want to sleep, i want to dream, i want to feel alive and enveloped in life like i do in my dreams
but it's hard when instead it shows you your mistakes and asks you what you would of done if things were different.

dream from last night: i and some others were in a old vw bus traveling to places unknown. my ex is one of them. he's smoking up with the others and i'm trying to sleep but it's beautiful outside when i realize we're being stalked by a killer. eventually they listen to me and we pull over and run into an exhibit of green (not the color, the impact) houses that are movable and compact but not as ugly as trailers. designed so well. it turns into a store and she's following me. she calls herself by my name and she's dripping with evil deeds and intentions. i wonder if she's a manifestation of everything wrong i wanted to do out of emotions. my ex is there still, and he kind of offers to try to protect me but as usual, he's apprehensive and keeps looking at the sparklies. he makes the motion as if he's about to, but doesn't. she's hunting me down and every once in awhile she stabs me. i turn corners and try to hide behind displays but she finds me and i run again. eventually we're back in the car. i'm dying and bleeding and blood pours out of my mouth. it's beautiful again outside. the sun is shining on the fields of wheat as we roll by in our clankity old bus. she sits behind me and she's smiling and he sits in front of me and he's making polite intellectual philosophical conversation while smoking up as usual and i'm slowly drifting away. i'm slowly dying and nobody notices or does anything because it would break the feel of the mood. and she smiles behind me. she smiles cause she knows she's taking over.

dream of the night before: i am in the bathtub just like i was when i was 5. i'm splishsplashing but i'm who i am now. my family is out of the bathroom but you can hear it all going on. the running and the talking and the tv playing just like the house was when we were kids. i'm playing with toys. making them splash and dive into bubbles. he walks in, a boy from my past. tall and blonde and he's talking to my dad and getting undressed like it's normal and usual. he walks around the bathroom naked while talking out the door to my family who seems to accept him like he's one of us and has been for so long. i'm terrified and confused. what the hell is going on? what's he doing here? why is he getting undressed to climb in the tub with me? he stop talking to everybody out the door and starts climbing in talking to me like this is normal, still chattering. i scream in terror. i have no clue what is going on and i'm terrified at the circumstances and actions.

i do all of this and yet i have no clue or idea or what i want when it's all said and done.
i don't know where i want to go or who my career mind wants me to be.
all i know is which hand i want to hold right now and that i want to feel fulfilled in so many aspects of my life.
i am working to feel respected and as if my presence is not just an honor but a joy and something people look forward to.
that i am needed, wanted and cherished and my work (whatever that may be) is desired and relished.

i just have no clue as to what i want any other outcome to be. actual actuality i have not the faintest idea.
all i have IS ideas, summations, generalizations of feelings i want to swim in as an end result.

i was never good at the reality and materialistic basis of grounding.
even my friends, the closest to me, say i'm always off in space.
i love it there, i just wish i wasn't so cold and that the rest of the world can see the point of view that physical being, really isn't the nessicity we kind of think it is.

until then, i'll wrestle with my ideas and struggle with how to make then touchable to otehrs and my life easier.
and that is why i have no time.
no time to do anything but everything.
cause that's the only way.
just busy yourself till you prove the world that busying yourself just isn't the answer.

i'm sitting at a mac and typing to my friends. i'm tired and starting to crave the granny apple and corn muffins mikie made. too bad he's down at the other set of computers.

some of the artwork on display here is fucking ugly as all hell. you would think that an art school would have standards. should i just piss in a glass, taint it with food coloring, spill in it on a canvas and claim it's abstract body watercolours? i think it would sell. some of this shit has price tags.

"but really, it's from me! you can't get any more personal with a work of art than i have!" maybe except to fuck it raw.

because it's cold as fuck up in cleveland, i had to wear my winter stuff onto the flights down here. big coat, scarf cat made me and the beret my mom wore. cat's laughing at me because i brought a beret to savannah. she's telling me i should snap my fingers and wear all black. she's laughing at me for having a beret at an art school. i'm not wearing the god damned thing here now! i mean, come on! i'm not THAT ghey!

i'm in love with the spanish moss and i've seen plenty of dear. the greenery and the parks are just breathtaking and i haven't seen much because neither of us have any money, but we're gonna drive around later and i want to see the beach.

i got a tour to go to in 90 minutes. gonna take me around the school and show me things. this place is crazy. like i said to my friends, it's like somebody jacked off onto a map of this city and l the splatters fall where they may, and that is where they turned the buildings into the school. i wish it was one main campus, but noooooooo. my fat ass is gonna drop right off with all the walking and the student diet. beans and sneakers are going to be an important part of daily life.

i got my transcripts with me and my portfolio. i realized my father and i made a mistake on the cds i brought, so it's missing on image cause i wasn't thinking and was in too much of a hurry and didn't just fricking relax while putting it all together. at least it looks awesome.

it's really beautiful here. i can't emphasize that enough. i really am in love.

i did have a dream about me splitting into two people and one of me got robbed while the other me was with my family at a fair eating candy apples. the first me woke up in the street with my wallet missing and wondering what the fuck happened. i remember going into my apartment building and going to a party the sorority girls were having and they passed me a crack pipe. that's when i blacked out and got robbed. by fucking bimbo blondes smoking crack! can you believe that shit? ROBBED!

i look lame, i'm wearing this giant sticker that says VISITOR. it's like proclaiming to the world "rob me! i want to go to an expensive school so i could possibly have money!" good thing i don't. ha! take that impoverished and desperate america! you can't take from me what i don't have!

i worry a lot. i think it's part of my mental condition. i'm not as paranoid as i was before. thinking people could hear my thoughts and stuff like that. that's mostly gone, but the worrying, holy shit that's exploded. i'm nervous almost ALL of the time. shakey hands and thoughts like "i'm gonna get mugged" when i step outside or "i'm going to get in a car crash and die" as i get into somebody's four wheeled metal machines, so i buckle up as quick as i can. it don't matter who's driving or where. i could be on a fricking bus and think we're going to get rammed from the side of the thing! i mean, jeezus cryst i can't stop worrying.

i think once i get out of the house in cleveland and become really active and get involved with people and interact and stretch my mind and challenge myself, most of that will go away. at least that is what i'm hoping. that the worrying and the nervousness just piss away like there is no tomorrow. that and all this fucking weight i put on could piss off too, for all i give a damn. fuck a bunch of that shit. stupid weight.


the asain next to me s singing in his... uhm... moontalk. i have NO clue what this kid is singing or what language. but he's digging it and that is what's cool. dude, he's like, totally getting down now. he's practically dancing! he's doing the chair dancing i used to do all the time, but he's thrashing about like he's having a fit of the twitches.

i think i just might like it here. i just need to get used to it. i want seafood but don't have the cash for the prices here. i wanna wear spanish moss on my head and that just might keep the crazies with knives away.

speaking of which, i am gonna try to open up a PayPal account. i don’t want x-mas presents this year, i would like some cash. i’m gonna save up all my cash for the move down here. i estimate about 2 grand for the moving truck,  the gas for the truck, the rent, the deposit, the pet deposit and food until i get financial aid (if i get that much) money to pay for the rest of the semester. ideally i would want 3k for all of that and then books and supplies, but that is a WHOLE lot of money. but yeah, every little bit helps. A dollar or two here and there instead of x-mas presents, give x-mas cheer!

Oh, by the way, while i'm here, i’m taking pictures again. isn't that the greatest thing?

that asain kid is now singing all high pitched and shit. it's cracking me up. i think i love the guy.

7000inaweek is making amazing progress. I honestly will never be able to thank you enough for all your donations and re-posts. Over the last few days I have been overcome by your generosity and willingness to help.

Last night I read my mom some of the things you all had to say and I told her about the site. I am not sure if she really understood but I think she was smiling for a moment. My father cried when I told him. you honestly have no idea what this means to me. I have a very, very hard time asking anyone for help. To make this move was honestly one of the most humbling and hardest moments of my life. However the response I have gotten from people, the fact that my story has helped people in their lives has made it more rewarding. Thank you all... I can never, ever, ever repay you for your support. I have been though some rough times but I can honestly say this may be the hardest thing I have ever faced. To know I am not facing it alone means more than you know.

-Selma Pittman

i rather enjoy taking hour long strolls around the back ends of my neighborhood. i have a route that is the basis of my walks and then i derive from that how it pleases me at the time. always with my dog leash in hand (dog attached to the leash) and headphones in my ears (music player attached to those). wearing my winged hoodie and a wayward awkward smile as i skip or sing along with a black plastic bag in my hand.

well, one of the major parts of my walks is down one street called scottsdale. and i know it's been about 35 minutes when i hit avalon. i decide then to turn or keep going. that's my trusting post. my marker. a black post with stylized street signs saying "scottsdale" and "avalon".

my neighborhood is a very nice one. tree lined and brick houses. good schools and manicured lawns. kids playing in the front yards, solid family dogs. this is the orange streetlight of american dreams.

well, a few days ago somebody dumped a body at scottsdale and avalon. it had been brutally murdered and tossed out of a moving car. a 26 year old boy.

since this and add to it this is the neighborhood my brother and i got shot at (actually SHOT) while going down the street to get chinese food, i won't be taking long walks anymore. the innocence of jaunts at dusk illuminated by purple skies and orange street lamps guiding my way.

no more.

it's a shame. what i needed was to get out of the house MORE, not less.
and cutlery loved being out for over an hour. even is she panted and gasped, she was still as giddy the last minute outside as she was the first.

the great thing about depression is that it subdues all other emotions. well, that's only great when you're not depressed. confusion sometimes is the key and sometimes it's the struggle to clear mind.

when i'm laying in bed with my hand over my forehead and thinking about how clammy my palms are, i get a rise in the middle of my chest that ends before it crests. i think it's mostly anger but who could tell? in a rational mind, in a rational state, i KNOW i would be angry at myself. angry for "letting" me get like this when i know there is no "letting" involved. it just feels like silence. soild you-can-cut-through silence. thick like are gravy. and it's slow moving. everything you say or do is slow. slow slow slow and silent. shades of blue and grey. it's calming as well. strange that, the calm associated with something like this.

so many people think you can just snap out of depression, what those people don't realize is the struggle. the fight. it's a million little battles you have to beat, starting in the morning wondering if you should even bother to get out of bed and then if you should eat at all and if you do want to eat, should you eat enough to try to choke yourself.

it sounds violent, but it's all done in a very passive manner. some might call it futile, but that is THEIR depression, not mine. it may get to that point, but i never think of futility. i just think in manners. in what manner (do i feel/do i think/should i act)? a stationary bike you really don't have to pedal fast, just as long as you pedal at all.

i wish i felt angry. anger makes you change things. may it be a situation or your perception, but things change. depression is stagnant. i wish my emotions felt like slow dancing, trying to woo one another, instead of moving in a slow motion eye rolling blink.

my older brother came over today and we were able to give him presents and seeing him happy made me happy momentarily. i just wish i felt happy more often. it's addictive, being happy. once you taste it you want more and more and more of it till you feel that way all the time. who is gonna deny that as a common truth?

my last doctor and therapist visit, S.A.D. was brought up and they both mentioned i need more light in my life. both real and artificial. right now, cleveland is a mass of grey. grey morning, grey afternoons, grey evenings. grey grey grey. not much sun that way. so i try to keep my bright ass overhead lights on when i'm in the basement and i try to sit where there is a light when i am upstairs. i need more light. i need to absorb it. let it become part of me. make me a creature of light. i thought buddhism would help me with that, but i guess i was wrong. it needs to be sunlight.

i need to live in sunnier, warmer climate.

i'm reading fiction. it's a book i already read. i'm breezing right through it even though i forgot the story totally when i picked it up the other day. looked at it and said "fuck, i forgot what this is about. might as well read it again." and as i read it again, i remember why i like the author. i just seem to fall in place in his mind. i have almost all of his books and though t hey are dark, they are spiritual. you're gonna laugh... it's christopher pike.

anyways, almost all my books i own are either spiritual or dark. buddhism, crhistianity, self enlightenment and serial killers, zombies, the macabre. all i want is understanding of all things. deviances as well as self fulfillment. it's all an artform. oh yeah, i got books on art as well. forgot about those cause i figure the other ones to be about the art of living and misunderstanding.

i miss my mother a lot these days. i saw a greyhound bus the other day and i associate her with those. i associate her and family pain with greyhound buses. always coming and going. struggle to see one another and conflict. bittersweet. yearning and longing and fighting and screaming. so much miscommunication and misunderstanding. people not even knowing what they want or what to do to fill those wants. most of the days we went to the greyhound station, the days were grey. we should of lived in a warmer climate with sunnier days.

oh wait, we did. it was called california.

dad told me that when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she hopped on a plane with my older brother never to return. she smoked a lot of cigarettes and dyed her hair black. dad fasted and prayed for 40 days and 40 nights for her return. when she came back, she had an attitude, but she came back.

heh. sunny days, warmer climate. i guess that makes for attitude. or maybe it's just l.a. heh.

it's after 2 a.m. maybe i should go attempt sleep again. i think i'll read a couple more chapters in my book. dr said reading helps with the memory and i am having major memory problems. another of the many symptoms of depression. strange how that works. you would think sitting around all day thinking would encourage memory, instead it kind of dwindles it away.

maybe tomorrow my dad and i will go to the cemetery and take pictures of the trees and their colours. so beautiful this time of year. every tree looking like it's on fire and the wind making the "flames" look all that much more real. watch them fall from the sky and they go from flames to confetti in a matter of seconds. so beautiful, so wondrous. and all it is is a stage of death. once again, spirituality and morbidity go hand in hand.

i've been sleeping to dream a lot lately. but my dreams, they are becoming dangerous to me, you see. they are more alive than i feel when i'm awake and wandering around.

not all of the dreams are almost elating and none of the bad ones have gone and transformed into nightmares. some days i wake up with foreboding. some days i wake up feeling like i lived a whole lifetime.

one dream was about my art teacher who is slowly dying of cancer. it was very sad and i woke up wishing i could hug him. it's been recurring in my mind very much as of late. just today i learned that even though he is up and about and working, he's on a feeding tube and that just makes my heart ache. i've been thinking about him for a period longer than a week and i learn this. i feel so helpless knowing somebody i love is going through such a terrible thing.

another dream had phone booths made of old wood with peeling paint floating above my head. hundreds of them. the sky was filled with people making phone calls to one another and to people down below. i had to open my arms wide and look at the sky with my eyes closed. just to feel all that communication in the air and then it was disrupted by a chase of dark shadow people coming after me and my close friends.

one dream was about some really attractive jewish boy hiding in my backyard who wanted to marry me but was flustered and he was always hunched over while the backyard kept transforming and expanding and contracting. seeming bigger when it was smaller and smaller when it was bigger and cramming things into it that aren't there and taking out things that are.

there is a lot of old wood with peeling and chipped paint in my current dreams. things made of wood looking like they can or are falling apart. just looking like it, though.

i went to a seminar for the school i want to attend and i went alone. a big step for me, being in a room full of strangers all alone.

i used to not be this way. i used to be outgoing and loud and full of vitality. i wasn't shy, i wasn't reserved, i wasn't fat and i wasn't worried so much about everything. but now i am all those things and all the good things i wasted on youth. as mr corgan says "youth is waste don the young".

i went and sat alone with my folder full of information and a cheap pen which i promptly chewed on. i listened to every word that was said while i stared at the other people there to learn and ask questions. being in a city that is known for it's rich inhabitants and well off jewish neighborhood, i was the most underprivileged person there and big nosed jewish girls whining and rollings their eyes when parents asked questions. they were wearing the strangest of clothes, the children seemed so forgein to me. i couldn't feel any connection to them and we were all artists.

one boy made me happy, though. he had piles of books he drew in which i found impressive and then i saw his hands. he had three fingers total from the ten and he made all that art.

i asked a few questions and one being "i'm a bit older than all the other students here applying, i was wondering what the age differences in the school are" and then everybody turned to stare at me. i whimpered, lowered my head and pulled my hood down even farther and waited for the answer when i said "you all don't HAVE to stare at me, you know."

after the question and answer session, i had a few hours to kill before my session to help with my portfolio. i just sat and stared off into space and drank lots of water and peed a few times and stared off into space and doodled and looked at my pictures and stared off into space.

they never called my name so i told them so and they ushered me past everybody else and plopped me in front of a rather large black man wearing granola lover clothes. he looked none to amused with anything in life as of late and i took the lid off my box that i was using to hold my photos an my hands were shaking as well as my voice when i started talking. suddenly i wasn't shaky anymore and i started showing him my images. he talked about what i needed to have in there from a transfer student point of view and i admitted i don't have any of my old classroom art from college cause that was over 7 years ago.

he told me my photography was "off the charts" and i was beaming so hard i forgot to think and ask any questions. it was on my way out that i thought of all the things i should of said. i'm the queen of that land. after leaving something i know exactly what i should of done and said and i wear that crown almost proudly cause if i didn't wear it proudly, all my shame would be seen.

then i sat and waited some more in a glass enclosure to the front door and wait till i saw my uncle pax and my younger brother phil pull up to the door. it's always comforting to see somebody who'll instantly call me a fartface and still love me.

i'm lacking motivation cause i sleep so much and i'm lacking artistic inspiration because of lack of social contact and i lack social contact because i lack money and am way too shy. not to mention i don't like going out alone.

so the other night my dad calls my older brother and asks what he's doing. so i head over there and we paint giant dots on his walls. social contact and artistic inspiration go hand in hand.

somebody once posed a question to me:

would you rather struggle to make it and still create or what if somebody says you'll never have to worry again about anything as long as you create but you have to do it in the confines of their home and never leave.

always take the struggle. live the life. living life is what is the inspiration.

go out and do things. don't let laundry lists o things to do confine you. call your friends. be spontaneous. don't hide behind the excuse of your office job. don't say you're too tired after work. go out. not everything costs money. hold a friend's hand. laugh lots. go do it. don't take it for granted. it and they won't always be there.

be adventurous. i would if i could or had the means. nobody wants to be adventurous alone. eventually they'll want somebody by their side to share everything with. i WANT to be adventurous.

maybe i just need more exotic cheese sin my life and then i'll be okay.

now go kiss your lover and tell them thank you for being there when you go to sleep and when you wake up. don't take that for granted either.
don't take anything for granted. you life is too short, periods of loneliness are always too long.

it's okay to be alone, it's not okay to be lonely.

i'm tired and rambling. please excuse me.

Living should be perpetual and universal benediction.
- Why Lazurus Laughed by Wei Wu Wei

Through the progress of natural science the totality of the world and our oneness with it becomes clearer to our spirit. When this realization of the complete unity is not only an intellectual realization, when it opens up our whole being to the light of total consciousness, then it becomes a radiant joy, an all encompassing love. - Rabindranath Tagore

autumn nights seems to have their own kind of crisp silence. i walk my dog as the sun sets with my headphones on but i still hear the crunch of leaves and branches. i like the way my feet sound as they pound pavement and the way a streetlight makes me feel. for some reason, orange lights against an inky blue night make me feel secretly giddy and like i have to hide things in orange leaves on dirty wonderful ground.

revenge. it's got to be revenge. it has to be because i love summer so much. cellophane blue skies and vivid green grass like taffeta gowns.

i saw sunflowers, yesterday, in the garden out in the country. yeah, we took a ride out there just to get out of the city. it was beautiful, of course. untouched by the hectic dreamlike state of city living. i wanted to see my mother's grave but we went to see the giant statue of mother mary again instead.

it's time to take my medication. i detest the way the night pills stick in my throat, no matter how much water i tend to suck down with the chemicals.
let me swallow this shit down.

my time is not now. i'm not the best and might never will be, but i feel good and that is all that matters to me.
i'm sick in wicked ways and i'm sick in amazing ways and i'm sick in sad ways and i'm sick on wondrous ways.
i just can't forget i'm sick and that is why some things happen, like some moods bloom out of open air instead of through the ground like they are supposed to.
i am not my sickness, my sickness is not me.

there are so few things in this world that i hate. a good handle of things i dislike desperately and a garbage truck full of things i despise. this world, this place amazes me so. there are very few people i am in love with as much as i love life and this world. sometimes i want to walk up to everybody while i'm walking down the street and like a ghost whisper in their ears "i love you hopelessly. thank you for living." and just float away to the next one. everybody. leave not one soul untouched. if they flinch or not or hear me or not is all up to them. i think the world ignores what i say most of the time anyways, but i still wish i had the power to do what i want to say. i have nothing to say here in my dungeon.

being alone here in cleveland has me thinking a lot about my friends. the ones i have. the ones i know i have and they know they have me. they are EVERYWHERE. i have too many and none are here. so it makes me think further, about the one si use to have and travel, distance got between us. all t he "i'll keep in touch"'s i hear and all the "i'll never for get you"'s and the "i'll write"'s. they all turn up to be well intentioned lies. i try, but it seems to backfire or not fire at all. broken communication gun.

then there are the ones i am no longer friends with due to circumstance.

i'll be right back, i need a hair brush.

i miss friends i don't have anymore
well, i miss parts of them.
i don't miss the reasons why we're no longer friends.
i miss the reasons why we became friends.

my hair is getting long again. so strange how fast it grows. it's past my shoulders now when this time last year it was near the tops of my ears. it's silky too and i never condition it. so soft. so brown. it drives me crazy with it's plainness. i need pink streaks in it with darker brown streaks. just highlights. an maybe some blondes. that would be oh so nice.

so soft.

life. her thighs are soft and i want to slide my hand down between them. i want her to make me feel special. i want her to want me around. she's delicate and inherently strong. she won't break but she leads you on. she's a strong girl, always bursting with life. always raging. always quiet. always alive and blushing and cold and revered. she's amazing. i wish i knew her better but i always feel awkward when it's just her and i alone. it always feels like the first time. i never get used to her.

there is a giant gap between me and the rest of the world. somedays it feels like there is only one continent and i'm on the east side looking out to the ocean wishing i could see the west coast from that point. but i can't. there's a whole world between us. maybe a giant divide in the middle of the country. something i can't cross. just another obstacle. just another thing telling me i'm not connected to the world. not connected, no matter what the internet says to me. heh.

i'm reasonably sleepy but contemplating selling the prints i had made up for my portfolio review to get money to pay for schooling stuff. i wonder if anybody would buy them. thinking 75$ a pop plus shipping. nah. for all how cool people say my stuff is, not that many actually buy. i have some broke ass friends. ha ha ha. why can't i be a materialistic ass? i think i would get farther in life or something. who effing knows. i don't, cause i ain't. hell i'm gonna start going through stuff AGAIN and throwing more things out. too much stuff!

i want a polaroid camera. i've never had one except the izone one btripp sent me cause it had a a digicam on it that wasn't even 1MP. i was thinking of an art project where i get a polaroid camera and film somehow and i take pictures and some people pay to get random images. they never know what it is they will be getting, just that they will be getting pictures from me. i wonder if they make frames for polaroids?!?

my books have been selling fairly well. i'm no bestseller, but the few people who do buy them tell me they enjoy them very much. they even say it enthusiastically. can your believe it? people!

sometimes when i'm out and about or riding in the backseat of a car and looking out the window at all the people. or sometimes when i'm on an escalator or an airplane or inside a store i stop being anxious and i stop being afraid and i stop panicking. only sometimes, though. only sometimes. and in those sometimes i sometimes look at people individually and think "i should pray everyday and thank god i am who i am. everybody should do the same. everybody should be kinder to one another. we're all the same. my soul is mine. their soul is t heirs. but my should could of easily ended up in their body and theirs in somebody else's. it's all so easy and yet we still can't get along because we see races or judge each other or many other negative things. we forget we could of been that person and that person could of been us.

good gawd my skin itches. if you lift my shirt, i look like i have a million pin pricks.
can you bleed to death from scratching?
my boobs are lonely. [cold like sniff]
i think i should go to bed.

1/6/12 months since i moved here

prosphorosasks: Do you interface with reality/the world/whatever differently with people around and without? If there is a difference, what are some of its traits, and what does it mean to you, if anything?
this is a hard question to answer. i think EVERYBODY acts differently when they are alone as opposed to the rest of the world. if they don't i'm missing out on a whole world of new.

i do think finding real love is when you can act the way you truly are (and for some people that is only when they are alone) and you feel comfortable enough to be that way around the other person 24/7. and all the good stuff about it is magnified a million times over and seen as amazing and wonderful and a whole world to discover in a gleeful manner.

yeah... something like that.

otherwise i am nervous as fuck anymore around other people and not at all when i am alone. or with my dog. or with my stuffed animals. i can go on and on with inanimate objects that i feel have their own personalities but i won't.


What is your current favorite peace of art (any medium)?
my favorite art for the past 10 or so years in The Death Of Marat by Jacques-Louis David. oil on canvas. it's as tall as i am.
for more information on this painting, look [here]


ninjastyle asks: what are your views on religion?
i have no real view son religion. i consider myself a buddhist but by philosophy and not religion. i used to be catholic but a series of events made me see life in a new way. i even wanted to be a nun!

now i just believe that anybody should be able and practice any religion they want to as long as it doesn't harm anyone. i wish more modern christians would actually BE more christians like. a lot of them aren't caring, helpful, giving, and very judgmental. plus they use parts of a book out of context to deliver their own messages and agenda in the name of some guy they don't communicate with nearly enough.

but i guess that could be true of almost every religion and it's followers.

i wouldn't say i'm religious in any sense but my own and that's not a religion per se, but more of a spirituality kind of thing.

who is one of your heroes?
my younger brother. he's funny and witty. he's as all american as you can get, but only the good parts. family oriented, kind, loving, compassionate, giving, caring, amazing! he stands for truth, justice, morals, and good produce. he's the coolest person i know and will do anything to cheer me up. including, but not limited, headlock, talking stuffed monkeys, hot dog waving, and hugs.

i think he's one of the most awesome people i have ever met and i've met LOADS and LOADS of people. his only weakness is how messy his bedroom is.

( more questions followCollapse )

Your interests are moving into the direction of exploration and self-discovery. This may be motivated by strong feelings, although you may not know how to put them into words. Your life is moving into deeper waters, where you usually are comfortable. Even if you aren't sure about your destination, the emotions you uncover will make it worthwhile.

- Friday, September 8, 2006, Daily Horoscope for Pisces

There seem to two kinds of searchers: those who seek to make their ego something other than it is, i.e. holy, happy, unselfish (as though you could make a fish unfish), and those who understand that all such attempts are just gesticulation and play-acting, that there is only one thing that can be done, which is to disidentify themselves with the ego, by realising its unreality, and by becoming aware of their eternal identity with pure being.

- Fingers Pointing Toward the Moon by Wei Wu Wei

compass rose gone sour. no direction. earth eats the flower. dig defiantly. dig depper. no direction. look for wonder. no path to follow. feet tak eto wind. listen closely. words whisper in hair. listen closely. you're speaking too softly to yourself. encouragement by proxy. dangers of the ego. look lively! plans? no plans. everything in the air. tossed up like confetti. no direction. you're standing still. everything else is around you. one point has an infinate amount of lines drawn though it. you ARE direction. listen softly. closely the words are near. listen closely. you are held very dear.

it wasn't dragon*con that really excited me this year. it was what people SAID to me while i was there. who knew that off the cuff sentances could change and uplift my world?

i need more and longer back rubs. cutlery doesn't seem up for the job.
hell, i just need more attention. dragon*con spoiled me.

the magic is gone. i fought trying to accept it, but it died with her. almost two years, now. two years since she passed and each time i ride the rapid i go right by her old place and wonder if it's haunted. it chills me and makes me wonder if her ghost is happy and if it knows how much it's loved and how much i miss it now that i am in the area and she's no longer a phone call and a train ride away.

and it's left this city empty.

i fought trying to accept it but i realized it was gone for sure when i noticed i have only seen one firefly this whole summer while being in this city. there is no magic in places that lack fireflies.

i fought even harder when a yearly festival came up again that always was magical in my youth was now a joke and an excuse for the materialistic pigs of america and not longer sacred or treated with the respect it once had.

it's a shame, really, when you travel more in one year and have people traveled just to be with you just to have somebody to call a friend around. it makes me feel loved, all this traveling to and from. it's wonderful and silently amazing but it echoes just a bit how much more lonely i am being here.

this city is beautiful and it's dying. there is a swan song in all the boarded up buildings and the street construction. trying to resuscitate itself with out giving up. it has culture and hidden spots and everything to love but it lacks life. it's almost like admiring what looks to be a corpse just to say "he looks just like he's sleeping" when it really is just somebody sleeping in a coffin not knowing he's about to be buried.

i realized a few days ago that i haven't been happy since i've been here. i haven't been unhappy either. my family has done all it can to make sure i'm comfortable and supported. if i need something, strings are pulled to get it. everything but friends and being able to revive the magic this city once had, but as i said, it all died with her.

just like all the places before this one, i just think i don't belong here. i don't think it's my time or place here. at least i don't hate this city like i did raleigh, but i don't feel as comfortable here as i did in greensboro. i just felt completely in awe and lost in atlanta and in rhode island i just felt like nothing i did worked.

i feel now like i did when i was 19 and living here to help out my grandmother. i should of known things wouldn't have changed and now it just feels all that more empty.

i love my family and i'm thankful for everyday i get to spend with them. i am thankful for all they've done and will do for me. i'm amazed at what a few people can do in the name of love and not ask for much in return. this is what love is and i won't question it and can't help but try to nurture it with all i can but there is only so much love can do. love can overcome obstacles but it can't solve every problem.

i have no clue where life is going to lead me but i know it's trying to push me out of here. am i too hesitate or too worried or what?
who knows. i just know the magic's gone and i'm not happy or unhappy.
i could be an american and place blame, say it's the medication when i know it's not.
it's me and it's situational.

i miss being me.
i miss feeling like me.
and i only feel like me when i have friends around.
and a life instead of just sitting around and waiting.

time to jump the gun.



am i just making excuses?