As a General Rule: I've got tear ducts filled with dust. But...

I could cry with as frusterated I am with not being able to find where the bad smell is coming from.

I have a feeling it could be a cat related smell. But she's always so good, never any accidents.
I ask her and ask her and plead with her to tell me what went wrong and where its coming from. She just glares because I wont leave her alone.
Damn animals can't speak.

Yes, I've gone slightly more mad, in the hatter sort of way.

Something About the Night Air

and the aroma of none other than McD's
brought me back to my freshman year of college.
A friend of ours worked at a McD's back at her home town chain and swiped a ton of free BigMac cards. she had a tiny white neon with hardcore stickers plastered all over it, in which she smoked alot. both references included.
she was always driving back and forth from school to work so it was constantly filled with miscellaneous crap.
on the nights when we had exhausted our handle and all connections for getting another were exhausted from the requests, we would pile into her little car and binge on BigMacs. I ate more of those in a few months than is probably the recommended lifetime consumption. I went to the MBG Music Chart's top hits of 2002/3 to try and remember what we would listen to while crusing around town at 1am, but while tens of them jumped off the screen at me causing a spontaneous flood of random but very specific memories, none of them fit this scenario. thats because she had completely foreign music (to me, not to the country) and lots of it. I wish I could remember some of it. Come to think of it, I wish I could remember her last name. Some things stick in my mind like they've been permantly pixilated and others are just there as a residue of the all the parts I've forgotton. Anyway, I was introduced to a lot of different music styles and genres over the 4 years, very little that stuck. My life definatly has a soundtrack almost down to every last memory worthy moment. But for the longest time its been to fluff pieces.
I'm so happy things have turned around.


On a side, but crazy aggravating note, I'm so sensitive to smells its driving me up every wall in this place. I smell something foul. But only wafts of it. I've sniffed it all and come up empty-nosed. If its true what they say, I'm going to loose my mind and make those around me want to kill me when (IF) I ever get pregnant. Thats 40 years down the line, but my mind can't help but go there when torture by smell gets me going.

True Movement

Imagine.
Empty stage.
Save for the five souls
Standing next to me.
My most impactful piece ever spoken.
Most captive audience
Eyes wide in terror and shock.
Ending on such a loud note. Such a shaky note.
Followed and closed by a strong alto acapella.
So steady. So silent. Tears and a breath caught by the throat.
Imagine.
Nothing has beat it yet. Doubt much could.

Stock Characters

Life Lesson: You can't save a damsel when she loves her distress.

So simple. So difficult to remember.

The persecuted aren't only dear maidens, either.

I Would Never Survive W/O the Hinges

Me: They've been trying to convince me to get chunky blonde hightlights.
Mom: Dont do it. You've got a wedding coming up [not my wedding, mind you]. And its not really your style.
Me: What? I'm plenty edgy. I've just never been "look" edgy.
Mom: But you're not edgy.
Me: Sure I am! I've just never been look edgy.
Mom: Okay okay-you're right, you really are. I'm not edgy at all. I'm way to conservative for that. I'm stuck in my box of rules and I'm alright with that. Thats what makes me happy.
---
You see, I'm only happy when the box has hinges all around for an easy escape.

"Misery Loves a Symphony"

I knew I was approaching it.
But I'm there.
Crowds no longer part.
Smiles are no longer given
when you see who it is that shoved you out of the way.
So far gone
I can't even bring myself to push through.
Bartenders are blind.
The only way he'll see me now is if I'm holding a ten-tip.
I never used to pay for a drop or wait for a second.
Forget about lines.
Un-attainable.
Both still so true.

I don't care what you say. Its a second class citizen situation. Whether its in our heads or is actually happening and is in yours doesn't really matter. Its a community effort. Don't try to say you're not a part. I can tell from the way you can't look me in the eye anymore.

So clearly remembered why I needed a cigarette to keep myself busy. And how I couldn't be content [before the reveal] without a drink.

Won't you sing me the blues?
Sing me something my heart can use.
Misery loves a symphony.
Does your pretty face get lost in a crowd?
And you say no one's there to hear you cry out loud?
What will you do Suzie Blue?

I was all set to write my thoughts on regrets. It seems ironic now.
Where'd you learn to do that so well? It would be like a bad kiss and tell. A secret I'd show you.
I am far away from the love I used to hold.
Dont sit and watch your self. The day is new, Suzie Blue.
Always have been in love with that song. Never did it have this much meaning before.
Real-life has let me down.
You'd better believe I've been robbed. It may be me that owes me.
Not only are the jewels missing but the metal's been melted down too.
Gold is at its highest market price in history.
I'm to blame and I know it.
Doesn't make there any less misery.

When you have everything, you have everything to lose.
She made herself a bed of nails and she's putting them to use.
Words now in a different context.
My eyes are prisims on the inside.

"Dreams permit each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night [or afternoon works too] of our lives.”--W. Dement

I had the wildest, most adventureous dream I've ever had, I think. Galavanting across ages and spaces of Europe, and then when right at the end it looked pretty hairy, like it just might turn quite dangerous, it all resolved into perfection---clouds parting, quasi-cartonic sun rays, and topped by a musical chorus with a fully costumed drum major and seventy-six trombones and all. It was bizarre and could only leave me more tired than before I began the nap, but I'm much happier than the crabby little person I was before I started. And thats always a miracle when a nap can accomplish that.

p.s. isn't it ironic how ironic the author of that quote's last name is? I probably didn't need to point that out, but I just had to.

I'm addicted to addiction. High on the high.

Just when I start reasoning myself into believing that I'd be okay without it, you remind me that it'll never be alright.
I'd never be alright.
And in that sense, alright and okay are as awful as ordinary.
Those reminders in your words are the bright ideas that keep dark rooms alive with possibility.
Even if I fail I must figure out a way to try.
The smallest words are the biggest obstacles.

"I'll Be Alright When My Hands Get Warm" but I'm Just the Forgotton, Caucasian, Middle Class America

"I'm a lot like you so please
Hello, I'm here, I'm waiting
I think I'd be good for you
And you'd be good for me
How stupid is it? I can't talk about it"




I'm gonna LIVE if it KILLS me trying.
wait for another screen shot later because it makes so much more sense when you look through my eyes
---


[EDIT: the whole "forgotton" comment is as described by someone else, not me, about me. not meant to be self-deprecating--only how we're seen and understood by (some) others, esp. in the political and university sense, and it fit with the beginning of the lyrics.]

Real Life: St. Valentine's Day

I'm a Hallmark girl at heart, don't get me wrong--this isn't cynical, just truth. Remember all that non-sense about truth? Here's some you can sink your teeth into.

-----------

Happy SAINT Valentine's Day! Dedicated to Matyrs who refused to give up Christianity but still had so much love in their hearts for the people around them. Love somebody today.

"Holding Out and Holding On": For Once I Don't Mean Lust

2005
when I look at that date in print I can barely make sense of it. but when I really think about it, it was the year I started my senior year of college, and that seems like just a moment ago. except that in just a few months it will be three years.

2003
this one is even worse. but it makes more sense on paper than it does in life. when I think about what was going on that year, all I have to do is look at these old posts [not posted]. I remember them with an odd-fondness, and tell the stories with much more humour than ever existed at the time. hindsight is always a laughing matter.

2007
this has passed more quickly than any other year so far. I'm in a race but not sure if I'm headed towards the right finish line.

I can't get what I mean down. Its all in this crazy-mind of mine. Attrition, defs. 1&2.

I'm not doing such a good job with keeping myself going. East has a clear-end view. Mild-bumps in the road, and an end with partly-cloudy skies. West is so dark you can barely see where the road begins, much less where the footprint of a first step begins. The darkness is terrifying, but it holds so much more hope than a forever filled with possible chances of freezing rain every day.

You sound so grown up that I don't think I'm ready to hear it. But its what made me fall in absolute-true-love in the very first place. I didn't know there was so much more I was missing. I hate that I consumed fluff because it was readily avaliable and filling. How empty. Maybe it was because I was so genuinely depri/aved it all meant so much so fast. Trying to even this out, but I can't help being so angry at all I missed and afraid of lossing it, whatever it is.

----
Do you ever hope that you'll be someone's last love? That when they come across you, they'll realize (soon-enough) that the one they're with isn't right and to not be with you would be a fatal error? But whats to say that after a year, a decade, a life-time with you they won't find new holes in their heart to be filled? And to stay with you would be fatal error?
I want to break someone's heart. In the kindest sense. In the most lovely sense. Just because they've seen all the holes and to live with them would break it to pieces.
But then that fatal error that was in my favor is now against me in every way.

I'm not sure that the truth hurts worse than anything that could be said or done.
"Tell the truth about the big things. Lie about the rest"
"Tell the truth about the small things and lie about the rest"
Both me. Both true. Prove it. T-R-U-T-H. More than just a passcode.
"The only thing worse than not know is pretending that I dont know."

First

;-)
note: I hate those horribly stupid "first" comments.

up so late [on a weekday! I will hate myself in a few hours] that MTV (or is this VH1?) is actually showing music videos. Boulevard of Broken Dreams was just on. out of all their songs I dislike that one the most.
Now that awful commercial song about giving her man rogaine or her sweater is on.
Back to mute it goes.

Must be a sign I should just call it a night.
Thank God for no L & L tomorrow morning. looks like my late hour means I wont wake up early to work out. Those numbers on the calendar give me dirty looks.

I loved Jack Johnson's first big single. I can't get back into him. back to mute it goes.

back to mute this goes.
tell me to mute? wish I could.

Does anyone else think...

Amy Winehouse singing "Rehab" is a little sad?
She looked good during the first song, but now something isn't right.

Kudos to the Grammy's for moving outside the box a little this year. Loved the Rhapsody in Blue.

I almost didn't watch because it seems like almost everyone I love was snubbed.
Wish you could've been there boys.
--love--

I wouldn't even dare to imagne

Do you know one of the things I love?
When there is a combination between the shirt I wore that day with freshly-washed pajama pants. Nothing beats it. Its me {and you} in those perfectly balanced forms. I wish I could bottle it, or make it uniform, but I [generally] dont wear perfume, so there is no uniformity. Just what is.
----
I can feel the beat of my heart in my heel;
The left side of my foot is twitching like crazy.
And my right eye is running, but not crying, like mad.
I can think of nearly a million reasons to make a double chorus legitmate,
But none of them has quite struck that chord.

----

I will never understand how the buzz phrases "equal protection" and "choice" co-exist in a constiutionally protected sentence.

----

This isn't the right place or time to express my extreme disatsifaction. But disgusting is so relevant right now. You dont matter, but the repulsive idea of your "perfection" and the way you think of yourself as a god does---it just rubs me against every grain. You're snide little messages, and a cocky anwser that you had 'no idea', are just a pathetic showing too. And I DONT CARE but I really am sick of you, so consider this message just a frustration in general.
----
Its going to be 5:30 soon. And the amount to drink gets more and more and more just to feel the tingle in my face. Tolerance building up so high that the crash has got to come on sooner than later, but in an insignificant way.

Have you ever just wimpered once? To hear what it sounds like?

---------------------------------

On a much, much, much, different note:

Did you know Heath Ledger had Ben Harper write a lullaby for him as soon as he knew he was going to have a daughter? If this isn't one of the saddest, most heartfelt pieces of learned information of your week, I don't know what could be....read the lyrics here and tell me it isn't errie and lovely and sad.

Multimedia message: Connect 4 Highballs, Christmas Pant Edition. And some phone doodled sharpie for fun

Gonna Be A Big MAN...Someday

Mud on your face.
My face.

Screw you.

I stayed out of this one. FOR ONCE. Damn it. I am a force. In this case, not 'one to be reckoned with'. No no no. One that draws problems. A moth to a drama flame is so frekin' cliche.
"A wasps wings are as good as a moths".

IT IS THE STORY of my life. thats even MORE cliche. but even more true. Even when it can in no way be construed to be MY fight. I'm in it. My dog is thrown right there. Expected to win with no idea what the RIGHT strategy is.

Its times like this I wish I was a real man. Not a daddy man. Not a lover man. That part of a man who doesn't give a fuck what someone says to him. Because he doesn't even hear them.

Women get so bothered. I may appear un-bothered but goddamnit I'm wired to be bothered. And it drives me crazy. I OBSESS OVER IT. And the harder I work not to, the more I realize there's no ridding myself of it.

I wish I could hardwire the fuck you switch. And then let it all go.
Just for those moments.

Sonofabitch.

Again?

Today Went::

1. read horoscope (hey, it pops up when I sign onto AIM, I can't help it):
[Someone may say something casually to you today, and even though the words might not be worth a second thought, the news can send you into a tailspin. Keep in mind that you are probably overreacting, based upon a past experience that was hurtful. This could be different, so it's a good idea to maintain a healthy perspective on anything you learn now.--Leo for 2/7]

2. have no idea what it means, forget it for the rest of the day.

3. check one of the sites I always go to. read post. post really says nothing extraordinary, but it means something that gets to me.

4. freak out over what the post-says-means-for me (its my half birthday, I can think of me).

5. write out the following as an spur-away message because that kind of reaction is better than letting my freak-out fester:
[Timing is everything.
But why does every-thing have to rely on timing?
Its not a science.
But we make it that way.
Do you ever catch your breath right before it gets knocked out of you? When you realize you're timing is off?]

5. computer signs back into AIM when I get home

6. realization sets in.

7. my parents/grandparents would be dissapointed. they'd say that when you want to see something it will appear. but I promise. thats not whats happening.

I Am...Such a Sucker

for fireworks that make my heart stop. and 21-gun salutes after Mass. and the trumpets and snares of those age-old songs we (some what shamefully) only bring out for a day and a half each year. and the Republic for which it all stands.

because for those moments I'm just a girl. a little girl with braids in her hair, wearing a blue plaid school jumper, saying the Pledge with my hand over my heart, crossing myself before I sat back in my wooden little seat. who only knew the wonderful and good of our Country. knowing I was born into the finest nation on earth, and thanking God every morning for it.

with age comes many things. happiness and life and knowledge of many great things. but more knowledge also brings with it more dissapointment and sadness, in some ways.

but for a moment just now I was that little girl again. watching a video. and I'm a sucker. a speech writer's greatest accomplishment is in making their candiate timeless. not my candidate. not even my favorite musicians. and yet, yet there was something there. something timeless.

"its that Patriotic something that noone can understand"
------------
"When he had spoken in opposition to my opinion, had produced a great effect, and I myself had been highly delighted and moved, I have asked myself, when he ceased, 'What the devil has he said?' and could never answer the inquiry."--Jefferson on P. Henry's famous Give Me Liberty
---------------

the cynical me reminds all of us that it was indeed a writer with a 'way'

"The Story of Siblings"

I'm listening to you tell me the story of our lives. Full names and all.

Open Mouth

insert foot.

and immediatly I lost the connection, when I thought I had lost something else, but when really its just interrupted.

its amazing how guilty I'm feeling. and wishing I didnt. who is we? wanting there to be something I could say or do to convey meaning. and matter. and I can't figure out how exactly I got here. thats a half-lie.

BATHOS

my away message only lasted a matter of seconds before it shut itself off

I think I hate the dress now

"But the Queen is just a Pawn with a bunch of Fancy Moves"

No purple this time, its navy blue.
And Madison isn't just an Avenue.

I love this dress. Can't bring myself to buy it. Yet. I'm wearing myself down.

Reasoning in-and-out of it. In every way. I'd probably go to far with a russian-red and fish-nets.

Costume? They let me have a chance to be who myselves are. Not the other way around.

And too far to you, please see, is this side of the line for somebod[me]y.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They might have written the song first, but the fancy moves were mine. Only there weren't any fiends. Only more users. We danced together at the bottom. Drowning in sixteen ounces. Living in a hollow world was the only way to keep it together. Cut the losses or the [white] girl. In the morning it was both. Swallow. LookintheMirror. Alive? For an hour. Repeat.

Glimse of one of the pasts. past. past. ithinkipromise. past.

Happy Anniversary

One Year. Almost to the hour I bet.

To me.
To you.

You dont know it, but in a strange way you do. "there is nothing between us but air"

it was the first 10 seconds. mesmerizing. hooked me for life.

I hadn't felt that way about music in so much longer than I care to remember.
It really was the night that began it all. I can't impress upon you the gravity.

I had no idea who they were. Really. Sad. But I made up for it.

Thanks, Bears.

[if I had some kind of picture to post I would, but I've yet to find one that can capture these 1,000 words]

Get Me Out

of my mind.

"get outta your head. its a bad neighborhood"

mine's quite pleasant. ideal. with just enough un-finished hems and mis-swept hair and cluttered rooms to make it real.

"I wanna get in your mind, your heart, your soul. And I dont see you wearing any pants in that equation". Is this perfect? Or perfectly disgusting?
Lines blurr.

"us lemons, we constantly need to remind ourselves we're alive. that we exist"
have you ever gotton to the point of seriously considering crashing your car, just to feel the pain? to remind yourself that feelings can exist. that you exist.
I'm not there anymore, but I have been. And the lemon is still up for grabs.

the conjugal visits worked. [read deeply]
its just not cutting it anymore. it did, for a very long time. but the deeper they go, the more it fills in the creases, the want it needs to be real, more than anything. I find more feelings for the loss of what is not real, but how I wish it was.
I need something real. Tangible. I've never needed something to hold in my hand more than now.

Get me out of my mind.
Really? Just needing happy reality interspersed.