Blue Eyes Straining

for what I thought I saw.
gold flecks invading. pupils tiny from the tenth read. growing by the second with recognition. impossible to focus.
Is it really there, or merely a figment of my imagination---a mirage setting up site in my mind.
?
I need an un-biased opinion, but I'm not sure where to look, if I'd even find one.
If I even want one.

I Just Can't Stop

Reading through old e-mails from so many years ago.

No one is dead (thank you God), they just remind me of how things used to be.

As wonderful[ly sad] they are, I just can't stop. Each one makes me that much more homesick. I haven't been like this in a well over a year. I think its more of a homesick for those places that once existed, and defeated in knowing that I can never even have the possibility of going back.
And what did I do with those sent between 03 and 05? It seems like all across the board I've been making that year dissapear, or its willed itself to leave, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why. So frusterating and sad. I have such a hard time remembering. Everyone likes to read loving things people say.

Its like hot peppers. Drugs. Drink. It burns so much going down you're tricked into a feeling of confused pleasure. " More" is the only word left on the tounge.
You know you should stop because its not doing you any good. But I just can't close the window.

A Tiny Taste From the Archives of Jungle Jim: "Love and Keep Your Ponies Off Your Sleeve Unless You're Wearing a Blouse"

A song to the unsung heroes of WW 2 will be appreciated. I sent the elephants packing in Arkansas, Texas and California. That's why they all grew trunks.


Which one of us will do the music?

He kept the elephants out of California
so none need ever warn ya
The trunks in the front, the tails in the rear
know which end you feed after having a beer

Love - Jungle Jim

03-05

A Day in the [Night] Life Through Away Messages

Quite the compliment. Considering how cynical "sky" can be. Thats why this got a post.

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And I made another friend's away message. I let a tiny bit of it go to my head, just because two pivotal ones have gone up this week alone. Go me ;-) Read the myspace. It explains why.
~~~
And just to bring me down a notch...


I really wouldn't normally post like this, BUT for the first time in probably 10 years I played with paint tonight. That and I just learned to screen capture and use it. You can totally tell. I'm really not that old or behind. Swear.

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I like my Highballs in a huge wine glass. Diet tonic water and four ice cubes. Swooshed with a spoon. It doesn't HAVE to be this way. But for now/ever [?] I like it.

Couch Dancing

I laid in bed for 2 HOURS. From 9-11. Trying to sleep.
Its 2:37 am.
Fucking brilliant.
I couldn't drive if I wanted to [keep the apperance of "under the legal limit"].
I don't care about my guilty pleasure for you. {ohhh but I do}

my-space.com [EDIT]
I love the colors. And the song. Perfect Combo. You're welcome. I do try.


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P.S. I effing HATE when the sitcoms end and infomercials begin. Its just like when the birds chirp on my way home. They are forcing me not to belong. And yet I'M HERE.
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EDIT:

I removed the direct link above. Its not you-its me-I really do swear-girlscouts honor. But here's a swatch of what I love about it. [because I just can't let it go].

Have You Seen Your Green--Day?

Have you ever thought about who people keep in contact with?

The highschool football star. The head-cheerleader. The dorks? If they are still in contact with all of their original friends, playing their same games, they're still calling high school the best years of their lives.

The college sorority sisters, fraternity brothers. They're playing the same games. Going to the same bars every weekend. They still have that huge group of "friends" [contacts] they had by virute of to whome they belonged. They're still calling it the best years of their lives.

I thought the second would be me. While I was living it, I truly believed it.

Now, seeing those people pass through, those people I thought were so imporant, I realize that even then I never thought they would really last. And they didnt.

Sure, I've kept one or two, because they actually matter. But really, the best years of my life aren't over.
And thats better than a whole slew of people who live the same three days for the rest of their lives.

Here We Go Again

"I'll play the part again. One more time"

Yep. Mhmmm. "One" more time. sure.

Forewarning: (well, post-warning) I wax philosophical/poetic when the moon gets into that perfect nook of the sky. Especially should it rest there sometime between the hours of 12 and 5am.
Oh, and when I've had just the right amount to drink.

But truly, I'm convinced the moon does have much to do with it.


Update: there was a full moon in Leo when I wrote the previous post. yes, it was just a "full moon" but I found it odd that the astrologers noted it to be in the house of Leo in particular. not that that means anything more, but more bizzonic. and I found this after I wrote the preceding. I so do solemnly swear.
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Some nights all I want is the loud music and the dark lights.
But just as sure as I'll deny it anymore thought, I want one of those summer nights under the soft, temporary lights meant for outdoor weddings and the band at a church fair. Moving in slow rhythm with Someone. To a song we don't even really have to know by the name, but know it we do. Its one that only needs the barest of an old band, and a singer with a simple, sleepy, guile free voice. The kind of melody thats chief purpose is to instill a sense of...contentment.

Its there. I only let it out on the rarest occasions, because really, whats the point in dwelling [--].

.Come Away With Me.

Its Times Like These

When they told me it was good to put it down.
To put it off.
Thought I was changing.
But I think I'm at my point. Maybe pushed a little past.
Feeling it. Building up. Worried about when it boils over. How I'll turn back into that crazy beautiful [so it was said] 18-yr. old.
Who barely remembered the hand in front of her face.
Who drank herself skinny.
Who had the time of her life.
Floods of attention. Good. Bad. Everything inbetween.

I slowed down. I had to. If I wanted to keep any sort of dignity, or any amount of friends. I would've had 'friends' yes. But not those that are around in the morning.

Even those are gone. Most of them anyway. This isn't about them.

I was so unhappy. But so estatic at every shot off the bottle.
Nothing is like a hard-liquor high.

I had a grip for a moment. A 2 year moment. Balance is balance. I somehow made it work.
And then it was over.
Do you have any idea how long its been? It wasn't just me. My blood knew it too.

Fantastic + Failure = What?
Its sick how the love and hate come so close. And the results are the same.

Isn't it funny how the whisky is whats sweet in this combination?

I'm still the same girl. Only now I can hide it better. The power of deception. 3 years running. I can barely swallow it anymore.
Miami is a hell of place to be sober. Its dirty sexy, drugs and money. I'm loosing the weight. I'm heading back out. If only to realize why I went back in. I can't stay like this forever. I thought I was changed. Now I'm just going to be smarter. Which really means sneakier.
I should be thinking about what will happen 5 years from now. I thought I had it covered.

No. God only knows what 5 years will bring. I've held it together this long. I'll figure it out.

The Title Escapes Me

Have you ever sat down and committed yourself? To a bottle of pink champagne?

This is the perfect compliment to such an evening. Follow the link and click on the middle picture. I don't really know who she is but her voice and the pictures are...ahhh....and yes, the Eiffel tower at night is simply--magic. Even when it is 'only' glowing, its breathtaking. But when it twinkles, oh when it twinkles, there are no breaths to take. Those pictures never turn out. I'm inclined to believe its because the beauty of it just cannot be caputred--its something ones eyes must be personally privy to.

But the glow is enough for now...

Aaaaand This Is It Folks

When I finally forced myself to lay in bed last night (this morning. no, yesterday morning) at 5am my mind was still swirling with things I wanted to tweak/add here. Now I sit here, $18 lighter thanks to two movies in one night--yes, I know. Mad Money and 27 Dresses. And yes. I know. I'm surprised myself. Though when I get in a movie mode, I always want more. Mostly its with action films that I'll go straight to Blockbuster for another fix, post-credit roll. I can't say I've ever been to two seperate theatres in one night though. Ah, I was just happy to spend time with friends and it happened to be watching girly movies. Now watch, I'll have fit "so much" (right) into one night that there won't be an occassion to do anything for the next three months. Thats just how it goes.

So anyway, my mind isn't really in an expansive, composition-ready place. All I've got keep me company since the thoughts are gone are MSNBC Prisions, this light box and my new socks (and of course my little animal). I really like these socks--I've been wanting a fun pair of knee highs and GAP is having a fabulous sale. I won't bore you with all of my finds, but suffice it to say great deals provide the best type of retail therapy.
h-o-t pink ;-)
Go to the sale. You'll be happy you did. Really. Who doesn't appreciate cable-knit sweaters and fun argyle socks for next to nothing? You know you do. The inner-cape-cod-wanna-be-vacationer is nodding yes. I see her/him.

From One Falling Star to Another: Pretty Yellows and Black Mines.

Written so many years before I was even a twinkle in an eye. And yet it is one of my very first memories. A little girl turning the key, and a patient Grandmother teaching her the lyrics. The rough ceramic of the base and the bird and the cold metal cage. I used to sit there with that music figurine, entranced by it, wondering what the story really was. Many a time I have found myself, through various stages and places and ages, humming its seemingly bright-but really just so-sad melody.

Surprised and momentarily shocked to happen across a variation as a t-shirt and a wall 'painting'. The bird is perfect: a little yellow canary, just as it should be. The only thing missing is the gild. The title too is off, but ironically so.

She's Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage vs. A Caged Bird Dreams.

It seems more of an extension--a 107 year post-script.

Always have been aware of the lyrics. But this P.S. drives them a little more home.

"All is not golde that glistereth." But sometimes, sometimes, it is.

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I found myself jealous tonight--the first time in so very long. Sick. Thats the only word I've got for it. Exasperated because I can't figure it out. Well, on the other end. For once I can fully figure myself out, at least as far as my understanding goes. I simply wish I knew how to be seen. But not with the eyes. I don't even mean "seen". Repulsed. But still desirous. Or, to understand as though you do. Or could. Or can. Or...or...or..."This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”--J.K.