|
|
Sunday, April 21st, 2002
| |
7:37 pm
|
(tiny home)
there was a girl at my school who painted. she entered an art competition with the theme "tiny home".
she painted a fetus in it's mommy's belly.
isn't that the best tiny home you could imagine?
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
7:14 pm - to a girl who was once my very best friend
|
do you read this, i wonder. i think of you when i recount the tale of my tatoo... and that night, the night we danced on the beach and i kept falling into the waves, with our beautiful stranger.
and you know, you were beautiful. we all were, with our madness and our talks, and my worries and your anger and all of our passion and earnest desire to get better.
to somehow, some way, find peace.
and you know darling, we will, each of us, in our own way.
and i hope you are happy. and i wish you the best.
and i still love you, the girl who was once my very best friend.
(although, i must admit, you always did scare the shit outta me.)
|
|
|
| |
1:33 pm
|
i spent all last week with a boy, the boy called eoin (pronounced owen). he said (when i pointed out that i trip over my own two feet and am just clumsy in pretty much everything i do) that grace is a quality inherent to a person; it's in you, who you are, not the way you walk or how clumsy or non clumsy you are. and he told me that i have an aura, charisma...; he sees things in me that i don't even see in myself and that's scary and lovely and interesting all at the same time.
(i have a huge zit above the right side of my lip, which shane mistook for food. and i'm wearing my thailand elephant dress sans undies cause i have none clean. but still someone thinks i have grace and charisma. funny, i just thought i had bad breath.)
i met him for the first time about two months ago, maybe a bit more, at a friend of mine's party. and man oh man, did i daydream about him that night. he was the shy boy that sat at my table, just far enough away to not be included in the conversation. i told him to scoot up; he covered his mouth when he spoke, that's how i knew he was about to speak. and it was so loud in there and he spoke so quietly that everytime he spoke, it was right into my ear, squished up together. he walked me home and we talked about smiles reaching eyes and appreciating showers.
i wanted to get his number, but i was too much of a chicken, so i just hoped i'd see him again. and i did. two weeks ago.
gee wiz guys. i'm leaving in six weeks; i mightn't be coming back; and here's this lovely boy who thinks i, ME, for fucks sake, have grace.
madness. altogether.
(the air feels like water today. and shane got me a presie. i wonder what it is.
the train's overhead and the sky is different shades of grey.
and i love you guys. all you guys, way the fuck over there, beyond the big blue.)
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
| Friday, April 19th, 2002
| |
1:39 pm
|
don't you hate it how no matter how hard you try you can never find just the right words to express the way anything really was.
(lot's of work in the library this morning. 32 days till exams. oh shit.)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Thursday, April 18th, 2002
| |
11:25 am
|
|
| Wednesday, April 17th, 2002
| |
4:24 pm
|
vicky and adam and shad.
i miss you. and love you.
very much.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
4:00 pm
|
he says that i'm graceful. noone's ever told me that before... and i never thought i was. maybe he just has me up on a pedestal. i really do fart way too often to be considered graceful. and i sit with my legs spread like a boy and my hand slightly tucked into my pants and wave my arms about when i get excited and talk about having to pee. sure... maybe he does have me up on a pedestal... but it's still really nice.
(his names eoin, he has hazelish eyes, and we're taking it really slow. everything's sorted with paul... and it's all good. yep.)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, April 16th, 2002
| |
1:07 pm
|
there's just too. much. to write. ack.
sufficient to say, i'm alive and fine and will go into great detail on the course of events of the last coupple of weeks when i see all of you people in georgia, sweet georgia.
i love you guys and am thinking of you. and it's kinda funny sometimes, in a sick sorta way, just how much shit this lovely little universe is capable of spewing on us, isn't it.
silly universe.
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, April 4th, 2002
| |
10:16 am
|
(tired...)
phil called me tuesday night, and i was all sorts of happy until i realized that he had probably called because he wanted to watch the tele.
but then he called again last night, and he seemed really excited to see me. he gave me a huge hug and even kissed me on the cheek.
it made me really happy. *grin*
(we have the oddest relationship. we really do.)
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Monday, April 1st, 2002
| |
1:13 pm
|
have you ever felt like a friendship was dying? and you want to, you know, throw more logs on the fire (for lack of a better metaphor), and just... keep it going somehow. because you know you care very deeply for this person, and that they care very deeply for you... but, you also know that sometimes that's not enough. and sometimes there's just too. much. shit. to wade through, and you don't know how anymore.
and so it will probably die, your friendship. and that's such a silent tragedy.
(the inadequacies of human relationships. damn us and our akwardness, the realities we create that are too thick and too muffled to cry through.
ack. silly people.)
|
|
(6 comments | comment on this)
|
| |
12:31 pm
|
|
bleh. that's all i have to say this fine and rainy day. bleh.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Sunday, March 31st, 2002
| |
5:40 pm
|
i wrote that last entry several days ago, shortly after i got back. (when the taste was still in my mouth.)
but it's gone now, and i know what to do. and i know that one night stands aren't my thing, and that's ok.
cause i want to fall in love. and i want sex to mean something. and i want sweetness and caring and compassion and honesty. and i want to make someone to feel loved (because i love them). and i want to feel loved.
that's what i want. not just sex.
and that's ok. and it doesn't make me weak or needy. just human. (and that's what i am, yo!)
(thank you vicky. i love you.)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
5:29 pm
|
(i'm not sure why i'm making this public. maybe for other girls who feel the same way. i don't know.)
i wanted him to call... the boy i kissed last week. and i don't even know why i did... i hardly knew him, and i... well... i suppose i never really figured out why i wanted him to call, beyond just lonliness, but i did nonetheless. and you know, when you really want someone to call, you can almost hear the phone ring.
that's where i was at. and he went out with us last tuesday night; to the theatre to celebrate shane finishing his exams. i shaved in anticipation (no, i don't normally shave, too much of a hassle) but i did, that day i did. and we all went out, the gang of us, and it was akward in the beginning between he and i (we had remembered that we hardly knew eachother) but then we went out dancing and started kissing on the dance floor; we left holding hands and all of us came back to my place to play cards. he spent the night. and i slept with him.
and that night he held me and i told him that i was glad he was there and that it felt good to be held. and i couldn't sleep, but just laid there for hours (and he snored and i thought it was cute. he has freckles on his back. i like them. and i like skin.)
and i felt so silly and stupid and needy, wanting it to mean something. and the next day i went to his place, and was so sleepy and worried about katharine, and unable or unwilling to know what to say or what to do when you're at a boy's house that you hardly know, who you fucked the night before, and are too tired to even be nervous. but still insecure. and feeling silly and stupid and needy.
and that night you're sleeping again in his arms and you dream that he's left in the night and that you'll never see him again. and you feel like a whore and when you wake up you want to leave more than anything, but it's the middle of the night and you don't know where to go or how to get home, and even though he's really nice and honestly does have the kindest eyes you just want to be anywhere but there. but you stay and he wakes up and you laugh about him being in your dream. (it's not till later that you tell him what it was about... you've already said that if he's not interested in actually getting to know you you just want it to end right there, cause otherwise you're just going to get hurt. and he assures you that he does... but you can't help but wonder as all you do is mess around and you almost want to beat him to the exit door... you do, you really do, but you stay and laugh while inside you feel like a needy whore.)
and then a shower and several blow jobs later you leave, walking slowly in the blue blue sun and you walk and the insecurity and self-hatred slowly melt away. and you get home and curl up in bed, and you sleep, safely. but you still have a nasty taste in your mouth, and you still feel stupid for wanting it to be something more.
and you still want the phone to ring.
(one night stands are not my thing.)
(and i know it's normal to want it to mean something. but i can't help feeling like i'm just too fucked up and melodramatic and sensitive and insecure and overanalytical and...
to ever make it in a real relationship. i always feel like i've assumed the role of the fucked up one, and dammit,
i'm not.)
|
|
(8 comments | comment on this)
|
| Friday, March 29th, 2002
| |
1:38 pm
|
"somewhere i have never travelled" by e. e. cummings
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
through i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(do you know how worried about you i am, katharine? do you know that i lay in bed at night before i go to sleep and pray that you are still alive? do you know how much i want you to be reading this? do you know how much i miss you? do you know how much i love you? a beautiful girl filled with beautiful dreams.)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
1:29 pm
|
yeah... so.... one night stands definitely aren't my thing.
(vicky: i really wish you were here so that i could talk to you. bleh.)
i'll write more later.... more and more and more. until i get this nasty taste out of my mouth. (not that he's not nice... because he is. and he has the kindest eyes.)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Monday, March 25th, 2002
| |
11:28 am
|
adam: i hope you're ok. you'll get through this.
katharine: i hope you're ok too. and i miss you. and marlon misses you.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Sunday, March 24th, 2002
| |
1:20 pm
|
i miss you adam and vicky. and i think right now we need a group hug. right after we smack each other around a bit. (well... i wouldn't smack you around vicky... ya'll know what i mean.)
jokes, jokes. again to lighten the mood of impending doom.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
12:50 pm
|
tomorrow i begin work... study... studious child me.
today i relax and try to rejuvenate some of my... umph? passion? un-slugginess?
yeah...
that.
and m-ie-poo... i love you too. (marlon... aight, so i'm silly.)
that rhymed. ok, well today i'm not spewing (or vomiting even) fuck yous. today i'm just tired and anxious. woo fuckin' hoo. (it had to be done.)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
2:08 am
|
and i hate it when you're pissed and exaggerate your movements and rub your nose and something icky and slimy comes out and its on your finger and there you are, looking at this icky and slimy thing on your finger, wanting to cry and scream and laugh all at the same time. yuck.
that's so life.
goodnight. (for real, yo)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
1:54 am
|
fuck it man. i've tried waiting up to see if anyone will write me, but it's not gonna happen and i'm fucking exhausted and about to spit fucking flames (growl).
not really even, which is fucking annoying. cause really i'm just fucking sad.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
|
|
|