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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
roya's LiveJournal:
| Friday, August 22nd, 2003 | |
| 12:34 am | I'm home! my room! my car! my dog! my family! my computer! my bed! my clothes! my books! my james dean! my art supplies! mine! mine! mine! heehee. yaaaaayyyyyyyy. Current Mood: hooooomee |
| Thursday, August 21st, 2003 | |
| 11:48 am | It's.........raining??? In other news, Marina is making banana pancakes, Wilson ought to be here in a few minutes, the four of us (Ethan, Wilson, Marina and I) are going to go watch Pirates...again. Hee, it'll be good. I leave tonight at 7, for MY HOUSE!!! Yay. I get two nights there, and then I fly out to Chicago on the morning of the 23rd. Get there about 5, spend the night with Kim B, and then drive up to Madison, and spend the first night of three months in myyyy apartment. Sheesh. and it's RAINING? very unexpected. life is trembly. I wish I was a painter. etc. Current Mood: squeaky Current Music: greg brown |
| Wednesday, August 20th, 2003 | |
| 8:11 pm | wimper. I want my wiki. Marina says to use livejournal instead, but, no. I'd rather wimper. SO FREAKING DIZZY. and now marina is painting her nails. I shall now puke, and then fall over. goodbye, cruel world. Wow. I have query windows open from: Peter, Nick, Lorin, Rick, and Zack. This is going to be an intense night. Tee hee hee. Current Mood: really freaking dizzy Current Music: Greg Brown |
| 7:21 pm | The best part of today was when Marina hung out of the surrey and sang the Indiana Jones theme song. We cannot be stopped. Current Mood: dizzy Current Music: monty python music |
| 11:21 am | I always ruin things. It is my opinion that last night ought to be filed under the "bad dream/nightmare" category and left that way. The bits before the bad parts were good, though. Wilson and Marina and I, we sat in the back of a truck near the fountain of youth and we talked about sex while wearing white roses in our hair. There were stars in our intestines, and later, animated movies and tacos. It was good. Until I went crazy. But like I said, that's the nightmare bit and we won't talk about it. I stayed in bed as late as I could, this morning, trying not to feel stuck, trying not to feel how far I'd just regressed. Marina's playing piano, I want out. If I took a shower, I'd be better. I just don't know what happened. Except that today is going to be hard, and I know it, so I just preempted that, I suppose. Also, the crazy kids by the rosebushes were my favorite. I want to make movies about them. Alrighty. I can snap out of this. I wish Wilson and Marina hadn't had to be there last night. Blech. I kind of want to go home today. But then I wouldn't get to go ride in a surrey with a fringe on top. What I really need is to cuddle with Lorin. Yeeeeah. (hey, if last night was a nightmare, then the evening preceding it was one of the Best Ever. cool.) Current Mood: bleary Current Music: the lovers, the dreamers, and me |
| Tuesday, August 19th, 2003 | |
| 12:50 pm | maybe it's just time for me to pick a fight with someone. glug. I ate, and still feel hungry. I keep starting projects and not wanting to finish them. Apparently, there are a bunch of people coming over (a bunch, being like, three) and I'd love to hang out with them..one on one. But to have them all here at the same time sounds slightly hellish to me right now. If I got dressed and maybe went outside, I'd probably feel better. I keep thinking of Lorin..he's at home finally, finally, finally. Those hideous three months of no-contact are DONE. I get my boyfriend back. He should be packing now... he'll be moving into his new apartment this week. Then I'll be there. I can't wait to see it, I'm so excited now. I was terrified, about two nights ago. I was convinced I was doing the exact thing my parents have warned me NOT to do, that this was going to be Roya-screwing-up-her-life-forever. However! He called last night, and was describing the apartment to me, and I am back in the loveydovey land of domestic daydreams. We're the only people on the second floor, we have more appliances than we thought, and it's not as small as he remembers. We have a deck, there's a garden, and the area is good for the entertainment-of-Roya, apparently. This is all good, good, good. Now, I want out of Santa Barbara, where things are just as I remember them, and on to something new. I am having silly resentment issues with soooome people. Silly silly silly. It starts with an A... I got to talk to Pete on the phone last night, which made me ridiculously happy. I dreamt about Waldron AGAIN. Peter's voice makes me laugh, just because of the Canadian accent from listening to Canadian Broadcast. We aren't interested in very much of the same stuff, except he.. thinks I've got something to offer with this whole "artist" thing. Him and his brother have got some strange misconception that by being an "Extreme Artist Type" I have some grasp on the world that they don't know about yet. Charlie is far gone enough to know that he won't BE like that, and doesn't want to BE like that, but Peter is still thinking maybe that's the way to go. Extreme Artist Type. I think it's Marina who coined that particular phrase to explain everything about me, how I act, and how I think. Hm. Oh, and a creepy thing: to be researching unschooling articles and finding an article written ABOUT YOU by your mother, that you didn't even know existed. How peculiar. I want more food. It's nice to be in a house where there is Good Food that you can eat for free. yeeeeeeeeeeah. Marina is liking the whole not-having-to-eat-rice-and-beans, I think. yesss. Ok, now I go get clothes on before people get here. yay. |
| Monday, August 18th, 2003 | |
| 8:37 pm | Ohhh man, we just watched a movie, and I fell asleep in the middle of it..thinking it must be 1 or 2am, and it's only 11:20. I suck. SOooo tired. Today was Peter's birthday, and Marina and I wrote him a beautiful birthday ode. heehee. I called and read it to him -- it was so nice to talk to him, real voice talk to him, again. So nice. He's really easy to talk to on the phone. I was thinking it'd be harder. It wasn't. Yay. I should get him to call me sometime. I was in the happiest possible mood. I thought.. then about two seconds after I hung up with Peter, Lorin called! It was good, good, good. I'm not afraid anymore, and he's at home now, and I'll be there soon, and, and........ so tired, very happy, didn't like the movie, but I didn't see m uch of it because I fell asleep. It felt really unfinished. UHhhm. So incoherent. I want to live on an island with Lorin and Peter and Charlie and Marina and.. Wilson -- who better call me in the morning or there will be hell to pay! Yes. goodnight. Current Mood: exhausted |
| 6:29 pm | Marina is in Santa Barbara, where she belongs, and I am here too, so the world is a beautiful place. Ethan is officially my favorite long-car-trip buddy. Yeeehaw. We ate at a real truck stop, and I'm tired. I dreamt about an island last night. Surprise surprise. I've decided that the conference "exceeded expectations" and being anti social is a strange, but interesting experiment. |
| Saturday, August 16th, 2003 | |
| 2:29 pm | yeah, so we'll just hang on till the sun bleaches us out, is that it? our version of trust, like the one two three of a waltz's clothesline? a bad movie plays, it's too cold in this room, and I've been vergining on tears and rage all day. If I slept, I wouldn't feel so gray. This is obsession. Missing Waldron with so much passion. I would feel much better if I were on an island and the static was the excuse to why our communication was only so so. Last night I sat out in the warm Sacramento night and didn't cry. It was too trite. I waited till I got in bed and when I couldln't pull the blankets away from my sleeping mother, I let a few tears trickle then. B ut stopped soon, got bored with it really fast. I wrote like crap today, and feel like watching things be sacrificed. Friendships, maybe. Small children's futures. I am craving violence without the blood. Pure, clean endings to beautiful things. I don't want a mess. I don't want things to hold on longer than they should. I am wanting to be severed completely with nothing hanging on. Still, I feel like crying. Which is weak of me. I am at this hotel with a lot of people who claim my friendship, but I just want to get on a bus and travel all day and all night until I come to Seattle. Get picked up and driven to Anacortes, where I'll take a ferry to a fueling dock. I'll sit there and let the warmth get stored up in my skin, enough so that the cold coming off the water, when I get on the small boat later, won't be so harsh. I'll see Waldron, the dock, and take deep, deep breaths. Won't even need anyone to meet me there this time. I know the path to take. I'll walk up until I pass the white boat and the truck, and there will be the cats and the people and the sheep and the dragonflies all waiting. I am wearing myself out with the wanting. I don't know what I want. What am I doing here anyway? This stupid conference with these stupid people. No, no, no. They'r enot. I'm sorry, I apologize, blah blah blah. If this particular strain of moodiness lasts too long, somebody ought to tell me. I've never been chemically accounted for, before. Current Mood: hopeless |
| Friday, August 15th, 2003 | |
| 11:02 pm | I wonder if I can keep something alive after three months of hardly any communication. Especially when other things and other people are so full of life for me. Right now it feels like Lorin and I are just holding on because we remember how it was, and trust it could be that way again when we see each other. I'm so, so afraid. I emailed him my fears, some form of list.. and got an agreement back. He's afraid too. Ok, now what? I wait? Our phone calls get shorter and shorter until I am actually visiting? Then we... are exactly like we were, or we aren't, and struggle to figure that out? I feel faded. In other news; the HSC Conference so far has consisted of a few good conversations with Anselm, Sean, and Nancy and Diana. Also, Harrison loves me. I am so happy to be with my mom and sister, and very very glad to be -working,- and not just attending. I wish Samara were here. I am going to go to bed now, and get up super early and work on my workshop. I'm not nervous about that, but I have horrible fanged butterfly flying around in my stomach for other reasons. (cough lorin cough). well, at least I have a chance to write about it tomorrow. I don't know. Different worlds are different worlds. "A bird might love a fish, but where will they live?" Phase Three of my trip is now proceeding to scare the shit out of me. Living with boyfriend? Signing lease? It all sounds great when I describe it to the nearest Interested-Mom, but I have NO IDEA if I can do this. None. Most of me just wants to go back to Waldron. And that makes me feel guilty. Current Mood: honest |
| 7:58 pm | Here I am... at the conference. Yeeee.....haw. Oh, yeah, that happy conferenc feelin'. Aw..yeah... (bored.) (tired.) (greyhound residue.) If I tooka nap, I would have more fun. Current Mood: blah Current Music: marina reading. |
| Thursday, August 14th, 2003 | |
| 7:56 pm | hot. do not want to get on a greyhound bus. do not want to put huge gigantic backpack on. hot. hot. ugh. this whole "clothing thing" is way too much trouble. We like being in a household where we can walk around in our bra. Yes, yes we do. I've been reading The Dharma Bums all day, I can only take it in little gulps. It makes me think that no matter what happens in Wisconsin, I'll at least be able to write about it afterwards. Time for salad. Note: ginger beer makes my stomach gurgle. And not in a good Peter-gurgly way. (end note.) oh, also, Sometimes, I have these friends. Or acquaintances, who are very very down and out, and depressed, and have no faith in the world. I can't say a thing to them. I cling to my naive, innocent faith that everything will be alright in the end, and hope that by really truly believing that, I'll help someone, somewhere. I feel like bambi. This wide-eyed-innocent is now going to go finish packing and grouse about having to go on a bus now. Glug. Give me Sacremento..where it's coooooollerrrr.... (so.so.sad.) Current Mood: hot |
| 3:50 pm | an emaily thing to Pete He is in awe of politeness and I wrinkle my nose and think about how much time is spent over the clinking of china. How Zen Masters push the children into the mud, how Kerouac yelled obscentities, pure and clean, from a mountain top. How I want nothing to be restrained. Restraint is different from organization, different from controlling your thoughts, different from politeness, I want to figure out this feeling of feeling unfinished and jagged. I am the sore throat after a night of bad decisions, the justification and the rationalizations of the mistakes of my living. I have decided, a long time ago, to live life for the full experience. To become what I want to write about, to turn my life into a fairytale, a short story, every agonizing word of every agonizing poem. To be what I want to see in my writing. I am not a polite person. I run into too many walls and knock over too many chairs for that. I am focused in one thing; my desire to experience. I feel frazzled and disconnected when I think of how I was on Waldron. I felt like a pale imitation of myself; with all of the observation and none of the personality. I spent the whole time watching other people, and didn't represent my self or my beliefs very well. Not that I was unhappy. Contrary to that, I spent one of the truest happiest weeks of my life on that Island with the Loyds. Thinking back on it, however, leads me to wonder how I behave when there aren't other people with stronger personalities around me. I sway. I imprint. I do not stand particularily steadfast. Today I spent a fair amount of time talking to Mitchell, Kim, and Marina about experiences, learning, and how to. Mostly, I was justifying my state of existence. Exuberance, excessiveness, exorbanant amounts of everything; emotion, laughter, tears, writing, etc. Maybe it's a manner of concentration. I've always said that I am too scattered to really concentrate on anything. That my attention span is that of a flea's. This is not true. It is just easier to say and act that way, that anything else. I want everybody to watch me throw a vessel on a potter's wheel. Then you'd see everything I believe, enacted in one activity. I can concentrate. I follow rules, ones that organize my thoughts and actions, and come together to form a cohesive, functional object. My tongue sticks out. I close my eyes. I bend my finges and they are steel, staying that way. Clay slips in and through them, I control it with my thoughts. What do I want? I have to ask myself. Then I respond with a slight pressure here, or loosening my hands there, and it does exactly that. Or not, that is something I learn about too. How far I can push the clay before it collapses. How nothing is gauranteed, how to be unexpectedly pleased, when to walk away, and that success is about rising above the norm. I have learned how to do this almost unconsciously, yet it still requires a strange mixture of pure concentration and awareness, and a complete emptying of everything else. I remember for a long time I would talk about how wonderful it was to be in the ceramics studio, because everything else I was feeling would disappear. I didn't recognize it for what it was, then. I've been feeling shiftless and lazy, recently, without ceramics. I've been feeling like I've been cut loose suddenly from everything I've ever held near and dear. Exiled. Without a safe way to learn and philosophize about things. I don't feel better for it, not yet. I feel like I am having to relearn everything I knew. I've been wandering, with no attention span, no concentration, and I miss having the one thing I know can center me every time. I interrupted Mitchell meditating yesterday, and when I finally realized, and saw him kneeling on his stool, I came to with a gasp, and missed my center. I missed ceramics. I always equated myself to an ocean (unbridled, uncontrollable, fickle, et cetera) but with ceramics, there was something there to work with. I was more than just raw emotion, I could concentrate and Use It. Interrupting Mitchell made me realize that I've felt interrupted this whole time. Maybe that is why reading Peter's writing made me feel unhappy and unaligned. I know what it's like, I KNOW, but feel cut off from experiencing it any more. It's hard to read about another person finding it, when I feel like I'll never have it again. This is all vague and useless. I'll think more about it. I'll find something. I'll write more. I'll make promises. I'll argue with people and feel vaguely disturbed and try to figure out why. Next time I write about feeling centered, I ought to think about swimming, and why it made me feel the same way that ceramics did. |
| 2:41 pm | reading self help books about co-committment is bad for me. reading Dharma Bums is a freaking headrushy experience. I am firmly rooted in my way. Thank you. Now, tear me up and make me think again. I feel the lack of progress. I need to be with Lorin, working on things. Or I need to be with Peter, discovering things. I need to be somewhere where I haven't been before. The conference will be strange. It stays the same, and sometimes we can pretend like we've changed within it. I need to go to Waldron, where I only just barely started to explore. Or go to Madison, with all of it's frightening unknown. I need to write more than I talk about writing. I am awfully verbose with all the conviction in the world at my disposal. Current Mood: Zen lunaticy Current Music: a fly buzzing around marina's room |
| 10:29 am | Ok. I am just starting to feel better about it here, and I'm leaving tonight. D'oh. Yesterday Marina and I decided we needed a good ol' coffee-shop-and-journal rendezvouz. Sooo we walked to Coffee Romance, only encountering a brief setback (ahem) and wrote and drank GIGANTIC steamers, and.. got fed up with the ridiculous music so just read each other's journals for a while. Chris picked us up and we picked his brain. Mwahaha. Mitch and Jasmine came over! I haven't seen those crazy cats in.. a long...time.. It was good. Very good. Then I went to bed. Today I am: wearing the cutest underwear -ever-, my dad's workshirt, and my (new) blonde hair in pigtails. Yeeehaw. Gee. I've got nothing to say. Current Mood: strange Current Music: punk covers.. . god bless ya please mrs robinson... |
| Wednesday, August 13th, 2003 | |
| 3:48 pm | I developed photos from Waldron. I picked berries. Started a list of things I like. Bought hair dye. Talked to a strange boy. Am trying to go down the list of things that make me happy, in effort to be happy. Blah. The photos from Waldron are really good though. Some of them, anyway. I think I'll go dye my hair now. Or something. I read two chapters of a self help book earlier. Bought selfish-food. Interrupted Mitchell meditating. I'm a horrible person. the end. Current Mood:  apatheticCurrent Music: versus angels |
| 12:25 pm | ammendment: I LIKE cactus! In all forms I've tried it in. Humph. Also, I never particularily liked any of the things on my "like" list till reading them just now, and suddenly, I want to throw two small dogs into a pool. I like the purple miniture golfballs best. Uhm..... which one of ya'll who have my password knows me so well? ;) ------------- Let's see. Today will be better than yesterday. This is my goal. Yesterday was awful. Every hour or so I would sneak away and cry for no apparent reason. Zack put a sign on the wall above me while I was on the phone with Lorin last night, it reads: "Distance makes the heart grow Terribly Confused." I'd have to agree. Today I'm going to.. eat oranges and drink water and get photos developed and read Conscious Loving and work on a package. I had dreams where I decorated the Clay St House SO WELL that it turned into a big giant gothic mansion-esque place. Then I was attacked and chased by people who were supposed to be my music and boating instructors. After I freed myself, and two other girls, we had to kill three animals that were attacking us. We adorned ourselves with their claws, feathers adn talons, and walked down the street singing, with crowns of thorns on our head. As we walked, and sang, I thought "wow. So metaphorical." heehee. Zack's gone. I feel like I have no one left to commiserate with. Time to go do stuff now. Roight. Current Mood: bleary |
| 1:59 am | My name is Roya. I enjoy, candle light dinners, long walks on the beach, romantic boating trips, listen to whale sounds, eating toast with cream cheese, finding small dogs and throwing them into a pool with other dog and watch them race, miniture golf balls, and trees with the initals "M" and "X" written on them. I dislike, when people leave the toilet seat up, when I stare at the sun for too long, sleeping on a hot bed of ash, eating cactus', and watching porn involving donkeys, whipped cream, anyone over the age of 75, beds, and midgets. Thank you. Watch who you give you password to, it may lead to baaaaaad things *Smiles!!* Current Mood: tra la la boom de a Current Music: The sounds of whales |
| Tuesday, August 12th, 2003 | |
| 5:28 pm | This house lacks an artist resident. It makes me sad and colorless. I miss my art supplies. I'm tired, and unmotivated, and when I am like this at home, I follow my mom around and whine at her. I should go do something, but most of my energy is being taken up by my body trying to keep well. ooohhhh no.... I know what it is: I'm bored! I didn't recognize it. Ok, well, boredome is solveable, right? Boredom is just the sign of a.. uncreative mind. I have a creative mind! And Zack is here, and he has an evil mind! I'll ask him. I'll also take a shower and brush my teeth. Then maybe I'll feel like facing the world. it starts with an A... |
| 1:55 pm | I feel better today than I did yesterday. I slept upstairs, which changed my mood drastically for the better. I HATE basements, HATE being underground. I like waking up to sunlight thank you very much. Also, I fell asleep listening to the Amelie soundtrack, wihch helped too. Though I had strange dreams of Waldron, and my life turning into one of those horrible long rambly novels, or movies, about a vague quest to get back to happiness. (Happiness being Waldron, in this case). I am glad I am more specific than that in my waking life. LORIN CALLED last night, which was strange and wonderful. It's been over two weeks since I've talked to him, I've only talked to him ONCE since I left home. His last session of camp just finished, and he'll be home by sunday. Less than two weeks from then, I will be there, living with him. I spent much of last night utterly amazed by this. I almost feel that Wisconsin is just this big ploy to keep me away from the north west, but talking to Lorin helped. I am glad he really exists and I didn't make him up. One thing I have to remember is: Three months does not a lifetime make. I will not die from being deprived of my precious ocean in three months. I might wilt a little, but I can always come back. I have a long lifetime (knock on wood) ahead of me, plenty of time to spend in Wisconsin, Waldron, and wherever else I might deem acceptable. And besides! Living with my dear and darling significant other?? It will be -wonderful.- We will leave each other notes and read to each other, and work on Our Life. I'm nervous. I enjoy being nervous. Makes me remember that I'm still alive. I hung up the last of my laundry to dry this morning, and will go check on it soon. I don't quite trust clothes lines. ;) I read HOWL aloud to Mitchell, Zack just got back from the store, Marina and Chris are at work, Tessa is at school. I am in recuperation mode. I want to make Peter a happy birthday package, send Charlie back his shirt and socks, eat more oranges, and develop photos from Waldron. I have no great plans for while I'm in Portland. Mitchell wants to hike up Mt Tabor, but I am feeling kind of worn out. Last night I wore headphones so I could be in my own little world and write. Noe Venable is now playing, and I think Zack is back with some food. When I am in Wisconsin, I will submit poetry and work on Accountability Groups. I will read a LOT, and not be afraid to walk around and explore. I'm awfully glad Lorin exists. I was reading Marina's journal today, and it made me think about intimacy, and how I share it. I am not a closed off person, and if you ask, I'd tell you just about anything. And although I would probably read ANYBODY bits of my journal, ONLY Marina gets to read it. I've been thinking of monogamy and polygamy a bit too, lately. About drawing lines, restraint, temptation, what is "good" and what is "bad." An uncomfortable feeling for me, is when I FEEL uncomfortable by something, and am not sure why. I can't quite relax till I pinpoint the causes of my emotions. I am going to live on an island, one day. Current Mood: contemplative Current Music: Whichever way we go.... |