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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Black Stars' LiveJournal:
| Friday, November 15th, 2002 | |
| 12:17 am | I am writing these words I am this written word becomes me to writing these words I am this written word |
| Monday, November 11th, 2002 | |
| 11:50 pm | sigur ros is beautiful chamomile and mint go well together cats can read minds |
| Saturday, November 9th, 2002 | |
| 1:25 pm | drink tea for the fragile-handed and walk delicately around leaves that have fallen in a dance |
| Monday, November 4th, 2002 | |
| 1:49 pm | I continue on but not sure where. Somehow disconnected from my heart. Busy, finding what I desire, but yet not myself. When was I ever? My love knows better than fear. Time feels like an endless grid, crossing over and over me. Need to stretch out, farther than this place I am in. |
| Tuesday, October 22nd, 2002 | |
| 2:56 pm | something or everything is changing simply and where we can't see not yet it is so clear I am falling away and towards perception |
| Saturday, October 19th, 2002 | |
| 3:18 pm | our ancestors the fish are in the clouds today answers to curious riddles reside in unexpected spaces the easiest and least explored trail where the rain has stopped to let you pass and a latent storm awaits your drift where trees fall into rivers or make their way there and how we sit on the edge of today looking over and down from our manifest to something altogether gone something known but never seen something this side of tomorrow and flick stems of unripe fruit eaten with haste watched in their descent creating space as they go to understand gravity without having to fall |
| Thursday, October 10th, 2002 | |
| 10:26 am | Last night I went to see a new documentary film about Baba Ram Das called Ram Dass Fierce Grace. It was so incredibly beautiful, touching, insightful, and inspiring. I feel like crying even now thinking about it. www.lemlepictures.com I wish that my generation could find and touch the infinite love that so many of those in the generation previous were so lucky to experience and be grateful for. We take for granted what our parents worked so hard for us to have. Young women are selling their bodies back to the dominant television male, young men selling their minds to the idle hands of video and computer games. Where are we going but now-here? What is left to refresh us from our endless coma? (There are those who remain complacent with the environment set up for them, and there are those (many fewer) who challenge their own status-quo and actively search for something greater and closer to their hearts and paths. And there are those who desire something more, but are just too afraid to look.) |
| Tuesday, September 17th, 2002 | |
| 10:26 am | pretention. nervousness. blight. warming. excess. fear. gluttany. unsure. insecure. overrated. underpaid. vanity. fear. vanity. |
| Thursday, September 12th, 2002 | |
| 10:51 am | telling yourself again and again find the inertia of words without intention, without ego stop trying to say what you want stop trying believe in what you want and it becomes without effort, only will tap into it faith is not lost faith is NOT what you thought it was you are magick you are creating the earth and it is okay we are |
| 10:40 am | to be certain is to die [I have forgotten English. When it comes back, I will have returned. Until then, I search (truth) experient.] Not contemplate but to do. ...and do not lose hope, only lose meaning. When I am sick, I am changlings. I let my pet out of Its cage, It will come back. Levitation is overrated, return to the earth. ...where we come and go, us All. Let love out of Its cage, It will come back. I love all of you gone. |
| Saturday, August 17th, 2002 | |
| 3:52 pm | I feel so stifled by the lack of creative release *oh, but its there, it is* but I have cats and paychecks and maybe even friends who talk about work and people I am going back even if not for pleasure, for change, but for pleasure too. And the artists who misunderstand metaphor continue on, for cleverness is so often mistaken for art, the mis-take, the choice. And people continue to buy in. Buy out. And buy something to complete themselves. without stopping for breath. And I feel sorry for young girls who wear thong underwear at age 10, and more sorry for their husbands. And even more so for the missing children locked inside them. And even more resides inside me, for later. |
| Thursday, August 1st, 2002 | |
| 12:05 pm | we must love we must kill the robot within |
| Saturday, July 27th, 2002 | |
| 12:48 am | Let's go to bed, Ah Pook Death needs time for what it kills to grow in, for Ah Pook's sake. |
| 12:43 am | i lost it all just minutes ago it was going somewhere and we are all sick and getting sicker we sleep with headphones on blocking noise with sound under blankets of tension under blankets of fog be careful not to reach crescendo too soon be careful not to come back |
| Thursday, July 18th, 2002 | |
| 10:02 pm | i must move away far away but not too far everyone is going insane the wise are shedding skins while the fools still hold on afraid of what they might find beneath i crave a new routine stimulation growth it's hard to find that here too many reminders of dead skin but the challenges are larger elsewhere and i welcome them it is smaller slower and prettier there wetter and strangely familiar |
| Friday, July 12th, 2002 | |
| 12:34 pm | settling after a young sad nap she tries to forget what came to her in those hours she felt alone and tried taking reality for granted in dreamstate travelling back where she never wanted to go again they called to her from past burials she had so much to carry so much to leave behind with those who were gone or strange and the cool nights brought with them a weary memory of nights much colder before something other then the weather changed since then she looked different a little wiser but just as afraid |
| Sunday, July 7th, 2002 | |
| 12:59 pm | I would love to write something valuable and interesting, but somehow I am not responding even to the motives around me and I fear I might make this a habit, or it already is. |
| Wednesday, June 26th, 2002 | |
| 1:07 pm | |
| Tuesday, June 25th, 2002 | |
| 12:17 pm | we knew from the first moment-- how could we have known? and what more is there? the beginning is only a small sliver, a single taste of what is to come. and I sense it, in my impatience, my glimpse of the future riddled with hope and hunger. and it will be all I have dreamed, it will be more. already, it is more. there is no more waiting to be had, the ways we handled our lives in the past obsolete now, disregard remains the only enemy. creations and tools are placed carefully along a path no one before has travelled. and there is more to come everything will fall away and there will be more to come |
| Sunday, June 23rd, 2002 | |
| 4:32 pm | return dying forests being eaten by human or fungus; a human fungus. we are, the ones who are now, blessed to experience the last of forests here. a fragile fern and smooth clover make exceptions for an ignorant boot plowing blindly through for no apparent reason at all. and if one could make it to the center of the rotting forests kissing the ground with every step, no one would. and they would pass away while we sleep some thing saw this coming, and saw how selfish one could be to mourn that which his own hand destroyed. and saw the claim of unconsciousness a shallow misery unable to wake the end of itself. and it rests, patiently waiting for the sadness to envelope anything that remains, where it will multiply, fed on thrown-away dreams of the wandering traveller who once saw the falling of a tree. |