White Fox   
12:14pm 28/01/2004
 
mood: working
music: Decibully
I had a strange dream last night. There's a house in the woods, and there's an old man in flannel and suspenders on the wooden front porch. He just keeps staring at me, and I open the door. There's one bed with white sheets and a white down comforter inside. It looks like the actual bed is made out of bark from the trees outside. There's a white fox in the room with little beady black eyes, and a fawn that's a little larger than most fawns.

Both animals are watching my every move, and all of a sudden the fawn bites me. I shake my hand away from it. The fox starts shifting his head back and forth slowly.
Somehow a shotgun appears out of no where on the side of the wall, and I pick it up.

I look at both animals through the focus on the gun and the fawn bites me again. I end up shooting the fawn, but what comes out of the gun is paint. A white paint ball hits the fawn near it's back, but it ends up dying because of it.

So, I place the fawn on the bed, and I open up the door. The white fox is still watching me, but he's scaling the side of the wall. He then creeps out the door slowly. I walk through after him, and the old man is still staring at me.

I walk down the stairs of the porch and the grass is really green. The fox follows me for a bit, and then stops to watch me leave.

I wake up.

I have no idea what that's all about. I'm guessing all the white in the dream has to do w/ something though.

Any takers want to figure that one out?		  
     Read 4 - Post
 
Get Better Soon   
04:10pm 27/01/2004
 
mood: determined
Paper thin hands
that crochet afghans
I'll remember you
long after you leave.

 
     Post
 
Diet Coke with lime is divine   
12:32pm 27/01/2004
 
mood: cold
music: The Raveonettes-The Chain Gain of Love
After my alarm went off at 8:15 am(it goes off every morning at this time), I hit snooze and sleep for another 15 minutes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I snooze it up until 9am.

Today, however, was a special day--I didn't want to get up.
I slept until 8:40am; thinking about Stephan Jenkins and how much I wanted to be his whore.

I would normally leave for class at 9:15 because Coleman hall isn't that far, but I leave earlier than that to walk with Sam (why I am not too sure).

After walking through the snow that's unplowed by my apartment complex, and almost killing myself 1,000s of times because of ice, I walk through the cold to Victorian lit.

Somewhere during the conversation with Sam, she tells me:

"I'm not going to be back until 6:30..."

She adds something about her psychology professor, but I'm not paying attention because I'm looking at the silver outlines of douglas firs and oak trees.

"Oh yeah, awesome."

"Fuck you," she bluntly says.

I then go on to explain how I have to read and it will be quiet for me. I mention how we never do our homework at the same time, and how she always asks to watch TV when I'm reading.

She laughs but I'm really being honest. She always laughs at things that aren't funny, and she usually laughs when I'm cutting her down because she can't figure out that I'm making fun of her.

I am an asshole like that, and there's a famous quote somewhere about how the man is the greatest if he doesn't make fun of people who will do him no good...or something about ignorant people and saying nothing to them about their ignorance. I can't remember it for the moment, but it just crossed my mind.

After I depart from our paths (she goes one way to class, I have to go toward another), the wind cuts through me like a backhand to my face with a diamond ring.

I glance over at the smokers inhaling a quick one before class starts, and walk up three flights of stairs.

I notice the, "Dr. Sylvia's 9:30 class is cancelled today, 1/27/04" on the side of the door. I look inside to see if it is, in fact, true--it is. I also notice two people sitting in desks, and ask if they saw the sign. They didn't. They thank me and I leave. I put on the hat and walk my way back through the weather conditions.

Yes, I love waking up for no reason at all but to walk through snow and biting wind.		  
     Read 2 - Post
 
"You lost your trust and you never should have"   
12:24pm 26/01/2004
 
mood: hungry
music: Coldplay---See You Soon
Winter Wonderland outside.
Everything is dead and cold.
Walking to class was hard as hell. I have a car, but I don't like to drive to class because it's a small campus. I feel like a cop out if I do.

There was a winter storm in east-central IL last night. The skies dumped about 4 inches here. There's freezing rain now, so all the sidewalks are skating rinks waiting for the fall.

I don't want to go to my 3 o'clock. I hate peer editing. I must be the only person in that class that hates it.
That class in particular harvests nothing but smart wannabe educators that crawl under my skin. I need to make a resume (I've never done that before), I have to do an independent project/oral presentation soon in there, I have to go to the English conference in April to present my idea/paper to professors, and...and...and so much, so much and more!

I just want to be.
College is too much hype, not enough deliver.
It's overrated and most of the time I feel jaded.
It's like high school all over again--
lost and confused, wandering from one place to the next.

And, oh...on Coldplay's live CD--See You Soon is so beautiful:

So you lost your trust,
And you never should have, you never should have,
But don't break your back,
If you ever see this,
Don't answer that.

In a bullet proof vest,
With the windows all closed,
I'll be doing my best,
I'll see you soon,
In a telescope lens,
And when all you want is friends,
I'll see you soon.

So they came for you,
They came snapping at your heels,
They come snapping at you heels,
But don't break your back,
If you ever see this,
Don't answer that.

In a bullet proof vest,
With the windows all closed,
I'll be doing my best,
I'll see you soon,
In a telescope lens,
And when all you want is friends,
I'll see you soon,
I'll see you soon.

and oh you lost your trust,
and oh you lost your trust,
and oh Don't lose your trust,
and oh you lost your trust.		  
     Post
 
   
01:09am 26/01/2004
 
mood: tired
9 months of the year I live in Charleston, IL because of school.

3 months out of the year I live in Bridgeview, IL. A nice, southwest suburb of one of the best cities in the world--Chicago.

I've lived in Bridgeview all my life. I remember when we still lived on a dead-end street before the village started building condos and apartments. We had peasant in our backyard once...ahhh the good old days.

So when I read this bullshit, I was pretty ticked.

http://www.dailysouthtown.com/southtown/dsindex/25-ds1.htm

More traffic.
More people.
Violence.
Chaos.
Mass-Destruction.
Holy Hell.
The Apocalypse.		  
     Post
 
   
12:29am 26/01/2004
 
mood: sad
music: Bob Dylan-Not Dark Yet
"When You are Old"

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
-William Butler Yeats		  
     Read 11 - Post
 
That was the night   
09:49pm 25/01/2004
 
mood: nostalgic
music: golden globes
At the bottom of the bottle
I do not find you.

When I was sitting near the bottom of the staircase
at that one party way back in October,
I had to leave because the air was so thick with
memories of you. I think you moved on with some girl
you work with, and I didn't want to hear about how lucky you are.

The liquor inside me, once friend,
now enemy, made me woozy with jealousy.
I wanted to pass out in a dark alley away from all of this.

As I tried to make myself so small out there with my head on top of my knees,
I looked up at the starry night, and hoped you come to save me.

First a friend tried to bring me in, but with no luck she walked back in the house
and left me to fend for myself.

And then you came out...
and sat near me, but not too close.
I imagined you kissing me gently on my lips,
but you didn't...
you didn't.
We talked about every little thing,
except what we had between us.

That was the night we ran from the cops
that was the night where we got kicked out of the house
that was the night you made out with a stranger on the couch
(when you already had a girlfriend)
that was the night you were going to let us drive home drunk
that was the night I got that bad headache
that was the night that started my sickness
that was the night that led to the ER
that was the night that I lost everything
and looked for you at the bottom of the bottle.

Not a drop was found,
not a drop inside--
empty and void
at the bottom of the bottle
I found myself more alone than at the beginning.		  
     Post
 
Why didn't she call?   
09:21am 24/01/2004
 
mood: angry
music: Eve6-good lives
Hello Miss Sarah, yes your bamboo is back in the bright big bathrooom and loving it.
I saw that you forgot the little guy.

Hello Miss Robyn, hows the new roommate, whats her name...how is working out.

Yesterday i had to put grandma in the hospital at MacNeal....her oxygen level at the doctors was low....so he sent us right away...I was glad I had asked dad to help me....take her to the doctor....so they admitted her right away, I didnt have to go through emergency. Anyhow grandmas heart is not working properly...the bottom of the heart....the muscle is thin and there has been damage....doctor said it looks like she had a heart attack years ago...could it be the car accident that grandpa and her were in back in 95 or 97....but I was in the emergency room with them when it happened and I dont remember a heart attack.

Her oxygen level was at 81, normal in 94+. So they fixed her up with a mask and got her level back up....they are calling in a cardiologist and it is quite possible she will have an angiagram....grandpa had that...I wonder if that might mean surgery, like grandpa too. Anyhow shes there for some days.

I tried to call my brother cause I guess its the right thing to do...guess what, he has a different phone number or he moved....unbelievable....so I guess Im really out there alone...thank god I have you guys, Jeff, Krissy and dad....
I wrote a letter to him and will mail it to the old address....whatever happens, happens.

Ok daughters....my love to you....take care....kisses and hugs....love you both Mom

My mom's brother is a prick. He was pissed that he wasn't getting attention when my grandpa died. He pushed away from everyone, and fell off the face of the earth.

Except I am a stalker:
George J Masny
1404 Gregory Ct
Vernon Hills, IL 60061-3229
847-362-5777

What a fuck.

Grandma...		  
     Post
 
Guitar Boys    
10:29pm 23/01/2004
 
mood: jealous
music: Osbournes
Sitting on the stairs of Taylor hall was a cute boy in a little jacket with an eyebrow ring. He was playing his guitar to some girl with blonde wavy hair.


I was completely jealous.		  
     Read 2 - Post
 
The flap of a butterfly wing in one corner of the world    
10:15pm 23/01/2004
 
mood: awake
may cause a typhoon in another corner of the world.

Although Ashton Koochface can’t act well…I liked The Butterfly Effect.
I think psychological thrillers are where future movies are headed.

At the end of the movie, I got up to put on my scarf and Robyn was staring at me.
I saw tears in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me:

“It just hit me. We’re in college.”

It was her epiphany.

She told me that she just happened to watch me put on my scarf, and it hit her.

This may sound really corny, but watching a couple of tears fall down her face—
it was probably one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.		  
     Read 4 - Post
 
I've updated way too much yesterday and today   
01:49am 22/01/2004
 
mood: bitchy
music: 3eb-My Time in Exile
When my friends call back from home, I never want to answer the phone.
I just want my answering machine to pick up...but for whatever fucking reason
I always pick up. I think I'm terrible if I don't answer. Why the fuck do I have a conscience?
I don't care what's going on back home (yes, I do).

They never listen to what I say. I want to poke my eyes out with hot coals, while I roll
on the ground back in forth. It could be an art form.

Cigarette butts.
A mouth that tastes and feels like cotton.
Insomnia.
It eats you alive.
I want to watch the winter sun come up.
I don't want to sleep.
Sleep never comes when you want it to...(I knew that, I knew that).

I feel so dirty, although I took a shower.
I don't want to go to Victorian lit.
I hate that class. I hate Victorian lit.
I don't like Carlyle or any of those people who use semicolons all the time...
rambling forever about politics and the economy.
I don't care!
I'd take Joyce's Finnegan's Wake or Emerson's "Self-Reliance"
or, or, or, or even a Shakespeare play! And that's saying a lot.

Blow my nose, Victorian prose!		  
     Post
 
Beatles aren't my fave, but this song is one to crave *it's a lyric early morn*   
01:31am 22/01/2004
 
mood: amused
music: GGD-name
Picture yourself on a boat on a river
with tangerine trees and marmalade skies
somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly
a girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

Cellophane flowers of yellow and green
towering over your head
look for the girl with the sun in her eyes
and she's gone.		  
     Post
 
Damn I forgot about this goody   
12:16am 22/01/2004
 
mood: amused
music: Cracker-Track 69 hidden
Well I've been up to Paris,
and I've slept in a park.
Went down to Barcelona,
someone broke in my car.
And I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for a Euro-trash Girl.

Took the train down to Athens,
and I slept in a fountain.
Some Swiss junkie in Turin
ripped me off for my cash.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, search the world over
for a Eurotrash Girl.

The CRS on the metro
shook me down for a bribe.
On my knees for the sergeant
when my passport arrived.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for a Euro-trash Girl

Euro-trash Girl, Euro-trash girl.

Called my mom from a payphone
I said "I'm down to my last."
She said "I sent you to college...
now go call your dad."
And the waitress that he married,
well she hung up the phone.
You know she never did like me,
but I can stand on my own.

Sold my plasma in Amsterdam.
Spent it all in a night,
buying drinks at the Melk Weg
for a soldier in drag.
And I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for a Eurotrash Girl

Euro-trash Girl, Euro-trash girl.
Euro-trash Girl, (I'm a) Euro-trash girl.

Yeah, I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for a Eurotrash Girl (solo Johnny)

Got a tattoo in Berlin
(and a case of the crabs).
A rose and a dagger
on the palm of my hand.
And I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for a Eurotrash Girl.

Euro-trash Girl, Euro-trash girl.
Euro-trash Girl, (I'm a) Euro-trash girl.

Yeah, I'll search the world over
for my angel in black.
Yeah, I'll search the world over
for a Eurotrash Girl.		  
     Read 2 - Post
 
Black hole   
06:32pm 21/01/2004
 
mood: artistic
music: Hum-Little Dipper
Bleeding
Aching
Sinking
Feeling

the kind that never ends

a dull void surrounded
in the numbness of my mind

wrapped in scars
that never really healed

sutures preordained
before we ever really began.

The smoothness of your skin
a caress of your hand
signified our love.

The simple ways
of obtaining such bliss,
were the nights we laid together
in complete silence—

the silence now
is the harsh reality

of an empty room
and a lonely bed

all of which remind me
of a you without me
and a me without you.

(Tell me how she tastes).		  
     Post
 
   
04:42pm 21/01/2004
 
mood: sad
music: Kill Hannah-From Now On
Here in my room
I think of you
where we use to lie
beneath the covers.		  
     Post
 
Do you question me? How dare you!   
12:26pm 21/01/2004
 
mood: crazy
music: Stomach growls
Mania, mania, the kids are from Albania!		  
     Post
 
All words were poetry at some time.    
02:56pm 20/01/2004
 
mood: fucked up
music: Howie Day-Collide
Hi, my name is Sarah.
I am 20 years old.
I am 5'9."
I like to think I am a writer.
I get nervous a lot.
I laugh a lot but it's not real.
I smoke a lot when I get stressed out.
I drink too much caffeine.
I go to school at Eastern Illinois University
http://www.eiu.edu
I am an English major with teacher certification, and my minor is psychology.
I am a junior,

but I have no idea who I am.		  
     Read 5 - Post
 
Let's Start This Thing on Fire   
11:47am 20/01/2004
 
mood: Useless should be a moodoption
music: Trainspotting soundtrack
Is a tree really as tall as its’ branches?

This place is empty
and I feel like my brain
automatically thinks it can do itself good if it thinks 1,000 thoughts a minute.
This is not such the case.

Negative
evitagen
That is who I am.
Nothing can change this.		  
     Post
 
Down Under is So Blue   
11:18pm 19/01/2004
 
mood: weird
Sometimes I want to sit in
a clear box
overlooking the world.

I am blue
and the world
doesn't see that color
through my eyes.

Happy faces and happy friends
with happy places and no ends--
they sing their own songs
without remorse.

With my head in my hands
I can feel the weight
of what I hold inside
and it's so heavy.

I feel like I am
at the bottom
of a swimming pool
looking up at the world,
and I don't want to drown
but I don't know how long
I can hold my breath.		  
     Read 2 - Post
 
Rosa Parks   
09:50pm 19/01/2004
 
mood: lonely
music: the hum of the fridge
Sam's grandma died this morning around 9am.

Which is weird...
because my grandma is not doing well.

She's going to be gone all week, so I have the apartment to myself.

Right now I am drinking and smoking alone.
It's probably one of the loneliest feelings in the world...

I do not want to go to class tomorrow; I just want to be.

I want to live in this apartment and not go to school.

I miss home already.
I miss my family.
I miss you.		  
     Post
 
 
woundedmarigold
 
 
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