i thought we might make a substitute for a guestbook or message board here... (oh, plus we can delete obnoxious spam posts! woohoo!) write whatever you like... xoxo jennyrose [I flipped the rest, add to the top below this, that way it's like the guestbook - new stuff at the top.] How in love Iyam, with no one and everyone, come to me tonight and I should kiss you, darling that I am, almost free, looking forward to the almost taste of freedom on my lips, wondering where I should wander next, singing all the beatles songs and taking them into me and willing myself not to be tired. Everyone at school always says how tired I look. Damn them. School's not important anyway. And Kat sent me a package today so all is well. I don't know what I want, its' changing so fast, i wanted to be held but now, now, now, I've enough and I must be let go, quickly, very very quickly, like throwing a stone on a pond, you tried to teack me how to skip it, a long long time ago but it didn't work. Ohhh. How lusty and golden and bleak am I. ~raina In January, I sign up for an Earth Science class at the community college. We would meet two times a week, Mondays and Wednesdays. It is a one-semester course. It is also the most inspiring course I have ever taken. By the time tonight's class rolls around, I can't wait for the course to end. I have been exhausted from schoolwork; unable to write the research paper, I have handed in an updated version of a paper I had done almost four years ago. I get it back tonight, along with the midterm paper, both with straight A's. I feel better, seeing this, and take it to my desk, along with the pizza and soda that my teacher had ordered for the whole class. A last class party. I wonder if I really want the course to end. I think this as I am chewing the pizza slowly. I am not going to miss the classmates, who gossip about their friends while I try to study. Mostly I am going to miss our teacher; our inspiring, intense, optimistic-yet-realistic teacher. This teacher who has imprinted upon us.... passion. He has so much to say and he knows how to say it. He tells us about the rainforests being torn down every second of the day. He tells us that we have not lived even a third as long as the dinosaurs, yet we have done more damage to the planet than any other species in Earth's history. He gives us articles to read on global warming and talks about how Earth will survive, but if we keep up this destruction, we ourselves will die. He gives us articles on what is happening to the atmosphere. And I have been thrown into helpless, suicidal despair for weeks. Then he tells us about people who have changed things, organizations that are helping the Earth. He shows us Hollywood movies based on real geologic processes and pokes fun at the characters. He tells us funny stories about chemical interactions and he makes us laugh. We laugh a lot in his classroom. This knowledge, is it old news? I knew, vaguely, about these things already, yet when he speaks of these processes and ideas they slam into my head a thousand times a second. And it is... overwhelming, it is beautiful and it is threatening. I am filled with fear on Wednesday and filled with hope next Monday. Tonight I am filled to the brim with wonder and I wonder what to do with all that I've learned. For I know that there must be some way to put it all into motion. We are talking about new ideas, slight problems, but realization that we might be saved after all. I am quiet, like I usually am in the class, but I am thinking. I am thinking, and I feel a spark of an idea come to mind.... (and now the idea spark cannot be smothered, and I cannot be put to rest because the story I started writing must be finished)
Lala... there is exactly nothing to do here. Ali and I spent the majority of last night watching movies. My parents took us all out to see "Miss Congeniality", which is actually really good, and then we came home, watched the end of "The Iron Giant", part of "Singles" (Ali fell asleep... she didn't like it), and then most of "Labyrinth". We finished it this morning, 'cause neither of us could stay awake. I started the night out on the floor, but woke up sometime around 2 or 3 and was freezing cold, so I moved to the couch that Ali was on. Just a note to those of you who care: sleeping with two people on one tiny couch is incredibly uncomfortable. (you WILL get kicked, elbowed, kneed, etc. somewhere it hurts at *least* once. trust me.) i didn't know this page existed before, and so, unwittingly, i made my own. RoyaRambles. just for your enjoyment. hope you're grateful. mwhahaha. It's 3.26am. I got home from the Bucking Beavers nightclub an hour ago, took a shower, and now I'm sitting topless before my computer, with my webcam going and an ex-lover watching me on it. I'm on spring break from college, and I'm all about having fun right now. I'm a stupid girl. I love it. I'm staying up all night long. ~crf It's 11:15pm..and here I am at my computer in a talking mood. So I hope nobody gets mad (and if they do...owell!!) that I'm rambling on here, because I haven't gone to any of the NBTSC sessions. Although, if I did go,I have this feeling I would fit right in... I've been unschooled/homeschooled my whole life, never been to a traditional school at all. I'm 17, and when I tell most people that I've never been to school the most common response is *a mouth hanging open, and then some dumb question like "what about friends"*. Although I must say, I usually spend about 20 min explaining all the great aspects of hs vs ps....then find that about 15 min ago the person I was talking to left! (well not really, but it sure feels that way) The past two years I've been going more and more towards the traditional textbook style of hs...and I have to say I HATE IT! I'm constantly at war with myself trying to get my work done, and feel like if I just get through this book by this date I'll be fine, and up to level with my peers in school.... Well, ya know what? My brain must have been off in never never land the past few years, because whats the point of hs if this is the result, just trying to "get through" something? I recently realized that to get back into the swing of things, I need to learn for the sake of learning. Study Us History because it interests me. NOT because the ps system tells me thats what I should be studying in this grade.... OK....enought on that subject for the minute. Onto something else thats on my mind, and I feel like talking/rambling about. Theres this guy
anyway, I've known him through youth court for the past 5 months, and lately he an I have been spending more time together. I really like him, and think he likes me....but (and here lies my dilemma) I am incredibly shy about asking guys out or over.... and he hasn't asked me out or even really hinted towards it... We live like less than 1/4 mile away from each other, he gives me rides all the time. I'm not really sure what to do about this....also due to the fact that the last guy I told I liked ended up thinking he was madly in love with me.... and well long story but ya get what I'm saying here.. The other day, I was sitting across the table from the guy whom I really like and just wanted to reach across and kiss him.. but I didn't....and even if I had, I don't really know how he wouldv'e reacted... although I do think (least from the way he acts) that he likes me too, and would have kissed me back.. Owell, theres always wed (when I see him next)... and now I say goodnight, and thanks for listening to a 17 yr old who lives in the far north and needs something/someone to ramble to every now and again.... Jasmine S. Sexuality is so wierd. I mean... I like my body, I think it's attractive, and I know it gets me attention, some good and a lot bad. But when I wore a dress (that I didn't think was that sexy) to the theatre it brought out a lot in some guys. And that really got me thinking. Every guy there who knew me looked me up and down and said "wow, you look really nice." The ones who know me better... said more. I got comments like "Susannah, deal with it, you're sexy."(from a guy) "16 years old with a body like that." (really loudly from a woman. and "of course he's (a 26 year old) attracted to you, Susannah, everyone's attracted to you." And they weren't hitting on me, just being honest. And it's wierd. I've been friends with theese guys for years, and they are wonderful people... But I don't know if they are friends with me because they actually like me and know who I am, or if they are just my friends because they think I'm hot. God... I want to be more than "tits on legs" to people. It makes me feel really... cheap. And then there's the part of me that just plays up the my sexy side because I think it's the my only asset. It really seems like it sometimes. I don't think I'm fun to be around and I don't think i'm that interesting a lot of the time, so sometimes I really play up the sex thing. Godamit, I don't even do anything sexually with people. Its just a look. And normally I don't get that much attention from people I know, just rude comments from the various horny strangers. Just recently... wow. I had no idea they thought that. Camp people are so different. No one looks at people's bodys first. It's all about the mind. Culture shock. Wow. I wish I could live up to the camp standard of beauty, which is, as I see it, as far away from the traditional standards as you could get. The thing that most people here seem to find attractive are individuality and an intense sexual or charismatic attitude neither of wich I seem to have. Humph. It doesn't look like I have very high self esteem, does it? But I've been accepting these truths as self evident lately, and been happier because of it. "of course you're not as fun as they are but you can't do anything about it so you might as well accept it and move on. I don't really like the person I've been recently. Although I don't know why. If anyone feels like adding to the CriticalOfSusannah page I would really aprecciate it. -Susannah (who realizes that this ended in a completely different place then it started but oh well) I'm writing from ACC. I'm cool like that. I feel really antsy and have no attention span left which is what happens to Emmas when they go to two hours of classes in a row on five hours of sleep. It's saad...I wish I could IRC from here. But I bet no one would be on anyway! Ha. Well. I have another 45 minutes to kill...I can say that number in Spanish, too! Cuarenta y cinco. Oooo. I promise not to write stupid things for another cuarenta y cinco minutes, though. I'll do something else. I've already read Dance Magazine courtesy of the nice magazines on the shelves here, and I'll..uh...go sit outside. Write in my journal. Visit a few more sites. Whatever. I'm really going now. I'm still really antsy. I'm wearing a short skirt so I can't jump and dance around too much. Grrrr. Bye. Really going now. I will! I promise! I promised! Sure I'll go. Yeah. Ok. - Emma I'm missing him... missing him, even though he's just gone three days, even though he's going to return tomorrow and spend the evening with me, come with me to church and talk with me. Even though tomorrow evening, we'll put on music or go dancing. Why should I miss him then? My emotions don't register time. - Christy My heart is beating. Yes, that is an event. I mean, it's beating so I can feel it beat. I'm holding my hand hard against my chest so I can feel it beat. It's rather amazing... that there's something in me, tonight, that is so strong and wants to make it's presense felt in such a... a forceful way. Forcing blood though my veins. Constantly. Never stopping, at all... not when I sleep. Not when I wash dishes or fold laundry. Not when I talk on the phone, not when I write in my journal, not when I cry. Not when I laugh and can't breath with joy. Usually it doesn't make it's presense known so obtrusively. Tonight, I am alive.
i seem to be writing on here a lot... I'm tired. I miss someone, but only in a vague Ineedsomeonesittingnexttome kind of way. I feel like doing silly things like looking people's names up on google, and then writing about it on here. Everything is slow and big. There are too many things I can't or shouldn't or don't want to say. Everything is cold and dark. The world is a poem. Just because it's dark doesn't mean it isn't light. Just because it's light doesn't mean it isn't dark. Just because it's both doesn't mean they can't be seperate. Nothing is completely understandable. Ever. I should go to bed, but I don't think I will until I can't stand it anymore. That's the wrong way to put it. What I want to do is keep going the direction I'm going until I can't anymore. I should get off the computer though. Should. Shouldn't. Could. Couldn't. Sometimes it amazes me how many sides I have. I will never know myself... Who said that the ultimate frontier was inward? I am imagining axe murderers now, and ghost dogs. Ones that can walk through walls, with cold eyes that aren't really cold at all, just glowing and all seeing. They're coming to take me away... To where no names will stare me in the face, to where there are never any keyboards to click between my fingers and no need to keep my ears peeled for mother's moving and brothers waking and all that's needed is thought, thinking, thought, thinking, repition, spelling, random words and thoughts that pour out of me. I'm glad this is a dream. It's been a dream for a long time now... I've been falling asleep since camp. Faster and faster... Falling asleep for the first time ever. Falling, drifting so slowly I only know I'm moving because I couldn't be doing anything else. It terrifys me, now, to think of waking up. This is all a dream, isn't real, the blinking lights, the alarm clocks, the dreams... the sleep... the waking up... It will leave me and go back whence it came. If I wake up though, I could sleep and forget that I had anything to forget. Sometimes the only thing to do is keep writing... even when there isn't a purpose. If the thoughts aren't set down, do they exist? and does it matter who sets them down, down, down, down. Reptition again. Again. If I yell something into the ringing of my brain it will echo over again and again until it settles into the dark lake at the bottom. Analogy is my heart. Now I have nothing else to say. Besides that I have nothing else to say. My mind is strange.
I got my camp photo today, and somehow it made me really sad. At first I was really happy while I was looking at it, and then I was sad beyond words... looking at all those people who aren't here right now, and who I probably won't get to see for another year. Then that got me thinking about other people I miss, and that just led to more self-pity. So I put in my camp tape and sat around for a while looking at camp pictures and reading my notebook and my directory and everything else and wallowed in misery and self pity for a while. Then I cheered up suddenly and went to watch Shakespeare in Love, which probably wasn't a smart thing to do, 'cause it made me miss Dan even more. *sniffs* Mom and I were being really obnoxious through the whole thing. At one point, I said "they don't call it Shakespeare in Love for nothing!" and mom goes "yeah- they should call it Shakespeare in Bed", a comment which sent us both into uncontrollable gales of laughter. -JessicaSkater "Nowhere man, please listen You don't know what you're missin' Nowere man, the world is at your command!" I'm listening to 'A Beatle's Christmas' on the radio right now. It's very very pleasant. Yesterday was my birthday. I went downtown from about noon to 5, wandered around, wrote a little bit of poetry... I knew what they'd call it An eyesore, a blot of the neighborhood Tear it down, repaint it do Something. I can almost hear their voices echo The sun reflects off the peeling white paint blinding me, so I have to walk away. and The sound of a flute calls me down the street. I sit on the remains of an old couch (waiting to be taken to the dump) to write about it. I kinda wish I had written more, but I went into Borders bookstore and got distracted. Very easy to do in there... I ended up buying a blank book, two Anne of Green Gables books, an e. e. cummings book, and 'Violet and Claire' by Francesca Lia Block with a gift certificate I got on Saturday. It was really hard to buy the blank book. I love shopping for blank books. Feeling the thickness of the pages, lined or unlined, the covers, how big... there's soo many. The one I got is big and blank. It's rather scary. I want to turn it into a place to write poetry and journal entries and rambles, and collage and sketch, and write notes on things, and do all sorts of weird creative stuff. But it's rather scary. Oh this is too funny. I'm listening to Tiny Tim play 'Nowhere Man' on his ukelele. I rode on a carosel too. The attendant obviously thought I was rather strange. I think my favorite birthday present was a Moxy Fruvous CD, 'Thornhill'. It's nowhere near as good as seeing them perform, of course, but it's still good. I also got this big round candle, when it burns down it looks like stain glass. I kept sticking my finger in the wax and peeling it off... which is very weird because I've disliked candles ever since I was two years old and stuck my finger in one. But... it's kinda addicting... Ssssomeone stop me! Then I talked on IRC for a while, which was... interesting... Teenagers late at night are interesting creatures. And Tessa told me some things she wrote down at camp that I said, and I honestly couldn't remember saying anything like that. I must have been rather out of it most of camp... but hey! The things I supposedly said were funny, so what the hey. I have a bunch of packages I need to send people... and I don't even have the right kind of tape! But I'll keep putting things together, and folding cardboard, and hope they get sent by New Years... "Come on (come on) Come on (come on) Come on (come on) Come on (come on) Please please me, oh yeah, like I please you!" Happy Christmas, Merry Channukah, and a hippo New Year! it is christmas eve right now. i am coming out of my slumber. i am a dumb little musician wannabe who can hear things especially well, who wants to play this and that, but can never conveniently mold her fickle desires quite to the point where she'll actually decide to play an instrument. my fingers are cold but my insides are warm, from celebratory holiday booze, and i want to clean my closet. that or play my recorder some more. my family is laughing in the living room, and coughing, and there are candles going, and everything really is well and good. there are presents under the tree, and i am looking forward to unraveling their mysteries. life is actually making me smile right now. -courtney I don't recall help me forget help me remove the memories make me unscathed and unadulerated powerfull and untested. I shall ramble merrily along Having much too much fun Like we did that night I shall frolic never looking back O where are you tonight? Unknown And untasted Unimportant Like an ant you crush me Without thinking. I lie Crush ed A corpse living looking up Great and mighty one You crush me unknowingly Art thou gentle or rough? Slave am I, Queen am I not, she doth I serve, more often than naught, Go whither am bid, do what I am told, made for the living, living not bold To sleep in the sunshine, is not my fate, to gather the flowers, mmy task of late, Unthinking unfeeling, child am I, unknowing but blissfull, never to die I think this describeth me, now I find not, such creature'd not know it, I know too much. Every time I look at my big orange fabric scissors I think about cutting my hair. It's not thick...one *snip* and I could lose a foot. Hmmm. :) - Emma Well, it seems like I'm the only person who's rambling these days. Hmph. I suppose you're all too good for thise page or something. *laughs* I've come to a conclusion, though. It's very hard to type with the top of the middle finger of your right hand and the knuckle of the first finger on your left hand all bandaged up. Also, it's scary as hell to finish a skating session to find that your hands are covered in blood. I sliced almost all the way around my middle finger, and it was pretty deep, and I cut about a centimeter right in the crook of my index finger. Scary as hell to realize you've been bleeding and you don't know why. -JessicaSkater This may or may not be long, depending on how I'm feeling after I get done with this sentence. Ok. I've decided. It will be the length I want it to be, so there. Nyeah. I'm bored to death. I spent my morning doing curriculum and babysitting. Wrote several letters that will never be sent with big fat water-soluble markers. Big bold colors. Purple, Green, Red, harsh, bold lines... messy, on unlined paper. I don't know why they won't ever be sent. They just won't. They never are. That's how I function. I babysit, I write letters while the kids draw, I forget about them (or am just too lazy to get them into the mail in time), and I find them days and days later. Maybe I don't send them because the people they're for are out of town, and by the time they get them, they'll be old. Or maybe it's because I don't like sending letters. In any case, I wrote them and they won't ever reach their original destination. Last night I got bored (as usual) and found myself reading a thesaurus. Sent a few of the amusing or otherwise entertaining synonyms to Dan... here's one that you'll all find interesting: Glitter - glisten, glimmer, sparkle, shine, twinkle. Don't know why I was reading the thesaurus. Just was. Found things like "hug" and "elated". The latter of which is sort of a catch phrase of ours. Don't Ask. Lareina and Amberlee left on Sunday, and on Monday, I resumed my skating as usual. I found out then that my boots needed (needs) to be rebuilt, because they don't offer the amount of support that I need for doing more advanced *pauses briefly for a hysterical laughing fit* doubles. So that sucked. I just got the blades sharpened, too. It was quite amusing, actually. After I got them sharpened, I couldn't *stop*. *shoots daggers at her mother who is pestering her to do more curriculum* So I would get going pretty fast and then realize that I hadn't stretched, or that I needed to put in a new tape, or I needed to tighten my laces, and I wouldn't be able to stop, so I'd end up smashing in to the boards, which I'm sure offered quite a bit of entertainment to the other skaters on the session. Thankfully, they all understood that it's *Really* hard to stop right after you get your skates sharpened. Allright... just because mom's yelling at me and being obnoxious, I'm going to keep going... just have to come up with more to say. *grins* Actually, I don't think I'm going to subject you all to that. Later. -JessicaSkater here's something that i just wrote...i have no idea how long this is gonna turn out to be, i just cut and pasted dude :) do you ever feel like you can’t breathe? like you’re encased in this birdcage that won’t let you stretch your wings all the way out? like there are these silly cliches pinned to the outside of your soul, weighing it down, making it sink in, concave like skull noses? do you ever feel trapped? like you’re dancing in this really crowded room between some really big intimidating people and they’re all around you and all you want is to have a little fun, or maybe get the fuck out of there, and you don’t know what you want, you just know you can’t get it? do you ever hate parties? do you ever feel like you’re at a terrible party when this one song comes on and you just want to curl up and die and no one understands? do you ever feel lonely? like lonely as fuck, like it’s a saturday night, like it’s your birthday, like it’s valentine’s day, like it’s new years, and you’re all alone, even if it’s just another day and you’re surrounded by people? lonely like you’re in this artificial habitat at the zoo and people are gawking at you and you miss running free on those plains? lonely like no one else ever feels this way? lonely like you feel this way about someone and they don’t feel this way about you? lonely like everyone else feels something and you’re numb? do you ever feel left out? like there’s some big cosmic joke that you’re not in on? like every time you walk in the room people wish you’d turn on your heel and walk right back out? or maybe they don’t even notice your grand entrance in the first place? do you ever feel confused? like when you stare at those numbers and feel that ache in your chest when you can’t figure out the answer even though you studied all night? like when you meet someone and you want to kiss them and then you meet someone else and you want to kiss them too and they want to kiss you back and then you meet someone else and they want to kiss you and you want to slap them and you wish everyone would just go away or simplify themselves into people you could stereotype or control? confused like when every answer you come up with doesn’t work and you sometimes wonder why you even asked the question in the first place? do you ever wonder who you are? like if you looked in a mirror would it just be this big blurry question mark shrugging at you? do you ever ask rhetorical questions just to make people like you? just so it seems like you understand and they understand you? do you ever try to create clever artistic things so you’ll be admired? do you ever not give a fuck about what people think and say things just to shock them into noticing who you actually are not that you care what they think in the first place? do you ever want desperately to undo everything you’ve ever done? do you ever desperately want to do everything you were too chickenshit to try? do you ever feel like the ending is always wrong, like there’s always more that you aren’t getting, like perfection is hanging right there, almost...almost...tantalizingly within reach, within yet without...without a solution, without a summary, without a point. do you ever wonder what’s the point anyway? do you ever say fuck it i'm doing it anyway? jenny it's a sunny poeticall moorning. loveliness is getting up after five hours of sleep and beginning a lovely day and the day becoming dreadfull but switching it back in the (TADAA!) nick of time. ~wind I'm going to sort of continue what I was writing on the CheckIn page... I'm probably not going to be on IRC much for the next week or two, and it really seems heartbreaking to me. A real tragedy. So I ask myself why. (cause that's just what I do, I analyse everything, and especially myself...) Why? Because I want to talk to my friends of course... but why is a week or so of not talking to a couple friends such a tragedy? My immediate answer surprised me a little: because I'll be 'out of the loop'. Things will have happened, friendships will have formed, gossip will have been shared, words will be made up... and I won't be a part of it. Lately I have been feeling a 'part of it' and I don't want to loose that. Knowing things, being part of... of this community I guess, is really important to me now. Bad? Good? I don't know. Bad that I depend on something that silly that much... good that I have a community I love... bad that I won't be a large part of it for a week, good that I'm getting off my addiction... So hey! E-mail me and tell me you love me and cheer me up! Although I don't promise to write back... If you write me lots of questions I will though. *grinwink* toodamnperky at nbtsc.org When I grow up, I want to be the Goddess of Dreams. - Emma Well, i'm not done writing about my name. The begginning of it is on the name page. I just hate the way some people say Kim. Short and fast and clipped, like i am a not good person. Like i am...unworthy of attention. they moove on to the people with longer, more interesting names. when i think my name could be limiting me, i wonder...is that possibel? i certainly feel that way...but people are tough to change. me worst. i can never remeber even to say Kimberly, probly cause im not comfy with it. but Kim is just...short and unlifely, it seems. Heh. I absoulutely hate the way my relatives say my name...perhaps because relations with them are strained? Ah well. It's best when i can forget my Kim. O whoa, that just looked absoulutely awefilled. hmmmm.... uuuuh... i really have no idea what i am doing here, so i am just going to write, hey its the ramble page right? Camp always seems like sort of a dream to me, it passes so quickly and then i am back to my life full of... whatever. Except not after this camp. i started getting sick after eating a large disgusting subway sandwich, while waiting for the train with my group of fellow NBTSCers. By that night i was quite sick, and after a full weak of being home with stabbing stomach pains, i finally went to the hospital, got a CAT scan and found out that my appendix was ruptured and i needed to go into surgery that night, it was almost releaving actually. the part where i had to sit in the hospital for a week after was the annoying part. So anyways, about 3 weeks after surgery, being able to walk again, and feeling much better, i went to a friends party, in the morning my friend and i were going to drive to the outlet mall, to buy some Doc Martens for 25 bucks, (good deal eh?) anyways, my friend had just bought a new Mazda Rx7 that had racing suspension and new sticky racing tires on it. He was stoked, and it was fun riding in that thing for the 10 minutes that i was able to, sadly, when we got into the car, my friend started driving it to its full capacity, and because of the wet road, and... the lack of sleep the driver had we ran head first into a large redwood tree going about 60. When i regained consciousness i couldnt breath but because of the shock factor i felt no pain, that is until i got out of the car and stood up, then i sort of collapsed back into the car, cradling my arm and trying to find a place i could put my head without my neck burning. Luckily there was a house nearby and the people that lived there walked my friend (who was fine, except for some bruises and a large amount of shock) and i into their house. they then called my parents and the paramedics. When i arrived at the hospital, a really large annoying group of doctors, started probing me in every which way that they could, i felt a little better after i got some morphine, but i couldnt move my arm or my neck. after many X-rays, CAT scans and MRI scans i found out that i had broken my collarbone, fractured a vertabrae, and displaced number c6 and c7 vertabraes, they showed me an X ray and the two vertabrae, were stretched out and not connected very well. (an MRI scan is where the stick you in this tube with hardly enough space to breath, and blast these electro magnetic sounds at you from all directions, the result is that they get these pictures of liquid and all sorts of stuff in my neck. the downside was that my broken collarbone started spasming while i was in the tube and they had to do the scan twice. anyways, the went into surgery the next morning, and put 4 screws 2 titanium discs and some wire into my neck, fusing my vertabrae together. Ive been thinking, if chicks really do dig scars than im gonna be one damn lucky guy! except i sorta think thats an urban legend... *sigh* so now its about 3 and half weeks after my second surgery, and i am really sick of being in- capacitated for such a long freakin time. normally i skate every day, and its really bothering me that i cant. I am getting sick of video games and movies, but books are still fun, i just finished "enders shadow", and im in the middle "american skin" and "the monkeywrench gang" all very highly recommended if you want a good book. So this has been the series of events going through my life since camp, and i am going to be glad when its all over. It actually feels really good to get all this out, even if im just typing it. If anyone wants someone to write to and have them write back, then please write me. cheers ~Nate~ I realized tonight that I do not possess a single original thought. Not one. If I'm not repeating my mother, I'm parroting a book, or a friend, or some obscure song. Everything that is me comes from somewhere else. So. . . . maybe there is no original thought. I've heard that; it seems reasonable. The same ideas expressed in the 12th century are expressed in the 16th century are expressed in the 21st century If I think the same thing as my mother, do I really think that? Or do I only think it because she thinks it, and I am her parrot? How do I separate mine and yours? Do I have to move out to find my own ideas? Is it possible to possess ideas in the first place? And if I do have to move out, am I doomed to spend the next 2 1/2 years without any thoughts that belong to me? If I am doomed, isn't it just stupid to even try to find my own? I'm just a little girl, right? Not a valid human being. Not an almighty adult. And yet, some of the people I know who have become "adults" have no idea of what to do with their lives, any more than I do. So what makes a person an adult, anyway? What finally spurs us to discover ideas outside our own parental sphere? Will I ever find any? Why am I a "little girl," anyway? Women were mothers at my age, half a century ago! Were they thinking their own thoughts? Or was everyone so caught up in survival that they didn't bother to waste time figuring themselves out? Is physical maturity an important thing, or emotional maturity? Which comes first? Tonight is supremely frustrating. I'm a little girl. I don't count as anything. My ideas aren't mine! I have a gut suspicion that everyone who reads this will feel smug because they already have original thoughts and ideas. "Oh, yeah, I went through that phase about four years ago." Arrrgh! I'm always in a "phase"!!! Never just thinking, never just being a confused person; oh, no, there is always some age or chemical at work. Life is pain; that is it's constancy. Either you love so hard you hurt or you hate so hard you hurt, or the hurt is there for some other reason. Then we die. (See, my mother said that!!!!!!)
I don't know that I belong here, but what is that. I feel like I do, even though you don't know me and I didn't go to unschoolers camp. Ack. Moving to a new city. Inbetween. No address. Using the public library as home base. Totally shy (except with words). Totally lonely (even with friends). I feel without roots and for some people that is entirely liberating and I feel entirely debilitated. I want a house so much. I want a house so much. Please please please god help me out with a house. There is still time before Nov1 on which date I will be entirely without a place to stay (I'm housesitting until then) but we are dragging our kitchen stuff around in my car and I feel tired. Permanantly tired. Even when sleeping. I want a house. I want a house. I want a house. My mom came home from a workshop and said that often we say that we want something but that it's not the same as asking for it. I have been asking (though maybe not as much as I have been wanting). Bless you all with dreams and the means to accomplish them. -Arlyn Deva
Wheee!!! I'm having a good day. I got a new wiki signature (see below, awesome isnt it?) and I'm going to Lane's suprise party tonight and I'm giving him a green plastic frog wrapt in baby shower paper which is way cool paper despite what JohnPaul says *glares* and JohnPaul said that if I gave HIM a green plastic frog that he would have to fall more in love with me and marry me on the spot! So thats a good sign! hehe and then when I told JohnPaul that I was wrapping it in baby shower paper..heheh well never mind! hehe so anyway I'm HAPPY! I miss you. You were a good friend once, when you didn't have all these distractions from other people. Are they more interesting than I am, or am I just too smothering? I doubt I was too smothering. I've always kept my distance, a little bit, so not to drive you away, but when you stopped speaking to me my caution did not bring you back. You flew away on the wind... their wind. Their words, their beauty, their thoughts... And they are more quick to share than I am. Their thoughts bubble up to the surface easily, and they are poetic and loud and they grab your admiration. I am envious. Maybe if I hadn't been so messed up then, you would have stayed with me. I am all right now, I am happy where I am. Aren't I worthy of your friendship? I am beautiful and interesting and giving. Oh god, am I giving. I've given too much, I've burnt myself on the wires of goodness. Well, guess what?? I give up. I am angry at you, I am sad, I am hate. I refuse to play this game anymore. You are too far away to talk to me, anyway. You do not care what I think and you do not care where I go. Nothing of me is of any importance to you; I wish I could add "vice versa".... but these memories hurt. I hurt. I am finding a life at home, in my own city. These people do not know me, they do not dig for my past and they do not ask for thoughts that could tear them apart. I am happy to talk about philosophy and politics with them on a surface level, just to hang around. It's nice. Yeah. I just wish I could destroy the part of me that wishes you would miss me and come back. No more. I love you, but these miles are terrible barriers and I can't fight for your affection anymore. Goodbye. -wanderlust the urban pixie, formerly known as Eryn (What's below is addressed to several people in particular, and many not in particular.) I want to know you better. There is no logical reason for it, absolutely none. We exchanged few words then, and none now, and I have never been adept at small talk anyway. To be honest, there are some strangers about whom I could care less. Let them go their ways, and someone else will find them. But I paid special attention to you. I don't know why. As I said before, there is no reason. I wish I could show you yourself from my point of view. There are things you do that you don't even notice. It would be like a photograph, the little shock that we get when we see ourselves like real people. I wish I could show you your "listening" look, that beautiful distraction, that lack of self-consciousness. And the weight in your movements that makes them real. I know certain things about you: how you move when you're thinking about it, and how you move when you're not. How you sit and how you stand. How your voice sounds from a distance when all the words are blurred. How you can be picked out quickly in a crowd of people. And I know the tiniest inkling of what you're really like. But I want to know more. I am not satisfied with that. Do you know who you are? Does this flatter or unnerve you? Did you look at me too? Did you give me a thought? It doesn't really matter what you think. Because I chose to appreciate you, I don't need any payback. It's its own reward. I just wanted to tell you how real you are, inadequate but true. If only I could tell you more. - Naela
Boing Boing, thats the sound of all my thoughts bouncing off the inside of my head and now your head and their just there, bouncing around, and someday I shall take them out and share them with everyone. Oh, wow. I love you way too much. for listening. for being. for not knowing who you are. i'll never ever tell you though, unless you tell me first. so this is all you get, unless you can read my mind, which is pretty risky. the rest of my life i have to find someone who listens as well as you. the rest of my life i have to find someone who listens and whom i actually know, instead of just meeting at camp. isn't it weird how i can never tell you and you don't even know that someone's caring for you and wishing and you'll never know and it's too too hilarious. i mean, yea, what if you're doing the same thing to me and i don't even know it? or someone else coud be, and wouldn't that be such a boost to know that someone loves you? although it could just be our incredible passion, misdirected, looking for something, some place to put it? hysterical laughter because i feel bonded, shared, share the sadness we did. love you i cannot stop. the only one who cares for me, you seem to be. though true that can never be. I cannot say it to your face so I will say it to the computer. I Love You. I Need You. I Miss You. But, (arrg) i wouldn't mind you as a friend! Indeed that's all i thought of. But you put the idea into my nind, when you looked at me so, and spoke such soft words, and caressed me, and now? 'tis forgotten? dare not say that you have forgotten that moment. dare not deny me in this manner. write to me, damn it! tampering with a woman's affections is a serious calamity, didn't you know? or didn't you feel it? do you just go along, speaking sweet to all the world and making everyone need you like this? that's not fair! for i do need you and i need someoonelike you to talk to, now. NOW. I know if i said this to you, you would deny me. for it is not mine to make declarations of love. it is mine to love unrequited, and wish. and attempt friendship, though this too you seem to deny. or are you just really bad at answering letters? Goodness gracious me. I feel quite awful. Quite boldly awful. My stomach is not in such a friendly state. And I am so tired. And I can't get myself to go to bed. And I know I am going to have to wake up four hours from now, and that makes me quiver and shake. Hopefully I will vomit. I feel rather queer emotionally, as well. I think I'm falling in love. And I'm sort of scared. I have been cleaning. I feel like Cinderella. That is my disease well ROAR. i was just on chat, having fun, talkin' to people, good rad people bwah bwah bwah and DAMMIT to hell, *poof* naomi becomes super bitch! all these cool cats i was conversing with just suddenly split and i was like "aw, shit." but is that any reason to turn into Miss Pissy? sheesh! what is my problem! and soo.. i wrote, i went on and mooed about one i love, and now i am convinced that AllSoRad is the key to all problems, because writing love to another has made me so sweetly content and brought me clarity. just for a moment focusing on someone other than myself, and trying to express what they mean to me... i feel good. even regardless of all the annoying people surrounding me! hah! i am capable of seeing past this! so moo. i'm over it. but i'm going to go listen to happy jay techno now, and maybe, just maybe, i'll weep my eyes out... ~naomi the moth I HATE ALBANY!!! I AM TOO OLD TO BE LIVING IN MY PARENTS' HOUSE! I am depressed and frustrated at how damn hard it is to find a place in New York, so what do I do ... I give up. I need to get remotivated, instead of just being so frustrated all the time!!! Jessica (wb) I just ran across some amazing fairly serious (!) bits of Wiki I've never seen before. Namely, the li'l graphics in the corners. And then I clicked on ANYONE and realized that there are all these tiny little bits of people out there, doing nothing, they're not discussions, they're just THERE. It's beautiful. blah. The weather was so gorgeous yesterday, and today it's foggy again. Sigh. -marina It's morning again. Sometimes i hate how the universe keeps doing that to me. Its rainy and grey here in Seattle which seems to make me happy, if the world was cheerful and bright today i might have to hurt it. I see Tessa today! all the appropriate people may feel jealouse. grin bugger on having to leave places and people i love. No purpose in posting, i am alive and traveling again. In Vancouver this afternoon..... love -Dawn For the past day or two I've really felt like rambling, but I haven't known what to write about. I think this'll be sort of a check in, but I plan to say whatever's on my mind. I'm not sure whether I miss you guys less or more away from home. Less because it's different here. There's more to think about. I also feel like, well, they're not at home either, why should I be! More, because my uncle doesn't have IRC. ;) Damn that thing is addicting... There's a squirrel hopping along the telephone wire outside my window. Makes me wonder if it was catapulted up there... Not really. But that's a small example of how Berkeley is different from Santa Barbara. There don't seem to be any squirrels in Santa Barbara, besides a couple in parks in the mountains. I really am a small town girl, I'm realizing. Santa Barbara is so homogenous, not just in the people or the red tile roofs, but in the way things are organized. The way everything's thought of. Last night I saw a chinese restaurant right next to an art supply store right next to a night club. That would never happen in Santa Barbara. Restaurants go here, craft stores go here, and the one nightclub is out by the train station next to the freeway. I don't know what to do with myself either. Maybe once I get out and start walking around it'll be more fun. I am almost completely on my own in a place I've almost never been before. I feel like I'm almost forcing myself to grow up a little. Type with capital letters at the beginning of sentences. Make nice little paragraphs. Go to a cafe and be mysterious. ;) Talk sense most of the time. Do I want this to happen? I think so. Why? I have no idea. I know I'm tired of being fifteen, but I thought I wanted to be sixteen or seventeen, not twenty. Oh, here come the age definitions. Well... but it's true. Everything is true right now. "Strawberry fields... nothing is real..." but it's all true. It's all inside of me. Berkeley is a metaphor for... ah... right. But it is. The reality is in my head. The houses outside are just extensions of my thoughts. This ramble is quite long enough now. I'm going to go eat breakfast. It'll seem odd to eat cheerios which are only thoughts... ;) -marina i made myself a coat of many colors, i don't know if it was to keep the world out or make it pay attention to me or if it just was *cool*. it was sparkly and sexy and dark and bright and purple and green and slick and silky and lacy and tight and billowy and it spoke catchphrases and had a certain way of standing. it defined me to everyone who saw it. it was everything i kept talking about, and the way i said it. it was who i loved and why. it was what i did and who i did and how i did it. it was mysterious and in your face. it was faeriedemonsulkygiggly. it was *me*. it was my mask. it was really fucking cool, and a little dorky and naive, and definitely original, except the parts i ripped off from other people. i'd sort of forgotten about it, i'd sort of grown out of it, i hadn't realized how much it meant to me...until i saw someone else wearing it. Jenny I've been traveling for like 6 weeks at this point, by the time i get home it will be for the grand total of 2 months and 3 days. Its kinda wierd.I dont dare let myself get homesick. Its my last night in Corvallis and i feel numb and tired, and on a buzz from a coffee ice cream mix drink. I feel like breaking some rules. I feel like i am over comeing my goody goody childhood Dawn (I was originally going to put this on the Uncrushables page, but it got kind of long and off-topic. A ramble.) According to Dawn, someone did have a crush on me at camp, but she won't tell me who it was. Since they haven't said a thing, it doesn't really seem like it counts. I kind of wish they'd say something about it, just so I'd know. But that could get ooky too, so. . . I'm not sure. But, for all intents and purposes, I'm an Uncrushable. To be fair, I haven't had any major crushes on people either. I've just walked around camp going, "Oh, that person's attractive, and so is that one, and that one. . . God, how can it be possible? We're all gorgeous!" but not getting attatched to any one person. Is it fair to want someone to have thought I, personally, was cute? I guess I usually think it's natural that people wouldn't have crushes on me. For one thing, I'm on the youngish side for camp (and, according to some people, look it). For another, I don't go in for flirting and that. I'm not sure I know how, or that I even should know how, at this moment in time. (Then again, my little sister [age eleven] is already quite adept. So who knows.) On the other hand, almost all my friends are in love. Often with each other. I know some of you can identify with me on this: it sucks. Not only do I feel like I'm maladjusted and undesirable, but my friends spend a lot of time with their SO's that they would normally spend with their friends (namely, me, me, me!). Sometimes I wish I had a SO, just so someone would choose spending time with me over spending time with anyone else. But that's not a good reason either. But it's not really an issue of being in love. It's just an issue of first impressions. For someone to have a crush on you, it means they think you're physically attractive, and (maybe) that they like your manner. And that's all it means. Do I want to be identified for that? No. I often go out of my way to produce the opposite impression: Don't think of me as someone you could be attracted to, but as someone you can relate to and talk to. A person, not a crush. But I still go on wishing I was attractive to people, in the corner of my mind. That's hypocritical. So what to do, what to do? It would be nice for someone to have a crush on me. God, would it be nice. But I want it for the wrong reasons and I would probably handle it the wrong way. Do I like being an Uncrushable? No. Am I ready to not be one? Not by a long shot. - Naela
Woke up today and discovered that I am entirely lonely for a correspondant and in need of writing some letters. I however need someone to write to who promises to write back. I'd been writing in a journal a lot before this summer, but then I realized that beneath my writing I always had the assumption that one day I would be famous and some other people would want to read my journals. That was before I went through a major cleaning binge and threw away many of my old journals not needing the thoughts lingering pathetically waiting to be read. However, I now notice that I like to write, and more especially I like to write things that will be read. Thus I need a penpal. Please write me. Arlyn Heideman 1104 350 0rd Hotchkiss, CO 81419 I am tired. Today I started wondering about yo-yo's. Is a string part of the yo-yo? Or is the string a seperate entity? If the string is seperate should'nt you say I'm playing with my yo-yo and string? Or if it's all one and the string breaks do you say I'm playing with my yo-yo minus string? Just let that float around in your head for a while. If you think you know the answer e-mail me. §Matt H§
I woke up at a bit after 11pm, to the sound of high decabel Opra out side my window, being Kerokie'd by a Lateno man. it's not "my" window really, but sertinly my place of rest for the next week or so. The appertment is small, 4 rooms and a bathroom, clutterd but cosey and the company is good. after wakeing my self up suficiatly, I tip tow in to the main room, trying not to wake the 2 people sleeping on the coutch, and retreave my guitar from it's hard shell traveling case. Grabbing another klenx, I sneek back to my room muttering under my breath at the remanance of the cold, picked up from so many new friends a week before. Locateing my notebook, I lay on my back stareing up at the celing wondering which of my emotions is worthy of writeing todays song. Ry looks down from his typeing with a quisical look, as if to ask "what's up?" "well", I start, awncering the unspoken question, "theres like this bar, see, and theres like, all these little me's filling it, I mean really, little me's, danceing, playing pool, and right now, well, I just called a fight" I pause for a second relizeing the possable insanaty I could be convaying, but relizeing my reputation for being "crazy as cheese wizz" preceeds me and that theres not much I could do to sway that one way or the other any how, expecialy with ry, I continue; "well these little me's are like all the emotional stuff I'm going through now and in the last few weeks, I called a fight to see who's strongest in a sence.. who's ever left standing is ready to write a song.. it's a new theory of mine, not a very peaceful but who knows" Ry smiles, nods, says "yea" and goes back to his typeing. .. I think he knows me too well. "Ry, have you ever had it where the bathroom is your santurarry?" he laughs, spins around in his chair and says "what is this now?" "yea, I mean.. I was pictureing how I love airports right? I love to walk around like I have somewhere I'm going, and watch the people and all there emotions, theres alot of emotions in airports" noding "yea ok" "well I was just thinking that I've had alot more places to go recently, I'm at the airports actually going places.. I've only been home a week and a half in the last two months, one side of the country to the other, literally, I still love airports, but it's not the same, recently, the bathrooms have been like a sacanturarry.. not just in airports, most every where... it's a place I can go and shut the door, and for a little while, theres a pause" I'm a prefectinost, that means I'm never compleatly happy with everyting. I want more then anything to go in to the unseen parts of the airport, the places they send the moviestars so they don't get mobed by crazed fans and shit. that only people with money and janators see, the quiet places of the airport, where theres a pause all the time. I know I wouldent be happy with that either, I'd miss the people and the emotions in the bussy halls. It has to be all or nothing wiht me, I've already made my choice. Ry gives me some understanding words of encuragement, about reaching my goals, public restrooms and air travel, and as always, I feel better after talking to him. The bar room fights in my head wore frutless and ended with every one of me walking away with purple and blue marks. Someone once told me that "if it's too hard, your not doing it right" I should remember that, makeing music shouldn't erupt in battles with ones self. It's not something I can force, and I wonder if any one can. "let the notes come to you" gotta remember that... stop being such a workaholic.. I get up from my place, grab another klenx and kiss Ry on the forhead, before flopping back on the mattresses, I like being able to start over when things don't work right the first time. Falling back asleep, I here the lateno man has switched his musical taistes to Shniai Twain. "he sounds happy... intresting peddle steal work"... Lotus I miss him. I miss the sound of his voice. I miss the feel of his arms around me. I miss his smell. I miss him whispering "I love you" in my ear. I miss him playing with my hair. I miss us talking about "Bob". I miss him grabbing my hand. I miss leaning my head on his shoulder. I miss our four hour long phone conversations and our IRC trout fights. I miss him, I miss everything. I miss us. I'm mad at myself. Mad at myself for ruining what we had. Blaiming myself for scaring him and pushing him away. Mad that I still love him even after all the crap he's put me through. Mad that I was immature and stupid. Mad that I've ruined any chance there ever was of having any kind of relashinship with him. Mad that he fell for someone else. Mad that we only had two days together. Angry. Angry that I've lost him. Angry that for whatever reason he's not in my life anymore. Angry that I blaim myself and that I can't do anything to fix the things I did. Why can't I take it all back. Why can't I go back in time and redo the stupid things I did. Why can't I go back and not call him, not leave him and her alone together. Not stop searching for him until I find him. Hold him close and tell him how much it hurts me when he crys. Give him back his jacket, not ruin it. Not have a big huge stupid immature fight. It's all stupid. It's all fucked up. It's all pain. Why can't we go back to the beauty. I want to go back to the beauty. I'm sad and depressed and angry and lonely and.... I miss camp, I miss the people. I'm thinking of Session Two and how great it would be to be there. I wish I was there. And last night the greatest relationship with a most incredible and wonderful guy ended ...and I miss him soooo much and I feel like shit inside because he doesn't want to talk to me or have anything to do with me. I fight with myself every minute because I want to call him and I would do anything to see him...but I'm afraid I shouldn't, and I'm afriad that he'll shut me out and that he hates me. I know I hurt him. I know I made a mistake. Maybe it's all my fault. I can't bear it when I think about never talking to him again, I can't even bear it when I think about not talking to him for a few weeks. I've already bitched about it to friends, I've already written 20 pages in my diary, I don't feel any better. Why can't I take it back? Why can't I know what'll be a mistake before I make that mistake? Why do I have to think about it so much when it something of the past (even if it wasn't very long ago)? Why does it have to hurt so much? ah, rambling, rambling (but that what this is all for...right?). I guess I'll feel down for a few more days, until I get something to cheer me up. -amberlee My belly hurts, and i want to go travel.. but i have nooo money.. so that wont get me anywhere. not even down the street. I will find a way! even if i have to swim to scotland! oooh beautiful scotland! with its fog, and its rain, and its green grass, and its castles, and its beauty! and it is MY land!! For i long for the land of scotland. ~Alyson oh dear... if there was any time in this foggy existence of mine that i needed to ramble, i do believe it would be this moment... this moment that seems so hard to catch. so my heart hurts, i think, but it's distantly connected to my mind, so it's so hard to tell... but i'll leave my skin for a time and watch with telescope such a strange being moving freely but with pain. i tip-toe, too much broken glass. rosy sunglasses, eery background music. looking for a feeling that is like no other but i am lost. lost among emotions i pretend... bracelets on my arm, glitter on my face. it doesn't matter if the music is too loud, who needs ear-drums anyway. the cops won't come, but if they do i'll bat my eye-lashes at them and let there be peace. let there be peace, that's what i'm about. everything is gonna be alright. no more. i can't float like a feather in this beautiful world... i was sitting in this chair and in my ears was a voice that belongs to another but it was speaking truths from my heart. and i don't understand it. you're so very special. i wish i was special. then my heart wanders to the men, the boys, the others who add a very specific zing to this. run, i'm always running. looking he was looking at my eyes. i wonder if he could ever be mine. lusty lusty thing am i, sitting moving to these tunes. give me room for mistakes, and i'll grow and flourish. perhaps. perhaps. perhaps. strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words, killing me softly with his song. do you know that feeling where you think you're okay, you think you can make it another minute without breaking down? i didn't make it. break it down. i don't know where i'm at, and i'm not sure how i feel. i am very disconnected, out-of-focus. i can't wait to hold someone's hand. i wish you could hear my heart beat. i wish i could watch your eyes blink. sometimes the music carries me to you, i wonder if i'm ever on your mind. and jake poked me in the belly-button and it was all he could do to take my breathe away and i was kissing him with my eyes. i wonder if he felt it. that intensity that somehow appeared... poof, it was there and i could barely keep my distance. and andrew was with a girl, but that's not saying much. too bad i can't see him for what he is, too bad he won't look my way any longer. i still wear his ring, because i still love him. his hands felt so right in mine... but so quickly it went sour. and andy... oh andy. oh if he only knew that this little thing has longed for him since puberty. yes, it's been a long time since i first laid eyes on him. he was the most beautiful thing i'd ever seen. and he watched me grow, he kept his eye on me. i wonder if he remembers as well as i do that night he told me i have the body of a belly-dancer. happy birthday, andy. you're sitting wondering if i've gotten much prettier. you'll see. i look forward to a kiss on the cheek, but even more to putting my hands through your hair. i laugh, because this is deffinately the rambling of a very small very silly very confused little girl. watch your step, don't be too loud, and try your hardest not to sing in the halls of Richardson Junior High. flirt with the boys, cock your eyebrow at the girls, and suck up to the teachers. keep your head on child, and don't go crying in the bathroom between periods. ~unobtrusively yours, naomi the moth~ I got an e-mail from a friend today, a really cheerful, perky, amazingly exhilarated letter about how much she loved me and how beautiful and special the world and I both were. It was sweet, and I feel touched, really. . . . but there's this funny little part of me that wonders what good thing happened in her life today, to prompt such an e-mail. A part of me that knows that something must have prompted it, since my friend rarely writes like that, and feels rather stingy-grumpyish as a result. I'm feeling out of sorts with myself, I think.
I'm in a weird mood. Semi-sucky. I went to Oregon Country Fair today with Nick and Justin, and hung out with Jennyrose for a while there. It's neat, the people-watching alone was worth the twelve bucks to get in (though Nick bought my ticket, so caveat wikor). We saw Grace there. I met Skip for the first time, too, as he was there, as well as... darn, I can't remember her name, but she was at camp/96... On to the sucky part. I'm partly depressed with life in general, faced with having to join the rat-race. Barely making rent and food is not good. Seeing so many cool people in one space made me think of how much can be accomplished if we could not waste our energy on useless work (think McDonalds, the government, advertising... the like. So much waste...). Makes me hate the system. Argh. People-watching there was fun. It's so rare to see so many people so utterly comfortable with their bodies... Men and women, thick and thin.... and so many had such beautiful bodies, too, moving gracefully through the crowds, and decorated so many ways. A variety of faerie wings were there, body paint, tattoos, little clothing, lots of clothing, henna, bandanas, scarves, costume from so many countries...
heh. believe it or not, a day in the life of the *icks is not half as glamorous as it sounds. ;) anyway, i'm nervous right now. i'm going to oregon country fair today and i'll be gone without phone or computer access until sunday night. i'm nervous because i'm on teen staff crew, because i get to see nick and lauren and erica and caity and sifra, because my mommy and daddy won't be there, except for sunday. i think i have a lot in the back of my mind, which is making me nervous, but those are the most present reasons. oh yeah and i have to get up at 6-6:30/7-7:30 every morning of the fair so i can work til 11 and noon. erk! ah sigh. anyway. so that's me. if i had more time to be on the computer today, i was going to make a GeneralWorries page, but someone else might do it for me? if not, i'll do it when i return. just thought camp worries aren't the worst of anything in anyone's life. heh. ;) i love you all (and need to learn to stop saying anyway all the time. erh) and i dont know when i'll be back on irc b/c lauren sydney wales is coming to visit for 3 days after sunday. Soo... i will be back eventually. :) *hugs* -jennyrose Here I am, rambling again. I have too many emotions flooding me right now and I think that maybe writing will help me sort out my crowded mind. I am stressed out and heartachey. I feel like a total screw up. I'm going to have to accept the fate that I won't be able to travel, all things considered, after nbtsc. I am leaving for music camp in Durango, Colorado in 6 days and I want to have all my thoughts and feelings integrated before then so I can actually be aware and in present time. The main thing about traveling after nbtsc is that I want to see James. I guess I will have to plan another time when I can just go down to Cali, no strings attached. Euh...I give up. I am going to go to my camps, allow Courtney her own travel. She is intitaled her own fun and not having to be responsible for me. Then she can go to theory also and that I know will make her and many other people happy. It feels good to let go of some of my travel-related stress. I wanted to see Cali and Canada...spend a day or two in the life of the *icks. Maybe next year eh? When things aren't so insane. ~Erin I've totally been into painting lately. Im painting everything that isnt nailed to the floor, flashlights, picture frames, back pack covers, my journal, bits of cardboard. its getting kinda insane, but i love it. I just wish i didnt have to spend so much time every day studying math when i would rather be painting. Dawn JessicaSkater was here... yuck. I'm painting my room, and it's a big pain in the butt... at least windows are... I like doing walls, but the fartsy, putzy, boring work (windows, trim, etc...) suck. With walls, you can go nuts, just so long as you get everything covered, but windows?? noooooooo. you've gotta be careful so you don't break the freaking windows!!!!!!!!!!! Arrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! Following is a large scale announcment Shippy and Dawn Smith are now officially 18!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yay for chaos! yay for being adults! yay for happy drugs after getting 4 wisdom teeth out!-Dawn the tired but very very happy Dear my dearest Eryn, I cannot describe my feelings. An intensity is growing inside of me. I am restless and can't get you out of my head. My love for you is like the glorious sun on a bright and beautiful day, fresh like the dew on the green grass in the morning, the intensity of a crackle of lightning, breaking the calm before a thunderstorm. BOOGIE BOOGIE DOWN!! I just want to take you in my arms and give you a big smooch. BANANA SPLIT FOR MY BABY, GLASS OF PLAIN WATER FOR MEEEEE... Dear dear Eryn, let us retreat to a closet, I am feeling urgent, my sweet desperation! HIDIHIDIHIDI HIII!! Come with me now, my love, if you want the time of your sweet beautiful life! Love always and forever, courtney
math is Evil. Anyone who can tell me how to factor a polynominal properly, please please please e-mail me. :) really. Dawn I am slowly growing out of what I used to be. It's not easy, really, because I have all these fears and ploys I use to get attention, and they're almost a habit sometimes, I don't even realize I'm doing them. It's an addiction. I am learning not to hate myself, to regard myself as a sometimes embarassing, sometimes silly, but always well-intentioned person. Harder than living with other people is living with yourself. I am learning. I still wish I could be one of those perfect people, who never gets scared and never gets angry. I have to realize that it's never going to happen. Last week I started to get angry and rude and sarcastic about everything, for no reason at all, when I was trapped in a car for three hours with my family. I am never going to grow out of hurting people. Not in this life. I'm just doing the best I can. I still want something I can believe in. The whole world thrives upon change, but the human race thrives upon faith in something, and the two don't go together. I am slowly accepting the fact that people will hurt me, badly, no matter how nice they are, and I will hurt people, no matter how nice I try to be. Even I fall in love, and think "this is it, this is forever" it's not. Nothing is forever. At some point in our relationship we are going to utterly loathe one another. And that is perfectly okay and normal. The only person I have the right to try to change is myself. This sounds harsh, I think, which is not the way it's supposed to sound. To me the feeling is relief. I'm letting go of the belief that there is a perfect corner of the world, where someday, if I'm good, I can go and never be hurt or embarrassed or angry or depressed ever again. It's scary but almost comforting. - Naela *Naela, that's wonderful. I've been trying to find that kind of clarity and acceptance of Things As They Are for a long time, and I've only rarely gotten anywhere near to it. I'm so glad you're getting close to having that awareness. You're much wiser than I ever expect to be. /Love, Mitchell/ Ideas are like marshmallows...tasty and easily malleable. - Emma I am so amazingly bored. I was planning on dying my hair red today, but I bought only the colour and not some other thing that keeps it from coming out right away, or something. Ugh. That means I have to dye my hair tomorrow. And I want to do some work, but there is no work for me to do. Or course, I can work tomorrow. ~the annoyed Erin~5-23-2000 This is a wierd kind of day for me. *sighs* I'm lonely, but not for any particular person - I just feel kind of lost and empty. I don't understand anything, and it's very depressing. Why do other people make so very little sense? Why do I let it bother me? Urgh . . . sometimes I wish that people's minds were like diaries, all written down and dated in scrawly handwriting, and that I could go flipping through them in search of what I wanted to know. 'Course, then I'd feel guilty for snooping. So maybe there isn't any answer, really. I imagine that guesses make up more of what we call "certainty" than any of us would like to admit. - Amy I've written on here too much, but I guess I'll write here again. I wrote a poem about this in JottingDownBones, but it didn't express this completely, so I'm writing it here too. Sorrowful when I think back on an instrument that used to define me, regretful and depressed I lay on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I don't care anymore, but oh how I do. It's hard to lose something like this. I see people around me playing the piano beautifully, they know how to connect with it... I stumble my fingers slip on the keys my mind empty and lost. All that promise I had, so much talent that adults told me they'd see me in Carnegie Hall, I see myself fallen behind jealous and angry because something once promised to me has become a bittersweet memory of childhood. I hold back tears and the lump in my throat, listening to a song filled with beautiful piano. So much expression I once had, that same expression now is blocked off. "I want to quit", waiting out the lessons to the end of the semester every day at the piano is a silent dying agony. I'm thinking of a summer of distraction and a fall with the piano in the living room, reminding me what I've lost haunting me with it's regrets. My regrets. I remember when I connected spiritually with this instrument and made light come into people's souls. That golden genius girl is gone now. God, it's so hard to let go... /~Eryn/ So how is everyone tonight? Good? Good.... well, I have no idea why I'm even typing anything here... I have absolutely nothing of importance to say... We're leaving for Cedar Point on SUNDAY!!!!!! I'm so flippin' excited! I can't wait to ride Millenium Force (read: 310 foot roller coaster, 80 degree angle, 97 mph top speed... WHEEEEEEE!). Well, this is just getting silly, and besides, I have absolutely (I love that word!) nothing more to say right now... until I post this, and then I will come up with a billion things to say - Oh, yeah, I am being considered for a full scholarship to the college of my choice already- and I'm not even 'officialy' in high school yet! And also... those question mark things don't exsist, but feel free to make them sites!! Though I don't know what you'd put on them... you figure it out! -Jessica, who is incredibly giddy, and excited, and happy, and pissed, and everything all at once! Aeeie! Thunder crashes outside me, lightning flashes across the sky. Tori Amos plays calmly and sadly on my stereo system, the light in my room harsh and glaring because I killed my lampshade. The sound rolls across the sky and I jump, startled and scared. I am never scared of thunderstorms, I love them so mcuh, but I am alone in my room and for some reason tonight is different. There is a sinister and overwhelming quality about this storm. I imagine that the lights go out and something could grab my arm from the closet. *~Eryn Tori Amos is a goddess *swoon* *~Eryn Bleh. I feel yucky. I think I should go to bed. *sigh* (~summer) For your editing pleasure, all pages now sport spiffy-if-small Edit links right under the logo. Enjoy. (Ari) Here's a top'o'de page EditText link, for less scrolling... I wonder if it will work... Bother... it doesn't... I want it to... humph. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ooo goodie, I think I remembered what I called my own personal babble page... now if I can just have the luck to spell "devious" the same way I did a couple weeks ago then I can make meself another link, and thereby, get to it, and update it... humm... best start with the magic words and theatrical waving about of the hands... A Swami's pazam and some Alakazaam, ALLA PENUT BUTTER SANDWICHES!!!!! <poof> ZackTheDevious. Well here I am. I have not dissapeared from the face of the earth entirely. I actually have just been sitting and chilling here (MT)and have been writing some kick ass poetry ( in my opinion they are) and taking some classes at the community collage. Drinking coffee and thinking about the Dharma. Well that's it from here. love Stuee You too eryn? oy... *sigh* well, I suppose that's not something I'm entirely new too... who am I trying to kid, jake desided he was never trying to run any event with me like 3 years ago... heh heh heh... oh well... *sigh* I think I need to rant about my life but I suppose I should do that on my me pagish thing.... now... if I could just remember what I called it... damnit *ick, why can't you flip the RecentChanges page upsidedown with the new stuff at the top and then just let the old stuff sit around at the bottom? Or at least make an "Old Changes" page, or something. Bah... ~Mr.z~ Life is hard. I keep hurting/offending people because of my suddenly volatile temper. *sigh* This is kind of new for me... I'm used to keeping my feelings inside. Aaargh, dammit! I wonder how fast I'm going to alienate all my friends... I've already messed up a few friendships. Go me. I just make myself sick. Sorry. (hahahah! For the first time I forgot to put my name! HAHAHA! -Eryn) Ayahaha. Smoothies, mix-tapes, wiki wiki web, Flipnotics Coffee Space, SAT prep, phone calls, and email. These things fill my life. I'm starting to wonder if my priorities are straigh. *sigh* (~summer) Making money to buy gas is filling my life. Aaaaughdfdslk! (-courtney) I'm listening to the Indigo Girls and feeling just the tiniest bit lonely... I miss Dawn. I miss everyone. The sounds I hear are lonely and ethereal. This is the place I know best but I somewhat empty. The clock says midnight and I feel like it's five in the morning. I must be getting normal... I used to be able to stay up late easily. Very tired, I hope the caffeine will kick in soon. Anyway. Ramblerambleblah. :) *~Eryn Hehehe, neither will I, at least not till tomarrow when I go home and start competing my mother for the computer again... (Arg!! and she has vito-power.) ~Mr.z~ I love this thing TOO much. It's addictive. We're all so rad. Freestylin'. Messing around, clicking around, creating links where there are question marks. I'll never be able to stop!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! (~summer) To be sure, pizzas fly in the veil of night. That is, CheesePizzas fly under cover of night. This is to avoid attack by roving bands of fieldmice.[1] Hmm, thinking about rules. I keep seeing wiki pages by people fearful of stuff being deleted. "Don't delete this", whatever. This is so kewl, because it's like a grafitti wall. It gets painted over on occasion (nice thing about htis is that it never gets all painted at once.) It's a bit of WabiSabi, it's ephemeral. Things don't last forever. The best stuff lasts longer. (and you know what? The Wiki archives the old pages, every time someone edits. Eventually, there will be a way to look back through previous stuff, perhaps). (Ari) *Though on certain subpages, it seems a little appropriate. This page, for example, keeps a format, that of a guestbook. It makes sense to have ~rule here. Not so on every page, though, and that's what I was seeing. /(Ari)/ hell, i want summer now! tori and ani are goddesses,a ren't they? :) i need to send you a mix tape still, missy eryn, because you need more tori & ani. *smile* anyway... i feel good today. i talked to nick and spurted all of my depression out and now life is beautiful again. *sends virtual kisses to her boy who probably never reads this, but anyway...* [0] love you all, sweetlings. -jenla I'm ALL for deleting spam! *echos Zack's cry of joy* Muah. I just visited Dawn and her family for two weeks! Dammit, I miss my best friend. Damn DIGITAL age where your friends live thousands of miles away. I wish I was all grown up. I spent twelve hours dealing with planes to get back to Connecticut. I don't like planes much, I'm a train girl. Oh, I hope summer comes fast.... but not TOO fast. Tori Amos and Ani Difranco are Goddesses. I love you all. Talk to me. *~Eryn don't even start, zakarria. :) by the way, who would be moonwulf? what a total fake. geeze. hmph. <wulfaerie grumbles> wooohooooo!!! yay for deleting spam! ...buy the way, anybody want to win a million gazzionion <chomp> ~z~
[0] it seems weird to change the text of a guestbook type thing. if you'd rather, feel free to delete that, or... whatever. um. it no longer applies anyhow. ~jennyrose (who has no idea how she feels about that fact at the moment... it comes and goes... *sigh*) [1] Ahh!! Methinks this must somehow connect to the Anchovie mystery!! [See: GreenAndWhiteAreTheSameColor] No, no, stop, write new stuff at the Top!! NBTSWikiWiki | Recent Changes Edited 185 times, last edited on May 28, 2001 by ::ffff:212.13.117.195. © 2000 NBTSC Webmasters |
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