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[08 Dec 2009|07:41pm] |
does any one play....
FARMVILLE?!?!?
if so..
add me on fb, and then as a neighbour.
Josie Borgia. :)
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[08 Dec 2009|01:26pm] |
More progress:
 "If I were to live my life in catfish forms in scaffolds of skin and whiskers at the bottom of a pond and you were to come by one evening when the moon was shining down into my dark home and stand there at the edge of my affection and think, "It's beautiful here by this pond. I wish somebody loved me," I'd love you and be your catfish friend and drive such lonely thoughts from your mind and suddenly you would be at peace, and ask yourself, "I wonder if there are any catfish in this pond? It seems like a perfect place for them." " -Richard Brautigan (Your Catfish Friend) ( (+2 more) ) |
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[08 Dec 2009|02:52pm] |
Blizzard is taking forever to work on the servers today, and I really want to try out the new patch. This is of course, relating to WoW.
I have 3, yes 3 finals tomorrow. I am prepared for every single one. I'm just glad my earliest class is cancelled and that final is monday, so i can at least sleep in.
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| first time posting.. |
[08 Dec 2009|02:43pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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music coming from the Chinese Cinema class |
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I actually found this comm via Tumblr; i hope no one minds me sharing my crappy stuff. ;;;;
( Read more... )
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| mod post: friending meme! |
[08 Dec 2009|08:11am] |
since we are all so community happy dappy here [something i lovelovelove about us all] i thought maybe a friending meme post might be in order for everyone looking for new lj art crushes.
respond in comments with some, any, or none of the following + whatever else you think is good to know about YOU, then everyone can sift through to find people they just gotta know.
name:
place:
age:
favorite artists/music/movies/stuff:
pictures of your journal:
what are you looking for in a new lj friend:
if you had to be a tree, what kind of tree would you be:
<3
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| part 4. drunker. |
[08 Dec 2009|12:31am] |
i love drunk free writing... :P
////
part four.
i swore i'd never write a poem about love.
not after you cut yourself in half like a bakers dozen
that doesn't make sense
because you crossed a country for your brother
who didn't amount to what
you were afraid that you weren't.
and when you got back it was all different.
every microscopic segment of your life had been split into threes.
and bees knees
if your grandpa hadn't died
and you lied when you said that you were glad you were home
because the only home youve ever known lives in your stomach
next to the poem about your wife
that you love that you left that you wish could see aurora borealis with her eyes closed
like the last girl you met could
next to the bottle that's now empty like your pockets
if only your dreams could stop being so goddam perfect
next to
life's getting hard because i want it all
all the good
and the god
and the silver gold midnight express main event
of my drunk old self
on this porch
with too many thoughts to write down on this page
before my cigarette goes out.
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| i'm cheating. 1:45 early. |
[08 Dec 2009|12:15am] |
i feel like
a tight rolled cigarette
from all last nights snipes
that i rolled poorly
and am trying to find the smallest ounce of satisfaction from
should i feel that small?
picture after picture
word after word
drink upon drink
i think i'd sink to the bottom if i could
the bottom of the bottle
where it's shallow and i drank the rest
in a pitiful attempt to find God or happiness or love or some other cliche that i'm tired of writing about.
you know?
these cigarettes only taste good when i'm telling the truth
and i swear
if i tell another goddam lie
i'm going to stop smoking
because it's really not worth it.
cigarettes are expensive these days.
and i really want to see G-d in something
and finish my book
and find a happy ending
Someday.
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[08 Dec 2009|12:01am] |
two am mornings
shmoo am mornings.
i don't need a fucking alarm clock.
the thing is i'm always too drunk at 11pm.
11:11; if you're into wishes.
it creates too much confusion and pressure to obey a time constraint
that i rarely can find enough faith to believe in.
honest.
this includes the criminal justice system.
i had court today and showed up only a minute early;
because i wanted to stop and pick up a 'monster' (which, i know, are disgusting.),
in order to jazz myself up enough to take on the system.
well,
black ties and dreadlocks don't really mean shit there.
and when your last name starts with a 'w',
you basically earn yourself a free pass to watching everyone else go in front of you.
which,
to most,
would probably seem like a very frustrating inconvenience.
but to i, the jobless-homeless-reckless-revolutionary,
it means the glowing face of artistic possibility. (*mild sarcasm*)
i studied every shoplifting, suspended-license, trespassing-face of each of the old lady & teenage white male
criminal bastards in an attempt to discover what it is to be a 'law-breaker'
and unlock some universal secret to happiness
or G-d
or knowledge
and, in hopes of capturing the perfect story to be retold/rewritten/passed down.
but,
i have self-diagnosed ADD
and got distracted and looked at the carved graffiti on the wooden pews in front of me
watched the tear drop tattoo faces and the middle aged women diamond stud jeans
and the frightened seventeen year old hair cuts
try and convince a man that they were worthy enough
and it all just made me too damn sad.
so sad that i can't even write.
can't even enjoy this glass of wine.
or these last three cigarettes.
sat down at my piano and failed to play something beautiful.
sat down at my typewriter and it has run out of ink.
sat down with my cigarette and my lighter has run out of flint.
looked at the kitchen
there are dishes filling the sink.
i'm too damn sad to tell you anything more about the courtroom.
because i used to want to be robin hood
and peter pan
and kerouac
i used to see God in my lampshades
hold my breath over bridges
and make wishes on plastic submarines in the bathtub with my twin brother when we were 3.
i want all of those things back.
before there was a system.
and that man wasn't crying, with the blue tear tattoo,
in the pew right behind me.
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[08 Dec 2009|02:13am] |
i will definitely be a bit confused when i wake up in the morning.
i just rearranged my entire dorm room with my roommate...at 2am...while drunk.
this should make for an interesting morning.
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| celebrity is as celebrity does |
[07 Dec 2009|11:28pm] |
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Does anyone remember that show Sunset Beach? (A really awful soap opera with a serial killer with a fake British accent that no one remembers but me.) I'm asking because every time I bring it up, people look at me like I've lost my mind. But I haven't lost my mind. The guy from that show has shown up on CSI Miami and I can't stop talking about it and how that one guy got stabbed in the back with a shovel and it took him two episodes - TWO! - to die. I haven't lost my mind. Yes, I spend my days living vicariously through film and television stars, but this has less to do about that and more to do with my uncanny talent for facial recognition. I can't be the only one. Someone else had to realize Anakin Skywalker was in New Moon, and how many times Milo V has been on Law and Order, and somebody else out there has to remember Sunset Beach and this fucking guy that ruined LeAnn Rimes' marriage and then showed up in Miami-Dade with David Caruso.
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| new |
[07 Dec 2009|11:34pm] |
( +23 )
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[07 Dec 2009|09:40pm] |
i used to think i was immune to heartbreak. i always left them before they were given the chance to hurt me, because i couldn't face it.
the boy i've been obsessing over since i moved to this city, who has made me believe we could have been something, has turned away from me.
he's with somebody else now, who is probably a lot prettier and smarter and way more in his league than i'll ever be.
i never thought i'd feel this pathetic.
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[07 Dec 2009|04:34pm] |
maybe this is a stoned thought
or maybe its a serious thought i can only think of when im stoned because my brain functions slower so i concentrate more on the small things
but
i hate, and i mean right when i see it i get a little bit angry inside, and my skin crawls, and i am just in disbelief, hate is when i see pens without pen caps.
why
why is is so hard to put a pen cap BACK on the pen?
do you really have that much time in between taking a pen cap off and putting it on the end?
you really get distracted the moment you take the pen cap off, a light bulb goes off in your head
and you quickly drop the pen cap and do it, then you continue to use that pen, cap less.
maybe i am really stoned and crazy .
like am i the only one that certain small things trigger me that much more when im stoned?
the smallest thing change my emotion so fast.
i dont know. sorry bad rant.
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[07 Dec 2009|08:27pm] |
I wore that scarf that you bought me today.
You bought one for each of us, I remember:
Three different colours, purple, green and red.
You let her pick first, of course you did, and we all saw the cuteness in this, apart from her, who remained oblivious, or more likely obstinate.
She picked green.
Then you came to me, and I wonder if you saw the pure unadulterated joy in my eyes at this gesture. You wouldn't know it then but such a small action left me happy for the rest of that bitter winter. This was one of the first times I knew I was home when I was with all of you.
I picked purple.
Lastly you got to her, you appoligised at her having no choice, as me and her ran up to her excited about our new accessories. She looked us over, and then back at you.
"It's okay, I would have picked red anyway."
Maybe I look for too much symbolism in things, but I thought each colour suited us perfectly, you probably never even realised it. We wore our scarves faithfully throughout that winter. I think we thought it bound us together, a unity, we were us.
That was before she hated you, before he broke her heart and before I stopped believing in forevers.
The green scarf got burnt.
The red scarf got lost.
But my purple scarf, I still have it. It still smells like last year, of friendship and of late drunken tears on late drunken nights, of hard times and dark times, of singing in the middle of the road, of walking through the bitter cold with last drags on our last cigarettes, I swear it's my last, of the sunrises we never managed to stay awake to watch.
Every time I wear it, I'll remember when we were an us and fall in love with my own nostalgia.
Thank you <3
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[07 Dec 2009|01:56pm] |
Anne Whitehouse is reading her poetry on every radio station NPR related with her latest release, Blessings and Curses. The spirit of her voice is embedded in the words of this collection of 40 blessings and 24 curses. Read our review of Blessings and Curses here and find out more about Anne and her life as a poet.
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[07 Dec 2009|09:45am] |
I haven't had much time to keep a journal in the past three months, but this is the cover of my school notebook, the closest thing to a journal i have.
( One more here )
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[07 Dec 2009|05:38am] |
i didn't sleep at all tonight.
instead of writing my research paper.
I played in the snow, from 2amish to 4amish.
followed by hot chocolate and a shower.
now i don't have any more of my paper done
and i'm heading off to class on no sleep.
i'm exhausted and a little bit rejuvenated.
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