Merry Christmas
goddam spoiled rotten kids....
Yesterday my family went to Gramma's for christmas eve dinner.
In the afternoon I pigged out on pickled herring, bond-ost, and summer sausage.
Later I had dinner: ham, korv, rye bread, lutefisk, and rice pudding. After that we opened our presents(I didn't get anything I put on my blog's Christmas list so I guess I'll have to wait till next year and get a job). After that we all had dessert: Christmas cookies and fruit soup.
Today was pretty much the same except I brought Brian with me to see what a picture perfect Christmas looked like. Brian didn't even have to sit at the kidde table next to the cat box like every other year. Maybe I spoiled a cherished tradition for him, lol.
For dinner today I had roast beef, rye bread, croissant roll, and brussel sprouts for dinner. And I can't wait till next year cause the spirit of christmas is not in presents, but in Christmas dinner and dessert and a million snacks in between! I'm such a piggy!

Happy (late) Thanksgiving!
Life is still good. Hooray for happiness.
Christmas is coming
here is my wish list:
- adigital camera
- sexy underware
- anything warm and fuzzy
- beautiful, wonderful, shiny things
- pickled herring
- PS2
- Gameboy advanced or DS
- most of all I want to know that ALL of my friends and buddies are happy or at least alive
-----------------------------------
B-days continued:
Nate: Mar 15
Matthew: Nov 10

Today I am this many years old:
--( holds up 19 fingers).
I'm an old lady now and I'm gonna take up knitting and quilting start bitching about everything 'cause I'm a bitter old hag.
Isn't 19 the age you stop growing?
Stop growing, start dying. I think I heard that breasts can continue growing until your mid-twenties. There is still hope for me yet... hah
-- So I guess I'm supposed to be a responsible adult by now, or I could opt to be an emotionally and mentally immature college kid. Hmmm this is what CHS guidence counselors call making a life choice...
-F' that.
I'll just live at home until I'm 30.
I had fun last night/this morning. I love my friends.
So I'll try to remember your bithdays when they come up
Christa: Apr. 11
Sammy: Jun. 7
Brian: May 7
Sparky: May 8
Jimmy: Sep. 9
Ed: Nov. 17
Looks like I've missed a few ahhg.. well slap me with a trout or somthin'..

Happy Halloween
you shmucks!
..So life isn't so bad cause I don't have to baby sit the old man, no urinal dumping, no food cooking nothing.
Hooray for me! Look at me and my unabashed lack of simpathy for the old man's health!
-------
I can't wait for all this election crap to be over, I feel like a dumb-ass getting all worked up about it like every other shmuck in the country. I want Bush to lose so bad.. oooooooooo. Burn in hell Busshy!! I want your loss to be a loss for the unborn, a loss for the catholics and the baptists, and right-wing nutcases, for FOX news, for crackers and rednecks and , for the unreasonably selsfishly rich corporations. I want you to lose for Penn York camp, and potter county and all snooty republicans. I wan't your loss to be a tremendous loss to jesus. I want your loss to be loss for all those blinded by red-white and blue, god fearing bible-thumping manifest destiny imperialist patriotism. A loss for Bush is a loss for the "optimists"-- for Texas-- and for "mer'ca"

For those of you who don't know, the old man fell off a ladder while painting the apartment house in the back yard he broke his shoulder and ankle.
Guess who has to nurse him back to health when he gets out of the hospital?
CAN YOU TAKE A WILD FUCKING GUESS!
GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH %@#&* fuck fuck fuck fuck!
I have very little patience and sympathy for sick, whiny, suffering men!
This is somthing I cannot change about myself.
No doubt I will probably end up throwing the old guy down the basement stairs or putting rat poision in his chicken soup.
Good god!Try to imagine babysitting your old man!

"I am at a stage of life where i've experienced enough to know that i know almost nothing except that I've experienced almost nothing."-kopikia

Graduating Highschool was the cure for my teenage angst; those trivial matters that once made me want to hurtle myself over a cliff have for the most part, dissolved to nothing. I don't worry so much about what kind of sneakers or fuzzy sweatbands will define me as a person. I don't add up everyone of my mistakes and miscalculations as an exponential expression ultimatly defining my complete incompetance.(big.. words.. gasp-wheeze...). I don't think I'm stupid anymore just because I CAN NOT play volleyball, and purposely did not try to get good grades in school. I don't have to worry about a reputation, having people think I'm anything at all, whether it be a cool weird kid, an artist, an imaginative or intelligent individual. I also feel better now that I have nobody to measure myself against, no models to follow, or anyone to look up to or down on. Being a hermit has its benefits.
I think things are getting better for me, the stuff that bothers me not bothering me so much anymore....
I've felt blind of my own identity and now finally feel like I'm really getting to know who the hell I really am. Cause as you all know, I'm not doing much now but playing videogames, and bumming about town with my boyfriend. Yeah I'm lazy. But I've had so much time to think about what went so horribly wrong in Highschool and what the fuck I can do to not beat up on myself in the future. I have so much time to sit and think about myself, the "hows" and "whys" and the "WTFs". I decided that my mind and my emotions are so intricately flawed (fucked up), that it will take some time to tear out all the seams, and unravel all that junk and fix it again. Kind of like equipping and re-equipping materia... or somthing like that. Jeeze I went into this depressed and wanting to tell you about it but I just can't concentrate...
I remember feeling so desperately sad from being lost and blind of who or what I am, and sad because I could hardly relate to anyone, that I wished for a mirror for my soul, to remember what it looks like.
Thanks to you I'm learning how to speak my emotions in almost coherent complete sentences, and now I am becoming less fearful of my arch enemy Pretentiousness, as Truth finally fuckin comes out! I can finally think about and say what I'm feeling even though it still takes a behemoth amount of effort. I thank you for putting up with my selfishness. I have learned more about myself and who I am through you in only 6 months, than I have ever learned from myself.
Anyway life for me is not completely "wooo! shiny!".
Tonight it hit me this very sad feeling I've been repressing for some long time.. I feel it now as I'm thinking what to type here..
I just feel like my other half is torn from me, my real other half. The one who knows what "duhsign" is, the one who knows the joy it brings to your heart to kick a dog across the room.

It's Friday night and I'm not trying to get spiffied up for a school dance or walking down to Jimmy's to hang out. I'm not pretending to be plotting some anarchist plan, I'm not drawing either. It's my own fault for feeling dead, I forgot myself.
I'm just lonely for my friends, when I see you again please don't make me feel like a stranger I'll slit my wrists.

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Coffee flavored yogurt tastes like coffee flavored vomit.

Hah, I'm sitting writing this while you shmucks are in school. I feel empathy for you though. So thats why I'm spending my days cleaning the house, so I can share in the feeling of having to go through redundant torture. I'm also looking for jobs now, because I feel like I have to hate my life like the rest of the world. Take some time today to remember me while your half asleep in math class, and I will take some time to think of you while I sweep mouse turds off the back porch.

stop the insanity! as Susan Powder used to say (way before your time you dirty shmucks).
Look here I hate always being a downer and smearing shitty stuff on my blog all the time but I wanna know what the fuck is making everyone nuts these days, what is going on!? I get pretty worried when I hear that bad stuff is happining to the people closest to me from a secondary or tertiary source, such as a supid blog post. I would try to ask and to be there and be a fluffy good friend like magazine articles tell me to. But I don't wanna upset anybody by prying into shit, I don't wanna upset myself either cause I'm a hypersensitive jerk. I guess saying I'm upset on my blog isn't any better then the cryptic and evil stuff you post on your blogs. But I just gotta let you know that I care about my friends even if they don't give a shit about me, I like to see you all well, I like to see you happy. I care even though I'm a douchebag who doesn't show it very well.

An Anecdote Describing the Shining Intelligence and Acute Perceptiveness of Naya:
Today I went to the house of my dear friend Christa. She offered me a sub for lunch. "Oink moo, I love me some turkey sub," I thought to myself. And it just so happend there were three subs in the fridge. "Hooray" I thought to myself, "so much lovely, lovely food!"
I grabbed a sub and unrapped it greedily, "oh jesus," I whimpered after a split second observation--it was ham. I wrapped the sub back up and picked up the second sub, I unrapped the second sub and it too was ham and olives and parmesan cheese. I cursed under my breath, "GODDAMNIT!" and then proceeded wrapping number two back up, putting it in the fridge and pulling sub number three. I unwrapped this sub hoping the third time's the charm and behold, this sub was also ham. I was distraught. There is nothing I would rather eat at this moment than a good old fashoned turkey sub with tomato, lettuce, and mayo.
I cried out in famished agony, "THE SUBS THEY ARE ALL HAM!". And I was replied by Christa's cantankerous father, "No they're turkey,".
I was confused, "What is it, smoked turkey?"
"Nope it's good ol' plain turkey." Linda honked with enthusiastic confirmation.
I had at that moment entered the Twilight Zone-- I had the biggest lapse in judgement I have ever had. For you see, I had opened all three subs, and they were all ham, I hadn't examined them very close but the meat I had a glimpse of was that familiar pink color marbled with fat. How could have I had been convinced that the subs were turkey. How could my mind be so dulled by the monotony that is my life, that I would have to turn around again, open the fridge and rexamine the subs one by one? ...Unwrapping and wrapping, opening and closing the refrigerator door...
I suppose I thought it was smoked turkey. I had to check to see if it was, because smoked turkey is better than no turkey at all, though I hate smoked turkey.
Sub one was still ham, and the funny thing was I knew that it was ham all along.
And the sillyness progresses; because I still felt the need to open the other two though they looked the same as the first. They were still ham and they still had gross things like black olives and parmesan. My head is a big black hole.

I've gotta say all this drug stuff is wrong. I quit that stuff because it upsets people I care about who have genuine concern for me and my happiness, it did not make me happy, I could not do enough to label me a stoner or elevate my status as a no-status social outcast. I couldn't be famed for drug use, was not a supplier or seller of it, so why keep up with it all? I know that if I kept on going I would become so miserable I probably would have had some sort of mental breakdown or I would be miserable because I made the people I love miserable by lying to them, saying I wouldn't do it anymore when I would. It wasn't worth the short time of feeling good, when I got so depressed after..I have the munchies constantly anyway. Drug use as I see it is a product of the constant want of a label or some kind of social-staus. Drug use is buying a label in a plastic baggie full of weed or in a pill bottle. People know you use drugs, you are a stoner, or seen as somthing as a god when you can take as much as you can. Drugs will get you somewhere when all other methods of achieving a lable have failed. I thought that I might seem cooler if people knew I did stuff, well the certainly were surprised. I admit I wanted to be somthing I wasn't or couldn't be. That isn't the only reason I tried stuff don't get me wrong, I wanted to experiment, learn me somthin from the experience. I learned a lot. I don't want to be one of those people who say they are gonna quit one day but smoke a day or two later. I don't want to say I'm gonna quit for a month just for a drug test. I'm not saying I know any dependants but I think I could in the near future. I don't want to see my friends like that, bad enough my family is. As I see it drug use is a sign of having a shitty family or living in a shitty society, I'm not saying that people who drug in general are shitheads. I just want people to stop pretending that nobody cares about them, open your fucking eyes... This rant isn't nearly as deep as I want it to be, it sounds like a handout you'd be given in elementary school drug education class...or a lecture from your daddy. But I gotta say pot, alcohol whatever is a soma (just wait until you read Brave New World) making drooling idiots instead of strong men and women who can face up to their problems without running away. I understand circumstances beyond control.... Don't call me insensitive... well whatever I'm sick of seeing this stupid rant.

I'm tired of myself again hooray.
I want to be sparkling white, I want to be the green eyed goddess. I want to be the polished and sanded bits of glass that wash up on the beach at sunset, I want to be the angel in that painting, I want to be that sketch of a solitary rose I want to be the pretty lady with the pretty hair, I want to be the aluminum siren, I want to be the mother of silly bean bag animals, I want to be a stupid 16 year old girl, a voice from across the horizon, a swedish sex kitten..

I want to throw away these words/phrases from my vocabulary:
-nothing
-forever
-always
-the phrase: "greatest and/or most awesome thing in the world"
-huh?
-stupid
-douche bag
-trying
-well...
-I don't know
-I can't say
-sorry
-I wont do it again
-I'm just kidding
-I wasn't lying
-are you alright?
-I just don't know what to say
-horrible
-I don't understand
-what?

Hullo to everyone, I'm not ded.
Guess what? Emergency Room trip #4 yesterday.
Cause my poor Brians jaw is swollen up big, like yo mommas ass, and it hurts like a bitch. Brian is a good man, he doesn't complain about shit.
This time we got the goods, kind of I guess, that pill with the fancy name Vicodin. Hah...you know..that one.
There was this big fat, trailer-white trash woman in the bed next to Brain at the hospital, she went *poooot* "oops I just farted heh heh". Her son went "I did too, heh heh." Her son kept talking somthing about how his girlfriend was pregnant or somthing and the baby wasn't forming right so they needed somthing to (and I quote) "stick somthing in her kootchie and suck it out."
I gagged. Brian wonders if he heard correctly.
But the problem wasn't sucking somthing out of a girls kootch. It was the big fat momma. She had an oozing wound that "poured water". She says it just "runs down my legs and into my socks, it gets my pants so wet I can wring them out."
I gag, gag, gag, again. Brian gags too. We're glad we have a curtain separating us from them.
In the bed left of us was this little 4 year old kid who fell 10-15 feet out of a window. He was pushing on a screen on his window and he fell out, he smacked his head on the ledge of a bay window and hit the ground.
I'm guessing that kid was fine cause he was laughing and jumping on the bed and stuff. Its so cute when little kids cuss!
kid:"ha haa shit"
momma: what did you say?
kid: nothin heh heh
I offered to play doctor with Brian. He didn't think that was appropriate hospital conduct. heh heh
Life is a big bowl of cherries, I'm happy, seems everyone else is too. At least it seems like no one has a reason to be unhappy, but realistically I suppose that is never the case. I kinda feel like I'm being left out of all your fancy fun. But I know that its my fault for not getting out more. I know I can pick up the phone and call you but hey.. you have a phone too, communicatinon works two ways, so does friendship.
--Helpful Hint: CALL ME SOMETIMES.
sometime soon. Don't forget I love you all, okay?

Is it really possible that a completly alien mode of thinking exists in the minds of humans? Is there somthing beyond everything we are taught in school, by our parents, by society, by our instincts. I want to know if this mode exists, I want to be able to grasp it.
This way of thinking has been sketched out very vaguely in my head. A couple of months ago I was kept awake by a series of dreams about metal pipes, and floating words. I was very depressed during this time, and felt that my life was slipping into this very redundantly lonely trench. I woke up every morning trying to fit the word aluminum into a poem. I felt like my imagineation was trying to overthrow my conciousness.
--and how does this reate to what I'll say next?---well, I suppose it doesn't--
--Maybe just thinking that what I know is very mysterious and there is more to think abou in life than the usual.
People only think about as much as they are taught to think about. We would look at a bulding and never think to count how many windows there were. We would just know that there are many windows. But a person who excercises their mind would take a mental picture of the building and count the windows, and I'm told after a while you would be able to develop the ability to KNOW how many things there are without counting. For example you would look at the window and in a second know there are 132 windows, 8 birds on the telephone wire, 12 lamp posts, 54 dandelions on the lawn.
What I'm talking about is increasing the capacity of your brain to just know.

Think about it, how many number patterns are we conditioned to learn in our lives, maybe 1-10. Watching Sesame Street as a kid I was taught what 3 objects looked like, what 5, 6, 8 objects looked like.
I don't consider my brain very strong, I can't recognize what more than 4 objects in a straight row look like, often when I see five I think "four".
I hear that thinking in a way which increases the amount of objects you recognize will make everything in your life seem like a numerical problem that can be solved with math.
..And how does this all relate to thinking in this very completly foreign way?
--well I forgot what the hell I'm trying to say, its all messed up---
But I suppose it means excercising the mind much more than any average person, believing that there is somthing out there more to be known somthing that trancends emperical and abstract concepts. I'm crazy..don't mind me...

The ultimate perfection of life is misery.
Have you ever seen somthing so horrible, but strangely alluring you can't stop looking at it.
HAve you picked a scab?
I'm facinated with emotional disorder, I'm facinated with depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder. I like to talk to people to try to comfort them, though they will always forget what you have done for them the next time they have an emotional crisis.

Misery is always possible, it can always be elevated, aggrivated, and can spread from person to person.
A tangled web of conciousness, thinking things they cannot understand, things that scare them.

hah...just like me, you still live at home with your parents and you tell me how it's gonna be when I get out into the "real world".
Good God...

My days are wrecked with inconvenience.
Its nothing more isolating than anything else I experience everyday.
I feel like I'm losing more of myself...
I wish you were here.
See you soon!

Today, when I was walking downtown, I saw Sean Springer with an unusually vulnerable expression on his face. For every one man released from captivity how many more are imprisioned?
Then in another instance and another person,well--
Its funny how the slightest facial expression can be more revealing, more disturbing than some actions are. Looking at me that way, was watching someone swerve to hit a housecat crossing the street. You killed a kitty cat in my heart. Have you ever been shocked by the betrayal in a glance? Are you fooled when your friends conceal their feelings under a smile?
Have you ever seen somthing so horrible you have to see it again and again? Have you ever felt concern however frivolous for a stranger that just passes you by?
I'm obsessed, I'm haunted..

I'm disgusted with my lifestyle, I have to build some structure around myself to keep out all the pervasive junk that molds on my intellect like fungi on a shower wall. I feel like my soul is starving to death, in school when I was "participating" in gym class wiffle-ball I noticed how very thin I am. I felt like an ethiopian child standing in the outfield, I was surrounded by well-fed pink and porky american children.
Isolation is my diet of dust and seeds, it is my fault I am so individual, not laughing and energetic like happy, happy, Bethany, not pretty and popular Sarah, or Tai. Society hasn't left anything for me to build me up, I have no sports to keep me moving and not thinking, no church group to keep me a blind slave to treasure in heaven, no mediocre job to make me hard working and responsible. Society owes me nothing, I owe nothing to it in return. I need to save my own self, how?
I saw Rosemary Wells on my walk to the place where I live. She said it was a nice day. I saw a dead chipmunks with flies on it. It smelled bad. What a crazy day. I love you.

Trying to cram an elephant in a tin can is like trying to get all this stuff done so I can graduate highschool. I have so much work to do, it is frustrating, I cannot for the life of me...concentrate. I don't really care about not graduating...I'm crazy you see, but I don't want to be called a failure, failure failure failure, ooh. They are all gonna get so mad at me for not graduating. I'm too stupid to do this right now. All I can think about nowdays is that I'm too stupid to get all this work done. Complaining about this shit consumes most all of my time. I cant concentrate on anyone, or anything. Just try to talk to me you see how incoherant I am. I'm just so tired, so lost.
I can't write anymore, I just don't know how I feel about stuff.
This is so confusing, I'm glad at least I have some very splendid friends that at least try to comfort my obseqious anxiety.

I don't read blogs anymore

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Hah, I'm not in squell today and you are!

I just got a call from Bruce Castor, Republican Candidate for Pennsylvania Attorney General.
He would like to tell us that he believes in the death penalty, our 2nd amendment rights (right to bear arms) traditional marrage and the sanctity of life (pro-life).
Now, how the hell can you believe in the death penalty AND the "sanctity of life"?
GOD DAMN YOU CONSERVATIVE REPUBLICANS! STOP CALLING ME!


DOWN WITH THE BUSH EMPIRE!

IMPEACH BUSH!
and kill lots of fetuses!

Its depressing, the most important writers in english literature were men. I hate having to write stupid reports about little rich boys, who had their daddies pay for Oxford or Cambridge or wherever, who kissed up to the queen and everything they fucking said was poetic, artistic and insightful. Those knowledgable men who wrote in the language of common man. Oh those men who have said thoughts in ways nobody has. I pee my pants with excitement. They all grew to be cantankerous old men who loved religion and wrote poems of forgotten grecian gods.

If you could fight any celebrity, who would you fight?

If you could fight any historical figure,dead or alive, who would that be?

Who would you fight if you could fight any person in the world?

I've just looked into people too deeply. I just thought to myself that teenager are all extremely shallow people, there is no way around it. They have shallow intents, shallow meathods, shallow reason. I'm shallow. I scream "hey, everybody love me". Everybody screams "everybody fuck me," "I need so much more money, to be the Fuck I want to be." But I just looked to deeply into everyone just like I expected there to be more. I'm pretty dumb, I don't understand things the way other people do. I thought that maybe you had a kinder, braver, more noble heart. I thought that you were so much more audacious, real, braver more admirably uncaring of the criticism of others. I thought maybe your self-proclaimed love was constructed of more solid things than sex and always being just together. But I'm not being critical, I'm just voicing my horrible dissillusionment that I've carried with me for a while now. I know people aren't what they seem, I know they aren't what I expect, but why can't we all just try to be better people.
Someone please, please, take me out behind the old red barn and shoot me, 'cause a pathetic creature like me, clinging desperately on to my holy self-fucking-righteous innocence has no practical use. Please discard me like an out-of-date epson inkjet printer, chuck me out the window. I've outlived my usefulness.

Angry Young Man
Billy Joel

There's a place in the world for the angry young man
With his working class ties and his radical plans
He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl
and he's always at home with his back to the wall.
He's proud of the scars and the battles he's lost
He struggles and bleeds as he hangs on the cross
And he likes to be known as the angry young man.

Give a moment or two to the angry young man
With his foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand
He's been stabbed in the back, he's been misunderstood
It's a comfort to know his intentions are good
He sits in a room with a lock on the door
with his maps and his medals laid out of the floor
And he likes to be known as the angry young man.

I believe I've passed the age of consciousness and righteous rage,
I've found that just surviving was a noble fight
I once believed in causes too, had my pointless point of view
Life went on no matter who was right or wrong.

And there's always a place for the angry young man
With his fist in the air and his head in the sand
He's never been able to learn from mistakes
He can't understand why his heart always breaks
His honor is pure, and his courage as well
he's fair and he's true, and he's boring as hell
And he'll go to his grave as an angry old man.

There's a place in the world for the angry young man
With his working class ties and his radical plans
He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl
and he's always at home with his back to the wall.
He's proud of the scars and the battles he's lost
He struggles and bleeds as he hangs on the cross
And he likes to be known as the angry young man.

Always present is this horrible lonliness, like somthing in me just crawled under a rock and died. I feel like I'll never understand anyone but myself, I'll never feel comfortable just being with people. I'm always thinking look at how far he got in so little time. Look how she can just start a conversation with just anyone. I wonder at the relationships, the communications of everyone. Why can't I do that? I want to contribute to the happiness of others, I want to say what you say in my own way. I'm incapable...just incompetent of getting along with people. I pity myself though I hate pity.

Title: The Fading

Subtitle:
"I Hope my Crappy Poetry Streak
Fades Before I REALLY Embarass Myself"
by Naya

Bow my head
and my eyes away
from the plastic sky
and the light of day
What I felt
was bitter strong
spent to long
in fluorecent sun
Wish I knew
what I meant
could I
justify
the time I've spent?
searching for
a face
a living moment
images in clouds
precious intents
glaring down
laughing
laughing at me
at my loving
laughing at my nothing
the skies fade
fade away
it fades away
it all just fades away

Good lord, my poetic and artistic skills have turned to dust. Hwagg... and when It comes to my common sense... well I just haven't seen that bitch for some long time.
I just discovered that I lead a completely aimless existance. I can't deny it, I've just up and lost my head. Sayonara!
Good night, sweet prince and may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Honestly this is the absolute epitomy of retardspeak but it is so amusing to read this out loud:
AWRIATE SAO TIAMMY TAOKK mea hias goalf coause thais teime and i aws soo happay thean rayachel came aout waich ways HOTT baut thean...earin came aout. ia hate thaaata fauaking baitch. awhy thae fauck doeas tiamy loaik hear soo mauxch??? it ahonesatly kaills mea. i loave him asooo muach. anad mea awnd earin eacutaly hased asomething goaing on lasa;t year buat thais yeasr we adoant eavaen talk and ai caasnta staeand hur!!!.

ah haa haa... this kills me.

I bet I find myself thinking about you, at least 10 times today.
Not a lot considering the amount of thoughts I have in a day.
But certainly more than I'd think about anyone else.
This is nice, very nice.

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Your match with christa you are 55% similar you are 77% complementary

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Launching bottle rockets out of a doll's ass... I thought I grew out of being compelled to do stuff like that but doing it makes me want to do it more. Simple minds, simple pleasures ey?

I think it would do me good somtimes to have someone call me an idiot.
I need a mirror for my soul so I can see who I think I am, because I'm stumbling in the dark *yawn* cliche cliche...
I'm perplexed, I don't even know if I hate myself of love myself.
I'm blind, and the only vision I have is what I think I might be someday, but I don't know if I'm near or far from it.
I wonder if it is narcissistic to look into one's head, as it is to always look into a mirror.

Hooray! They found my purse at the parish center. I'm glad some dirty shmuck didn't steal it.

I am 45% Tortured Artist

I have some artistic ability, but it is probably a hobby and doesn't drive my life into a dark abysmal hole where I am alone and against the world.

Take the Tortured Artist Test at fuali.com

I hope I sleep and dream where I'm about walking over the hills during the prime of fall when the leaves are insanely gold and blood red. Then in this dream, I'll find myself to be 20 pounds lighter and much skinnier and I'm dressed in white, I'll fall into a pool of the clearest spring water and lie there staring at the bottom. The pool will have sunset pink flowers nuzzling the sandy floor I watch them dance and feel so very happy. I'll roll onto my back and watch the whipped cream clouds float by. I'll sink under the water and I'll watch the sunlight dance on its surface until I go blind. I'll find myself on the forest floor again, lying on a bead of leaves. The sunlight will dry my skin and make me feel warm again. Then snow white feahters will fall from he sky, blown free in the wind from the giant feather trees. Tiny, fat bluebirds will hop and sing in the feather trees, and fly down to peck at my fingers. I'll stand and walk westward toward the building. The abandoned cement structure 50 stories high. There will be many rusty pipes there and steel beams sticking out from the walls. An iron staircase leads to the very top of this structure, to the gaping hole in the roof where rain pours in, but there is no rain on this day. A blue sky can be seen peeking in. I'll climb up these stairs, there will be a robot there. This robot is made of an iridescent silvery beetle shell. It is not an obnoxious robot made to copy and manufacture and distroy. It just exisists to exisist. I climb to the top and out onto the roof, there is bliss there, there is no one, nothing animate, only vines and flowers. I look over the edge to see a swamp spreading out in all directions, I hear the faint chirping of spring peepers. It is sunset now. I wander back home, throught the lush forests, over the water, my feet won't touch the ground. Is my love at home yet?
Do I care? I sleep. I wake.
That's the dream I want to have.

You are blessed with FAERY wings. Beauty,
laughter, life, magic...that's what you are all
about. You are refreshingly innocent and happy
with your life of purity and play. Life's a
game and it's a good one. In your eyes there's
no way to lose! You can be very mischeivous and
have been known to cause trouble, but it's all
in the name of fun and not meant to really harm
anyone. You like to play tricks on people who
aren't quite as bright or clever as you - which
is almost everyone. Nature is the setting you
prefer to be in - Always. Barefoot and wild you
can't be tamed. You're probably a restless
spirit who loves to travel, and quite a
dreamer. Your creativity is astounding and your
art (of whatever media - from writing to
painting to drama) is like something from
another world - ethereal and often very
fantasy-oriented. You can either be a social
butterfly or a loner with their head in the
clouds - but rarely inbetween. You stubbornly
refuse to accept responsibility or to give in
to the wishes of others - unless you feel like
it. You have a strong passion for music and
can't imagine life without it. You'll grow up
someday, but you'll always be a child at heart.
You are adventurous and love to take risks, and
feel a deep connection with the weather,
plants, and animals. You prefer sunshine to
thunder or snow, the warmth of summer to
autumn's chill, and quiet forests to suburban
backyards. Magic through and through, you are
far more powerful than you seem, and are
capable of being extremely passionate. Though
you can be childish, naive, stubborn, and
self-absorbed, one thing is certain - life with
you will never be boring!


*~*~*Claim Your Wings - Pics and Long Answers*~*~*
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finally .. someone normal !! lol your awesome


How insane are you?
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Dear Jesus, I'm playing Pogs.

Don't not take the medication?!?
I really want to know if the pills are good or bad.
I feel rather moderate about them, but knowing that I might have to take them someday I really want to more about them.
I do know that it would be wrong to walk into a normal medical doctor's office say "I'm feeling a little down" and get a bunch of what we call "happy pills" or antidepressants. First of all, it isn't at all right that a medical doctor should just write a perscription without the consent of some mental health practitioner. Second of all it is completely wrong that a doctor or anyone should give a pill to make it all magically just all so much easier. A little pill to make up for the apathy of a society. When what they really need is to do is help a person through hard times, or help them find couseling, or just be their friend. But depression is a real disease and pills might just be neccissary. Medication makes it easier for a person to just live with themselves, have the energy to at least be able to do what they really want to do. It could help treat an imbalance that made life confusing, unbearable, or difficult. Of course there are side effects but there is to everything we experience in life. I just don't know.
Is this the way it is "here's your damned pill, hand over the money and you can be fucking happy with your mediocre life"?
Is this the way it is "this treatment won't exactly make the world a bright and shiny place but it will help you to try and be happy, to be able to feel like doing what you feel you need to do"?
Depression is hard enough, how can people feel confident about making a decison on their own treatment.
It doesn't make it any easier when people don't understand. They will tell you to "just smile" and to "just have some fun".
I hear that telling a depressed person to be happy is like telling an insomniac to get more sleep. Indeed. I certainly believe that. While it is sort of comforting to see your friends concerned it is also rather disheatening to have them notice you are sad and kind of single you out. Sometimes people just need time to think about things, time to be sad, time to be alone. But it is also important to be their for your friend and try to understand. Its not easy, fuck no, not at all. Its a very delicate situation sometimes and it sucks when people run their mouths about things they don't know. But I always feel that it is rewarding to have patience.

The pressures of this world crushing us, invisible burdens of mythril or whatever you would call imaginary substance of legendary strength. Life is pointless, it is meaningless. I know, I can see great piles of everything obscuring a panorama of nothing and nothing. Like pictures of adorable cut outs of a teenage girls boyfriends on her wall. Useless piled on nothing. But it makes her happy. Television, books, clothing, computers, religion mass diversion, medication, drugs, people, anything of mass or substance or ideas tangible and untangible they make us happy or angry or whatever. Our splendid soma. What does it matter if we live or die? Is death worse than walking around manipulating objects, our pencils with our fingers, our feet to touch the ground, our minds around our problems? Could death be a lack of ability to manipulate our minds and bodies, what if we gain somthing else we cannot even comprehend as we exist now as mind and body? What if we just stop? I can't remember the time before I was born. I do know that I have this instinct that I should be alive. I know how it is to be alive, what "living" means. Look at through the eyes of a computer or a rock. They do not move or manipulate in any concious manner, there is no intelligence in their way. What it is to be alive is to make and do more than what is not intelligent, concious or unable to move grow or reproduce. Living is moving, running, standing, making, doing, reproducing, thinking, writing, creating, distroying, killing, hating, loving. The people of the world have us think that living is one thing, living for god, living for others, living for to getting married getting a good job having children and dying. Well it is just not one thing or another, not to me. Living in a system is like living like a computer somthing inanimate, programmed to do everything it does, like people are programmed by society what to do. I do not want to live like an animal, they have their instincts that make them follow their own determined path. I'm a human I have a will perhaps not totally free of instinct or programming but I can very well make decisions that natures zombies couldn't make. I am full of so many endless possiblities. I'm told I hold so much "potential" and when I find out what the hell that is supposed to mean and for what I'll be alive. Because now I feel so dead, sitting and typing, having people talk down to me all the time, not knowing how to manipulate my clumsy limbs and my clouded mind. When I say "things are gonna get better" I mean that I feel like I'm gonna be resurrected to life, to be what I know I can be, what everybody else is and more importantly what nobody is.
I love ranting like a crazy man, but I dunno how to explain just how much I cherish being alive, and life, and how shitty I feel when I am confused about what sort of path I should blaze and when I see other people denying themselves their lives and happiness.
Ha.. I'm silly.

From now on I'll be adding pictures to my blog.


A creation that I am most proud of!

"Do you go to the dungeon, to find out how to make peace with your days in the dungeon?
Writing a letter to you didn't make me feel any more useful than when we weren't speaking."
Look at me! I'm an emo kid posting lyrics on my blog...

You must be pretty peeved right now then, eh?

What pisses you off?

Created by ptocheia

I feel pretty darn good.
And I know that because I don't feel like writing "oh woe is me" or "you stupid capitalist pigs" or "I am teh suck" blog entries.
I feel pretty good because I'm making new friends and making better friends with the ones I already have.

I really like sunshine. I love the colors it makes. It makes yellow, peach and gold clouds in the morning, white puffy clouds in the afternoon and red, pink and purple in the evening. I love the sunlight in the late afternoon when im standing in the middle of the street downtown and all the bulidings are left in the shadows but the hills and houses up the street are still illuminated in gold. I like the way the sunlight glows red on the sides of the houses at sunset. I love to look out Christa's kitchen door and watch the way the light from the hills run into the clouds and fade away. I loved to sit on Jimmy's porch in the fall and see the neighborhood, the hills and the clouds drenched in gold and red. I don't think that anyone has really taken the time to observe how perticularly beautiful the light lies on the hills surrounding the high school. In the fall, during gym class I stood in the football field and almost cried at how beautiful the light looked reflecting off the mists burning off the hills.
I love how sunlight burns the skin. I love how it is always warm and even on the coldest days one can stand in front of the window and absorb the heat. I even sleep at the opposite side of the bed so I can look right out of the window and see light before I go to sleep or when I wake up.

God, my blog is so amusing...

"--cut cut cut...
hating every day
and growing insane
a rush to hide your wakeining pain
to obscure the scars that "healed in time"
somthing warm makes you remember you are alive"
----------
probably don't remember that poem I wrote, Its about cutting yourself to feel better.
I never cut myself so really I wouldn't know but I know plenty of people who have.
Anyway, I think I'll equate cutting with internet romance.
Cutting is just somthing useless, and counterproductive. It doesn't really make you feel better.
Internet romance is useless, counterproductive and after all is said and done doesn't make you feel better.
But I don't want to get myself misunderstood again.
Like back in the darkages I compaired my romance with a certain someone to a t-shirt I had outgrown. He thought I meant him. It is so stupid to sit in front of a screen all "snufflywufflykins"
Sigh, but me and my stupid defective short term memory went back and fell again....
and again...
and again....
and fuck...
I never fucking learn.
I only ever told the truth. I always really did feel what I said I did.
Except when it came to saying what it is like, realistically to be in a relationship like this. Its twisted reality in conveinent little box. It's a chocolate egg with no cadburry cream. A promise of a sweet little treat. All words and no SEX!! No hugs, no hand holding, no pleasure of you just being there.
Ah haa haa... Somthing that is really silly to think of considering that I'd been doing this since I was about 14. Stupid bitch(bitch being me). It sucks and its so very bad for my mental health.
It just sucked so bad, It still sucks.
I felt like you just up and left me and took my faith and my voice along with you. One of the few people I could just sit down and, I could just compose my thoughts and I could talk..argh..
So, my computer time is reserved for friends and writing my Hamlet essay only. I suppose I could only speculate if you would still want to be my friend, I'll leave that up to you.
But anyway...what I guess I'm saying through this is that I'm stupid and I've been though this a million times, I'm a coward and I chase my tail in a spiral, down and down. I'm done talking about it.

It's fucking crazy..
I need to be a better person. Set a better example for the people around me. I have a sister and friends, and I feel like somehow I'm dragging them all down. I run in circles, I'm a hipocrite. I keep on doing what I know is wrong. I havn't been supportive enough. I just know I can do more but Its so much my habit to say the wrong thing, to put everything off until its too late, and to hide all of my fear. I hate myself, I hate that I don't change when I know I can.

I am 69% Evil Genius

Evil courses through my blood. Lies and deceit motivate my evil deeds. Crushing the weaklings and idiots that do nothing but interfere in my doings.

Take the Evil Genius Test at fuali.com

Why do I have to be so damned critical of everything all the time? Oh look at me now, being critical of me being critcal. And now being critical of me being critical of me being critical of.......
awww fuck..

I was gonna write somthing completely different frome what I am now but I just saw somthing that just made me sick. There was this blog called "HOT ABERCROMBIE CHICK". That makes me sick. Its so sad when people had over their identity to corporate labels.
I'm pretty sick of Abercrombie too. Their clothes really aren't that great, they are assembled in a sweatshop in a third-world country, overpriced and marketed shamlessly to spoiled rich kids. Well just like everything else the USA. The world is fucked...everything is fucked!

I had a dream last night that I was crawling through a bramble bush with my friend and suddenly lost all control of my sense of direction. I got so confused and disorented I couldn't crawl backwards out of the dead end. I was so blind I just rolled over and squirmed like a worm and watched the sky and earth spin all around. There were people there that wanted to help me find my way out but I was haveing a seizure, I was in a trance. Someone tried to cut a branch loose so I could see the people trying to help me and I could see them. But the branch landed on my head and it hurt so fucking bad and it didn't help at all. I would just sit there forever and my friend would be trapped with me, it would be my fault, I lead her into danger, and we would both die.

I wonder why the chewing gum producers fail to mention that gum base is food grade plastic. Synthetically altered reisens derived from natural sources. Plastic. I like the idea of chewing on plastic, I like plastic erasers, and the grips and nubs from mehanical pencils. They are more satisfying to chew on than gum sometimes. When I think of my gum being polymer, I feel happier about chewing it.

I just thought:
What I need now is comfort, some gentle persuasion, a hug, a voice of an angel whispering in my ear to give me confidence and tell me everything is okay and that I'm wonderful. Yes, a perpetual angel whispering to me....
But how long could I trust a voice like that. How could I trust somthing that always chants, "you are precious, you are beautiful, brilliant, good....."
When I am lazy, and weak, fearful and an absolute good for nothing. My life has very little value as contributing to society is concerned. How could I trust somthing that would tell me I'm good when I know that I'm really not such an admirable person.
And then I saw myself:
I know this experience inside-out. I'm an angel, or was one, ... Not as heaven or that shit is concerned, but when I whispered my loving chants to him. A voice of a fucking fuzzy spirited idealist, an optimistic Disney Princess.
I always believed in him. And he believes that he is worthless. He didn't believe me after a while just as I know I would stop believing if a voice like that spoke to me. That crazy man who screams that this voice in his head was too good of company for him.
Goddamnit....
were I a fucking demon, I would always be with you...
-------------------
( no more internet romance for me!! AH HAA HAA)

Who questions of how and what I do,
by conducting experiments both kind and cruel?
Picking what I sing for as the best
I know the pains and benefits of this test.

We live in America. I was told from elementary school that this is the best country to live in.
And when I was a kid I could believe it. We are fed at least three blanced meals a day with snacks most times. The president is the smartest guy in the world because he rules our wonderful country. The army protects the USA in case of invaders. We will always be safe and cared for in the good ol USA. Sleep well at night.
Well we live in a wonderful country, I always can feed myself, I can go buy stupid shit at Hot Topic, I sleep in a warm house, in a warm bed, in a safe little town tucked far away in the hills. I have some family that loves me, a little pet cat, all the computer time I could ever want. Videogames, Television, Movies, CD's, makeup, magazines, books, posters. More than my mother had, more than my mother's mother, both combined.
So.. If I live in the land of plenty, the land of opportunity,
I reasonably have nothing to be sad about.
But why do I cry like a child every fucking night? I'm just a fucking EMO kid right. Crying cause my daddy took the keys away from my brand new SUV. Well.. WELL? I'm ungrateful and lazy, my mother hints when I tell her I am tired. I'm told I don't know what tired is. Tired is working my ass off in a stuffy basement and came home and making dinner and doing dishes for my family. ....That is true I know....
I'm not tired..not in the way you thought... or maybe I am ungrateful, lazy, sad fucking EMO kid...

I cry from lonliness, despair, remorse, self-loathing, hoplessness, fear, and pain. Every emotion that everyone fears. I fear it especially, but not so much that I fear to express it. Which makes me feel set much apart from everyone else.

I keep thinking that everyone fears to express themselves, even just a little bit. When you vent your grief you say I'm such a fucking emo kid. No. Those are perfectly valid feelings. Its so stupid to say they really have not emotional merit.
Its stupid for eveyone I know to repress themselves from what they feel.

I can't quite describe this thought I have its so clear it has so much meaning to me.....
This fucking land of substance, objects, image.....fucking america....it's fucking people....
What good is this country if people deny the pain of the world, of themselves and go shopping and watch TV....
Where is the emotion, where is the heart?
What I'm trying to say through all of this is that feeling somthing isn't wrong. Expressing it isn't wrong (within reason). Without expressing emotion you will grow to be fearful of it. "Just smile" everyone says. I know they mean well but a fake smile won't do. Only if I tell you will I somehow feel better. Fuck.. I can't find the words to explain... I hope that somehow you try to understand what I mean.
Emotion is ugly. People don't want to hear what they fear.
Appearances are deciving yet much more comfortable.
A plastic smile on a happy meal toy..

I'm not being critical. I do not know these answers. They are just questions.
Is society trying to standardize us as human products. Medicate us. Supress us. Council, press their ideals into us.
Destroy us when we don't conform emotionally, intellectually, and financially? Toss us away when us, the gears and cogs of the machine of capitalism break down, become useless? Or are we failing because we ARE crazy?
Is it both?
Is society better than it was before? Are our lives really worth much more than in the past? Are our living conditions better, are we not well fed, fat, satiated, intoxicated? Is society, the government, the scientists, the doctors really devoted to make things better, heal us, or are they just trying to numb us, lie to us, cover up our pains? Are they trying to help us be able to motivate us keep us going? Are they really trying to be good to us?

Who is society? Who is us? Who are the Government, the scientists, the doctors the preachers, the institutions? Why?

Burden In My Hand Soundgarden

I shot my love today would cry for me
I lost my head again would you lie for me
I left her in the sand just a burden in my hand
I lost my head again would you cry for me

Follow me into the desert
As thirsty as you are
Crack a smile and cut your mouth
And drown in alcohol
Course down below the truth is lying
Beneath the riverbed
So quench yourself and drink the water
That flows below her head

Oh no there she goes
Out in the sunshine the sun is mine

I shot my love today would cry for me
I lost my head again would you lie for me
I left her in the sand just a burden in my hand
I lost my head again would you cry for me

Close your eyes and bow your head
I need a little simpathy
Cause fear is strong and love's for everyone
Who isn't me
So kill your health and kill yourself
And kill everything you love
And if you live you can fall to pieces
And suffer with my ghost
Just a burden in my hand
Just an anchor on my heart
Just a tumor in my head
And I'm in the dark

I have this silly idea that somehow, there is this single golden thread of goodness in the universe. This is the law of the universe that there must always be goodness in the world, I do not mean God, or glory or heaven. I mean there is this balance of goodness in the world, thats unavoidable. It creates miracles, generates luck, allows us to live and see and love people and things and is the light in a universe full of darkness. Its a string with beads on it, beads being people and things and we are all held together by it.
I'm fucking talking like a crazy person *sigh*..
But I've seen too many things that just oppose my idea. It scares me that everything the cynics say might be true, that life is about buying stupid shit, about doing stupid shit, sex, drugs, and violence. The world is a cruel fucking place so get over it. It must be true right, that lack of stupid shit will make you a miserable, ugly prude. I'm the most miserable person I know, it must be true because I have nothing that the world considers important!!!!!! I'm miserable because I watch everyone I know being so fucking happy with everything I wish I had, I wish even if it caused me more pain to experience.
No.. I'm miserable because I know I can change it all, for me and for everyone in some small way, but I don't.
Its all just so silly, I've been living in my own head for too long.
I say such stupid things. I just sit here an think about life but never do anything.

Why is it so much easier for me to believe in destiny than in hope?
When it comes to my future I just let things happen, I don't make plans I just let it run its course.
So far this belief had served me well. I always feel myself being pushed in ironic and unusual situations but I usually come out either on top as things just fall into place.
I can't help but feel somthing horrible, somthing fearsome is waiting for me in the not too distant future. I don't know, and its awful how afraid it is making me. Its like a sword of Damocles.
I know my belief in fate is going to fail me.
Hope, planning for a fruitful future is what I need now, but why am I so afraid to try to have them?