Sunburn peeling, patience waning, emotions misleading.
This time, no missiles are need to start a war.
Like Humpty Dumpty, I fell off the wall. Only in place of the King's horses, and all the King's men, the task of being put together again is left to me. Clearly a dificult task. Sometimes I feel like porcelain.
One step at a time, one step at a time, one step at a time. Silly, silly, just make those steps forward, not back and you'll be back on track.
11.8.09
3.4.09
Obsolete.
Often times we think back to how long we've known our friends and how much has changed. Constantly dwelling on the past, or reflecting, however you choose to see it.
Sometimes when you get together with your ol' chums you reminisce on how 25¢ chips actually had more chips than air. Remember spending a whole dollar on Swedish Fish, Sour Patch, Bazooka Joe, & Caramel candies? All the while feeling like the richest kid in the store. How about collecting those stickers you'd buy in packs for two dollars and get three sheets of fuzzy puppy stickers, or scented flowers, maybe just something glittery? Half-pint drinks you crushed and stuck on your bike wheel when you were done with 'em for that motorbike feel? Tropical fantasies actually came in plastic bottles! Surge, anyone?
I'm sure we all have one thing about when we were younger that we used to always do. That one customary thing that you just can't anymore. Not because you're too old(technically you can still throw toilet paper wads at the ceiling to watch them stick with sick amazement), but because you're just unable to find the means to. Most spots kids used to skate back in the day have been either torn down or remodelled to be unskateable. The days of arcades are all but dead, used to be you couldn't go more than 5 blocks without finding one. How about our playgrounds? Made of wood and metal, and what is this nonsense with the rubber mats? How are we conditioning our children if they aren't burned with the scalding metal of a slide sitting in the sun all day? No surprise splinters as you try to escape "prison" without touching the floor? How about mixtapes that were actually on casette tapes? Remember the time and effort you put into making that perfect tape for someone? The songs had to flow together just right and portray exactly what you wanted them to.
I suppose I'm just ranting, but, fuck it. A couple of weeks ago I was sketching. This is a miracle, really, as I've been creatively inept for the past 2 or 3 years now. So here I am, pencil to the paper, going at it, and I must say, I'm doing quite the stellar job. Or at least was, now I need an eraser. Well, Dr. C, why not just flip your pencil upside down? I'll tell you why, young fool, because I was using a pencil specific for light sketches, these don't come with erasers on the end. At least not the one I have.
So, here I am, in dire need of an eraser. When I was a kid, I could go to the store on the corner for those pink erasers, you know, the sort that leave your paper slightly pink when you erase too much? Normally not my first choice, but I was a woman in need. Only they don't have erasers. In fact, the Arabic man at the counter thought I was asking for razors. So I trekked it on down to the local pharmacy. In my mind I was sure that I'd find a whole nifty pack of erasers. Apparently, erasers, too, have been rendered obsolete. After walking from store to pharmacy every few blocks, I remembered a stationary store nearby. Too bad when I got there, it was closed. So I spent all day walking all over the place trying to find an eraser, wondering what these dumb children use in school?
I suppose this was just one really long tangent of my frustration that day, but, I was out for four hours trying to find the damn things. You'll be happy to know I went to the stationary store on a weekday and bought five of the little fuckers.
Sometimes when you get together with your ol' chums you reminisce on how 25¢ chips actually had more chips than air. Remember spending a whole dollar on Swedish Fish, Sour Patch, Bazooka Joe, & Caramel candies? All the while feeling like the richest kid in the store. How about collecting those stickers you'd buy in packs for two dollars and get three sheets of fuzzy puppy stickers, or scented flowers, maybe just something glittery? Half-pint drinks you crushed and stuck on your bike wheel when you were done with 'em for that motorbike feel? Tropical fantasies actually came in plastic bottles! Surge, anyone?
I'm sure we all have one thing about when we were younger that we used to always do. That one customary thing that you just can't anymore. Not because you're too old(technically you can still throw toilet paper wads at the ceiling to watch them stick with sick amazement), but because you're just unable to find the means to. Most spots kids used to skate back in the day have been either torn down or remodelled to be unskateable. The days of arcades are all but dead, used to be you couldn't go more than 5 blocks without finding one. How about our playgrounds? Made of wood and metal, and what is this nonsense with the rubber mats? How are we conditioning our children if they aren't burned with the scalding metal of a slide sitting in the sun all day? No surprise splinters as you try to escape "prison" without touching the floor? How about mixtapes that were actually on casette tapes? Remember the time and effort you put into making that perfect tape for someone? The songs had to flow together just right and portray exactly what you wanted them to.
I suppose I'm just ranting, but, fuck it. A couple of weeks ago I was sketching. This is a miracle, really, as I've been creatively inept for the past 2 or 3 years now. So here I am, pencil to the paper, going at it, and I must say, I'm doing quite the stellar job. Or at least was, now I need an eraser. Well, Dr. C, why not just flip your pencil upside down? I'll tell you why, young fool, because I was using a pencil specific for light sketches, these don't come with erasers on the end. At least not the one I have.
So, here I am, in dire need of an eraser. When I was a kid, I could go to the store on the corner for those pink erasers, you know, the sort that leave your paper slightly pink when you erase too much? Normally not my first choice, but I was a woman in need. Only they don't have erasers. In fact, the Arabic man at the counter thought I was asking for razors. So I trekked it on down to the local pharmacy. In my mind I was sure that I'd find a whole nifty pack of erasers. Apparently, erasers, too, have been rendered obsolete. After walking from store to pharmacy every few blocks, I remembered a stationary store nearby. Too bad when I got there, it was closed. So I spent all day walking all over the place trying to find an eraser, wondering what these dumb children use in school?
I suppose this was just one really long tangent of my frustration that day, but, I was out for four hours trying to find the damn things. You'll be happy to know I went to the stationary store on a weekday and bought five of the little fuckers.
20.3.09
Understand the concept of love.
The common misconception(or rather just what you are told by people after your heart has been non-surgically removed from your chest and ripped apart before your eyes) that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all, is quite the load of fecal matter.
Love makes us(yes, you too) miserable for the sake of a few beautiful moments. Really, though, who is the person more miserable? The one who lost their love, or the one who's yet to even have one? It is impossible to replace the feeling of elation that consumes you when in love. There is no drug out there that can compare, trust me, I've dabbled in most of them. There is no amount of chocolate in the world that would make you feel so euphoric.
At the same time, the unbearable longing a person goes through just to experience that joy, that peace, that utterly beautiful perfection, is enough to make a person go mad. No love of friends or pets can begin to compare. Now, don't get me wrong, all that is well and good, your friends, your pets, your family, your passions, whatever it is that you makes your heart skip a beat. Whatever makes you happy. You just shed less tears when those are lost.
So I wonder, as one who has loved and lost, which is worse? My emotional scar tissue is so thick I don't see how anyone could get through it. I wonder if it's better to have a clean slate and just never know. Ignorance is supposedly bliss, no? We all crave it. Need it. That overwhelming feeling that makes you do things you never thought you would. You give anything for that one moment alone with someone, not in the sexual sense, but just to be. Even the porn star wants someone to go home to after a long day of some hardcore anal double penetration.
Just like the girl with straight hair, who lives her life always wishing she had curls, I'll go on wishing I never knew what it was like to have loved. The pain a person feels upon the loss of such perpetual bliss is beyond nerve-wrecking. Some handle it better than others, true. However, until you have fallen into a pit of complete despair(when you know life goes on, but you just don't know what to do with yourself without your love) then I say you weren't really in love in the first place.
We're supposedly the most intelligent species on the face of the Earth, yet we drive ourselves mad with emotions, second guessing everything. At the end of the day everyone just wants someone to love. Why else would dating sites be so successful? It's not because people are looking for sex. When you learn to differentiate lust and love then you either wish you had it or go on trying to fill the empty cold space beside you when you lay in bed at night.
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return."--
Love makes us(yes, you too) miserable for the sake of a few beautiful moments. Really, though, who is the person more miserable? The one who lost their love, or the one who's yet to even have one? It is impossible to replace the feeling of elation that consumes you when in love. There is no drug out there that can compare, trust me, I've dabbled in most of them. There is no amount of chocolate in the world that would make you feel so euphoric.
At the same time, the unbearable longing a person goes through just to experience that joy, that peace, that utterly beautiful perfection, is enough to make a person go mad. No love of friends or pets can begin to compare. Now, don't get me wrong, all that is well and good, your friends, your pets, your family, your passions, whatever it is that you makes your heart skip a beat. Whatever makes you happy. You just shed less tears when those are lost.
So I wonder, as one who has loved and lost, which is worse? My emotional scar tissue is so thick I don't see how anyone could get through it. I wonder if it's better to have a clean slate and just never know. Ignorance is supposedly bliss, no? We all crave it. Need it. That overwhelming feeling that makes you do things you never thought you would. You give anything for that one moment alone with someone, not in the sexual sense, but just to be. Even the porn star wants someone to go home to after a long day of some hardcore anal double penetration.
Just like the girl with straight hair, who lives her life always wishing she had curls, I'll go on wishing I never knew what it was like to have loved. The pain a person feels upon the loss of such perpetual bliss is beyond nerve-wrecking. Some handle it better than others, true. However, until you have fallen into a pit of complete despair(when you know life goes on, but you just don't know what to do with yourself without your love) then I say you weren't really in love in the first place.
We're supposedly the most intelligent species on the face of the Earth, yet we drive ourselves mad with emotions, second guessing everything. At the end of the day everyone just wants someone to love. Why else would dating sites be so successful? It's not because people are looking for sex. When you learn to differentiate lust and love then you either wish you had it or go on trying to fill the empty cold space beside you when you lay in bed at night.
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return."--
18.12.08
Un-lucky 13.
A lot of things happen in a day. This past week, maybe two, now, has been ridiculous.
Above all else, though, I've found the greatest love song ever.
Okay, maybe not ever. If you haven't played Mario Kart before, you probably won't even understand. 'Tis quite epic.
I'm making moves, one step closer to everything I intend. Don't inquire, though. I'm not ready yet. You'll see when it happens, as it's happening. It'll happen this time, though. Failure is not an option.
I find myself giving up on love. An odd move for me. The events leading up to my loss in faith don't matter. What does matter is that it is happening. Maybe that boy was right, I am cold-hearted.
Really, I haven't much to say. I have apartments to look at today. I'm working on not being so needy and dependent. Also, on not slouching anymore. I'm going to download those Rosetta Stone joints and learn some Spanish. It's about time. I've a trip to Mexico to prepare for.
Lauren reminded me of the fat-boy special today. Honey turkey, bacon, & cheese, on a buttered roll, toasted, with jelly. *thumbs up* With a mixed berry smoothie on the side. Everyone should indulge in it, at least once. Guaranteed to satisfy your taste buds in ways you can't imagine.
Above all else, though, I've found the greatest love song ever.
Okay, maybe not ever. If you haven't played Mario Kart before, you probably won't even understand. 'Tis quite epic.
I'm making moves, one step closer to everything I intend. Don't inquire, though. I'm not ready yet. You'll see when it happens, as it's happening. It'll happen this time, though. Failure is not an option.
I find myself giving up on love. An odd move for me. The events leading up to my loss in faith don't matter. What does matter is that it is happening. Maybe that boy was right, I am cold-hearted.
Really, I haven't much to say. I have apartments to look at today. I'm working on not being so needy and dependent. Also, on not slouching anymore. I'm going to download those Rosetta Stone joints and learn some Spanish. It's about time. I've a trip to Mexico to prepare for.
Lauren reminded me of the fat-boy special today. Honey turkey, bacon, & cheese, on a buttered roll, toasted, with jelly. *thumbs up* With a mixed berry smoothie on the side. Everyone should indulge in it, at least once. Guaranteed to satisfy your taste buds in ways you can't imagine.
7.12.08
Venticuatro
I'm a victim of identity theft. I used to laugh at those commercials with the cruddy old white man with the ditzy white girl voice. Going on about all the wonderful things she bought on his dollar. Like, oh, my, God.
Look at me, again, turning to all the wrong people. I'm alright. No, really.
It doesn't pay to be as vague and guarded as I am.
I wanted the world. All I've got are shattered dreams, and this broken heart.
Can I really change myself in twenty-four days? I don't even know how to keep my thoughts organized. The big pink "x" on my hand is just the reminder of how I am wasting my life. So is the big hicky on my boob. You might not notice, but drinking is the only thing I have left. I am that alcoholic. Please, don't intervene.
I cried last night. I cried hard. Happy people never want to hear about someone's broken heart. Nor why someone's heart is breaking. They always assume they've all the answers. That everything gets better. Time heals all wounds, right? What a load of shit. I broke last night to see someone else so torn. If I could, I would make everything okay. I hate to know that anyone I care for feels like me, or worse. On a completely irrelevant, but somewhat related side-note, I really want this.
It's a shame I've nothing inspiring to say. I can't breathe so well, but it's not my asthma. Maybe it's anxiety.
Sometimes I sit and just listen.
Can you be a good person while doing bad things? Is the drug dealer so bad for trying to make more money because his 9-5 is barely keeping the roof over his head and his son or daughter, his pride and joy, the apple, or apples, of his eye are malnourished and constantly asking him why the kid next door gets to have an xbox while wiping their runny nose, because Robitussin isn't quite cutting it and working everyday just to try and give his kids the life he never had leaves little time to take them to the doctor? Does doing bad things make you a bad person? The world is not so black and white. There are shades of grey everywhere.
It's only been a week, but it feels like eternity. Hopeful that the new year, this time, will mean a new beginning. I'll keep dreaming the dreamer's dream, and I'll hold my own hand as I walk down the street, and I'll keep wearing what's left of my heart on my sleeve, and I'll keep picking at the scabs and creating new wounds, so I'll never forget what it's like to hurt, so that I won't make the same mistakes anymore, so that I can keep smiling, convinced the grass really is greener on the other side. I've just this desert to cross before I can make it over the mountain and see it for myself.
Twenty-four more days, and I'll be damned if I don't do something. Anything.
Look at me, again, turning to all the wrong people. I'm alright. No, really.
It doesn't pay to be as vague and guarded as I am.
I wanted the world. All I've got are shattered dreams, and this broken heart.
Can I really change myself in twenty-four days? I don't even know how to keep my thoughts organized. The big pink "x" on my hand is just the reminder of how I am wasting my life. So is the big hicky on my boob. You might not notice, but drinking is the only thing I have left. I am that alcoholic. Please, don't intervene.
I cried last night. I cried hard. Happy people never want to hear about someone's broken heart. Nor why someone's heart is breaking. They always assume they've all the answers. That everything gets better. Time heals all wounds, right? What a load of shit. I broke last night to see someone else so torn. If I could, I would make everything okay. I hate to know that anyone I care for feels like me, or worse. On a completely irrelevant, but somewhat related side-note, I really want this.
It's a shame I've nothing inspiring to say. I can't breathe so well, but it's not my asthma. Maybe it's anxiety.
Sometimes I sit and just listen.
Can you be a good person while doing bad things? Is the drug dealer so bad for trying to make more money because his 9-5 is barely keeping the roof over his head and his son or daughter, his pride and joy, the apple, or apples, of his eye are malnourished and constantly asking him why the kid next door gets to have an xbox while wiping their runny nose, because Robitussin isn't quite cutting it and working everyday just to try and give his kids the life he never had leaves little time to take them to the doctor? Does doing bad things make you a bad person? The world is not so black and white. There are shades of grey everywhere.
It's only been a week, but it feels like eternity. Hopeful that the new year, this time, will mean a new beginning. I'll keep dreaming the dreamer's dream, and I'll hold my own hand as I walk down the street, and I'll keep wearing what's left of my heart on my sleeve, and I'll keep picking at the scabs and creating new wounds, so I'll never forget what it's like to hurt, so that I won't make the same mistakes anymore, so that I can keep smiling, convinced the grass really is greener on the other side. I've just this desert to cross before I can make it over the mountain and see it for myself.
Twenty-four more days, and I'll be damned if I don't do something. Anything.
1.12.08
Just 30 more days.
I've got my white t-shirt on, in respects to the events in Mumbai.
I still focus on the little things too much. All these little things I'm looking forward to changing.
A new day, a new dawn, a new url.
30 more days to the rest of my life. I'm tip-toeing along, though, still hoping I'm traveling the right path, this time.
Some words of wisdom? I wise man said to me earlier that Tay Zonday is a prophet, as the things he has said have ended up happening. Personally, I can't take seriously anyone who does this.
I still focus on the little things too much. All these little things I'm looking forward to changing.
A new day, a new dawn, a new url.
30 more days to the rest of my life. I'm tip-toeing along, though, still hoping I'm traveling the right path, this time.
Some words of wisdom? I wise man said to me earlier that Tay Zonday is a prophet, as the things he has said have ended up happening. Personally, I can't take seriously anyone who does this.
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