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Thu, Nov. 11th, 2010, 08:54 pm

Fear becomes the natural expression for everything I am feeling,

Doubt becomes the natural expression for everything I am feeling,

Thu, Nov. 11th, 2010, 08:33 pm

Guiding angel of listlessness

Guiding angel of listlessness
Your guiding angel of disharmony
Angel guides your uselessness
A faithful angel guiding

Guiding angel of thoughtlessness
Your TV guide of angels
Angel guides your disinterestedness
A faithful angel guiding

Guiding angel of distractedness
Your guiding angel of disunity
Angel guides your randomness
A faithful angel guiding

Guiding angel of homelessness
Your guiding angel of vacancy
Angel guides your heartlessness
A faithful angel guiding

Found poem with confirmation words

Thu, Nov. 11th, 2010, 08:03 pm


Somehow, the smoke will go
out from this pub, and dim the city
by streets
by orange light.
Slowly, the rattle of coughing
and laughter and glasses
is submerging,
and everything is becoming silent
as you, and your friends slide toward me
in mid-action, lining tracks and
stacked elegantly as cutouts.

I am re-animated in your presence,
I am conducting the final overture,
and slowly, I am detaching the sound and the movement,
and somehow, I am becoming mute and immobile
in the face of this.

Fri, Sep. 24th, 2010, 09:01 am
Experiences and Expectations

Life is so counterintuitive for me, and you have to constantly be aware of what's around you to really enjoy it. Because that's all anyone can really enjoy--no amount of dreaming will create something better--and who can say our ideals are better than reality itself all the time? I try to understand what I hate, and love what I ignore, because it truly is all gone when it's over, and you will miss it.

I'm not sure what my expectations were for the Mexico trip, but my expectations wrecked havoc on my sense of satisfaction, until the moment I landed in Villahermosa. Something occurred that I never had thought of while preparing myself mentally for the trip. We were a group of 14 strangers who were about to become a nearly completely enclosed world, especially for those who didn't speak Spanish--the English speaking world suddenly became 14 strangers who we had to spend every living moment with. In such cases, there are no wishes to be made, there are no changes to make, you live with one another, and that's it. You try to come to terms with the things you hate about the people who annoy you, and you try to give some care to those you would generally ignore. We had to be available to one another, because if we didn't the world became immediately larger and more threatening. Without an island of 14 strangers, you were caught in an ocean of something else. People you couldn't read, and just as well couldn't hear. People you could be around, but couldn't be part of. And while that is survivable for two weeks, it's not very enjoyable. So despite expectations for a short study abroad course, we found mostly an intense value in each other. Something that hasn't happened for me since high school.

Wed, Aug. 12th, 2009, 11:05 pm

Going back through my recent entries, I'm trying to decide what made me so unhappy, and the only common thread I can come up wit his boys. Now that I've started living for myself, it seems, I'm happier.

But that can't be entirely true. There is the added variable of David coming into my life. A stability and source of loving reassurance that has to be factored into the explanation.

And for once in my life, I feel that I'm really achieving things. I'm finally coming out on top, where I'd always expected myself to be. I'm meeting my own expectations.

So can my happiness be deduced to achievement of self respect and attainment of love. Or is it just distractedness from my previous state by these passing accommodations.

Right now, if I were to explain myself to someone, I would say that right now I am like a machine that takes a goal and breaks it down into steps in a process, and I never fail. I can achieve anything.

Thu, Nov. 20th, 2008, 05:12 pm

i havent written anything at all in a while. not a poem, not even a line of anything other than strictly analytical compositions on class articles. loads and loads of articles. In fact five pounds of articles from one class. all composited into my short term memory and translated for proof of viewing, my receipt for academic transaction, my short, confused essays.
i wonder if you could understand the concepts by reiterating them into poetry instead? or some sort of creative approach. essay writing is creative of course, but it is also very constricted, and every line i write screams for approval from the intelligent society. essay writing is so regulated! it's almost like a game where we have to accrue points. in fact it is! 5 points for correct grammar, topic discussion here, entertaining anecdote there, failure to cite, lose all. i feel out of my element trying to focus my opinions into a few sentences, and then elaborating on only those few specific ideas for seven pages. though it is a huge chance for creativity, mine is stifled in this way. im still uncomfortable with the rogue construct of an essay, i cannot yet detail it in my own way, rearrange the structure within the rules, and make it my own.

ive been lonley in a world of reading, documentaries, power points and other stimulus. i feel insecure this way in being alone with my thoughts, i need to bounce them off other humans to know how real they are, how valid, or even what they really mean to me.

Thu, Oct. 23rd, 2008, 11:57 pm

god i feel hopelessly awkward. like i'm always obligated to be the one who is alone. well if i'm going to be alone, i might as well be it somewere else, somewhere with good scenery, and somewhere where other alone people are for me to look at, and to consider.

i forgot how hopeless it feels to be in school. to study and study something you don't believe in, something that you're actually a little skeptical of. the guarded personalities are at once hilarius and constricting. it's almost required to be sensitive to your capabilities, and judgment of them by others. your peers and your superiors, where does the jump occur? when am i better than

i'm really really lonely, and lost on my obsession. i'm fake all the time now, and it makes me forget what i want. what i really feel

Thu, Oct. 23rd, 2008, 11:20 pm

I'll let the music fill the room tonight, even if it sounds worse in dispersal. i need to feel like this place has something in it something to fill the jumps between bookcase to closet to desk to bed. something to fill the emptiness between my roomates rooms. something to light up an airless construction like this. why do i always feel let down at the end of the week? why do i feel a slight and sullen emptiness for just a second. why do i feel loneliest after having new company? and in these situations, why do i feel betrayed by everyone i've known?

I had an odd dream filled with the unfamiliar names of people i've recently met. people who have a significance to me only in secondary terms.

this dream was filled with the beige of a desert light. and the pastel blues of a morning. everything was fresh and cold, except to the sun like a hot palm already gripping your shoulders. this is how it is in san diego. the sun is a constant physical presence like this.

i have a hard enough time believing
in what i'm doing?
what am i doing? it's so weird, it's like i'm following my own plan, but it's almost like i'm blindly following it, as if it were not my will in the first place

Sat, Oct. 18th, 2008, 06:44 pm

when's the best time to tell someone that you love him? at this point, i'm thinking never.

Mon, Oct. 13th, 2008, 06:02 pm

today is red wine for lost love.
i'm doing the best that i can, trying to relive bad memories, and reminding myself that it's only i who loves him, and not him that loves me.

i think i forget how much trees have been a part of my life. all throughout my childhood i have grown up looking out the window at the emotive branches, the positions of the wind against the leaves are speaking philosophies to me; decisions i made decades ago when the initial interpretation was the only one, and i'm feeling i have lost a language. and they weren't just trees, these were forests that were my adventures, my protectors, my first experiences of the world around me were trees trees tress, eucalyptus, taught to be exotic, from australia. these are the bases of foreign feelings, like i was involved in something not normal. my mother. student housing. these are ascribed images of what defined me separately. i am wary of and sensitive to differences i carry.

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