Dreary Definitions Deux

Hypocrite: one too critical to be approached with a much needed confrontation. Practices shadow-crawling, but apart from detailed eyes. This is the person who's easily tabled on a backyard balcony, quick to laugh and dash, suddenly needing to use the potty.
There are only 2 necessary categories. A. Exposed- Everyone knows things he/she only attacks arguments won before. Keeping the boundaries limited is an especially tricky manuever of this species.
B. Underexposed-Something seems entirely too tidy. He/She doesn't look shady, doesn't speak shady, doesn't behave shady. But there is definitely too much shade.

SquareBear- The Dramatist

Ro: Has yr colon been acting up?
SB: Not since the weather's changed.
Ro: It snowed 2 weeks ago, but has all melted. So yes?
SB: Oui.
RO: There really aren't any qualified doctors up here, are there?
SB: To be honest, I haven't really explored any options.
Ro: You really should, i've been worried.
SB: Porquoi?
Ro: It's in my nature.
SB: I understand, know what's in my nature?
RO: Not really.
SB: Maulings.

Alls I Know

me be new, me be babey
i know no words
or who you are
meaning all reality
you be yrs, me be mine
everything's amazing
and unreal
perfect...not yet do you show otherwise
but you will
won't you?
i'll grow again
in time, i knew no different.

New, but not necessarily Improved

i've decided to follow up on an idea i had a few days ago in respect to my blog, and in a lesser field, life. Not that i'd ever compare the two, though they are both strikingly indirect. As always, i will keep to my usual practice of posting one entry, all nice and plastic wrapped, while keeping another in my drafting folder as my reference towards my white rabbit rantings. However, doing so with future intentions of an unveiling. Sure, will probably be 1 or 2 months later once the feelings have had time to air. It is my baby step towards my ultimate goal of being truer in expression. Shedding fears, letting go, and making amends. And i am well aware of the shrewd truth that many of these things are really only important in my own, little, maniackly deficient mind. I doubt that's a word, and i doubt even further that if it were, that that would be the correct spelling.
But really, should i market myself for myself, i just might become more satisfied with acquisitions. I'm being experimental these days. I'm like Jack the Pumpkin King.....what does it mean? what does it mean?

The song I wish I wrote

hot, dog, boy i wish i be white
that's right, hon
Jee christ,boy i wish i be white
ya right, son
i always thought they could...
i always thought they could...
i always thought they would...
step on up

mee mo, yo i wish i be white
that's right, hon
jee christ, boy i wish i be white
ya right, son
i thought i saw something
i thought i saw something
i thought i saw something...fly right by.

Travels of an Extraordinary Nature

Learning new things about new people gives me the satisfaction in new days. The journey of others are better than books. Reality seems stronger in the eyes of strangers. A night like so many others, with moves all the same, the lighting fit the ever usual spectrum. Conversations connect with manners all too familiar, yet with a greater hope. After twenty five years of knowing one thing and but hours of knowing another, feels like warming snow. My repetitive nature kept me in a curving line quite like a sphere, whereas I struck against an obtuse and it knocked me right out of the orbital path. Many nights she spent dreaming one dream. The kind where you know it’s only a vision you would never escape. How your mind has its path prepared, and though of your own creation, not entirely yours to maintain. Subconscious rules most natures. So says my yesterday.
According to the ancients, life must remain malleable to sustain. But nobody ever told me that life must remain malleable to regain. Perseverance was the godchild of both strength-of-self and possibility-of-dreamery. The temptation is throbbing like a balloon about to burst. I’d shout on the street if I weren’t such a contradiction.
Most of the weakness leaks from the fears of myself. What if I were too tame to believe in my version of the future? What if my visions are intrinsicly against my nature and just another example in seeking that of which is unable to be held with such a tiny fist? How could I revolt against the routine of each passing day? The time is now. For what I’ve learned is that the goal is not who I might impress, nor who I might acquire, or even why I feel the need. My mission is to prove my strength, my ability, and the confidence I maintain in minding the master of what I believe in as the future. And it marks the day I learned that its not how the world creates you, but how might you create the world. Passivity has no place anymore.
With gratitude,
The Stranger

I'd rather live in my Dreams

Last night I slept in my Momma's bed because the family got snowed out down the hill. Her bed is pretty luxurious. California King with that Space Foam shit, tons of pillows, soft cuddly blankets that smell of fabric softener. It was some good sleeping. And I believe that the incredible comfort led to my wonderfully amusing dreams.

I was at some sort of water park and I was just floating down a river raft in the nice warm sun. I was with my family and it was pleasant. It began getting dark unusually fast, and I ended up in a dark parking lot. All the cars had left and I didn't quite know what I was looking for. The moon was huge and bright orange. I saw a siloutte flying above the moon, and at first I couldn't really make out the shape.

I'm not done.....

First I Dream Naughtily, then I Dream so Sad

i was in a classroom and i wanted to leave because my "boyfriend" was waiting outside. I was in the back left corner seat while the door was at the front right corner of the room. I slithered down my seat like drunken Elliot in ET and put my belly to the floor, and i crawled out the door like Baby Mikey. He laughed when i opened the door and i got up, not at all embarrassed at how i exited my class. I felt completely at ease and he kissed the corner of my mouth. He had two motorcycle helmets in his arms and gave the pearly white one to me. His was black, dirty and scratched. He was dark and he was cute and i've never seen someone like him before. He was crossing a wet, rocky path high on a cliff. I was scared and thrilled and i bit his jacket to keep from screaming like a banshee. I wanted things then and there, and i found that occasionally my dreams oblige.

I awoke from the sensation of falling and i got up for some water. I was embarrassed to wake up. It was early dawn. I went back in my blankets and tried to return.

I was back in my class and i was mad to be there, this time I changed my clothes in my seat until i was dressed all in black. i hadn't any reason to do so. Then i put a ski mask on my head and climbed out the window, imagining that i resembled the burglars in A Christmas Story. I was running down the street, hiding behind poles, trees, mailboxes, baby strollers, and even other burglars hiding behind trees, poles, etc. I turned and came into a rickety rust-ridden gate. There was a cemetary, and it was small like the one in that movie they showed while we waited to get into the haunted house in Ontario. I saw my friend waiting there, about to cry. As i went down to console him, i began to cry in an uncontrollable mess. I couldn't breath, so i let him go, but it was worse so i grabbed back again. I knew someone or something was dead, was gone, forever....i felt such a loss. But the hole was empty and shallow and the stone was blank. My mind began to zoom out and i let him go. The place was suddenly full with people. Suddenly calm, we parted and he was fine as well. I went to stand by my mom and grandma. And i looked back but he was gone. I felt empty and hugged my grandma's arm, still unaware of what we were mourning.

Leaving See Saw

Yr living with a snow globe. Clearly, we can see.
Where Neverything is permanent, unkempt or make believe.
The stump for rested pumperknick might leak for forty years
should yr mouth might make a sound for anything and yours
Couldn't help but comprehend just how lingering U do time
as thinking little for the mind and even lesser of the crime
So look at how you have me do and yes, without a word
dreaming of the gravestone reads and reading what you mean
Crowning from the birth of touch do i speak or let you die
pardon thee for what to see when pocketing the seed up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down
leaving seesaw....it just ain't right

Dreary Definitions

Alcoholic- person deeming the drink more important than the other.
Stages 12&3-- usually funner when drunk.
Stage 4&5, walk the other way, it isn't cute, it isn't funny. There is something very dark and very vulgar hanging on every word.


But there is power in the drink. It turns all feedback into noise. It takes a tree of several branches, and makes it only into one. One long, tall stump. Things are less complicated. The slowing of the eye finds less criticism staring back. It's an oversized umbrella. It's a fuse to the fire. It's something only some people will ever truly experience. It's sadly beautiful and unforgivably pathetic. The true are never proud. She's an ever haunting.

Overdramatic- person deeming the reaction more important than causation.
Stages 1&2--creating excitement with any breath, in the moment, bold, inspirational.
Stages 3&4--walk the other way. A day will come when you become the boring, thus forcibly becoming the exciting.

But like to a moth to a flame. It is like a cancer. Attraction is an orgy between interest, incest, and intrigue. If our culture has taught us anything, it was spastic. It was short, it was weighted.

I've drearied myself into a sleepy slumb.

Fast-Like Forty

i can just imagine yr future. Fastlike and forty. Makin up for all the lost time. Herein yr twenties.

Even the Biggest Fool can find another Fool to Follow

blind anger that you can't understand unless you've been there. unless you've had your own version of the story. there are two ends to be on. eventually you experience them both. it matters not how pretty you are. and charm, especially charm has no meaning here. the big accusation: tis always selfishness. grown-ups act like children, and even children act like children. children are inexperienced without past mistakes to compare you to....loving unconditionally should it be allowed and encouraged. until the first stroke, arm numb, fog in the eyes, and a searing pain. the major affecteds are the heart and head. but there are cases of affected genitals. gravity becomes angry with your tunnel vision and staples you to the bed, or floor, where should you be comfortable. things get slower and thoughts stretch long like a licked together Abbazabba. you hate like you love, careful with the edges, kinder on the offense, never without a backward answer. Cameron said it best..."pardon my french, but yr an asshole". it could be quite a spectator sport, just never admit it. they "claim" to hate "games". fuck nuances and your "tone", i knew it first and yr just jealous. Re-creation happens fast, or so it seems. the second times, sometimes thirds and fourths make attempts at role jumping. hurt is active and passive. i don't boast for what i've learned, for it was little, so much i'm embarrassed. but you'll never make if you never do, and so should you, too. i make little promises with that constant voice "my life is a joke". i retort, mine too, mine too. so freakin' great isn't it
though digressing, not really much because two heads are better than one. and i'm gonna get mine through any means possible.

The Devil's Plaything

How could somebody argue whether or not they believe in fate when its almost impossible to understand? Unless you have a ball of crystal that works, how could you ever determine whether certain things happen for a reason. You never get the chance to see the offshoots of possible realities that could occur if you made the "other" decision. Movies like the Butterfly Effect suggest that no matter what direction you go in, if fate has its way with you, the outcome will be the same only with a different coloured shell. I wonder, does fate protect me?
I had one of those fate days today. My plans must change. The way I saw the next year has changed, and to that i wonder why?

I wasn't really done with this post. I just had a weekend in my way.

But yes, back to my day of fate. I learned that my plans for the next year and a half have been temporarily postponed for reasons of my own creation. Not knowing something important really is my own fault, not fates. However the way things must be manuevered now that I made the said mistake, work in my responsible favor. I will have the chance to be financially fit for the next endeavor. Uh, and the summer will be a less horrible time to return to Berkeley.
I sometimes think I ponder these things as some off-the-wall form of consolation. Like religion or some shit like that. If things happen for a reason, and if I were lucky or intuitive enough to have called the school before Nov. 1st, maybe my Spring would have been difficult, and not thoroughly prepared for.

Or maybe not. I'm probably not making sense. Although, I would have, had I discussed this without any boundaries. For if my typing hands were not gagged for fear of disclosing my desires, hopes, dreams, fantasies, etc., well then, you could see that this has more to do than waiting 6 more months to complete the seemingly uncompleteable. It has to do with sad separation. Poof, though, I'm done with this.

And Meyer, you go boy!

Infatuation of the First Degree

I had forgotten what it felt like. You know, when you're just dumbfounded by the fucking hotness of someone. When you wake early in the morning and see him sleeping and know its wrong to stare, and if he were to wake up to seeing you with a blank happy stare...well, it just wouldn't be kosher...ya know? It's been awhile since i had one of those crushes...the kind where it consumes ya when yr driving, as yr falling asleep, daydreaming at work or in class or in the shower. It's just the best, and it might just make me feel pathetic if it weren't so sickly satisfying.
I'm sure his ladyfriend's got it good.

And the Bat came back....

the very next day.

Unfortunately, i found out some terribly disappointing news about the futile attempts at improving my stupid situation. Apparently, i have wasted my time taking classes here, classes there. Because there is this thing called "senior residency", there is this thing called "administrative bullshit", and again the thing called bureacratic ass raping. Yes, i again feel the metaphoric lingering pain of a good, serated knife the size of an asshole, assrape. She's gots to go back for some miniscule amount of units, $3360 down the drain....walking through crowded sprouls of hippy, hipster (not hypnotic, though hypocritical) little brats. Well, me 4 years ago. Fine, me still, just without the foolish happiness. I am not looking forward to this at all, and i wish my past self would have had at least some moments of responsibility and foresight. What a fuckin' fool.

Troubleshooter

1. you feel powerless after 8pm review the day. if you were run off the road by an SUV or your boss tried to undermine your intelligence, you may feel a little out of sorts. Review the day before today. If it is better, pretend that was your day. 3 glasses of wine will also help. Sometimes a certain CD set on low will suffice.

2.things didn't work out like you wanted them to Find the source of why you thought they might. the reason may be hard to distinguish. Take your time. Once you locate the fantasy, disconnect and power off.

3. the world seems like a scary place to be Consider whether you were thinking about election day. If so, try and think of disastrous moments in history. Pretend it is that day. Now remember it is today, perhaps you'll feel better. See 1.

4. Everything seems the same all the timeRealize that it is. And there are not unless, elses, or untils about it.

5. the complaining never ends.shut up or go to sleep.

Re: My Snow Day Link

Don't i look like a hobo?


If you answered yes to the following question, good. Then you are astute. But you see, that is the style in these parts. Be a good hobo, and the locals will smile at you. By the way, by locals i mean locos.

The Love Vote

if i am dissatisfied with the choices of my fellow countrymen, i will not hesitate to react. i will grow angry and bitter. i will want explanations. the experience will not be pleasant. this is not a threat, this is not a test, this is merely my feelings at this very moment.