Missing young Roni

I loved to listen to Supertramp's "Bloody well Right", and "The Logical Song". I used to sit in my room and make lists. I used to write to people who would never know or write me back. I used to dream of fantastic places. I used to steal my mother's alcohol, I used to share with those I loved. I used to have innocence hanging on a string. From my mouth, down under my chin, hanging on everybody's every word.
I used to be such a positist, pessimist, youthesist. I used to dream with people. And I still dream of people, of falling airplanes, of catastrophe. But i did it better then. Because at that time, I was new. I was pallid. I was a short-comer.

And now, that's just ugly. Now, so silly. Now, pathetic.

But change happened for both the better and the worst. I'll look back at me now. Just a kid, twenty-something.....tiddily-winks. My life in half, and I'll be so wrapped up in everything that this will seem like just another opportunity to retrogress upon youth.

I won't write anymore, I'll just read. I'll just be a paralyzed, sex for the need....

I'll just observe and pretend to be overheard, cuz ain't no one wants to hear you now!!!!

Cumpleanos

I heard knocking. When I hear knocking as I sleep, it is but a reflex to say "come in". I didn't say anything. I tried to ignore the sound. But it grew faster and more persistent. And that's when my brain registered that this was not the sound of flesh to door. This was something else. "Come IN!" I yelled again. And as I approached consciousness, I felt the strain on my neck. My fucking shoulders were tired. I am not sleeping in my...."Mamm, you are going to have to step outta the car." I haven't slept in yr bed in months.

"His name is Shadow because he is a black dog." Simple symbolism is not impossible for a child of four. Nor is 7am an early hour for one who falls to sleep at 8pm. In fact, Rosemary found it appalling. For a child to sleep more than 8 hours is a sign. Mental retardation, perhaps? The indications are quite clear. Neither of them accepts breakfast. "Oatmeal is gross." "Raisons look like dead flies." The difference between old and young are now revealed. What in heaven is a Cocoa Crispy? Maple syrup and brown sugar is ignored. As are they. Two siblings. Of what crimes are they capable?
Dog abuse. "His name is Shadow because he is a black dog," he repeats. Two hours later. To his sister. "He is not black, he is dark brown." They don't teach these differences in color until 2nd grade. But she's still in 1st, so retardation will probably be ruled out. But that would only happen if Rosemary had heard her correct her brother. Thus, retardation still clings to this woman's chest.
"I did it again, you know."
"Did what?"
"You know...."
"Oh."
"So what should I do?"
"I guess flip it."
"I did, but what about the rest?"
"I guess, hide them."
"I did."
"Oh."
That's all the conversation needed between two people who understand things so well. Even after only two years of speech between the two, those few words are the only necessity. That is the way among children. Swift speech. Retardation is grossly misunderstood. Even through the prognosis stage. Genious should have been the stronger bet, but that wouldn't be determined until years later. Many, many years later.
And many, many mistakes later, as well.

la boca does not belong there

You have no idea of what you ask. You know nothing of where this came. Trust? That's ridiculous. These voices stem from young children. They are frightened of adults. They see your respectable ways, and they resemble adulthood far too much. Perhaps if you use younger speech, or maybe if you speak in cartoon voice. Maybe if you draw pictures and tell bedtime stories, i might listen.
Just maybe.
And should you disguise your intentions as youth, I'd be more inclined. Trust is a two way street, you know. Some games are okay. But not all games. I grew used to, and once trusted games until I learned the adult versions. So now, I grow weary of such things. I still yearn for those olden times, those big T-shirted times. I'd like to see you quote things I know, people I like, books I've read.

I know many things now. I swear I do. But if you could just simplify yr words a bit and stop trying to sound so smart, I'd probably understand you better. I don't like the games of which I know not the rules. Nobody does. It's not a kid thing, it's a people thing. I've grown and learned, but that's not to say that I'm happy about it.

Remind me of Moon

Interesting enough, that I needed Subrosa last night. I felt so awful, and for no reason at all. Curious enough to say the the last post I wrote was almost exactly a month ago, last time I was emotional and insecure. Need I even mention one additional sidenote that yesterday began my angry flow. Can I be any more predictable? Can I have any more resemblance to such a boring friend in the sky. I've heard alot of beautiful praises sent to the moon, but how about the annoying negatives?
How about the fact that it is something that you cannot escape? Should you fight with the moon, or break up with the moon, well how can you recover with its refusing presence? How selfish to stay!
How about the fact that you see the same faces again and again? It grows, and with it, you do too....happy and full, crazy and big and bright, bringing everyone out to play, only to sink down and deflate and darken humanity's spark, ruining the party with absence a mere moon moments later? How is it anyone can bear to undergo the cycles again and again, ceaselessly repeating? The sheer monotomy makes me bury my head in the ground.

And that is how I feel. I feel annoying and meddlesome. While only trying to help, keeping time and keeping stability, all anyone really desires is the disruption of these things. All I want is a disruption from these things.

I constantly think I have figured out a new way to change things. Only to be fooled again into another cycle. I feel like I'm purposely picking the same "new ideas" to follow because I inherently fear the change a true new idea might make. And how lame is that? Wimpy, predicable and pathetic. Why can I never make up my mind? And when I try, it is only knowing "No, i know i do NOT want this."....it is never feeling "Yes, i know THIS is what I want." What do I do? Why am I so influenced by meaningless Details? Oh my goodness, i wanna shout!

Motherly Confused, Utterly Cold

I am so cold. This cold has driven me downstairs underneath my living room heater.
And I don't know what this is all about. Not the cold, but the thing I do.
The cold was just how it is right now.
Even with the heat on,
I close these doors like a Christmas present,
or like the glasses I used to trap spiders under
when I first arrived.
Why do I do this?
Why did i do that?

Maybe I'm different in hot and in cold. Maybe I'm like that green cup I had from Burger King that turns yellow by hot chocolate, green with raspberry tea.
Even last year, I was too old for that shit.

But still, with no explanations.
I used to think, just a mere 3 months ago, that those spiders were visitors. Didn't think I'd run out of cups. Didn't know they lived here.

But they run rampant, so I don't even bother with the chase.
Bitten, so what?

Gonna switch to stand-by. Made a big list.
Mary, mother of god, pray for our sinners. Now. At the hour of our death, Amen.

nai

I am 27 years old. Shouldn't I have reached the age where I no longer feel like I did when I was 14. First days at Notre Dame HS, timid and scared. Shy around everyone. Trying so hard. And what about 18 and Cloyne Court? I even had Rebecca there with me, yet same thing. I remember pausing behind my doorknob before leaving, breathing in for some air, air that fed the nervous lungs, and stomach and eye that led me outside among the other ones. I feel like that when i do everything still.
I wonder if this is constantly feeding on me, and has kept a steady pace along the years. Is this why it cannot be outgrown? In solitude it keeps still, but i think solitude is only for those people who haven't those stories that you just need to tell.

Yr not cookin!

Why am I such a drama queen? I read my last few posts and shook my head. I can be so dramatic when my feelings are hurt. I probably have become more of a baby since I was actually a baby. That disagreement was solved, which I am happy about because that would have been so difficult to forever lose my favorite friend.



This makes me happy. Made me miss home.
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/gijoe-porkchopsandwiches.html

Ps. A nasty ass black beetle almost flew into my mouth. Uh, i cant wait until winter comes and freezes these mothafuckas....

Hello Again

I woke up too early and I want to go to sleep. This is one thing I really hate to do on a weekend.

In memory of you

dai ichi no .....i forgot the rest...it is the sun...the center of the picture...




This guy below reminded me of you, with the fire behind you.

As I was riding back from the Horai Bridge, I saw this beautiful temple hidden in a garden. I rode inside, park my bike, and had a moment of silence. The king of the Temple, how he later described himself, found me marveling at all the beautiful statues and he spoke to me. He spoke very little English, but I learned his son lives in NY and is a hairstylist. Perhaps this is why he invited me inside to view all of his artifacts from his travels to Tibet, China, Mongolia, India...His books were amazing. I wish you were with me to hear the interesting things he tried to say about them in broken English. He mentioned Tantra, and showed me a book of the Quabalah...when he heard me say "chakrah", his eyes grew wide, and he jumped up to get more books and photo albums. This is just another example of how you've forever influenced my life...i'd have never been in that place, at that time...if it weren't for you.




I kept my promise, and I intend to keep any others. However, this is for your future, and also in recognition of the death of something very dear to me.

A Requiem for the Inaudible Arrival of Autumn

When my grandmother laid on her deathbed in the room right below mine, I would try to understand the things she described. In my denying attempt to comfort her, I would try to distract her by saying positive, life-forcing words. Yet, we both knew her situation was fatal and those last few days would be our last together.

Though she had completely lost her appetite about a week before her departure, she would try to appease my worries by forcing bites of watermelon. Even though we both knew once I would leave the room, her body would again reject such attempts at sustenance. Her body wanted to stop. Such is the way of life into death.

I remember her description of attempting to eat and drink. “It feels fake, mija, the flavors have disappeared and thus any enjoyment has faded. It is pointless.”

This was my first and most powerful lesson on Death.

Very recently, I have again been reminded of those last few days of May 1997. I have felt the subtle beginning of the realization of death’s cycle. A very special belief and part of myself has begun to deteriorate, and once again I am standing at its bedside. This time the thing that is losing strength and refusing to eat is my faith in a very important relationship.

My best friend is a very special person, someone whom I have known for years. We have shared many magical experiences and I always believed that these things had created a bond that was unbreakable. Up until quite recently, I believed that our sentiments were mutually equal. I viewed this person as a brother to me, which in my eyes, constitutes the truest and strongest bonds existent in this life.

Upon my move across the world, I have found that our relationship was not what I thought it was. It was not brotherhood, but rather just friendship after all—which our blood has always proven, yet I would not accept. Though this may not seem like a very sad death to any observers, it is very sad to me, and I mourn it accordingly. It is not as if I am mourning the loss of a brother. My brother has not died—but instead, it is losing something that had never existed in the first place. And when this happens, there is nowhere for the sadness to go—not to the dead, nor in the ground—but only to myself and inside my heart because that was the only place where it was ever real.

So, since I have no real place to go with these remnants of feeling, I come here to the emptiness of cyberspace where my thoughts can go free and continue to float—much in the same way as trash into outer space. Perhaps one day, like the day my mother and I sorted through my grandmother’s worldly possessions, this floating cluster of feeling and explanation will be fumbled through by any other mourners of the non-existence in this world. And then maybe all of our candles and Japanese incense can burn in unison.

Call me narrowminded

"Having the best of both worlds means never having to give loyalty toward either of them."

I woke up today, thinking that. I didn't know that I had such a strong value for loyalty. Nor was I aware that I have pissed off sleep. I love fighting dreams, but not these.

In essence, anger is sadness. How can I be sad when I'm so happy?
I'm five years old again. I think I'm going to stay this way.

I don't want to be that guy who stuck Algernon on that sticky trap and just stared with an full and terrible gaze.

I'm so happy and free, yet I have the heaviest weight on my heart, and it that I am happy and free.

Some people have disappointed me greatly, and sadly, even five year olds understand that much.

Not the Same

here's not the same, there's not the same
you're not the same, they're not the same
and more importantly,
we're not the same
it's not the same
we're not the same
never were,
and never will be again.

Already August

I haven't written in a long time, mostly because i have been exceedingly busy, yet also lazy. I have had my mind filled with so many preparations and plans, that i allowed my other plans melt a little. I wanna talk about my feelings, because i am feeling them now, however, I don't think I will allow myself that any longer. I am going to spend less time on things that spend less time on me. Because i am numero Uno here. Me.

July 4th: An update

I spent quite a bit of time today looking through the memories of this blog, and i was reminded of many things. I read 2004's post for today, and i wanted to add 2005 and 2006's

Last year, I chilled by Oceanside at a family barbecue of Angie's. Moto was there too. I remember sleeping on the beach, in a tent, eating good food, laughing and drinking wine till the wee hours w/ good peeps. I wish i was doing something like that today. Today i feel so empty, like i'm missing something extremely crucial.

yr mouth is a passtime

al pastor loves something spicy
carne asada's only beef
how can i take for serious
when there's toothpicks in yr teeth
birria is really blah

i can't keep lengua on my tongue
but i'd like to see yr something
while yr something is still young
hambuguesa, agua fresca
i might stop to arrest ya
cuz something isn't tasty
unless its done in times so hasty.

Junio Lunio

this month is almost gone and time feels like a head rush hallucination. colors are flying past me as i walk slowly through the greater sever sever land.

in a time of no time, everything would happen before it could happen.
And it was in one of those moments, when The Creature emerged from
the edge of a green, salty lake. its skin was not akin to salt, and
its tears were of fresh water. through the cries of creation, long
lines of black ants pushed their bodies beneath the creature. the
insects made a song of their marching which calmed the child toward
sleep. no mother could awake from such silence. not that creatures
have mothers.

not long until dawn, the blackies had made their way to a grassy
plateau and laid the creature at the foot of a small, immeasurably
deep hole. as mentioned, this was a time of no time, and in no time
at all, moments managed to pass indiscriminately


the ants, nowhere to be seen, insisted harmlessness. helpful even.
some even interpret caring, friendly. after a very long period of
this No Time, the creature had awoken. this creature was not cold,
nor hungry, nor frightened, yet it cried and cried, as the born
often do. ....
believe it or not, this characteristic is as common in creatures
as it is of mortals. the creature was not hot, nor uncomfortable,
nor unsheltered. this creature was merely lonely, and as it flailed
aimlessly upon the grassy plain, it made slices of its fleshy
appendages, cut on the sharpened blades of stiff, unwielding grass.
The Creature's tears were not salty, but its blood was.....and
the ants felt their calling. these soldiers of good intentions thus
began to feast upon the juices of the child, as if it were the bleeding
heart of a freshly opened, and of course, salted watermelon. ...................................
cold and sweet and seeded. Cut into squares, in a clean white bowl,
on the porch of shaded house in southern georgia.

absolute perfection of the white light

I'm Back with the Audioblogger

my medicine

tastes like shit in my mouth,
not yet expired
though sun-stroked to the core
i lay sick on a blanket in the middle of july
delirious in not much of a dream state
the sounds of wings and summer
blow the breeze through thousand little holes

i despise the spoon
and the sorted hand
it hurts my throat
even more when
my mouth is dry, chapped, and lazy
when i am sick
laying like a babe on a sheet in the middle of summer for all the breeze to blow upon

my medicine,
taste like shit
owned by none but me

The Heart

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hand
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.
–Stephen Crane, “The Heart”

Animals Strike Quite Curious Poses

Because Sync is what i call you, and tease is how i call you, and please is what i stall when I want you To Hear.
Let us chat like him to her. Bukowski to his muse.
A drunk to her be-calling. A sage in all the ways.
Be silly, be cautious. Come on, I dare you.

Quite frankly, I dare your here to call my there and challenge the swims who walk.
Challenge the friends who talk. Manage the Something-Elses.
Quite frankly, I dare you! With a stalkin' mare, i fare You!

Truths be Known

I'd tell you the truth cuz if I ever asked you,
Well, Well
I'd be the somber tooth,
I'd leave unasked,
Well

Please keep the one unknown, I'm something tathered, tathered.
Keep quiet, your sharpened tooth
I'm quite like shatter, shatter.

Old SkooL

My father loves the Beatles, and growing up, i listened to alot of their music. Family parties, tapes in the car, etc.
As a teenager, I loved John. Loved.
I'd read many biographies. I watched all the specials.
I don't know what it was, it just was.

John Said it

God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I'll say it again,
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I don't believe in magic,
I don't believe in I-ching,
I don't believe in bible,
I don't believe in tarot,
I don't believe in Hitler,
I don't believe in Jesus,
I don't believe in Kennedy,
I don't believe in Buddha,
I don't believe in mantra,
I don't believe in Gita,
I don't believe in yoga,
I don't believe in kings,
I don't believe in Elvis,
I don't believe in Zimmerman,
I don't believe in Beatles,
I just believe in me,
Yoko and me,
And that's reality.
The dream is over,
What can I say?
The dream is over,
Yesterday,
I was dreamweaver,
But now I'm reborn,
I was the walrus,
But now I'm John,
And so dear friends,
You just have to carry on,
The dream is over.

The Dormancy of Subrosa

Subrosa served as a place to direct the things I had trouble expressing to people. Though read by only a few close friends, I left quite a mess of coded projections of emotion that seems so immature to me now. I'm not dissing the past, only marveling at it. I plan on continuing to post during the times when I feel like my old self. However, now, I have made a new place for us to share. Would you like to join me on my adventures? Come, lets go

Compound words: Past Time

Disclaimers: 1)Talking about your list of chores and things to do is not interesting to other people. 2)Drunken ramblings are even worse unless y're divulging embarrassing information about yourself. 3)"Whateva, I do what i want." 4)The more seriously you take me, the stupider you are, and good luck with the consequences.5) Oh, and this Azarius guy managed to sell the fuck out only days after I discovered him. Where's that big database full of funny ass stories? If you find it, let me know.





I'm sitting here drinking beer, Michelob Ultra, if you really want to know. I'm reading the most interesting shit I've found in a while.....He's Halarious
Seriously folks, it fucking great. I wanna marry a nigga......
Okay, so here I am, totally ignoring the serious shit that I need to do, and well, this will give me a chance to actually state it.
You don't want to hear this, so just copy and paste that damn ass link so that you can be entertained while I focus on some shit.

Things I need to Do:
1)Do my fucking laundry. I'm wearing the stupidest outfits. I am seriously sporting pajama pants with form fitting, thing cotton sweaters.

2)Hook my Ipod to this USB port. Why is this the only way I can charge that fucker? It's seriously driving me crazy. Obviously my laptop sucks if it takes a night to charge one fourth of a battery.

3) Make a list of chores. Seriously, I need to go to the gym in the mornings. I am least likely to meet these demands if I spend my nights hanging out in my dad's room reading blogs, and internet stalking lame-os. Seriously though, that Azerius guy is so not a lame-o. Like i said, "marry a nigga".....

4) I need to ORGANIZE.....I need to begin getting addresses and emails from friends so that I have people to harass when I'm bored. I also want to keep contact with the motherfucking motherland.


5) I need to think about packing. I don't think often. I don't really need to think about this.

5) I need to pay my bills. I haven't made a financial plan in over 2 weeks. You'd think this was extrenuous, but it's really not. I buy legos from thrift stores because they are constructed into clever, airplane-like shapes. I'm a buying mess. I buy plants, that I know I will kill, just cause they've got an unusual shape that I can marvel at for more than 40 seconds.

6) These things aren't even the sort of topics I consider while I drive home, planning my afternoon. I'm just making it up as I go along. And it distracts me. You see, i'm a non-smoker, who needs to head outside for a moment. I need a change of pace.

7) I still can't stop thinking bout that nigga.......

8) Call me racist, but i think that nigga outta be on TV. He needs his own show.

9) I'm worried that my Dad is going to come home and make me ashamed of drinking BIRU. There ain't nothing wrong with beer on a Tuesday night. Nothing.

10)

Nihongo benkiyo shimas

Today, I went to the toshiyokan and borrowed a whole mess of language CDs. I put them on my Ipod. They will learn me good.

If.....

If I were to believe that I would be understood, then i'd send this. But I will not be understood, so i hold my horses indefinitely.....
I'd write:

I was severely mistaken. I honestly believed you knew me, or that you had the capacity to understand the words I sent to you. I'm greatly disappointed. A light has been casted over my eyes that will change my perspectives incredibly. That is exactly the pindrop of which I needed to hear in order to pop the bubble i kept you in.
You have it wrong, friend. I said everything I meant to say in my last letter, nothing more and nothing less than how i feel.

My feeling of unappreciation does not come from the absence of physical intimacy. In fact, I do not and never have wanted to have sex with you. To you, it may have appeared so by the fact that I referred to others with that relationship in my previous email. And that I have made drunken advances that, believe me, i had thoroughly regretted both because of my embarrassment for my behaviour, and also that i acted in a way that I would never do sober, despite any circumstance. Believe it or not, I have never desired you in this way despite loving you and loving every other intimacy we share. I could say more to convince you, but i'd rather not.


And i know that myspace thing was unintentional. And that i over-reacted....and that valerie really is yr best friend. honestly, i know that....she has been an unwavering presence always on yr side, during those stupid high school dramas...while i, on the other hand, listened to the stupid rumors, and while not knowing you, judged you like every other idiot. i know those things are so important to you. And beside that, you idolize her personal and sexual freedom almost in the way that you did J...only, that valerie would never...ever...fuck you over. Then on top of that...she's the bomb and funny. You see, i know this....i can't be jealous of this, it's so pure....and honestly i'm not jealous.



All i was trying to say is that i cannot tolerate being thought of as less than i am.
I felt stupid and powerless, when i momentarily thought that while I swore almost absolute allegiance to you and to protecting yr feelings, (ex. keeping with yr requests to monitor my conversations with janine/promising to myself to be as bitchy as possible to J. if and when i see her/and other stuff that i don't want to keep listing) that you think nothing or so little of mine in return. i know, i know....it wasn't intentional....but still, you didn't think of me at all.

And, rather than be placated, catered to, felt sorry for, or lied to, i'd rather just feel okay to do what i want without worrying so much about how it would affect you. I'll never intentionally hurt you, or backstab you or anything like that, nothing like that, i promise...but i will just try to go back to doing whatever i want without any regards to how you might feel about it. Like our relationship back in the day.....civil and uncomplicated.

What happened to everything?

I exposed my recent feelings of hurt in a letter. I thought it said one thing, and yet it was perceived much differently. That is the way of interpersonal relationships. Us humans are merely islands with only ourselves to understand us.

Subconscious or What?

So when was the 19th? A week ago? Yes, last Wednesday. I sat here, in my desk and practically predicted something terrible. Someone told me about a white gummy bear smoothie. What the hell is that? What is up with this world?

My New Way

It does not feel nice to follow through with passion-aggression. It makes me feel as jittery as coffee. If somebody gets me angry, I usually try to respond in a semi-calm fashion. If the action seems petty, I become annoyed with myself for reacting with anger toward something deemed unimportant. In these cases, I am less likely to express any anger or annoyance. However, that does not mean the the feelings disintegrate. No, only time heals my evil eye. Instead, I will either consciously or subconsciously reflect some reciprocal manner of revenge.
Now, that may sound harsher than I intend. Revenge is such a strong word in this day and age. All I mean, is if somebody excludes me, undermines me, betrays me, etc, then I will keep it in my memory, and not hesitate to do onto others when the opportunity presents itself. It is of this practice, in which I am ashamed. It does not feel satisfying to proceed with passion-aggression.
I want to try a new way. I want to get over my embarrassment of these "child" feelings I experience every so often. By "child" feelings, I am refering to those sulky impulses I feel when I feel blown off, under-appreciated, or inferior. I also refer to the ragey feelings when somebody questions my intelligence, or humiliates my self pride. In these instances, it can be difficult to locate exactly what element of the situation made you feel a certain way. I say this because of my strong conviction that nobody or nothing can "make" you feeling anything. It is my belief that our feelings come from our reaction to the nobody or nothing.
The main reason I believe this is attributed to the existence of an infinite amount of reactions. If somebody makes an insulting comment, it totally depends on your previous experiences as to how you would react. If many people have made that same insulting comment since childhood, you may react like how you did as a child, with childish vulnerability and in-comprehension. If this is the first time anyone has ever made the comment, and it is a stranger, you may have little to no emotional reaction, instead it may remain as purely an intellectual reaction. Duh! Right?
Right.
So, based on my belief that nobody can truly make me feel anything, how can I blame others and seek my revenge upon them when it is something inside of me that creates these feelings. In theory, I cannot even truly reach anybody through these acts of revenge, unless their response system is wired in my intended benefit. What I mean, is that how I can make another feel like how I feel by reciprocating similar actions? The answer is, that I cannot, because it is not I who holds control of their reaction to me, it is something inside of them. Although, on one hand, many people do not hold control of their own reactions, and instead give permission and control to others. Very dangerous. At least, in my opinion.
My solution will be to identify: 1)what reactionary feelings I may be feeling, 2)what actions in others or in myself caused this feeling 3)why this action is connected to this feeling. After I finish with identification, I will respond. I will tell the person or myself how a specific action caused a certain feeling. I feel not feel childish in being reminded that it may be similar as to how i felt as a child. I will remember that feelings cannot be helped, and are harmful if kept inside.
WoaH, when I wrote this I felt wrong. I felt that many times feelings shows vulnerability, and this weakness can be manipulated.
When i tell the person how an action made me feel, I will tell them that I am not okay with it. I will tell them that I don't like to have my feelings hurt. And in the future, I will avoid a similar situation where they will have the opportunity to influence my reactions, even if this means avoiding them. My lesson that I must learn is that if somebody makes me feel more bad than good, then they are not good for me. I'm tired of pretending. I just want to be straight-forward, and get on with things.

i like that kind

There are people in this place who are up for anything. If they see a party on the roof of a 20 story building, they will find their way up there and let nobody stop them. They wear disguises, share shinanigans, and shake the chicken cages.

i see yr hate slipping through

it flies down your eyes to your soup
i can see your hate slipping through
you want me to hurt, i can hear it in the way
you stake your claim
and throw the blame.

I can't breathe. It is too strong.
I'm not relieved with the way you've made believed.
Was that confetti? or betrayal.
i almost can't stand.
I said almost.
you just don't get it,
and won't.

The Sharpest Knife

the sharpest knife cuts both ways,
through threads, heads and beds
and burns my ears with liquor store meds.

bad moon rising

I'm afraid that what i've been feeling is what i swore could never happen. You know, that's why they warn about swearing. I didn't really think that this is what it was in reference to, but i think it may just be. We are not the same, and the coiling coincidences are only shadows and mirrors that summon and reflect the very true opposite natures. No give, no receive. No here, no there. No, it is everywhere, the ashes fly everywhere because i believe in the wind, and its big fat mouth.

Oh, no, fool's moon

"is los angeles really like a graveyard,
they all ask me
and i say well it was last week
but man that was in the past
see, i stopped going to the places
where the people act so nasty
and pretentious cuz i'm happy
sitting with my friend on the sidewalk singing songs


and some people are still standing
in the way of where i'm going
so i say please excuse me
step aside or keep on moving
and i guess they sense that my momentum
meant that i was winning
but i'm only just beginning
and i'd rather go with friends than go alone.

and some people grab my hands
and some people grab my shirt
some people race ahead
to see if they can get there first
some people stay behind because
they've got something else in mind
whatever you decide, if yr true
y're going to be alright."---that one girl with edits

To Do

My thoughts are set in modern age stone.

I read the news today, oh boy

Those stars have much to say/meany meany meany
about you/mynee mynee mynee
i couldn't help but listen
to their strokes of divination
i called them liars
but i was only avoiding
the unavoidable. you nor i
can fight the pulleys of prison.

Lunch Break at Trader Joe's

If you happen to stop by Trader Joe's on your lunch break, I would suggest that you buy the stuffed red peppers. They are located in the prepared refrigerated food section, above the salads. Check them out. Tasty. My mouth is stuffed full of it right now, and i'm happy.

Blame the Coffee

"I've got bigger fish to fry."---I have always found that idiom quite amusing. The few times I've used it, I haven't been able to finish the statement without laughing. I find it funny, for some unknown reason. At first, I thought that it was because fish are always humorous, and well, the act of frying is even more halarious. I doubt it would be entertaining if the saying were "i've got bigger fries to fry." I mean, you could only cut a potato so big. And generally, fish are bigger than potatoes. I guess i just like the idea that there are always grander, more important crimes happening around you, which is comforting when you are concentrating on the big injustice done onto you. It's an idiom that is there to remind you that you or your enemies are only small fish. I don't make sense, and i know it.

My New Ipod

Is already broken. What's up with that?

Little Fates

Now that I am clearer on how my near future will be going, I can make adequate plans.
My number one when I found out: buy new Ipod. I decided to go with the 30gb instead of the 60 because I'm not sure I'll even use that much space. And seriously, it's freakin' expensive. My brother claims that you can fit a whole movie in 1 gb. Anyway, first goal. I wanted to buy a ticket to NY for a weekend, but I'm just not sure if that's a good financial type of idea. I need to get my finances in order, that that was the reason for this post, but my mind is too crazy. Maybe i'll spend that time thinking about money at the gym. My brain is always at the height of its activity when i'm on that damn elliptical. I'm excited about my new ipod.

yuck

Last night I dreamt that Fatty was found out. Why? I don't know. But i woke up on my stomach, with my hands crossed and my arms numb. I wasn't hearing my alarm, and i had little balance when i jumped to my feet. Okay, i didn't really jump. I guess I sort of rolled and stood up, at a somewhat swift speed.

Dream for Fatty

For a very long time now, I feel like I had little control over both my weaknesses and desires. Technically, i could classify my desires as a weakness in the whole Buddhist sense of thought, but I see them a little differently. I desire objects and situations that I have never even attempted to truly achieve, and in result it brought upon obsession and heartache. My dream for fatty is to sort through every subdivision of desire, and find the ones with the lowest and biggest branches so that I can find the best way to climb up my tree. I know that there is no objective path to clarity and happiness. And as far as I am concerned there is little congruency between the two. My personal goal

New Name for a New Game

I decided to change my URL for the following reasons:
1) My wish to heighten security upon my feelings. I believe that if I have less of the already small audience that i already had, I might find it easier to be a little more honest. Of course, I always had my drafts, but you see, I'd like to flirt with the edge. I like to keep the possibility open that I might be found out.
2) I am changing the direction of my postings. I have noticed that alot of my angry posts are not really to the invisible "you", but really to myself. I've begun a new path where I am seeking to learn of my potential. I have been very weak in the past, and I am working to change that in every aspect that I can recognize. The main area of this fight is with my image. I am working to change how i view myself and my self worth, and these are my dreams for fatty.
3)I needed some alone time.

Year of the Rabbit

Innocence does not allow u-turns. ---facecious, the fortune cookie

There's this story that my mom likes to tell. It involves our pet rabbit, nameless. Well, i don't remember his name, because im not sure whether i really cared. I wish i could find the old albums with the picture of me locked in his cage, crying. Well, unbeknownst to me, we ate him for dinner one night. I was told the next day. I was told that it didn't phase me. Perhaps, because i didn't understand death or, rather, mental cruelty.
My favorite time to tell this story is right after my mother tells her favorite story of how she taught the lesson of curiosity vs. the cat. She runs through how i went on and on about how i was a rabbit, and how i wished to live in my rabbit's cage. So, to teach the lesson on why one should never wish to be something that they are not, she approaches me, playing in the cage. "So you wanna be a rabbit?" "Yes." "I can make you a rabbit" "Really?" "Ya, here you go, now you're a rabbit." Meanwhile, locking up the cage and running into the house.
And sure enough, i react like a big, scared baby. I cry.
"Mommy, mommy, i don't want to be a rabbit anymore." "I'm not a rabbit, i'm a girl, i'm a GIRL!!!!"
Oh, i know what yr thinking....fuckin' halarious. Ya, i know. And that's why i almost consider having children.

i h**e the clever ones cuz i suspect foul and false play. So funny, So fine,
you'll be old in no time. once they catch u in their teeth, once they behold yr fancy things, you'll be old in no time. i was told that all you need is love, but all they had were drugs and i don't see no love around here.
if i destroyed, then fine.....
i want back all that is mine:
poprocks, angel hair and fool's gold.

I byte

What i do at work.

My Horoscope makes me Sad

This influence signifies a time of severe testing in your relationships with others. The demands of your work or the demands of your personal life will force you to reevaluate which relationships in your life are worth keeping and which are not. If you do not face this challenge consciously, the pressure of events will force you to do so, because people who have been with you for a long time will leave against your wishes.
There is often a strong tendency to build a wall between you and others without even realizing it. The only way you will know is that suddenly you will feel alone and out of touch with everybody. You may feel that you have no support from others, even loved ones whom you have counted on in the past for love and support. This may represent a temporary state of affairs or a passing mood. Or it may represent a serious breakdown in your relationships because of misplaced priorities in the past or because of associating with people who were wrong for you in terms of your personal goals and needs.


In the case of misplaced priorities, perhaps you have paid more attention to getting ahead in life than to giving and receiving love. Or perhaps in the past, fear of your own inadequacies or fear that you are unlovable has made you withdraw from others. Now the consequences of these problems are emerging, causing you to feel alone.

In the second case, the problem is that in terms of your direction in life, the people you associate with are a distraction or are actually opposed to your interests. In this case, no matter how much you love them, walls will form between you and them, and you will have to begin a new life without them.

With this influence several significant relationships will inevitably end. But if you have a clear idea of where you are going, this will not be a great disadvantage. Whatever remorse you feel will be quickly displaced by a new sense of freedom, because you are no longer wasting energy in trying to maintain inappropriate relationships.



The interpretation above is for your transit selected for today:
Saturn Square Ascendant

death of my space

Today i killed myspace. It made me feel very uncomfortable. This "blog" also supplies me with the same feeling. But i cannot kill this. This serves as the cave of my lost memories. I like that you read it, even when you pretend not to.

all on accounts

i'm gonna be free
i'm gonna be free
of at least one of these three things
i'm gonna be free

thirteen spirits of the ocean top
the wetness of the restroom mop
and a heart that can never stop
heartin' away

i'm gonna be free
i'm gonna be free
of at least one of these two things
i'm gonna be free

to be the feast of insatiable beasts
and to linger, longer inbetween
either that or make believe
a dreamer of dreams and deceit

i'm gonna be free
i'm gonna be free
of at least this one little thing
i'm gonna be free

entranced upon the lights of preen
and the mirrors that bring them back to me
of at least this little thing
i'm gonna be free

Tautology 101

The pursuit of happiness seems to be the antithesis to the "meaning of life". Happiness was dreamt of in the early industrial period of modern, firstworld countries to replace the idea of calm and natural simplitude for a complicated model of machinery that confuses the mind.

The invention and distribution of the automobile has given people the mobility to amass together at any given whim. It no longer takes a 20 day wagon trek to reach the ones you want to see. These days, it is a 2 hour flight, or a collect call or instant message. These conveniences steal away from the growth of longing for estranged friends and loved ones. Why send letters with drawings and pictures when there's the FWD:Message, and why even call when there is text? The modern everyday use of these amenities creates a lack of personal drive to connect to anyone. To miss and to long for is no longer the motivation for communication. We now have other things to replace the space for sentimentality, sincerity, and intimacy.

But this is not the only arena to where the clouds have gathered. This is only where I begin. I am a sham, and have a quote to express just that.

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation." Ironically and admittedly so, I know not the author.


I hate myspace, i hate my blog. I grow ashamed of my impotent flow of curiousity that navigates my mouse around its wearing pad. I don't like this matrix-esque network of bodyless and unconstrained ego. People begin to substitute their myspace feelings with the feelings of my space. I begin to think of intermediaries as acquaintances and my true friends as but top 8 billboard marketing and political statements. And i rarely look anyone in the eye anymore.

I am not going to cease my behavior, though. And neither will you. You are going to continue comparing your real life to their fake profiles, and I am going to continue contrasting my recycled garbage posts with similar, yet not as elequent angry prose. I'll have to spend more time trying to harnessing my strengths in order to break away from the shells that I, you, and everybody else has casted upon us all.
And this ain't even the beginning, i've got a whole buttload of shit to splatter on these interspacial, matterless "pages", but i have work to complete, so that i may get paid, and buy more things that will make me feel more like a real human being.

"I can resist everything except temptation."---and well, this one i know, good ol' wilde.

AMs

"People do not wish to appear foolish; to avoid the appearance of
foolishness, they are willing to remain actually fools."

I feel like a fool habitually. I will admit that. And, actually I will admit anything else should i be asked in a responsible manner. I like the appearance of having much to hide without any of the cunning that lifestyle requires. My dreams give it away to me while my eyes to you. I did not intend to leave my post for so long. There, now it is less obvious. I have many plans to dote upon now, farewell.

PG-13

[ We were in the back of a large U-haul-esque truck. We were propped and cushioned on furniture. I don't know who was driving, i'm sure it doesn't matter. My head was on yr shoulder. It was night time. We were finally there, we let ourselves out. We were the only thing that could focus. It was me who leaned in. Of course, right? Right. You kissed for a bit. Then you pushed me down by my shoulders. I lost my balance and fell onto the concrete. The street scraped my hands. I believe you said "no". But i wasn't listening anymore. By then, i only laughed. I was able to control my laugh, and i laughed at you, forever dumb. ]


{em0tion is dead}---its gone to my head. if you were to ever ask...it is this in which i dream of you. i barely even recognize this haunted, hollow holiday anymore.

Butterball

I wouldn't be surprised if you were to tell me that the real reason you left it like that was because of the butterball. Status like that isn't in very high demand, and you're a businessman. I've watched you in action, alive in yr tie, and webby. I'm embarrassed to say so. You'd be embarrassed too if you hadn't that ego.

Decisions

I am having trouble deciding whether to drink my 2nd Pyramid Hefeweizen, or save it for my dad. You see, I really want that beer. It has been in the fridge since Tuesday, and today is Friday. I bought the 12er in attempt to have some nice classy beer around for relaxing after an annoying day's work. Only, I drank 7 of them immediately. No, not alone. I mean, environmentally I was alone. However, i was speaking to friends over the phone, so it's all good, right. Not pathetic, right? When my father came home that night, (the decision has been made, I'm about to get up from my seat and walk to the refrigerator). Done, it is in my mouth.

However, I was saying, that when my father came home, he was excited by the HefeWeizen. I had only introduced him to it about a week ago at Applebees. We go there, sometimes, but only because of its proximity, never for the environment. Before I knew it, he had the Heff in a large stein and a lemon floating in the head. It was cute. So, you see, i am a very selfish person with alcoholic tendencies. I very much wanted to save it for my dad, because it would make him much more happy than i feel as I take the drink during this.....pause. I drink to unfocus important concerns and turn focus to trivial, yet discomforting topics. But I must stray, because my original intent was to make a decision, and I managed to succeed in that one venture.

The Gentle Cycle

Some mistakes I make on purpose, so that I will have something to do and somewhere to go. I've been in the secret room with all those pictures on the wall and fire on the floor. I am too curious to be afraid. I find ways around the fear. I'm too stubborn and tricky to be defeated, especially by someone as awkwardly uncouth as myself. All those secrets stem from a worry that the true self is unfit for where it lies, thereby smothered in the desire to keep it from all the others. Hidden from anyone who cares enough to think? No. Hidden from me? No. I'm as transparent as a mirror image. I was formed of my surroundings. I am a product of the ebb of nurture and the flow of suture. Pardon my opinion, for it is nothing but mere consequence and conjecture. Leave me alone, and i will explain minutes before my last breath, should i be given the chance. I'd relinquish more if i hadn't been told that i was being watched. I was told i was no good at pretend. Little did they know, that i was only pretending to pretend. No, i wasn't. I just wanted to write something that would draw attention away from my last post. Only now, it causes greater attention. There, an example of pretending to pretend. Goodnight my sweet nothing, you are everything, in disguise.

Draft

Makes me feel so dirty, so petty, so shamefully honest. I can just imagine yr reaction if you were to read the things i write you in draft. It would take yr breath away. Yes, love, in the Berlin way. Yr reaction would be nothing but stutter. You'd hate me for making you hate me, the only defense that you could possibly muster. You would have no choice. You would make yr masturbation face.
No, not the cute one! No, dear, but the perverted, twisted look that terrorizes yr fuzzy shower mirror.

Can you imagine just what i would have done to you, had i not this hideous case of subterraneous self-confidence? How unlucky for you, to have to bask in the repercussion of an unfortunately lonely, shameful childhood. I'm not complaining, for i'm just fine! I have plenty to read.

Traffic vs. Tofu

You can think through traffic.
Tofu demands attention.
Traffic has a shelf life.
Tofu has a shelf life.
Tofu is white.
Traffic is colorful.
Music and tofu mix.
Music and traffic mix.
Traffic has no flavor.
Tofu has no flavor.
Tofu is never consistant. Soft, medium, firm.
Traffic is always consistant. Stop, go, stop, go.
Tofu steals all the action.
Traffic has no action.
Tofu and black beans.
Traffic and exhaust streams.
Traffic is loud.
Tofu is mild.
Tofu is the way of L.A.
Traffic is the way of L.A.
30 minutes of traffic makes me hungry.
30 minutes of tofu keeps me full.

CK-1

We haven't been friends for many years, however, i bet she really enjoyed "The Virgin Suicides". Sisters, isolation and sex in the back seat. I'm almost sure that she didn't voice her feelings of congruency. She's too macho-feminine for that type of trash.

Joint property

"there's no time, there's never enough time."--Jessie Spano

My Little Secret

Has grown teeth and gangrene. Life too afraid to even dare touch veins. it waits in the bottom of the puddle in an alley, slimming on its own slipe. throwing tantrums, cage in swing, buttering up the milk like a broody little thing. Dropping aces, jacks and queens. Let us bet on better things!

Girlhood

I'm a little teapot. Short and stout. Here is my handle, here is my spout. When I

get all steamed up, then I shout. Just tip me over, and pour me out.

Condemned to Freedom from, Freedom to

Relating to others is possible, but only within the limits of shared experiences. Woman is totally free and responsible for her acts. This responsibility is the source of the dread and anguish that encompasses womankind. Abandonment is the consequence of individualism. Alienation is a state of divided selfhood in which one is distanced from one's true being and confronts the self as an alien being. And nobody is authentic. You can not be authentic for more than an instant, frozen in time. Because of social pressure, individualism is rejected by you in favor of conformity. Thus, you rely on mainly upon the actions of others and neglect the meaning of yr own personal life. You see yr life as meaningles and feel the inner void.

"To continue in a blind state causes the increases in distractions such as alcoholism, delinquency and suicide. Freedom, however, is only in the choice of one possibility---that is, in tolerating one's not having chosen the others and one's not being able to choose them." --Heidegger

An almost Goodnight

I figured that if I'm not going to be drinking anymore, that i'm gonna look elsewhere for my courage. So I decided to go through my blog and post my drafts. I suppose i'm still not that brave if I won't expose my secret fantasy blog. Whatever, i guess there's no reason to care since most of the audience i address doesn't even read this. Perhaps the point is that it is there if they cared. So ya, goodnight, almost.

My Butterfly Effect

Every decision has consequences and what will be mine? I was told I am notorious for that sort of thing. I want love in the form of distraction. I want anonymity. I didn't want this road, and this wasn't "in flight". This is, my friend, the fight.
I love you. Like I want to marry you, love you. Like when I wake up in the middle of the night to your hand in the air, asleep, quiet, innocent and i kiss you. It is unbearable. Love feels like torture. For this reason,i cannot live here in your world, full time. This is the fight.
It would have been easy to stay. Comfortable, expected and lethargic. You do not love me like I do you. Oh no, it's okay, i understand. In fact, karma owes me a lot more than that, don't you think? Ain't no thing, sugar wing. It was good to hear it out loud. It was very good. You made it real, like it needed to be. It was good to hear all that you said, all that you did. You've never been so real before. I finally made you be mean to me. It is what, secretly, i always wanted, you know. It felt delicious. Isn't that awful? For this, i am thoroughly ashamed.

I will be honest. I love your world. The things you see with your eyes and describe with yr mouth are beautiful and sarcastic and hilarious. Even in its flaws, yr perspective is breathtaking. Though it keeps me forever facinated, this world is not mine. Yr dreams are not my dreams, and to live in yr illusion is no good for me. Because as long as I remain entranced by yr imaginary universe, i will make no dreams of my own. As long as I marvel at love, i ignore the love that I lack. The longer I lay in our slumbers, the less i know what wake is. It is this that is the fight.

Here, on this road, i fight the numbness of mundanity, I fight acute lonliness, i fight platicity, i fight my own dose of self-loathing, i fight traffic. Here, i will make friends, make love, make my cakes and eat them too. Isn't that the way? The murkier the lake, the sweeter the flower? I lost track of my original plan that I had made for myself, the plan I was doing so well with before i moved up there. My head has muted my heart for now, but she will be out again, soon enough.

If you've ever wondered what the difference is between a lover and the loved is, it is that one cries for themself while the other cries for them. I am guilty of both.

Plans for TOnight

I am going to put on my coat and slippers, grab my keys and walk myself down to Walgreens. I will purchase a pack of Parliaments for 4 dollars and sixty seven cents. Then I will walk outside, light my smoke and think of how i want to tell this story that's been stuck in my head since December 29th, 2005.

Twenty-Six

I will probably remain the most immature kid on my block. There are a few semi-explanations though they are tired and unrelenting. First, i am intimidated yet moreso despising of comfortability. If i want action, i can't depend on others to give it to me. Though, on the other hand, just an excuse. It's just that the other actions aren't as simple to work through, it's just that if you want something done right, then you have to do it yourself. The funny thing about that though, is that if something may go wrong or awry then there's no one else to blame.
Creating a scene, and not in a funny Elaine-type way either, makes the reason that twenty six must remain twenty six. To grow older, yes, however to grow younger, never. Immature has gotten me to where I am right now, and so you just gotta learn to live with it if you wanted something else to matter just so as much.