| 100 Words |
[Sep. 3rd, 2006|11:11 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  cynical | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "We Tigers" - Animal Collective | ] |
I see him as we pull into the parking lot. My heart thrashes against my chest, but I’m yanked into the store. Window, window, must find window. Finished. Dash out door. Frantic, frantic, everything frantic. Stumble closer, calling his name. Voice cracking. Throat tightens. Can’t shout loud enough. He gets up. She gets up. Head spinning. He holds her, eyes soften, hands dangerously crawl up sweater. Can’t stop watching. Must stop watching. Still murmuring his name. Spit it out. Swallow it and keep it safe inside. Broken heart halves squeeze up into my throat, plummet down to cold asphalt. Crushed. |
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| 100 words. |
[Sep. 2nd, 2006|11:33 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "The Engine Drive" - The Decemberists | ] |
Free to be a child. Free to laugh, to skip, to sing. Free to climb big solid branches up to airy tree tops, to recklessly jump across a hopscotch on one foot, to crawl around on the earth floor searching for fragile insects. Free to stomp in dismal puddles, to mash grass stains onto knees of ragged pants, to have more popsicle juice on cheeks and chins and sticky fingers than in bottomless stomachs. Free to play tic-tac-toe during church services, to find pennies on sidewalks and feel rich, to endure a grueling twenty minutes of practicing spelling and math. |
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| Prince Charming |
[Aug. 26th, 2006|07:34 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  refreshed | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "Green Eyes" - Coldplay | ] |
I was reading through my journal and found this from 8/12/06. I read it over a few times and got a strong impulse to post it...
"... I want someone to hold me, wrap his arms around me and melt in the surrounding warmth and comfort of his familiar scent. I want to have someone to dress up for, who will notice that my hair looks good and appreciate the outfit I had to rip everything out of my closet for. I want someone who I can feel completely comfortable with, and who I can swap worries or concerns with and with a few words, everything is better. I want someone who can turn my day upside down no matter how bad it's going, just by calling or showing up. I want someone to stroke my hair and kiss my nose and tell me how beautiful I am. I want someone to encourage and support me, and know that they truly believe in me. I want someone who tests my limits, makes me look at the world differently, inspires me to be more philosophical or creative or strong. Someone who can make me a better me. I want to be wanted. I want to know that someone thinks of me and dreams of me, and I want someone to think and dream about as well. I want someone who inspires me to write them letters by hand, burn them cds of songs that remind me of them, or just call them to hear their voice and feel loved and secure and blissfull and beautiful. I want to love them. I want to feel out of control flying recklessly through each day towards the very thought of his certain embrace. I want to be swept off my feet and feel honored and in complete awe of everything about him. I want to be able to wear his jacket proudly and bask in the flecks of his scent left on my skin for the rest of the day. I want someone who can fuel me, and who I can fuel, to be a better, funnier, more genuine and open person. I want to only know him. Have nothing else matter but the feel of his voice through your entire body. I feel like such a hopeless romantic, but I honestly cannot help it... Help me! Find me! I'm losing hope." |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 14th, 2006|05:38 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | contemplative | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "The Softest Voice" - Animal Collective | ] |
I've decided that I'm going to "ride the current of life's river" rather than swim against it. It's true. Lately, I've been extremely confused as to who I am becoming...
One day I'm in a little floral blouse and skirt listening to Belle and Sebastian and blowing dandilions.
The next day I'm wearing my Miss Salute army dress with jeans listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and prowling around feeling tough and confident.
The next thing I know, it's Sugarplastic or the Aquabats and I'm wearing hot pink sunglasses and a boa while dancing around my room and making faces in the mirror.
Of course, then there's Broken Social Scene which brings out artsy moi, and all of a sudden I smell oil paints (weird?) and feel like going all out funky.
I listen to Cake and want to be the girl with the mind like a diamond who has eyes that burn like cigarettes and won't be pushed into the stupid submissive housewife role.
Ani Difranco makes me contemplative and curious and philosophical with long chunky necklaces and flowy floor length skirts.
I hear the Epoxies or the Dresden Dolls and I want to slip on a punky funky dress and be bold and seductive and spontaneous and go out to dance with a complete stranger.
It's really... bizarre. It's as though the music I listen to and the things I wear dictate my mood and what kind of person I am. The plus side: Listening to just about any music for long enough will automatically put me in a good mood. Does anyone else get this? It's... really kind of creeping me out, and although I guess it's always sort of been that way since I've expanded my music tastes, I'm just starting to notice it now. Anyways, this entry certainly swayed off the track I thought it was going to take. But, whatever. It's cool. I'm listening to Animal Collective, so nothing can really be that big of a deal now, can it? :P |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 14th, 2006|04:37 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | pensive | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "Stars and Sons" - Broken Social Scene | ] |
Sometimes
- I
--- Feel
----- Like
------- I'm
--------- Falling
----------- But
------------- Then
--------------- I
------------- Wake
----------- Up
--------- And
------- Realize
----- It
--- Was
- My
Dream
-------- Was
---------- It
------------ Really? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 3rd, 2006|05:00 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | indifferent | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "Fade into You" - Mazzy Star | ] |
I wish some people could see life for what it is. See the simple beauty it holds and take time to stop and smell the flowers. It's not ment to be rushed through or scrambled to the top of. Sure you want to get somewhere, but making the most of life doesn't mean getting as far as you possibly can. This is why I am not like my father. Sure I have his hair, his eyes, his toothpick figure, but personality and belief wise, forget pages, we are on a completely different book. It's so hard to get along with him sometimes, because we have nothing to talk about and when we do, it's usually awkward or ends abruptly. I don't know what's happened. I don't think I've hugged him in at least four years. It's kind of upsetting to think about it. I've lived with him for sixteen years, and I feel like I can barely talk to him. If we're sitting in the car, we usually just play music so we don't have to think about the silence. Music taste, for the most part, is the one thing we have in common besides our phenotypes. I feel really bad for him. He works so hard all day in an office in front of a computer screen so that his family can live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood and afford nice furniture and good food. He does it for us. My mom, my brother, and me. I'm so thankful, but at the same time I am almost upset. When he dies, I hope he's happy. I hope he feels he's lived a fulfilled and meaningful life. I know I could never live the way he does. But, maybe it's okay with him. Maybe that's how he feels he can make a difference, and he feels better when he's at work. I honestly don't know. I am so jealous of all the girls who have Daddy to batt their eyelashes at and give a peck on the cheek to, and he'll buy them their new designer whatnot. Not that I would do that, but just to know he's there and he loves me. I guess I know my dad loves me, but he sometimes just... has a hard time expressing it? Whatever. I just hope I don't end up like him when I grow up. I know it sounds harsh, but I don't know how else to put it. My dream is to do what I love and have fun and make life as enjoyable as possible no matter how much money I make, because you know what? In the end, you won't remember what that week's paycheck was. You'll remember the feeling of satisfaction and fullness you came home with every day. I think that has a lot to do with it. It's all about feeling satisfied, and jobs which are paycheck driven provide a quick fix on Fridays. You feel satisfied that you're climbing the ladder and making the money, but it's like having one of those worms living in your stomach. The more you eat to ease your hunger, the worse it gets as you help the worm grow. As for the relationship between my dad and I, I don't think it will ever be as strong as it could be. But, I hope that he's okay with his lifestyle and knows that while he can't be there for me as a friend or mentor figure, he has changed my life. Hell, he has given me life. He has worked the way he has so that I can go to a good school and live a comfortable life. I suppose I just worry about him... which means I love him, right? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 3rd, 2006|01:47 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | mellow | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "Just Like Heaven" - The Cure | ] |
Previously posted at ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) irisblues
I feel like this is a good way to start this off...
"I find it really intriguing how the world is made up of a ton of overlapping memories and lives. Like, one person could look at a big tree in the park and think about how he and his girlfriend had their first kiss under its branches and feel happy, while another person could look at the same tree and think about how he fell out of that tree onto his back and was permanently paralyzed and feel sad, while yet another person could look at the tree and feel indifferent because they have no memory attached to it. If only they knew how many memories and feelings that tree brought about. I often think about this on the bus on the way home from school. I look into little pockets in the woods and tell myself that someone somewhere has that exact place mean something to them. And no one would ever know. I think that it kind of unifies us, but we don't really realize it. Everyone with so many memories and places. To me, Starbucks will always be the place where I sat in Patrick's lap and later felt awkward and frustrated, but to others it could be where they go to treat themselves to a cup of coffee after winning a swim meet, or where they met Mr. Right but let him get away and now come back a few times each week just in case he's there. I like it. It's kind of scary to think that no one in the entire world will ever have the same set of memories and their linked objects as you. Like, once you die, they're gone forever and nobody will know. I feel like I should write them all down so that they won't be lost. So that they can be remembered and sort of live on. But, still no one would understand. I don't even know if they would understand this. This concept and how much it means to me. Even though I've known all along that I am unique and there is only one of me in the world, I all of a sudden understand that significance on such a deeper level. I feel independent, aloof, solitary, and like I have a huge responsibility. Right now at this very second, someone is crying over the phone, someone is having sex, someone is having a baby, someone is dying. It would be comforting for me to know that someone is thinking that somewhere someone is writing about something she has always felt but never expressed. I would feel secure, and strangely, loved. Am I a romantic? Am I being too sentimental? I don't know. I just love the idea of one simple object that has given so many people so many experiences and memories. And then to think of the object's own history. Maybe it was molded in a factory, or built on a widow's land after she died, or hand crafted in an art studio. Then it would have even more memories attached to it. I wonder how many people have thought about this before. I wonder how many people are thinking about this now. There are lyrics by the Killers that remind me of this that go, "and someone is calling my name from the back of a restaurant, and someone is playing a game in the house that I grew up in, and someone will drive her around down the same streets that I did..." I don't know. I guess it's just something to think about." |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 3rd, 2006|11:13 am] |
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