3.29.2007

vertigo...

sitting in this friendly place. in a friendly space.

I've recently been very pulled when I'm here in this box. "In the box." So to speak...the one in my lap. Good, you got. it. With my hands feeling slightly extra enflated like mabye the monster creatures in Naked Lunch...the very beginning stages when you just start to look a little like A Scanner Darkly...off shaded, almost cartoony. But you know that you're on the verge...the very verge of a crack. F. Scott Fitzgerald Crack. It exists, you know. I feel like I'm swallowing the very back of my tongue and there's a liquid running down...except drowing...and I have to open my mouth wide. It's the allergies. They'll say...I should get something.

I'm going to tell you that I've been very torn recently...between the electronic portions of my life and the real live breathing technicolor not 256bpi crazy electronic world. the real real one.

The funny thing though, is that I actually mean the world that exists when me the real live breathing one am working on writing stories on paper....the funny thing is me thinking that in some ways that world...the paper world is inherently better than the electronic world. I'm not sure if you'll get that.

Anyhow. Just wanted to think outloud for a bit. Funny things surround me and I'm about 85% happy with it. I'm going to the paper world now.

3.19.2007

naked

I feel today almost as if I have been stripped of my identity. I'm down one best friend. Down my ipod. Down my belief that I'm doing fairly well in school this semester (don't even get me started there). I mean, sure, these things don't make me who I am but they certainly add to what I believe about myself and dedicate my time to. Maybe that's, overall, a sad thing. I mean, your closest friends like you for who you are, so when you lose them, does that mean that you are no longer who you are but someone else? That's kind of how I'm feeling. What sort of monster have I become? Also, whenever I dye my hair it takes at least 2 weeks for all of my old friends to figure out how to recognize me with my new hair color and since this one is particularly ridiculous and drastic, I'm saying it is going to be at least 3 weeks. Hurray for that, I guess.

So, the webcomic I discovered through a post by Emma on Bryan's facebook wall (I hate the Internet) has been comforting. It's great to know that there are people out there who think along similar lines as I do, at least from time to time. It may be true that those people are geniuses and I am not, but that's beside the point. I think this one was my favorite. Especially because it is SO true. Recently, with all the writing, sleeping, reading, etc. I've been doing, I've been having a pretty hard time keeping track of what is "real" and what is "read" and what is "dreamed." All of my realities, because believe me, I invest as much belief into what happens in books and writing as I often do into my own life, have been blurring together. Not to mention the influence that the lack of sleep or use of alcohol has on the jumbling. I dreamed on two consecutive nights about the same incident that has, I'll admit, been bothering me. In the first of the dreams it went as poorly as possible. In the second of the dreams it went as well as possible. When I awoke the second morning I realized that neither event had happened and neither probably would. Still, I was faced with the feeling of closure immediately prior to that realization and REALLY wanted to hold on to it. Maybe that's what dreams do...look to offer us some closure for the things that really never end, change, get better, etc. Closure is important. It's part of moving on, making the ends of my torn heart, mind, body, etc. meet, and finishing the "chapter" or "book," so to speak in order for me to file it away in my mental library without thinking that I need to be doing a little more work on it. I am constantly trying to find closure...maybe if I could invest a little more faith in my dreams, they'd do it for me. Wouldn't that be nice?

Just last night I was talking to a high school friend about the way people come and go in our lives. We both agreed that you never realize what a big part of your life a person is until they're gone. Also, you are unlikely to realize the many ways that one person has come to be involved until you come upon the holes they leave. I hate that part of friendship. I am always really reluctant to make real friends just because of that fact. Once you commit yourself to friendship, you are agreeing to lose a part of yourself forever if that friendship fails. You are agreeing to the possibility that you will become irreparable broken. You are taking the risk of creating a part of your life that will never feel right without the other person still being a part of it. For me, that's the scariest. Sure, the good times "are worth it." But the blackness of losing it is pretty god damned dark and I tend to slip into that darkness just a little too far. I know, in the long run, I am thankful for all of the super close friends I've had. I would say there are fewer than 20 of them, total, throughout the course of my life. I only know where some of them are, so if that factors in, there are probably 10 that I am still going to be in touch with in 5 years (if that many). Even then, if each of them only has a small percentage of me, let's say 1%, that's at least 10% of me that is forever missing. 20% if you recognize that my belief that I'm going to stay in touch with these people is at least slightly biased on the fact that I will want to try...but seem to have a problem with being a good friend in return.

Man, fuck it. I'm not giving up, but I may rethink this whole thing before endeavoring to make any more sudden movements when it comes to the friends I have.

Also, super sweet: I didn't make any spelling errors in this entire rant minus a few slang words. I suck at spelling, generally, but apparently, at least today, I rock at fixing my mistakes without a spellchecker!

3.18.2007

anthromorphisms

The above is not a word. I made it up because I couldn't think of a good title. I hate titles. Especially since you always have to write them before you even write anything else and it's like you're trying to sum up everything you're going to say in one word before you've even said any of it yet. That's pretty silly, don't you think?

So, I think I want to change my name but only because I'm in love with this song that has a name in it and I love it so much that I would want that to be my name, but maybe I'll just settle for my daughter having that name if and when I ever have a daughter.

Right now all of my clocks are flashing 12:00. We lost power sometime over break. I wonder, though, how different my life would be if I just left them and never knew what time it was. That's what's great about digital clocks. With the type with hands, analog? I guess, it's always the same time...so I feel like I should be doing the same thing over and over. 6:05? Dinner time. Wait, I just ate, 6:05? But I'm not hungry. Okay, really that never happens but it's still confusing. I would lose track of myself if it weren't for clocks.

So, I was talking to some people tonight about being pretentious about music...and I'm definitely mostly not...but I do listen to a lot of music in foreign languages and even though often I only partially understand it, I wonder if it makes me at least a little bit pretentious. I don't know how I would feel about that if it did. I also just decided that I really wish the word wunder was used more often. I think if I have a new screenname soon, wunder will be in it. Probably not, though, because I can't think of a sweet word to go with it.

Found this awesome collection of cartoons tonight. I wanted to share.

I stayed up way too late looking through all of them. I know which one was my favorite but I looked at it about an hour ago and I don't have the time to find it again. Alas. Sleep.

3.02.2007

i like to strike out

My fingers have smelled delicious for the last few days. First like cloves and now like giradelli chocolate from our brownies that are baking in the oven.

But definitely, definitely, not like girls who like to tell stories on other girls that they pretend to like and then stab in the back. Those girls are NOT my type. I do not want to lick them. Now, the male go go dancers who are apparently going to be at dragball? yum.

What can I say, I'm a twenty first century fox with the world wrapped up in a box.
Show me the way to the next little girl....oh, don't ask why.

I love listening to albums because they both set a mood and make me have something to think about when my brain goes numb and I don't know what else makes a good thing to say.

I tell you.