Or wax anything really. I mean, its the winter time and I'm not currently dating, so there's no need.... ;-D
I try to reserve my blog as an unwinding tool and a way to get thoughts out. I don't flesh out any of my writing here, its mainly sketches of thoughts and ideas. Why choose to do it in blog form, when I've done it my whole life in a journal? Well, figured I'd try something new. Eventually I might join an online community of other writers to discuss ideas and such to get feedback, but right now I'm content with my pseudo-anonymity. Blogs are apparently trendy (I missed the whole livejournal/blurty era of online self-disclosure) but none of my friends read this one because frankly, its not about my life (much), therefore, not juicy. ha! I like it.
But like I said, I'm gonna indulge for a moment my excitement over the upcoming break. I'm so excited about so many things, especially the following:
-Seeing the baby (ok, US Marine, but still) Broski
-Seeing my jr. high best friend, who I havent seen in three years!
-Reading mah novelssss
-BAKING COOKIES
-Re-watching LOST season 5 to prepare for Feb. 2nd....
-Working, having a little bit of $$
-SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. Seriously. There are two things I don't get enough of in life, and both of them involve a bed. At least I can catch up on one of those this break ;)
-RAGTIME in NYC with momma and my aunt bobbie. My favorite musical and I've never had the chance to see it live until NOW! (It just got revived in November). I'm going to bawl like the lily-livered sap I really am.
Yeah....life is good. Final presentation at 8am tomorrow (not ok) and then....FIN! END SCENE! So thankful.
Ok, I'll wax philosophical a little bit. Er, meaning I will just reprint someone else waxing philosophical In the honor of the end of the semester, a little gem from Neil Gaiman (Admittedly the only novel I've ever read of his was Stardust and I was introduced to the Sandman series by a former flame, but I havent exactly gotten through all 75 issues, ha) but this quote, which I love, is from one of the earlier ones. I tried to remember it, but ended up having to google to find the whole thing. ANYWAY.
“I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing.”
Neil Gaiman
Veritas.
-J
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
File under 'So Good it Should Be Illegal'
No, I'm not talking about my makeout skills.
Robert. Francis. He's only 21. But damn that kid has something. Please enjoy 'little girl'...the whole suicide references tend to shade it with an emo tint, but if you wait until the end of the song where he makes the Romeo and Juliet reference, he knocks it out of the park and it definitely shines above the 'i need you so much but i'mma gonna go slit my wrists now' template. His voice reminds me of Shawn Mullins (anyone remember him? the Lullabye guy? OK!) So good. Also check out 'Darkness' if you find yourself into his sound.
-J
Robert. Francis. He's only 21. But damn that kid has something. Please enjoy 'little girl'...the whole suicide references tend to shade it with an emo tint, but if you wait until the end of the song where he makes the Romeo and Juliet reference, he knocks it out of the park and it definitely shines above the 'i need you so much but i'mma gonna go slit my wrists now' template. His voice reminds me of Shawn Mullins (anyone remember him? the Lullabye guy? OK!) So good. Also check out 'Darkness' if you find yourself into his sound.
-J
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
The ladymonster eats washington!!
i bit that washington, firm, and it was good
and i was naked the way i liked it
no one told me to, that reptile was added
in the editing process
he's what you call a motif
so i was nude and it was good
then scratchy leaves
and skins
and rough fibers
and shrouds
and kimono
then frock then skirt then mini skirt
i never did know why they spent as much time
trying to cover it up
as they did trying to get it off
all i know is as i was enjoying the wind
between my thighs and against my breasts,
sunning my empty back
he and He came to say no
they took one look at the core
and realized what they'd done
before I did. Trying to make sure I never will.
-J
and i was naked the way i liked it
no one told me to, that reptile was added
in the editing process
he's what you call a motif
so i was nude and it was good
then scratchy leaves
and skins
and rough fibers
and shrouds
and kimono
then frock then skirt then mini skirt
i never did know why they spent as much time
trying to cover it up
as they did trying to get it off
all i know is as i was enjoying the wind
between my thighs and against my breasts,
sunning my empty back
he and He came to say no
they took one look at the core
and realized what they'd done
before I did. Trying to make sure I never will.
-J
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I am the captain of my soul
INVICTUS - William Ernest Henry
OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
4 months.
-J
OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
4 months.
-J
Well, my blog is afterall, my life according to everyone else
"But he did not understand the price. Mortals never do. They only see the prize, their heart's desire, their dream... But the price of getting what you want, is getting what you what you once wanted."
— Neil Gaiman
Short and random thought that is no where near new or profound, but increasingly relevant to my little life at the moment: If you're gonna get what you want, you have to give up the desire to have it. And I think a lot of the time that burning, unfulfilled drive and desire can burn more brightly than the joy of actually getting what we want. And most times, the things we want, we don't actually we to have, or possess...we just want to know we can have them.
I'm toying with an idea for a story right now based on a clip I saw on CNN a couple years ago, about a supposed affliction termed 'love addiction.' It's not sex-addiction. Apparently, one can be literally 'addicted' to relationships. I used to just look at people like that and call it neediness and insecurity, but now its official: love really is a disease. I've watched my friends endlessly torture themselves over their own unrequited lovers, suffer from lack of favor from the apple of their eye, and endlessly question their worthiness and value. Morphing into another person's ideal prototype. I would think, what a pity. Spineless, you'll throw away every bit of your original self to mold to someone else's expectations or wishes. I guess I've known quite a few people you could call 'love addicts.' And then a thought dawned on me. What if it's quite possible that these people actually know themselves better than anyone else? Are truer and realer than the 'i am woman hear me roar/she don't wanna man/destiny'schildindepedentwomen ladies walking around who do yoga and backpack across Europe and have Vegas girl's-night one-night-stands to try to 'find themselves' and 'be who they really are' outside the context of a man? (PS I'm not purposefully excluding male/gay/lesbian/trans 'love addicts' - I'm just writing from my own perspective - a 'stereotypical' straight female's). Maybe the 'love addict' - the pathetic, no-spine, will-bending relationship shape-shifter, eternal people pleaser - maybe this person has more of it figured out than the rest of us. Because who are we, once it's all stripped away. Who do we become when all the things that we've decided we are, are taken away from us? What happens if all of the labels we give ourselves and all our definitions of self, all the of meaning we have constructed, down to our very own thoughts, are obliterated? And we instead we substitute someone else's reality? Someone else's ideals? Are we then supremely weak and insignificant because we have no sense of constructed identity left...or are we supremely intelligent, because now we can experience alternate reality without the prejudice of our own getting in the way?
I'm not sure that made any sense. But I think it'd be a cool idea to explore. I have to admit I have become a little bit obsessed with deconstructionism lately. I even attempted to start reading Of Grammatology but got confused as fuck and have put a pause on it until break. But I think most of the main points concerned deconstruction of language, whereas I am more fascinated by the deconstruction of thoughts/ideas/existing paradigms etc.
Blah. I need to do my actual schoolwork. Procrastination is the name of the game. Couple that with not enough time to do anything, and we've got one hell of an end of a semester....wish me luck.
-J
— Neil Gaiman
Short and random thought that is no where near new or profound, but increasingly relevant to my little life at the moment: If you're gonna get what you want, you have to give up the desire to have it. And I think a lot of the time that burning, unfulfilled drive and desire can burn more brightly than the joy of actually getting what we want. And most times, the things we want, we don't actually we to have, or possess...we just want to know we can have them.
I'm toying with an idea for a story right now based on a clip I saw on CNN a couple years ago, about a supposed affliction termed 'love addiction.' It's not sex-addiction. Apparently, one can be literally 'addicted' to relationships. I used to just look at people like that and call it neediness and insecurity, but now its official: love really is a disease. I've watched my friends endlessly torture themselves over their own unrequited lovers, suffer from lack of favor from the apple of their eye, and endlessly question their worthiness and value. Morphing into another person's ideal prototype. I would think, what a pity. Spineless, you'll throw away every bit of your original self to mold to someone else's expectations or wishes. I guess I've known quite a few people you could call 'love addicts.' And then a thought dawned on me. What if it's quite possible that these people actually know themselves better than anyone else? Are truer and realer than the 'i am woman hear me roar/she don't wanna man/destiny'schildindepedentwomen ladies walking around who do yoga and backpack across Europe and have Vegas girl's-night one-night-stands to try to 'find themselves' and 'be who they really are' outside the context of a man? (PS I'm not purposefully excluding male/gay/lesbian/trans 'love addicts' - I'm just writing from my own perspective - a 'stereotypical' straight female's). Maybe the 'love addict' - the pathetic, no-spine, will-bending relationship shape-shifter, eternal people pleaser - maybe this person has more of it figured out than the rest of us. Because who are we, once it's all stripped away. Who do we become when all the things that we've decided we are, are taken away from us? What happens if all of the labels we give ourselves and all our definitions of self, all the of meaning we have constructed, down to our very own thoughts, are obliterated? And we instead we substitute someone else's reality? Someone else's ideals? Are we then supremely weak and insignificant because we have no sense of constructed identity left...or are we supremely intelligent, because now we can experience alternate reality without the prejudice of our own getting in the way?
I'm not sure that made any sense. But I think it'd be a cool idea to explore. I have to admit I have become a little bit obsessed with deconstructionism lately. I even attempted to start reading Of Grammatology but got confused as fuck and have put a pause on it until break. But I think most of the main points concerned deconstruction of language, whereas I am more fascinated by the deconstruction of thoughts/ideas/existing paradigms etc.
Blah. I need to do my actual schoolwork. Procrastination is the name of the game. Couple that with not enough time to do anything, and we've got one hell of an end of a semester....wish me luck.
-J
Saturday, December 5, 2009
The Sappiest Thought I Have Had In Months
Screw the snow. Why? Not because it sucks in general, making driving conditions awful, making everything cold, wet, and miserable, and not because it sometimes sticks around forever. No, not those reasons.
Fuck you, first beautiful snowfall for instilling these rouge girlish thoughts and desires into my brain. It's cold, there's a pretty white blanket covering the ground, all signifying that people should stay the hell inside. And all I can think of, most of the day, is how incredibly nice it would be to lie on the couch, or in bed, entangled with another, just generating some body heat and listening to the snow fall. Drinking some stupid tea or hot chocolate and watching some dumb movie, although the movie isn't the point, it's just the excuse to be close. Much like the cold. And the snow. I start to crave it, like the want of a strong drink after a difficult day, or the need for coffee before class, it strikes you and for the next few minutes or hour so of your life, you are fixated on getting your fix. But I can't swing by the neighborhood bar or starbucks for this. I mean, I've tried to find it at both those places, but without much success. I guess I can only deal with one vice at a time.
Sometimes I feel like I'd trade all the moments of crazy for just one taste of that kind of tranquility. But I'm still young and foolish enough to believe I don't have to make trade-offs, so I don't. And the snow still falls outside, and I still slide under my sheets with just me and my dreams.
-J
Fuck you, first beautiful snowfall for instilling these rouge girlish thoughts and desires into my brain. It's cold, there's a pretty white blanket covering the ground, all signifying that people should stay the hell inside. And all I can think of, most of the day, is how incredibly nice it would be to lie on the couch, or in bed, entangled with another, just generating some body heat and listening to the snow fall. Drinking some stupid tea or hot chocolate and watching some dumb movie, although the movie isn't the point, it's just the excuse to be close. Much like the cold. And the snow. I start to crave it, like the want of a strong drink after a difficult day, or the need for coffee before class, it strikes you and for the next few minutes or hour so of your life, you are fixated on getting your fix. But I can't swing by the neighborhood bar or starbucks for this. I mean, I've tried to find it at both those places, but without much success. I guess I can only deal with one vice at a time.
Sometimes I feel like I'd trade all the moments of crazy for just one taste of that kind of tranquility. But I'm still young and foolish enough to believe I don't have to make trade-offs, so I don't. And the snow still falls outside, and I still slide under my sheets with just me and my dreams.
-J
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
amoraporia
i want to feel your nothing on in around about my nothing,
but that would be a contradiction not rational
therefore irrational
like dreams
where anything is possible so i want to
feel your nothing on my nothing and no thing
will impede the feel if we are in a dream
where anything is possible from which we shall eventually wake
to touch, because it is concrete
to feel, only in sleep.
-J
but that would be a contradiction not rational
therefore irrational
like dreams
where anything is possible so i want to
feel your nothing on my nothing and no thing
will impede the feel if we are in a dream
where anything is possible from which we shall eventually wake
to touch, because it is concrete
to feel, only in sleep.
-J
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