text: xc

text: I'm very tired. I'm not sure why I haven't gone to bed yet. I seem to avoid that, some nights. Like everything's okay when I'm still up and watching TV. I'm not afraid of the dark, just of what I can't see.

I know I need to make friends here. I need to go out, socialize. Move on. It's not that easy, though. I keep expecting to get a lecture from Mom. I've gotten them before. She just keeps saying how I sound like I'm adjusted, okay -- which I kind of am, but it's mostly that I'm better when I'm talking to her. Or to anyone, really. Which is natural -- it keeps the loneliness at bay. I don't spend all of the rest of the time moping, don't get me wrong. I've always liked solitude, to a much larger extent than most people. But I know, I /know/ I need people here. And I can't just wait for Megan to move down, even though she is. She's going to be traveling a lot, and I'm sure she'll make other friends, too. Which is /good/ -- we both need to have people outside or our friendship will strain. A person's happiness should not depend solely on one other person. It's not healthy.

I want a boyfriend, too, but I'm not chomping at the bit for it. First things first -- I need a local support structure before I can feel comfortable dating.

I really should go to bed. Like I said, I'm very tired.

text: hhrt

text: vxcvxcvx cv xwcv xc v xc vw xcvw cx vw xcv wxcv

text: "z

text: ~ESCAPE DRAMA~

text: everything will be fine. this I keep telling him to reassure him but at the same time to try and make myself believe it. it will work out in the end, we'll both go back to uni and then it will be fine. I hope.

I've never seen him so... vulnerable. he's scared and that makes me scared because he's always so much stronger than I am. he's been through so much more than me. I'm like a blank, plain slate to his weathered, scarred and decorated slab. I can be the strong one for a little while but I can't keep it up like he can. and I'm worried I'll need to. I'm worried that it won't work out and we'll both have to be the strong ones and we'll be alone for much, much longer than we anticipated. I couldn't handle that. right now I get by with the thought of being back with him in the front of my mind at all times. soon. 5 weeks more of 'soon'.

text: je suis arrivé sur cette page espérant trouver un problème à mon sacnner brisé. broken scanner. but it wasn't what i was looking for. so i ended up here writing for five minutes. j'ai mis pearly de radiohead et dead leaves and the dirty ground des white stripes. à écouter pendant. mais, bon. 5 minutes passent vites.

text: Yeah.

So I just toasted my ancient graphics card.

And here's the worst thing. I can't decide if it was the modem getting stuck to the heat sync that did it, or all the dust my brother warned me about. Either way, I'm never trying to install a PCI card when the computer is still standing upright.

At least, not when it's my last open port because I've had to add so much crap to it since the tower is a bagillion years old.

That's life for you, I suppose.

text: this type of love can't be healthy. if you're not here, i can't find a reason to live. i have lost my identity, my sense of self. i am nothing without you. when im with you, im so happy -- happier than i've ever been. but everytime you leave, even for a few hours, i am constantly afraid that you will not come back and i will be left with nothing. and now you're gone again. i miss you so much. i hate being alone.

text: I have about five minutes 'til I need to start heading to class, and I haven't done this in a while (since it's been broken) so... I might as well.

Not that I have much to say. And I did just (finally) get an email. I'd been getting slightly put out that no one was posting/commenting on LJ. Which is silly when you come right down to it, because it's not like people have an obligation to entertain me. But it makes me sad when I post something and get no response at all. To be fair, though, it's been less than two hours since I posted it, and a lot of people work. Not everyone has barrels of free time in the middle of the day! I won't, come fall. *sigh* My last semester of school. It's going to be a busy one. Complete with spending as much time as possible with my friends, since I'll be running off to Ohio next year.

It's a little strange to be thinking about graduating when I'm nearly surrounded by FASET people -- that's our orientation for incoming freshmen.

I should have used some of my time between classes to write. I like writing. It's fun! And gets me attention in fandom, which I like. I'd like to be one of the people who is known to be a good writer. I'm not sure if I'm there yet, but I have had a few people "friend" me to read my fic. That's a nice feeling. Good for the self-esteem. That's a big part of my motivation for a lot of things. Upping the self-esteem. It's not a good motive, but there it is.

I'm not looking forward to figuring out what to do next year. I know what my first choice is, since it works out the best, logistically... but I also need to look into psych grad school, in addition to the master's of Human Factors program that's based in the school of engineering. I really like the psychological aspect of things, so part of me says I should go that route. But I might not have the prereqs, and my engineereing degree works well with going into the school of engineering. I just don't know what I want to do. I'm never good at figuring that out.

text: you'll have to excuse me from writing five minutes worth of test data.

text: It's that time in the morning when it's either really early or really late, depending on how you look at it. From my view though, considering my eyes are burning from lack of sleep, it's really really late. I should go to bed but i find myself here, not knowing why. Somehow this website popped into my head because I remembered it from friends in high school. Then I wondered where the time has gone and where it's going to take me. Kind of deep, seedy thoughts that I shouldn't have this late. Oh well, where else is my brain going to escape to, guess this is sort of the point of this place. You don't know who you're talking to but you mostly talk to yourself. This feels like somewhere that you would say things that you've always wanted to say but never have. Hmmm... that's all for me. Kind of liked this place, I should come back sometime.

text: SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM!

Attack...

text: Ok... so I have my friend who keeps posting MY WEBSITE address on this board... really wierd huh? And his name seems to be one of the characters he designed for my website.... now that is what I call WIERD! So what am I doing here? Absoloutely nothing! I'm bored out of my head. I'm working on my Website at the moment, and like my friend said: Some of the links on it are sh**. But who cares? I have about like 6 unique visitors everyday. But do they complain? (Or maybe it's because I haven't given them a place to complain). Anyway, I'm just sitting here typing so fast that my hand is in pain. OUCH! oh whoops, I can't believe I just typed that. OUCH! I think I'm getting blisters (Thank gosh for the soft black keyboard). Anyway, so I stuffed up my script for my hit counter, and ended up fixing it the whole night... I wish I could get my Admin Area working and my PHPbb forum working without the database. But who cares? I bet none of you are web masters that would be able to help me. Now... I'm starting to run out of things to say again like I did last time. Hey I'm still managing to continue typing stuff! Hey I'm still going... (OH GOD THIS COULD GO ON FOREVER). Why can't I make my flash toons fast enough. Everyone's erging me to make them and fast! Oh well... back to work I go....

text: TURN UP THE SUN - Oasis

I carry a madness
everywhere I go
over the border
and back to the snow...

you ever wake up and it's one of those days? well, this has been one of them. it all stems from... god knows what. I blitzed this day... but if I blitzed it, why do I feel so weird? I know why. I'm going stir crazy. I only talk to the people I know; friends, relatives. don't even mention work. the people I try to strike up conversations with invariably think I'm deranged, weird, sad, whatever. and why the HELL is that? because I'm trying to talk to you for a reason other than being forced to, to chew the fat, pass the time, even, *GASP!*, discuss something? well screw you too buddy.

it's just the same things, day in, day out, waiting for the police to contact me, waiting for some major event or occurance, waiting to stop being so physically ill and being able to do something different. and you know the only thing I can do differently? it's talk, that and play something else, watch something else, read something else. soon, I'll order some stuff. and until then?

I'll make more people think I'm stalking them. I should be used to people thinking I'm weird; I should just do what I'm gonna do. and I hope this gut feeling thing goes away soon... it has no right to be here. damn it, I may be stressed, but when the hell do I feel that? screw you and go away. just because I get Wicked Sick in UT2004 doesn't mean I should start to twitch and spasm.

here's a weird thought. maybe no one does think I'm weird and stalking them? maybe the non-communicado is just "wow. you're too smart, man" or "I'm too busy, sorry man" or "Cthulu mucked with my tech stuff, I didn't get anything from you man". I'll think like that from now on. because you know what? I rock, and I know I rock, and anyone who doesn't know I rock is missing out on... solidified molten fire! yes, I have ego problems. I think I may have already said this, but screw you.

and whilst the desire to mask who I am is tempting, people would recognise me anyway. so fuck that. oasis is just such a giveaway...

so if you see me
and I look right through
you shouldn't take it
as a reflection on you

the boys in the bubble
they wanna be free
and they got so blind
that they could not see

but I'm not your keeper
I don't have your key
I got a piano
I can't find the c

come on! turn up the sun
turn it up for everyone...

text: I am going to eat me some KFC because I am hungover. Why does junk food taste so good when you feel so shit?? I hate it normally but today I am getting me some of the colonels chicken.... mmmmmmmmmmmm. Booze is bad for your head and for your tummy. I want to go back to bed so I can sleep this off man. has this been five minutes.....? I'm bored. Bye bye

text: Five. More. Minutes.
The obvious question is "why?". I like questions. No, that isn't right; I have to answer questions. Especially the difficult ones.
I can't even *remember* the question now. You need five more minutes. From me. From anyone. Anyone who can get to this site is equally qualified - you just sit down and type for five minutes which you'd probably do anyway. What does Inpheaux want? Five more minutes. There. It's answered. Get back to writing.
...
There's a lot of mentions of "escape" here. These five minutes... they're for someone to escape. Maybe Inpheaux. Maybe anyone who views the minutes past.
Maybe for me.
We all want to escape, don't we? That's why we're here on a computer, in some regards. It doesn't mean your life is awful, or that you hate it, or any of those things (though you might) - it just means that sometimes life is a bit too much and you just
Need
Some
Escape.
Three minutes. I type kinda fast.
Computer games. They're escape as well. "I am Kyle Katarn, Jedi Knight and overall good guy!" Of course not; but you play the game to unwind from life or to block it out or whyever the hell you do it.
It's interesting to note that some people have chosen to escape by talking about personal things. The opposite of escape, in a sense; things you want to deal with but can't talk about or face or deal with in the "real" world. Women and men, it seems. Everyone has something they want to deal with but can't; it's a measure of society somehow. "I was X" "Y happened to me" "I was addicted to Z".
Fuck, this is a sick place. Sick world.
At least I could escape for five minutes, eh?

text: well i have no idea why i'm doing this i whent to my friends site it stuffed so i whent to skizzers and followed the link.....sigh.....are you like one of those womans day writers hoping maddona or kylie will do something ....sigh.... five minutes is so long ........ theres a bear in there and a cnhair as well i don't know the rest...... i hate womans day stupid bloody womans day the dumb women who read it .....sigh..... why are u doing this its addictive tying when noone will listen .....sigh..... welll alomost five minutes ....sigh... sigh...

VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon its really good exept some links are sh** ..........sigh...............

im really typing alot of stuff

i kicked over the rubbish bin just then ...... ooooooooooooo theres an apple thats just a little bit mouldy ......................................yum that was delicious oh sorry i didn't meen to type that .....sigh five bloody minutes of boring hell wow this is fun happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy ummmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] help me ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo]
im really crazy v crazy crazy crazy crazy crazy crazy crazy

text: nvnbb;;vvmmfldmvmmigogmgkbm.vmbgbmpfgbmt;bbss;sfvjvmb;bt;hhng;dfdstrrkbddkbnlfkdddddddddddddddddddfkmglbmdlk;lss himlnc; ;cnac;nca hi mnainrp,pcnputgnp,vunv,npcnwnwvocionxcjkgpv im ds;alnsunvucpnc,no,nounpuxn,u,nxboiuh crazy cjklnmlgntuicxneic

text: well it's been a while....but then you only asked for five minutes....not five minutes everyday....so here's five more minutes....where to begin?....probably with the fact that i'm still stuck at home for physical therapy and not at school where i want to be so i can see all my classmates graduate....and be with my friends...and ride again....but instead i'm stuck in a city i hate...and the one thing i found....well the one guy i found to make it seem not so bad just picked me up tonight and on our way to a friend's house we argued and he dropped me off at home again....like i was only gone from the house for 10 minutes or so....not long at all....and when i was getting out of the car i said i'll talk to you later....and he said maybe...like he didn't want to talk to me...and so now i'm in a bad mood and don't want to talk to him and wondering if i even want to be with him anymore....of course i'm also wondering what it is about me that makes guys act like this around me....i was a tomboy growing up and i really don't have many female friends 'cause most of my friends are guys and so why can't i keep a guy interested in me?.....am i too much like one of the guys? but how many guys want their girls to get into football and fixing cars and not really wanting to go out very often but would rather stay in and watch tv? how many times do i hear my friends say this? and yet i somehow end up with guys that just don't seem to want it from me.....so i give up....either i have no taste in guys and just seem to pick all the wrong ones....or there's something wrong with the way i act....either way there's something wrong with me...that's the only solution i can come up with.....and if there's nothing wrong with me then all guys really are dogs....and my dad was right....god sometimes i really hate admitting that....

text: I think I'm getting sick. No, I know I'm getting sick. *sigh* Megan's been sick for the past week or so, so I guess it's to be expected. But I'd hoped I wouldn't. It's bad timing -- I get to see dad tomorrow for the first time in ages, and I have a test on monday...

This song plus doing this somehow felt familiar. Or maybe not /this/ in particular, but something with a similar interface. Maybe I listened to it when I used to MUD. That's quite possible. I get occasional flashes when I listen to the slayer's themes, too. It's interesting what gets linked in my brain... a song will remind me of something/someone/sometime, just for a moment. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. The word "sometimes" still catches me on occasion....

I'm starting to get into that foggy-headed unable-to-think mode that comes with being sick. Ugh. This is going to suck.

People like my writing. I am happy. :D Writing fanfic (yes, fanfic, don't hate me) is a wonderful thing. Because it gets read by people who are just as obsessed about the shows as you are, and therefore they *know*. And they understand. And if you get the characters right, they love you for it. I'm not wonderful, but I have my moments. Some of my fics have gotten great feedback. And I'm a feedback whore, you know. Actually, that reminds me of psych (intro to personality) -- one of the "behavior signatures" the book uses as an example is the Rejection Sensitivity signature. Not only do people with that signature watch for possibilities of rejection, but they also "blossom with any evidence of acceptance." Yeah. So me. I never gave that much thought before. Now I notice it all the time, and can't help but think, "Wow, I'm pathetic."

text: Helllo i have no idea why i'm writing this? i just followed a link that leads to this strange site. I don't even know why i even bother typing and stuff. Well i guess i might aswell just type and type and type for no reason what so ever. Hey, the blank space is actually getting used up. Wow i'm so amazed at this. Well anyway. I have just run out of things to say. Darn. Oh hey, i'm still going. This is sooooooo amazing. I guess.... actually not really. The thing that could be really amazing is that there is nothing for me to talk about and that I have just filled up half this text box. Oh wel. hey this box has a good font! Well... that's all for me I guess.... right? oh. Welll. Ok then. keep on talking, talking talking talking. Oh boy. my arms are starting to feel really painfull. i better stop now. But if i stop now, then what was the point of me coming here. I didn't even get a chance to write my name and e-mail and webpage and stuff. Oh well. So... darn, I just stopped for about 20 seconds. If i continue like this, then my arm r gonna fall off...

text: here I go again. whenever the scorp's got a problem, she turns to escape to get it all off her chest, and cringes at it minutes later. once more into the breach, I suppose...

so here's a lovely moral dilemma(which if I were a saint wouldn't be such a dilemma at all, but there's no such thing, you know?): somebody uploads, whether intentionally or unintentionally, a chatlog between themselves and a friend. into a directory which isn't exactly secret - not locked or hidden away, never to be spoken of, but just not seen by most. so possibly secret. I don't know if this person knows that I know about this directory - there are other places I could have come by those mp3s, I guess.
but what if they do know, and this is some kind of... test? or a subtle hint? says the little voice in the back of my head. go on... it says. read it. after all, if all is well you have nothing to worry about... right? and if all isn't well, you should know... right?

but this is like spying. I don't think they'd really do that - that sick test idea. would they? can I trust my judgement on *anyone's* character?

of course I'm scared that the voice is right. if it's right about this, maybe it's right about everything else...
when somebody laughs just as you enter the room, they're laughing at you.
when somebody smiles at you, they just want to get on your good side in case they need french homework in a hurry.
they invited you because they invited *everyone*. but you knew *that* already, didn't you?
they don't like you, they pity you.
you think it can't happen to you, and that's why it will.
you're a poor judge of character - you think the best of everyone.
get a grip.



jesus...

text: i hate it. it's always unending. even as this new year has already begun, the lack of interesting things in my life never seems to dull it's edge. nothing happens; nothing great, nothing horrible. more than likely, if anything were to happen, it would be unfavorable. not that i'm not pessimistic, it's just that this world is not as optimistic as I am. then again, the world is not as cool as one would like to think either.

so, this year seems like the last. work, school, and work. nothing more than that, nothing less. If i could afford my own place to live, things would be wonderful, but as it is, jobs that pay well are few and very far between. THAT and when i finally land a job, they usually only keep me for three months. i'm a job drifter.

so apathy. apathetic towards everything. i don't care about the meteors, the quakes, nor do I care for anything else but myself. as you live the day, there are things to cling to, things to care about. but not today.

text: With all of todays politiacl nonsense that is fklopating around, how do you decide who to vote for. I haven't figured that out yet. So I decided to not vote until I can find a person who doesn't "sling mud" at their opponent. When I find that person I will evaluate that person with great detail. If this person has plans to turn our government into a democracy then I give them a few good "points". If they decide to do away with the whole voting system and make our representatives vote on their own personal judgement then they get a lot of bad "points".I may only be 16 at the time I typed this but I have a good veiw on this whole Bush Kerry thing. Even though it's all over with. The true winner should have been the people. But unfortunatly it isn't that way. All in all it should be power to the people and doing the whole democracy is all the government has been avoiding for the longest time. So lets do away with the government. Have a political debate, but take away the political parties. And for your sake, make some of your own decisons and have your own life for a change. Thanks for listening to me rant about the world and it's problems.

text: everything2 calls it body hunger, and I got it bad. I just... I *need* closeness, I need to snuggle up with someone and feel the warmth and closeness and love and just exist in that perfect wonderfulness for ever and ever. world without end amen, like...
will anyone even see this, and if they do would they care?

ever since halloween's aftermath, and that damn election plastered all over the newspaperstvinternet(even in school!), everything's been DIFFERENT and bad. and I keep telling myself it'll blow over, we'll adapt and adjust but in the meantime it's so terribly lonely here, kicking up the autumn leaves and looking at the sunset, that glorious golden glow up there, and wanting to share it. sharing it.

and... nothing? great. cool. not really though.

was it really so terrible, that it sparked this change? this distance? I don't know - can't know, really. it occurs to me that all this time I've been living such a sheltered life, and it just doesn't compare really.

I'm confused and upset but it will fix itself in time. he will.

I keep telling myself this.

text: you want five minutes of writting? ok, here it goes, this is my best shot, i wil not stop my giners moving on th board at anytime, so basically, if nothing makes sense, then its because i ran out of things to say, andi'll jump from topic to topic yea, so like, i found this website called tuckermax.com, and its these stories about this guy named tucker, and its all real, and theyre all his stories, but like, they are super funny. and hes an amazin pimp, everything i wish i could be. insulting girls and still get head from them later on that night. yea... so thats awesome. what i would really like to be doing right now thou is playin World of Warcraft, because i was in the close dbeta, and it fucking ruled, but the servers are down now and im sad, concidering its the best game i've ever played. and no, im not a geek. actually, im on the football team, and im a starting reciever. i also start midfielder for our soccer team. both varisty sports. isnt that niffty? that i can be coola nd play vdeo games all in the same day? i think that is neat.ok my arm is getting tired o this... i stil have like a minute and thirty seconds lef tto type thou... hmm... i think i'll talk baout WoW. yea, its so cool. my friend and i are gunan play. ok, thats done. i hate my soccer coach. he sucks. ok, im done with that too.. i should be doing spanish homeowrk, like my essay and activities in the workbook, but i dont want to i want to write for 5 minutes to a stranger because why? because eh asked me to thats why. and i wanna be tucker max drunk with tucker death mix. its soooo good... i really like alcoholic drinkls... like ruma nd coke is very very good. and absinthe, speakin of i just ordered a bottle of it from the czech republic, crazy huh, and their importing it to the united states, even thou its illegal here. thats insane, its gunna make me trip like none other. okay, i think my times up, bye!

text: I need something that you cannot feel or express in words. Something that is so far, and so obtuse that in order for me to express any semibalance of it, I need you to dream of it, and dream with me and travel there to that place I think about daily.

I think everyone has this moment within there lives, wether they act on it our not. they just have that unexp[rssable feeling of just needing...

The closest words I can get to describing what I'm referring to but unable to say is...journey. Finding more that a piece of the univrse for myself, but a piece of me that has been lost since birth. A meaning that extends beyond reason, but into complacent, maybe peace.

The world seems more that just a place of monotone jobs, and chaotic events tempering on moods, but it seems to hint with a maybe a subconcious mode of dreams that have already happens, and falls, that are being relived, and journey's...epics, which are touching those moments all over again...and again.


I wish to travel not to just find myself.
But to find the Universe. To find something that will give me a rest when its my time to die, and not a handul of regrets.


I the truth about this life, and if there is a truth in the next, I want that too.





I want to ecape into something to farscape to be real...but I know it always, and forever more ...







will be,

text: meow.

text: Haven't done this in a while . . . I have my journal and all that, but this is fun.

Since when is there webmail? Somehow I never knew about it. Or maybe I did, and I forgot. But hey, that's useful for other times. Not so much now, unless I get to the library when there aren't kids all over the computers. And I haven't brought my laptop. I'm not allowed to check outside email at work. Not even school email, sadly. Fooey. That looks weird. A lot of words look odd, you know? Especially if you stare at them long enough. Maybe everything looks weird if you stare at it long enough. Or maybe you just get used to it. I had one of those moments last night when you look into the mirror and don't recognize yourself. It happens sometimes. I get confused . . . I am confused. Most of the time. Odd when the person you spend the most time with is someone you want to hide certain things from. Or maybe not so odd. Maybe it's my way of keeping a bit of distance. Maybe I just feel more comfortable talking about things to others. Not that I do, very often. I don't keep in touch with people. I don't make the effort. It's not that I don't miss them . . . I just don't do it. I'm too lazy to force myself to pick up the phone. Okay, I've gone over this enough. Elsewhere, even. Hm, scribble's gone, isn't it? I imagine. Kinda sad. I had a few entries on there that would have been nice to have around somewhere. Then again, it's probably better that they're gone. Sometimes the past can be depressing. I still like that name, though. Induil. I remember sitting in christina's room, trying to come up with a name. Don't know how we eventually got that one. Names are good. Names should be good. Names should mean something.

And it's a beautiful life . . .

text: i love horses...and much as i'm going to love going home....i'm leaving my babies back at school and that's going to suck....wish i could take my Nicki with me...then perhaps surgery wouldn't be so bad....but where are you going to put a 1200 lb. animal in the middle of a city?...won't work...but oh well it's not forever, and then i can ride my baby again....and sailors too....man this weekend has been great....

text: Here is five minutes worth of writing...I suppose from the title that this is supposed to be theraputic...well, it has been suggested that writing, like talking out our problems, helps to relieve stress. I am especially interested in stream of conscious writing, which is what I am doing right now. Stream of conscious is fun and can lead to some surreal things, but it could also spiral into scary recesses in your brain. For example, if you had a crazy secret or embarassing fantasy, it might come out in a stream of consciousness writing exercise. OK, I know this is supposed to be 5 minutes, but I am already bored.

text: fgfg

text: Here I am, sitting at college on a sharp september morning. I'm using a demon Mac, my boyfriend is sitting next to me and I am happy. I've had a hard time being happy, in a wierd way it's new to me. I've not felt something like this for a while. Everything feels OK. I feel right now that for once, the world is not about to colllapse on my head, that the urge to crumble is not too strong, that the beautiful sky is not tainted with feelings of desperate escapism. I wanted to record this, because I tend to fall down far too quickly. I wanted to see this so that when the sky does fall down, I have something to look back on and smile about. I want this year to be the year where I sort my life out. I want to do well.

text: laying under a palm tree, feeling the warm breeze and the rush of the ocean...kissing....rolling....pounding waves....intense pleasure....orgasmic passion like nothing ever experienced before. Being pressed against someone yet stil lnot close enough....yet so close two bodies become one and you don't know if .....

text: have you ever thought about running away to join the circus?....i never did till recemtly.....now it seems to be all i can think about...hehehe....^-^ wish i could....i would do it too....anyway...i know this is nowhere near five minutes, but i had to do something with my time...

text: see...life is so funny sometimes....just when you think nothing can ever get better, it does....and right now i'm not even looking for the downside of life...'cause well....i just don't care.....life is so wonderful right now....i don't think i've smiled like this in years....it's definitely a wonderful feeling..."they've got catfish on the table....they've got gospel in the air...." right now my head is filled with nothing but happy music even though i am the tiniest bit sad...."i sing to life and to its tragic beauty ....to pain and to strife and all that dances through me....the rise and the fall ...." yeah right now nothing can go wrong and nothing will 'cause even if this doesn't work out well at least i tried and i'm not getting hung up over the past anymore...well back to the books....hopefully i can concentrate now...that's my biggest problem is not being able to concentrate through all the happiness...every time i get my thoughts under control i remember what it is that makes me so happy....well i think it's been five minutes now and i just seem to keep repeating myself....

text: the end? why do people care about the end so much? they ought to pay attention to the path. that's the part that matters... 42, ha. i just remembered how silly life is... should i look with pity on my fellow man, or share in the mirth? what a choice. here i am, trapped. ha! why does fate torture me? maybe i'm alone... well of course i am, but maybe i'm not alone in that which is of course and everyone else just can't see. it makes sense, which is why it's so absurd... it's all just so contrived. i can't stand contrivances, and that's why i'm so bad at this. i should be more surgical and appreciate the blade.

text: i hate being up early on the weekends...there's just nothing to do so i sit in my room by myself and listen to music while surfing...i know there are better things i could do with my time, such as cleaning...lord knows my room could use it...only problem is i have to be in a good mood to clean...and unfortunately i'm not...i'm depressed 'cause of people...people who broke my heart and continue to break it...so of course i listen to the most depressing music i can think of...country...most poeple would question that choice, but i don't....anyway one more hour till the pow-wow starts again so here i sit...just doing nothing....maybe in an hour i'll go...but for now i'm stuck...god i wish there were more people here or that i was at home with my friends...then i could at least have something to do...well even though my five minutes aren't up...i should leave...if i don't i'll just keep repeating myself...people suck...i refuse to love again...

text: I'm cheating and taking two escapes. They don't seem to be doing it for me, though. I need a more immersive one, something which can make me forget this idiotic reality. I guess that is a bit more than a simple escape. I need a good book, like the series A Song of Ice and Fire, by George R. R. Martin. Someone recommend a good fantasy book, please.

text: Whoever said, "Lashing out only creates more problems," was wrong. I might have lost my mind if I hadn't. Surely that would have been much worse than lashing out. But why am I under such mental duress? I can alleviate it by just saying, "Fuck it. Not my problem." Or at least postpone it. Is it because the repercussions are more terrible down the road? Ah, it's because if I don't fix it, no one will. What a bitch.

text: well mother theresa was right...death is not the opposite of life...but it sure as hell hurts...and i swear if i loose another friend to that moron's stupidity i'm going to scream and hunt him down....fucked up false election....viva la revolucion!....that's what we need if he's reelected...a revolution...we need this nation to rise up and say what's what...we need more common sense...we need so much...so much...and no one's doing anything about it...it's just not right...how can we claim to be free when all we do is enslave each other every day, and we never want to pay the consequences of our actions....it's just not right...it's not fair, but nothing ever is...not even our most important election processes....and we're loosing our history too...to the victors go the spoils, and the victors write the history books...remember that...we must preserve the truth, not the story fabricated to pacify the masses....the truth is passed on from mother to daughter, generation to generation....don't let their deaths be in vain. don't let our world go to hell....bring it back from the brink of destruction and know that there is good in this world....nothing seems to help, but everything does....'mind the threefold law ye should, three times bad and three times good, what thee send forth come back to thee, so ever mind the law of three'...simply saying let's change the world for the better...we need goodness to come to light...we need to dispell the darkness that reigns....we should....we need....we have to do something and throw off our shackles...we need to take our destinies into our own hands again and deliver ourselves from the evil that abounds....

text: Song Lyrics are fun, various other things, include pasta and guitar strings. if all is totalled, is that a real word, anyways, it was almost a year ago, since i last ate chips with cheese, aye true i said, very true, anyways, how many fingers am i holding up, thought so. cheese is cool,a nd cool isn't cheese, so don't get shit mixxed up, i spelt it wrong i know.

text: I found the escape script by browsing the web for a script that I could use to post comments, and maybe use as a simple web chat on occasions. I didn't want any SQL requirements, or anything like that.

So I got ezcape when I read about it in an answer the author had posted to someone's query about another similar script, and downloaded it. I placed it on my server (I don't have PHPon my local machine), and took IE to the page. I had checke dthe PHP scripts for variables, but hadn't even read any of the HTML. I had tried a few script samples in this way, and most of them just bring up a single 'comments' type page, ready for entry. What I got with Excape was an entire templated site, ready to go. And what an intriguing template! One of my semi-ideas for usage of this script was to make a simple single file weblog page, and another was for a time-delay web chat with my ex, who I have an on again / off again thing going on. When I read the text prompting me for just five minutes, I nearly starte writing out what I was thinking about at that time. Why? To let off a little pressure, to get some Escape.

It wouldn't work properly, though, on my server. I had decided to get it all working before i gave in to any temptation, so I set out instead to learn how to deal with a bunch of PHP errors about permissions required to open a stream. Now , I'm not much of a web programmer, more of a script hacker, heh. I find bits of other people's code that do what I want, and learn from that how to build what I am looking for. Anyhow, a few searches later, I realized that I probably needed to CHMOD the Escape directory. Sure enough, that took care of it, and the script started to actually publish what I was writing.

'Round about this time, I checked my email, and what did I find but a mail from the author of Escape, asking me if I'd gotten it working! I had found a variable containing an email address in one of the PHP scripts, and changed it to mine, just in case it was used. But since I didn't spend much time reading the templates before I ran the script, I never found the code that generates the mail, which is in one of the HTML files. MAN I was glad I hadn't responded to that initital temptation to pour out my inner frustration into 'an empty text file'. Joshua, however, was pretty friendly. We shared a couple of emails about what I had done with the script, and what kind of stuff he gets with his e-mail built into it.

I have some time to kill today, so decided to use google to see if I could find anyone else running the escape template site. I found this one, which is right on the Author's site, so I assume this is his. It looks like what with the other distractions I have going on, I'm giving up about ten minutes for this little story about my 'escape' adventures. The escape script is great, and even though I haven't spent much time with it yet, I think that what I can learn from it should be enough to allow me to code some of the other functionality I want. My two cents: I like the template I downloaded better than the lok of this page. However, the verbiage in the prompt (on the first page) is great. Thanks a lot for the script, and indeed , for helping to simplify the achievment of 'Escape' which mysel f and so many others seem to find in writing our thoughts and feelings out on the web for (maybe) the whole world to see.

text: the people yell and peace is not here!!!!!!!!! speak, they say, but the system fights me! or do I fight the system? egads! nay, I must not fight, for to fight the system is to play the system in the manner in which it is intended. For to "play the game" you must in fact fight the system, for this is its inherent purpose! This is the evil of the system!

what is there besides? ESCAPE? what is this? what I am wriiting, this is? indeed the title is thus. Yet how must mindless chatter be escape? shall we mindlessly follow nothing just to escape the system? NO! We merely create another system, albeit one of laziness. We must create! Design! Think! Work! Uniqueness is key, not for the sake of uniqueness itself, but as evidence we are truly doing our own thing, for we are all unique and thus uniqueness in our works indicates pursuit of our true passions. But we must not pursue uniqueness for the sake of uniquess, yes this creates another system! pursue your own passion, your own calling, your own creativity, and uniqueness will follow!

And no I didn't time this. Sorry.

text: i just thought of something.

perhaps, when there are enough entries, this place can be published as a book.

you know how much we'd make selling it to the emo crowd?

text: test

text: I've never done this before, however tempted I may have been to try it. but I need to get this out, and since my ftp seems to have exploded, here is as good a place as any. in fact, it's almost better. this concerns two people aside from me; one whose heart seems to be mine but I don't want it, and another who my heart belongs to, but his feelings on the matter I'm not sure of. no doubt they could guess which is which, reading this.
but am I just being whiny and melodramatic? do I just want this because I can't have it, and wilfully turn down what's offered to me? I don't know. I feel not, but I can't trust myself to be sure...
I'll leave it at that.

text: dood. things have disappeared. And skizzers looks different. I kinda mentally fell over when I saw that. I do that, sometimes -- mentally fall over. Physically falling over would draw too much attention, you see . . . but the reaction is still there. I did that sometime this morning, I think, but I can't remember why. Hm.

And now I'm here, and I'm writing. Why? Because I have no work to do. I was good this morning -- there were runs of stuff to do. But not now. And LJ just isn't fun today.

I kinda want to write . . . but I can't think of anything to write. Anything I want to write. That I haven't gone over so many times it's getting annoying. I need something new. I need . . . i don't know. I'm just generally unhappy today, for some reason. Don't know why. Wonderful little depression I have.

I've been dreaming a lot lately, though not to the point where it's disturbing my sleep yet. And I don't remember a lot of them, until something clicks and I remember a piece, a fragment. Like yesterday, I remembered a dream in which someone gave me a boxed set of Pokemon movies. Yeah. Strange things like that. I like dreams, though. They're better than reality. Reality doesn't make sense. Neither do dreams, but they're not supposed to. Reality is. Isn't it? I think the problem is that I don't make sense to myself. Hard to understand the world when I can't understand myself. Some of the things I'm figuring out, though, aren't things I can tell people. Or maybe I can, but only certain people. It's so hard to know what to say to who. So I say nothing, usually. There are things I haven't ever told anyone. In some ways, it's nice to have secrets, nice to have pieces of myself that no one else knows.

text: I love her, thats all I can think of is her. How do I let her know, how do I tell her with out fucking up both our lives. my friends her family it will all be shot to hell if I tell her,. I want to tell her but the need for everything in my life to stay the same is high the need to make sure nothing bad happens to her is higher. I want to be with her but I don't htink it will happen She is everything that is good and beutiful in this world. to me she is perfect to me life with her seems right but it iwont be easy. Nothing easy is worth it , this is definatly worth it. I love her

text: dzfsdf

text: I sometimes think I'd like to be one of those stay at home people. Not in that I want to sit on my butt all day, every day, staring at the TV. No, I want to do things like garden and keep the house nice and write some, too. Of course, I can't do that if I suck at writing, or really if I'm single (unless I'm a fantastic writer, which I'm not, as far as I know). Maybe once I finish the novel I'm working on I'll know better if I could do that sort of thing. I think it'd be nice, to work from home, mostly on my own schedule. To have time to spend on the house, and not have anything else that conflicts with that. Of course, that's not likely. No, I'll get a "normal" job -- hopefully not quite a desk job. More likely, it will be a lab of some sort. Doing what, I don't know at this point. Everyone looks at me funny when I tell them I'm considering becoming a biology major. I should work on not letting those funny looks affect me. It's my liife, right? My choices. So even if I wanted to drop out of school and attempt to be a full time writer or something equally absurd, it's my choice and they don't get a say.

text: So five minutes of writing is the requested, hmm? What is there to write about other than myself. Having reached an impasse in my life I'm re-evaluating everything. Who I am, who I was, who I want to be. Who I am is not who I want to be, nor is who I was. Thus changes have to be made. Change is hard though, and most people are terrified of it. It's one of the things I'm not scared of.

I want to be perfect. I want to be all things to all people at all times. I'mm a wicked, jealous person who is highly possessive, and thus it drives me fairly nuts to find out that someone would possible go to another person for help. Is this normal? Do I care? Positive affirmation is something I crave. I am constantly searching for it. I rarely ever get it. This is not because of the merits of my work or the quality of my friendship.My friends enjoy hanging out with me, people I work with rarely ever go to anyone else. No one explicitly says, "Hey Mark, good job" or "I like hangin out with you dude". I wonder why this doesn't happen.

What can I change about my life that doesn't affect my core personality? Other than that I require fundamental change to line things up more with my personality. I have lots of things that look interesting to me, and I am doing practically none of them, save music. So this is my story as of right now. Escape.

text: it really sucks having to stay at school over christmas break when all i really want is to get out of hell and go home....now i'm not saying i don't like living in Salem, i absolutely adore it, but this year has just been too much and i need a break...i've been so close to breaking down or breaking up one for so long that i just need to escape so here i am once more venting and escaping reality. only problem is it's really hard to escape reality and since my Pixel won't work on the school's network i'm hardpressed to find a computer that will....and it sucks having to stay at school for break....esp when i'm staying in a dorm with only two others and a student in the vicinity that's threatened my life...but what's more i just need to go home to see my parents and my friends....and see if anything's possible with a certain friend...since my fiancee and i broke up at least....on the bright side at least i'm experiencing my first white christmas....too bad i'm stuck here and can't be with family or friends...and yeah i just need a damn break once in a while....that would be nice...you know i've been tempted to transfer out of this school and go home so i don't have to deal with people here anymore but then i think better of it and something else invariably happes....and i've been typing so long dealing with homework that i keep expecting to see those damned red and green lines to appear underneath my text....anyway i'm quite sure that five minutes is over now so here i leave it...longing to go home and denied the hope....

text: t67y7i8p;0

text: t67y7i8p;0

text: Humm, bump, buzz... the day babbles forth and rushes through its standard course... class, work, eat, sleep, love... every day so very like every other. Verily, a great a circuitous river is the name of "day," and every day is a new churning but an iteration of the last.

But what is sought is not so much a new or even a different day. Rather, a slightly varied day. After all, the one we have normally is quite excellent in its routineness and customariness, and we are hence quite good at anticipating the events therein. But we want more; a day more full, but not necessarily more busy; we want a day that is more alive. WE want to be more alive. But can we be any more alive than we already are? Perhaps what we need is a readjustment. But why the hell would we do that, so used to things are we. Besides, if we were to continually readjust ourselves so as to make each day fuller, would we not grow restless over such continual readjustment?

Just lost a round of Neggsweeper. Shit.

And that's just it. Why play Neggsweeper? Why do anything? Is it because we love life? We may, but not necessarily. Rather, it is more frequently because we are used to living and loving. Some might say that we are biologically predisposed to desire to live. Others have justified this habit by calling it holy and each day a god-ordained gift. And there may be some good to bring away from that idea, insofar as we do not HAVE to live through each day. We could end it any time; we are not so incapable so as to be unable to perform THAT. But we choose to live. And it is the why behind that question that constitutes each of our respective volitions, our respective reasons for being.

So, why do we live? Why are we? Can we assent to life, instead of merely tolerating it? or else deny it (for, ultimately, the real nihilist ought to lie down and die of starvation or thirst, since that is the least-energy and least-care possibility for the day)? I think so, but such an assent is difficult. Such was the central concept of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra": 'the heaviest weight' was the notion of assenting to everything as it has happened and embracing and demanding life, regardless of its thorns and barbs.

Good day or night all,
Jon

text: No matter what I write, someone I know is bound to read it. Such is the nature of the internet, after all--you don't put stuff online unless you want it to be seen. And yet the more personal the topic, the less I actually want people I know to know about it. Rather awkward sentence, that one. My mother forced me to keep a diary for a while, sometime during elementary school, and after I finished writing each entry she would come in and critique it, and maybe she thought she was improving my writing, but more than anything else that exercise taught me how to hide my thoughts from paper, to write hundreds of words and have none of them really mean anything. Maybe that's what happened to my application essays, and it's a bit dumb to still be hung up over those, yes?
And since starting my blog I've found I really can't write anywhere else, at least not about myself and whatever it is that I want to vent about. Probably residual aversion to a paper diary, where every word and mistake is permanent and handscrawled into illegibility sometimes. Having everything in digital text makes it so much more nice and impersonal and easier to deal with. Usually. I hope.
why is it that every time i try to write here it turns into metawriting?
So I figure if someone I know must read what I have to write it might as well be people farther away where they can't too spontaneously call or drop by and force me to talk about what I 've written. I don't want to deal, okay? I just need to say this somewhere.
It's not something I need now [or, I'm inclined to think, ever], and I can think of at least twenty people from whom the end I'd never hear if it does happen. And I have never trusted anyone [including myself] enough to expect it to work out well. Feelings be damned, as they've always been, but I don't really know how much other people might value their own, and I went through enough grade-school indoctrination to always be careful of those. Too careful, probably. Mine, I'd sell for cash.
I'm expecting definites tomorrow [today?] sometime in the afternoon.
Apprehensive, yes. Afraid, I don't think, but then I've always doubted that I'm capable of admitting fear at all.
It's been far over five minutes, and of course there are things I've been putting off, but it would have been impossible to do anything with this stuff still on my mind.
Thanks.

text: Hello, yes yes this ins 5 minutes of completley one huge bunch of ramble.. i dont know how i ended up at this site i think i took a wrong turn somwhere.. Alwell cooking chips and choco muffine.. sMsM MmmM muffins are goood... I fried them, i dunno if you can fry muffins but allwell there you go, it came into my head so i'm now frying mufins... schools shit, as allways, my skinny Psykics teacher seriousley needs to get a life the poor old one-tesitcalled freak. Somtimes i wish peple could roll up into balls and die. Like my Physics teacher... Hitler was one other who had one ball.. "hitler, hes only got one ball..." yer yer you know the song.

hmm.. food is really good... yes thats my 5 mins i thinks :\

text: Here I am again, every time I am depressed I end up here. What's wrong with me now? I guess I'm just lovesick. I've never been like this, I got out of a bad relationship a year ago. I found out love can be bad, very bad. I spent a year, just floating, no love, just life. Now I throw all that away in just one day. I can't get her out of my head. What do I do now, I'll never forget her, but she is gone, & the only way I'll ever see her again is to go to her. But will she have me?

It takes only a second to find a special person, a minute to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

Again I say, I am not afraid to die, I am afraid to live.

text: It's like the world got up and walked away. Where the hell did it go? Did I accidentally walk into purgatory? I suppose I should meditate.

text: my name is scott and im an alcoholic.............. just takin the piss i am fukin bored cant think of a thing to do never mind write the most exciting thing ive done in the past month or 2 is going to a newcastle match hey but that only lasted a couple of hours for the other 1 month, 30 days and 20 hours all ive done is watched the tv or went to my dads. the word that explains me the most is bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored and bored

text: what im thinking now: the girl i like, the girl i like, the girl i like, the girl i like, porn, the girl i like, the girl i like. the reason love is subbed for like is becasue love shouldn't be thrown around like a piece of shit. i.e. me

text: i like chips and playing the guitar basketball, bitches mother fucker dude ass book fuck ash, illegal games wares movies rejects social destuction may let it decided destiny whjy> dunno but one thing has come of this imperil mollition maybe if we all, i mean i, had the balls to ask her then maybe, just maybe i wouldn't be here sitting, tpyeing lookimng what to type next, well what the fuck im here and thats that. i will, someday, maybe sooner than i think meet someone worth thnking about but until then fuck it im on my own, i know what you;re thinking 'you're not alone, no' why dont you sty with e tonight? why? cos i dont fuckin want to be with you i want to be with her and have a fun time like i used to but fuck i can't aint got a good reason for her to like me, me a social reject, well we are all individuell apart from those asses that walk around hitting starting noth for something, you know them, i know them but if we team up against them then we would become what they are, sheep, fucking sheep. no ones on the road beach are fucking land were you really are, i just don't want to end up in a nine til five, just sitting there wondering when my time will come!! not to die, but to change what i can change like free will, to something to something i deserve, not to be born into a world where people are working as a machine to live in on big ass place where everything WORKS!! i don't fuckin want that shit, i want everyone to live the way they want, aparet from thse fuckin idiots that do the stuff the majority think is wrong, even if it makes them happy and not us let them go until they relise. i've taken this type to type what i was thinking of, and from now will pst something when i want to, not when im told do, and dont think that im typing this to please you, FUCK YOU AND EVERYONE Here apart from the people that undersand what i do.

text: Today is so beautiful, and yet I feel so empty, isolated and alone. It's a perfect day to dry to the coast with the top down and the wind rushing through my hair with nothing holding me back. I just don't have that special someone any more. The worst part about a dreams is when you awake to realize that is was just dream and nothing more. How sad is that...you will understand when it happens to you.

text: poop

text: I really like to write. i mean, REALLY like to write. If I wasn't so interested in Forensic Science, being an author would be my other occupation. Aside from that, I'm quite interested in using sprites, preferably Megaman sprites. Even though I have no clue at all how to use them, I am searching fiercely to find out. I wonder why I do things like that-I like things I can't understand. Hmmm...what else? I like games more than most people. By that I mean I like games more than most people do. And by that I mean I like games more than I like most people. Even though my 5 minutes are up, I still feel like writing. I have a crush on this girl who has dirty blonde hair, cute freckles on her nose, and a sense of humor. I don't know when I should make my move. I'm nervous...Well, I'm finished typing. It's weird that something as simple as writing can make you express your innermost feelings without you even knowing. Hey...thanks!

text: &&&&&

text: &&&&&

text: wow, ok, been a while since i did one of these . and, appropriatly, alot has changed. maybe alot hasn't.... we'll see. anyway, the girl i was head over heels for dumped me like a sack of shit, leaving me feeling... well, like a sack of shit. it started going downhill from there. got kicked out of school, getting kicked out of my home, and the general kicking abuse. doesn't help much that the people i socialize with have trouble understanding anything that doesn't directly affect them, so yeah.... this should really be going in my blog, but i figure someone is studying people like me, so this should help. i'm a lab rat!

text: Doin' this at work, so maybe five minutes won't happen -- you never know. Then again, I have most of the week to do ... one more powerpoint presentation. That is, to create it. Ooo, I don't think I'll finish it. Right. I figure I'll work on my website a bit . . . but I can't help feeling guilty when I do that. I mean, that's blatantly not doing work. When I was working on the design, I could say that I was learning Dreamweaver, but now that it's just contenty bits, I don't really feel like I can do that. That's alright though. I'll probably get bored enough to really not care. I need to get the design up, anyway . . . .

Dad was all like, you need to make a circle of friends down there in houston. Well, yeah, duh, but how the hell do I do that? That's so much easier said than done. Somehow, that sort of thing is just so much more irritating when it comes from him than from anyone else. Like maybe he doesn't have the right to say things like that. It's like . . . . parenting. And dad didn't really give that sort of lecture or anything as I was growing up, at least not that I remember. Is it bad of me to feel that way? I really feel like it must be. You shouldn't dislike your father. You should love and respect him. I just don't know why.

text: I wonder how much I'm missing... Fuck that; I wonder how close I am to not missing out. If only I could turn back the clock to an opportunity lost. Idiot! I have to be stronger, and better. Rawr.

text: I can't remember the last time I felt like this. The last time I had these thoughts. It seems like it's never been this bad, but I'm sure it has. It's probably been worse. I just can't think of when. I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't been on time to any class but diffeqs in so long . . . even japanese, I'm late for. And now I'm paying for it, paying in blood for my own stupidity, and yet I can't seem to make it better. How can I make it better? How can I figure out what the hell is going on, how can I make it so that I understand, how can I make it right? Adrift feels like the right word. Adrift, on a sinking lifeboat, with land in sight but out of reach and getting farther away. I feel weird, saying all this, but . . . I've never had these thoughts so strong before. I've never wanted so much for it to be over, to take the easy way out. I know I'll get through this -- I have enough will for that. But I don't know how to fix it. Life just sucks so bad and it's all my fault. There's no one else I can blame.
There's a hole in my heart where my soul used to be. It dropped out sometime when I wasn't looking. It burned away with the final flight of a glorious bird, leaving an aching emptyness and a fear for us all. I weep for the lives that were lost. I weep for their families and friends. I weep for NASA, having lost so much. I weep for the nation, and what might befall us. I weep for those who cannot see the tragedy, and I weep for those who can. I feel the emptiness in me, and I weep because I cannot see it reflected in those around me. I wish I was in Houston, to mourn with those who care. To give what comfort one more voice can bring. But I cannot be there. I am here, and I weep in silence, unheard.

text: I miss my sister. I miss my life. I can't ever seem to wake up - just going through the motions all the time. I need to be out, I need to be learning, I need to be making myself MORE. I'm not anything at the moment. I live through other people. I don't have my own energy - I thrive off other people's energy. It becomes a drain on them after a while. I sleep, I work, I drive, I sleep. I have no conversation - my brain is a pool of stagnant water. I run away from the mundane life I lead by sleeping, but it's getting to the point where I can't even wake up. I want to be more - I surround myself with people who seem larger than life to me, and I feel very small, and I want to be MORE. No one is attracted to nothingness - I need to focus some of my energy on myself, on things I want to do and learn. It's hard, though, when life seems so pointless - why pick a direction, why make plans? Nothing ever works out the way it's supposed to, so why not just go day by day? I don't think that's a particularly bad perspective on life, so long as the days are somewhat productive, and not simply repetetive. I need to learn. I need to make myself more, so that I am my own reason to live. And I need to stop feeling so lonely - my someone will come along, or they won't. No need for me to sit around waiting for them - I should go out and find myself, and see who else is looking for me. Just one more month, and I'll be on my way....

text:

text: Today feels like summer! Yeah! Ahh. Firstly, you absolutely must see engrish.com-- Browse and be much happy. It is your pleasure to be seen the funny. "I wonder why coffee tastes so good when you're naked with your family." And you *have* to listen to 'Frontier Psychiatrist' by The Avalanches, as well as 'Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots' by The Flaming Lips. The former is loopy, and... so is the latter. :D
Oh!! And possibly the best rendition of Romeo and Juliet is a flash movie under the name of 'leetrom.swf'. I got it on an unlikely site, specwhore.com. It's 1337 (w00t).

text: This is a sad, sad way to get original storys, but I must say, its new by me. I could tell a story about a dog, a pig, and an elephant, but we don't want to hear boring stuff like that, do we? No, I should say not. Perhaps we should looks through my IM logs? Sos yous don't wants to? Sounds like Gollum, creepy thing that he is. He wants it! The Presciousssss.... the prescioussss... and... I forgot my line! shoot... oh, well.. What now? How did I do? Is that... hey, did you turn the camera on? YOU IDIOT WORTHY OF PAIN, YOU HAVE CAPTURED MY VERY DEEPEST THOUGHTS, and(opps)...AND SEALED IT ON PAPER!!!! THAT IS... cool, I guess. *shrugs* Better than the tapes of myself I used to record talking... hmmm, did you hear those? I suppose you did, although I don't remember showing them to you. You probably had Sara show you, didn't you!? Tell me! oh, well... I made a gnu word today. wUt. wUt(wu-UH-tt). means "what", if you didn't catch that. Another one I made was vyking. Sounds, looks(almost), and means(even that!) the same thing as Viking. Anyhoo, I think I have blown my fiyv minutes of your time. and don't ferget to drink yer milk! m00!

text: hehehe, I dunno what write about, I lke X-Plane, my Bike, which is full suspension, I lke learning, but lately that has showned to be a little bit harder than usual and....
well.... haven't the 5 min past yet?
goto www.x-plane.com,it worth you buy it,
well
k, sorry about wasting the space writing about almost nothing.... seeya!

text: It's raining and physics is pointless, so I decided to stay in the student center for an hour. I should be doing something useful, but I don't know how much I really want to. I have plenty to do, though. And since I'm doing stuff this weekend, I really need to get everything done even up to for next week. Monday, at least. I should try to have my dynamics homework done before eight next tuesday -- otherwise I'm screwed, since i'd like to be able to watch JAG and smallville, then watch buffy (having taped it at eight since I'll probably get to watch JAG with tracie). New shows are good. Keyboards that are extremely hard aren't good. Argh. I shouldn't have to slam my fingers down to get the keys to press. The backspace is especially hard to hit. Grr. St00pid computer lab. I'd be printing stuff out -- like my webassign, or maybe specific pages out of the Legynds players guide -- but there are way too many people up there waiting for stuff to print. I have another two hours later today, after diffeqs, so I'll probably just do it then. It wasn't too crowded in here on monday at that time. In the mean time, I'm rambling here. If this is supposed to be an escape, why am I writing about school stuffs? Shouldn't I be doing something different? The thing is, I'm happy right now. I like my life. I'm not bored, I actually have lots to do, and it's not all school. Sure, I do have plenty of homework stuffs, but I also have my website to redesign, not to mention Legynds. LARPing should be lots of fun. Social, too. With people I don't know yet. ^_^ Well, and Erin and her cousins, whom I've met. But anyway, it's good. And I talk to people in my classes, so I don't feel alone. I don't feel alone.

text: Here I am, it's 6 months lat er. Now what am I, who am I.? Did I lose myself.? I don't remember. IF I did, would I still want to?
Now that I have left a brainwash, what do I turn to? Why do I feel like I need something? I am Lost. I look at what someone calls the great Lie, Man's self-created reason to live. Society. It never botherd me before. Now it bothers me, pisses me off, & generally makes me feel hopeless. Scratch that,what I hope is not the truth makes me hopeless. I hope & pray(is that worthless too?) the there is a reason to live. I am not afraid to die...I am afraid to live.

E
X

text: GO EAGLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

text:

hi is html allowed

text: get in the oven jew
pick that cotton nigger
get in that mountain chink
give me drugs mexican
whoa i almost got mugged

text: hi hi hi hi hi h i hi hi hi

im gay

text: I could scream. Inside, I am already. It courses through my mind and body, and all I can think about is rattling off a string of curses. I feel like a spring cinched to the point of snapping, brimming with power, an image of sudden violence. At least I feel decidedly alive, or maybe that's the worst part. Fuck, I hate being frusterated. Note the understatement.

text: I am so very very tired right now. I slept for almost 12 hours last night, starting at 7:30 PM and sleeping almost straight through 'til about 6:50 AM. I didn't want to get out of bed, I just wanted to keep laying there, sleeping . . . Working is so different from school. I never really understood that when I was in high school. When I was sick then, I stayed home. I never understood why my parents went to work when they were sick. I understand now. It actually matters that you're at work. You can always make up lessons in school, but you have responsibilities at work that require your presence. You can't just skip. You know something? That really sucks. I wanted so much to skip today, and if I'd been at school . . . well, it depends on what classes I had, but I probably would have stayed in bed. I'm so tired . . . Can't I just put my head down on my desk and sleep for a few minutes? Just for a few minutes . . .

text: I've actually been rather busy at work this week. A nice change. I like being busy. It's better than being bored. Maybe that's why I take 18 hours at school. I really am considering trying to find a way to drop dynamics, because I think Mom may be right, and it may hurt me. low speed, dynamics, differential equations, /and/ physics II? along with 4 hours of japanese and being a COE ta? I think that's a bit much even for my sadistic tendencies. Maybe I'll play with long-term scheduling a bit more when I get back to my apartment tonight. I should call Dad again, too. I wonder if he even checks his answering machine. Another thing I need to do tonight is put lotion on my hands. My right one, especially, is incredibly dry. That happens to me during the winter, but I've always figured it was because the air was so dry. The air isn't dry here, though it is coldish. And my hands were getting dry even when it was warm and rainy . . . Maybe it's a delayed reaction to the poor air quality? Who knows. I need to find last week's paycheck . . . this week's, too, preferably. I had no choice but to take more money out of my savings to keep my checking account above $100. I had put more money into my savings than I needed to, but taking it back out costs money . . . not much, just a couple bucks, but I really should learn to manage it so that I don't need to pull money out. It's supposed to be growing, not fluctuating. I actually signed online last night . . . I was getting into that grumpy, depressed mood I get into when I've been disconnected from friends too long. That is, when I'm lonely. It's not really a conscious thing, at least at first; it's much like stress in that way. I guess it actually is stress, when you think about it. Just a different kind than work or school related.

text: An escalator can never be out of order. The signs shouldn't say 'Temporarily Out of Order' it should say 'Temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convince.'

This shirt is dry clean only...that means its dirty.

My sister says I'm crazy, but she's the one that's crazy! She has a family photo on her mantel and they're all looking slightly to the left...It's like there is something happening to the left and it made them all really happy. Except my sister is cross-eyed so she can't quite pull it off. One eye is dead on.

I was standing in front of a fire exit at a place once and some guy said, "Sir you have to move, you're blocking the fire exit." If you are flamable and have legs you are never blocking a fire exit!

I wrote a script once and my boss said, "Wow that's really good Mitch. Now you just need to re-write it." and I said, "Fuck that, I'll just make a copy."

I like Ritz crackers. I was reading the box one day and it suggested things to put on top of a Ritz. It said, "Try it with ham and cheese. Try it with peanut butter." C'mon man! I like crackers! They never suggested "Put a Ritz on top of a Ritz" I just want some crackers! I didn't buy 'em cause they were little eatable plates....

I went to a club once, and it was pretty cool, they had black lights and I was wearing a black shirt. Most people really like those cause they make every look really cool, but I was under the impression that the mustard stain had come out...

text: okay here i am at work again pulling this god awful 8 hour shift....yeah but i needed the hours this week and i'm covering for two people actually...but it means i have to be away from my bed and my fiancee both and i wish i could see him and then go to bed...but all's well that ends well....when i get off of work tonight i get to go back to my room where my little white kitten is waiting for me....she's adorable and her name...well even though she's white it's not a normal name like snowball or tama or anything of the sort...it's Briar Rose...and she's adorable...and probably asleep too... she's listening to Linkin Park...and yeah i should be working on the newspaper...but i've spent too many hours on that this week...i guess that's what being the editor gets me....but oh well...i could also be doing homework, but yeah i'll get to that...maybe after this...see working here isn't as bad as last year 'cause at least here i get to watch anime....so *YAY*...and the newspaper office got a nice new computer...so i'm happy about that...i get to work with windows instead of a MAC....that was yeah not *YAY*....so i'm happy about that and the first issue is going out next week....and it's late and i'm rambling...but i've only written for about 2-3 min now...and yeah need five....ewww this is kinda gross what i'm watching on tv....but i'm kinda like not watching it 'cause i'm typing and stuff and i don't think it's right of a school to make a student erase something that they feel but offends others...esp if it's in a journal....and yeah this country is headed for hell in a handbasket...i mean come one...look at who's in office...he's just following his daddy's agenda...and yeah this is sedtion....but I DON'T CARE!....let them put the sedtion acts back in place...i'll be the first to go to jail and see if i care...this is a cool movie thought and i think my five minutes are up....no not yet....but they will be soon...and yeah i think i'm just gonna get back to my japanese/spanish chat room....which is fun...so i'm out....

text: I just read over the rambling bio I currently have up. I like reading stuff like that, stuff I've written that doesn't try to use fancy language or symbolism or imagery or anything that doesn't come naturally. I guess I can't do that all the time -- I have to be in a certain state of mind, where my fingers find the keys and just start typing. I love the feeling of it, when I'm writing and the words just flow from me to the page/screen. It doesn't work so well when my fingers are cold, though, since they tend to miss keys. I need to work on Silverhawk. I can't force it, I know, but I need to try to work on it, at least. I need to do a little research for it, too. I don't really have a free weekend for the next couple, but there's always the evenings. It's just so hard to get motivated to do something like that when you're dead tired, like I always am after work. I actually took a nap yesterday. Or was it the day before? Whichever day it was that mom called. Right, wednesday, because Enterprise was coming on. Wednesdays are kinda nice. I only have one TV show to watch, it's a good show, and I can kinda relax. Too much television is bad. I didn't watch CSI last night, since it was a repeat. I'm thinking of watching Firefly tonight, but that's probably not a good idea. I don't need to be hooked, as much as I feel sci-fi needs to be supported. Oh well. I wonder how the crusade to save farscape is going . . .

text: Mm. Planning schedules is fun. I'm going to be a TA for the COE programming course (taught in matlab and java), since my advisor is one of the profs. That'll be fun. It kinda screws with my planned schedule, though, so I'm having fun playing with it. My advisor also recommended that I take Dynamics instead of a fluffier class, since that lets me continue on with my AE courses instead of getting stuck with a missing pre-req next fall. The idea of a heavy load is growing on me, as it always does -- I am such a masochist, I swear. I revel in seeing exactly how much stress and work I can take before I crack. Yay. I'll be upset if I can't take Japanese, though, because I intend that to be my saviour from stress. Heh. A four credit hour class, saving me from stress. Kinda seems oxymoronic, doesn't it? Here's what I plan to take:

Differential Equations (Math 2403) - 4 hours
Intro to Physics II (Phys 2212) - 4 hours
Intro to Japanese (Japn 1001) - 4 hours
Low-speed aerodynamics (AE 2020) - 3 hours
Intro to Dynamics (AE 2220) - 3 hours

In addition, I'll be a TA, so I'll be attending that three hours a week. yay. I wish I could post a picture of my intended schedule up here. It's kinda shiny. It does depend on which COE I'm TAing, though. Section C interferes with Japanese, but B interferes with low-speed, which then moves up to 9:30, which screws up difeqs and makes things messy.

Yay for "safety and total health day." No work is allowed 'til 3:30. It's currently 1:30. w00t.

text: A taste of heaven is torture to one who is damned.

text: Urrrrrrr. I couldn't figure out why I was (am) so tired this morning, since I managed to get to bed before 10:30. At some point, I finally remembered that I took a benadryl around 10PM, because my chest was hurting. I think I remembered that because my chest started hurting again. I usually try not to take benadryl if I need to be functional less than 8 hours later. I need to up that limit to 10 hours, 'cause this thing keeps me dead for at least that long. Hell, I took it twelve hours ago and it's just now starting to let go. I can think a little bit now, which is handy. I still won't be useful for very much 'til after lunch, I bet. I wonder if benadryl also makes me hungry? I was still hungry after my ceral this morning, which was kinda strange. I'm going back to the apartment for lunch today, 'cause I didn't feel like dealing with meat and dry bread. Aunt Rhonda was right -- if ya toast the bread with seeds in it, you don't taste the seeds. W00t. I did burn the toast just a bit, though. I ate it anyway, because I was hungry.

I wonder what would happen if I tried to write something like my book or an essay in this condition. It either wouldn't happen, or it would make no sense but I'd like it anyway because it'd be ... interesting. Hm.

text: Wow, but I'm pathetic.

I guess I listen to an odd collection of music. For a couple years, I seriously didn't listen to anything but jpop. I still listen to that more than anything else, but at the moment I don't have any way to get new songs, and I'm getting a little tired of the ones I have. I listen to the radio more often now, though I get irritated with the talking and commercials and bad music. I get tired of listening to the same 5 songs everytime I turn the radio on. But I do like some Creed songs, and I think I like Default, too. I woke up to 'Disarm' the other morning. My favorite song by the Smashing Pumpkins. That was a good morning. Right now, sitting at my computer at work, waiting for a CD to finish burning so I can put another one in, waiting for data to finish downloading so I can convert it and organize it so I can later burn it onto a CD, I am listening to Ani DiFranco. Revelling was this morning; now it's Reckoning. I love these CDs, I really do. They're perfect for work. I've always liked Revelling better, but I don't know if I ever paid attention to the entirety of both CDs before. Revelling is certainly more upbeat -- hence the name, I think -- but they're both very, very good. I have Dilate with me, too, so if I get bored with R&R I can switch. I want to see Ani in concert again. The only concert I've been to was one of hers, two years ago, I think. Went with caifly-cat, with Kat and ... Gian, I think, sitting elsewhere. Goodtimes, that was. I have two t-shirts -- I want more.

I also want an evil minion shirt. ^_^ Yay for new megatokyo shirts. Yay for tohya-san. Yay for caifly-cat standing in line and getting me a sketch of miho! ^_^ *happygryphlet*

Life is good, right now. My perception of it changes from moment to moment, but at this moment, I am content. Content is maybe not a good thing -- leads to complacency, which leads to stagnation, which leads to bitterness and restlessness and loneliness and boredom. But I don't care about that at this moment.

text: I guess this is for anyone, and this morning, I really need to just talk a bit and relax. I have to go down for a blood test. Just the regular general to make sure everything is in order. But see, I have a PHOBIA of needles. I give myself credit though for being able to handle myself calmly. I suppose now you might say it's just a really horrible fear. I know that no one likes needles and I'm not the only one who dreads stuff of thise nature. But I'm still frightened out of my wits and would sooner dig myself a hiding place under the floorboards than walk in there and let them poke around on me. It has to be done though, and I want it done to be sure I'm okay. You could say I haven't been keeping up with this stuff like I should have been. Okay, that's me five.

text: Sometimes I glimpse reality's untold secrets, flitting on the edge of consiousness. Each piece is overpowering, the building blocks of what would seem to an onlooker as impossible fantasy, the very essense of being manifested in an idea, a feeling, a living memory... A dream like a vaguely familiar scent. Crushing emotion, the source as obvious as a crystal is clear, yet clouded by not-quite-truths grown by life under the shroud of expectations.

I write my thoughts on water, the currents I barely sustain, each moment threatening to shift them into meaningless ripples of the past. I bear the curiosity like a cat transfixed by the darkness in a paper bag, not allowed to venture inside. How many other times have I failed to remember a moment? Had life and death not been hiding here, the terrible enigma with which my mind tortures me, I'd have lost it already. I am screaming inside, trying to rationalize. I will pass for sane, though, because I know what others expect. Everyone does.

text: So much to complain about. I'm sick as fuck, my head hurts, i'm hungry, my ribs are killing me, i'm o so tired.... but i realized today that it doesn't really matter, because I found the one that makes it all worth it. And I'm not complaining.

text: I think I know who the kung-fu jedi master is . . .

Whee. I just got done with a presentation on the stuff I've been doing for the past month. I feel like I've been beaten, pounded into the dirt, ground into a pulp and left to rot. "Why did you do this? Why do we care? Why didn't you do this? Is that even relevant?" And on and on and on. That was the NASA guy, our big boss, btw. He managed to jump ahead, sometimes by a moment, sometimes by many slides, pointing out things that /I/ was going to point out later. Argh! And making me feel like a total nitwit, dumb, understanding nothing. And then at the end, he tells me I did a good job. Apparently, that's just how he is -- tough, demanding, but maybe he's more impressed than he lets on. That's what Elenor said, anyway, and I believe her. Several other people said that I did a good job, too, so it's okay. I'm still recovering, though. That was a hard 45 minutes.

text: Sometimes, I just feel like killing time. This is one of those times. Bah.

I've found that the strangest things make me randomly and absurdly happy. Like the fact that the plural form of thesaurus is 'thesauri'. This fact brings a smile to my face - I wonder what that's all about. Conversly, some of the strangest things bother me, too. Like the phrase 'have spent'. It just doesn't sound right, and I find that to be very unsettling. And don't even get me started on things such as 'continue on' or 'past history'. I can't even believe these are accepted phrases. Well, actually, yes I CAN believe that, when I think about most people's grasp on the English language. Foreigners speak our language better than we do. Very sad indeed.

This was a completely pointless waste of time. I feel better. =)

text: so I finally get around to sending a draft of the presentation I'm giving next week to my project manager. He comes over, looking a little confused, wondering why I did this one thing. He said we'd talk about it tomorrow, but I went back to try to figure out why he was so puzzled. I thought I'd figured it out -- I was using the wrong random number generator. Makes me feel a little dumb, but I feel okay about having figured it out. So I run all the relevant propagations again, update the powerpoint, and send it to him again with a little note as to what I did. So he comes back over and says, "no, you'd been using the right one . . . Let me see your code." So I do. He changes a few things, things that I would swear to goodness are simply stylistic things -- I mean, he took out my type declaration simply because it's implied that anything starting with letters i through n are integers. In my book, redundancy keeps you from getting confused, but whatever. anyway, he changed a couple other tiny little things, things that I'd say shouldn't have changed anything, and lo and behold, it worked right. So he's kind of pitying me, especially since I demonstrated that I'd wasted time and sanity typing things over and over when of course there's a shortcut. And now I'm sitting here, feeling like an idiot, angry because it shouldn't have worked, mad also because I'm starting to think maybe it should, but irritated because it means that the whole implicit typing thing isn't really implicit unless you say so or it's an integer, which is just so stupid. And I'm feeling useless, because now I just get to sit here while my HP slogs through 3*200*2000 one-year propagations. That's at least 30 minutes.

text: ...and it is.

isolation sucks.

text: *smacks forehead*
ugh. it'd be good if things were ideal. and it'd be bad if things were frusterating... oh wait, they are.

text: it's been a year, and we still haven't really learned....can we ever? or better question: WILL we ever? and why is it so hard for us to learn....we're not children anymore, and yet we still act like them....we're still the same self-centered "what's good for me?" thinking peoples...is that what it means to be american? if so i don't want it...life has a funny way of throwing brick walls in our path just to make us stumble...well we're supposed to learn from those brick walls and yet somehow as a nation we don't...we're still just as bad as we were last year...so where's the wisdom and insight we were to gain from that experience? are we still too short? or were we just not looking? or is it that as a nation we just don't care....so yeah...we're still children...and i doubt that's ever going to change....let's have as much fun as we can while we can 'cause from the moment we're born we're dying...we only live to die...so have fun at everyone else's cost...the threefold law and the golden rule obviously aren't paid any attention anymore so yeah just whatever....have fun...and just don't care...we'll all die anyway....who cares when or how...

text: least helpful error message ever: "bus error (core dumped)"

Argh. I sometimes forget how frustrating programming can be. Forget for a moment that I'm dealing with math that is waaay over my head; the programming itself is going to kill me eventually. Argh argh. Fortran is so old . . . pain. Lots of pain.

text: It's already 2:30 in the afternoon. What have I done with my day? Absolutely nothing. Not the nothing I've been doing the rest of the weekend, but rather just wasting time. I laid in bed for a while after my mom called, then ate lunch, then took a shower, and now it's 2:30. What a waste of a day. I hate it when I do that. I guess it's okay 'cause it's a holliday, but then again, that doesn't really feel like it matters. I need to call my grandparents, but I don't feel like doing that yet.

I updated my site last night. I was out of sorts all day yesterday, so I cleaned my bathroom and rambled about myself and my life. Who was it who asked me about my life, a couple years ago? Someone said they wondered about my background, or something. About why I do what I do, about my history. My little project was supposed to do that, but that got lost along the way. Sad how many of my plans get lost. I guess that's just life, but it's still sad.

So now I'm sitting here, drinking tea that is both bitter and sweet and maybe not warm enough, and wondering what I should do for the rest of the day. I need to go to the grocery store, but I don't really feel like it. I want to play ddr, but i know the mall will be crowded, since it's a holliday. Maybe I'll go after work some time this week. Better to go on a work day, I think; fewer people there.

I have conflicting desires. I want to . . . stuff and things. I want to be surrounded by friends. I miss my friends. Even if it's online -- but I'm terrible at making friends online. I'm not real great at making friends offline, either, which is sad. It just kinda happens . . . I guess I just don't make enough effort. I think the problem is that I don't talk enough. I guess I just don't have anything to say.

text: Paranoia is dumb. =)

text: Paranoia runs deep sometimes. I know I shouldn't care...but maybe I should? Just because she's not answering her phone, and didn't call last night like she said, doesn't mean she's gone out and done what she swore she wouldn't do...does it? It doesn't matter anyway, he's not interested in me. They're a much better match than he and I ever would have made - she's on his level mentally, and she provides a challenge for him in many ways. I would only bring him down, ya know? It wasn't meant to be - maybe in a parallel universe, but I blew my chance in this one. So why is it bothering me so much that she didn't return my calls last night? The not knowing is the worst part - I'm one of those 'worst-case-scenario' worriers when it comes to things like this. My mind makes up the most ridiculous things sometimes...although, logically, anything is possible. Maybe it's not the 'not-knowing' part that's the worst - maybe it's just the possibilities that make me crazy. Or maybe I'm just crazy. In any case, so what if something did/does happen between them? Who am I to stand in the way? Just because I'm hung up on someone who has no romantic interest in me doesn't mean that he shouldn't be happy with one of my friends - and it shouldn't be a reason for my friend to avoid such a situation if it arose. When it comes to logic vs. emotion, logic should win. It would be best if logic and emotion went hand in hand, but that RARELY occurs. I just don't know. And now, here I am, sitting around the house, too lethargic to really find something to do...and I'm telling myself that I'm not just waiting to hear from her, I'm not just waiting to hear from her...but I think that in reality, I am. And that, my friends, is a sad, sad thing.

Maybe I'll go for a walk....

text: i'm not sure what you want me to write about, maybe this will suffice. would you like me to speak of my ills, or my tragedies? that would certainly take more than five minutes. so let's talk about my joys, you say? that takes over five minutes too, approximately 7 minutes. so let's just babble, and babble I shall. I think that there may be a trick to this, and the reason I'm

text: I have to write about something for 5 minutes, seems easy don't it, now that i'm sitting it's all of a sudden blank, there is nothing to write about, well, that may be so, but can you imagine if you could write something here, what would you write, what would you say? Thought of something, so why the hell aren't you writing something here?

Incase none of you know me (which would be unusual) I am The Amence One, in a lot of forums, i'm well known by a lot of people. I could also be going by the name Milba Micly, which is also my Jedi name (yes, I was sad enough to work it out, don't preach, you know you want to know yours), I use Milba Micly when playing Jedi Outcast online, or in the jedi-outcast.com forum. I could also be known as barrymiller34 or now as barrymiller420.

Like my rant... why not?

text: nee hier ist keiner Jenselmann

text: I have this feeling like I should be working on my story/book, but I don't knkow how much I'm in the mood for it right now. I'd started writing the first chapter, but that was on the computer that is currently residing in Tracie's basement in Atlanta. Not exactly somewhere I can retrieve it from, ya know? So what do I do -- restart it? No, because I rather liked what I had. It had a nice feel to it. So I don't start over, and I don't know where I left of, quite. I could just start writing another part -- maybe even start with the next major scene, which will probably be the next scene in the book, anyway. Yesterday, I kinda tried to start writing another part of it -- somewhere a little further along in the book. Really, the place the story idea started from. I keep going back and writing that. Or attempting to. It's getting harder and harder, for some reason. Maybe I just have difficulties having people wake up. I could just skip the waking up part -- since I have such problems with it, maybe I could just not write that part. Have it start with her already sitting up in bed, or staring out the window. Though looking out the window is going to be significant in this scene, so I guess that wouldn't work. Hrm. But maybe I'll just start on that /other/ scene, the earlier one. The one that really starts it all. See, the first scene that I had been writing was basically introducing the characters, but not the story. I wonder if I could introduce both at once. It'd be easier to grab the readers' attention that way, I think. I'll have to give that a shot. The question is, do I feel like writing now, or would I rather go and get my drug screening done? Maybe I should do that, so when I come back I can write. Either that, or I'll come back and play Return to Krondor for a while. Fun game, that. I think I like the first one better, but I've seen it played so much -- and played it myself, too -- that I can't really go back to the beginning on it right now. I've only played part of RtK, and that only once, I think.

Whose idea was this? I'd guess caifly's, since she's the one who has control over it and stuff. But when did escape get thought up, put up? I can't remember. I really like that we can read over the old ones, too -- it's very interesting. Kind of a public forum, only no one is talking to each other. Bravo, caifly-cat. This was a great idea.

text:

text: "i'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon...."

thats right rivers. in any event, i need this escape pretty badly today. 5 minutes of spewing whatever comes out of my brain sounds pretty nice about now.

my best friend and i are moving on september first. out of this little hell hole tourist town that i call home. seems like i just moved back here from canada, but that was december, which is basically a world away right now. it feels good to be moving agian, to somewhere where theres things to do, people around all year round, jobs, and easy access to my favorite place in the world : the city of Philadelphia. Born and raised there, then exported to Jersey. Preposterous! Also, the love interest also resides close to where I'm moving, so that's a definite plus. No more ridiculous bus rides and train fiascos for us. no no no, a simple hop in the car and im there.

but the interest and i, we've been talking about running away together. not like in that romeo and juliet sense, but still moving away from all the bullshit and starting over. but i'm partially doing that now, so i dont know what to expect. hes been joking about las vegas, and all plutonium in the water aside (http://www.indymedia.org), its a good fantasy. dont know if wed make it a reality, but maybe one day a visit is in order.

im glad to be leaving all the drama of this small town and my insane family and friends behind, going out on my own with my best friend. if we part ways and get our own places, so be it, but right now, it feels damn good to be alive. especially since that sexy boy belongs to me.

viva las vegas baby, yeah.

text: if only it were as easy as clicking that mouse to step away from all of this drama for a few precious moments...
i always knew my life was far from normal, but being swept off of my feet came as a complete surprise to me. its also a huge surprise that i'm so willing to give freely, to share my thoughts and feelings. i dont even share them with myself most of the time,. i just keep it all locked away until i break out the pen and paper or the keyboard and let it flow.
kind of how im doing it now, only its not on some strange site ive never been to before.
kind of like leaving a piece of myself behind for someone else to find one day. maybe to inspire???

it's not as though creation is an anomaly; its the reason we are here. its also the reason i breathe. my goal is to create as much as i possibly can, be it through art, music, writing, emotion, sex, whatever.... as long as i can add something to this shithole world before i die, ill be happy. ill also die happy if i can rely on big corportaions less and less the more i evolve into this skin. support your local buisnesses, and you're supporting yourself, your community. and thats something we're all lacking today : community.

but, fuck the traditional. make your own versions of what is universally recognized and accepted, youll be a better person for it

text: heh. it's an outdated tag-name, relic of back when i still believed in grand gestures and some bit of symbolism. cuts like a knife, i thought, once.
trust yourself, they said. trust your feelings. first impulses are generally right. your subconscious knows more than you do.
the problem is that i'm incapable of doing that. i'm wired to analyze everything before responding. give me the system and i'll navigate it for you, but it has to be the whole, all of it, not whatever bits and pieces happen to drop off the table. it's all right, your intuition will take care of it, they said, but my intuition is so messed up with old shreds of daydreams it can't take care of itself. and it still spills over every once in a crucial while and that's when i believe i can learn all of vector calculus in a week, from scratch. the human mind is a dangerous thing.

text: so one of my friends sends me a link to Andy's computer story and I start looking at skizzers. it's amazing to me how much time people have on their hands. too much time spent staring at a computer screen. been in the biz for eons and remember the days when I used to go to bed with a PC troubleshooting book and spend my vacations attending conferences

now my head feels like it will explode everytime i see another unnecessary electronic gadget - come on how many people are there out there that REALLY need to be plugged in at all times? the technology is great for critical situations and provide me with a nice salary but step back once in a while

go CAMPING....wish i was back there on the lake, the sun and the water - no monitor, no keyboard, no constant jaw clenching and neck pain (well except from getting tossed about by the wave runner!!!)

don't get me wrong, i really like my job but I've learned to separate it from my life
well i don't know where that crap came from - tangents
do people really read through all of these things?

and the 64,000 dollar question - how many of you are getting paid for it, like me?

text: oh my god. this is so fucking annoying! don't know what to think about, what to do. guess i'm gonna sit here beside this crappy laptop. god i hate laptops. got no clue. hmm... surely i could go to beach. but then my stuff would be here. hmm...
guess i'll wait. waiting is interesting. it's a culture. it worked in russia once. doesn't work. here. maybe in the middle europe. dunno 'bout us. usa would be interesting place. the country is pretty cool. i mean, i saw some pictures my father had taken when he was young and was in california. i reckon he's in frisco, dunno. it was great, though.
that girl is a real pain in the ass. was joan baez the one who singed "love is a true pain in the ass". i agree. cheers joan.
really don't listen to that kinda music. father mostly. roger whittaker, in the serie easy-listening-crap. grrreat.
this fucking house music is pretty loud. and guess what. i'm a BIT swetty. it's +30C here. inside this crappy flat...
i thi nk it's much nicer to be in cold that hot. here's more cold than hot. especially in winter. it's phocking hilarious to watch the tourists fall on the streets of helsinki. hehe. =)
oh, the swedish girl. she stopped singing. swedish girls are pretty. i guess this is it. life, i reckon it's waiting. there isn't life if you ain't got anything to wait or look forward to. well, soon i see. got a week or something like that.

text: again again . . .

Maybe I'll try to keep it to five minutes this time. I usually don't look at the clock, don't pay attention. Sometimes -- the short ones -- these have been only a minute or so. That's because I do this while I'm waiting in the SEB for class. Or a group member, in this case.

*puts on her headphones*

So much is happening now. It's really crazy. Sorry, caifly-cat, you'll be getting an email soon. I should have emailed you when I got my news -- you should have been one of the first ones to know. Guess I just felt guilty about not writing a longer email than that, you know? I'll email you tomorrow, I think, between exams, maybe. Or maybe after.

I'm going to Houston . . . that's such an odd concept. So much to do between now and then, not the least of which is passing my exams and packing and moving. That all has to happen in the next three (two?) days. I can't believe the semester is already over. I can't believe that I'm not going to be here next semester.

I need to write that email . . .

Odd. The entire GATech server is down. Every URL with gatech.edu in it is unavailable. I think it's the faseteers' fault. Probably wouldn't be the first time . . .

Doesn't the intro page for this say maybe ten minutes is okay? Maybe I'll extend it to that. Five minutes is up now, and I don't feel like stopping. I'd be writing an email, but I can't. Well, I could, but it would be in a text editor . . . and this computer probably doesn't have editpad. notepad = lame.

Mm, good song. Hikaru Utada is a very good singer. This CD is a compilation of a bunch of her songs. Most of the tracks from her newest CD (deep river) and some older ones. "Play Ball" and "Letters" are my favorite two from her newest CD. Play Ball is currently playing.

Maybe I'll write just a little of that email . . .

Ah well. Not quite ten minutes.

text: I just met the girl of my dreams again. All I have to say is chicks who are into cs rock. It always throws me off, and I don't quite know how to deal with it, because I usually feel stupid talking about computers to anyone but my (guy) friends. Maybe I just need to get out more.

text: kljxjvxcvjljkljkljclkjvljxclkjcklxcxclkxjckjzcklxlkJZXkjxkZXLKZjxklZjxiodujasdjjahsdjkhxcnjkhzjkhdjksahkjhknjxajksdhsdfjk;akfadfjklaj;oejfiojfkasdjjjhdfjkhdfjk;dfjkaj;cnmnvjkdhfsdhjfmjxsnjdkhfbvjhsdfjkheihwfksdhjjksnvlm,nsxm,vvnx,mcnvsjkldhfjkshf;sjklfhsjklfhsjklfhdjklshf

text: Argh. Me getting an A in CS = good, right? One would think . . . but can I be happy about it? No. Because the thought of it makes Tracie sick. It makes her unhappy, because she doesn't get A's. Because she's not getting an A in CS and I am, and its not that I work harder than her, its that I understand it. Intuitively, almost. I can afford to sleep through lecture, can afford to not even go to lecture, because I still can get an A.

Watch me not even pull of an A. It only will take getting an 86 on the final, but it's possible that I won't manage it.

There's nothing wrong with talking to yourself, in my opinion. Everyone does it, and yet, like so many things, most people treat it as something you /just don't do/ because if you do it you're crazy. Then again, maybe I think it's okay because I am crazy.

text: Sometimes I realize I'm just talking to myself, just entertaining the idea. Such a powerful seductress the imagination is, for I fear I trick myself into thinking I'm not talking to myself.

text: you imagine me and give me false powers... stupid you

text: nmbnmbnmbnm

text: eraser != worry stone. I have a worry stone somewhere at home, I think. I used to, at least. They're nice to have.

text: Well, you want 5 miniutes of my time, here goes.

I'm in the navy & the computers here on base suck bigtime I can't download anything so I'm trying to find out how to use FTP, (I'm still lost on that) but I find this site, & you guys seem like some pretty cool people so there is my 5 min, later

if(userisdone) {Postmsg}
if(youdontlikeit&&pretendicare) {postmsg;anyway}

E
X

text: Things are so odd. It's unusual that one thing could be so bad, but be completely true, and not meant to hurt someone at all.

But I don't want to believe that I'm not allowed to have friends. I don't even know exactly what I'm saying. I'm just writing here because everywhere else frustrates me, and leaves me just sitting here, annoyed . . . Or not even really annoyed, but just confused.

Some things here have been really good. Many friendships that I've made I don't want to lose. But I already have lost some. They've already slipped from my grasp, whether or not it was really my fault or someone else's, or both of our faults. I can't really do anything about things that have been, and I can't do anything when I'm being avoided. It's a frustration, and I just bumble about . . .

Who do you want?

text: Why is it that you can complain all you want when you get a bad grade, but if you rejoice when you get a good grade, it's looked at as bragging? That annoys me. A whole lot. I am /not/ the type to want to rub other people's noses in their misfortune . . .

text: I really should keep a copy of my story/book handy for times like this. Maybe put it on my zip disk, maybe upload it to my ESD space, or even to skizzers. I suppose I could stick it on my H: drive, but that would be slightly annoying, since I can't reach that from anywhere but in the SEB. Not to mention that the TAs and such might see it and go "err, that's not graphics work" or something. I don't know if they'd check that, but it's possible. oh well. the short of it is, I finished my quiz before half an hour was up (it took maybe 10 minutes), and so now I'm at a loss for what to do. So I'm typing here, because I enjoy typing. I don't mind this keyboard so much anymore. It's really not all that bad. I want a notebook. I want something small and portable and cute and fast and useful. If I had a job currently, I'd be saving up for it. Or attempting to. Maybe if I get a coop job, I'll do that. Not that I expect to really be able to save much of my money, though I suppose if I'm not near any of my friends, I'll have less occassion to spend it. Houston would be nice. Maybe I'll look at the Lockheed website. Maybe I'll look at laptops. Yes, that sounds good. Maybe, instead, I'll once more check to see if the class I need this fall is open. I can probably get an overload into it, since I talked to the professor about wanting to take it in the fall -- this is the class I dropped this summer, you see. Ah, yes, summer semester. Only two weeks before finals! The though of finals doesn't fill me with dread, interestingly enough. I guess 'cause it's been a short semester, and my classes weren't as bad as things like physics and math. This fall, I'm taking differential equations, physics II, japanese I, marching band, and hopefully low-speed aerodynamics. Hopefully. Yes, that's the one I mentioned earlier. I suppose there's no hopefully about it -- there /is/ another class of it. Just taught by a different professor at 9:30 on tuesday and thursday, so I'd have to leave the dorm at around 9 to make it on time, 'cause it's all the way across campus. While I like the idea of having a class in the French building, that's one heck of a walk first thing in the morning. I'd much rather have the one at 1:00 mwf, since I have a class at noon. I'd still have to hike a bit, 'cause the AE buildings aren't near anything but skiles and tech tower (no classes there).

well, it's been more than five minutes, and the quiz is over, so I suppose I'll end this now.

text: transitions... why are they so odd?

adulthood is an illusion of comfort... there's no real security in it... I could be around for another 70 years +....

or... find myself not quite... "worldly bound", if you know what I mean
tomorrow has no certainty...
but "here" has a feeling of security, that I won't have to find out that I don't like it... I already know I don't.

sometimes it takes being close to death to find this out... physically... mentally... emotionally... any of these... it doesn't matter...
just the virge is all it takes...

text: nyu. why do I always do that? didn't mean to mention it, but I did, and now I'm just hoping they don't. Argh. That's the problem with online journal type things.

Sorry, caifly. I know I owe you an email. I may get to do that tonight, actually. I really should be studying for my CS test, though. 's not going to be wonderfully easy, ya know? Nyaao.

*pout* Don't wanna tell. Don't wanna . . . argh.

So . . . yeh. CS test, and a project due, then tall amounts of homework this weekend, then I finally get to go home. W00t. Looking forward to that.

Tracie is falling over. A little tipsy from her stress-releaving arizona tea. I suppose that happens on occassion.

Didn't I make the comment that many posts here are all deep and stuff? Well, I was only talking about half of them. The other half are kinda like this one. Rambly and not really deep. Actually, this one is more vague than anything else. *pause* This song shouldn't be on again . . . did I restart it without realizing? Maybe so. That happens sometimes.

Going home = good. Very very good. I love it here, but it gets old after a while. I wish I could take a semester off or something . . .

text: Alluring words, obscure games,
All I find are timid dames.

"Cruel Summer." I'd like nothing more than to spend it... Well... Or just.. just talk. So often I see myself cling to the smallest things. But I'm powerless against them. Iron will. Silly, yeah.

"A Hazy Shade of Winter" by the Bangles is stuck in my head. Only in this place could the sky be a hazy shade of winter in the middle of a cruel summer. Sigh, I've been at this for too long. Time for sleep.

text: summer, men in shorts and sandals, sad homeless women , dressed in gold , what does she think about. where does that church lady get her shoes? There must be a special church lady shoe store.

When you get old why not write down things so you don't forget how to do them, like how to check your email. One of my co-workers grabs his crotch all the time. Is it itchy? He's been doing it for years. Take a deep breath. Think of paintings of transitional molecules, no change at apoint to measure, continuum. I almost couldn,t spell continuum.

Who are you

text: What a great idea... A short story would be fun, but there's not enough time, I think. So I'll write a poem instead. Escape.

Into my mind's eye I seek,
That wound which makes me so weak.
The fire of life I find dim,
And that vast, pitch darkness grim.

The stars vanish and the tempest quakes;
Now I'm adrift regretting mistakes.
Emptiness I feel there inside,
A piece of me lost to the tide...

There I am still, just a dark shape,
Like a shadow seeking escape.

text: it's been a long time since i've written here. i've got the rant-blog and all, but that feels different, because i know so many more people that know it exists. whereas this doesn't get viewed with much frequency, not that i know of. i used to write in here a lot, and i read over those entries once and they looked...dumb. full of pseudoangsty pretentious existentialism, and in the end saying not much of any significance at all.
it's been far more than five minutes, because i'm being that much more careful about what i'm saying. even if nobody's going to read this for a while. self-editing. or self-censorship. but it's that much more coherent now, and it doesn't seem right anymore to just cast a stream of consciousness into the ether as fast as it unspools from the mind, and hope it makes sense to whoever wants to bother untangling it. because there are a thousand ways to do that, and none of them will be correct.
there are too many people i haven't contacted in a long time. there's nothing i can think of to say. i wish there were.
anyway, there's finally work for me to do now. i'm going. take care.

text: Umm... what exactly am i supposed to do. Write for 5 minutes i geuss. i think i spelled that wrong. oh well. the chair that i am sitting in is made of grey cloth. Why the heck did i do this? No one care about what i have to say in 5 minutes. Oh well. Umm i guess i will write a poem :).

The Chair i am sitting in is made of grey cloth.
Buzzing around the light is a moth.
The moth is very quite annoying.
It will stop, then move, with me it is toying.
For some odd reason i am writing a poem.
This is kind of weird. i like pop foam.
i don't know what to write but i hope it will rhyme.
5 minutes might not be enough time.
I am bored very much today.
It is summer time. Yay, Yay, Yay, Yay.
My desk is made out of wood.
Writing more? that i could.
But now that i am getting to the end.
My boredom now has been mend.

text: hmm. ok.... so, here I am, see, I'm sittin in me car one day, and all of a sudden it hits me... no, no, not the car, focus. it hits me. I've got no life... no life as in breathing but not... living. so i turn to myself and says, "hey, self" "What, me?" "I think we'z need a life." "what kinda life would we be gettin?" "hmm. good question." So, I set out to find my life. I drove for a while, and came upon a wonderful thing... or so I thought. it appeared to be a small, wooden frame with a bit of glass and such in it.... so'z I began playin with it... I played with it for yrs. and yrs... it started to get slow, and old, and slower, and older... then it broke. no, I didn't break it, it just broke. so my life seemed down. then God turned to me and said "follow the small, frigid, flightless birds". I thought "ok, self, whose the guy w/ the light and wtf is he talking about?" "well, me, I think thz a supernatural. I think he'z tellin you that you need something better than this broken... pos." so, I set out... first, I found me a beehive... nice, but I soon found that it didn't like the box I put it in... it got mad & went away... I soon found a crimson hat. it reminded me of the glass-frame I once had, but I overcame such notions. I found this had had great powers. it was a very good friend.... fast, and all the tings it uses, they be good too... and now I see that what I had, the glass frame, was bad, and what I have now is quite good.....

text: What is it about this that makes people write so freely, so honestly? I guess the same people who post here are or would be as honest in their own journals . . . but maybe not. Maybe it's the fact that people don't go to this place specifically to look for things that /you/ write. At least, maybe that's why I like it so much. I'm just putting words out there into the void (and caifly-cat's email, but that's beside the point), rather than having to tailor it to anyone. And I still do that, unconsciously, in my rambles. I don't write certain things there. I don't seem to write anything important there anymore. It just feels whiny and wrong there. As if I'm expecting people to pay attention, to actually /want/ to hear it. My rambles make me feel like I'm egocentric. Here . . . this is not just me. This is everyone and no-one and everything. It's not all about me. And no one is forced to read this -- not that anyone is forced to read my rambles, but they /do/ read them. That's what they're there for, I know, but . . . knowing that they're read, knowing who reads them, that's . . . intimidating. Stressful, almost. Maybe I ruined the whole thing, back then. But thinking about /back then/ is a bad idea, because it's pointless and depressing. Thinking about this, right now, this escape, this release . . . I dropped a class today. I have this delusion that it's going to make my life a whole lot better, that I'm going to be relatively stress-free. Even though that class only had one homework assignment a week, of which I'd only done one. I guess it's more of a psychological release. The pressure is off. It's one less thing -- and many hours -- off of my to-do list. And I don't have class on fridays now.

I miss you. You're what I miss most about highschool. I haven't seen you since January, and that's so many months past . . . how much have you changed? How much have I changed without realizing? There's no way to tell. I just . . . I know it's probably best that we're at different schools, now, but I wish they were closer, in distance or in schedule. It's hard, barely talking to your best friend for so long. AIM conversations don't cut it.

It's been more than five minutes -- at least two songs have passed on my playlist since I started this, but I just can't stop. It's addictive, maybe. It's better. It's . . .

Singing out into the universe
out to the uncaring, unlistening stars
and rejoicing in the silence
the lack of response is reassuring
the lack of pressure is amazing
Out into the universe
into the neverending darkness
timeless and fleeting
Singing silently into the night

Maybe I'm deluding myself. Maybe more people read this regularly than I think. Given the length of time between posts, though, until this one and my last one, I think not. Happy day.

I suppose that's enough for now . . .

text: Five minutes of writing. I can do that. I haven't had the opportunity to simply write in a while. I miss it. It's nice, to just let my thoughts flow out through my fingers. I need to be working on my story, or my new website, but I don't really have the time to do that. I do, however, have five minutes before my graphics class starts in which to escape from reality. That's a nicetitle for this, by the way. Escape. Writing is a wonderful escape. It's doing what I'm always doing -- thinking -- but more coherently, and with more substance. I sometimes feel so locked in my mind. That's what I need the escape from. Well, that and school. Summer classes suck. I have no idea why I'm doing them. Oh well. It's good for me, or something like that. Even if I do think it's going to kill me and/or my gpa. Ugh. I need a coop job, I really do. A break from school, at the very least. One week here and there just doesn't cut it, you know? Nyu.

At times, I wonder if my life means anything at all. If my life is even real. If I'm real. Am I actually here, or am I a figment of my own imagination?

Depressing train of thought, cut off.

I have a character named Talia Kyree. She is not a perfect character, not a perfect heroine -- perfection is overrated, is boring. Talia is most definitely not boring, at least not to me, who knows her better than anyone. Better than anyone knows her, and better than I know anyone else. She's a part of me, as good characters should be. I suppose the other characters in that story -- Kat, Alen, Danel -- they're all parts of me, too, but Talia is the best defined of all of them at the moment. Kat is more a projection of some part of me onto caifly, interestingly enough. Alen and Danel . . . I'm not too certain about them, yet. Handsome, with a good measure of angst and anger and love in there, too. But I don't really know who they are. I need to sit down with them, talk to them, figure them out. I need to do that with Talia and Kat, to a certain extent, too. Hell, I need to do that with myself, but I'm not quite sure how to do that. I know Talia better than I know myself, which really isn't saying much. Maybe through these characters, I'll learn something about me. Maybe that's the point of writing in the first place. To learn about yourself and the world. Not necessarily to share your views -- writing should be, first and foremost, for yourself. Not for anyone else. I think that's my problem, in all things.

text: musta been a day i don't recall much xcept......i saw this persone eating a banana....i went up and said excuse me, but, thats mine, and he said "john ?, is that you"? could be ....but i'm not really sure what you mean. all i member from there on is that i was being chased by someone screaming for their damn banana! ever have a day like that?....could be happining right this very minute. i'm not really sure.......

text: back to images, i get these horrible images with feelings wrapped up in them. like a beautiful angel, decaying, and with metal structure showing beneath her skin. the gashes and the blood/oil that drip out, and the rust of her wings. and her hair and the way that it's cut and mangled, and the blood tears that come out of her eyes.

and the field of roses, covered in a layer of ice, with dead bodies beneath, and a black sky above. and a carnival going on along side this. the kind of carnival that you see in horror movies, except this one is real.

i think i'm being influenced by outside sources too much.

text: This is where the hurting starts, this is where a nightmare begins, the face of a devil in a mirror faces that of an angel. This is where pain flourishes, an oubliette of the finest craftmanship, behind the eyes. A mirror is an altar to God. Hell is other people, said by some, and there we are in agreement. Synapses firing, the speed of thought is equal to the speed of light.

text: This grape juice isn't cold. I placed it in the fridge a little under 12 hours ago, and it hasn't managed to be cold yet.

For a few moments today, i was a loser. Just me and the demo for Warlords: Battlecry. My demonic armies pillaging and being pillaged. Cute little MRAR! earned the rank of death knight. Of course, i should have been working on my essay.

When i write here, i imagine that i'm writing to no one, or that i'm writing to christina. i think christina started this? or made this incarnation? i'm unsure. usually i just try to think that i'm not writing to anyone.

Between Poe and Tapping the Vein the cruelest possible music has been assaulting my ears. Music that's tone and context takes the things that should be bothering me most and throws them in my face.

I feel poetic, and yet... the only person i could share my poetry with... i don't know how she'd react to it. So i'm working on not being poetic.

I dislike people. I hear her say it while she drives... how she hates people "not you, though". except it isn't people in traffic that bother me... it's the ones i've talked to. it's the ones i was friends with. it's those people that bother me.

I realize i don't matter anymore, but then someone says that they should have a say in my life, and i wonder what makes them say that. And i hear what people say about me, and i wonder why they say that. and i hear so many lies that i just don't listen anymore. and then a truth or two appears, and i don't know what to make of it. how did truth get in there? truth, from lies?

at times like these, i really just want someone to talk to. i'm tired of school, i'm tired of essays, i'm tired of faux amis, i'm tired of so much... but having someone to talk to isn't one of those things. neither is being with her.

people prove to be some of the most insightful, fake, and annoying creatures i know. They amaze me both with what they figure out and with what they pretend they've figured out. i just wish it weren't all about me, and i wish they wouldn't be so public with what they have to say.

at this point, i realize i have essays to write and somewhat cool grape juice to drink, and maybe a certain someone to call. i think i'll skip right to that last one.

text:

text: existence. yes, perhaps you don't notice the spelling mistakes, or perhaps you choose to make them...hmm...i don't know. i think things have changed, though, and it doesn't matter as much.

noise...incessant clicking, the sounds of deckard cain and potions...i'd make my music louder, but lately the headphones have begun to give me a headache. i've gone through several batteries in my cd player...blocking out stuff hasn't been easy. i've begun to consider the possibility of not having any friends...or at least not very many, not hanging out wif people. some people...interest me...i've begun to meet them, one or two at a time, mostly because i've divorced myself from my roommate and i'm free. a bizarre freedom, but...sweeter than many i've experienced before. sweeter because i can identify it, of course. why else would it matter?

so...number of possible majors i'm seriously considering has expanded a bit...now includes mathematics. it's a strange sort of pleasure i derive from it, but it exists. i enjoy it.

i've also begun to appreciate my search course...we're being force-fed religion, it seems, but i've learned a lot about christianity and judaism. a good thing, because all of the notions and opinions i have about them were formed during childhood, and not the kinds of things one should trust. i understand things more, now...not that i'll be converting back to christianity anytime soon, but i don't think it would be too crazy an idea to minor in christian science.

except that it would be, whatwith my grand designs and goals as of late...there are too many classes to take...too many things i want to do, and i don't know how well i'll be able to pick out a small enough number so as not to kill myself. yes, if i make it to cmu, things will be easier. classes will be much simpler, for sure...i've never been killed by challenge, and sometimes i doubt it's possible. when i'm allowed to concentrate, and i care...i never do terribly. and if i do end up there, concentration is exactly what i'll get. either i get thrust into cs or physics, either of which is fine. and i can focus...nothing else to take, nothing else to worry about. nowhere else for me to want to be, to lie awake at night dreaming of being in a different bunk bed...

apparently my brother has managed an hundred-and-three percent in his math class...i wonder what he'll do in college? i've no idea. never have, really. not for myself, either...things just...seemed to come together. i was pushed a bit, of course...physics and math are my own desires, but cs...there're people to blame, or person. i don't mind...i enjoy it. i'm not too bad at it, either. i do a better job of figuring out programs than probably anyone else here...things just...work. make sense. there're approaches, but...syntax is easy to memorize, and how hard is it to figure out how to implement an algorithm? maybe i'm sheltered, but...i think some people would be suprised.

escape...i forgot where i was, what i was typing. and now it seems to be a bit long, and i'm conscious of it...but...it doesn't really matter. how can you hurt me, even if you do understand the way i think?

text: I met someone. I think this is the person for me. He seems to be genuine, trusting and loving. All the things I need in a person. My only concern is my family acceptance. You see he is of a different race than I am. Also, my daughter's acceptance of him is very important. I do hope that it works out. At this time in my life I need someone close to me. Someone to share my dreams, my goals, my likes and diskiles. Someone to be my best friend, my lover, my partner.

text: escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. escape.. es (just my 5 minutes)

text: i've written here before, a big long essay about how i hated life and *blah* it all goes through one ear and out the other most times and some sentances get replaced with words that *blah* and then i feel like i go on somewhat and not even the crazy people in my newsgroup hangout who are crazy and on medication can accept me because *blah* and i'm in my I.T class, surrounded with the horror and the real stabbing of my deadline when there is no *blah* and i'm generally wishing preying smoking all my breathing in my quiet desperation that the weekend will not come because you know i feel somewhat scared for the weekend. i don't want the weekend to come. i never have been scared of a weekend before but now i am. i'm petrified of the weekend. this is what this 5 minutes is about really. i'm scared for the weekend to come. not stupid meaningless nervous, not scared as in "ahh, the weekend, run!" nothing so teenage and pethetic. i'm petrified too scared to move and sentances come and go and all and all this time i prey hope and breathe that the weekend does not come because last night i saw a godzilla toy of mine walk across my table and move and it seemed to dance, this may seem somewhat stupid to you all but this is getting to me now. i'm scared that at the weekend if i go out into town like i always do i'm going to be crushed by Godzilla and die. You may find that funny and non-realistic, but jsut accept that this is very real to me.

My friends don't believe me, they say i'm being "dilusional" again, but i'm not i swear this is as real as the grass under my feet when i'm in a field. So please listen to me someone anyone just hope the weekend does not come, because i don't want to die, and i don't want to be killed by something that i thought was only fiction until now. I hate it when my friends say i'm just going through another "crazy" patch because they never, ever, ever understand that i'm not crazy and it's just those bastards telling me lies. They can't understand and i don't blame them, you know i accept and acknolage all the facts all the lines imbetween, but i just wish they would not laugh in my face when i tell them that i'm going to die at the weekend. Maybe it'll be something else and this thing has just taken the form of Godzilla, but listen to me someone, don't just laugh in my face, i promise you so much that i'm going to die at the weekend. i know i am. something is going to kill me. and that's why i don't want the weekend to come.

I never realised just how scared of death i really was. and i'm scared to carry on in this lesson. and i'm scared that the media will see this and tell lies about me. I guess that does not matter to any of you. This is my escape. Please someone just listen to me maybe. You don't need to believe me, just don't laugh in my face.

I just want someone i can talk to. i feel so very alone. and so very, very scared.

text: Its been so long since I've TALKED to anyone... Oh, I don't mean I've been silent - I exchange words with people regularly - some even think of me as "chatty"... But I haven't actually honestly TALKED in so long... It was the summer time, tho I don't remember what year - down in Mayo, sitting by the ocean... Watching the tide come in, cover the island we were sitting on, in the middle of the bay... We were both camp leaders, but it was our afternoon off... I remember when the others came out from their classes, and saw us, just sitting, talking on the island, barely enough dry rock to sit on... One of the teachers came out to us in the speedboat - we told him we were ok, I think he understood the difference between TALKING, and just words... He brought a class out windsurfing later, kept them away from the island... I was grateful for that, but it was another week before I got to thank him, with one thing and another....

Its a nice memory...

text: i went to a rodeo. it was fun. for a while, though. not after a while, though. once i realized that everything i do to try to look pretty and try to get someone, anyone to notice me, was in vain, i got very unhappy. very very unhappy.

i thought about steve. the candle in my darkness, the one who makes the next day worth waking up for in such a major way. i'd wake up if he weren't there, but it's more fun when i wake up and know that i can talk to him. and that he'll talk to me. i don't want to say that i love him, but i'm getting there. dangerously close. and i use such a negative term for love, because it's not good. at least to me. it means pain and hurt and abandonment. he'll leave me, as all the others did and all the others will. guys do that to me. they ignore me, or leave me. yes, for a while, they'll have their fun, but after they grow bored, i get tossed to the side. i'm not usually lucky enough to be the one who tosses them first.

horses are so much better than men. but you can't lay at night in the arms of your horse. you can't have it whisper sweet nothings in your ear. yes, it'll whicker in your ear, which is cute and all, but it'll never say "i love you." those are the words i long for. i live for. i need. but i don't want empty words. i don't want it if its not real.

my hair is done. my make up is done. and i'm sitting at my computer, while my friends are at prom, and i'm crying. i don't want to hurt. inside or others. i want to love and be loved. i want to be in san diego. i want to be at college. i want to be occupied. i want steve. i want me.

text: It's funny to look around and see familiar faces. It makes me feel lonely. all those familiar faces, and yet i don't find comfort in any of them. it's almost mocking to have to look at them. i haven't found a way not to see them, though. they're everywhere. She tells me she can protect me from them... i'd like to believe her. To think that she can protect me where i can't protect myself... ah well. I'm sure she'll do so. She always seems to pull through. Until then, however, i have to put up with seeing the names and faces everywhere. And it makes me question the past... it makes me wonder if i had ever reached out and touched any of those people, if they ever really existed. Now they're just online personas, people who (until recently) had their names up on my buddy list, "just in case."

What makes this even more funny is how much i enjoyed talking to people. People made me happy. No, i don't mean that in a popularity contest sense. I liked being close to someone and helping them. I liked sharing who i was with them, and helping them through hard times. Being able to reach out and help someone was just... rewarding. Granted, most people whom i helped would forget about me in a few days, but... the closeness i had would remain, in a way. They'd come back to me if they had another problem. That meant a lot to me... in order for me to go to someone when i had a problem required a great deal of trust. It was nice to be trusted.

And slowly things change. I grew apart from people... i felt betrayed by them, or felt that i'd betrayed them in some form. Trusts were broken. Slowly i realized i couldn't help a great deal of people, which made me wonder if i'd ever helped anyone at all. So i drew away from people. Some still came to me when they had problems, some still trusted me. Others just harassed me about the past. The solitude has many advantages over companionship, but virtue lies between them. To me... sharing myself with everyone.... left me open to be destroyed. Empathy isn't exactly overrated, but... it was very, very dangerous. And that left it lacking. I needed to find someone i could trust, a single person. Someone to trust completely, someone to give all of myself to. There's security in that. If you trust the person, then it's a much safer bet than having a great deal of people to trust. It's like a reverse vanyl... instead of many small fires to draw from, you only draw from one bright fire.

And so people slowly fade away... they get upset with me for being remote, but they never tried to reach me, so i don't feel bad about it. People forget to message me, forget i'm around. i've become used to it, really. and then i return home for the holidays, and those few people who do decide to spend time with me just spend it upset with me or yelling at me. so i leave to return to college with a feeling that even if i did have friends here, they'd be just like my friends back home, and i don't want that.

And yet, there's an ideal... and it's more than an ideal. Friendship doesn't have to end. That's just BS people say to make themselves feel better. People grow apart, BUT THEY DON'T HAVE TO. If others can have friendship that last, so can i. The same goes for relationships... not dating allowed me not to waste my time on a relationship i didn't want, just to "pass the time." It made me want to be sure that my next relationship would matter... that it would be one that would last. I know what i want in life.... and romance doesn't have to fade, friendships don't have to be broken... things don't have to go wrong. And if they do, they can be fixed. It's really quite that simple. And even if this isn't possible... it's worth fighting for. Idealism vs realism is trendy... but i think that even if it doesn't seem possible for an ideal to be acheived, it's still worth fighting for. Even if i can't have what i want... i want someone to stand beside me and fight for those things. I dont' want to put myself next to someone who's apathy will overcome them. I want someone who will fight with me for all those ideals i hold close and don't want to let go of.

So i look at my silly little AIM list... and i see the people that wouldn't stand beside me... that probably never even realized the offer existed. Or i look at my e-mail and see people upset over things from the past. It saddens me... and yet, they'll forget about me in a few days. Go back to their life, and decide it's better if they don't think about me. That's the way life goes. I think i've found someone, though, to stand beside me... someone i'm willing to trust and stand next to proudly. So i'll do so. And if those other people have problems... maybe they'll come to me, and i'll help them.... and maybe they wont'. Only time will tell.

text: I like to eat hams.

Not just any hams.

Big ones.

The kind you see in movies and on telivision.

Some people might confuse these hams with ham in either slice form or prehaps other forms of pork.

I mean ham god damn it!

I once was asked by an old man at the checkout counter why I would need 8 hams. I did not reply.

These are the ham haters. They do not understand the ham. They do not love the ham.

Only I love the ham. Only me.

Some times I sit in the shadows cooking hours upon hours--fresh hams. I let their smells nourish me.

Who cares about eating ham when you can smell its delicous perfume.

Some times my hams and I get dressed in fancy coats and pants and dress clothes and we take in a night on the town.

Since hams can't walk I usually push them along in scooters teathered together so that I only have to pull one.

Sometimes people make comments. Alot of the time people attempt to steal my hams or nock them off.

At first I responded with voilence but I soon learned that a society of ham haters could not understand a ham lover like my self.

Now I simply write their names down.

They will pay when the hamilution comes to pass....

text: Through it away?


i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
i want you to make me
i want you to take me
i want you to break me
and i want you to through me away
------------------------------------------------------

i want to start a fight with some "stranger" and that person destroy me physicaly.
wouldnt that be intresting, to experiance that will, i imagine it would be very impowering to allow that to happen to yourself. to be demolished by your nextdoor nieghbor or maybe someone that has some social importance like a governor and celebrity for that matter.
things i'll never do.
weakling.

maybe start a fight with a complete stranger and try and to win but "loose" what would that feel like?
or maybe start somthing in a situation you know you can't come out of on "top" like a gang...this risk of death is appealing but if you die then it was a waste no?

would you say something clever or impowering as it was just about to happen or begin :
"this is the first day of my last day" "i hate everyone" or perhaps something forced like "god told me to skin you alive"
the reaction alone is probably worth it.
i'll never know.
what a whining little bitch i am no?
weakling.

text: alright. i'll stop the minutes by the messed-up clock on my computer pool computer. the one i am sitting at since i have no internet access at home. kind of dumb since a modem costs maybe 50 bucks or euro (i live in euroland) nowadays.
well, methinks the first minute is over. do you mean "just writing" and leaving in all the typos? i can't do that. it goes against all of my principles. don't force me to! noooooooo!

alright, the normal jens is back. funny thing, another minute gone by though i haven't really written anything. now. weather alright here, radio saying "overcast with a high chance of rain", but nature blessing us with some sun. it would actually be a smart move to go out and jog around the lake or just lie down on its beach, but i'm not that clever, i'll probably just go home soon and try to start working. most likely, i'll have a nice afternoon meal, then read comics by jacques tardi and decide to call it a day.

that's five minutes!

text: i give up....on dating that is....i give up....it takes too much time away from my studies...and it's way too confusing in the first place....completely not logical....so why do i put myself through the torture of it in the first place?...and that's when i can find a guy who wants to date me....which is rare to begin with....so i give up....i'm going to have my parents arrange my marriage....and i'm serious about this....i completely give up....i've said it before .... but this time i'm serious and i'm giving up....dating is just too confusing....like today my ex bf.... who broke up w/ me 3 weeks ago today....called me his gf again....and i'm like "what?"....completely unaware of what happened....and when....so i'm going to just give up on dating...and from now on i'm going to concentrate on my studies and my two dears....they're so cute...and even though they're rats i'm still the proud mother....lol....but when it comes to dating....i give up....

text: I'm a whore.
i wan't to be noticed by people i've never met before.
why?

oh right yeah i did this part.





I like to look out my window sometimes, and thinl about what it would be like to be out there, then i stop and forget about it some more. I often think to myself "things can be different for me" and then i daydream for a time, i used to daydream for hours about lives i could lead or choices i could have made. Now i stop myself from daydreaming for to long, it's dangerous to day dream too long, because if you do it long enough you forget about reality and the truth. you became nothing.
I've often thought to myself "i'm gonna change the world, i can do that, i can make people aware of the truth" but then i stop and realize that i can't - i can but i can't because i'm a whore, i'm tainted and i've been perverted and i can't tell them they're slaves because i'm willingly a slave. Can't i just pretend that they know the truth and that they're doing everything imaginable to stop it?
No. it's dangerous to have those thoughts. you become nothing.
this is one of those moments were i try to get out of something thats my fault....we'll its everyones fault isn't it?
she decays a little more every second i spend here sitting in this room typing fodder on some website, i love her very much, yet i'm a liar...if i truly did love her i would be......i would take action.........i...but i don't, and she decays. i don't deserve her, she is something more then i can ever claim to be....maybe she's lost intrest in me, maybe she's found someone deserving of her love and she happy....i want her to be happy but......with me. COWARD.

so weak.
so pathetic.
break out the fucking hanky's.
sad.

i'm a whore. i gave my mind to everything that demanded it. it's not my mind anymore. it's somthing diferent. disgusting.

text: You mentioned it--it didn't seem like such a bad idea right now. It's odd for you to say, though. It's like you have to contradict everything I say. You're so used to being able to show how something of yours is more . . . in some way, that when I finally agree to the truth of it in some respect, you seem to lose it. How odd. Does this all confuse you? Perhaps that's what it's there for.

What am I saying?

Goodbye.

text: · Her nostrils flared slightly. This was always teh first sign she gave of waking each morning. I know. I had watched this face for so long it seemed to have been forever. It hadn't been, of course, but there comes a time when you have been with someone so long there ceases to be a before. It just is, and always has been.

Next her head will turn slightly, away from the morning light creeping around the edges of the heavy drapes. She always hated being woken before she was ready. Hated being woken by the sun, hated alarm clocks. She believe her body would tell her when she'd had enough sleep, and then she'd wake naturally. it was what the body wanted, the healthiest way to live, she would say – early to be, early to rise, just not too early. Fortunately she was lucky enough, or should I say talented enough, to have the kind of career that allowed her this freedom. A successful novelist works her own hours. It was one of the reasons I loved her so much, her creativity, her talent. She provided the creative balance to my business life. Had done since the first time we met.

I'm going to miss mornings like this. I still find it hard to accept that this will be the last day I see her for the rest of my life. Funny how life works out sometimes.

text: okay i know this isn't going to be five minutes....but how is that parents know exactly what to say to make you feel worse than you already do? and why do they do that? so yeah....just the two questions running around my mind right now....

text: okay so here i sit at work yet again...this time i have the 6 pm to 2 am shift...per my request...hey 16 hours in two days is worth it in my opinion...at least it frees up my afternoons....or at least most of them....and the only thing i have to deal w/ is staying up till two in the morning....most ppl know the drill anyway...they come in sign their name....and walk on in the building....so i just get to sit here and be bored unless i come prepared w/ plenty of stuff to do...like tonight for instance i brought some index cards so i could make kanji flash cards and then i ran out of cards on page 8 of 19....was not happy w/ that...but oh well...i have my music to listen to and some books to read and some things to translate and stories to work on for the paper....and right now my brother and his friend are messing w/ me as i listen to the music and type this....but that's okay....today is a good day...well somewhat of a good day....only problem is this isn't my key board so i'm learning very well where the back space button is....lol....and this is a very boring job...i just had to get online....i'm so glad my brother's friend has a lap top he's letting me borrow for the moment....and wow it's only been 2 minutes.....lol....yellow....i like this song...and i miss my little sister....being in college is great.... except my foot is asleep right now...as soon as i finish typing this i'm going to go walk around a little....i should maybe go see my boyfriend...he lives right down the hall....working here isn't so bad....just boring....my brother is making faces....he's very bored and very sleep deprived at the moment...lol...so he's acting a little crazy....but i'm just glad he's not hyper....he annoys ppl when he's hyper...and he and his friend are calling each other names right now....and now my five minutes are up....so i'm off now to get back to work...not like there's a lot to do here anyways...i'm just ornamentation for the lobby....lol....but five minutes are up so here i go back to work....*whistles while you work*.............

text: i hate life....like i really hate it....it's all happy one minute and then bam you slam into a brick wall....i get so sick of these brick walls....like the one that just decided to present itself in my path of happiness....and the happiness hadn't lasted long....only just over a week....and yet...here i am wondering why....like right now he's in her room....and i just want to cry....and yet that is the one activity denied me....i just don't get it....only 12 hours ago he was talking about spring break....and now he's in her room....why?...i just don't get it....and i guess i never will....i'll just sit down and talk to him and just pick up my stuff from his room tomorrow....i can't say i wasn't warned....even my brother warned me....and yet....i wanted to believe the good....this is why pessimism is good....it helps when the ground drops out from underneath you....and now i'm going to listen to this one song and then i'm out the door yet again...this time headed who knows where...i might just walk all night just to not think....or maybe it's just so i can think....who knows? i know i don't anymore....i'm just going to visit my insanity again....it's a nice place to be....

text: I feel like a lost soul. Clicking and waiting.....Clicking and waiting....Don't really know what for. anything that will fullfil me. That would be anything to take the big black cloud that's hanging over my head away. Maybe some wind to blow it away.
There's been a lot of that recently. People dying, then people asking why all this bad stuff is happening to the world. I said that maybe god's angry, and then everyone else got angry at me. I don't know a lot about religion. It doesn't really capture my interest.
I don't really have interest for a lot at the moment. People tend to make me bored and my dogs not really very talkative. She sometimes sings to the radio but I'm yet to get an answer as to whether she likes my other dog. I'm interested in painting with bright colours but I can't really make a job out of that.
Everyone's trying to make me think about my career. My mum keeps telling me that I can't leave school because I'll turn into a waster and girls can't get jobs as electricians or plumbers because it's too manual and I'm not strong enough.
That's probably true though. I think it's been proven actually, but I don't want to do manual labour anyway. I want to work in a paintball arcade so I can fire bright colour paints at people all day.
I might go and live in a city and do that actually. My mum would be disappointed though. I don't want to upset her, but I can't handle any more school. It really will kill me. It stresses me out. If it didn't stress me out I'd never get anything done, but when it does stress me out I don't even want to be on this planet anymore.

text: they asked for five minutes and they got fifty they asked fo rmy name and i gave them my middleo one. doesn't matter really does it? i need an escape. and this is th eportal to my awakening adn all it is words. i heard tha twords are very powerful-that they can affect you for life. be careful with your words and your thoughts for they may become reality. but these aren't my words so what are they worth to you? five minutes of my life is here before you and it had to be today . a hanesous day to pick to stumble uponthis simple request and is my time so precious that i can't write for 5 minutes- guess not. then why is it so hard to write in my own journal? why si it so hard to speak my own truth. much easier to spout th ewords one hears on the radio, reads in the paper...overhears on a bus. when is this 5 minutes thing going to be over anyway. i am gettign tired of hearing my thought jumble what happens now. whay so many questions and so few answers? why is my city, my country becoming a carbon copy of the US? everything it prided itself on not being is coming true before my very eyes...what happened to privacy--ack - life takes over and i must work- so i take a call and help some lost soul get on a chat line so he can get laid or find his soul mate-that's my life somewhere between cupid and hell

text: okay...i don't really know why i'm writing...but i am....i'm sitting on duty at work right now trying to stay awake...i have the 9 pm to 2 am shift and it's not so bad...but i get bored and that allows thoughts to creep upon me again...i have people to talk to at the moment, but i'm not in a talking mood...i was in a writing mood so here i am...typing again...and i'm trying not to think about thursday...thursday is only going to bring bad news....which is why i'm not looking forward to it...yeah now we have three frat guys and one hyper guy sitting in the lobby with me...at least i only have minutes...left....yeah so it's a frat conversation surrounding me now...back to thursday though...still not looking forward to it...but at least i might be able to finally take control of whatever it is...hopefully anyways...i just wish i could do something...i don't know what i just want to get out and do something...but it's really cold and it was sleeting earlier....so maybe it's snowing now....and i was crazy enough to come to work wearing sandals...so yeah not looking forward to that either...and i guess that's about it...or maybe not i don't know...i just don't want to go to sleep...and yet i have to...or i fall asleep in church tomorrow...so yeah i'm leaving now...laters!

text: one day i was with a badger and i had a green box the green box ate the badger and my arm..it told me i was a secret agent of innermax i said "what you say?" and it said that i was dead and then it killed me then i saw a mamophant named willard and it was like "whoa" i saw this game kingdoms in the underworld and some people hit me with pitch forks because they didnt want me eating cds and so i started watching this movie called just one of the guys starring this chick that stars as a guy and believes that she's unfairly represented at her school so she dresses up as a guy and goes to the non-preppy rival school and she attemtps to do things so then i went to her school and decided to kill her and the whole senior class because they decided they like the 80's and don't deserve life. also michael crier is cool i think he is the greatest actor ever and should be comemorated by some monument.

text: Everybody thinks their special. Everybody thinks their thoughts are more profound than everyone else's. "I want to be someone..." "I have thoughts..deep thoughts.." "This is how I see it, no-one else will understand". That's what makes me laugh. It sounds condecending and bitter but I don't think anyone is that special. So many people talk about their deep thoughts, but they aren't amazing, they're just pretentious. The people and the thoughts.
I hate sounding nasty but it gets me down a bit. Not that other people think they're more than they are, but that there's nothing to get me away from all these people making themselves fake and looking down on each other.
People will read this and say "He/She sounds so full of his/herself. What right do they have to put me down, I haven't done anything...". That's the point though. I don't have a right to put down others, or myself. But that's what people do when they think that their thoughts are different from everyone else's. That person is saying no-one else has the capibility to understand the deep meaning of it all. When actually everyone, or almost everyone, can.
Never mind. Just watch what you write or you might fall into the trap.

text: life has a way of making each and every day special...today for instance was a great day....well up until about 30 min ago....but that's a story for another time...today though...i wake up early to study for a test for my killer sci class today...well while i'm at the computer listening to my playlist again...all the best music...shakira, harry nilsson, sarah brightman, etc...i check my e-mail...and i see this e-mail from someone i haven't talked to in a very very long time...so i read it expecting something bad...things a while ago weren't so great btwn us...and he calls me by the nickname he gave me six years ago...so i know things are going to be better...and then i get to class and the test starts and it's a bit difficult, but nothing i can't handle thanks to my early morning cram session...and then i find out that my b/s level is up this week...good thing...and in about 3 hours is a dance that i'm going to...so perhaps i'd better go and get ready...

text: i hate not being able to crawl into bed and sleep...it's now 5:19 am...and of course i'm wide awake...and it really does no good to get into bed now...the alarm goes off in less than an hour...so here i sit in front of the computer with christmas lights on behind me...and i'm listening to my playlist...i'm on a spanish kick right now...and that really makes no sense seeing as how i haven't had spanish in about a year...i could understand if i was on a japanese kick...all day long i'm surrounded by japanese, but that's okay 'cause i love it...i have like 9 days...(not including today) till i get to see my family again!...mi familia!. i miss them...and the only reason i'm getting so antsy to get out of here to see my family is the simple fact that i know i can go home...if i wasn't going home for christmas i wouldn't be like this...but for some reason knowing that i'm going to go home makes me miss home even more...weird, but true...and so here i sit...in front of the computer...being bored...i wish it would snow...that would be so much fun...i just hope i don't fall asleep in class tomorrow...killer science...i wish it was japanese or spanish...i'm really not looking forward to tomorrow...well at least this insomnia allowed me to catch up on my sewing...that's a good thing...maybe i should go read...but then i wouldn't get to sleep oh well...i'm out now...i'm going to try to get some kind of sleep...

text: I can't take this anymore. I can't believe the way my life is going. Nothing is going right, not a damned thing. I am a slave to my father. How did I allow myself to enter into this situation? what have I done wrong? Where did I begin screwing up so bad that I would actually need my father for the first time in my life? As soon as I knew that I would need him I knew I was going to regret this. I must break free! With the current unemployment it is extremely difficult to find a job around here, even one shovelling the proverbial shit. But without a job I cannot break out. This is what I know - I must do whatever it takes, whatever job I can get, to get myself the hell out of here. I must get my car fixed up.

I gotta get out of missouri. If I don't I'm going to kill myself. And him.

text: well i've sat in this little office bye myself pretty much for almost a year now, hardly any body to talk to and not much to see, my escape a chatroom or a book, do i think madness could set in, fortunatly not, i have a loving wife and three kids to go home to, so some sanity does return to me amongst the calamity of home life, but still towards the end of the day i certainly feel like i'm getting cabin fever, my mind slipping, eyes slowly bugging out, talking to myself, hearing things that didn't come over the radio, stuff that makes me wonder that if i was alone could i take it?? i mean before i got married i was a loner, didn't go out, didn't talk to really any bdy , just went to work and went hme, my only hobbiy was as a scifi geek and a budding otoku/hentai freak,...scary if you think of the things trhat could have been, that just kept you miserable trapped in your own cage never to escape without anybody else to show you how, i mean after awhile misery bcomes all you know and you start to like it, even to the point of trying to drag those you know down there...

text: why do things change? i mean i understand why they have to change, but why do friends change? why do people suddenly decide they don't like you anymore...roommates are strange like that...i understand that life is change you can see that everyday...seasons change...night changes to day and back again...but that still doesn't mean i have to like the change...i do understand though...and that understanding doesn't help...the only thing to do in the midst of change is to believe...believe in life because once you believe in life you believe in change...because life is change just like life is for growing...and one can't grow without change, this i understand, but what i don't understand is how do you decide to not be friends with someone over something small such as a computer or a radio or a party? friendship is also a part of life...that makes it succeptible to change, and i understand this...but i understood friendship to be something to grow and become stronger over time, friends were supposed to be able to rely on each other and talk out their differences...and grow through their problems...so how is that a friend can just ask to not be friends anymore? this is where my understanding fails me...and yet i do understand this too becuase this is a change...not one that i understand, friendship is a force that can help one through many changes it can be a hug on a birthday, a blanket on a rainy night, or even a smile on a cloudy day...i guess this mystery is one that is beyond my current understanding...and at the same time not...i accept this change...i'd rather not...but change is life and i accept that, therefore i can accpet this change....whether or not i understand it...

text: i'm sitting in an I.T class in school right now. I'm next to a wonderful, wonderful person called squidge, and another wonderful wonderful person called Karen. I've been drinking coca cola, so i'm buzzing off the sugar and caffine.
i have a teacher at the other end of the classroom dictating to us telling us what we need to know to live in the modern world. and i am thinking. i don't want to like in the modern world. i want to be the lo-fi hi-fi slow moving person, who just sit's around drinking cola. i don't care about money, or life, or anything, apart from my addictions and my friends. i see things differently to most people. it's interesting. let me tell you what i see now.

i see computers with neon glares that rot the eyeballs and exist in the ultamate world of the material, with the steel artifical cases that hold so much. i can see people with their designer jackets and their makeup and doing their hair. i can see the small stretch light strips. with their only purpose to be to remind people that there is actually a real world out there. if those lights didn't exist, we'd simply be tied down to the mechanical, material world and not see the real world.
the real world isn't as hard and cold as the world which we think we live in. we run from the rain to stop getting wet, but the rain is as pure as the tree's in an unkept forest. we're gently moving from our world, the material into the real. that's wrong. i'm cold now, but warm.

i love my friends who are sitting beside me, i want them to be happy. but i can't help but feel as if whatever link we had has somehow hidden itself. i am surrounded by the enemy, and there is nothing to hide behind. sometimes i wish i could re-join their world like i did this morning. but then i am thankful that i can see everything so clearly.

now i'm going to go. my thoughts will stay here, and i'm glad. maybe you can write to me, and tell me what you see. i'd be interested to know if i truly am alone in the world of the real.

text: Actually, I haven't checked my skizzers email for a very long time. I hope nobody's been sending me important stuff to that address.

I have bad luck. Not really bad luck, I guess. This keyboard is getting on my nerves, it seems just off. But that's okay. It's not my keyboard: I don't have to deal with it apart from occasionally. But . . . luck. I have a funny sort of predictable luck. I almost always realize that things are going to happen before they actually do. Maybe, though, I'm just reading too much into things. But it never turns out that way, which either makes it better or worse--I can't tell yet.

At some point I'll get things to work out.

I'm not sure. It'll work, ne? Heh. I'm tired, and I don't want to do my current programming assignment. Why on earth do we have to do a postfix calculator? Well, I guess that they're already doing quite a bit of it for us. But . . . we have to do so much evilnasty sorts of things. Many many files. Which is one of the reasons why Java is unfriendly and not really good at all. Well, it's not too bad, but it is most definitely not my favorite programming language.

text: I am restless. Have you ever had those days where you don't know what to do, but you feel like you -should- be doing -something-? The next month of my life is pure preparation. Preparation for my future. Preparation for the obstacles I'll need to be able to face, and succeed against. Preparing for war. While the rest of the nation rants about 'we' and 'us' and 'we will fight'. People don't realize how LITTLE say the American people have in this. And how little they actually can do to help. They won't be fighting, the military will. I won't even say that I will, because even if I'm shipped to Afganistan, they'll probably keep me back at the base. Watok. Sorry, just an irritation of mine. My issue is this. I have a month of waiting. Of preparing. And then everything happens all at once. I'm ... restless. Every emotion I should (and shouldn't) feel is amplified a hundred times. You can only run so far before your legs give out. There's only so much a man can do. So I'm left here, exausted, tired, axious, and restless. Life will go on. It's just a matter of time. But it's time that I'm afraid of.

text: Do you have those people on your buddy list that just dont seem to like to say bye at all? They just go and Sign off, or put on their away message and leave and dont tell you anything. Those people bug me. I just did something like that to someone so I guess I just bug me, which isnt all together a lie.

there are so many feelings that can go through your mind at any giving point of time. Not only feelings but thoughts and ideas. Here I sit witht he feeling of loneliness, the feeling of wanting, the feeling of apathy, the feeling of needing to talk, the feeling of being bored, the feeling of being different from everyone else, the feeling of disappointment. So many things Im feeling all at once that dont entirely make sense. I know why I feel most of them, but I dont know why they feel the way they do. These feelings are brought up so easily. All it takes is the word of another, a movie, a thought, a small event, or an event that happened LONG ago to make these feelings happen and surface and stay there bogging me down. There arent many that stay there boosting me up, And people think Im such an optomist *laughs* Theres actually only one boosting me up. there used to be more, there used to be a feeling of being needed, and now even though Im constantly bugged by people asking for assistance, i dont feel needed. Feelings are such horrible decietful things. Am I weird to think that if I didnt have any feelings it'd be much better?

text: hmmm,...kevin, i really don't know what to put in here? i emailed you today, to say hi, i hope i got the email address right. what to write? i guess i could write that i am very sad right now. nothing seems to be going right, as i speak i am skipping history lecture for the plain and simple fact that i do not see the point in going. i do not wish to be around people. i read your journal the other day, and agreed with it entirely...it was weird, it was almost like jessica had told you everything that i had been crying about the day before and you wrote it down. you probably don't know that though. do you even read these random five to ten minute long rants people put in here? i know if you do it's is probably interesting to you...someone online told me that we are going to end up going to war...war is bad, i don't think that would be good thing to do but people nowadays are so trigger happy...sometimes i feel like the end is here, right under our noses and no one wants to see it because we as a whole are all in denial...denial is bad but it is so comforting, it is a way to keep your pain so close to you that you never forget it and yet you never admit that it's there...scary huh? oh wow, i've been writing for only two min and i have already filled this little box...what else is there to say? i have spanish homework to do, i am tired and i can't sleep. i think i'll just talk to you online, i don't want to take up too much space...i have a journal i can do that in...and very few people read that so i can just rant...

text: I'm so glad I'm going home tomorrow. For myself -- because I haven't been home in over a month, and it's beginning to lose its reality. Like, "home" has images attached to it, but it doesn't feel quite real. But that's just how I am, you know? I don't/can't grasp things that are real but which I am disconnected from. I think reading my sister's rant below brought me a little closer to home than I would have been otherwise -- these people aren't strangers, they're my family, and they're people, and I know them. I . . . I'm weird. Anyway. Me coming home is also good for /them/ -- both Mom and Kathy. Email isn't the same as phone conversation, and I'm looking forward to some quality time with my big sis. It's good for both of us, ne? Oh, and I miss Michael and Mika, too, of course. I miss /home/. I miss it. I miss highschool very much, too, even for the things I hated about it. It's odd -- when we look back on things, we often focus on the good things, or simply idealize it. That's not a good thing to do. I suppose you could say a lot of Americans have been doing that since we got hit. Saying, "but we were so perfect! we never did anything wrong!" where just a week before half of them had been complaining about the very nation they now profess to love. But in a way, that makes sense, too -- it's like a family. You may not get along, and you may hate certain things, but if someone outside the family starts picking on a family member, you all kinda unite. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me. Feather out.

text: Lovers leave you. Well, all except one's possible destined other. But leading up to that, they all leave you. Friends, too, may feel a need to leave you, or just become so distant that they might as well be strangers. Both of those people make me feel comfortable. And yet, both of them leave. I feel so secure lying next to my signifigant other.... and then, one day, it's over. She's grown tired of me. She has someone new. She never cared for me. She doesn't want to care for me anymore. They all have their reasons. That one day... they leave. And i'm alone. So i seek comfort in my friends. We take over the world, we paint the town red... we hang out in clubs, we see movies together, we crash at each others apartments. Life is good. Then someone leaves, or stops caring, or dates your ex, or something that just drives a wedge for awhile. Or maybe YOU leave, and you know things will never be the same. You leave so that even if you make up, you can't go back. Life has moved on. How horrible. There's one more thing that makes you feel good, though. One more thing that makes the world okay. Do you know what that is? Drugs. Yes, drugs. My drugs aren't quite the drugs most people use. Caffiene. It brings the world into focus just a little better, makes it have focus... forces focus upon it. Then, everything gets quicker. I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but with the extra boost of quicker thinking, i can work things out just that much better. Then i no longer feel hungry. I don't need food, and because i dislike food so much, that makes me feel even better. The world is okay. The world is hyper, happy, loving. Or, if it's not, i stays within the acceptable limits for depression and sadness. Caffiene. I used to hang out with Caffiene and Luke on weekends. life was good. Luke is long gone, cafiene, however, is still here. A final stronghold against lonliness.

Love and caffiene don't go hand in hand. I don't love caffiene. I use caffiene. I use it to be a better person. And, in turn, it tears me down. It breaks me apart. Breaks apart my mind, as i become sleep deprived. Makes me dependant on it as i become sluggish without it coursing through my veins. Instead of me using caffiene, caffiene is using me. And i'm breaking apart. One day, i just don't feel well. Another, i cough up blood. I'm d ying to caffiene, because it has become my world. I have no friends, i have no family, i have no lover... i am a druggie. A druggie to caffiene. But it won't leave me. Please don't leave me. You're all i have left. Don't leave me here, alone...

text: why retaliate? can we not show that we're better than children? can we talk about this to see why such a drastic action was needed to wake us up? a knee-jerk reaction is not what we need. all that will do is serve to put us in a war...and war is what we cannot afford...we need to keep our cool...i for one am opposed to violence...and all you that are calling for retaliation...think of the lives you condemn...are you willing to go out there yourself and fight in combat? are you willing to send your brothers and sisters to the front line? are you willing to send your best friend, or fiance to the front line? if your not then stop calling for retaliation....unless you're willing to do this yourself...because if you're not willing to this yourself, then you're no better than these terrorists....they had no value for human life, they killed because these people worked in a place they didn't like....if you call for a retaliation you sentance hundreds to certain death, because bullets have no names written on them, a bullet wil hit anyone and kill them. true not all gsw's are fatal, but in war people die. are you willing to see more death come of this? i'm not....when does it all end? if we retaliate violently then when does it stop? when 5,000 die? when 300,000 die? when 6 million die? should we start another holocaust? can we? we saw what happened last time xenophobia reigned supreme. hate is deadly....keep your head....don't call for something you're not willing to do yourself....and please keep in mind, that if we hit back we're no better than they are...

text: Venting can be a VERY GOOD THING sometimes.

I cannot WAIT to be the fuck outta here. My house. 'My' - ha! My corner. I take up too much space, obviously an inconvenience to everyone. 'You're never home', 'You don't ever talk to me, tell me what's up with you', blahsdy-fucking-blah. "Man, this upcoming month and a half is going to be crazy for me!" 'Why?' "Well, I have this trip planned with a friend of mine - we're flying to California at the end of the month to pick up his new car. I'm..." 'You're doing what? Your boss is going to fire you! I can't believe you're doing that. Tsk tsk Negativitynegativityaboutsomethingireallywannado,raisedeyebrows,exitconversation/room.' WONDER WHY SHE DOESN'T TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON IN HER LIFE? DURDEEDUR. Maybe it's because all I get is bullshit negativity from you. Maybe it's because you never really listen anyway. "I've told you about this a bunch of times!" 'Oh, well I guess I'm getting senile or something, right? You never said a word!' Enter me, from work. "Wow, it's good to be home, how was your day?" 'Shhh...I'm trying to watch t.v.' Enter mom, home from work: "Hi, mom, how was your day?" bigsmile. 'Hey' barelyaglance. Enter cat next second: 'Hey, boy, how's it going, huh? I wuv you! How was your day? Awww, yes, cutekittynonsensenoise.' I am sick of being BELOW the cat on the affection level here. I am sick of negativity. I am sick of the constant strain on what should be easy conversation! I am sick of having to explain every thing I say in hopes that she'll understand, instead of just assuming she already knows what's wrong! I am sick of neuroticism! I am sick of a million questions when I'm quiet! 'Is it because 2 of your friends are dating?' 'Did you have a fight with so-and-so?' "No! It's because YOU SUCK!" It's not out of concern, it's out of nosiness - she's just trying to satisfy her curiosity. And that is fucking aggrivating! I've got a million things going on in upcoming months, and I guess I'm not gonna try to tell her a damn thing - she'll find out when it happens, because I'm done trying to let her know what's up, only to have her pooh-pooh at it disdainfully and then walk away. FUCK THAT.
And then, when I vent like this, I feel like I'm being an ungrateful little shit, a whiny little bitch. My mom can be really cool, and she's done a lot for me, and been through a lot, and doesn't she deserve more respect? But what about me? Don't I deserve at least a little myself? Where's the line between right and wrong here?
On a side note, I'm still very much looking forward to the busy-ness of the next few months. Road trip from Cali, 2 Ani DiFranco concerts, one TOOL concert (that's right, they're finally coming to town at a time that I can afford to see them!), 5 birthdays, a Bucs game, visits from my sister, and HOPEFULLY MOVING THE FERK OUT OF THIS PLACE! (Ferk was a typo, but I like the sound of it) It's going to be like removing a dam that's holding back millions of gallons of water - such relief! My own space......*sigh*

text: five minutes, shouldn't be hard... why don't people have concern for other people's property? i take that back... a good deal many people do... it's just... wtf is wrong with some people? she fricking hides in her room all week, doesn't contribute finacially to the "l.r. project" at all, doesn't socialize, doesn't fricking do anything except sit in her dang dorm room all fricking day long... being totally withdrawn from the world... and then she goes and screws up my fricking microwave! my $100, 1 week old microwave! WTF? and she goes and grypes about how people should clean up stuff if they're going to use it, and then ends up being the biggest fricking slob of us all!!!! what a stupid punk! yeah, i know i'm not being nice right now... i don't really feel like it... not when i've been cleaning at my job all day and washing dishes at my job for about an hour and a half strait just to come home and clean up somebody else's mess and wash somebody else's dishes.... because nobody will get up off of their lazy butts that have been doing NOTHING all fucking day long and do one share of chores.... i understand that it's not like it's ness. one person's mess everytime... but if you have the time, GET UP OFF OF YOUR FAT LAZY ASS AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!!! DON'T ALWAYS RELY ON SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT FOR YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!

thank you.

text: Wow. Been a while since I've been in here. I guess I got a little distracted from life. Oh, let me apologize to anyone who reads this - I don't have a website to rant and ramble on, and sometimes writing in my journal just doesn't appeal. Typing is much quicker - I can keep up with my thoughts better. So, that said....there are so many things I want to get out. So many things all bottled up, jumbled up in my head. I've been avoiding my life for the most part lately - just hanging out with one person, no keeping in contact with my other friends. I feel disconnected from my best friend - like he doesn't want to be around any more. That depresses me. My little sister is off in college now, moving forward with her life - that makes me insanely proud of her, but also makes me beat myself up for being such a stagnant failure. What the fuck am I doing? Working a shit job that requires no intelligence whatsoever, which means I'm wasting what little brainpower I DO have by just letting it sit, unused. I still live at home. I'm not in college, nor do I have any particular desire to GO to college. I've smoked my motivation into oblivion. I make all these great plans on how to better my lifestyle, and then I don't follow through, and then I get really pissed off at myself because I never follow through, and it's just this unending cycle that aggravates me. I wonder why I'm like that. How can one daughter be so motivated, and the other such a slacker? I don't know. I'm angry at my mother for about a million reasons, which makes me feel horrible because, well, she's my mom, but then I resent the fact that I feel horrible about being angry at her, and then I feel guilty for resenting, and then....another vicious cycle. I'M FUCKING FED UP WITH LIFE IN GENERAL!!! I FEEL LIKE SCREAMING AND BREAKING THINGS AND HITTING THE ROAD!!!!

text: i'm sitting here with nothing to do and i was looking around skizzers at peoples sites and then i came here. i like this idea. so i thought i'd write something. i don't have much to say and i'm not really that much of a ranter, but still i'm writing here. for those of you who don't know me (which is probably everyone here) hi, i'm fish. i get sad lots, and i love drawing things. so usually i end up drawing sad things. no-one knows just how much i miss my dad. i miss him so much, that every day lots i think of him. you see, he moved away. he's not coming back, and he's abandoned me here, with my bad habits and my endless passion for drawing. i've had a day off now for a month and a bit, i've seen him for about 30 seconds evey tuesday, and stayed over at his house once. if i don't ring him, he dosn't bother. it's all about her. her is the person he moved in with. i want to hate her but i can't, because she's really nice. so i just keep on drawing. and i guess that's what i always will do. not that that's a bad thing, i just wish the things i drew looked more happy. like the outside of me. not the inside.

text: haven't done this in a while. i adore my roomates. i'm so glad i'm living with them... i wish adam wasn't gay... i wish nick would call me... i wish i would get my package... I wish our living room didn't look like a prison... i wish nick would visit me... i wish that if he's not going to do anything that he'd let me go... i wish i wasn't so pathetic that i would need that freedom... i wish i knew if what i classify as pathetic was really pathetic or if it's what i should be doing anyways... i wish i knew a lot of things... i wish i could have signed up for photography... i wish the rice sushi would be done... i wish i knew how to make my own sushi... i wish that algebra word problems weren't so difficult... i wish people wouldn't give their beliefs such a bad image just because they misrepresent them... i wish i could honestly say that i had any place to judge that at all... i wish a lot of things.... i wish that i could see my mom... i wish that i could be reassured that my grandmother is doing okay with me not living in the same city... i wish i could tell if she's fibbing to make me feel better... i wish i didn't have so much more homework to do this weekend. and now my five minutes are up

text: I went to look at an apartment today in beverly which is next to Salem. I really want to get it, I filled out an application, but there are 12 other that want it too. I feel like i can never win in these situations. I am never the chosen one. Sometimes I even feel invisible to people. I will start to say something and it's like they don't even see me. This is wierd. I am so bored and lonely too. My friends IM me just to tell me how much fun they had tonight. Why didn't they invite me? Am I not fun anymore? I am annoyed. I need to go on my own vacation back to the woods where I cna just hang out, eat good food, and relax without all this stupid bullshit to deal with. A model sent me some pictures today. She is so beautiful, but so what? She is probably a bitch. I hate telling beautiful people that they are beautiful. it only fuels thier superiority complex even more. I wish I could just tell them to go fuck themselves and that they disgust me. "You disgust me because you are an ugly person, you are dirty and stupid". But I of course tell them how beautiful they are because I want them for myself in some way. I just want to be with beautiful women even if they are selfish pigs and I hate them deep down.

text: Have you ever known of the endless possibilities of people out there for you to meet, to make friends with, to become more than friends with, and you even know some who are just waiting for you? All it would take is one phone call, one date, one anything, and they'd be yours. Say jump, and they'd ask how high. But yet, even though you know of their devotion, there's still that one person you can't shake from your mind. An acquaintance, a friend, a former love, he or she has a permanent place burned into your mind and heart. No matter how many phone calls you get, no matter how many offers, dates, gifts, compliments you receive, if that one person doesn't take notice of you, or doesn't care for you the way you do him or her, none of those other prospects matter. Have you ever known an endless love that is so deep that it goes right to your core, and just radiates throughout you? It's the love that makes you get out of bed in the morning, that the sun shines for, the kind of love that even the greatest authors and actors could never portray. The sort of love that soulmates are supposed to have, the ones who are "destined for each other," and meet by "fate" or some predetermined factor. As far as I know, the kind of love that exists only in dreams.

text: Hang the blessed dj!

text: >begin transmissionend transmission

text: 5 minutes... write... Hey, someone really wants me to write something total nonsense for five minutes! Whohoo!!! This is a paradise!! I love this! Allthough I don't know why... besides, why on Earth do I come here to write. Right now I should be writing an email to my friend... well, this is more fun.

I have to say something about that my website. It is actually a fantasyartgallery in Elfwood. And Elfwood is down right now. So, you can't visit that site right now. But if you wait for some time it shall be open again, and then you can go there to see some of my great art! (er... great... well, you know...*grin*)

Only five minutes... Why not more?
You know, right now I'm not on my best mood for this. I mean that sometimes I can just go and switch on the computer and open the Word and start writing about some great nonsense. Only because I'm bored and I like writing.

Hm... let me think... what to write about.... gee, my mind is blank right now... Allthough I could write about anything right now... and most likely noone I know won't come here to see what I'm writing here... Possibilities rise into my mind!

As you can most likely guess, I'm quite odd person. If you haven't guessed that yet, than I have light you day; I am an odd person.
Yes, that's correct. Very odd person. But there's an explonation for that. There's Kenderblood in my veins. That shall explain everything! As long as you know what is the term Kender... If you do, hey, that's great! If you don't... well, I don't wanna explain that for you. I just leave you into the... er... into the... *thinks* let say, into the cloud of mystery! ...can you say like that? You see, English is not my native language, I'm not always so sure what are the best words into different situations... so forgive all my spelling mistakes and other thing... I'm just a little Finnish girl with little...

Okay, I think I've written about 5 minutes by now. So it's time to say good bye... Good bye!!

text: hmm go to www.randomized.s5.com this site is mainly just supposed tobe a site to post funny stuff

text: I think maybe I'm crazy. No, really, I'm not kidding. To the point where I'm actually kinda afraid to explain to anyone WHY I think I'm crazy - I'm afraid that they'd be scared and agree that I AM, actually, crazy. And that would cause all kinds of problems. Because - I'm not dysfunctional. I function fine, interact with society like a nice, sane person - but in my head, I'm a little whacked. The way I think sometimes catches my attention, makes another part of my brain stroke its chin, raise an eyebrow and say "hmmm..." in a way that says 'something's not quite right'. The way I overanalyze everything - pick pick pick pick pick. The way I daydream without even realizing it. The way my train of thought jumps from track to track. I've started to actually notice these things about myself, and I'm not sure I like them. Maybe I'm not crazy, maybe I'm just needing an overhaul on my life, my self, my mind, my lifestyle, my surroundings, my habits, my hobbies. Maybe I need to start over. Maybe I just need to start. Pick a direction and GO - stumble barefoot down the rocky path of life, because at least if I'm moving it creates the sensation of a breeze, which eases the harshness of time just pounding on me like the sun, and when night finally falls I'll have at least done SOMETHING instead of just standing still and complaining. Why are my habits so hard to overcome? Will I be ABLE to change? Why do I want to? What are my reasons - is it for me, or because it's easier for me to trudge down paths people point me down rather than beating my own way through the bushes? I have to decide what would make me happy. And I have to focus on that, make a goal and STICK TO IT - despite what anyone else says or thinks. Gotta be true to myself...just gotta figure out who that is, first.

I wonder if this is a midlife crisis. Guess we'll know if I live to see 50.

text: My darling. I miss you, every minute I think of you, think of my arms around you, your arms around me. I want you with me, however impossible that may be. I am an idealist. You are, too, but not in the way I am. I long for the possibilites . . . You talk as if they are already true. Your assuredness keeps me going. You keep me going. Things would be different without you. I don't think I could have ever understood such a quiet happiness without you. I don't understand you yet, but whatever you do . . . you make me feel perfect. Am I perfect? Not yet, maybe not ever. You make me feel beautiful. Such an oddity for me. To feel beautiful? I've always felt plain, boring. Maybe I was never so vain to say that I was ugly, but I never felt beautiful until I was around you. I feel like you've put me on a pedestal, but keep pulling me off of it so you can get a closer look. Do you always find something new? Do you like what you see?

text: Is there really a last-ditch salvation option when your on one's deathbed? Is it really possible to live an entire lifetime completely ignoring reality, then, right before your last breath gives out, whisper a prayer that saves you, and makes light of every single life that you've destroyed in your attempts to gain more possessions? Or will they lie at my funeral, too? What happens when I die? No, I don't mean what happens -after-, not to me, at least. I mean, what happens in THIS world when I die, to everyone -except- me. That's really the only time the real truth of the matter will really be revealed anyway. How many people will go to my funeral because they loved me? How many will go because their afraid of someone yelling at them if they don't go? How many people will be staring at their watches, waiting for 8:00 to roll around so they can go home and eat the dinner they didn't think they wanted to eat? How many people will remarkably still maintain their appetite? How many people will decide that my funeral is a time for rejoicing? All the Christians, I'm guessing...and every clap of their hands as they sing their praises to God for His great mercy will be another stab in the hearts of those who truely cared. How many "Last Words" will people make up for me? Because I know I definetly won't have anything momentous to say. "Rejoice in my death." "Don't mourn me. Celebrate my passage." Blah blah, woof woof. How many people will really know me well enough to judge what I'd really say and what I wouldn't ever say? Who's going to make up MY last words? Who's going to shove my cold, dead mouth full of religious propoganda just to appease relatives who are too pious for their own good? How many people will testify my life simply as "misled"? And how many will admit to being the misleader? Who will even care, beyond shedding a few tears, and stripping myself from them like a skin that's outlived it's usefulness? Beyond taking my life as nothing more than a warning for others? Learning "valuable life lesson" bullshite and getting on with life? When I die, burn me and throw my ashes in the ocean. Finally free.

text: I had this hunger. I didn't know what I wanted or what it was for. You know? Sometimes when you want a banana and you don't realise you want a banana until you imagine eating it. So I sat and imagined eating all these foods. Chocolate? no. Cheese cake? no. Nachos and cheese? no......... I still felt empty. Really lost. I'm still hungry but I know what I want now. It's Him. He just popped into my head and as soon as I thought about him I realised what I was hungry for. Once I started thinking about him I couldn't stop. Every time he walks pass I'm more and more hungry. I'm like a chocoholic looking into a cake shop and seeing all the gooey, dripping chocolate gateaus and knowing I can't stop. Once you have one bite you'll want to eat and eat forever, but just now at a distance you're safe from yourself. I feel just like a chocoholic too. Starved.
people eat deliberately

text: so this is what it comes down to. because for once i feel like doing so. because really it's over and it wasn't as brilliant as i thought it was, and all the stupid small mistakes that i never notice that cost me what would otherwise have been a fairly decent score on a test of material that i should have known stone cold since march. before that, even. how about starting with basic integration? soph year, five weeks into the first semester, with a bad grade in the course that really never got better. and the administration never noticed that bad performance is cumulative? i'd expect that--they're that dumb. them what come from second-rate schools end up in second-rate schools. aim high, fall hard. my door is the schwarzchild radius of a war zone and it's going to be that way for quite a long time. perhaps i won silver knights. perhaps i'll get admitted from the waitlist. perhaps i should just go knock myself on the head and stop the wishful thinking now that five minutes probably has been over for quite some time.

text: He thinks I'm a bad friend. He SAYS I'm a bad friend. And that hurts me so bad, and the fact that it hurts makes me so angry at him, and then I wonder if he's right, if I really am a bad friend. The analytical part of me, the psychologist in me, says that it stems from his abandonment issues, his insecurities, his low self-esteem. I wonder if I'm making excuses. I don't think I'm a bad friend. A part of me, inside, knows that I'm NOT a bad friend, that I am, indeed, a good friend...but maybe that's wishful thinking. Should I hate him for putting doubts in me, for making me doubt myself? Or should I listen to what he's saying as true, and fix whatever it is that's apparently broken? Why do I keep on putting myself through it? Because we had so much...but did we really? Why did I stay so long - am I an optimist, or was I so afraid of being alone that I just kept looking the other way, because there was some comfort in the consistency of the discomfort? Love and addiction. People shouldn't feed off of each other. But there's this part of me, despite all the anger and pain and bullshit involved, there's this part of me that just won't stop loving him, and remembering the good times, the happiness, the comfort I felt every time I put my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. I still miss being able to snuggle up to him with his arms around me - I'd close my eyes, and the whole world was okay, I knew he'd never let anything hurt me...and I miss it so much, it's like someone's taking a really hot, dull knife and stabbing it deep into my chest and just turning it and turning it. But now, every time we talk, we argue, we hurt each other even more, and I just want it to stop. I want to be able to call him up and say "Hey, how's it going, what've you been up to?" and have him ask the same and really be interested & happy for me. But it seems like everything I do is wrong, it hurts him somehow. And I feel so guilty, SO GUILTY, because I know I hurt him so much in so many ways. I promised forever, because I wanted to be his comfort forever. He's had so many people abandon him - his mother, his dad, his great grandmother...all these people he loved so much left him, and now I'm just another person on that list, and it kills me, it breaks my heart into a million different jagged pieces, because I never, ever wanted to hurt him, and I feel so selfish for leaving, like I should have stayed despite the fact that it wasn't perfect, because at least I was there for him. But I was always at war with myself - is my happiness worth the price of his? Questions no one can really answer, although well meaning friends try to rationalize it for me, saying I did the right thing. I just don't know. And I'm sorry to post this all here, but I don't have anybody to talk to about it that will just listen. Any comments are welcome - even if you tell me to shut up.

text: Dreams...
Where are my dreams? my sweet and pleasant idea of what i crave so badly. All i seem to do is reflect the issues which face me everyday, the issues i long to change, and i long to disappear.
Sometimes i wish the World would change. My World would change. I seem to be going around in circles, the nitrogen cycle, except in a differant context.
Although now i feel my thoughts are free. i can think about something, anything and thing for a long time... its funny how we think. how one topic leads to another and another, like the 'mind maps' in my fathers note book.
i have nightmares about things i feared when i was 5. i see things which i saw then too, i open doors and look around corners and see images similar to when you push your knuckles firmly against your tighly sclosed eyes. i feel the same emotion and come to the same conclusion...

text: Be unpredictable.

text: 'Lo. This should attract me. Writing about anything. For a very long time I have only written what others wanted. Including personal letters. My style and subject material even change among my favorite correspondants. Where do you go to with no where to go to? Look at your feet. Describe them. Move them. Let them go. Ok. What do you see now? Nothing. Keep moving and feel what's beneath your feet, and feel what's shaking in your head. Here I am. Procrastinating but aware. Good to be aware of what you are doing. My footsteps leave an impression. I want them to be clean prints so that some anthropologist can dig them up some day and observe their pattern. The impressions I left...

text: Anger. So much, for so long. Why do I keep trying to work things out? Is the friendship worth it? Turns out the relationship wasn't. 3 and a half years of dating, struggling, arguing, ignoring, moving on...and finally I couldn't take any more. There was too much there to just walk away, though - too much history to just throw it away and cut all ties. So, friendship. But it's not so easy. I'm willing to be friends, no matter what - I'll support him in his decisions, be there when he needs someone to talk to, hang out. But the anger - he just can't let it go. Anger at me, for abandoning him just like everyone else in his family has done. So much anger that he won't face, he won't deal with, and so it all comes out at me - resentment, bitterness, hurt, anguish, broken-heartedness, anger, anger, ANGER. We argue incessantly about every little thing under the sun. His attitude towards me is bitter, prickly, defensive. I know what a good person he can be, but it seems that access to that side of him is only allowed if I'm dating him. Friendship can't be good enough, of course, even though I know I would be a better friend to him than girlfriend. Why can't he see that? Why can't he just accept that things didn't work out, instead of constantly looking for someone to blame? "Love doesn't just die, so it must've been all lies. I can't believe I wasted my life. You should have told me sooner, you shouldn't have let me love you for so long, you should have broken up with me when you first thought it wouldn't work out, you shouldn't have stuck around for so long making me believe it was forever, you shouldn't have told me you loved me, it was all bullshit." Etcetera, etcetera. I do love him, have always loved him from the moment I saw him - but it wasn't meant to be. I hold him so close to my heart...but being in a relationship with him isn't something that is healthy for me or him, mentally or physically, and certainly not emotionally. "We could've worked things out, I would have changed if you'd told me..." How many times should we have the same argument? How many times can we say "Things will change", only to have them stay the same? How long, how many times did I beg, how LONG should I have waited? Should I have stayed in the relationship for 20 years, hoping one day he'd keep his promises? I'd be a fool. I know that what I did was right, for both of us. Why won't he see that? Why won't he focus on getting his life together, move on, and still value what we have? I don't regret the relationship. He says he does, because he wasted so much of his life. I hate myself for hurting him - never, in any way, did I intend to hurt him. Why would I hurt someone I love so much? I hate myself for being another person that's left him. But where do you draw the line? When does it go from being self-less to being selfish? I begged and pleaded and tried and waited and argued and made up and did EVERYTHING, and then gave up. Was that wrong? Was it wrong to want to be sane, to want to lead a normal life and have a normal relationship, without arguing every day? Was it wrong to break things off, and focus on myself instead of 'us'? My common sense says no, it wasn't wrong. Practicality won over emotion, finally...but it doesn't make things any easier now.
And still, I try. Still I talk to him every day, still trying to keep the bond that made us friends in the first place. And it's so hard. Should I give this up too? I don't want to. Hope wins over common sense, now. It's like being caught in a whirlwind, a hurricane, being pushed and pulled by the thoughts in my head. Yes, no, right, wrong, up, down, alone, together, stay, go, selfless, selfish, what do I do what's right for me should that matter I can't abandon him completely, I know he doesn't have anyone else, don't want the dependency, want to be dependable, don't want to carry him, just want to be a leaning post, want to help, don't want to sacrifice myself or my sanity.......and the whirlwind keeps turning inside my head.
Maybe I'll leave the state. He'd be okay - but would I? It all hurts so much...where's the turning point?

text: i tried to teach suzy to play fetch. she rather obviously didn't want to play fetch. well, actually, she seemed excited. i had a tennis ball i found in my room. here's how things went:

kvn throws the ball.
suzy watches kvn throw the ball.
ball rolls a bit, and hits little brother.
little brother throws back ball.

lather, rinse, repeat.

needless to say, suzy never actually fetched the ball. she did, however, at one point feel a need to run after the ball, then stop to pick up a chihuahua and bring it to me. i think she was trying to encourage me. sort of her way of saying "you're an idiot, but don't stop now, this is too much fun to watch!" i think this is why i want a cat. they're fluffy, and they always look at me like i'm stupid. especially if i meow at them.

people are appearing online. everyone was on n/a earlier...i felt okay being just on "online"...with no away message to protect me from thepeople. now i'm not so sure. but yet...i feel okay, because i know they won't try to message me. they won't try to get into my life...to check on me... to see that i'm okay. well, adam has, but i can deal with one person. i think adam feels sorry for me, which is okay. that's not really what i'm looking for, here. there's a man outside. funny men outside seem to be an ongoing theme in my life. i hope it doesn't rain on this one while he's trying to talk on a cell phone. poor mr jay sir.

AIM is a bit different. there are names out there, but i don't know if they're looking at my name, thinking at me. oh, it's brian! well, that's not true. it's bryan. i miss bryan, which is odd, because me and him never really spent large amounts of time together. he's really cool, though. like jon. they're just...really cool. i don't know why. but most people don't strike me as being just inherintly cool. i can't spell.

i'm worried about my future. i'm scared, i think. unsure is more like it. i'm...not content. right now, what do i have? not a whole lot. these past 4 years have been rather horrid, through no fault of my friends or my own. they just have. it's been a struggle almost every day. the future...is really unclear. i think it could be better, though. it doesn't have shape, yet, so it can be changed. not that it isn't predestined, mind you. this is more of a psychological game i'm playing with myself.

and yet, i suddenly realize what josh had said to me earlier. why does this exist?

mewr

text: I was talking to my friend earlier and people says she bullshits. Now I believe them. It started because we both don't understand the point of learning endless amounts of pointless formulas in Chemistry.
We are just cogs and todays society is the machine. Well, that makes sense doesn't it? As I've been told before school is the perfect way to turn us into society's robots and I believe it. But when fundamentalism comes into it, it starts to get confusing. She swallowed a dictionary and doesn't know how to use it. Big words come out in the wrong order.
Well, I don't really understand this. If I pass please let me know. It's easier than an exam. I hate exams, I think I'm going to fail. I might pass this though.

text: The sixties was the last great hope for love and unity in mankind.
Everything since has been nothing but nonsense and greed. Mindlessness, herds of soulless people who can't expand beyond themselves and the tiny bubble they've created. Every man for himself, ever since the cries of 'peace' and 'love' and 'unity' and 'understanding' rang through the world, only to be ignored. No one wants to work together, but everyone wants to be in charge.
A cynic? Or a realist?
Am I awake while the rest of the world walks in a dream?
Or am I the one that is dreaming?
Am I angry at the way things are, or am I angry because I've been a part of it for so long?
Change is never easy until you're completely fed up. Fear must always be conquered.
What am I afraid of?
Maybe it's time to shake things up.

text: nawwwww i know your little plan mister [or is it misses]. your in a panic cause your english teacher is demanding your folio in before the easter holiday and you think you maybe have it in you but there's no way you can do anything remotely creative under the pressure. so you think, ah hah, here's a fucking idea: get people to write stuff on your website, do a quick copy and paste, and that'll be you sorted. but what if i just decide to copy out some well known literary masterpiece that your marker will understand but you won't have a clue. then you'll fail all your exams for this year and last and this time it won't be the sqa's fault mister. oh no.

errrrr sorry i have been very deprived of sleep lately. i feel like it's 5 am. oh shit, it probably is.

anyways is this an autmatic thing that will cut me off after 5 minutes or was i supposed to keep track of time? shit, i have absolutely no idea when i started this or how long ive been at it. i doesn't feel like very long. ill go now with the 5 last albums i put on my cd player: u2 - best of 1980 - 1990; radiohead - kid a; best of parliament; velvet underground - whit light / white heart; primal scream - vanishing point. and the last 5 books i read: alasdair gray - lanark; joseph conrad - youth; joseph conrad - heart of darkness; john burnside - the dumb house; lewis grassic gibbon - sunset song. and the last 5 films i saw [none of which i was particularly impressed by]: crouching tiger, hidden dragen; traffic; almost famous; enemy at the gate; gladiator

partick thistle second division champions 2000 - 2001

__
aG
off amr

text: I'm in that place right now, the place that puts me into such an odd mood. I'm up, full of energy, 'things are getting worse but I feel a lot better', and nothing comes out the way it should. I try and try to sort things out verbally, rant and rave and explain and discover, and it all comes out as gibberish, and people get hurt because nothing I say comes out right, and I try to explain that to him, but it gets all mixed up, angerhurtjealousyloveperfectionfrustrationwishinghopingfeeling, and THAT comes out wrong, and I end up apologizing and explaining more, and THAT comes out wrong, and I tie myself all up in knots trying to get him to understand my madness until I'm red in the face and breathing like a horse at the end of a race, and suddenly the river stops, the adrenelin runs out, like a roller coaster climbing a hill, and I turn and look at him and realize that I never even had to say a word...and then I fall for him all over again, and it frustrates me and makes me crazy, left foot right foot right wrong which way do I go what do I say what do I hold back how much does he KNOW (while my soul knows that he completely understands me just by looking in my eyes because the mask I wear only fools the fools and he was never a fool just an angel) I'm so lost and tied up kinda crazy, and it makes me twitchy, I'm like a live wire and I'm so tense that you can hear me hum like the generator on the back of the fridge and if he touched me I'd probably zap him or something, "there's that spark between us" I would say and he would laugh and we'd let it go at that because we aren't sure which bridge to cross right now so we're just kinda standing around waiting for the other person to make a move, and I'm gutless and don't want to risk losing what I have in the hopes of getting something better because if it doesn't work out I'm left with nothing and that's something I wouldn't be able to handle because he's the only one who knows me and it's hard to separate friendship from failed emotion and things would be ruined, but there's always that nagging doubt, nagging nagging nagging, 'what if?' and I wish and wish that I could be certain but I can't and that makes me CRAZY, and it's okay that he doesn't want it, because I'd be bad for him anyway, although he'd be the best influence my life has ever seen, I don't wanna drag him down, but shouldn't he want to pull me up, he's the only one that could do it, he makes me more, makes me want to BE more than I am, and I can't say it, but he knows, and that adds more frustration because it's like, if he knows and isn't doing anything to reciprocate, isn't that a sign that it wasn't meant to be, that he doesn't feel the same? Or is it just that he's waiting for me to get my head on straight, or make the first move for fear of pushing for more than we have, the same thing that's keeping me back? when all we should do is just smile, come clean and relax but it's so hard because what we have is so good that it'd be greed to ask for more and greed does nothing but come back and bite you in the end and maybe that's why my ass hurts and I know this doesn't make any sense but it does and that's all that matters because I understand it and maybe i'm too crazy for him but he's my balance my counterpoint he keeps me grounded and i keep things exciting and get him out of his head and into the world and it works and it WOULD work if we could just give ourselves half a chance to let go and jump because a little bird told me that jumping is easy and falling is fun...right up 'til you hit the sidewalk shivering and stunned and yes I love ani and quote her far too often but damn if the woman doesn't know how to express. This is how my mind works - random elements of chaos and confusion, and this is why i'm incapable of making a decision until I'm completely fed up and no one ELSE will make a decision but it hasn't gotten to that point yet and I should just ramble for him because he knows how to pick out the parts that have meaning and discard all the rest and even though he already knows what's burning inside my heart it needs to be said to be dealt with otherwise we'll just keep smiling and looking the other way and i'll go crazy with wanting and waiting and i don't need to be any crazier than I am why can't he just give in and become my partner, not my boyfriend, my partner, comrad confidant companion through life and love and all the trials and tribulations of this world I'd share it all with him, take him wherever he wants to go give him whatever freedom he craves, show him the world through my eyes, the tiny beauties i see every day that so many take for granted, that's why he likes me i see things differently and while he doesn't always agree he completely respects me and I can't begin to tell you how refreshing that is and maybe i'm not really in love with him maybe i just feel comfortable with him and don't want to look any further or maybe he's just such a contrast to what i'm used to that it seems like perfection or maybe that's just denial trying to talk me out of feeling this way because i'm vulnerable i'm at risk i could get hurt but can't blame it on him because he hasn't done anything to hurt me it's just my madness eating away at me and sometimes i get dizzy from all the circles that are running through my head, which might explain why i run into things and my balance is always off. I think I'd be able to walk a tightrope over the grand canyon or niagra falls if only he were standing at the other end waiting for me.

text: So I have infinite procrastination skills. I have . . . three hours, maybe four to finish my IB computer science internal assessment, never mind that phisics lab. It's wonderfully fun. But now I'm doing this. Because I'm useless like that. Nothing is that important to me, even though this probably ranks up there. Somewhat. I don't get much . . .

Umm. I'm not being able to pay attention right now, so I'm taking a little more time.

I don't have time for this. I don't have time for you. It's crazy. Fallout shelter sign. Beaty West was a fallout shelter, I think. Beaty East was the one I stayed in, I think, and it wasn't the one that was a fallout shelter. I wonder how many of the people I know will end up at UF.

I'm trying not to pay attention to everything else, but that's not working at all, because I end up paying attention, no matter how hard I try not to. Is that silly? Ridiculous? Whatever? Who knows. All I know right now is that my five minutes are pretty much wasted and away and that I have lost my train of thought. Everything's falling apart, and the bell just rang.

I'll get this in my email when I get home today. Joy! I get everyone's submissions by email still. It's nice. I enjoy reading them. So! Write more!

text: hey...new format...interesting...

i sound like i'm half stoned, don't i?

the emotional equivalent of comatose. sucker-punch inside the occipital lobe. probably more than five minutes but i'm trying to evade parental scrutiny here. there was another line...out and down, crashing after speed. i'm not. though half of them think i'm serious and the other half accepts it as blank sarcasm, and...
it's occurred to me far too many times that we all seem to care too much what everyone else will think. not what they're actually thinking, but what we think they are thinking, and that's what scares people. i could believe my computer's hooked on speed and needs it to function properly...perhaps all the programmers were, did ye ever think o' that, mr. gates? edge back from the point of beginning another rant on corporate tyranny...think, child, brilliant one, wind outside window and in a few minutes me and the dog will be out there as well to watch the storms coming in, escape from the hypnosis of pixels, escape from sick waiting for predetermined letters, it's been five minutes so i'm going.

text: Five minutes, eh? okay... i can do five minutes.

my dog is such a tubbo. she's sweet... but she's getting fat again *shakes head*

Hmm... what to write about. Oh yeah! people shouldn't be so extreme all the time. I mean, it's okay to be an extremist every once in a while, but try not to let that become a lifestyle if you can help it. if not, well... okay. but otherwise it gets to be a bit bothersome. and that's how you get blocked from my im list *noddles*

I really want a domain name. but honeybunny is taken. and so is hunnybunny. *sniffles* i want to have the honey bunny network... and have a nice pretty collective that you can pet and squeeze and love and visit a lot lot lot. I also want fielle's computer wallpaper... but that I will have later. now I must write! Yar!

*in a sing-songie voice* prom's in a weeeeeeeeek... prom's in a weeeeeeeek!

oooh! and now my time is up. adeu! adeu

text: I think that IRC is a fun place. I was just on an IRC network because it's what I like to do. It has a cool channel called revelations where you can create your own X-Men characters and FFRPG them. And then there is the admin channel, where I usually hang out because I'm an oper.. And I have lots of friends on there. And I'm an oper on IRC. IRC is so wierd. mIRC lets you see colors, but Unix text-only clients don't. Stuff happens on IRC like swearing, sex, and other bad things I shouldn't be knowing. I'm already corrupt enough. More then I should be. I blame people on IRC for corrupting me. IRC is a place to talk to friends, spam channels, download pr0n and warez, and music. And talk to people you've never met, and get in trouble. Then get deopped, and get your pr0n, warez and music stolen. Then getting hacked via IRC brings it all to an end. An end of 5 minutes of writing.

text: a world of kindness..a world where people are forgiving..this is all alien to me. this is what i cannot understand about others..at all..being so quick to forgive...why some people refuse to hold grudges against me for who i am, for what i have done..this is nonsensical from my point of view.

time is very fascinating. what if time goes in a circle? humans think that time flows more or less in a straight line. time began at zero, and stretches to positive infinity. we get the time function from this kind of thinking. however, what if time is a circle? we could flow clockwise or counter-clockwise. this might make reincarnation a feasible concept, when you think about it. instead of a constant cycle of death in the present and rebirth in the future, could you die in the future and be reborn in the past? you'd go from point B to point A, then to point C, then back to point B, maybe..wouldn't that be interesting? we'd finally get to see the french revolution, live! we wouldn't have to pay the $49.95 that pay-per-view and sky are charging per battle.

currently on my winamp playlist i have "black mages' village" from final fantasy ix. this track is very pretty, because of the main melody, which is some random mediaeval tune, remixed very funkily.

midaeval--medievil--skeleton--lower jaw--jowl--orc--ape--ancient ape--webpage--computer science IA

how disappointing it is that my word association game ended in such tragic fashion. i had hoped for a much greater...-

destroying religion and language barriers would solve nothing in the world. humans actually are enjoying greater peace times now than ever before, at least in modern history. it's probably been ages since there's been true world peace, and that only existed because large groups of humans were separate from one another.

what would we do if we found out that many millenia ago, a highly advanced civilisation really did rule the earth? then their pride was their downfall, and humans lost their knowledge and became stupid again. the atlantis myth carries over from plato all the way into modern entertainment, such as chrono trigger [kingdom of zeal]. it's a beautiful story, in a way. to know that many thousands of years ago a standard of living equal to or exceeding ours [in some ways] is really encouraging. that means that modern humans can surpass the accomplishments of their distant ancestors.

humans really are strange creatures, when you think about it some more. i like being rather sundered from much..from many...but not completely.

the end of internal assessments means the genesis of my creative writing. that's probably a good thing, even if very few people will read and understand. well, it's fun to over-analyse everything, and yet not be arrogant and assume that we're exhausting all possibilities. english skills depart from me now, so i shall end escape. oder bald vel'kh unheybn shraybn oyf yidish- oy oy!

text: It's funny when you phone me during my favourite television program. I haven't heard from you in a while, at least. My voice changes to appear more thoughtful. I can be a different person because I haven't spoken to you in a while.

I hope you look more apprehensive than I do when I see you tomorrow.

It's how things change, how things act and ultimately how things happen. The very fact on itself that there used to be three of us provides little solace. One of us lost to as we like to call it "the dark side"; alcohol, popularity and fabricated stories. But we're different.
We now have to speak in couples, a friendship forgotten by togetherness, with others. But we have a lot in common.

Discussing the ills of society I remember how you like to argue and always try and put forward something to discredit my side of the argument. I recall how if you said something in an authoritive tone it was suddenly correct. But you don't argue this time and our discussion ends up with some sort of vague conclusion.

You're more gifted than me, but I'm more interesting than you. All my good points are in points, intelligent, mysterious and introvert. Blessed with good out points we make an odd companionship. Perhaps this is what drew us apart, but I don't think we are as materialistic to let this get between us.

On the phone I arrive to the vague conclusion that I will see you tomorrow and go to lunch with you. I might miss something important. But I suppose that's ultimately how things happen.

text: Role-playing. No, i'm not talking about RPG's, like Final Fantasy or such. I'm using Dungeons and Dragons as my example. When i was in middle school, i used to play Shadowrun. It seemed interesting. Quite a few people were doing it, and it was mildly amusing to do something like that in a group. It seemed harmless. Then i moved on to Star Wars. i was already playing Magic: The Gathering. From there i also moved on to Star Wars. It seemed odd that i'd do such a thing, but i was more comfortable in SW than Magic or Shadowrun. Life moved on...

And then Griffen asked me to lay Dungeons and Dragons. I'd watched a random video that was about how "D&D is bad, it will make your kid into a |33+ psycho killer!" it was really quite absurd. It'd brought up a few things about how God didn't like role-playing, or rather how a few things in the Old Testament seemed against it. Not having heard any real evidence, though, i didn't pay it much mind. I only went to church back then, every sunday, religiously. I wasn't' a christian. And yet, when i read through the booklet...something felt very wrong. So i put it away.

Now, i've started looking at role-playing and what made me put it away. I read in the old testament about how witchcraft and the occult are evil. But D&D is only pretending, only playing, neh? Then my friend asked me a question: "Why would you want to pretend to do something that God sees as detestable?" What an interesting view. Like making jokes about war in front of a parent who's child was killed horribly in a war, role-playing would be very distasteful. Finally, things made sense.

note: not exactly a true story, but based on one.
note: obviously these are based off of my beliefs, based off of the Christian Bible, la la la

text: Five minutes of my time? I guess i can spare that. I have more than five minutes. 11:44, i begin.

My life seems to enjoy being absurd. I'm currently hated by a good deal of people. That's annerving, except that i've always tried to keep from caring what others thought. I started looking at the people i talk to online...Adam...James(?)...Jen...Michael... they're all second degrees to me. Even Jess is just one of jeanne's friends. Adam is christina's. James is Luke's stalker. Jen is Tags. It's all so absurd. What happened to the original people? It almost scares me.

What is my raison d'etre. Right now i'm serving as Sare's shadow. She needs someone to be there, to "champion" her through everything she's going through. So i will. I love her. But, on some level, it's absurd. Wasn't the park just a community like this one? Doesn't stacey hate me now? It's like things have come full circle, and i seem to think it doesn't matter. Or maybe i've been given another chance? Maybe that's it. I'm not really sure.

I've been listening to a lot of Mark Wills and Mercedes Lackey. Firebirdarts.com bugs me. They sell the Darwin Fish... i don't mind evolutionary theory, or even the religious equivelent. It's the parody which is something i cannot condone. Therefore, i'm very uncomfortable buying something from Firebird. Which is sad, because firebird is a really awsome place. But i don't want to condone anything against my beliefs. It just isn't worth it. My hands are cold, and i've served my time.

text: It's late.
I should be sleeping.
I'm avoiding it, again. Nothing new - I think I'm avoiding a lot of things right now.
Well, no. I don't THINK I am, I know I am.
Time to get my head on straight.
Time to quit being stupid.
Time to quit wasting time.

"Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown
waiting for someone or something to show you the way..."

Everyone should listen to 'Time' by Pink Floyd now.
And 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac.
That's where I am.

This is disjointed and unhappy, for which I apologize. My writing naturally reflects my state of mind, and, well, 'disjointed and unhappy' only touches the surface. Ugh - doing what needs to be done is such a pain in the ass.

I am bitter, I am angry, I am disgusted with the world, I am confused, I am frustrated, and I am jaded. I feel like a Limp Bizkit song, and that is just a sad, sad thing.

Yeah. More coherent writing/ranting next time. Tonight it's too late. Sorry for the mood.

text: so, youth is in ten minutes and 'm devoting five here. isn't that special? i feel tired in ways i don't know how to describe. 'm pretty much tired of school, and 'm tired of things around me. 'm tired of how we never have enough time in my family to devote to one another, 'm tired of the way 'm always not having enough sleep. i go to the first two classes at school in a daze. half knowing what 'm doing, but not really. and most of all, 'm tired of writing.

text: Well, so we have it. A new layout for escape. It's plain, and a bit odd at times, but it's not meant to be so exciting that you forget what it's for. Writing, contemplation. I'm still working at the error page. I need to do all sorts of error pages, don't I? Haikus, too.

Swiftly as it drifts
Catch it before it is lost
Drifting documents

Haikus are nice forms of expression. They're short, and Americanized, but pretty good regardless. Yes. I like haikus. When I write I often forget about other things. I can be in a situation where I honestly don't know what's going on around me. Until someone beats me over the head, that is. We got to do random association things with the ball of yarn today. It lead from naming colors, but we soon forgot which ones had been said, so we gave up and went to things like "Donatello" and "Shredder" among others. The ones that made people stare and cringe . . . those I can't remember. Maybe "Captain Planet"? It was a large ball of yarn, though. Pretty nifty thing. Yeah. I'm enthralled by yarn. I guess that's a kittyish part of me. It's just so much fun to do stuff with. They had it all over the room today. Time.

text: Alright, I may as well do this now. It's better than doing history, but I *was* watching KareKano. As always. It's very sad that I only have an episode and a half left to watch. Rar! *laugh*

Mm. You know, what one person considers moral is not necessarily what other people consider to be moral. It irritates me that some people think their morals are the ony way to think and any other way of thinking is very very wrong. Wait, let me amend that. They can think that all they want. It's when they assume that everyone feels the same as they do, or try to push other people into believing as they do, that I get irritated. That's how I feel about religion, too, although in that case it's better to understand that there are many different ways of worshiping. Too many people don't understand that. Too many people blindly follow the teachings of their faith without thinking about things, too. Religion is a personal, private thing. You can be led by the teachings of a particular denomination, but everyone has their own way of looking at things, so everyone should have a different spin on religion. Is any of this making sense? And I'm not wanting to make anyone upset by this -- which generally happens when someone starts a conversation about this sort of thing. Good thing this isn't a conversation. It's just the rambings of a gryphon who is desperately avoiding history work. And now she shouldn't watch more Kare Kano, but she probably will. Ja!

text: alright, i'm going to type. here. because people want me to, though i'd rather not, and...it seems wrong. definately wrong. matt is my little brother, by the way, in case anyone was confusing him with...other matts. or another matt. 'es...i don't know. he's my little brother, and i'm mean to him altogether too often. i have some pride in him, but...he lies too much, he...comes home every day with these stories about how someone oppressed him earlier that day, and he also is rather annoying. all brothers are, 'm sure, but...it deserves mentioning, still. the little green birkenstocks still fit me, on a side note. it makes me happy, for some reason. it's been...a long while. hmm...maybe i should force matthew to learn html and css and...all of that stuff. yeh. that would be fun, somewhat. although...

i really don't know. i'm rather sniffly...my nose is running, has been all day, and my eyes like to water up most of the time...most of the...time...

how is everyone? i wonder...i really don't know that, either. there's...kvn, christina, kristin, sebastian, and mikel...i know about them, most of the time. but...jeff? eh? how're you? or is that horrible for me to ask, since that's why you no longer talk to me? or is it...well, it wasn't my desire. it was your's. i won't change...not in that way.

i think i'm a positive person. although i'm horribly negative all of the time. i also overuse the adjective "horrible" and...permutations of that...but 's irrelevant. umm...i don't want to write anymore...apologies to everyone, if necessary.

text: I once wanted an invisible kangaroo for Cristmas. It's name was going to be nifty, like Himee, or mayby Joe. It was going to terrorize my brother while he stared at the screen. He was normally doing C++ or talking to friends for hours. Adam lives on the computer. He also plays Gundam wing over, and over. He has beat it thousands of times, but each has to be perfect and with every character he can possibly use. Evil people play "Frisbee f ootball", and the are all a grade younger than me. The adult dude, who was whereing blue shots, a blue shirt, and a blue hat was with the little kids, and his son was on that team. He would bend the rules, like when one kid stripped the frisbee from one of my fallen teammates, yet when both teams have a player holding the frisbee, he gives it to his team. He also tried throwing it over my head, but hit me across my eye and nose-bridge, when he still had a hand on it. He made us go on some insane "board-walk" that had discarded coke cans and shoes floating in the muck near the shore.He made us go right before our team made the winning point. Afterward, when we got driinks, he said "where is that guy I 'tatooed'?", meaning me. Whenever his team got a point up on us he said, like some demented program, "we totally own them, guys!", and then would beam the frisbee to a teammate, no matter whether there was a kid in the way. If the frisbee colided with a player on our team, he would grin stupidly as his team swarmed over him or her.

text: Well, I guess this is yet another try for me. I don't know what I'll do with all of the old submissions, but here's a new one for you, to see how it works, to make sure it does work. Everything isn't bad, and . . . I never really thought about it, but it's kind of funny how things turn out. I wish we could figure out a way to make pages . . . that'd be quite a feat. Maybe I can work at that. Well, this will be shorter than five minutes, because I'm afraid it'll just error on me anyway.