| white |
[Apr. 16th, 2009|09:39 pm] |
a little poem i would like to turn into a song:
a blizzard blows outside my door a gentle howling turns to a roar look outside, it's so hard to see there's no one there, it's just me
white it's white all white
rain pours down in sheets of glass my umbrella won't let it pass white clouds hang heavy in the sky i stop to look and they pass me by
white it's white all white
white light pours in through window panes i sit beside it and refrain from thinking about yesteryears today is now, the light is here
white it's white all white |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 5th, 2009|12:29 am] |
being at home makes me feel very strange. it brings back lots of memories, reminds me of all the people i used to know, used to care about, that are no longer part of my life. i try to grasp hopelessly at some sort of meaning in previous interactions, try to reconnect with whatever spark there was there at some point. i'll call, or email, or facebook message, or text, or something. just to check in, but secretly searching for a shred of intimate interaction. instead i just end up driving 5 hours to visit people who are on the periphery anyway, people i barely know, but want to know, because there has to be a connection out there somewhere!!
i miss having a best friend. someone who's always ready for an adventure. someone to tell everything to. i miss dan. sometimes i even miss jana. but i suppose in the end it isn't the person that you miss, really... it's having a person fit in that role in your life. when i miss dan, don't i really just miss him because of the role he played, not because of who he was? |
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| i'm on a private helicopter with my favorite ex-girlfriend |
[Dec. 27th, 2008|04:26 am] |
please excuse typos. in bed and hands are cold so one hand is under the blanket while the other types.
dan came over today. showed me a sculpture project he'd done recently. http://www.flickr.com/photos/bengston_morgan/3000204278/
it was crazy because it looked so much like a screenprint i had just done:

i said, "how weird is that! get out of my head!" and he said, "well. it's a lot more than just in my head. i've written over 30 pages about this project and why i use this shape." it's not that it's just "in my head"... i certainly haven't explored its connections as deeply as i'm sure i eventually will, but there's no need to get holier-than-thou with me. he was also surprised that i got "what it is called" correct... it's a fucking dodecahedron. it's a basic platonic solid. i could understand him being impressed by "truncated icosahedron" or "stellated dodecahedron" but what the fuck? what does he take me for? was i that dumb when we started dating, that he still expects ignorance from me?? no, he was always like this. condescending and surprised by other people's intelligence. (am i like this? i think sometimes i am.) but it's what made it impossible for me to be with him. i never felt like he respected me. i feel like he thinks women can't make good art. i am also so offended by it because maybe he's right.
i need to be more diligent. i need to work harder. am i only ever doing this to impress him? to beat him? i constantly felt like i wasn't good enough. maybe i am still trying to justify to myself that i am worth something (even without him), but it is still by his standards.
maybe we were just too much alike. |
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| snippets from phantom tollbooth |
[Dec. 13th, 2008|01:06 am] |
if you're (whoever is reading this) wondering why i am putting this here, it is just so i don't forget. i'm doing a couple projects about the phantom tollbooth and need a place to store things, and this seems to make sense. not sure why. --------------- mile after mile after mile after mile after mile after mile after mile after mile
the doldrums, where nothing ever happens and nothing ever changes
don't think, think of thinking, surmise, presume, reason, meditate, or speculate all time is spent daydreaming and napping, all dawdle and delay lingering, loitering, putting off tomorrow what could have been done today loafing and lounging and dillydallying, wasting time, procrastinating if we stopped to think or laugh or smile we'd never get nothing done ----- he thought of birds that swim and fish that fly he thought of yesterdays lunch and tomorrow's dinner he thought of words that began with j and numbers that end in 3 he thought of all the things that were round and things that were green of the many detours and wrongs turns he could take he thought of all of the things he'd wished he'd been taught and of how much could be accomplished with just a little thought |
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| song for milo |
[Dec. 10th, 2008|01:38 am] |
-based on the phantom tollbooth by norton juster-
[C Fm] when i'm in i long to be out when i'm out i long to be in i wish i were somewhere else
there's nothing for me to do nowhere i'd care to go to and hardly anything worth seeing
[Dm F Am F] i don't see the point in learning anything, learning anything [Dm F i can't see the point [ Am G7] i can't see the point in anything
[C Fm] i'm always in a rush to get nowhere nothing really interests me i wonder why i bother
{i don't see the point in learning anything i can't see the point i can't see the point in anything}
[Bridge] i look around the room, i don't see anything i don't see anything.
{i can't see the point in learning anything i can't see the point i can't see the point in anything}
another long afternoon. |
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| the pupil of my eye is a hole |
[Dec. 10th, 2008|12:17 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | grumpy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the microphones | ] | i simultaneously wish to bury myself and extract myself. i want to derive intimate comfort and remove myself from the situation entirely. i want all or nothing. the problem is, i can't decide which.
i hate nothing more than feeling taken for granted. i feel like i am treated like a machine meant to provide food and back rubs. i need mutually beneficial exchange. tired of giving. refuel. it's only when it's convenient for you. you don't really care what i have to do or when. hurry up, what's taking so long.
worst advice ever given: stop caring. |
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| anxiety |
[Nov. 23rd, 2008|11:26 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | 21217 | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | anxious | ] |
| [ | music |
| | hum of airplane overhead | ] | there is so much i want to do that sometimes it is hard to breathe. |
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| my favorite poem |
[Nov. 16th, 2008|04:26 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | 21217 | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | calm | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the birds by alfred hitchcock | ] | .Invictus. William Ernest Henley OUT of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. |
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| max |
[Nov. 16th, 2008|01:54 pm] |
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i had a dream last night that max sent me an email. i don't remember what it said, but all i emailed him back was, "i miss you." |
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| art |
[Nov. 16th, 2008|01:17 pm] |
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aw, forget it. |
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| hello! hello? hello? |
[Nov. 16th, 2008|11:49 am] |
there's nothing quite so lonely as walking home by yourself on a brisk, overcast morning. the house is empty, the lights are off. i make coffee, there's something comforting about the sound of percolation.
i feel the least lonely the more alone i am.
at least i think so. |
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| Alex asked |
[Nov. 16th, 2008|11:04 am] |
1. Name: 2. Birthday: 3. Place of residence: 4. What makes you happy: 5. What are you listening to now/listened to last: 6. Do you read my LJ often?: 7. If you do, what is particularly good/bad about it: 8. An interesting fact about you: 9. Are you in love/do you have a crush at the moment: 10. Favorite place to be: 11. Favourite lyric(s): 12. Favourite time of the year:
Recommend: 1. A film: 2. A book: 3. A band, a song and an album:
Plus: 1. One thing you like about me: 2. Two things you like about yourself: 3. Put this in your LJ so I can tell you what I think of you. |
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| radio |
[Apr. 3rd, 2007|12:14 am] |
i love the radio. i think i played a really good show last night. i'm listening to it again and i love every song i played, even the stuff i didn't know and chose randomly. the levels are pretty good, and i have less banter than i did the first time because i'm running around figuring out what to play next, but i think it's good. i'm getting better, i think. |
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| art |
[Apr. 2nd, 2007|10:32 pm] |
sometimes i think art is like having a baby. you create it, you nurture it, you have problems with it and try to fix those problems before releasing it out into the world, but then when you do put it out there, there's no looking back. i think i have serious parting issues. i bet if i had a kid i'd kill myself when it moved out. babies are painful. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 7th, 2007|05:19 pm] |
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To be an artist! Yes, I wanted to be one, not only to escape from the material jail where property, large or small, imprisons us in a circle of odious little preoccupations, but to isolate myself from the control of opinion... to live away from the prejudices of the world. -- george sand |
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| the most beautiful day in the world |
[Mar. 3rd, 2007|01:29 pm] |
today is the most beautiful day in the whole world.
breakfast consisted of: two eggs, over hard, very crispy with salt and pepper cooked in butter green grapes a couple slices of pineapple pear juice
spent $5 on clothes at the possibility shop and got: a doilie a little yellow box a nightgown a shirt a dress kid's sweater kid's sweatshirt gloves scarf pair of shoes
MAN! good stuff. except there was this lame hardcore girl who followed me over to this sweater i was looking at and would have bought and snatched it up the moment i turned around! and she was from CONNECTICUT. aghh. but the old people were REALLY nice! so whatever. fuck her!
i am so ready for 18th century night!
and blaine is playing a concert tonight, too. i'm so excited! |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 17th, 2007|09:01 am] |
i just really don't understand how i do such horrible things to the people i care about. i have no integrity at all. i just want to find the easiest possible solution that causes me the least amount of actual harm, with little regard for the other people involved. i feel like i'm going to vomit. i don't know how not to be the way i am. i don't know how to not seem insincere. i never know how i feel, so i just make it up. and so it's a lie, or at least not always true. but i always got in trouble for saying "i don't know." it's really like i'm empty, and i can fill in whatever emotions are applicable at the time, and also can change them later if it's convenient. but saying all this doesn't CHANGE anything. how the fuck do i change it? how do you start feeling, start getting in touch with yourself better? i try to listen to myself, but it's like i have nothing to say. in fact, this is probably all bullshit anyway. and this disconnection from myself is probably why i have so much social anxiety too. i'm afraid of talking to people because it usually inherently challenges these facades i create for/about myself, or at least there's a chance they'll be challenged, and that's threatening and stressful. so it's easier to just stay in my room, where i'm safe and alone. no integrity. none. i'm scared because i'm getting to the age where i'm supposed to have all this shit figured out. i don't want to be someone who doesn't. i think i'm going to puke. |
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| i don't know how i feel! |
[Feb. 15th, 2007|10:29 pm] |
i was going to write something but now i forget. i think i wanted to say that i don't know how i feel anymore. i have no idea how i feel. how did i get so disconnected from myself? how does anyone get so disconnected? it's so strange!
i really like this one line from harvey danger right now... so i sit and notice shadows growing. i think of how the clocks are slowing, hoping hope's eternal flowing springs will do their thing and save me from myself. |
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| terminal annexes and dangling conversations |
[Feb. 11th, 2007|01:41 pm] |
i really hate the way i interact with people. everything i say sounds (dumb, at least it's stupid -- harvey danger) insincere or something. but i really am interested. i'm just so concerned with sounding interested that i come across as not listening. i just talk about these novelties about myself, i don't actually convey information about who i am. or maybe the fact that i talk so much about that stuff conveys that that's all that i think is important, or something. i try to connect one novelty with another, constantly pushing conversation as far as i can. and when i try not to do that, it just seems forced. but i want to LISTEN better. how do people talk??
terminal annex -- harvey danger here's something beautiful now smash it to bits save your little wheelchair empowerment films save your swoons, i'm spoken for it isn't pretty to think so but i can't feign interest now dreaming of the fistfight i never got into thinking of the mean shit i wish i'd said to you such a fancy lady, call her secretina she didn't get all the good stuff but she looked like you like a zero drowning in a sea of higher numbers everything you say to me is dumb, (at least it's stupid) twenty heavy hammers smashing down here's a doorstep you can never darken you complain about an overflowing cup. don't forget that i'm the one who filled that fucker up like a zero drowning in a sea of higher numbers i remain as ever intrigued but no more astounded like a zero drowning in a sea of higher numbers i think that i like you better when you just ignore me so i sit and notice shadows growing i think of how the clocks are slowing hoping hope's eternal flowing springs will do their thing and save me from myself like a zero drowning in a sea of higher numbers i remain as ever intrigued but no more astounded like a zero drowning in a sea of higher numbers you want ego? i will show you ego i'm jealous now |
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| emo band-aids |
[Feb. 9th, 2007|01:19 am] |
i just had this idea to make emo band-aids.
EMO BAND-AIDS feeling that the pain of the world is on your shoulders? use EMO BAND-AIDS! come in trendy colors so you're not afraid to show your wrists!!
man, i'm a marketing GENIUS. -------------
i can't decide if i love or hate the smell of a watch put on while your skin is still wet. |
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