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"My art project has come to life! She is an old gypsy, practically extinct. She’s sitting on the rickety porch of her teetery little home. Looking up, she notices that even though it’s late, the moon hasn’t risen. She’ll just have to put one up there herself. She starts cutting a moon out of her red doormat. It’s tough to cut, and the circle is a bit jagged and uneven. She doesn’t notice that the moon has already risen, red, right above her home. The red begins to bleed out of it and onto the stairs of her porch. There is a little river of blood flowing from the top of her stairs down onto the path. The path stones are all slick and the circle of red fabric she had cut is now a bowl full of red."
So I was telling Esmerelda about this, and she says that red moons are symbols of death. I think this might be the first time I've dreamt about anything that could even count as a symbol... it's usually just really vague, like 'I was running around an apartment and we were hiding from people who were chasing us'. There's this one dream I remember really well, about this two men chasing me and Jessie and one was long and thin and the other was short and fat. Then I realized that I'm pretty sure that's just a dream of Jessie's that she told me about it. It's strange that it was assimilated into my memory.
There was this one recurring dream I used to have when I was younger, that this stocky sort of monster woman with snakey sort of hair captured my family in a cage. I think the cage was in Jessie's room, but at the time it was Jamie's room, and the cage was where his crib was. Yes, it was that long ago. Anyways, the only way I could free them was by drinking this potion, and she wouldn't tell me what it did. So I drank it, and I was standing in my hallway and there were mirrors in the rooms at either end, like one in the door of my parent's room and one in the door of Jessie's. And depending which direction I was facing, my teeth either looked normal or they were all filed sharp, like the monster's, and I couldn't tell which reflection showed the truth.
Now I'm just rambling. This is over.
NO- I just read possibly the greatest quote ever. It's a blog- dinosaur casserole. "1 Cup Stuff, Eight Cups Nonsense, and a lot of small, confused plastic dinosaurs." ahahahah. yes.
sha-doo.i'm kind of sad because upon reflecting on my blogging, i realise i've become fairly self-conscious in my writing. i used to just be able to lay everything out, but now that i know people actually read this... lol. let's not be delusional here, who keeps a blog if they don't want anyone to read it?
but here is the point: i am tapping in to my september self, all dark and light from summer. bee, remember our random latenight meetings? i wore cutoffs and blue sneakers and guy's tshirts and i'd longboard over to your house in the orange and gray night. there was not even the trace of a chill. i never thought i'd be able to survive another winter here (though days like today make it worth it, despite the cold cold cold.)
i'm looking for that focus and that knowledge of priorities and of my SELF. i had no one to answer to. i wore my hair short.
i may possibly be in alot of shit with some people. but i've decided that i'm
a) taking responsibility for my actions
b) not letting other people berate me for them. i mean fuck, i know what i'm doing with myself, thanks. everyone makes poor choices. just some people are willing to admit that it wasn't entirely by accident.
actually, i just have so many things to sort out.... criiiinnnggge. i'd much rather be spending quality time with people. and i have plans to do exactly that! haha. i have a math exam. monday. after this i will never have to write another math test for my whole life... well, maybe lol.
life is too real for a blog.
i am so, so glad for meeting with abbey tonight. i can't imagine who else i'd be able to talk about this with. to be perfectly honest, i wasn't even planning on discussing it. i was planning on carrying it around like my own personal load of blistering bricks.
my logical mind insists that i don't expect you to come and find me anymore. you insist otherwise.this is ca- razy!i'm subconciously compiling lists of songs that stir up bits of truth and of stories and movies with characters like me or like us, and i'm using it as justification. this is the way things are. that is how we are. that is what i don't want to be. this is what i've done. that is what i don't want to be. perhaps eventually i'll even write it down, or make a cd and have something for the sudden unexpected bursts of unhappy.
someone should write a short story about not having any real thoughts at all.
"what are you thinking?"
"nothing."
"come on, what?"
no, seriously. nothing.
this story should also involve not being able to stay awake while reading a story, waking up in a chair to a cat staring at you, having appeared at your feet. it should also involve several new ways of interacting with people, because i like to have references for the way i do things, otherwise i cannot justify them. also sandwiches. my house is empty and i am freezing to death.i had a dream while i was trying to read that i was standing on the side of the road. I must've been doing something I shouldn't have been doing, because cars were driving by and i was waiting for a reaction from one of them. then an older man with all very white hair and plaid drove by and threw a piece of garbage at me. and i woke up.
there were so many things i didn't vocalize yesterday-
how can i avoid you when there are so many pennies?
my own perception is slipping out of my control. i am myself and you are very specifically you. but now things are starting to blur and i feel like we're very slowly changing skins, to two different people who didn't know each other before November. which is no good. when i woke up today i took a moment to remember the specific feeling of the way we were, which was good. i need to be thinking in big picture, here. things are so easily reduced to spurts of a few days, or even just a few hours with you.
do i like waking up with anybody or specifically with you? no, wrong question. we, each other.
eugh. it shouldn't be this mindlessly impossible to maintain a certain level of clarity in the various aspects of life.
so it's about 12.15 right now, and I'm supposed to be working on art but I seriously, seriously needed a sandwich. the pork I'm using is supposed to be for tomorrow's lunch, but I think there'll be enough. the point is, it's super late, I'm supposed to be making art, no one is up and I'm dancing around my kitchen cringing because even though I cannot STAND to cut white onions, we have no red onions and I can't eat a sandwich without them! unless it's like, peanut butter or banana or something... my finger hurts from the onion because i have a papercut. I'm wearing a hoodie and boxers and tube socks. i don't like going out. i like staying in; I feel as though I could be someone's short story. ode to a seventeen year old girl romanticizes the age of seventeen...
park that car
drop that phone
sleep on the floor
dream about me
maybe i missed something about seventeen, but to be honest i think i learned my lesson at sixteen. i just do not have the time! but now i am eighteen, so i have to figure out what the romanticized view of my current age is. otherwise how will i know what to live up to? hahaha.i. adore. cat. stevens.
'i listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
where i'll end up, well i think only God really knows
I've sat upon the setting sun
and i've never wanted water once
no never never never never never...'
to be honest, i didn't think you noticed. at all. and so now i am prompted to write. this PostSecret book was so full of things i could've said to other people, so much more than the others! i wanted to cut them out and frame them and give them as gifts. i wanted to tell you how disheartening it was waking up without you!
i always worry that someday arielle will get on a bus and go away. but then she says things that remind me how tied we are to each other. it's one of those things where there just is no replacement.
sooo, i never blog. unfortunate? NO. i'm not good at making my life sound pretty. i don't have a encompassing opinion on the way everything in my life is going at any given time. mostly i just try not to completely blow everything... like tomorrow, i just hope i get about 60 on the replacement math test so i can replace my 44. ouch. i will not let art school be an excuse for lowering my academic standards! i miss hannah, she kept me in line. her excessive crazy translated into a slightly more diluted crazy in myself. and also, i just miss hannah. i'm never really around at school. she has a boy. it's unfortunate.i'm tired. i'm worried about abbey. and hayley. and the way i relate to my mother. and about math. courses courses courses. i just want to be taking something else, already!today i had an overwhelming desire for tempura. so i called my mom when i got home, and i was all: "JAPANESE FOOD?!" and she was all "dinner plans." so i ended up eating miniature meatballs, 3/4 f a grapefruit, 1/4 of one of those frozen pizzas we got from band (SO GROSS) and half a thing of french fries. the remaining fractions of my food were consumed by Jamie.today Billy said the best thing EVER: "face lick, nipple pinch, BOOB PUNCH."exact words. i would not joke.
