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i had two intensly felt dreams last night.
the first was a detailed account of me drowning:
i was barely conscious as i was sinking to the bottom of the river and when i'd hit the ground and realized i was still alive i started to slowly swim upwards, trying to battle the current.
i could breathe,
but i knew that soon enough i would have to start inhaling water,
and then i would die.
the other dream was being stuck at a family reunion in a big mansion with my extended fathers side of the family, and everywhere i turned,
i was somewhere i didn't want to be.
and for some unknown reason, i could never leave.
i need to stop eating cheese before bed. |
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Dear Karma,
How are you? I am fine.
I do not feel like being sick anymore. I know that in recent months I may have done a few things to warrant a small karmic backlash, but i hardly think pneumonia is an adequate rebuttle. due to the relatively small-scale nature of my offences, I would suggest a lighter course of action. For example, something caught between my teeth during a date, stubbing my toe on the coffee table, or even a flat tire. I will accept a week of sickness, I will accept the wage loss, the loneliness, the quarantine, the feeling as though death is looming in the corner of my room at all times, etc. But anything more than that is simply unacceptable and I will not stand for it. i hope you will not take offence to my request Karma, I am a fan of your work and look forward to our future relations together.
Thank you for your time and hope you will review my case when considerring future judgements.
Sincerely Yours,
rosalyn. |
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i have bronchitis. it could possibly be pneumonia. the doctors aren't sure. this is quite possibly the worst way to start a summer.
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ooOo... i'm feeling blissy. oh so blissy. summertime, summertime the birds are chirping and the bees are trying to have sex with them (or so i'm led to believe). the sun is shining, there's music in the air and everything is just dandy. hooray! i love this weather, this is going to be the wickedist summer, i'm planting my garden, i'm making piles of fire wood, i'm reading my books, i'm listenning to tunes, i'm so excited. fuck yeah! |
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the last person i wanted to date was myself. that's the last person i can trust. the last i would count on, the last to get anything done. how could i believe some one who regurgitates my own lies back to my face? that's my line, that's my excuse, that's my vice. get your own personality defects, fucker.Current Music: propaghandi - cut into the earth |
| » tippity tappity typity |
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i am in what data would call a "quantum time loop" of shit. like the same shit, happenning over and over and over, same faces, different faces, same people. i just got my first mosquito bite of the season, right on my thumb. bloody 'ell. this is all more heat-score than i think. i am so sick of drama whoring. i want to punch. and kick and bite and scrape. i'm going to be in trouble. trouble begets trouble. this bite hurts so much. i have 2 burns on my finger from someone elses smoke. right through my little fingers. ugh. i swear to ya. one of these days.
May. 18th, 2006 @ 11:58 pm
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| » sshhh! nobody mention the pink elephant in the corner. |
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i'd like to give a big shout out to my old friend from out-a-town: Ambiguity. gosh... what on earth would i do without it? talk? this is like the 15th time i've played the "i-don't-care" game with someone. i realised now that i really don't know anything else. i'm no good when it comes to real emotions. i bottle them like a good beer. dark glass. never have an 'on' night. never have courage. no balls. no guts.
Jan. 11th, 2006 @ 10:58 pm
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| » the mean reds |
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the blues is something you can sing about in 8-32 bars, in F or Bb or what-ever key you like, about a girl or a boy or a death or a boss. there's country blues, standard blues, jazz blues, parker blues, blues blues. you can't sing the reds. or maybe the reds turn into beethovens ninth.
Dec. 26th, 2005 @ 11:07 pm
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| » blues on sunday |
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so there's this girl at school that died today. i didn't really know her but i knew her face. and i could help but be sad. and we all know it wasn't for the loss, but for the idea that that could be me. the notion that it was an accident. an accident that could happen to anyone. not to me, not to me... it made me think of the time that this happenned and it DID mean a lot to me and how i was so sad. i'm sure a lot of people will be sad... and then i think and i think about how, or if, i have made my life very significant. and that if that were me, people would be affected, the jazz people the friends of parents people the drinking buddies the highshool friends the old roomates the exboyfriends the girlfriends the buddies... but the other people the people that didn't know me and might have seen my face once and wouldn't really give a shit... did i leave an impression? did i do the best i can? did i acheive? i don't think that in facing the moment of death i would be afraid. i know i wouldn't. i feel prepared for it almost... i've led an awesome life. more than most. a lot more. and i know what it's like to love and feel and hurt and lose and live truly and fully, but i don't want to die. there are things i would like to do first that would give my life more meaning, that would make my life more substancial. times like these just reinforce that urge to be better, to live for the moment (AS I TRY...) and give up the half-assed view of life most of us take.
Nov. 18th, 2005 @ 01:46 am
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| » i miss my car-puddle |
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i am so unmotivated.
no...wait, that's not quite it.
i want to do so much. i long to do so much. but i can't do it.
i just can't.
i start and then i can't finish. i do something else to avoid starting.
and everything that goes around comes around and soon i know i will think back to this lazy afternoon and say "what a waste."
but right now i can say that the sun is shining throught the 3 leaves left on the trees and that my head full of ideas and although i won't act on them,
i am glad they are there.
Oct. 23rd, 2005 @ 03:19 pm
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| » where's the love? |
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i built a table and two chairs and now they are sitting in my room and are the pinnacle of sensible furniture. i'm reading a book about death right now. i saw an awesome concert last night. an old, like really old, man accosted me and then stole my beer. i wasn't as mad about the beer as much as i was peeved that he mistook me for a singer. just because i'm a girl doesn't mean i'm a singer. music is all about the balls. balls balls balls. i can still drink you under the table.
Oct. 12th, 2005 @ 10:59 pm
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| » the first day of the rest of your life |
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ugh. i've had this horrible feeling. what's it called? ambiguity? i dunno. i feel all the time as though i just figured out the secret of life only to have it rear it's ugly head and say "uh...no..that's not quite what i was getting at" ugh. it's just not fair sometimes. why can't i be an architecht (maybe because i can't spell it) or an engineer or a scientist. i just wish and wish. why do i have to be all that i can be in a field where i can't really amount to anything...
Oct. 12th, 2005 @ 01:34 am
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| » dude, that's deep. |
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"I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived."
-Margaret Mitchell
Sep. 26th, 2005 @ 11:23 pm
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| » every cowboy sings a sad, sad song |
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i'm trying to maintain composure. so far i can avoid most feelings with humour and detachment. it doesn't really sink in, what we've done, until life starts to get back to normal and there's you missing. and although there was this sort of agreement that if we ended things now it would avoid resentment and hatred, i think i have to fabricate a little bit of hate just to move on. otherwise it's just so hard to justify, but so for the best, i know. i find comfort in the solitude of practising or homework or making bad breakup mix cd's (so far i've made 2..) and just putting on my headphones. i danced last night. i danced my little heart out. it's the first time i've really danced (like REALLY danced) in a long time and it felt incredibly liberating. i broke down on the phone today. it was just a little too real too fast. but this will get better. i just know it will.
Sep. 26th, 2005 @ 12:38 am
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| » my boyfriend broke up with me and all i got was this lousy t-shirt. |
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day one:
have only cried twice in past 3 hours, think this is a sign of
improvement.
have recovered quite well from what was sure to be a torrential
hangover, by stuffing face with greasy sal's breakfast.
will continue to stuff face throughout the day, with ice cream and
potato chips left over from my birthday.
trying to look at the good things about being single, like going off
the pill, replacing intimacy with some sort of hobby like scrapbooking
or decoupage.
i could finally put together that telescope or model gliders. i could
even learn to paint or draw. maybe i'll write a screenplay...
oh my god.
i have to replace my screensaver...
and my desktop...
and my heart.
Sep. 25th, 2005 @ 11:45 am
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| » in the bell jar |
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you know what? i think it's gonna be okay. ihave so many people. so many . and i guess some times i can turn a blind eye, but there are so many... i'm so fucking drunk...montage, montage. montage after montage... fuck.
Sep. 25th, 2005 @ 02:47 am
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| » the art of time suckage |
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yargh. even the simplest descision. the simplest. everything. every little thing is a big deal. i am going out of my mind for a while, be back soon.
Sep. 23rd, 2005 @ 09:07 pm
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| » my ears are ringing. |
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either my drums are blown out, or someone's been talkin'...i am now mars volta's biggest fan. i love them like i love my cats; they are smaller than me, but full of character.
Sep. 23rd, 2005 @ 12:40 am
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| » why can't i have sex dreams like a normal kid? |
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i had a bad dream last night. a really involved, very realistic one.
at the end of the dream i had lost my two best friends.
and it's dreams like those that actually kinda do have some meaning.
i think they prepare you for the worst.
remind you that shit can happen.
or make you realise that people are shit.
but i cried in the dream and now my eyes hurt.
Sep. 7th, 2005 @ 09:49 am
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| » id've slapped 15yr old me in the face. |
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i've compiled a box of all my journals from 13 - 20 yrs old. there's about 8 full books with enough teen angst to kill a small mammal. when you don't think about happiness it's taken for granted, then you're reminded of just how far one can actually sink and boy do ya wish you would've written about a few of the good times as well. i ate 3 marshmallows today, toasted to perfection.
Sep. 6th, 2005 @ 11:20 pm
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juvanile's journal