The Deviant's Diary

Don't Fucking Tell Me What to do

2012-02-15T10:40:00.001-08:00

Don't tell me about my grungy teabags

Or if I shouldn't bring a map

Don't ask why I leave so early

Or comment on how much pesto I eat

Girl, lemme be in my own damn bubble.

This day

2012-02-02T09:29:00.000-08:00

This morning I went to Rome's Body Worlds exhibit. I've seen the show here and back home in Philadelphia. Both times it has made me question the boundaries of what is acceptable and what is not. The first time I saw thew show it was only adults that had donated their body to science and it was strange and disturbing what happened from there. Today's show started with a disclaimer about the show being genuine but do not except to find information on the bodies used in it. Corpses of infants, children, teenagers, and adults littered the the showroom. Standing in front of the display of the pregnant woman with an 8 month old infant inside her made me question these people's lives, who they were, and how they would feel knowing they were on display. It was surreal staring at dried out tongues and skin with hair still attached to it. Something about staring into the empty sockets of these empty cavities was other-worldly.

After that I had Italian class then to design class. I'm headed to Milan next weekend. Today in class, we went to Mussolini's villa, which was also surreal. Walking through the empty halls with my friends was sensation I had never felt before. We were alone save for the video cameras. Neoclassical ballrooms, Egyptian themed bedrooms, and breathtaking gardens.

Via Roma

2012-01-18T23:26:00.000-08:00

So I've been living in Rome for 12 days now. I've managed to argue with my long-distance boyfriend, make an ass of myself in public, and get lost. I've seen things more beautiful than I can describe and tasted incredible food. I wonder how I will readjust to American life. No walking to the market to buy oranges, or seeing St. Peter's Basilica on the way to class. I won't have any breathtaking vistas to admire, or roses to smell.

Slowly I'm remembering/relearning my Italian. I'm starting to act less "American". I sincerely wish I had brought proper clothing. I wonder why I didn't pack well. Nerves I guess.

I like it here, not enough to permanently stay, but it is changing me. I can feel it.

People

2012-01-04T11:33:00.000-08:00

Sorry I'm not worthy enough for you. Actually I'm not. I care what you think of me, you win in that category. Your disapproval of my lifestyle choices are upsetting to me. I worry about what others think of me, as I always try to improve who I am. This is something you ought to work on.

I know I act impersonal with you, it was a conscious choice. As was the decision to be with the people who make me happy. This is why I was not at Christmas. I'm slowly learning to balance happiness with ego. Ego is a dangerous thing. It is necessary to have one, but once it gets out of control, it is a beast to tame.

So why am I impersonal with you? Well have you ever been personal with me? Can you recall how my hair falls or the pattern to my walk? Do you know what I do for a living or who my best friend is? No, I can't answer these questions for you either, and there is a reason to this. I am the black sheep of the family, the outcast you pretend to forget. I've always seen it, you do a poor job of hiding it. I know I don't fit in, and so I started to spend time with the people who accept my eccentricities. It's been much nicer.

I will never please you in the ways I had hoped, trust me I tried. There is no use trying to please the people who shut you down. This is the explanation to my impersonality. It is my resignation to the fact that nothing I ever do will be enough, so I simply stopped trying. Call it a copout, I won't argue that, but realize I had reasons for acting in such a manner.

Please, do me a favor, take the ignorance you have of me and let it grow. Forget me, let me be. Why? Because you will never stop me.

The Past Men

2011-12-26T20:58:00.000-08:00

Chris
Edmund
Zack
Richard
Tom
Edward
Padriac
David
Dan
Greg
Marbles/Jake
The Hungarian
Randy
Matt

mio amore

2011-12-25T18:31:00.000-08:00

I stared at him in the disjointed light, diced by the venetian blinds. I knew he'd always remember this moment. He'd think of how he felt. How my red nails looked against his skin.
His eyes were so telling. All the pain and confusion and hurt. It was so raw. But I wasn't afraid.

I just wanted him to stop hurting.

The Fall

2011-12-16T17:29:00.001-08:00

45 minutes ago I got off the phone with my Aunt.
The conversation reaffirmed my philosophy of family: You can pick your nose, your friends, but relatives, like nipples, are just something you're stuck with.

There are those families who are all pretty supportive of each other and have holidays to catch up on each other's lives and share gossip. That's not my family.

My family is wealthy, at least my mother's side. Even if they don't have money, they act as if they do. Business attire, never casual. Always busy. Always professional.

Anyways, next week, Christmas, I'll be with my boyfriend. His grandmother is having dinner at her home. I say "I'm going to go visit an elderly widowed woman who would love to see me on Christmas." Most stable people would react with, "Oh, that's sweet. Hope you have a nice time, sorry you'll be missing our (Insert blank)", or "Have fun, tell her I said hello!". Not "I really am surprised at this decision. I've always been level with you. I can't fathom why you would go that weekend. You're on Winter Break right now, aren't you? After all your parents have done for you, and what they have been through...missing Christmas with them, I can't understand"

I guess I could have lied and called in sick.

Life. Success

2011-12-14T15:20:00.000-08:00

Every minutes of everyday I think about the millions of little steps I can take to success. What people do I need to talk to. What risks should I take. Who do I need to call?

Will it all pan out?

Will I achieve my dreams?

Utopia. Rough version

2011-12-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

People as a group try to achieve perfection but you cannot suppress human desire.

Texts: Watchmen, The Shakers, More's Utopia, Genesis, Plato's Republic.

2011-11-30T18:39:00.001-08:00

‎"Life is like a VCR. If you put chicken in it, it won't work properly."

wise words from my roommate

2011-11-22T12:02:00.001-08:00

i learned its a bad plan to write "analysis" as a stop motion movie

no one wants to see anal 

Ian's Take

2011-11-15T09:17:00.000-08:00

"“I think the problem with society stemmed from when things like cars and televisions and stereos stopped being luxury items and became an expected item in someones life. IE greed became the norm. when you become greedy, you think only of yourself rather than others. I remember when mangos were a luxury fruit, now every corner shop sells em, and people expect everything. It's an inability to realise how lucky you are to have what you have"

If I were to create my own Utopia

2011-11-15T07:23:00.000-08:00

A rough start:

-Gender equality

-Both men and women are required to take time off work to rear children. Both parents are given 3 month paid leave from work when a new baby arrives. Men are encouraged through this to develop their nurturing side.

- People are used as testing for new products, not animals

- Prisons are horrible places, not vacations

- Free therapy for the populous

- Schooling is mandatory for 15 years

-Must learn: art, music, theater, sports, reading, writing, mathematics, science. No standardized testing or competitive schooling. All things taught are applicable in the real world; such as balancing checks, filing taxes properly

- After 15 years students can pursue up to 5 more years in academia in whatever subject(s) they choose.

-Banks and corporations are regulated by the elected oligarchy. Oligarchy is elected by people though. (contains 8 people, 4 men, 4 women). Decisions made by them must be unanimous. Each member is responsible for a different aspect of society. (Education, Jobs, Government Expenditures, Healthcare, Foreign Relations, Industry, Housing/ Development, Population)

Suicide.

2011-11-07T07:08:00.001-08:00

Mark Rothko

Vincent Van Gogh

Ernest Hemmingway

Sylvia Plath

Isabella Blow

Alexander Mcqueen

Diane Arbus

Soup!

2011-11-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

Black bean broth

Regular vegetable broth

cashews, split lentils, black beans

carrots

onions

celery

Garlic and Chive cheese

parsley

salt and pepper

Also for fun

soy sausage

rice

2011-10-26T18:12:00.001-07:00

public schooling in a nutshell: blacks were oppressed. white men are suppressive egotistical misogynists who cant control their desires. women are loose and shouldn't be trusted. asians are super intelligent but cant seem to speak english properly if their lie depends on it. AMERICA RULES! go jesus"

Chat Conversation End

2011-10-23T08:51:00.001-07:00

New job. New people

This time around; music

Stage manager... and I'm barely an adult.

Nearly 20

2011-10-13T18:37:00.001-07:00

I'm turning 20 soon. I've been working my ass off to get to where I am and I'm taking a moment to reflect on what I've learned from life.

Life: Chances are everyone else is just as pissed off and frustrated. It's the recipe for success. No one got to where they are by magic.

Being confident is almost as hard to achieve as happiness. Both are definitely worth the effort.

Survival and actually living are very different things. Take risks and be afraid, it means you're getting somewhere.

Fall in love every so often. Love is the closest thing we have to magic.

Take care of your body! At the end of the day, after work, and class, and whatever else, you are left with you. Own that.

Le Fin

One time in college....

2011-10-02T17:04:00.000-07:00

I met a guy on a Friday afternoon. A butcher. He told me he was 30. Saturday I met his family. His brother talked about this guy's daughter. I was confused. Sunday he tells me he's 39. He lied because he was afraid I wouldn't like him. He then said he had a 21 year old daughter. Then he asked me to move in with him.

I booked it outta there.

On humans

2011-09-27T07:10:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of reading and discussion in terms of, well, us.

Organized people's productivity versus that of a 'sloppy' person. Are messy people less happy? Are organized people narrow minded? Why do people who live in poor and abusive environments stay there? Why do they not have a desire for something better?

My roommate told me of her best friend's ex girlfriend. The girl grew up in an abusive home so she was sent to live with her grandparents. Her grandfather proceeded to sexually assault her. She got a boyfriend who sold her into prostitution.

Another person she knew was abused at home. Her mom tried to kill her sister, so they were sent to live with their grandmother who eventually kicked them out for their behavioral problems. They spent high school in foster care.

Both of these girls have a baby to care for as well.

Stories like these are fairly common. People are hopeless or afraid of leaving home.

A boy gets a football scholarship and goes to college. He has such a hard time adjusting to the academics and social change he goes back to his home. His home where his brothers molest his sisters and where he has no indoor plumbing or electricity.

And if he were to stay he would have lost his family because the experience would have differed him so much.

These are the people society hides from, while they desperately try to forget themselves in unachievable beauty and lifestyle standards. While they bankrupt themselves on a mortgage they can't afford. While they divorce and remarry, just so they won't be alone.

Fixing Education

2011-09-22T17:23:00.000-07:00

Some friends and I took a stab at it. Here's the conversation:

"Here's something I don't understand. There are, to my knowledge, roughly 5000 colleges and universities in the USA. Why not get rid of the less beneficial ones and put money towards the others so I'm not $40,000 in debt by graduation? Or give money to all the people who can't afford college and get financial aid.

· · 3 hours ago near Philadelphia

- What would you do with all the students at said colleges? Would that end up seeming like a push to get rid of small colleges? But then I think that most small colleges have better finaid than bigger colleges. How would this affect acceptance rate/exclusivity?
  3 hours ago ·
- I think there should be actual research done in terms of the quality of education, the acceptance rate, and the percentage of people hired after graduation.Most of research I've seen appears inconclusive or poorly investigated. From there, colleges that have the lower scores should gradually be phased out. Students and professors would be transferred to better schools. Eventually, over say a 15 year progression, colleges will have increased size and professors and student body. The surplus from closing down the other college would go towards financial aid. The plan isn't foolproof but no plan is.
  38 minutes ago ·
- The main thing I remember is a college I had never heard of in West Virginia called my home and offered me a scholarship based on my GPA. It sounded suspicious and I found it strange a college just happened to have the resources to do that
  37 minutes ago ·
- If there were less colleges around, there would be less reason to keep tuition competitive.
  
  And the kind of government review program you're talking about would take cash away from the federal aid programs we already have.
  - ah
    hrmm
    i dont want competitive tuition
    but i get your point
  - 13 minutes ago
    
    it's that competition that was going to get you a scholarship in the first place
  - 13 minutes ago
    
    But my point is competition or no
    many people who need them aren't getting them
    let alone a chance to get them
  - I'm sure somebody accepted it
    not like they're going to let scholarship money sit around
  - -Think of the cost of running all those academic insitutions
    companies like GE are getting away with tax exemption
    the governor of PA just cut education funding to put it into prisions
    60 percent of students in the area around temple dont make it to high school graduation
  - 10 minutes ago
    
    yes, education should have more funding
    that was not what I was arguing against
  - 10 minutes ago
    
    I know
    It just seems all those im power put money towards prision instead
  - 9 minutes ago
    
    they do
  - 8 minutes ago
    
    *sigh*
    so no proposition of your own?
  - 7 minutes ago
    
    about balancing the federal budget?
  - 7 minutes ago
    erm. i guess thats where i went
    everything federal relates
  - 6 minutes ago
    it begins with cutting the defense budget
  - a sliver of that would be enough to fund that university review program
  - 3 minutes ago
    
    alright
  - 3 minutes ago
    
    I don't claim to know enough about how the system works after that
  - 2 minutes ago
    
    I dont either. other than too many people are getting away with too much illegal/undemocratic crap
  - working around special interests groups and the like, cutting wasteful spending, and telling local schools to stop pretending like they're going to cut the bus system
  - Special interest groups we can survive without I think
    they seem to work more for $ and big business than the common woman whos working 3 jobs to feed her family
  - about a minute ago
    
    they're broken as they are
    
    take the special interest groups supported by the tea party, for example
    the play like they're grassroots groups when they're being funded by NewsCorp et al
    and then they talk like they're the common man who seriously thinks that corporations should get a tax break
    that sort of thing could only be solved by government regulation, which defeats the purpose of special interest groups
    so like I said, broken
  right

20:30

so I say

ditch the groups

which is impossible because lobbyists and corruption

here comes an impossible scenario

get rid of lobbying. (hey! look at that. the news is already less bias!) that knocks out interest groups. The middleman is gone and actual citizens get to have a say again

they can call government officials and politicians and have their voice heard

the impossible scenario would need impossible setup

like taking away the value that a lobbyist has to the politicians it funds

so then, where does campaign funding come from if not the lobbyists?

lobbyists get their money from business, no?
12 minutes ago
so then take my setup and replace the word "lobbyist" with "business"
because it's the same thing
12 minutes ago
okay
11 minutes ago
with the same interests and results
11 minutes ago
business would then need to do something with the $400,000 salary lobbyists have

11 minutes ago
put it back into the economy
pay off the taxes im sure they owe
let alone campaign funding
8 minutes ago
or fund a propaganda campaign on all major stations explaining how the government is full of evil socialists who want nothing more than to beat up those poor multinational corporations
8 minutes ago
that already happens
7 minutes ago
because lord knows they won't put the money towards improving the working conditions of third world countries
7 minutes ago
we need our indian tech support
7 minutes ago
if big business was forced out of the political process, they would try they're best to get back in
*their best
6 minutes ago
i realize that
and no amount of regulation will stop them
but trying to eliminate their power hold will do some help to the rest of us
5 minutes ago
it would be entertainment
seeing the results

2011-09-22T13:56:00.001-07:00

Here's something I don't understand. There are, to my knowledge, roughly 5000 colleges and universities in the USA. Why not get rid of the less beneficial ones and put money towards the others so I'm not $40,000 in debt by graduation? Or give money to all the people who can't afford college and get financial aid.

Ralph Eugene Meatyard

2011-09-21T05:53:00.001-07:00

2011-09-19T17:37:00.003-07:00

vulcan

thor

fenrir

2011-09-19T17:37:00.001-07:00

vulcan

thor

fenrir

2011-09-17T17:33:00.001-07:00

butter in soup broth can be delicious

Newness; a sense of space

2011-09-17T12:28:00.000-07:00

I sit here, in my new place, my temporary place and think off all that has gotten me here. Every space is temporary. This place, with its broad walls and low ceilings, is just that a space. It is not home. The laminate floor sticks to my feet as I walk. The noise it causes reminds me of dogs running on a hardwood floor. These walls, part exposed brick, part drywall, tell the stories of what people have done to them. What they have endured silently.

The view, pieced together with 6 separate windows, shows me a bleak city. My city. Philadelphia to be precise. Crooked venetian blinds hide it from me when I no longer wish to see derelict buildings with skyscrapers on the horizon; hope in the midst of chaos.

This place, with all its imperfections, serves as a place to store my things before I move on. It is a home for my objects and the memories I have associated with them. It keeps me dry in the rain and warm in the cold. Its a place to create memories, to laugh with friends, and to be held in.

Religion and success

2011-09-06T05:47:00.000-07:00

Something my roommate said struck me as particularly interesting. God, is the Christian sense, is perfect and can do no wrong. People spend their lives hoping to see this perfection at the end of their lives and in turn are not productive or successful in their lives. The Greeks knew the faults of their Gods and knew they were on their own. They got shit done.

And now they are legends.

What will they say about the Christians when their era is over?

2011-08-29T16:00:00.003-07:00

Mac vs Pc

Art is impratical, so is the cost of Mac. It is only logical they should be paired together. But "Susan" from "Cleveland" still can't help fix my Vista.

2011-08-22T20:58:00.001-07:00

My boyfriend kisses like a death eater

2011-06-05T20:00:00.001-07:00

Cream cheese and cheeseburgers can be a lovely combination

That story again.

2011-05-30T22:43:00.001-07:00

my story - dedicated to nick kelly.

…

I have this very vivid memory. I’m 8 years old standing in the hallway of a hospital. There is a nurses station of some sort with all these life monitors. The kind with the green line that goes up and down. Sharp lines, piercing the screen. And I’m there, watching, captivated. And the monitors, a few of them, the lines are barely moving, some of them stop completely. And I'm just standing there, standing, feeling like, I dunno, powerless. People are dying and I’m standing there, just a kid.

…

There was a time when I was five. Rocking my heels on the step outside my house. Listening to my neighbor after her only child had ended his life. All I remember was the screaming.

…

Maybe I do more than I think. Maybe I don't. I often wonder if other people are worth the time. Then again, I'm usually so lonely I bother with them anyway. If you can get a person to laugh, it kind of disarms them. Then you get to see they are as fragile as you. Maybe.

I seem surer of things than I am it seems. Some people think I'm smart. It's possible but I don't see it because of all the other people out there smarter than me.

My grandmother used to press her ring finger into the base of my spine to get me to stand up straight. I was always hunched over, muddling over the idea of making a mistake. Apparently, mistakes aren't allowed. Without mistakes, how does one learn?

........

I wonder if everyone cared would that solve things? What if people sat around and wondered what the ant they just killed for ignorant household invasion thought before he was slain. Would it make a difference?

Imagine a world with no obligations, would people become entirely self absorbed?
....

The first anniversary of my uncle's death.

I think about the impact he left on our lives.

It was one of pain. He was in pain, but he didn't fall gracefully when he died like his father did.
My grandfather. The nurses at the hospital were crying after he died. People he never met came to his funeral. He was an unsung hero, touching the lives of so many people. He would always say "personality is half your life." He lived by those words. He knew everyone and everyone knew him. Newspaper articles, news stories. Everybody talked to him. He was such a great influence but I feel like it was wasted on my youth.

He killed a man once. He had too. Murder isn't murder if it's war. Does that still make him a hero?

What is the measure of a man?

I'm not here to define that. I doubt anyone has the right too. Some people feel they have enough degrees to have earned the right.

...

Sometimes you meet someone who takes your mind off things for awhile. A yin to your yang. And then you learn their story. You lock eyes and a moment is shared that can't be expressed in words.

…

Maybe I do more good than I think. Maybe I don't. I often wonder if other people are worth the time. Then again, I'm usually so lonely I bother with them anyway. If you can get a person to laugh, it kind of disarms them. Then you get to see they are as fragile as you. Maybe.

I seem surer of things than I am. Some people think I'm smart. It's possible but I don't see it because of all the other people out there smarter than me.

…

My grandmother used to press her ring finger into the base of my spine to get me to stand up straight. I was always hunched over, muddling over the idea of making a mistake. Apparently, mistakes aren't allowed. Without mistakes, how does one learn?

I still slouch

….

I sat in the corner of my graduation party, listening to my family talk about things that didn't concern me: the wine list, the work load, the mundaneness of adulthood. And I glowered at the grim prospects of their definition of my future. I was 18, successful at unsuccess. Art school bound. Not a teacher, or engineer, or speech pathologist, or veterinarian. I listened to the drone of their combined voices. Finally they addressed me, the supposed star of this disarray.
Apparently, they decided I, the one that refused to be what they wanted anyways, have a defined pattern.

Something about how all teenagers, because they know so many, hate and disrespect their parents once college starts. "You think you're so smart and know everything. You're parents are going to look like geniuses once they stop paying for you to go to college." I, the destined to be failure with goals and a dream, was apparently going to fuck it up for myself. This is after getting into college for something they didn't want me to pursue. I like the logic here.

…

A love letter.

2011-05-30T21:54:00.000-07:00

To my not-so-significant other,

I think you're pretty cool. I like you and this could be something that lasts. The problem is that you're in it for the long haul; I'm not. You see, I'm a bit like a cat. I see something I fancy and take possession of it until I become bored. You, my dear, are the current object. Granted, when I see something good I know it.

There is something about you that I can't describe. Perhaps it is your eyes or your disarming manner. Either way, you are special to me, but don't think you're irreplaceable. Yes, that does sound harsh, but so is life. Yes, I took you off cloud nine and gave you a dose of reality. Never did I believe disillusion was healthy; the pain of truth always seemed the better route. Truth is necessary and love is a dangerous game.

I am writing you this letter as a sort of warning. When I first met you I mentioned that unruly temper of mine; you said you didn't notice it. Well, you have been given fair warning. That temper is filled with jealousy and obsession and so is yours. I see it in you, that stubborn, jealous anger and the low self esteem you do your best to hide. I see you falter and I can see through the veil you use to hide your weaknesses. You're afraid of many things, and so am I. I'm afraid that I can't love as deeply as I want, I'm afraid of how possessive you are, I'm afraid that you think of me as a trophy instead of a girlfriend, and I'm afraid of all the things in your head you never say.
Sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is say the things they don't think they can.

If we are to have a future together we must tell each other the thoughts that cross our minds. Silence really can be deafening.

One more thing, and I'm sorry that this sounds like nitpicking, but it is my nature to over analyze. I am very strange and complex. I suppose it could be fun to unravel the mystery. My nature is one that likes to flee to new places. New places provide a different outlook and a chance to reinvent myself. I need that every so often, and it is a pleasure I indulge in. That being said, I need you to let me free. I think the saying is if you love something let it free, if it comes back it was meant to be. That's the best summary I can give of myself. I need you to think of things other than your routine comforts. The danger of routine is it can grow and hinder you from thinking outside the box, and I live my life avant garde. I don't expect or want you to jump through fiery hoops in an effort to proclaim your love, but I do expect you to never try and make me stay put. If you do, I will leave.

It is a lot I am asking from you, but I think we have something good here, and I'd love to make it work. I just feel a danger in your desire to stay with what you've known all your life. I am constantly changing, and growing, and learning new things about my surroundings. My fear is that a distance will eventually grow between us that cannot be bridged. I implore you to embrace the beauty of life, a beauty that exists outside of a day-to-day routine. I'll be waiting for you on the other side.

2011-05-10T16:54:00.001-07:00

My philosophy on life: if it cant be done in heels, it isn't worth doing.

2011-05-01T19:49:00.000-07:00

My distinguished aunt in her navy pantsuit texting on her Trio during my graduation.

His dirty sock that came to life as he tapped his foot to the melody of his mandolin.

2011-04-18T18:08:00.001-07:00

I have a thing for abandoned theme parks and fashion blogs.

Note to self

2011-04-03T20:05:00.000-07:00

Don't think about boys.

Don't think about the way their eyes gleam when they look happy. Or the way they have that extra element to their walk. Or the way he folds his hands over his knee. The largeness but swiftness about him.

Don't think about him.

Somethings I've learned

2011-03-26T08:34:00.000-07:00

Don't go to Italy in July.

If you're afraid of heights, and it's raining, the top of the Eiffel Tower is not the place for you.

When in a mosh pit, support the feet of the person who stage dives, otherwise you might get kicked in the face.

If planning to hike a volcano, walk around on sand dunes beforehand as practice.

During a hike, there are many things that can trip you. Be careful.

2011-03-21T19:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Art,

As much as I love you, I'm writing to say that we need some space. It's been ages since I've done archery. I can't remember the last time I played a game of chess. I've really been dying to learn Krav Maga. Also, I want to finish War And Peace; I've only gotten halfway through. Maybe it's me being selfish, you can say that i...f you'd like. But please give me some time to think things over.

Sincerely Yours,

Carolyn

2011-03-14T15:57:00.000-07:00

What do I want?

I want to be able to wake up next to someone who's peacefully sleeping beside me. I want to be able to simply say "Good Morning" and hear it back to me in a tone that says "I'll be sticking around for awhile"

2011-03-06T20:28:00.000-08:00

I don't know.

I don't know all the things the injected in me when I was in the hospital.
I don't know entirely why I was there. My mother won't tell me.

I don't know why my mother won't apologize.

I don't know why she won't get help.

2011-02-28T18:59:00.001-08:00

The was the first time I had ever seen fear in his eyes.

Facebook

2011-02-17T20:26:00.000-08:00

I was on Facebook. This guy I've known on and off. Insinuates.

so I thought about the website.

What it meant to me.

It didn't

It was an outlet for faceless faces to voice voices that couldn't be heard.

To make the mundane monotony of life an electronic footprint

A message for all to read

For all those who don't read

Who are having their own mundane lives elsewhere.

2011-01-27T17:36:00.001-08:00

That was the day the tanks came

2011-01-21T16:36:00.000-08:00

2011-01-20T06:42:00.000-08:00

"The point is, that every piece of art changes your whole perception of the rest of
the world for the rest of your life. And it's not a joke! And if it doesn't, then it's not
art, it's a commodity."

- Lawrence Weiner responding to a question from Liam Gillick in "Between Artists"
pg20

- This is an interesting view and one I haven't heard before. Art, at least in America, seems to take a backseat to entertainment. In the UK, and USA, people average 3-4 hours a day in front of the television. I guess you could say some of whats on tv is art, since art has no real definition, but it doesn't seem to be the environment for the type of experience described above.

The idea of something changing your perception is unsettling.

2011-01-11T06:48:00.000-08:00

I wondered if he was still a virgin
and what he thought of me behind his smile
I've heard your heart skips a beat when you sneeze
does that happen when you fall in love?

2011-01-07T16:28:00.001-08:00

I imagine I'm the type to read self-help books and lie in hammocks, but I've never done either of those things.

other people's lives

2011-01-07T13:57:00.001-08:00

Igniting the end of the cigarette while far off in another town, a work boot crushes an old leaf.

Inhale. Exhale. Go for it.

Cramming into another pair of Manolo's - the car door closes and the engines purr to life.

2010-12-21T14:39:00.000-08:00

I didnt say im a freak
and you arent either
its everyone else that is
the ones that can hide it
and ones that do things to others
those are the real freaks

2010-12-15T09:05:00.000-08:00

She stood on the porch watching the fireflies

She felt a hand on her shoulder

He dropped his hand in desperation
Not having known what else to do

He tried a few words.
None worked for what he wanted to say

She walked a few steps and turned

He pursued her.

2010-12-10T06:15:00.000-08:00

Alas, I am free from the first semester of college.

Virtual human development game

www.human-age.com

This has been playing up some of my time.

Now the semester is ending

2010-11-13T07:33:00.000-08:00

Next semester promises three less credits and color!

2010-10-28T08:26:00.000-07:00

Ah college. Robbing me of free time. Alas, I shall make a vivid return.... one of these days.

2010-09-24T18:17:00.000-07:00

2010-09-20T13:26:00.000-07:00

College is time consuming.

I fiddle with things now.

things that bother me

2010-08-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

Tan underwear
Pastel colors
Yellow tiling in bathrooms
The word "goody"
Twitter
Men in V -necks

2010-08-18T21:19:00.001-07:00

http://www.aquiziam.com/strange-places-people-live.html

college in under a week

2010-08-04T18:05:00.001-07:00

Maldives.

2010-07-10T14:08:00.000-07:00

I can't speak German! This was a bad idea from the start, why did I think I would enjoy this? Did I think I would enjoy this?
Here I am, alone. I'm standing in the Frankfurt train station, part of Frankfurt airport. My cell phone plan has decided it does not want to co-operate. I tried using the pay phone and managed to dial Canada.
I am looking for my stop on the chart, I cannot find it. Wurzburg. The stops are listed in German, starting destination, ending destination. No stops. I cannot find where I am supposed to go.
Finally, I work up the courage to ask a stranger for help. He speaks English!
He got me my train ticket, I thanked him and he was gone, already a memory. Part of a reality I was not believing. The whirr of clashing cultures and sounds and people, it was too much to take in, at least in the state I was in.
I was told to go to the long distance trains. I did. Staring at the vast chart of arrivals and departures, I again failed to locate where I was to go. I asked a man helplessly for direction. He sent me to the short distance trains, where a disinterested woman told me she did not think I was in the right area. No one seemed to know where I was to go. People were amused at the lost expression on my face. I was both terrified and embarrassed.
Finally I venture back to the help desk and a new guard is on duty. He is warmer than the previous guard. Alas, I find terminal 4; my original location was the correct one. All the venturing between terminals had been in vain.
Waiting for the train to come, I shiver while I look at the arched ceiling. It reminds me how insignificant I am, how alone I am. My train comes. After compulsively rechecking that I was boarding the right train, and asking a passenger to validate it, I collapse in a chair. As soon as I get to my senses, or at least part of them, I notice the business man listening to American female pop singers. A smile crawls onto my face as I realize that there is always a sense of amusement lurking.
The scenery whizzes by as I speed my way to phase two of my challenge. I sit staring at the window, too afraid to focus on what it shows me. I knew the trip was insane. What was I doing in the country my father tried so hard to forget? He knew it couldn’t be done, if he erased his past he erased himself. So here I was keeping his memory alive. I served as a reminder of his past.
He did not seem to accept who he was. I guess I too was trying to come to terms with who I was, to find an identity in a world so immersed in pop culture. I guess you have to get lost in order to find yourself.
I'm headed to a destination among many. I haven't eaten all day. I'm scared. I'm exhausted. I started off in Philadelphia and then landed in Frankfurt. I'm headed to Wurzburg only to find my cousin so she can take me to the ending point, Waldbuttelbrunn. This is the village where my grandmother grew up. This is the village she left and never returned to.
In essence, I have to go to a town I can barely pronounce, to find a woman I hardly know. I haven't seen her in fifteen years. I don't know her age or what she looks like. Why did I agree to this disaster in the making?
Getting off the train, I realize that I never was told where to meet my cousin. Was I to go into the terminal or remain on the platform? I walk down to inside the station, where a woman approaches me and speaks to me in German, of course. I shrug, feeling helpless again and utter the word “American.” She smiles, at once switching to English.
Pointing back up to the opposite platform, she says “A woman up there is looking for you.” Great, I love lugging my suitcase up stairs. What does my cousin look like? Is she tall? Old? Suddenly, I hear someone call my name, my cousin.
It is over now. I am home, back in a country I can navigate with ease. The experience I had overseas made me appreciate willpower. If you want to accomplish something, you can. It all hinges on whether or not you are willing to put all you have into it. It is an approach I am learning to apply to most aspects of my life, whether it be preparing myself for college or pacing my time to get a project done.
The future no one can be sure of, but I am grateful for my capability to handle stress and unclear situations. It is rare to have the ambiguity I faced in June, but I handled it. I realized this means I can handle other situations with a calmer demeanor, because in the end, you can not have complete control. You just have to work with what you have and that is all anyone can do.

2010-07-06T19:03:00.000-07:00

I'm the thought that never crossed my mind.

I wander and never find.

Art is the thoughts in my mind that are too abstract to put into words.

At the end of the day we are merely a sum of our parts.

2010-06-13T17:23:00.001-07:00

With the glowing screen keeping me company.

2010-06-06T17:10:00.001-07:00

And I fingered the worn photo she looked at me with a sad smile. "Her name was Melanie."

2010-05-21T10:26:00.000-07:00

The feeling of her lips against his bare shoulder.

His nose buried in the smell of her hair.

His arm sticking to her waist. Humidity.

The furtive glances and sheepish smiles that follow.

The innocence of sleep.

Brushing the hair from her face.

Numb arms.

Readjusting positions.

Love.

2010-05-15T10:02:00.000-07:00

I'm curious about the moral implications of recreational sex.

2010-05-11T12:16:00.000-07:00

A lesson in love and defeat

To love the defeat
to find love in defeat
to defeat love
to love in defeat

2010-04-29T11:10:00.000-07:00

He was in love with her. That was his secret. That was why he could not forgive himself- he never told her.

It was his lack of control of her reponse that crippled him in the end. It left him empty.

2010-04-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

She left him standing there at the edge of the road with bitter tears in his eyes. That was how he remembered her.

He had hated himself ever since. Maybe he was too harsh on himself. But that day crushed any faith he had in his future. Maybe that's why he stayed.

2010-04-26T06:06:00.000-07:00

It was the way her skirt moved as she stood in the creek and the way the light shone off her hair. That was what he remembered about her.

Six years had passed since that summer.

She had since moved to Manhattan. He stayed in the quiet town. The memories fueled him, the safety. The shadows the willow trees cast on the streets.

But she was returning. Her father was ill. She was leaving her urban life to come home. Home to the town with the shady trees and hazy skies.

He knew she had changed. The city life robbed her of her free spirit. He didn't know how she could be happy in such a cramped places, full of smell and traffic.

But she had kept in contact with him all those years and that was what mattered.

2010-04-15T02:53:00.001-07:00

It is officially mid April. What have I to show for it? A desire to sleep and nothing else.

2010-03-26T05:41:00.000-07:00

Tell me the river and the grass and the trees
Tell me why you had to leave

Tell me the wind and the stars and the sky
And tell me why you made me cry

reflections of the day

2010-03-16T10:23:00.000-07:00

No AP exams for me. 80 dollars I don't wish to have spent. Is it education?

The art of love. But I feel nothing compared to how he loves me. Am I to stay with him? A fool I adore who is so unworldly according to my own definition. But is my definition jaded?

Today the relationship achieves a new level. He feels significance. Will I?

He is simply a boy, I feel. Innocent and shy. Perhaps he is not innocent. But he accounts for himself, and that's why I like him. He in uneducated but adorable in his ignorance. Is it enough I continue to wonder...

The lost art of thought.

2010-03-03T06:08:00.001-08:00

But he adores me I say.

But he makes me happy I say.

But is it worth it I wonder.

2010-02-18T16:41:00.001-08:00

FML.

2010-02-14T19:58:00.001-08:00

I love him.

2010-02-09T10:58:00.000-08:00

I miss your scent and the shape of your shoulders.

2010-01-31T16:06:00.000-08:00

There was once a girl who was in love with a boy. He never knew she existed thought she tried and tried to show herself. One day he noticed her but it was too late.

2010-01-28T11:01:00.000-08:00

Boy. You're so smart you're stupid. Boy. You sit and you think and you learn. But you don't live. Boy. You know every word and how to spell it, but when was the last time nature left an impression on you?

Boy. Brains are good but what do you do when you reach the top?

Boy. Get out boy. Go see the world before it's too late.

wanton

2010-01-19T10:15:00.000-08:00

I like my soup cruel and sexually promiscuous.

2010-01-12T09:48:00.001-08:00

Help. That's what people seem to want to give you when you tell them a sad story, your sad story. But sometimes you don't want help. You simply want someone else to hear your story.

My uncle was molested in the first grade. By his principal. Skeletons in the closet.

And now he's dead.

I think everyone has a back story. They have to have one. I guess it's whether or not you're real, if you've toyed with life and it's bitten you back. Sometimes I think people haven't experienced the pain I have. Maybe I'm just being selfish.

Sometimes you just want physical pain, because your emotion is long gone. Or maybe it was never there to start.

The best stories told are the true ones.

Pain. Sometimes people turn it into hatred. Hatred on others. Hatred on themselves. It all depends on strength of character. Sometimes they don't even know the pain is there, all the worse.

I have this very vivid memory. I’m eight years old standing in the hallway of a hospital. There is a nurses station of some sort with all these life monitors. The kind with the green line that goes up and down. Sharp lines, piercing the screen. And I’m there, watching, captivated. And the monitors, a few of them, the lines are barely moving, some of them stop completely. And I'm just standing there, standing, feeling like, I don’t know, powerless. People are dying and I’m standing there, just a kid.

There was a time when I was five. Rocking my heels on the step outside my house. Listening to my neighbor after her only child had ended his life. All I remember was the screaming.

….

Maybe I do more than I think. Maybe I don't. I often wonder if other people are worth the time. Then again, I'm usually so lonely I bother with them anyway. If you can get a person to laugh, it kind of disarms them. Then you get to see they are as fragile as you. Maybe.

I seem surer of things than I am it seems. Some people think I'm smart. It's possible but I don't see it because of all the other people out there smarter than me.

My grandmother used to press her ring finger into the base of my spine to get me to stand up straight. I was always hunched over, muddling over the idea of making a mistake. Apparently, mistakes aren't allowed. Without mistakes, how does one learn?

........

I wonder if everyone cared would that solve things? What if people sat around and wondered what the ant they just killed for ignorant household invasion thought before he was slain. Would it make a difference?

Imagine a world with no obligations, would people become entirely self absorbed?
....

Tomorrow is the first anniversary of my uncle's death.

I think about the impact he left on our lives.

It was one of pain. He was in pain, but he didn't fall gracefully when he died like his father did.
My grandfather. The nurses at the hospital were crying after he died. People he never met came to his funeral. He was an unsung hero, touching the lives of so many people. He would always say "personality is half your life." He lives by those words. He knew everyone and everyone knew him. Newspaper articles, news stories. Everybody talked to him. He was such a great influence but I feel like it was wasted on my youth.
He killed someone once. He had too. Murder isn't murder if it's war. Does that still make him a hero?

What is the measure of a man?

I'm not here to define that. I doubt anyone has the right too. Some people feel they have enough degrees to have earned the right.

......

Sometimes you meet someone who takes your mind off things for awhile. A yin to your yang. And then you learn their story. You lock eyes and a moment is shared that can't be expressed in words.

2010-01-12T09:22:00.000-08:00

Drain Bramage.

Life is a cycle of school work, sleep, and worry.

The future awaits.

2010-01-05T17:28:00.000-08:00

The power of words.

Hello sister, where is your soul today? Come take a walk with me by the riverside and we can go have a talk with Nature.

2010-01-01T05:54:00.000-08:00

There are principles that seem nearly universal.

Overweight mothers, airy in character, with big black purses that hold everything but the meaning of life.

2009-12-31T19:07:00.001-08:00

I've read all there is to be known about Anorexia and Bulimia. What has been written about overeating as an eating disorder? My father falls into that category. I cower in a different room thinking of pending heart attacks and getting nauseous at the smells and the slurping.

2009-12-29T05:15:00.000-08:00

My cat licks the Christmas tree and then looks at me like I'm the weird one.

2009-12-22T13:31:00.001-08:00

Today's not a new day, it's yesterday in a new suit.

2009-12-20T09:03:00.000-08:00

Tis the season to wonder why your mother is spending your college fund on stupid things and telling people you've never even heard of that you got accepted to college. Ya know, mumsie dearest, I won't be even going to college if you keep spending all the FREAKIN' MONEY!
*cough* *cough*
I'm good, I swear.

*mutters*

2009-12-18T20:24:00.000-08:00

I've been accepted to college. Time to do my own artistic experimentation.
Psychology is interesting. What is visually appealing?

Fractals- symmetry- repetition

2009-12-09T06:10:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Nevermind.

2009-12-08T08:08:00.000-08:00

Wandering, intrusive, meaningless

my story - dedicated to nick kelly.

2009-11-29T18:16:00.001-08:00

Help. That's what people seem to want to give you when you tell them a sad story, your sad story. But sometimes you don't want help. You simply want someone else to hear your story.

My uncle was molested in the first grade. By his principal. Skeletons in the closet.

And now he's dead.

I think everyone has a back story. They have to have one. I guess it's whether or not you're real, if you've toyed with life and it's bitten you back. Sometimes I think people haven't experienced the pain I have but maybe I'm just being selfish.

Sometimes you just want physical pain, because your emotion is long gone. Or maybe it was never there to start.

The best stories told are the true ones.

Pain. Sometimes people turn it into hatred. Hatred on others. Hatred on themselves. It all depends on strength of character. Sometimes they don't even know the pain is there, all the worse.

I have this very vivid memory. I’m 8 years old standing in the hallway of a hospital. There is a nurses station of some sort with all these life monitors. The kind with the green line that goes up and down. Sharp lines, piercing the screen. And I’m there, watching, captivated. And the monitors, a few of them, the lines are barely moving, some of them stop completely. And I'm just standing there, standing, feeling like, I dunno, powerless. People are dying and I’m standing there, just a kid.

Maybe I do more good than I think. Maybe I don't. I often wonder if other people are worth the time. Then again, I'm usually so lonely I bother with them anyway. If you can get a person to laugh, it kind of disarms them. Then you get to see they are as fragile as you. Maybe.

I seem surer of things than I am. Some people think I'm smart. It's possible but I don't see it because of all the other people out there smarter than me.

My grandmother used to press her ring finger into the base of my spine to get me to stand up straight. I was always hunched over, muddling over the idea of making a mistake. Apparently, mistakes aren't allowed. Without mistakes, how does one learn?

I sat in the corner of my graduation party, listening to my family talk about things that didn't concern me. The wine list. The work load. The mundaneness of adulthood. And I glowered at the the grim prospects of their definition of my future. I was 18, successful at unsuccess. Art school bound. Not a teacher. Or engineer. Or speech pathologist. Or veterinarian. I listened to the drone of their combined voices. Finally they addressed me, the supposed star of this disarray.
Apparently, they decided I, the one that refused to be what they wanted anyways, have a defined pattern.

Something about how all teenagers, because they know so many, hate and disrespect their parents once college starts. "You think you're so smart and know everything. You're parents are going to look like geniuses once they stop paying for you to go to college." I, the destined to be failure with goals and a dream, was apparently going to fuck it up for myself. This is after getting into college for something they didn't want me to pursue. I like the logic here.

2009-11-29T18:08:00.000-08:00

I found out recently that i have the inability to show emotion and very badly developed emotions in general, due to the neglect from my childhood which had left me with the attachment disorder and is why im in trauma therapy.

2009-11-25T05:30:00.000-08:00

2009-11-24T18:40:00.001-08:00

I have this very vivid memory. I’m 8 years old standing in the hallway of a hospital. There is a nurses station of some sort with all these life monitors. The kind with the green line that goes up and down. Sharp lines, piercing the screen. And I’m there, watching, captivated. And the monitors, a few of them, the lines are barely moving, some of them stop completely. And I'm just standing there, standing, feeling like, I dunno, powerless. People are dying and I’m standing there, just a kid.

2009-11-21T17:07:00.000-08:00

So much for nanowrimo. What do I have to show for my time? Three incomplete still lives and the ability to spend a lot of time doing nothing.

2009-11-15T14:46:00.000-08:00

Disinhibited reactive attachment disorder is quite a long title.

2009-11-13T09:21:00.001-08:00

affect versus effect.

This is my hate anthem. Hear my roar.

2009-11-08T17:05:00.000-08:00

It's about obsessing over the definition of beauty.
It's about worshiping what we can never be. Hollywood.
It's about brand names, spending money to feel validated.
It's about what you have, not the company you keep.
It's about being a hypocrite, wanting to stay ignorant, to hide from accountability.
It's about the white picket fence, the 2.3 children, the tire swing in the backyard.
It's called the American Dream because you have to be asleep to believe it.

It's about losing who you are to be someone else.
It's about not knowing who you are.
It's about needing others to feign self confidence.
It's about money.

2009-11-04T11:07:00.002-08:00

b.s
m.s
ph.d

bull shit
more shit
pile it high and deep

a day late and a dollar shirt. nanowrimo has begun. things to do in support.

2009-11-02T06:04:00.000-08:00

senior year/ my future ahead of me and a book to try and write in a month. crap. well here I am, trying ot write a book and get my art done. if i do this, i am my own here. devoid of proper grammer and capitialization.
and now, the story begins.

It's been six years now.
I have a aqua sweater. it looks good against the wood paneling in my basement. I'd rather sit against the wall than the chair.
The world has ended in a sense, at least the old world. The new community has formed. All of us, the anarchists and the dreaemrs, we have united. We formed a new place, trying to get rid of the things in us that destroyed the world.
we are the surviiors.
we are the ones destined to make the world what it was b3efgore we came
I am in the aritsts pueblo.
the mechanics base is 6 miles away.
We are all doing what we do best, our talent. and we fix the world in the process.
I do art, like I said. and I'm a medic, and a healer.
It's a lot to do.
I wouldn't change it for anything.
So you want to know how we operate, what we do. Well, it goes something like this.
there is no religion, you can marry who you want, and we all all communist. I know it's a lot to wrap your head around. Sorry. Even i have a hard time here and there. So, we all live together. and we go around with these random mystical powers that people have. you know what, let me stop myself. this is too confusing for even me right now. i had a late night.
oh, pardon me, i forgot to introduce myself. i'm Mia. The art freak. I live in a huge house with 13 other people.
It;s pretty amazing. Life is'nt perfect here. This morning I managed to dump a bag of my favorite trail mix all over the floor. Karma sucks. People were cool about it though. If I were a kid, I would have gotten called a klutz or something.
I had a weird family. My grandmother would ram her ring finger in the base of my spine to get me to stand up straight.
But anyways, that was the past I can;t change. It did leave me seclusive and bitter. The past effects us in ways we might not realize. I try to be self aware. Well, I;m here in the artists house, with the yoga and tranquility and hippies and musicians. We have a lot of pets. Lizards and dogs and such. I know I sound like I'm a pit head. i'm not. I'm just okay with life right now. People don;t hurt me here and it's something I'm not used to yet.
I sound so emo right now. I guess it;s me healing. I hope its me healing. it;s gotta be the worst thing in toe world to be nowhere, to just simply exist. yeck.
Well, here I am, Mia the girl who;s not as confident as she seems. Not that doesn;t men I;m a fake. i don;t think itdoes. i think it just makes me human.

so there;s this guy i like. i don;t know if he even sees me. i'm so screwed up from past relationships i don;t know how to get his attention. His name is Josh, he lives in the mechanics base. he wakes up and thorws clothes on. I admire that, I wish I could be that carefree. Girls care a lot about how they look so boys will notice them, but boys don;t seem to care at all about how they look sometimes. So why do the girls try so hard?
I don't know where I'm getting at with all this. I just think up random things. DId you ever notice that from July to November it spell out Jason? Or did you ever stop and wonder where homeless people get the cardboard and sharpies for their signs. and if they are outside so much, how come the signs stay in so good of condition.
I complain too much to. Complain to Josh. Everytime I see people i like I complian. I don;t get it. Saw him earlier, walking around, enjoying the air, I like that about him. He doesn't survive, he lives.
I think he's smart. He doesn't. he thinks I'm smart, I don't think i am.
Sometimes I;m lonely after the day ends. When I'm in my room listening to people laughing downstairs.They wouldn;t care if I joined them but something is hold me back.