moana
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2005 14 December :: 10.19pm
:: Music: Suede
Intensive care.
Only twice in my life have I ever said to my mother, "I will never forgive you." At the beginning of my senior year, when it was time to join MUN, to write up the research, to hand in the summer assignments, my mother said to me, "You can't do MUN anymore."
I didn't argue with her. She said that MUN was taking time away from my studies, that it was a distraction that I didn't need. I didn't argue with her. I just said to her, "I will never forgive you for this."
It hit a nerve, because I had said it once before.
Up until the seventh grade, I took French and Art as my electives at the same time. I loved art, and once upon a time, I loved French. But art was everything to me. I held onto a childhood dream of being an artist. When I was in first grade I told my teacher, "I want to be an artist." When seventh grade came around, I could no longer take two electives at the same time, and I had to make a choice.
My mother made the choice for me. I took French. But right before I gave in, I said to her, "I will never forgive you for this."
That was a long time ago, and I've grown into a different person. I love the academics, I love science and math, I love literature and history. Art was not a part of my life, art surrounded me as part of the environment. I had abandoned art as a passion. And now, here I am, doing it all over again, falling in love with it all over again, learning to be exceptional at it all over again.
I think in a parallel universe, there's a me that took art throughout her life, took art in seventh grade, eighth grade, high school and so on, and then went to college and became an engineer.
I think in a parallel universe, there's a me that found herself disoriented and confused, frustrated and angry, the bottom of the food chain after being the top of the peer group. There's a me that discovered or rediscovered a love for something that she didn't think she could ever incorporate into her life, or her plans for the future.
I think this me from the parallel universe and the me you all know have at least that much in common.
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moana
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2005 13 December :: 3.41am
I deserve to be with someone that can make me happy.
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moana
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2005 12 December :: 10.55pm
:: Music: The Breeders - Do You Love Me Now
Do you think of me like I dream of you?
I haven't slept since Friday. If I don't get some sleep tonight, the shakes will start. I don't like the shakes.
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moana
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2005 8 December :: 1.16pm
:: Music: music
When and if I finish this portrait, and when and if it turns out the way I want it to, then I will finally put my insecurity to sleep and admit that yes, I am an artist. Happy now, Rose Nose?
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moana
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2005 7 December :: 6.35pm
:: Music: The Breeders - Little Fury
round up, holler girl
If I can't love you, then I will die for you.
That's the logic of the suicides.
And no, this is not a sad entry. I'm actually quite chipper. *giggles*
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nugenta3
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2005 6 December :: 3.13pm
it seems so fickle to me to write down a list of things that you want, have someone else buy them for you and wrap them up so you can't see what they are, then act all surprised and happy when you get what you told them to buy in the first place.
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moana
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2005 5 December :: 4.57pm
:: Mood: focused happy
:: Music: Muse - Microcuts
Are we the last living souls?
There's a place on campus right behind the A building where all the trees cast shade all the time, and the marble is really cool from the air conditioning inside. There are grassy areas to your right, and the high fence of the university to your left, wrapped in vines. It's almost always breezy, the wind goes from your right to the left, so there are always leaves blowing around, making little circular dances and pretty things to look at like that. It's not always quiet, but it is at night. The area is shaded off from the glare of the spotlights that come on at six, but it's still bright enough to see the sky through the leaves. It's on this circular step thing, an entryway into the building that no one really uses. An ashtray/dustbin is there, an eyesore, to balance off the perfection. Around this area are three prominent trees, and a little fourth one a little ways off. Under each of the three big trees is a dead animal. On the sides of the trees, facing the people sitting in this spot on the steps, are three different epitaphs.
Isn't it odd how people come and go to this place by the dozens everyday, to enjoy the scenery, to have a quick cigarette, to sneak a phone call to the one they love, and they're completely oblivious to the pet cemetary?
It's easy to be at ease when you're ignorant.
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nerdalert
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2005 2 December :: 10.52am
i havent updated in here in forever, so i thought i would say hey.
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moana
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2005 2 December :: 5.53pm
:: Mood: contemplative
:: Music: Gorillaz - O Green World
This is how I pour my heart out.
I can only stretch this weary heart so thin across this bread. It's caught between the urge to help and the desire to beat. The general concensus seems to be, "I must live." Must I?
Indifference was only a distant dream when my salt-water mask seemed permanent. It governed my fate so that I rebuilt my lego plans over and over in my future head, reworking and rewriting the systems until it all crashed and burned into ashes that can only be coaxed into slight unrest if I sell my soul to a smile.
If I stick this finger far enough into the back of my throat, i can regurgitate a tear or two for drama. These droplets of would-be sadness can fool for only so long, like dead butterflies fluttering before an electric fan. When they drop as lifeless as before, it is as if they were never there, but the active face before me is at ease now that the butterflies have taken flight.
I can only stretch this weary heart so soft against this butter. It's lost between the want to feel and the need to die. The general concensus seems to be, "I must feel." Must I?
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nugenta3
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2005 28 November :: 11.44am
it's evident that any investigation into faulty pre-war intelligence is just going to be a back-and-forth game of semantics:
http://www.slate.com/id/2130884/?nav=tap3
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moana
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2005 28 November :: 9.21am
Lift our eyes, big surprise.
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moana
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2005 26 November :: 8.34pm
:: Mood: tired
:: Music: The Shins - Saint Simon
Mercy's eyes are blue.
I had my wisdom tooth pulled out and it's just now starting to settle in. EW! PAIN! *whines irrationally*
In other news! Missy Elliot is coming to perform next weekend. Everyone is totally excited, but since I'm not going to the concert, I'm going to have a picnic on the roof of the dorms, I can see the stage from there. It's not the same, but I'm sure it'll be quite the experience.
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moana
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2005 20 November :: 6.54pm
:: Music: The Beatles - Penny Lane
I'm just simple.
Music makes me happy.
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moana
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2005 19 November :: 7.25pm
:: Music: Radiohead - Bulletproof
I wish I was.
It rained this morning and I missed it. Figures. I usually do miss the things I love and only hear about how they were just there after they're long dried up in the sun.
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moana
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2005 17 November :: 8.10pm
:: Music: Deftones - Breathless
About Bill Clinton...
As soon as I went into the auditorium, we took up almost an entire row (Parnika, Alia, Nido, Stacey, Khayra, Alma, myself) and settled down, only so that Stacey and Nido can point out a grave error on stage. Watch closely.
That's right. Only the "begining". Begining. Begining.
I couldn't take it. I stood up and yelled out for the head of the English depratment. "Dr. Nawn! Dr. Nawn! DR. NAWN! DR. NAWN!" The guy three rows in front of us turned around to look at me funny and I yelled, "Dude! Get Dr. Nawn to look over here!"
"Who's Dr. Nawn?!"
"The dude in the blue shirt!"
(Nido: "The professor in the blue shirt, not the dude.")
Dr. Nawn finally turns around and I wave my arms over my head shouting, "The begining! THE BEGINING! THE BEGINING!"
The predicament here: he's sitting in a position where the podium is obscuring his view of this particularly nasty banner. After some time of futile waving and gesturing I decide I have to make a run for it. My friends, all hugely embarassed by now, tried to stop me but there was no stopping Grammar-Natzi-(insert appropriate nickname) now. I rushed up to him and, still high-pitched and now in a panic as the time for Bill Clinton's arrival drew closer, I squeaked (you know I can squeak), "The begining! It says "Ten years of progress and only the begining!"
Dr. Nawn looks at the banner, turns red in the face, mutters, "Jesus," and runs at the coordinators. This guy is about 6'4", 300lbs, and he was running. I mean running.
The coordinator exchanges words with Nawn, there's some pointing in my direction, and finally, two guys get up on stage, close the curtains, and proceed to frantically cover up their stupid stupid mistake.
Genius, isn't it?
The only other highlight was during the Q&A portion when a freshmen stood up, declared that she had been denied an interview with the president of the university by his secretary, who had flatly stated that the president did not grant students interviews. She went on to explain that she had been trying to interview the president because her UNIV professor had asked the class to interview an idol. So what did ex-president Clinton think of that?
There was a lot of cheering.
And the rest isn't really all that interesting.
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