A temporary catatonic Madman

A temporary catatonic Madman

:: 2006 14 March :: 6.15pm

i went back to smdp on friday wiht my mum. i went because i got free lunch out of the deal. for once, i felt like my mum was proud of me, however, not for the sake of being proud but rather to prove everyone wrong about me. they knew i got bad grades and was always late, so in an adult's eyes, i was not going anywhere. my mum took liberties with the short sentance "she sold a painting". surely, it's an accomplishment, to an extend, but it was bragging. i purposely try not to brag cuz i hate it. my old math teacher is now the principal and said he has a whole wall to fill if i want to paint him something. "something religious", but even mr. lally isnt religious...and if i did do something religious, i can guarentee it would not be a happy baby jesus or symbolic suffering.

beside that though, my week was hectic as hell. just trains being late and leaving late and locking my keys in the car at a parking garage and bleeding all over my pants so that i had to leave right after my first class. but my midterm was easy and this week isnt too bad, just lots of stuff to do.

spring break is soon. im working during the weekend and during the week im supposed to go apt shopping with trixy and make cheese and peas with her, too.

Are you in a Solitary Shell?

mudpiegrl

:: 2006 12 March :: 5.24pm

Carl Jung, within his archetypal theory, posed that the self holds more importance than any other archetype. He illustrated this by several symbols originated worldwide represented the self because, when�looking at these symbols, one's eyes are drawn to the center. Read more..

1 people are in a Solitary Shell | Are you in a Solitary Shell?

mudpiegrl

:: 2006 5 March :: 11.05am

so it's blaringly clear that it's that time of the month, however, i still have not been visited by my friend. i asked my mum to go to the doctor and she said she'd make an appointment. so ill update on that in a bit.

3 people are in a Solitary Shell | Are you in a Solitary Shell?

toki	:: 2006 1 March :: 12.04am 88% on my history paper! Woooo!!!!!! That means I am now getting a 77% in history, fools. 7 freaking 7! Hopefully that'll be a B soon. Oh man oh man. I'd be okay with a C. Much better than that 56% I had earlier. Eeeps. Are you in a Solitary Shell?

toki	:: 2006 26 February :: 10.56pm crumble. cruuuumbbllle... c.r...u...m.....b...l....e.... CRASH boom Are you in a Solitary Shell?

toki

:: 2006 26 February :: 10.22pm
:: Mood: indescribable

So...you probably don't want to read this. You can probably guess what I'm going to talk about here. I don't care though.

Fuck you! Haha!

That's what I learned this weekend. It doesn't matter. You can't change people. You can mourn over broken promises of friendship, but in the end you can't make the other person see it.

That probably doesn't make any sense at all.

Of course I miss it. Of course I blame myself. I still feel like a piece of worthless shit about it. But what can I do? Accept...move on....accept...move on....

It's what we do! It's what we're designed to do. I got through a quarter of school with just a boyfriend and one friend. I can get through ten more like that.

And I still have the Tree. As corny as that sounds, no matter how lonely it gets, I can go to the Tree and feel like I'm a part of something.

In actuality, I'm just struggling to be optimistic about this situation. Pretend not to care...and I eventually won't. Right? Right!

Optimism.

I miss how things used to be.

I hate that things had to change.

I miss it.

But I can't bring it back.

So that's that!

Life goes on. Tomorrow I will take the train. I will walk down Adams to Wells. I will wait for the El. And I will go to class. And life will go on.

I'm happy that it does, though. I mean....life sucks...nothing new. But it goes on. Now, that sounds good to me at this point in time.

I'll move on and I'll never really be happy, but I might be content for atleast an hour a day. And I'll smile. And I'll laugh at bad jokes and tell bad jokes. I'll be left out and I'll leave people out. People will break my heart and I'll break people's hearts. And we'll all look back on it one day and smile.

I think I might be having a nervous breakdown.

Ok...bye... wooooooo

Are you in a Solitary Shell?

mudpiegrl

:: 2006 24 February :: 3.36pm
:: Music: q101

i miss journaling. i just ate pizzas! woo! i exercised today. i might make myself run tnt. maybe. i have to work, then am supposed to hang out with ian again, but i dont really want to. id rather just chill at the restaurant and then come home.
i saw the vhhs musical, anything goes, last night. it was better than i thought, not because of the acting, because of the show itself. although, i suppose it wouldnt have lasted if it didnt have entertainment quality. i sort of wish i could be on stage once, to hear people laugh at something i've said. or to have them caught up in a world that doesnt exist. but i'd probably abandon my rehearsals for crew. lol

im doing crew for amadeus. i asked phelan. patrice, you should, too. i worry that ill take opportunites away from the younger kids though. like, if spencer and hul had come back, we would've never had our opportunity to show ourselves. but i get ec for it for makeup, and ill probably only go three nights a week. two if they take off fridays. i miss it so much though.

i've decided on putting at least ten percent of every check in the bank for paying back my loans. more if i can. but it's going to be put in immediately. im budgeting. ish.

i never got those boots i wanted because my calves are too frickin gigantic...although, i didnt think about trying on a ten. maybe ill do that. ::shrugs:: i like them.

Are you in a Solitary Shell?

sweetyas

:: 2006 19 February :: 2.11pm

I dont like the rooming situation of next year...i hope it doesnt turn out as bad as i think it will. i dont wanna live with these ppl!!!! OMG!!!!AHHH!! i hate this girl so mcuh..so fuck her!!

Are you in a Solitary Shell?

toki

:: 2006 18 February :: 12.45am
:: Mood: exanimate

Blech
Stupid fights are just so....stupid.

Hopefully they'll stop.

I'm just exhausted. Too much of me is going in too many directions. It's really not working.

my parents haven't paid my tuition yet. Meaning I still can't sign up for classes. I hate this.

I had this crazy dream when I fell asleep at the library the other day. I think it basically sums up how I feel about everything going on right now. I wrote it in my Lil' Fat Notebook, so I'll type it up here later.

I was thinking of writing a story or making a picture out of it. Picture would be easier, but I don't know exactly how it would work....hmmm... We shall see.

This week should be easier.

Monday:

Wake up: Whenever
Leave: 1:10
Class: 3:30
Train: 5:50
Home: 6:47
See boy
Do papers

Tuesday:

Wake up: 5:30
Leave: 6:44
Library-study: 8:30
Class: 10:10
Class: 11:50- Paper due
Class: 1:20- Paper due
Train: 3:55
Home: 4:56
Work: 5:30
Home: 9:00
Study/Papers

Wednesday:

Wake up: Whenever
Train: 1:10
Class: 3:30- Paper due. 10 sources due.
Meet Jorie: 5:30
Dinner with Yassi: 7ish
Train: 9:35
Home: 11:00

Thursday:

Wake up: 5:30
Train: 6:44
Library-study: 8:30
Class: 10:10 Paper due
Class: 11:50
Class: 1:30
Train: 3:55
Home: 4:56
Work: 5:30
Home: 9:00
SLEEP.

Friday: SLEEP.

Oh! I need to request a day off to see the play! I'm working Thursday...

Maybe I can open 'til 6 on Friday. But I need to get tickets! I'll call Sandy tomorrow and see about that. I don't want it to end up like Story Theatre where we waited outside for an hour waiting for bloody tickets.

Work sucked today. You'd think that if people heard fire alarms going off, they'd evacuate the building, right?

Um, no. Apparantly finished the movie they paid a whole SIX DOLLARS on is more more important than their lives. And Oh no! Is it cold out?! Okay, when the fire consumes you, let's see who's cold. That's right.

I got to wear my cool sweater though. Everyone has to see it. It's all STRIPEY!

Stress is no fun. And now I'm sick, but I have no time to be sick! So that doesn't work. I shall will myself not to be sick. Hmmmm...

I hate how only one of my teachers puts grades up on blackboard.
I'm getting a 27%. Wooo.

Actually, it's because he has all the assignments in there and we havent turned all them in yet. So yeah. I got all A's and B's so far. With the exception of one test. 57%. Oops. I hope I did well on my paper. I felt like I was just saying the same thing over and over again, but in different words. I didn't even start it till 1am. I don't know. I need to get atleast a B in there. With extra credit, right now I'm getting a 70%. Let's see...If I get an....

A my grade will be 81%
B- 77%
C- 73%
D- 69.9%

Hoping for a B. Hoping. praying. I NEED that B. A would make me weep with joy.

Knowing me, I'll get that D. >.<

What about DePaul makes me such a failure?????!!?!?!?!
In History atleast.

Ok, well my throat is significantly swollen and my sinuses are trying to kill me, so I go to die now.

I need to stop sucking at life.

That is all.

Sniff.

Are you in a Solitary Shell?

mudpiegrl

:: 2006 14 February :: 1.50pm
:: Mood: contemplative

so...im going to do some mass typing. im sorry if you actually try to get through these...i wrote them all on the train and i want to put them in here. i wish i had a laptop so that i could just type it on the train. it would go so much faster. and in case you hadnt noticed, my internet is back up! woo! the stuff in green is going to be stuff about people on the train, stuff that isnt all that important, although it may lead so something in the white that is about me, and unless you've recently spoken to me or read my mind, probably dont know.

Train Entry One
The man in front of the other writes in red pen on a printed paper. He has a phone on his right ear. He picks his nose with his pinky. He has a striped blue and white polo on; Skipper style. He rechecks his bag; a portfolio briefcase. A greenish-brown trench coat, slightly balding, thin brown hair. Holds phone awkwardly.

"Then we'll supplement it. And we can talk then about how it...Right, sure. Right. Right. Okay. Okay! That'd be great. What uh, what uh...at your office. Oh, that's right. Okay, I'll do that for you...you don't think it makes sense...supplement...okay, yeah. Thanks. ::click::"

He's texting. Back to his stack of papers: flip, flip so delicatly. Chews nails...mmm, eating it. Needs more. Looks good, sir.

I'd rather be writing about the man across from me. "Fuck!" he said as he threw down his bag. He breathed heavily and the train began to move. He took out his Ipod and swore again and smacked it's shiny, white plastic. He turned his head to put the buds in his ears, first the right, then the left. Next, he produced a Subway sandwich. He�d flipped the seat in front of him to form a table. He spread the paper out and opened his cheese chips bad. He rigidly ate it, keeping his back straight. Yet, he was {something that isn�t a word}. He ate the chips one by one, but speedily. He finished the sandwich and squished the wrapper into a ball. He drank his Orange Crush with a straw. A preposterous motion that reminds me of eating pizza with a fork and knife. Eventually came a candy bar, which he ate rigidly, too, however, he stared out the window. Precisely the moment he finished, he produced a small, unidentifiable object. He opened a valve and blew into it. Ah, a neck pillow. He still has not removed his awful turtle shell-framed sunglasses. Ha, he relaxes. His shoes are off, he lounges with his feet on the opposing seat. He reads the Wall Street Journal. Khaki pants, white button-down shirt, brown belt, black socks, but brown shoes�not a complete travesty; he doesn�t have brown golfer socks.

Train Entry Two
Seven stops �til mine. I've just finished an entertaining short story from a book written in �67 of contemporary stories. However, it was written sometime between 1900-�20. I caught this kid kiddy corner to me glancing at me. Understandably, of course, cuz I must say, my eys have been taking glances at him as well. He sips his jamba juice and is semi-reading a magazine with a title, from what I can read, can only be inferred as Giant Robots. He�s not spectacularly interesting, but that�s part of the allure, I suppose. The lady in front of him is about thirty-two and her name is Jennifer. She has a pleasantly fake demeanor. Above them is a silent, but interesting girl who appears to be drawing. At first, I was confused as to her gender, but then she was looking out the window. Oh, my writing is atrocious. I came up with an idea. Perhaps one that would be best noted in film form, but a challenge to write; I think I�ll try it. I constantly observe people anyway, like the way the older couple in front of me match in burgundy sweaters or the sociology and chemistry student who has been talking to the kid across the aisle about her classes. He responded with a slight Russian accent. Above is a man who was yelling on the phone in Spanish, although I was confused as to where it came from at first. How simply interesting everyone else is and how dully boring I am. I make observations between my friends and I, but they are relationships about which I couldn�t possibly write about; they have no story to which I could find the beginning and the end.

So my idea is to write of the train and convos I hear. Then, I�ll invent small stories, Shelock Holmes style. Perhaps that�s what Sir Arthur Conan O�Doyle began doing. Questioning whether the old couple discussed wearing burgundy today. Or if the woman intends her pleasant bullshit. It may be that the boy that just exited the train, the boy who has left my life forever, was just as interesting in my as I had been in him and his magazine.
He�s putting eye drops in her eye. I wonder if she turns up his hearing aid.
Strange. A Barbie Jeep in a bike rack. A funny picture it is to see a business man dressed for work riding on the sidewalk and parking his daughter�s Jeep there. Perhaps an example of never growing up�a good ad for Disneyworld, eh? You can be an adult and do adult things, but don�t forget to have as much fun as a kid on the way there.
The man is holding plastic on his nose. It looks like a bib from Bob Chin�s. Oh, an ice pack. A sinus infection?
Ah, my stop.

Train Entry Three
I picked up my stuff instead of sleeping, but no one is too terribly interesting that I have to write about them. The girl is reading Intro to Information Technology. She has an orange highlighter. My mind is pretty blank, actually. I was just thinking how, despite how fundamental the idea is, Patrice is like a dog that licks your face and sits beside you when you cry. That�s why people easily return to her after their spurt of deciding someone self is more interesting for a time. I do pity her for that, because it�s quite the painful commodity to have: ditched and regained after the other has lost interest. For once, I notice it in myself and add it to the list, rather than exclude myself. So I feel particularly horrible to be a burden and such, because I know it�s not the last time, but I feel bashfully grateful for her care. I don�t consider myself �wounded� in the least from Justin, but rather �off-track�. I've strayed and she�s a kind, familiar map that�s always in my pocket and I know so, but sometimes I grow immune to the presence. That�s something that really goes for the lot of my friends: the immunity, and so, I apologize. Kristen�s my warning sign, a reflector-coated neon-coated roadblock updater. I also owe her an apology for not listening to her warnings because she�s consistently right. I know I should feel lost, because I am, but at the same time, I�m remotely comfortable with the position.
As if the constant, intangible debt and guilt is not enough, I am in monetary debt of either party as well. I have a job, so money will come soon, but there are things I want. I know stress will soon bear down on me too much and I will need protective services in my vulnerability, although I will refuse to admit it. One stop. G�day.

Train Entry Four
I know I should do my chem. But I've though so much since 11:03AM (it�s 11:37). I was drawing with my dry erase marker and I organized my binder. I have a paper due Thursday. (�Tickets, please!� that reminds me-I got a ticket in front of Patrice�; that�s $75 on top of the $105.50 I owe for skipped tolls. Way to go, Jorie.) The girl behind me is asking her friend questions that intrigue me as to what her response could be. She told her she was being a hypocrite and things I related to my own stupidity with Justin; how could I be so dumb for so long? I suppose it�s all about the picture you�re standing so close to that you see a small portion that�s so beautiful, you won�t let your friends pull you back to see how hideous the entire thing is. Your perception is warped when you�re that close.

�I think you�re na�ve. I think you don�t know. No-that james lies.�

Wow, that�s honesty. Oh, why did I start thinking? Yes. I saw justin�s mum. She didn�t say hi or anything when I smiled at her. I wonder if she knows. I know and accept everything that happened and I sort of feel like I�m hiding from it. Seeing her is like synchronicity. That Carl Jung is a silly bitch.
Patrice gave me a valentine. I want to make her something. Maybe a secret admirer thing, lol.
Know what drives me nuts? Donut. DONUT?! HOW PRIMITIVELY LAZY!!! THE WORD IS DOUGHNUT! In fourth grade, we had to correct ssentances for spelling and grammar everyday. That was one of those words! What is a nut? A pit; a center of a fruit. A doughnut is a ring of dough, missing its nut. That�s logical, although more so would be nutless dough, but then there�s evolution of the word. Donut, on the other hand- DO?! Do can be pronounced dū, in which case, it�s a verb. Dō can be a musical tool for tuning one�s voice, however, DO-NUT makes no logical sense! I've seen it twice today and it�s lazy! T hat�s like writing BAL-A on your building because it�s shorter. Or the online slang used on a building. And don�t get me wrong, I�m all for being different, so whomever was first to say, �Hey, I�m not going to label my joint by what I sell, but make it recognizable by the spelling,� the way corporationsdo with colour and placement, but donut is now socially acceptable to the point where I had an argument with someone who insisted that donut was correct.

�What�s up, my home skillets? &hearts Chica 2/10/06�

Sorry, I know it was a pointless rant but it is a reflection of how easily society is swayed, my opinions of which are persuaded by V for Vendetta as well as sociology class.
Gosh, I've written a lot. I sort of miss Ian and Zak. I�m afraid to see them because of Justin�s influence on them. He�s very persuasive.
On the other hand, most everyone seems to like me at Yardhouse. However, none of which are probably friend quality, as far as I can tell. Amanda�s going to apply, so that�ll be cool.
I've been hanging out with Trix. Oh, I love Patrice! I just hope she doesn�t get annoyed or anything. I want to hang out with Kristen, too, but she�s crew and I have work and school, so there�s NEVER time. I�m done-Golf, that�s the line into the knowledgeable. Glenview. I�m glad I don�t have to work today.

Are you in a Solitary Shell?