rina
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2005 20 March :: 12.11am
:: Mood: apathetic
:: Music: action adventure - andrew bird
failure by design
you know this war on humanity thats going on?
i finally figured out what the fuck it is.
evolution.
its survival of the fittest.
good luck, rest of the planet.
2 whispered |
sweet words
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rina
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2005 19 February :: 12.23am
:: Music: untouchable face - ani difranco
who am i, somebody tell me that much
writers block is so ridiculous.
i know exactly what should happen next in finding new york, but.. BLAH.
i cant wait to finish off my b&w film from the nikon. i want to develop them like mad.
i should just bring it to school and take random pictures of people.
i've been having many odd dreams as of late. on consisted of my nine year old brother crashing a car, while i was in it as well as my sister, and when the police came he started laughing. and saying it was just like need for speed. or burnout III takedown.
i was panicking, and they were excited.
odd, yes? yes.
sweet words
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rina
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2005 6 February :: 5.17pm
:: Mood: woo.
:: Music: where is my mind - the pixies
finding new york II
of course he wasnt from california. he was from new york. from brooklyn. he knew the taste of real pizza, and could accurately depict the big apple and its millions of inhabitants on a routine monday morning.
and it figured that after meeting this kid, brian, and talking for maybe 15 minutes, that my cellphone would ring with its what's my age again ringtone.
i sighed. hold on a minute, i said, and grabbed my nokia from my back pocket. brian just nodded.
hello? i asked the phone.
"alice, we're coming to pick you up, your brother made reservations for a new restaurant," replies the voice.
why do i have to go?
"because its a family thing," my mother says.
whatever. i'll be waiting, i reply.
i pushed the end button on my phone and shoved it back into my jeans. brian looked at me with his blue, blue, pale sky blue eyes.
"leaving?" he asked quietly.
yeah, i said. i guess we have some reservations at this new restaurant somewhere. happen to know about it?
"nah," he said. "but i have to leave for work soon, anyways."
oh. well, i guess i'll see you around?
"yeah," he said in that same quiet tone.
i saw my mother's green jeep wrangler start to pull up. i remember seeing it in the parking lot when i came out of the airport, and asking her what the hell she was thinking. first, she said not to use that language, and then said that it was the "thing" to have jeeps in california. i realized later that it was so not the thing to have. everyone had convertibles here, and i could understand that. despite the dumb beaches, california had really nice weather.
i didnt want to go to another restaurant. the one last night was awful, the waiters couldn't take a joke. my mother said in the car afterwards that asking if the opera singer was a dying cat wasnt funny, and that i shouldnt try to taunt the host. she was mistaken though, because the timing was perfect for it. it was hilarious; some of my best work.
i realized i had around two minutes.
do you have a computer? i asked brian.
"yeah," he said.
fantastic. do you have a pen?
brian wore a confused look on his face as he reached in his jean pockets and dug out a black pen.
give me your hand, i said urgently.
the look deepened as he stuck out his right hand.
i grabbed it and scribbled my screen name on it. if he didnt have aol, i was going to cry. he had to have aol.
he smiled at the word on his palm and said, as my mother honked the horn in the parking lot, "hope you manage to find your way out of the rabbit hole."
i half-heartedly rolled my eyes.
i've had it since i was twelve, i said.
he just smiled. my mother honked the horn again. "don't be late," he said.
yeah, yeah, its an important date, i got it, i said as i walked towards the parking lot.
2 whispered |
sweet words
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rina
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2005 1 February :: 7.13pm
:: Music: shh - frou frou
finding new york
i was at that theatre where all the highschoolers went to hang out and look cool at night. it was annoyingly boring, listening to the gossip of a group of girls scattered around in short skirts and tanks with flip flops. i looked down at my own feet, stared at my right converse shoe covered with writing and little drawings from my real friends back home.
because i wasnt home. this theatre was foreign to me. i was out of place; i knew it, and they were obviously too dense to notice it. the girls around me, i mean. you could hit them with a brick and they probably wouldnt respond. there was nothing i could do about it though, mom had insisted i get a social life.
i had a social life, it just wasnt here. i wanted to be back in seattle, not here in california. i don't even like the beach. its wet and hot and you get sand in all the wrong place. what a hassle.
i glanced toward said beach, it was right by the theatre. it had wooden steps flooded with sand winding its way to the cement pathway that led to the parking lot.
and thats when i saw him. he was standing apart from the little groups, leaning over a rail that lined the walkway and faced the parking lot. he had a black t-shirt on, a band name i didnt recognize scribbled across the front. he had faded-looking jeans on, and converses, i noticed.
he had converses. not sandals or flip flops or wet shoes or rocket dogs or whatever. converses.
it was simple relief, that not all of the people here had never heard of the sex pistols or ridden the subway. i mean jeez. this is the first person i had seen who looked remotely like me. clothes-wise.
because appearance-wise, he had darkish brown hair, short, with little ringlets covering his ears. he turned his head slightly and i saw really really great cheekbones.
i usually dont notice something as dumb as that, mind you. but i did. and i couldnt resist walking up to him.
i tried to be casual, but the thought of actually having a conversation that did not include fashion made me excited, so i looked like i was extremely happy to see him.
he didnt notice me coming over toward him though, and i nonchalantly leaned against the rail next to him. i glanced over at him.
hey, i said.
he looked surprised when he turned his head toward me. like he couldnt imagine anyone striking up a conversation with him. he looked me straight in the eyes, and said, "hey."
and oh man, let me pause here. his eyes. they were the exact color of the sky. exact. except they seemed lost in thought, as if i disrupted his thinking. that didnt bother me though because man! his eyes!
i didnt respond right away, so he stood up carefully and turned so he could see me face to face. sort of. he was a bit taller than me.
i held out my hand.
"i'm alice," i said after a moment.
"brian," he replied, his hand meeting mine and shaking it.
he noticed my favorite shirt, and said, "sex pistols fan?"
totally, i said. you?
"yeah."
to be continued?
3 whispered |
sweet words
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