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This Is My True Freedom

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cowboy67

:: 2005 13 February :: 10.41pm

this charming man



"I do maintain that if your hair is wrong, your entire life is wrong, and you could never possibly have a serious job." - Morrissey

2 day[s] remain | the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 8 February :: 11.30pm

can anyone within 60 miles cut thick, wavy hair? like... mine? i need a haircut and i'm through with borics.

3 day[s] remain | the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 7 February :: 1.50pm

what you see is human.


rina

:: 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 day[s] remain | the end is here


rina

:: 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 day[s] remain | the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 1 February :: 4.21pm

truth is beauty. whoever coined the phrase, "the ugly truth," was, most certainly, a liar.

2 day[s] remain | the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 31 January :: 12.02am

i'm starting to taste this phenomenon called "life." just a drop on my tongue, but it's amazing.


cowboy67

:: 2005 30 January :: 12.10am

and now my heart is full
roses don't have to be red
violets could be brown
not much matters to me
as long as you're around

happy 6 months, lovely ;-)

2 day[s] remain | the end is here


rina

:: 2005 27 January :: 11.40pm
:: Mood: in that writing mood

shoebox
i could tell by your face that it was different this time around.

i knew you'd be taking back that promise that i hid away in my shoebox full of knick knacks.
that shoebox covered with pictures and words and a lot of amazing memories. that held the little oath safe between my shell necklace and the small elephant figurine you always made fun of.

the one that said we'd go to california one day, laying on the beach for hours on end, letting the sun melt the time together.
i would walk in my thin flip flops to you, the sand whooshing over my feet as i padded through with my two ice creams.
and i would make a mess of myself eating that ice cream cone, and you would say i was silly and brush the hair from my eyes.

but i guess i knew that it would have to go.
you're always somewhere else. sometime else.
because its so hard
oh, its so hard
to be in love with a ghost.

1 day[s] remain | the end is here


alastar

:: 2005 26 January :: 10.46pm
:: Music: Brand New - I will play my game beneath the spin light

Calm and Collected

Sharp, shiny and metallic
This silence becomes so thick
So perfectly smooth and slick
You can’t hear the seconds tick
And you just want out of this

the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 25 January :: 7.18pm

"and there pour forth jejune words and useless empty phrases."

anthony trollope would love online journals.


cowboy67

:: 2005 25 January :: 6.34pm

it seems like there are certain classes that get my mind racing, and anthropology is definitely one of them. there is so much information, so many things we want to prove and understand. and i keep thinking that maybe there's an answer... or maybe it's just that we assume there's an answer, even if there is no answer to anything. i would love for everything to be a science and to explain everything else and numbers making sense and black and white creating gray but only 1 shade of it so that we can understand, but there are too many things going on at once to understand. we have not existed long enough nor will anyone exist long enough to ever fully understand anything, if it is even possible to do so. where did the universe come from? we are stuffed with mathematical formulas and equal signs, books that have fronts and backs, chapters and page numbers, beginnings and ends. in our minds, there always has to be a start and a finish. we do not comprehend infinity. so when and where and how did the universe start? the UNIVERSE. not just our planet, but all of the trillions of planets, stars, moons, etc. inside this galaxy and every other galaxy in the whole huge universe. what are we? what do we mean? what is our value? what's our connection to other worlds in the whole scheme of things? what if we don't have one? what if we truly are meaningless and random, just one of trillions of other planets filled with animals and plantlife, with humans who suffer and hate and love and fear? how can we wake up every day and do this, whatever it is that we're doing? what is it? what is everything? what is nothing? i don't know if we glued all of our brains together if we could have the brain power to figure it out.

nothing. how can there be such a thing? how can a word exist for something that isn't anything? blackness is not nothing, it's still something. we talk about vacuums in outer space. what is a vacuum? the absence of matter? how can that be? one of science's laws is that matter can neither be destroyed nor created. if matter cannot be destroyed, "nothing" cannot exist. is there an opposite for everything that does exist? if there is no "nothing," can there be "everything"? what do we mean by the word "exist"? what does it mean to be? to see something, to touch something... to smell it... that means something exists? mere perception is supposed to be the equivalent to existence? what is existence? to be "alive"? does a rock exist? anger is an emotion.... we've all experienced it.... so does it exist? love, jealousy, sadness... they live inside our heads. so does everything that "exists" only exist isolated in the mind?

it's all we are. my God... we are only brains! we are absolutely nothing else. bodies are just machines. everything you perceive is produced inside your brain! how do you know what you're looking at is really there? because other people see it? how do other people see what you see? there's a connection between eyes and the brain, and the eyes sense light and color, and those sensations are converted into electrical pulses that can travel along the nerves inside the brain, which produces a picture inside your mind. "mind" is a concept, a construct. we have some collective consciousness of things that are going on, we "think," we "talk" inside our minds without having to speak outloud. without learning a language, would that be possible? there is no spot in the brain that we can label as "the mind." the whole thing is involved in our awareness of ourselves and our environment and all of the pretty little things we discuss and eat and touch and stare at. but our minds are only aware of our selves to a point. our brain is only partially aware of itself. i can think and understand that i have a brain, but i am unable to really comprehend that it's this gray sponge that's causing me to type all of this nonsense that somehow has meaning! i can't understand my own brain, i speak as if i am one and the brain is another, when in fact we are one in the same. i'm not aware of all of the gazillions of processes going on in my brain right now in order to complete this task - motor skills for my fingers to hit the right keys on this keyboard, visual processes going on every nanosecond... the nerve endings in my flesh and muscles are sending messages to my brain and telling it that this table is hard as my arms rests on it. but i have no awareness of it. i don't control these things... i don't control the beating of my heart, the inflating of my lungs, the white blood cells that are attacking bacteria in a paper cut on my finger, i have no clue about any of these things. all of these things, these are miracles. how can people not be satisfied with this? we are the most amazing things ever... organisms, things that are alive! we're alive! we take it for granted, we take everything for granted. things that are here must have always been here. that's how we think. this is fascinating.

the end is here


alastar

:: 2005 23 January :: 9.15pm

Just tear this flesh off my bones
Because this skin is no protection
It gives no cover from the cold
It brings no safety from infection

the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 23 January :: 1.55am

peace is the way


rina

:: 2005 22 January :: 12.01am
:: Mood: sleepy
:: Music: run - snow patrol

such sweet symphony
so, its been a while.

i am really looking forward to doing some major art this weekend, i cant wait. and i feel like such a nerd for being excited about painting, but i guess thats just how i am.

i want to do a portrait of one of my friends. it would be like the ultimate gift.

i think so, at least.

i dont know whats going on with me this week, but ive been procrastinating out the ass.

i really hope i can be better friends with lauren and mark, they seem incredibly awesome. and heather is so hilarious, i love her.

ive noticed that ive been comparing myself with other, which is so awful, because i hate doing that.

ugh, this is such a worthless entry, but its midnight, who gives a damn?

the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 18 January :: 4.34pm

if someone offered you a chance to be fearless... do you think you would even take it?


rina

:: 2005 14 January :: 9.47pm
:: Mood: sick
:: Music: deja entendu is on repeat

i thought i was safe from your gaze
so today i felt like absolute fuck. i woke up at 2 in the morning and i felt like screaming bloody murder. instead, i snuck into my mom's bathroom and took some aleve and tried to go back to bed.

my alarm clock, my R E A L L Y obnoxious alarm clock, failed to wake me up, and my mom came in about three times.

and then i said i wasnt going to school and that i would call her when i did finally wake up. she told me to feel better. i miraculously fell asleep.

and then i woke up at 10.00 but could not move. it felt like someone was playing twister with my insides, and after an hour, i had to force myself to get up and eat breakfast before i fainted or vomited.

i vomited anyways after breakfast, wasnt that great.

and then i just layed in different parts of my house, because the thought of moving somewhere else made me want to cry, and i only did it when the place i was in became too hot.

i turned on the tv, and didnt pay much attention, but at least it was distracting.

i took more medication throughout the day and started feeling a little better around 3.30, which is when i remembered that nahs inductions were tonight.

and i did NOT want to miss that.

so i started getting ready and by 4.20, when my mom came home to take me to the highschool for the inductions, i had accomplished to put on clothes, brush my hair, and put very little make up on.

so, now i'm a member of nahs. and im happier than i should be about it. but come on. when i came up to accept my certificate, ms roeder said to ms thimler "she is a very good artist" and ms thimler says "is she?" and ms roeder replies "yes."

that made me feel good.

the gallery and reception afterwards was great.

and i saw some of james' work. that kid is amazing. ahaha, but his hair is ridiculous. he congratulated me though, as i walked into the gallery.

i managed to plaster a smile on my face, even though i felt like hurling.

i came home and wanted to pass out, but refrained, and instead talked to chrissie online.

that girl is freaking incredible. i mean, jesus, she is just awesome. i burst out laughing quite a few times during our conversation. and im already feeling much better.

so tomorrow i am going to teach her math, and then we're going to eat ice cream, and win things from friday's.

i cant wait. :)

8 day[s] remain | the end is here


rina

:: 2005 13 January :: 6.45pm
:: Mood: indescribable
:: Music: spidey suite - danny elfman

crescendos and lulls
i really want to go to the phantom of the opera, and i think im going, too.

also, score, i am going to scotland and/or italy. definitely scotland though. i think over the summer, and we might go to italy over spring break, im so excited!

and my sister says the next time we're in sweden, we'll go drinking in london, because i'll be 18 by then!

i think i'll be a lot more different then i was last year. im not sure if its a good or a bad thing.

the end is here


cowboy67

:: 2005 11 January :: 3.58pm

i could probably walk in high heels better than i can speak.


rina

:: 2005 10 January :: 3.16pm
:: Music: sic transit gloria

i am such a fuck up.

the end is here

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