cowboy67
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2004 19 October :: 9.49pm
i expect 3 people to find this amusing
5 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 18 October :: 3.30pm
yours, mine, and ours
i do not understand this phrase: "my people." it is used commonly by folks in saying, "the many hardships my people had to go through," or "my people do not get along with _____ [insert name of another "people"], and they never will."
"my people."
huh? you own human beings? they're yours? how is this? you come from the same gene pool, geographic location, or ideology, and therefore, you share something? you're a "people"? a group? isn't there a bigger picture here?
if i say, "my people," it will mean all of humanity.
5 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 18 October :: 12.05pm
12 days
alright kids, we need to organize some kind of halloween party on the 29th or 30th. i say we all meet up at MSU - it's the one place where more than 1 of us journalettes attends. plus, it's right in the middle relative to where the rest of us are.
so yeah. are there any plans in motion? i really want to see danielle as james madison. perhaps lorenzo, nicola, and craignos can be the three musketeers. `80s style? amy and steph can be felicity characters.
we have to do something!
and if anyone wants to make halloween cupcakes, i'll eat them.
7 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 18 October :: 3.06am
inside her skin
it had something to do with
lights flickering
inside an empty bath tub or
hanging off a clothesline
she threw a cup of tea at me
and inside that meta for
life
began where?
i blinked backwards, to find out
how it is that she can sleep, searching
for coins in the sidewalk cracks --
and sometimes -- skin cracks
"did you find what you were looking for?"
and do you mean my wife?
i left her at the corner of love and hate
waiting for a ride and
making change for a dollar
it had something to do with that, i think
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 17 October :: 2.37am
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
"touch is an end in itself. it is a primary form of communication, a silent voice that avoids the pitfall of words while expressing the feelings of the moment. it bridges the physical separateness from which no human being is spared, literally establishing a sense of solidarity between two individuals."
(masters & johnson, 1976)
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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Rina
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2004 16 October :: 11.11am
:: Mood: tired
:: Music: chevelle
pre cal cul us. um. gee im a tree?
siiigh.
chem is try.
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 13 October :: 7.18pm
no, don't look away.
if you don't stare, i won't feel right.
the end is here
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Rina
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2004 12 October :: 9.23pm
:: Mood: hopeful
meep.
new layout!!!!! you know that you love it.
because, hey, best movie ever. :)
ana and i = masterminds. really.
4 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 12 October :: 3.55pm
your life is yours
okay, let me get this straight. or crooked. or whatever way i'm going to get this.
we hate what we are.
we hate who we are.
we want to be anyone else but us.
we hate everyone else because they're not like us.
that's how it works, correct?
have you ever wondered why we pride ourselves and our children on innate differences between us and them? why is it black vs. white, woman vs. man, jew vs. gentile, etc.? we're fixated on our differences, as minute and meaningless as they are. there's so much energy channeled into proving that we are better than everyone else based on things we have absolutely no control over, while bitching and moaning about everything we do have control over, yet never taking any action to improve these conditions. you suck because you're not from the same country as me. you suck because you're a different race. you suck because your father sucked. i suck because you can dance better than me. i suck because you're nicer than me. i suck because i'm not like you.
so...
you're not who you want to be, eh? well, who is it that you do want to be? why? will you ever be that person? no. will you ever be happy by wanting to be that person? no. is there a way to get around this? yes.
there is a way for you to be everything you ever wanted to be.
how do i do it?! i'm a lame, piece-of-shit excuse for a human being, laurence! i suck! no one likes me, and no one should like me, because i'm a terrible person! and i'm scared of everything! i don't want to get close to anyone because that makes me weak! i suck! but i'm better than everyone else because no one understands me!
timmy, please, calm down. you've just described every human being alive.
well, i'll be jiggered.
yes, i know timmy, it's a rather hard concept to understand at first -- but don't be fooled, every person alive is weak, afraid, and wants someone to take care of them.
but what about steve, the football captain? he's so cool! everyone loves him!
steve has herpes.
oh. yeah, but, i suck! how could anyone possibly ever like me, let alone love me?!
timmy, that's the beauty of humanity. no matter what your age, your sex, your weight, your height, your IQ, your skin color, your beliefs (or lack thereof), your culture, your strengths, your weaknesses, your talents, your faults, your personality, your shoe size, your ass size, or your nose size, you are capable of giving and receiving love.
ha! you don't know nothin'! i've never been loved my whole life! everyone puts shit on me and takes advantage of me! nobody's ever loved me and nobody ever will!
do you love yourself?
hah. what's to love? i'm worthless to the world and to myself. i should kill myself.
so why haven't you, yet? is there hope inside you somewhere that maybe all of this emotional subjective bullshit talk about that stupid 4-letter word has some truth to it?
what?
did you ever consider the fact that it's no one's responsibility to make you feel anything?
what are you talking about?! other peoples' actions make you happy or sad or angry, come on. it's always someone else that makes you feel something!
why are you getting upset?
ugh, because you're such an asshole! cramming all your pansy opinions down my throat! god, can't you just leave me alone! i'm a bitch and i like it, okay! i've had enough of this self-help crap! i'm outta here!
listen, children-who-call-themselves-adults, here's the deal:
1. i hate myself, you hate yourself. we have something in common already.
2. i want love, you want love. ah ha! something else in common.
3. no one else in the world will ever make you who you are or make you feel how you feel. no one. ever. you're alone.
you are all by yourself in that body. yeah, just you. and you'll always be that way. you're stuck forever in that body, with that brain, with those hormones, with or without those talents, with every insecurity, with every memory, with every experience, with every attitude, with every pain, with every joy, with every single thing that has ever been inside of you or outside of you. you are you. you make choices. you act. you speak. you control how you react. you make yourself beautiful, or you make yourself ugly. you make yourself what you want. you are your own responsibility, no one else's.
get it straight, or crooked, or however you can. just get it already.
5 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 6 October :: 10.50pm
condensed cognition
i'll keep saying it. i'll keep telling people to love themselves and to love the people around them. i'll try to show people that it works. i won't stop. but that's all i can do.
12 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 5 October :: 5.59pm
to one of the best women i know
happy birthday, breezy!
7 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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Rina
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2004 4 October :: 4.03pm
bitching amounts of homework.
its sad, really.
the end is here
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alastar
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2004 3 October :: 2.31am
::Passing by Grey Street::
The night air is cold as I walk down the sidewalk away from her house. A street lamp flickers on and off, killing my shadow then giving birth to it over and over again as I pass. The black pavement is wet with the rain that pours steadily onto my shoulders. I turn right at the corner. I know I shouldn’t, not again, but at this point I cannot stop myself.
There are no lights on this street, only the reflection of the moon in the puddles on the ground. I pull my coat tighter around myself as I feel wind pass along the back of my neck. The sidewalk is now cracked and slightly elevated from the tree roots underneath, and pieces of cement are missing and broken into bits along it. The next corner comes and I take another right.
Most of the windows of the houses that line this street are darkened and few lights remain lit. Leaves are scattered lightly over the grass, and they color the ground yellow, orange, red and brown. The rains fury begins to die down as I turn right yet again. I know this is wrong, I shouldn’t be here, but I’m not in control.
The moon is brighter now that the clouds have thinned, and the rainwater glows on the glistening ground. A puddle lay in front of me and as I come nearer to it I slow down, stopping just before my shoes enter its wetness. I see my reflection inside. With dark hair, dark eyes and midnight illusions on my side I appear a monster within this liquid mirror. I stare deeply into my eyes and ask myself why I am doing this again. My answer comes as a kick in the face and I continue walking. The metal sign on the corner ahead reads Grey Street. Not disturbing my habits, I follow my set pattern turning right for the last time.
I see it in the distance and it grows steadily closer as I continue to walk. The rain has now ceased, and is only here in memory, within the puddles on the ground. The streams running along the side of the street carry leaves into the gutter. I can hear the sound, like a waterfall, of the water running into the sewers below the street. Before I know it I’m standing, again, on the sidewalk in front of her house.
Her light is off now. Every light is off. Her car sits still, covered with leaves and tiny drops of water. For the third time tonight I stare into her window. The house is draped in darkness by the shadow of a tree that stands between it and the moon. The word ‘goodnight’, slips past my lips and into the frozen night air. My nightly ritual is now complete.
Everynight I must make sure she is asleep, before I myself am able to. If her car is gone then I spend the night so restless, returning every hour until it has entered the driveway.
Countless conversations have been played out inside my head, what she would say if I were to knock on her door. Sometimes she would be happy to see me, I would be asked to come in. Under different circumstances she would fear the words I said as I stood before her soaking wet, looking as a madman, and close the door. I would hear the lock click into place and loud footsteps running from window to window, and finally the backdoor. She would lock them all. But I know I could never be that bold as to actually make myself known. I am a stranger, a shadow on the lawn.
3 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 28 September :: 10.33pm
it's the air
"so when i travel to different places, i can experience those people, but what really gets me is the air. there's something different about the air everywhere you go."
absence may make the heart grow fonder, but it makes the mind grow crazy.
2 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 28 September :: 4.50pm
while talking about reaching orgasm:
"if you're laying there thinking, 'how am i breathing?' chances are, you should be thinking about something else."
- my human sexuality professor
16 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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alastar
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2004 24 September :: 4.23pm
Corvette
With all these thoughts in my head
I think I'm slowly maddening
Replaying everything you've ever said
Not paying attention to whats happening
I can't let go of all of this pain
It's the only thing I've got left of you
Though its slowly driving me insane
It's the only thing I've got left to do
To keep you from slipping away
2003 Corvette
This wound is so old but feels so fresh
As I rip it open one more time
Thoughts of you rise within the flesh
And a picture is brought to my mind
The pain is lighter, since time has passed
Though I can still feel it in my way
The picture is faded but comes back fast
Behind my eyes where it will stay
With the memories they will forever last
the end is here
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Rina
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2004 22 September :: 9.25pm
:: Mood: give me an "OMG WTF?"
:: Music: american idiot - green day
subliminal mind fuck america
long long long long long time.
happy autumn equinox. or as some call it, Mabon. so happy mabon to those of you who call it that.
man, yesterday was free cone day at DQ. and i missed out. big sad face.
might be going to gotham hall saturday. maybe x-fest, but probably not. my mother wants "parental supervision."
god help me.
teachers heart homework.
i heart boys.
thats why school is getting harder.
everyday before lunch me and jenna wait for ana. and she throws apple stems at me. silly ana.
i want to bombard jenna when she works and make it difficult to seat me at a table.
fun times.
2 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 22 September :: 11.02am
you don't have to be a female to be a feminist
tears for fears - woman in chains
you better love loving
and you better behave
woman in chains
calls her man the Great White Hope
says she's fine, she'll always cope
it's a world gone crazy
keeps woman in chains
trades her soul as skin and bone
sells the only thing she owns
woman in chains
men of stone
well, i feel deep in your heart
there are wounds time can't heal
and i feel somebody
somewhere
is trying to breathe
well, you know what i mean
it's a world gone crazy
keeps woman in chains
it's under my skin
but out of my hands
i'll tear it apart
but i won't understand
i will not accept the greatness of man
it's a world gone crazy
keeps woman in chains
so free her
4 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 21 September :: 5.52pm
as reported by alexandra zavis in the AP:
In Monday's video, al-Zarqawi announced that Tawhid and Jihad was taking revenge for female Iraqi prisoners and called Bush "a dog."
The U.S. military says women are not held at either facility but has acknowledged it is holding two female "security prisoners" elsewhere. They are Dr. Rihab Rashid Taha, a scientist who became known as "Dr. Germ" for helping Iraq make weapons out of anthrax, and Huda Salih Mahdi Ammash, a biotech researcher known as "Mrs. Anthrax."
dr. germ and mrs. anthrax?
tell me we're talking about a real-life war and not marvel comics.
4 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2004 18 September :: 10.48pm
don't give up your lover tonight.
6 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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