Hello.

T-11

2008-12-10T04:09:24Z

In my fear of what being forced into my old life will be like, I lash out with anger, bitterness, hostility, anxiety; I exaggerate my emotions to cope with that fear, to attempt to blindside it out of existence. And in doing so, I exacerbate the resistance I feel, the excitement, the cascade of other emotions – some nameless – which are enveloping me in these last weeks before I return to where I became who I am, where I lived for 18 years.

Fall.

2008-10-03T20:13:19Z

Eyes raised to the grey sky,
I wait for the drops to fall
to wash away the grime of loneliness
and leave clean my skin for a new day.

The biting cold is refreshing
a pain I want to feel
need to feel
to be alive, to suffer my lows
and revel in my heights.

I am a feeler in a city of escapists
Choosing to live everything
at the risk of having nothing
rather than missing those moments that make life real
to feel less, to see less, to be less.

Dear Ms. Adams

2008-05-28T23:10:13Z

Ms. Adams,

We can understand your point of view, but we are again going to reiterate, echoed by our peers, how much we completely disagree with it.

We would like to think, that after four years, you would understand that we, as seniors, are responsible enough to be able to conduct ourselves in a manner becoming of our maturity level. Teachers, also, are responsible enough, and in enough control of their classrooms, to be able to tell seniors when they are allowed to have yearbooks signed, and when they should be stowed away.

How are we expected, as graduating seniors, to make memories worthy of the time we have spent at our wonderful school, if getting our yearbooks on our last day of school is essentially saying that underclassmen are not worth remembering? There are many people who we may never see again, who will now lose the opportunity to say a final goodbye as we are all swept up in the final events on Friday. The purpose of the last two days of school is making memories, it's not instruction, it's not testing, it's finalizing what Beaverton has meant to us for four years. High school is about making memories, and we feel that privilege has, in part, been taken away from us.

Regarding our brief meeting, it felt as if you weren't willing to consider what we had to say - even if it will only benefit next year's class - you summarily dismissed us when you walked out of the main office already with the word 'no' written with your index finger. We felt we respectfully addressed you, and we believe we deserve the same in return.

Activism?

2008-05-17T22:25:58Z

In an era of grand-scale movements and larger-than-life media, it's hard to be an average citizen of the global community and still feel like you can make a difference. Not everyone has the resources or time to entrench themselves in Darfur or provide aid to any number of the other ailing areas worldwide.

As our world and understanding have expanded, so have our abilities to stick to more conventional methods of protest and change-making lessened. No longer can sit-ins and small-scale protests do the job - the media doesn't care about anything that doesn't involve death or huge view gain - and senators stopped personally reading their mail years ago.

The saving grace of the nation's bleeding hearts has been the increasing dependence of our global society on technology - specifically the internet - and its ability to spread awareness. I get alerts about crises around the world from Amnesty International, the UN Foundation, Congress.org (just to name a few) on a daily and sometimes twice-daily basis.

Communication through e-mail and internet advertising has done more than it's possible to imagine for human rights struggles worldwide. Turn on your computer and you can't help but read about the crisis in Chad, or about displacement in Palestine. At the same time though, one must consider the effect of such tactics on our response to these tragedies. Evidenced by the blame we place on the media for making us numb to violence and sex, we are also becoming numb to genocide, to oppression, to death.

yes, there are those of us who still care - and a great deal at that - but in a time where being eco-friendly is the biggest trend, it's hard to believe the rest of the world won't quickly shuffle over to the next biggest thing in the months to come. Unfortunately, the laundry list of problems doesn't exactly give one hope for the future of our planet. But that's not the intent. What you need o take away is that there can be no improvement or real change without a recognition of the faults of the previous and existing systems.

Rather than giving up, it is no our responsibility to use our newfound awareness to get up and do something. Sign those petitions, write to your congressman, sure, but also try to branch out more.

Educate. As long as humans have the ability to speak, face-to-face communication with someone will remain the best way to relay information. Cater to their emotions in a a way that makes the subject applicable to them, reach people on their level, don't preach at them.

Act. If you can't give large sums of money, time is your next bet. Volunteer at the local chapter of whatever organization you're interested in supporting. Make phone calls to congressmen. Do something that helps someone else.

Make an impact. If you're going to march, sit-in, picket, or what have you, don't do it at a time that's convenient for you and for those around you. Leaving your house at two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon won't call as much attention as walking out of class in the middle of the period. If you are truly passionate about something, the loss (monetary or otherwise) will be more than worth it when you get at least one more person to take notice.

So what does this mean for you? I would hope at this point that it's pretty self-evident. If it's not, I leave you with this: whether we caused them or not, the problems we face are being heaped upon our generation, one-by-one. It is our responsibility to make the impossible possible by forgetting ourselves for once in our privileged lives and stepping beyond our comfort zone, making a real sacrifice for those things we believe in.

Legitimacy.

2008-05-08T04:48:45Z

Especially after studying the 19th century, I truly understand how important legitimacy is in the success of a government, or a leader. Just as the people of France questioned the legitimacy of Napoleon, being a Corsican, as he rose to power, we must also question the legitimacy of every presidential candidate in this election.

This is not to say that John McCain is not a legitimate candidate, or that Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama are. Each candidate has every right to be contending for the presidency: they are American people, with American interests at heart. Whether or not I agree with their policies does not matter.

A key component is, however, the reaction of the people to the candidates. People say that Obama, for example, is less legitimate than the other two candidates because of his lack of experience. They say that people - young voters especially - only support him because of his youth and his charisma, not for his policies. But to say this is to call the majority of the youth of America, and every other Obama supporter, illegitimate and incorrect.

We do not have the right, if we are to claim to live in a democracy, to completely discount the entire movement that is sweeping across our nation in this election. The fact that we have record voter turnouts - especially in the younger demographics - and massive grassroots activism, means that something has truly changed in the way we interact in our own democratic system. And that means something.

We cannot discount the discussion that has been started by the idea of change, the idea of a democratic revolution so to speak, where we transform the partisan politics of today into the cooperation of the future. To deny that discussion, to say that the American people do not want to change the way things are right now, is ignorant. Even if Obama is not elected, change will happen in this country, because this discussion will not end in November. We have truly revolutionized the way we view our role in government over the past year.

You and I are living in America at one of the most powerful times in its recent history. It is now our responsibility as free citizens to take full advantage of the opportunities afforded us by that freedom, and to vote, and get out and change as much as we can, and deflect the path we are currently walking on as a nation, before it's too late. To say that we can't is to give in to the pessimism, and to fear the possibility that something could go wrong. If we live that way, we will never progress, and everything will crumble into self-doubt and denial. Hope is the only way to better our world.

Yes. We. Can.

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but merely the recognition that something is more important than fear."

angst_plug_in @ 2008-03-15T17:04:00

2008-03-16T00:09:51Z

A year later, and I'm having some major deja vu about people's opinions on my involvement in activities.

I will repeat this for the final time:

My life, is my life. Not yours. I have never said no to Beaverton, never, until now. And the one time I say no? Beaverton jumps all over me. For my sanity, and for my happiness, I am saying no. And Beaverton is just going to have to accept that. Because right now, I am more important than one activity in a school that I will be leaving in 3 months.
Does that mean I am completely detaching myself? CLEARLY NOT. I am simply taking a break from one activity that also happened to be the most time consuming one I participated in. And the one I least enjoyed.
Accept it, or keep your criticism to yourself, Beaverton.

angst_plug_in @ 2008-03-08T19:37:00

2008-03-09T03:39:25Z

Written about The House of the Spirits.

Amanda
If hell is other people,
the house is a haven of the Supernatural.
She blows through like a cool breeze
in the heat of the bodies that aren’t there.
The jangles of her bracelets and trinkets (5)
like the bones of the dearly departed;
The black of her hair
the darkness of nothing beyond.
Lost in the fog of war, discontent, and death,
the cloud grows that surrounds her, (10)
concealing her pain.

A new life lost to a man who was a boy
and a girl who was a woman.
The life ripped from her loins,
she lay accepting her fate (15)
cradled in the arms of a man who she
did not understand.

Mother to a son that is not hers,
instinct often wins out,
and protection is her mantra. (20)
Her lover is a creature of fleeting passion.
Easily forgotten, she drifts away,
unaware of the hidden eyes that watch her;
until even these are lost in Time.

What is lost is always found again, (25)
the recognition seen in a twinkling of an eye.
A past long hidden does not easily resurface.
Hardly recognizable behind the decrepit exterior
is the exotic temptress of yesterday.
The drug having played a game (30)
of Metamorphosis.

The drug is a harsh lover, no worse
than the men who use her like a hand towel
to be tossed aside.
Behind those old eyes, weathered skin,
needle tracks, tattered rags,
is a child in need of comfort and vitality.
Destroyed by years of life’s cruelty,
she returns to the beginning
at the End.
-Courtney Graham

Everyone else writes about snow, but whatever.

2008-01-28T19:02:32Z

I can't believe it snows on a day off.

Fuck.

2008-01-12T07:12:46Z

Again, why do I always want things that I can't have? I just need someone to spend time with, someone who can tell me - however cheesy this is - that it will be okay, and that I'm not kidding myself. Being independent isn't all it's cracked up to be, let me tell you. I'm sick of people who don't get me, who don't appreciate me. I'm fucking sick of high school.

Not just that, but I need to move on. I love my friends, and I love my teachers, but I can't do it anymore. I need to experience my own life, but goodbyes are impossible now, because no one will get how much I need to let go. There would be anger, and tears, and big debaucles not worth the drama. Being that bluntly honest comes with a price, that I've paid more times than I can count. Be careful how unafraid of judgement you are, because until you've known what it's like for someone to actually be Afraid of you, you don't know how much it hurts.

Desire.

2008-01-12T03:18:02Z

Why do I always want things I can't have?

Musing.

2008-01-07T05:38:36Z

To Muse: 1. to think or meditate in silence, as on some subject. 3. to meditate on.
4. to comment thoughtfully or ruminate upon.

Do I really want to meditate on the past year? Not that 2007 isn't worth remembering, but always, it seems, retrospect brings with it regret, overanalyzation, and remembering what could have gone differently. I think that is enough to delay a complete review, at least for now.

Where will 2008 take me? I'm not sure yet, but I like the look of the prospects. New year, here I come.

Lack of Focus.

2007-11-12T22:03:34Z

I am failing miserably at focusing on this ToK essay, which also happens to be 1/3 of my IB ToK grade. Shit.

Oh well, I have relatively good faith at my writing-at-the-last-minute-and-still-doing-alright skills.

It's just really hard to not get distracted by music, the internet, and the not-even-related-to-ToK thoughts racing through my head. And the fact that I just used dashed phrases twice. That's a problem.

Ugh. Why can't I focus?

College Essay.

2007-10-09T03:41:16Z

Is it weird that I'm thinking of adapting this (Old Entry) into my college essay? I have no clue how. But it was just an idea.

Reflecting.

2007-08-26T07:45:50Z

I sit here, trying to write and focus, talking to Matt and listening to this song for the who-knows-how-many-th time (Thanks Matt Pharr). I don't know what it is about this song, but no matter how many times I listen to it, I don't get tired of it. There must be a connection with the lyrics that I haven't yet discovered.

Today wasn't necessarily a productive day, but it was a good one nonetheless. I ran four miles this morning with the girls; unfortunately this was more taxing on my ankle than usual, which probably means I need to take some more time off. Something I cannot do, because a) I am captain, and b) we have a meet the second day of school. Responsibility kind of sucks sometimes, as does my extreme resistance to be seen as weak or as a failure.

After practice I finished watching the rest of Disc Two of "Invasion," the TV show my family has decided is going to become it's bonding activity for the next few weeks. It's actually an intriguing show, albeit a bit confusing at times. At the same time, I sporadically showered, dressed, and readied myself to head over to Mark's at four to attend his birthday/scavenger hunt extravaganza downtown.

Of course, being me, I was late to his house, because I had to go feed my cousin's dog and make sure she hadn't used their carpet as her own personal rest room. That was so fun. Not.

Mark's jaunt downtown was fun though, and meeting his friends from school was nice. I knew most of them anyway, but being able to chat more with them was good, especially since he talks about them enough. I talked a lot with his friend Johnny, who I discovered is one of the triplets who is friends with Dillon, and we laughed about him a lot. Pretty much all of Mark's friends do IB and Cross Country as well, which created two good topics for conversation, although I somewhat despise talking about school at this point.

Tonight was supposed to be Bourne movie marathon part two, but Matt's brother had friends over, so I ended up finishing "The Lives of Others" on my own instead. It's actually a pretty good film, despite the fact that I have to read it (It's in German). Thought provoking so far even. Haven't had the chance to finish it yet though, because Brad and his French exchange student Matias showed up and we went for a walk and chatted in my backyard, which was nice becauseI haven't seen Brad in ages. It's always good to have a dose of cynical and sane. A good break in the chaos.

It's hard to think that these are the last nights of summer that I can really enjoy as I have this one. Soon it'll be time to actually buckle down and be productive, and to develop my old sleeping habits so that I can function as a student again. Tragic really, but exhilarating at the same time. Senior year, here we come. I hope I can make it fun without getting lost in the crowd.

Summer.

2007-08-20T08:15:33Z

As I arrive home late from yet another night out with (this time) Daniel and Will, I really start to fear the end of summer. I always have amazing bursts of activity, where I go out for a movie, or drive out to the middle of nowhere at 11 o'clock at night just to "watch" the meteor shower. Or watch HSM2 with Tina and Courtney, or have a girls' night with Allisha. Even just coffee after hours at AVA has become a treat, and a curse. It's always so much fun at the time, until I realize that this is our last summer really together. And, of course, it's the first time I've begun to forge friendships with people I hadn't before ... and they're leaving. Sure, they won't be far, but that's not the point. It's that I've taken people for granted and not realized it until they're gone.

Yes, there will be the school year, and next summer, but it's not the same. Next summer there will be an even greater degree of finality - the last everything we do together. And for some of us, the lasts will come sooner as we leave for school, or for vacations that take us far away from home. I want this to be a summer, and a senior year, that I'll remember; for the good and the bad. Bates' "One more time for the last time," has never meant so much to me before.

I only hope I can take advantage of these lasts, and not allow something amazing to pass me by.

angst_plug_in @ 2007-07-30T00:48:00

2007-07-30T08:41:12Z

I haven't written in almost two months. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one. For some reason, I can't seem to formulate my thoughts anymore, at least not into something that I'm willing to show all of you here. I still don't know what to say, even after two hours of this window sitting open. There's so much I could tell myself, and you, but so much that I love keeping to myself.

I find myself stuck in a sad situation. I can give advice to people, and not to be arrogant, but I give pretty good advice sometimes. But I never seem to be able to follow it. How hypocritical is that? I can tell someone to not be afraid to take risks and get hurt, because the pain is what makes the pleasure and happiness that much better. And I can remind a friend that we musn't dwell on the past, and that it is better to let go of and move on from those things which tie us down. But I won't acknowledge the end when I know it's there.

How do I learn to heed my own warnings? What can I say to myself to build up the confidence to take the steps or make the moves that I suggest?

What am I so afraid of?

Nostalgia.

2007-06-07T04:08:57Z

View Poll: Will you go out with me?!

With seniors leaving, I find myself reflecting on the past 3 years I've spent with them, and for some, much longer than that. For a while, I tried to fight my mind when it wandered back too far, but I have officially given up.

These wanderings have produced many odd memories; of middle school, of kindergarten, of first 'loves' and popsicles. Yes, I know, everyone says these things, for they are the obligatory remembrances. But it's true.

I especially remember the days of crushes, and "Check Yes/No/Maybes." For some reason, this seems more relevant now than ever before. I wish I was as blunt and honest as my middle school self, or at least that other people were (I clearly haven't changed much).

I want to go back to the days of middle school where we almost acted more adult than we do now - bravely approaching a task (Be it a crush, a project, showing who's boss on the playground) - and not really thinking farther ahead than that moment.

Paper Pococurantism.

2007-06-06T16:40:37Z

It's amazing how the loss of 8 people in a class can completely destroy the dynamic, and the productivity. We always have these grandiose ideas of how we will carry on the legacy, and actually accomplish something, but it's never the case.

I've found that sarcastically flirting, making fun of Brian and Doug, blaming everything on the seniors that aren't here anymore, and doing things that aren't newspaper are much more amusing.

So, Tina and I sit here, writing on Livejournal, and listening to the relationship histories that Doug has decided to narrate for the class' and Mr. Evans' enjoyment.

Enjoy this not-so-sunny day.

An Unfortunate Addiction.

2007-06-06T02:38:30Z

They really should make unfortunate-asshole-addiction patches. Sometimes I feel like that. Why is it that we cannot let go of those who have hurt us so much? We allow them to be dumb for so long, and then forgive everything when one thing goes right. They are addicting and dangerous at the same time. Much like cigarettes. But they have so much potential for change, and for transformation into something good, that it's so hard to get away, to separate ourselves. Disentangle their emotions and physicality from our minds and our hearts.

It sucks. In fact, it's one of the hardest things I've dealt with this year. But it must be done. And it must be done in an adult manner. By forced conversation - face to face - mature conversation. Putting everything on the table, and making no exceptions. It's a tough step, but force is necessary, and being open to their emotions too - you just have to get them to open up, and then everything changes. Or so we hope.

Will everything change? Yes. Will it always change the way we want it to? No. Things may progress farther, or you may be forced to close a door that you had a toe in for so long. We just need to take the plunge and find out, and be ready to accept whatever comes our way.

Crying:
Sometimes you need to cry. You just need to experience that outpouring of emotions to be able to achieve the mental clarity to put the crying behind you, and move on to the next step; confronting those emotions and forcing yourself to be brave and deal with them.

Fighting ourselves in order to mask emotions is an instinct we create when we get hurt enough as a result of an action, but it's one that's not always right. Yes, excessive crying is bad, just because it makes people shrink away from you, rather than comfort you like they should. No matter how idealistic some people are, being too emotional is just an annoyance to people.

But crying is not a bad thing, especially when it is completely justifiable. No - he probably doesn't deserve your tears, but you do. Sometimes we just need to cry for ourselves. Otherwise you're going to explode without that release of emotion. And negativity isn't always bad. Just don't make it a habit. I prefer to be realistic and a little cynical, rather than negative.

How responsible are we for who we are?

2007-05-22T03:46:17Z

My dad has been asking me recently, 'Are we capable of changing our personality?' Another friend also posed the question, 'Do we have to be responsible for who we are, and take action on that?'

First, it is important to realize that we cannot change who we inherently are. Our personality is completely deeply rooted from the time we are a child until we die. But we can learn to change those things that we see as weaknesses. For example, I am a very shy person, but I have learned to deemphasize that part of myself, and work on my more outgoing sides - that is an adaptation I have made of my inherent personality.

I don't think that we should strive for the unreachable - being realistic is very important. But you shouldn't be nihilistic either. We can't really change who we are, even if we see a fault, but we can learn to adapt those things that are weaknesses and learn to make them strengths.

Yes, some things we may never be able to change, but it's still important to recognize a flaw, and maybe learn to control it in some way, because we can only try our best (no matter how that cliche that is) and that's all.

It's hard to say whether we have to take action or not. What do we define as action as a result of that realization? I definitely think it means we can't whine about who we are - we made ourselves this way, if you have a problem, change yourself. But I don't think that we need to go around changing ourselves on a whim, I think that because we are our own creators, we need to put some thought and planning into the process. We are responsible for whatever happens, so therefore we must be responsible in how we take action.

angst_plug_in @ 2007-05-20T19:27:00

2007-05-21T02:43:05Z

I am small pebbles and stones
Walked on, passed by;
Crushed beneath your imposing weight
as you stroll along.

Others placed in pockets to be forgotten, carried along,
Washed and tumbled dry,
Worn and weathered in a foreign jungle of cotton,
yesterday's love notes, today's crumpled wrappers.

Weeks later the cool weight brushes your side,
Reminds you
Of the small burden you've borne for so long.

And you remove me,
To see the revealed crystalline interior,
The true value that I, a small token,
Held in wait for you.

However trivial the collection was at the time,
This small rock of me was destined for something-
To be discovered by you,
To recover into what I genuinely was all along, in hiding.

Delaying my entrance until the time was right;
Losing my decrepit exterior to the ingenious creation I contained.

Even the most rough, jagged,
Crooked old stone can be
Slowly chipped away into
Something smooth and delicate.

Cracks and severed edges are faint,
Only leaving behind few blurred reminders of the insignificant pebble
I once seemed to be.

Friendship.

2007-05-21T02:06:34Z

I think that a lot of times, it's easier to be angry with a person when you don't have to look at their face, because you can't really see their reaction, you can just hear it or read it. But you know that this is the kind of conversation you should have in person, because you need to see the emotion.

But then you see that person, and you try hard to be mad, because you know you are, and you know you have reason to be. But the anger just kind of dissapates, and you go back to the way things were, however much you know you probably shouldn't, because they're your friend. And that is what being a friend is, learning to forgive and forget - pretty much no matter what they do. And you take them back. No matter what people say.

So you vent to someone else about them, and try to move on. You feel so badly, but you really don't see any other way. Then it spirals out of control - venting for you becomes gossip for other people, and the guilt grows, and grows. So finally you stop, you deal, you try to talk to them face-to-face, to avoid the awkward behind-the-back talking. Well, that doesn't always go so well, even though it should - you're not trying to be mean, just honest.

Instead, for the sake of their emotional stability, you become the better person. And then you have the other situation, where you're angry, and you know you shouldn't be, or at least don't want to be, but you just are. So you get it out of your system, and then, because they are your friend, they forgive you, because, as I said before, that is what friends do. They get mad at each other sometimes, they show weakness and vulnerability.

The Moral of the story? Be vulnerable to someone else, so that they can see you - even at your worst - but know that everything will be okay, because you share that with them now.

Friendship is tough. We're afraid to be vulnerable, and honest, and really afraid to be wrong. But sometimes that's just what needs to happen - as long as we figure out we're wrong. Sometimes you just need to let life take you where it will - and not care about where you're going to end up. It's the fun you have on the way, not where you're going to, that's the most enlightening and enjoyable.

Stress.

2007-04-22T07:23:32Z

High school. It's supposed to be something you enjoy; filled with those activities that you love, or that interest you. They tell you to do everything that you want - they'll help you make it work. The coaches, the advisors, the teachers, the friends.

But that's not really true is it? The alarm beeps in the morning, you wake up, and you leave that utopian state of your dreams. You get to school, and every class period leaves you drained of attention, and left with yet another homework assignment-essay-test. You move through the day like an empty shell, too tired to put the full energy into those things that you may care about, but just can't sacrifice 100% of your energy because then you will never survive to the end of the day. Then the bell rings, and you fight through the sea of teenagers on their way home to reach your car, and gather your gear, going the wrong way in the scheme of things. You make it to the field at 2:45, and do your two laps, stretch with the team. You get to the workout, and you put whatever you have left into making it through, and doing the best you can. But that's not good enough, is it? There's always someone better. Someone who can put more in than you can. And they make sure to tell you that. Then comes the lecture. Why aren't you there? Why does this come before me? Or that? You need to give this your all, I don't care about the other things. You need to choose, and you better pick me. Conversation over. Assignment due tomorrow.

So then you trudge to your car, trying to gather enough energy to go home and face your homework. And the choosing part? Why not ask your mom, or your dad - your closest confidantes? Why not? Because they're just another person forcing you to choose. Trying to superimpose their values onto your life. Sure, family comes first. I know that. I believe that. I make sacrifices for that. In fact, I just made a sacrifice for that that may have cost me the respect of a coach. But you know what, that's okay with me.

What's not okay with me, is when the supposed control of your life apparently belongs to other people. I guess I was unaware that I don't actually get to have a say in my life, ha, how naive of me! That's my friends', my superiors' responsibility. Wow, I sure had it wrong. So I have the one general thing: You do too much, you need to drop something to survive. Okay, I get that, obviously. How stupid do you think I am? Then there's: You don't deserve to do well in that, so you might as well give up there. Or: You can't drop that, you hypocrite, that's totally unfair. Or: You have to drop that, otherwise I won't let you do this anymore. Or: you can't drop that, because you've been committed for so long (Even though I have no position, and it won't take me anywhere).

UGH! Can't I just enjoy what I'm doing? Do what I like, without being forced to choose? I'm sorry, but honestly, it's not my fault that I happen to be good at most of the things I'm involved in. But should that mean that I have to give 100% to it, just because I am good at it? I can't give 100% to everything - I've tried that before, and I just can't. I break down too quickly, I dissolve. I become so thin you can see through me. And I know I can't go on like this. I shouldn't be expected to give 100% to everything I'm good at all of the time. Maybe I just want to have fun. To let high school serve it's function. Sure, maybe someone else is better than me, and gives more than me. But it's because this is all they have. They don't have anything else. Nothing. I have other options. I'm not going to become a musician. Or a professional athlete. I want to be a biologist for God sakes. Why do I have to give 100% to everything that doesn't apply to that? Why should I be forced to cut my pleasures now? I want enjoyment, God Damnit.

I mean, jeez. Where do people come off thinking they have the right to completely criticize everything I do? Everything I am? Telling me what to do? And then they get angry when I get angry? What the hell?! I mean honestly, how self-important, how bitchy, how stupid can you be? What culture do you come from, where you can be that rude to someone?

Yes. I know I have decisions to make. But I'd appreciate it if you leave your suggestions as just that, and don't be so arrogant to think that I will take whatever you say as complete edict. I am always open to suggestion. But this is about me, and not you. And if you have a problem with that, then I guess you're not a real friend then, are you?

Anger.

2007-02-20T03:20:51Z

How is it that even when you don't do anything wrong, or anything at all, for that matter, people can be angry with you? And not angry because of inaction on an important issue; no, anger because of a situation that you are an unwilling participant of. All you try to do is give advice, or to let everything blow over, and they yell at you. Weird, huh?

I love poetry. It makes me smile.

2007-01-21T18:32:29Z

Elm
For Ruth Fainlight

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.

Is it the sea you hear in me,
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?

Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, this big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.

I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?

I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches? -

Its snaky acids hiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.

--Sylvia Plath