Down On My Luck

Wow, I never cease to amaze myself in the ways I find to waste my time. I just looked through 134 pages of trashy ass prom dresses. I guess the models faces were kind of amusing, in a horrifying way.

So I spent the last 3 days in an ice bath, commonly known as Manhattan. The city is just a wholly different world than these 5 small towns nestled in central Massachusetts. In fact, there is very little I can find in common between the two places. The city is embedded with gems of small organic coffee shops, talent-struck performers, gaudy lights, art museums, flowery smelling women; strutting the streets in their success filled boots. And then you turn the corner, and stumble upon the crumbled body, buried in his torn faded blanket- a desperate attempt for warmth. Littered sidewalks, impatient taxi horns, pleading advertisements, greased rubber hot dogs. For some reason the words 'commercial mind fuck' kept streaming through my head while prowling the jammed streets of Time Square. So much fraud!

You have been good to me 2009. I wish I could be sentimental and bring back my favorite moments of these 365 days of changing and growing but 2 o'clock A.M. is not the time. Tomorrow, as I am running away from the 32 chapters of Huck Finn that I have yet to start, I will (maybe) put my procrastination to use. For now, I'll see you when the sun sets east, don't forget me.

I'm Gonna Clean These Veins Again

Just as a ductile lump of play-dough would be, she can be stretched and strung on to a life that she does not belong to. Her mind will trick her, due to desires, attempts, pleads at forming a essential piece to the social puzzle. But no, she has no place here. The heats increase the soft vulnerability of her texture, manipulating, haunting, lying. Where do we go from here?

Okay so- Christmas. There is a lot I don't understand about Christianity. Probably due to the fact that I have been to church once in my life, and I for the most part avoid asking questions. Most people, I find, don't have straight forth answers anyways. Religion, beliefs, traditions, they all vary between each holder. So I guess my questions would more sufficiently be returned with a personal opinion or reply rather than a factual answer. Thoughts and opinions are always more interesting anyways. But I know there is something about being real giving and caring during the time, and that is just sweet and warm. A warm that thaws the bitterness of everything that is ever so slightly destructive inside of us. Resentment, guilt, hate, they don't exist when showered with these gleams of warmth. To put it simply, I really just want to be warm yellow light that pours all over everyone I love.

To everyone who has made me 'discover myself' in the past 78 days, i love you, you are beautiful, and thank you. (That goes to you, reader)

Or Maybe Not.

Sitting with Erin McGowen at lunch today was one of the brightest parts of the 6 hour school day. There is something special in that girl, and I don't think everyone sees it. Being the foundation is admirable. She is a very active listener too, which I think anyone can appreciate. You're awesome gourl.

Later in that same lunch, I found myself eaves-dropping on a conversation between Emily and Mr. Farrell. It is really unfortunate that I got stuck with such a shitty English teacher last year, when this guy was right down the hall, preaching actual knowledge to his students. Thankfully, I will never in my life have to spend another moment in a classroom with Roberta Lajko. Anyways, Mr. Farrell's ending line to the conversation left me in contemplation for the remainder of the day. "i'll see you guys later, or maybe not" What makes us so certain that we are not lying, when we say 'i'll see you tomorrow!' The thought is kind of morbid, but in reality we can never confirm that statement unless it changes tenses ('i saw you today!') If we thought this way, I have a feeling that the time spent with each other would be savored to a whole new level.

I am loving APUSH more and more with each passing day, and despising grades more and more with each passing hour. I learned so much about the Jazz Age in these past 2 weeks, and tomorrow I am going to be given a numerical judge, which with loudly display my worthiness to be anything of importance in life. Really, grades are bullshit. If I had the courage and determination to stand up with civil disobedience, I would hold a riot to protest the use of grades. Instead I am just going to be tested on how Thoreau did it.

i'm so nervous, i'm so tense

my heart can't forget about it's self defense

the air is so hot and my breath comes fast

been thinking little thoughts,

'keep on walking' - 'try to stay up'

pay attention to the details

we go slowly, slowly down.

i'm all outtta luck

But I can try, I can try, to toughen up..

Hannukah is so different this year. Thinking about it too much makes my chest hurt, so I try to avoid being nostalgic about how festive it used to be. I distinctly remember counting down the days. Fighting with Phoebe over who got to put the candle on the velcro menorah each night. Mounds of colorful presents, 8 of which smelled like cigarette smoke from my step grandmother's blackened lungs. Waiting anxiously in my room, while my parents hid my presents around the house. Searching for said presents ravenously, worrying that Phoebe was going to find hers before me. That feeling of warmth and utter joy that a kid gets simply from a stupid toy, one that would soon be forgotten in the weeks to come.

That velcro menorah is lying in a pile of dust and other unwanted objects in the crevices of Phoebe's closet. My step grandmother is out of my life, I probably won't even be able to tell you when the blackness of her lungs finally conquers her. Phoebe is gone, and I am now given a present every night in the manner that adults exchange gifts. Seated, proper, carefully unfolding wrapping paper, politely thanking. I suppose it is all for the better that I have moved on from the child version of Hannukah. Now, my warmth and joy comes from gratitude I have that I get to have a nice dinner with my parents every night. And from my new found fascination with candles. How quickly that flame can make them go from a tall standing pillar of success to nothing but melted goop. I don't know, I guess change is healthy or something like that. Thats what they say at least.

Change is hard, I should know.

December 16, 2009

My room is the coldest room in the house. No matter how hard I try, the chilled air remains grasped to my walls, never allowing the warmth it. Mental block.

Day 5

Today I..

1. .. experienced the most awkward DP of my life in english, and M. Worthy broke out her applause worthy moves. I wish Pheeb was there, then it would have been a real party.

2. .. listened to Sam Something talk about how he makes comic-book zines. He lives with his parents and has $0 to his name, but is content with the fact that he is going to leave something that he contributed to this world, when he dies. He was refreshing. 23 is a very young age to have receding hair lines and a bald crown on your head..

3. .. got my first 25% on a quiz! How exciting. (to the parents who are reading this.. my lowest quiz grade drops. so it was basically, simply a learning experience. we all need those)

4. .. procrastinated a whole lot.

5. .. found out I have a abnormally high belly button. Oh, so special.

mah gah bah.

Tangled

lonely, lonely, lonely. crowds. balloons, rain, splash, ouch- squashed. white light on my mind, never remember the time. time time time. edit? yes, edit edit edit. rust inhibits eyelids, chemicals reacting. 3 points less, strive. that ice perched on your finger, wedding. white and black, such contrast. "oh really? thats weeeeird" bored, always bored. wet tears on your baby's shoulder, 39-24-5. take a look around, no regrets, no regrets. red? no, you are my favorite color.

the planet is a gunboat in a sea of fear

thom yorke's voice is a stroke of genius. i'm tellin yah, when the ice, snow, sleet, nasty-black-rock-hard-make-you-hate-winter-snow comes, bring on the radiohead. and this picture perfectly depicts my feelings at the moment. i'm just gonna go ahead and chose not to believe what they tell me, when they say you are being a fraud. because i don't agree, and also i don't want to agree. so i'm not going to.

today was a content kind of day. eff kawledge, i'm not going to stress about that yet! things are looking uphill.

I want to live and breathe
I want to be part of the human race.

i'm just a drip in your faucet

snow days make me very nostalgic. i took it for granted back then. the fact that it was an entire day, where i had uninterrupted time with my sister, and we could crawl around under the sagging branches in our yard. where did those woods good? i swear they are not there anymore. they seemed to carry on for miles, with countless crevices to hide in. playing in the snow always made you so hot and sweaty, because digging yourself out of the weight and burden of the powder was actually quite a laboring task. probably even more so than the pointless shoveling my parents did. i loved snow days then. of course, i still do now, but just for lazy reasons. kids are never lazy.

song of the day is emily jean stock by clap your hands say yeah

you look so neat, everyday is your birthday

they will shred you to pieces

Did you know that foxes bark? There is one roaring away in my backyard right now. These desperate violent screams can't help trigger images of Stella being ferociously torn apart by a ravenous fox. I hate these images, they provoke a light flutter of panic in my chest. But then I remember that my fattie lard of a cat is sound asleep in her nicely cushioned bed. And some other innocent, defenseless animal is being attacked out there in the hard dry cold of my backyard..

Shout out to my darling sister who i miss terribly<3

Ahhhhhhh they won't quit barking

Please, with those wings in your spine

Byebye nutcracker 09, back to reality.

Oh amsco, how you never cease to amaze me with your dullness.

Hanover

Welcome to Nutcracker 2009. Quite scary how quickly I can go from miserable to joy-filled, just as a result of the comfort from a select few. I would not be able to do this week without them.