December 2009
32 posts
2010
IT IS ABOUT TIME.
Maybe!
An experiment is at hand!
My words have no meanings.
I talk to myself constantly. I am the only one willing to find meaning in my rambles.
Why are you reading this? You’re not. There is no meaning.
I am unacceptable.
My perspective is not lie nor fact, but it is there.
I have a will.
I have a way. Things will be fixed. I shall see to that. My love, stay calm. Calm. You may hate me now, that’s alright. I do not hate you. I love you. I will not give you any excuses. However, I offer you my explanation. I will explain myself to you. There is ration. I promise you a fair mindset. You will receive it soon; that is, if you will have it. I hope you will.
A lot has happened.
I don’t really know what to say. I am done complaining. Out loud, at least. I’m feeling pretty normal right now. Its probably beacuse I am altered. Anyhew, perhaps for my own reasons I will type out some of what I had felt.
Not 15 minutes after the door shut had I begun crying. The things he said hurt. We were on different levels. He was on the one where this was an act of...
Okay. I can do this. I just need to slow down. Things are not as regimented as she made them sound.
I get so irrational sometimes. It gets embarrassing every now and then.
Tch.
I call myself an artist? How arrogant of me. How blatantly arrogant. The pieces of shit I have been producing are just child’s play. I’m not going to get anywhere with them.
I need to get somewhere. How? How can this work for others and not me? I want to be included in this. I need to be. I don’t know how many times I can say that I don’t know what to do. I don’t...
Why didn’t I didn’t know I had to do all these things? I didn’t know that everything was so rigid and formulaic. So much criterea to be met. Maybe I’m not going to major in Fine Art. I need to though. I’m so scared that this isn’t going to work. I have just been talked at like crazy by Ms. Bollman. She told me everything that I need to be doing to get into art...
I don’t want to be like you. But for some reason a nagging feeling of sadness enters my emotion when you tell me that I no longer hold any resemblance to you. I am my own person. I emerged from your person to who I am now. I like who I am. I wish that you would too. I want you to be proud of me. Sincerely, not just for appeasement.
I'm still
trying to figure out the body. Yours and mine. The decision lingers.
I thought I had it down: the curves, the skin, the bones, the muscles. Your shape throws me curve balls, leaving me to ache with inspired curiosity. There will always be room for further study of the flesh.
What fun!
What spectacular fun!~
The answer is no.
You do not accept me for me. You believe that I am a silly girl with silly thoughts. That I am confused about what the “truth” really is. That everyone around me pollutes my mind and where their thought process goes, I put on my shoes to follow.
I am my own person. There is not one truth for me, but many. I have my own views and beliefs. I usually have friends that share common...
Why do I create? II
How can I not? There is so much inside of me. If I were not to let a small trickle of it out I would most likely go out of my mind. Sometimes I feel I have too much inside of me and become overwhelmed. I need to let what is inside of me translate to what is outside of me. When the viewer examines my art, I hope that they will catch a glimpse of understanding of what I have inside of me. I panic...
"Will you accept me or not?"
- “Does that affect me?”
“but, will you accept me?”
- “Does that affect me?”
“but, that doesnt—”
- “Does that affect me?”
“…no…”
-exeunt father-
Tree Haiku
These are haikus centered around the theme of trees. I wrote them for my comp II class. My professor really liked them. He said that I understand metaphor very well and should consider a career in language.
____________
Orange through the trees, Black outlines cover warm love, Revealing color
____________
Rough trails travel through, Maps marking homes of hard flesh, leaves spread licking sky...
Thank the Moon
At least one of my chief anxieties is cleared for now.
Arise.
I will defeat the challenges you all set before my bruised feet. I will accept them. I will hold them to my level so they may see the defiant spark that gleams within my eyes. I will work fast in mind and slow in body. I will toil for production and creation. I will make what is real. I will create it. I will become real. I can make it so.
Today:
I woke with tears in my eyes.
I tried to shut it out with Dagny.
I told them what was said and they laughed.
I offered a hand of peace. It was ignored.
I found comfort in Dagny and the pouch that I made. Thank you.
It’s okay if you are going to be the way you are. I can’t change that if you won’t let me. I’ll just keep on keepin’ on.
I always try.
I try so fucking hard.
I said it.
I shouldn’t have said it. I should not have fucking said it.
I didn’t think it was a big deal. I accepted it within myself long before I told anyone. It became normal in my knowledge. We were all sitting at the table. I was actually enjoying eating with my family. So I thought, why not? What is holding me back? It’s been on the tip of my tongue for months. I’m so tired of...
A good day.
I created a new pouch today. Half of the design is credited to me making mistakes! It looks so cute! I’m proud of it!
I will be in need of this canvas material, obscure/vintage buttons, and weird fabrics in the near future. If I plan on selling these babies, I’m going to need to work out my supply plans.
My inspiration has most certainly returned! I have lots of ideas written down....
Sweden.
I do not want to move there. Last night in my dream my parents decided that we were going to move, and that Sweden was the place to go. I was freaking out. I did not want to go there. I had so much going for me here. I’ll be damned if I leave all the people I love for my parents and Sweden. Most of my dream I spent prolonging our departure. I ran away for 5 seconds, saw Doozy for 2 and then...
I never knew
it could feel quite like this. There are so many things I have a want for, but right now, you top them all.
Thank you David. I felt so much better today.
I’m going to complete what I can of my term paper, go to college class, and the rest of the night I’m going to paint like a mad lady! RAH!
I want.
I want comfort. I want closure. I want to receive sometimes. I want to say things without restraint. I want to speak my mind. I want to talk with substance. I want to be noticed. I want to be something. I want to yell. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to live in the rain. I want catharsis. I want open arms. I want calm. I want warmth to burrow in my chest. I want so many. I want so much.
This is getting harder.
I thought after a few changes things would get easier. Perhaps I was wrong about this whole thing. I don’t want to be wrong. I want to be right. I’m so scared.
Night has become a trail. Morning I am undead. Afternoon is filled with creation. Then back to night.
I wonder if I could compare,
to these imaginaries you keep talking to. Would things be the same? I wonder what it’s like to be imaginary. Oh wait. I just remembered that I am too. So why won’t you tell me what the other imaginaries get to hear? They must be special-er.
Hushabye Mountain
A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain Softly blows o’er lullaby bay. It fills the sails of boats that are waiting— Waiting to sail your worries away. It isn’t far to Hushabye Mountain And your boat waits down by the key. The winds of night so softly are sighing— Soon they will fly your troubles to sea. So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain. Wave good-bye to cares of the...
I wish I could go back
and tell her that there’s nothing wrong with her. I wish I could have held her in my arms. I wish I could tell her how sweet and lovely she was. Every night she would cry with out anyone there. She would clutch her purple blanket because it was all she had. She would whisper, rock, and sing herself to sleep. She taught herself kindness and patience. She taught herself alone what a mother...
Don't you love it when your body is sore?
It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I can punch someone and get away with it.