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[11 Oct 2008|10:56pm] |
I'm so over all of it. Time to get under something else. Errr, that's not how it was supposed to sound. Oh well.
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| 302: I Give You This Ghost |
[10 Oct 2008|09:23pm] |
"I Give You This Ghost" Jesse Millner
of the skinny ten-year-old playing in the woods near grandfather's farm in Burkeville, of all the moons I watched tremble in the evening skies and the rope swing with a tractor tire on the end of it, the wonder of centrifugal force, the spinning majesty of the dervish, and even though I did not know yet about Rumi, I knew that god lived at the edge of the gaining spiral, that the whirl of blood in my brain matched the spin of the cosmic wheel, the one god that rules over all of us, and infinitely so.
Even without the big tire, I'd spin amid the lightning bugs in a Virginia dusk when the dark fell and the stars came out, those regions of big dippers and bears, and with each breathless circling I'd feel the pull of something greater than myself—scrambled neurons, gaping ganglia and pulsating arteries, my body itself the scattered verse of eons, my body electric and pierced
by bug light and cosmic night. Oh, great god almighty, why did I capture those little angels and trap them in a jar? Where soon their tiny lights would fade and only an insect would remain, where once there had been that sweet yellow dancing on the margins of tobacco fields and woods that rose and fell in the swelter, the sea of dusk.
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[09 Oct 2008|08:46pm] |
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mood |
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restless |
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i saw my morning jacket on saturday and i met the whole band - the keyboardist but whatever. i met jim james and hugged him. his sweat was on my cheek and now his signature is in my journal so awesome.
im having bay withdrawals.
its time to go back.
thank god i got rid of you.
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| 301: Farmhand |
[09 Oct 2008|08:13pm] |
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music |
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Prodigal - Casting Crowns |
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“Farmhand” James K. Baxter
You will see him light a cigarette At the hail door careless, leaning his back Against the wall, or telling some new joke To a friend, or looking out into the secret night.
But always his eyes turn To the dance floor and the girls drifting like flowers Before the music that tears Slowly in his mind an old wound open.
His red sunburnt face and hairy hands Were not made for dancing or love-making But rather the earth wave breaking To the plough, crops slow-growing in his mind.
He has no girl to run her fingers through His sandy hair, and giggle at his side When Sunday couples walk. Instead He has his awkward hopes, his envious dreams to yarn to.
But ah in harvest watch him Forking stooks, effortless and strong — Or listening like a lover to the song Clear, without fault, of a new tractor engine.
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| 300: We Have Been Friends |
[08 Oct 2008|07:32pm] |
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music |
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Don't Dream It's Over - Sixpence None the Richer |
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“We Have Been Friends Together” Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
We have been friends together, In sunshine and in shade; Since first beneath the chestnut-trees In infancy we played. But coldness dwells within thy heart, A cloud is on thy brow; We have been friends together— Shall a light word part us now? We have been gay together; We have laugh'd at little jests; For the fount of hope was gushing Warm and joyous in our breasts. But laughter now hath fled thy lip, And sullen glooms thy brow; We have been gay together— Shall a light word part us now? We have been sad together, We have wept, with bitter tears, O'er the grass-grown graves, where slumber'd The hopes of early years. The voices which are silent there Would bid thee clear thy brow; We have been sad together— Oh! what shall part us now?
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| 299: When I Heard The Learn'd Astronomer |
[07 Oct 2008|07:22pm] |
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mood |
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loved |
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music |
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Blush (Only You) - Plumb |
] |
"When I Heard The Learn'd Astronomer" Walt Whitman
When I heard the learn'd astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; Till rising and gliding out, I wander'd off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.
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| ----- |
[07 Oct 2008|08:27am] |
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i dont care what anyone says. breaking up is hard to do. and i just want to pack and move far away and make money.
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| a delightfull mix |
[06 Oct 2008|03:19pm] |
.till i die?. i was thinking that id take a hit maby just a little bit i dont want you anymore tell me how i am sucha bore ask me if i even care i've already been there everywhere isnt anywhere i almost wish i did care
 .the girl with funny hair. got lame reel quick got ready i'm not a dick got dead she broke my shit got to cut harder i might be a prick got gone do it more got to run it been fun.
 .about yourself. i am singing today but aint nobody listin its a truly good thing, my voice aint for miss'in i realized i was pretty when i was staring at my thight fat i thought thats not to much, i've sceen bigger than that. i walked all threw the woods just look for a clue i walked all threw this town the only thing i found was you.


as it goes, it goes well autum is here and summer has fell. so far i am working two jobs part time and school full time, but not fully. job one, is olan mills where if i do nothing i do better, ironiclly at this meeting i went to where i watched my bosses, bosses boss talk to everone like middle school and i watched this i desiced i hate this company. Later that day my bosses, bosses boss asked me if i would like to be a floating photographer. i dont get it but i am okay with that, hey i get a raise! Job two is at an eye dr office and i get to puff air in to peoples eyes, this makes me smile: ), but really my boss is very nice and the job keeps mu busy witch makes time pass quckly and i like that. AS far as environmental geology,career planning,advertising and ceramics i wish i was more interested or had more time to care. as i am going on 16 years of schooling and looking at at least 4 more years of it i realize just how much the american schooling system has failed us all. I can barley spell, i do math like a retarded ape and all in all i learned more from myself then any class. i hope when i have a degree or two i get hired in to a high paying job so when i forget to spell because i can giggle at the expence of my employer. home. SO i spent much of today putting vintage ads in to frames so i could hang them from my newly painted ( in an argile like pattern) hallway. when i finally have carpet and flooring and all my shit in one place t.l.c will beg to crawl in my home....as for right now i live much like a hobo with my clothes in boxes and piles of in everyroom. i kinda wanted to piss myself when i found a bed set that matched my bed room wall colors ( brown and green) in a way that made my heart sing on sale. I can only wonder how i came to care about that sort of shit, but i do and when thing match i a round about sort of way it makes me want to dance all over my sub floorless floor. i am making my spare office an amercaina pin up girl theme complete with world war two song sheet decorative covers and antique cameras. oh glory. the living rooms is becoming more and more of a michgan woods (bears, moose,and woodland creatures) complete with a fesant coutch that even a 90 year old bingo manic would find tacky with a bright green 70's man chair to complement. as for the rest of the house i have all sorts of ideas but i am playing it by ear. i hope that before halloween the carpet man does his deeds so we can have a punkin carving contest.
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| 297: i like my body when it is with your |
[03 Oct 2008|09:29pm] |
"i like my body when it is with your" e.e. cummings
i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite a new thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss, i like kissing this and that of you, i like,, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big Love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
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| 296: The Unfinished Suicides of My High School Sweetheart |
[02 Oct 2008|05:26pm] |
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music |
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Good Day - Jewel |
] |
"The Unfinished Suicides of My High School Sweetheart" Shira Erlichman
For Jake
We were platonic high school sweethearts that fucked in the front seat without touching and with our eyes open the whole time. Our questions locked at the genitals like children to bicycles. Our distant tongues sparked like forks dreaming of sockets. We were virgin high school sweethearts that fucked with the seatbelts on and the headlights blazing, daring passing drivers to stop and peek, challenging cops to pull over beside us and question how safe our conversation was.
We theorized about masturbation, weed, (and the combination), football players, our parents, Bone Thugs’ rapping techniques, and what percentage of wrong was it to think of someone else while getting head.
We could achieve orgiastic ecstasy on a pile of purple sweatpants. Our bodies fit together without being in one another. We were music. We were honest. And that is something World Leaders are too scared to touch. And we got angry. We got scared. And we weren’t enough for each other. And we were lovers.
It’s true: you were a man and I was a woman and the birds didn’t care, and the bees stung the both of us, but the level of intimacy made slobbering couples at school seem like they had the attention spans of goldfish. We were Red Rock meets blue sky of Arizona boldness, depth of mountains the color of dried blood.
You told me you wanted to die. Parked outside my parents’ house, asked what kept me living. I told you my brother’s name but you only had sisters.
You said it would be easy. One acquaintance away from getting a gun. Knew someone who knew someone. You were inches from releasing your feet from under the rope around your neck and I was there, and I wasn’t. You were scattered to red needles across the sheet of your chest and you were only a decision away from a vertical slice that opened the drawers of blood inside you until you were empty.
How could I tell you: you never wear sunglasses and I like that about you. You look like a muppet and that alone still makes me smile. You are curious yet patient. You never make me feel ugly, gendered or crazy and that is huge. This is friendship I keep in a drawer I will never unhinge and spill out.
I felt you tremor from across the cup-holder as a closed door on the left side of your chest rattled, which must have been frightening because the days were all empty rooms you waited in, and the women were laughter that lived outside your walls, and the men were impossible to be.
Jake, you look at me like I belong only in my skin, and you ask questions, which is the biggest compliment anyone can receive.
So in the car we’re constantly in, outside our parents’ houses, I swallow your keys to prove my commitment to finding a new way, another road, a life you can live with.
Why are you with the person you are with?
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| MY NIECE IS FINALLY HERE!! |
[02 Oct 2008|12:05am] |
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mood |
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ecstatic |
] |
Welcome to the world Lila Wynter ♥
( She's amazing!! )
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| 295: The arsonist stood up in court and said |
[01 Oct 2008|05:48pm] |
"The arsonist stood up in court and said" Jeffrey McDaniel
I am not an arsonist. I dreamt the building was a phoenix and needed my help. Before sticking me in a sentence, like a four-syllable word with only one meaning, consider what becomes of the ashes: see how after smearing a palm-full hair grows on a bald man’s scalp, how just a sprinkle makes irises sprout through sidewalk cracks. You call me sick, but have you ever seen a suicidal parakeet, a homeless butterfly? You want to know how you go crazy? One marble at a time. It’s the law of your language that dictates mess is the precursor for messiah. You don’t understand my logic to the hmph degree. Your style of math is forty-three floors beneath me. But you should have seen the fire, a symphony of mayhem, people leaping from windows, like lightning bolts somersaulting out of a terrible cloud.
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[30 Sep 2008|09:48pm] |
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mood |
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blank |
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music |
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Listerine & the Gingivitises |
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There are certain rules people should live by while at school. The most obvious being that always be aware of how you're presenting yourself because if it is gross enough some asshole could take a picture and post it online. Following that foremost detail, here are others:
1. Taking one's shoes off while in proximity to others, some might charge as guiltless, subjecting them to the horror of whatever smell permeates from your exposed flesh IS FUCKED UP.
2. Don't assemble your posture so as to resemble the fat balding gamer on South Park who beat the boys so many times in the World...of Warcraft.
3. Just don't.
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| 294: Youth |
[30 Sep 2008|06:32pm] |
"Youth" W.S. Merwin
Through all of youth I was looking for you without knowing what I was looking for
or what to call you I think I did not even know I was looking how would I
have known you when I saw you as I did time after time when you appeared to me
as you did naked offering yourself entirely at that moment and you let
me breathe you touch you taste you knowing no more than I did and only when I
began to think of losing you did I recognize you when you were already
part memory part distance remaining mine in the ways that I learn to miss you
from what we cannot hold the stars are made
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[30 Sep 2008|03:44pm] |
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mood |
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worried |
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Found out yesterday that Tealent's getting induced 6AM TOMORROW!! So AHHH and HOORRRAAAYYY the baby will be here! Then my mind kinda spaced & I let my dogs out; Forgot about them & they took off =[ Happened to give them a bath yesterday soooo... Their collars aren't on & i'm FREAKING out so bad If I saw them running down the road i'd take them in a heartbeat! Lets hope they just went back into the woods & They'll be back shortly otherwise i'm seriously gonna die AHHHHH i'm stressing out so bad!!
 PLEASE COME HOME SOON BABIES!!!( !!! )
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[30 Sep 2008|02:06pm] |
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| Sylvia Plath |
[29 Sep 2008|11:14pm] |
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"With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand... hopeless from the start. A story, a picture, can renew sensation a little, but not enough, not enough. Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die."
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| 293: I Want to Breathe |
[29 Sep 2008|05:18pm] |
"I Want to Breathe" James Laughlin
you in I'm not talking about perfume or even the sweet odour
of your skin but of the air itself I want to share
your air inhaling what you exhale I'd like to be that
close two of us breathing each other as one as that
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