Remember the past

What could it hurt? It is a familiar bag of something I know I love. Metaphorical significance be damned, I will have one. I reach in. I pull out the single sampler I forgot was in there. It's not what I like. It's not what I expected. It's not what I want and I should have known.
Perhaps I should accept that this bag no longer contains what it used to.







Or is it really just an anomaly...

a rose
a love
I see
above

A light that reaches to my soul
A hope
that lifts
yet takes its toll

I just wrote a whole post about how horrible my day was today and livejournal ate it.
guess ill have to just stop being depressed or something for today.

Let me just say this: Cut Copy is not better than MGMT. It is different. And good. But it's not better just because its more underground.
The thing is, in alternative music, something doesn't have to be mainstream to be good, but it generally has to be good to be mainstream There are some embarrassingly notable examples of when some crap was mainstream in alternative music, but it's still usually true. 

Okay so what I actually wanted to complain about: I'm getting sick of some of the aspects of being smart and pretty. I'm SICK of being put on a pedestal. It's happened so many times. Guys meet me. I'm pretty. I'm smart. They become astonished. They think I am awesome and perfect or something. They put me on a fucking pedestal. They expect impossible things from me. Then when they find out that i am a flawed human being who just happens to be smart and pretty they are suddenly disappointed. I'm so tired of waiting for them to finish the cycle then walk away from me forever. Or hate me.
I'm not perfect so stop making me feel shitty about it.

Also, I am so sick of trying to be friends with guys and having them fall in love with me. I need friends. I like having guy friends. Girls sometimes don't like me. Ok most of the time they don't like me. So instead I try to be friends with a guy. Then he starts to like me and i have to fucking tiptoe around for the rest of my fucking life. You idiotic boys, just STOP IT. Don't ever do it again. It's not my fault that I'm whatever it is that makes guys do this to me.

I'm starting to realize how incredibly smart I could be if only I gave a damn.

Given

What is given
Is gone.
Please listen
But he fades with the dawn.

What pain is mine
is from more than what i have given.
but the burden i gained.

I saw a green stone.
and with a child's innocence
I gathered.
Picking up stones
Never knowing that I would carry them forever.

It lies heavy in my hand.
I cannot rest.
I must carry.

Please
Lighten my load
Your words could ease
A smile might erode
Erode the stone in my palm
My tears wear it
Still it weighs.
Why?

Do you carry mine?
Has anger numbed your hand?

I will not cast off this stone.
I will not bitter and harden.
I will carry on.

Again I saw a stone.
I opened to its beauty
and again I have given.

What is given
is gone
But it is not what is given
but what is borne

I wish I could hate you for this burden

Love is like an addiction. Painful, consuming, and it always leaves its mark.
That's just on side of it though. Luckily there is the, you know, warm happy lovely part.

Nothing to say.
He makes me so happy. But I'm hurting. "Drowning in this petty world." Good song.
People are so flawed. I'm so flawed. I'm trying I swear, but i make mistakes. I say things I don't mean. I act differently than i mean.
Why does it have to be like this.

i had a dream that i went to a restaurant and it was my birthday so they said theyd give me a free meal and I was looking for the lobster, then they told me it had to be under 40$. I was pissed. Then i tried to find the seafood menu, but it was like a newspaper and i couldn't find the seafood section

I might be insane. But it's okay, because so are you. Don't lie.

What is happiness? What makes us happy? If happiness is measured in comparison to others, and we can never know how others experience happiness, how can we really tell if we're happy?
Happiness is a passing thing, it invades, elates, then slips away.

I DONT WANT TO WRITE

It is so humbling to realize we are surrounded by things we don't know, paths we have not walked, people we do not know. The endless branching tree of our path through life has so many tiny leaves we will never see. We look but very rarely do we really see. We are like our eyes, seeing very little of the world and filling the rest in with our assumptions. So don't presume to know me.


Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

-Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright

So beautiful, so sad. Like love. Being helpless. Being hopeless. And yet, being happy.
Pain and joy are best found together.

i feel so blank
its what happens when you work on homework and college apps for... 8 hours. Now I need to write my "why reed" essay. BECAUSE YOU HAVE SMALL CLASS SIZES, DISCUSION, AND MY FRIEND EMILY. AND ITS CRAZY FUN AND LIBERAL. can that be my essay? do i really have to write another interesting meaningful essay?

what is the reason i live by the day
what is the meaning of having to pay
for the love that i've taken and never returned
The hearts that I've stolen
The bridges I've burned

Why do I write this nonsense?

I suppose it has meaning to me. not to anyone else though. 
I wish it were snowing again...

they move around me
and endless line of people
and i carry their faces
I carry their hands
they give me a note
they give me their trouble

and i carry it with me
their secrets strain my back
their pain sears my eyes
but i carry it with me

His smile burns in my mind
it still brings the flood
That which was
stays on in my heart
this peice, this seed

And i carry it with me.
That which was stays in my heart
So when the tie fades
I will carry my grief on forever

Dark eyes look at me
The connection is alive
I want to show him
How much there is to love in him
Help him be comfortable with himself

and i carry it with me. 
I will carry his past on my path
The weight of what was
And what will never be

His need is strong and his love is pure
Comfort and calm and connection
And deep sadness.
And I will carry the part
Of him which is now mine
And I will carry his pain
And i will carry my guilt.

Each past I carry with me
Each weighs on my soul.
Each weight i carry 
Stays buried in me
These fragments of love
Live in me

and each day i live by them
and each day i die by them
 

again:
they were coming. i was throwing all i could into my car but i looked out the window and they were coming. they were here. It wasn't my window, why wasn't it my house? I ran to my car, threw it into gear. speed away from here. i was to meet him. i pulled into the lot, there was his car. I called to him and he got in. He said to stay, hide,i said to run. We stayed for a while then agreed to flee. We got in my car, left. I drove to take us far away. I looked over at him, but he wasn't there. I tried to call him, but i had no number.

In my dreams, why am i always running.
What am i running from?

it is still burning.

The flames flicker
surround a white rose
beautiful end to what never began

not a flower but a stone
smooth and sharp
cuts like it soothes

gathering stones,
a child picking them up
never realising i would carry them forever

The dark curve of night
surrounds my collection
and i revel in obscurity

I walk in the morning light
and dance in the dark
and i move with eyes that see in both

I am the flower
I am the stone
I am the one, forever without home
I am the one that carries them both
I live always for you
I live always for me

I love this and I hate this.
Everyday I come to class and all these ideas in me, just under my skin. We find them and they are no longer vague shadows. I love philosophy because it is all the little peices of myself I've thought on brought to the surface.
I am two people, pulling in different directions: Beauvoir and Ambiguity
I am who I am, but what about who I was?: The self and continuity
Fading into grey: Ethics and morality, consequentialism

Little pieces of my thoughts, written in my journal, and now i see, all these things I've been thinking about for so long. Here they are clarified. Out on the table so i can see further than ever into their meanings.

But I hate this.
Too much too fast
In TOK we watched a concert of silence.
I said Thank God 4 minutes and 33 seconds where i don't have to do anything, say anything, or hear anything. Thank God.
This is far too much. The endless list of tasks with barely a break. Can i please just go to sleep?

It was burning. Parts of trees burned in the rain like pitch torches. I was being chased. I tried to salvage what I could. Picking things up I piled them into my arms, but the more I tried to hold on to them the more fell from my grasp. I was out of time. I dropped everything but the reins. It might be too late, the delay of trying to salvage my life may have cost me all the time I had. It might be too late. I leapt on my horse, bareback, nothing but the reins. I told him to run. They knew all the exits, I had to think. I turned him to the west fence line. Racing down the hill I saw the fence. It was tall, too tall. We were only six strides out, we couldn’t turn back. He sees the fence, sees what I’m asking. His stride lengthens towards the fence between us and the burning forest that is our only escape. He takes his last stride before it. I throw myself forward onto his neck as he leaps into space…

"A supreme crisis overwhelmed them..."
"A supreme crisis overwhelmed them..."
gave in. they gave up. I say that they cannot deal with the situation. They cannot live with the fear of what they have done. Why does it haunt them? Why does he chase them?
How do we deal with change? We don't. We ignore it, and live as before. Even if the change is self inflicted. I've said, when something major changes in our lives, we always expect a great change in ourselves, but we wake up the next day as the same person we always were. It doesn't seem real. Then bit by bit it becomes a part of us. We become it. Like when you turn a year older, you dont feel older. You still feel 16, or 19, or 45. Then slowly, as you say it to yourself in the days and weeks it becomes a part of you. You become 16. Or 19 or 21 or 45.



















time heals and changes all
time brings acceptance
and on the slow wave of time comes our unavoidable end...

i feel like shit
i haaaaaate being sick
but at least it waited and i had a beautiful valentines
perfect

it was sad, this cute little mouse fell into my dogs water dish. My mom wouldnt let me save it, diseased little mouse. I thought i was being childish. But i sat and watched it swim around in hopeless little circles and thought about death. I think that when we get older we numb ourselves and justify our decisions to pass value judgements. Judgements on the life of another. But I saw that life is precious, and it really isn't my decision to let the mouse live or die. But i had to choose anyway. I let it die. But i dont believe that i should have. I believe that i should have let it go, even if it meant letting a diseased mouse breed in my house. It wasn't my decision, so why did it come to me? I suppose even if i let it die, I thought about the fact that it's life really wasn't mine to give or take away. I sat and thought about death while a little mouse drowned. It makes me sad, but if life didn't make us sad sometimes, we wouldn't really be living it. Keep your eyes open, even if it brings tears and fear.

I posted my poem. I am listening to music.
Daft Punk. Epic

Does it ever come to pass
Does it ever need to last?
What the words that live the night
What the day that bleeds through life

Living walking lying talking
Hope for light and wait for night
Its not life its just the fiction
Its not real its just the friction

Ran and fell and run and see
Live to tell and live to be
Right to wrong and give to me
Sacred words becoming free

Faster moves the flying dream
Master of the failing seam
Driving on and stopping then
Moving on and drop the pen

randomness poured forth
something that actually pertains to me?
him. himhimhimhimhimh HIM. scream it and realise it can never be loud enough. lovers bane the space between. endless search.
fulfilled
so much
so happy
i am pleased. i feel so good. The high end of the balance. Nothing else matters.
now is forever when tomorow comes i will still be today

Happy
a useless word,
so why is it so true?

Look at me and tell me that you are happy
Do what you need yet give what you have
Dive in without a thought
I'm feeling for you what i feel for no one.

Live by me and stand by me.
More than i can say i ache.
Lovers bane, the space between.
Dares us to move closer

Lay down next to me
For you i will stay still or
Move with you this night.
Gave you all i could and can

you are not
Like others' vanquished entrances

I am so sick of people making decisions about my life based on what is "right" or "normal." There is no set collection of rules about what is right and wrong. There is no clear definistion. I am not just one of the mob, to be controled by the fables of our society. If you don't know me, then fuck you and what you think i should do. I can make my own decisions. I know that I do not have all the infomation, but i sure have a lot fucking more than you do. You don't know me like i do. You don't evem know yourself the way i know myself.
Do your schoolwork
Respect your parents
Don't Drink
Dont have sex
Don't yell
Don't swear.
How the fuck do you know whats right for me?
A set of social rules, fuck them. Don't try to tell us that our language is bad, that our friends are messed up, that our dancing is inappropriate. If you don't understand us then don't judge us.