there are flowers growing in the sky.
--
this is what the rest of my life in california looks like:
april: oh wait. it's may in 35 minutes.
may:
1) hang out with michelle and the 3, respectively, until time turns over on itself (and whoever else slips into my routine).
2) AP Test. oh wait. screw those.
3) have the house to myself for a few days (everyone but me is going out of town: sister/dad to israel for two weeks, mom/brother to maryland for a week)
4) graduate!
5) pretend like it is not the end. because in one way it is not.
june:
1) wile away the first few days of june doing #1 from may and packing and preparing for europe
2) 4th-28th (or so): europe. all over. i'm excited. and not, i'll be honest. but it will be amazing.
3) 12th: i turn 18 in italy! huzzah.
4) 19th: the new white stripes album comes out! hoorah. i'll buy it in europe, perhaps.
5) probably, i will return and sleep for a few days straight.
JULY:
1) refer to #1 from may and june
2) 7th: OH WAIT CAN IT BE? THE DECEMBERISTS CONCERT! WITH MICHELLE/ANNA/ANNA/JAMES! (hopefully harley, anyway)
3) 13th: ORDER OF THE PHOENIX! the harry potter july madness begins.
4) 21st: the beginning of the end of a huge part of my life. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. oh man. i dread the last page. i may actually cry (something i rarely do).
5) stop sounding so trite already.
august:
1) the usual 1
2) pack for reed
3) --------- i will not say it.
if i kiss you where it's sore, will you feel better?
--
suddenly the sky is dark and clocks all around my head are melting like love in the summer sun.
lord. here it goes.
28 April 2007
when i woke up my love
katie b. came over today.
and we recorded two songs.
we did redid "in and out of everything" and we worked on/recorded "brick walls" (aka "wake up my love"). they sound really good!
yeah.
just remember your mother's words: we're all falling in and out of everything.
--
i had extensive fun yesterday at the orchestra festival and afterwards. i do love those children, i do.
and we recorded two songs.
we did redid "in and out of everything" and we worked on/recorded "brick walls" (aka "wake up my love"). they sound really good!
yeah.
just remember your mother's words: we're all falling in and out of everything.
--
i had extensive fun yesterday at the orchestra festival and afterwards. i do love those children, i do.
when i addressed james and quoted extensively from the Good Book (not the bible)
james, you are a part of the intellegencia in plenty more ways than one. and you play a damn beautiful cello (i don't mean aesthetically, i mean musically). and from what i've read, your poetry, however often you produce it, is far from mediocre. in case you truly don't know that, it's really really really really really really really really really really really really really good. and it says some important things, which makes it even more really really really really really really good.
but, in case you're not convinced...
[james: mikey, i'm not convinced.
mikey: meh, eh...*demonstrates empty care cup*. aw just kidding, i care.]
...i have pulled up some valuable passages from the good Book of Intelligencia, written far before our time, but in English, thank the lord.
and i quote from the Book of Intelligencia:
page 823, section XXI, paragraph 2a:
"you question yourself and insecurities about your value to this world arise in the form of a poetic-prosaic whirlwind of self-doubt, comparing yourself to others around you in a self-deprecating manner. and the irony is that you dismiss your poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent] value in a manner that merely reinforces your poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent]. you say you are not poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent] in a manner which IS poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent]. oh, the irony."
paragraph 4c:
"you dismiss your talents as irrelevant (though they clearly are not) and claim you have lost the ability to perform them."
page 845, section II, paragraph 5d:
"you apologize to those you see you as equals, though your equality is a fact, not a disputable opion."
page 1003, section IV, paragraph 3e:
"in the occasional case of the true intelligencia, you state, boldly and completely, that you are at a total lack of passion, opinion, strength, and talent, when a mere glance into everything you create and pour your heart into would easily convince you otherwise."
page 2375, section VIII, paragraph 6j, on foolery:
"the only way you are a fool is by thinking you are a fool...in no other way are you a fool and not a member of the intelligencia but for thinking that the exact opposite is true."
page 4983, the epilogue:
"your care cup is full for all of those around you that you love and that love you."
and, of course, you can't forget the inscription on the cover of the book:
"we are who we are without realizing who we are:
we think, therefore we are:
we are nothing without anything:
we are art, beauty, life, and death."
c'est tout.
swarthmore is lucky to have you, jamesy. very, very lucky. it's not just some slight of chance that you got in and that you felt at home there. you're going there because you belong there, amongst a plethora of other talented people, all of them filled, like you, with the Life Poetic.
but, in case you're not convinced...
[james: mikey, i'm not convinced.
mikey: meh, eh...*demonstrates empty care cup*. aw just kidding, i care.]
...i have pulled up some valuable passages from the good Book of Intelligencia, written far before our time, but in English, thank the lord.
and i quote from the Book of Intelligencia:
page 823, section XXI, paragraph 2a:
"you question yourself and insecurities about your value to this world arise in the form of a poetic-prosaic whirlwind of self-doubt, comparing yourself to others around you in a self-deprecating manner. and the irony is that you dismiss your poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent] value in a manner that merely reinforces your poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent]. you say you are not poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent] in a manner which IS poetic/artistic/creative/[insert talent]. oh, the irony."
paragraph 4c:
"you dismiss your talents as irrelevant (though they clearly are not) and claim you have lost the ability to perform them."
page 845, section II, paragraph 5d:
"you apologize to those you see you as equals, though your equality is a fact, not a disputable opion."
page 1003, section IV, paragraph 3e:
"in the occasional case of the true intelligencia, you state, boldly and completely, that you are at a total lack of passion, opinion, strength, and talent, when a mere glance into everything you create and pour your heart into would easily convince you otherwise."
page 2375, section VIII, paragraph 6j, on foolery:
"the only way you are a fool is by thinking you are a fool...in no other way are you a fool and not a member of the intelligencia but for thinking that the exact opposite is true."
page 4983, the epilogue:
"your care cup is full for all of those around you that you love and that love you."
and, of course, you can't forget the inscription on the cover of the book:
"we are who we are without realizing who we are:
we think, therefore we are:
we are nothing without anything:
we are art, beauty, life, and death."
c'est tout.
swarthmore is lucky to have you, jamesy. very, very lucky. it's not just some slight of chance that you got in and that you felt at home there. you're going there because you belong there, amongst a plethora of other talented people, all of them filled, like you, with the Life Poetic.
26 April 2007
when i wasn't frustrated anymore and discovered sufjan stevens (finally!)
i found the reed thing. well. my mom had it all along. i just didn't know that.
so it is official. at last.
and i cleaned up my room real nicely. threw some things away. put all my clothes in drawers/closet. i feel fresh.
--
cds i have bought recently:
arctic monkeys - favourite worst nightmare (amazing)
muse - black holes and revelations (rocking)
sufjan stevens - illinoise (now i see what michelle's been raving about)
ok yeah that's about it.
so it is official. at last.
and i cleaned up my room real nicely. threw some things away. put all my clothes in drawers/closet. i feel fresh.
--
cds i have bought recently:
arctic monkeys - favourite worst nightmare (amazing)
muse - black holes and revelations (rocking)
sufjan stevens - illinoise (now i see what michelle's been raving about)
ok yeah that's about it.
when i ran around the house in a fiery stupor
things are not well (on a very surface level). it's making me very nervous. for one thing, nothing is in order. my room is a mess. not to the casual eye. but i have random stacks of books all over my room. i have trash scattered here and there. the only two functioning drawers of my desk are filled to bursting with shit i probably don't need.
and on top of it all, i can't find my reed acceptance packet! i need to mail in the yes i'm coming thing, and i can't fucking find it! i tore the house apart for the last 30 minutes looking for it: my room, the kitchen, mom's office. i have NO fucking clue where it could be, unelss it was thrown away. in which case. fuck.
fjdkaljfeia.
anyway, the new arctic monkeys cd is phenomenal.
and on top of it all, i can't find my reed acceptance packet! i need to mail in the yes i'm coming thing, and i can't fucking find it! i tore the house apart for the last 30 minutes looking for it: my room, the kitchen, mom's office. i have NO fucking clue where it could be, unelss it was thrown away. in which case. fuck.
fjdkaljfeia.
anyway, the new arctic monkeys cd is phenomenal.
22 April 2007
when i was artistic
i'd say i did 99% of this. all my brother added was "what is...?" and the SOS. he's a cool kid, by the way, i don't know if you know that. my brother, i mean.
yeah. the line on the boat is from this picture i took last summer while on a boat:
when i wrote a(nother) poem, part II and finished the senior project!
"mind tunnels"
in this moment,
moment(ous),
so prolix we are,
simple mind tunnels,
thoughts like light
project our insides
back and forth -
as i just dare you
to agree with me that
a day is a week is a month
is a year;
without blindness we are
not
illuminated beings,
and every second of mine
dictates the first of yours,
and my next.
but with faith's little footsteps
you run parallel to me
and with my words
all connected and light
as darkness
i pull you to me.
if only for now.
--
and i announce that i have officially finished (bullshitting) the senior project. all i have to do is actually record the stuff now.
in this moment,
moment(ous),
so prolix we are,
simple mind tunnels,
thoughts like light
project our insides
back and forth -
as i just dare you
to agree with me that
a day is a week is a month
is a year;
without blindness we are
not
illuminated beings,
and every second of mine
dictates the first of yours,
and my next.
but with faith's little footsteps
you run parallel to me
and with my words
all connected and light
as darkness
i pull you to me.
if only for now.
--
and i announce that i have officially finished (bullshitting) the senior project. all i have to do is actually record the stuff now.
when i wrote a(nother) poem
"there are more strangers here"
sweating like chaos,
i go running over the hills
fleeing all that has
chased me,
intangibly
and changed me
retroactively
into this heathen-type;
half horse, half wolf,
whole man.
there are more strangers here
than in the
underworld -
the other side of
mossy knolls -
here, my platonic line pushing
dear -
grasses are greener
than all rosemary,
roses red like bleeding
soldiers,
and every sun
brighter than night
is black
and flammable to your soul.
sweating like chaos,
i go running over the hills
fleeing all that has
chased me,
intangibly
and changed me
retroactively
into this heathen-type;
half horse, half wolf,
whole man.
there are more strangers here
than in the
underworld -
the other side of
mossy knolls -
here, my platonic line pushing
dear -
grasses are greener
than all rosemary,
roses red like bleeding
soldiers,
and every sun
brighter than night
is black
and flammable to your soul.
17 April 2007
15 April 2007
when i was not happy but then was happy part III
not happy:
1. senior project (fuck. i bullshat the entire powerpoint but nothing else)
2. lit project (i have done 0% of it)
3. i do not feel well at all and i do think i shall attend school tomorrow.
fuck fuck fuck. allford fuck. i mean, i don't hate her like the triumvirate. but they have reasons to! but still! i mean, it's the end of senior year. who cares? and we have to do all this project shit? damnit all. i mean, even my AP Spanish class has less work. goddamnit all. and it's all pointless. i don't mind doing work if it's actually credible. but this is pointless, in all reality.
happy part III
1. "everything i try to do, nothing seems to turn out right" by the decemberists. story of my life. but the song itself makes me happy.
2. being certified as officially amazing by the 3. "that is what she said!"
c'est tout for now.
more happy:
eli the barrow boy and the heating pack on my stomach, which isn't making me feel entirely better but it is somewhat warm (it is in need of being reheated) and feels comfortable.
1. senior project (fuck. i bullshat the entire powerpoint but nothing else)
2. lit project (i have done 0% of it)
3. i do not feel well at all and i do think i shall attend school tomorrow.
fuck fuck fuck. allford fuck. i mean, i don't hate her like the triumvirate. but they have reasons to! but still! i mean, it's the end of senior year. who cares? and we have to do all this project shit? damnit all. i mean, even my AP Spanish class has less work. goddamnit all. and it's all pointless. i don't mind doing work if it's actually credible. but this is pointless, in all reality.
happy part III
1. "everything i try to do, nothing seems to turn out right" by the decemberists. story of my life. but the song itself makes me happy.
2. being certified as officially amazing by the 3. "that is what she said!"
c'est tout for now.
more happy:
eli the barrow boy and the heating pack on my stomach, which isn't making me feel entirely better but it is somewhat warm (it is in need of being reheated) and feels comfortable.
when i was happy part II
the past two weeks have been imbued with listening to the arcade fire and regina spektor.
i just put on "sunshine", followed by "july, july", and now "red right ankle".
i really forgot how incredibly happy and alive the decemberists make me feel.
"and so it goes that everybody wants their shoes to be sunshine"
what would make me infinitely happier is to go see them at the hollywood bowl on july 7 with the triumvirate and michelle. lord that would bring tears to my smiling face.
i just put on "sunshine", followed by "july, july", and now "red right ankle".
i really forgot how incredibly happy and alive the decemberists make me feel.
"and so it goes that everybody wants their shoes to be sunshine"
what would make me infinitely happier is to go see them at the hollywood bowl on july 7 with the triumvirate and michelle. lord that would bring tears to my smiling face.
when i was happy
things that, despite the amount of lit homework i have to bullshit by tomorrow, are making me happy:
1. "samson" is my top played song on last.fm, with 16 play counts. 17, if you include the fact that i'm listening to it right now. that means that it beats out all my other favorites, like "engine driver", "santa maria de la feira", "stop i'm already dead", "lover you should've come over", etc. now that i think of it:
2. regina spektor makes me very very happy, for many reasons. one: she is amazing and amazing. two: she inspires me to write songs, which is really good. in the one week i've been listening to her, i've already written 2.5 songs.
3. the triumvirate and i had a sleepover on friday night and that was fun, quite fun. we all watched will and grace and fell asleep (except harley).
4. the savoy truffle cafe in santa barbara, which i found out about through harley. it makes me happy because i realize that the beatles are still alive and beautiful in all corners of the world.
5. despite the fact that he's dead, vonnegut makes me happy. i'm glad that he lived to be an old man and that we (the reader collective) have had the opportunity to read his brilliance. that makes me very happy. and, of course, so it goes.
6. i'm nearly done reading "the brief history of the dead", which is really good. not as amazing as i had expected (it's nowhere near on par with any Foers or Unbearable Lightness or History of Love or Marquez), but it is a really good book. the story is very interesting and draws me in really tight so that i just can't wait for the next chapter to see what happens.
7. i am working on two stories; both of them include my developing alter-ego, Salem Chatham/Wordsmith (he doesn't have a definite last name). in the first story, he's not so much my alter ego. but in the second one i think he is. like how vonnegut had Kilgore Trout. though i started writing the first story way before he died. but yeah.
8. i went to brents with castro and james. james had to leave, with the intention of coming back, so castro and i whiled away the time philosophizing and examining different constrasting points of view on religion, life, death, love, and all things ephemeral. that conversation made me really happy, because i know virtually no one else that i could have had a conversation that intellectually imbued with thought and power (i say virtually because there are a few others; we just haven't had it yet). it's so illuminating when you can sit and discuss with someone your points of view and have them be so well versed in intellect that you can agree 100% with them while still holding steady to your views. beauty.
9. the weather is perfect.
1. "samson" is my top played song on last.fm, with 16 play counts. 17, if you include the fact that i'm listening to it right now. that means that it beats out all my other favorites, like "engine driver", "santa maria de la feira", "stop i'm already dead", "lover you should've come over", etc. now that i think of it:
2. regina spektor makes me very very happy, for many reasons. one: she is amazing and amazing. two: she inspires me to write songs, which is really good. in the one week i've been listening to her, i've already written 2.5 songs.
3. the triumvirate and i had a sleepover on friday night and that was fun, quite fun. we all watched will and grace and fell asleep (except harley).
4. the savoy truffle cafe in santa barbara, which i found out about through harley. it makes me happy because i realize that the beatles are still alive and beautiful in all corners of the world.
5. despite the fact that he's dead, vonnegut makes me happy. i'm glad that he lived to be an old man and that we (the reader collective) have had the opportunity to read his brilliance. that makes me very happy. and, of course, so it goes.
6. i'm nearly done reading "the brief history of the dead", which is really good. not as amazing as i had expected (it's nowhere near on par with any Foers or Unbearable Lightness or History of Love or Marquez), but it is a really good book. the story is very interesting and draws me in really tight so that i just can't wait for the next chapter to see what happens.
7. i am working on two stories; both of them include my developing alter-ego, Salem Chatham/Wordsmith (he doesn't have a definite last name). in the first story, he's not so much my alter ego. but in the second one i think he is. like how vonnegut had Kilgore Trout. though i started writing the first story way before he died. but yeah.
8. i went to brents with castro and james. james had to leave, with the intention of coming back, so castro and i whiled away the time philosophizing and examining different constrasting points of view on religion, life, death, love, and all things ephemeral. that conversation made me really happy, because i know virtually no one else that i could have had a conversation that intellectually imbued with thought and power (i say virtually because there are a few others; we just haven't had it yet). it's so illuminating when you can sit and discuss with someone your points of view and have them be so well versed in intellect that you can agree 100% with them while still holding steady to your views. beauty.
9. the weather is perfect.
12 April 2007
when i did math
to prove that sleep > senior project
sleep = 1000 (don't argue. it just does)
senior project = 0!
0! = 1 (why? no one knows)
by using simple arithemetic, we can thus conclude that:
1000 > 1
sleep > senior project.
in fact.
not doing senior project = 0! + 1001 (1000 for sleep, 1 for being a badass rebel)
senior project = 0!
1001 > 1
not doing senior project > senior project.
other conclusions that can be drawn from above proof:
anna c = 5000000000000
anna h = 5000000000001
10000000000001 > 1
anna + anna DOES NOT = senior project
mikey = 4999999999999
mikey > senior project
mikey DOES NOT = senior project.
duh.
blogger's note: the above post disproves the following:
PePPeRKiTTy29: it's a good thing you are an english major.
despite the fact that i most likely WILL be an english/creative writing, my math is not entirely without merit!
--
ps. and now for some math harley agrees with:
beatles > all.. no. the beatles are greater than anything.
thus:
beatles > ">"
that's right. the beatles are even greater than the > symbol. you cannot beat that, elvis presley!
sleep = 1000 (don't argue. it just does)
senior project = 0!
0! = 1 (why? no one knows)
by using simple arithemetic, we can thus conclude that:
1000 > 1
sleep > senior project.
in fact.
not doing senior project = 0! + 1001 (1000 for sleep, 1 for being a badass rebel)
senior project = 0!
1001 > 1
not doing senior project > senior project.
other conclusions that can be drawn from above proof:
anna c = 5000000000000
anna h = 5000000000001
10000000000001 > 1
anna + anna DOES NOT = senior project
mikey = 4999999999999
mikey > senior project
mikey DOES NOT = senior project.
duh.
blogger's note: the above post disproves the following:
PePPeRKiTTy29: it's a good thing you are an english major.
despite the fact that i most likely WILL be an english/creative writing, my math is not entirely without merit!
--
ps. and now for some math harley agrees with:
thus:
beatles > ">"
that's right. the beatles are even greater than the > symbol. you cannot beat that, elvis presley!
11 April 2007
when i had my first concious loss of an idol of sorts
long live kurt vonnegut (in the minds, hearts, hands, and eyes of many)!
wow. this is the first time that someone i love (in a creative sense, i mean. writer, musician, lo que sea) has died and i am old enough to remember/understand it. i remember when george harrison died, but i wasn't a beatles fan yet back then. but this time around, i can actually feel the loss, you know? lord. lord lord lord.
he just seemed so immortal. i mean, he is, in a sense. because i'll always have his words (which are basically just an extended limb of his own person) on my shelf and in my head.
so it goes.
--
i am in love with regina spektor.
wow. this is the first time that someone i love (in a creative sense, i mean. writer, musician, lo que sea) has died and i am old enough to remember/understand it. i remember when george harrison died, but i wasn't a beatles fan yet back then. but this time around, i can actually feel the loss, you know? lord. lord lord lord.
he just seemed so immortal. i mean, he is, in a sense. because i'll always have his words (which are basically just an extended limb of his own person) on my shelf and in my head.
so it goes.
--
i am in love with regina spektor.
10 April 2007
when i figured out the meaning of life in french
here:
je suis ou je ne suis pas.
c'est tout.
(after me comes the flood)
je suis ou je ne suis pas.
c'est tout.
(after me comes the flood)
09 April 2007
when i solved and defined problems
so i figured it out. what makes it hard for me. for castro.
"with great intelligence and emotional instability comes less than textbook situations of relationships." (i'm quoting myself)
i mean, that's it right there. look at everyone who has managed to have a happy relationship and have it end happy. average intelligence. and if the intelligence is above average, his/her emotional stability is pretty solid.
being a certain kind of intelligent is a burden sometimes. the analytical side of the brain can take over and completely and blindly ignore the obvious signs of the possibility of a successful, healthy relationship.
and just when you finally figure that deluge out, it's time to move on to a completely new place with completely new people, and there is no chance of taking any steps backward; from now on, you must build everything out of nothing.
--
on a separate note, i bullshat and half-assed my hamlet lit review, went to souplantation with the brother (where i managed to sneak him by the cashier, so i didn't pay for him) and splurged at best buy and bought three cds:
1. neon bible - the arcade fire
2. begin to hope - regina spektor
3. yours truly, angry mob - kaiser chiefs
and i am very excited by the new music i am now listening to.
"with great intelligence and emotional instability comes less than textbook situations of relationships." (i'm quoting myself)
i mean, that's it right there. look at everyone who has managed to have a happy relationship and have it end happy. average intelligence. and if the intelligence is above average, his/her emotional stability is pretty solid.
being a certain kind of intelligent is a burden sometimes. the analytical side of the brain can take over and completely and blindly ignore the obvious signs of the possibility of a successful, healthy relationship.
and just when you finally figure that deluge out, it's time to move on to a completely new place with completely new people, and there is no chance of taking any steps backward; from now on, you must build everything out of nothing.
--
on a separate note, i bullshat and half-assed my hamlet lit review, went to souplantation with the brother (where i managed to sneak him by the cashier, so i didn't pay for him) and splurged at best buy and bought three cds:
1. neon bible - the arcade fire
2. begin to hope - regina spektor
3. yours truly, angry mob - kaiser chiefs
and i am very excited by the new music i am now listening to.
when the dashboard melted
just like everything:
the new modest mouse cd. at first i did not like it. it was too...i don't know. i liked Dashboard a lot. that song rocked. then slowly the rest of the songs began to grow on me. We've Got Everything. Florida. Fire It Up. Parting of the Sensory. the cd is just actually really amazing.
things are sometimes incredible: at first, you just like this one thing or another about something, and then slowly, through repeated exposure and general good times, you slowly realize how much you love the rest of it.
someday you will die and somehow someone's gonna steal your carbon.
and now it is just about twelve thirty am on the day that school begins again and i find myself sitting here and honestly what i want to do more than anything in the world is read. starting now and going as long as i can, until i finish every book on my personal reading list. forget school. forget food. forget the beauty of life, for it is all contained within my pages of fiction. my escape. my prism of reality.
oh yeah and one more time fuck hamlet and its lit review.
the new modest mouse cd. at first i did not like it. it was too...i don't know. i liked Dashboard a lot. that song rocked. then slowly the rest of the songs began to grow on me. We've Got Everything. Florida. Fire It Up. Parting of the Sensory. the cd is just actually really amazing.
things are sometimes incredible: at first, you just like this one thing or another about something, and then slowly, through repeated exposure and general good times, you slowly realize how much you love the rest of it.
someday you will die and somehow someone's gonna steal your carbon.
and now it is just about twelve thirty am on the day that school begins again and i find myself sitting here and honestly what i want to do more than anything in the world is read. starting now and going as long as i can, until i finish every book on my personal reading list. forget school. forget food. forget the beauty of life, for it is all contained within my pages of fiction. my escape. my prism of reality.
oh yeah and one more time fuck hamlet and its lit review.
07 April 2007
when i wrote a poem explaining everything
do you really think
i do not know
who i am?
i am the poet!
given quick birth
from the mind's sky -
deaf to light
and blind to sound, &
after me,
the earth will fill
with the tears of the wordless
and their cries will flood
our clandestine
comprehension,
and we will drown.
yes, oh holy serpentine
doubters,
you who give me shape
with no body,
face with no features,
mouth with no tongue,
how sharp you are, crystal mind usurpers.
oh, pity me.
and now i have to go bullshit my hamlet lit review.
i do not know
who i am?
i am the poet!
given quick birth
from the mind's sky -
deaf to light
and blind to sound, &
after me,
the earth will fill
with the tears of the wordless
and their cries will flood
our clandestine
comprehension,
and we will drown.
yes, oh holy serpentine
doubters,
you who give me shape
with no body,
face with no features,
mouth with no tongue,
how sharp you are, crystal mind usurpers.
oh, pity me.
and now i have to go bullshit my hamlet lit review.
06 April 2007
when i built a wall around myself
so i realized i have a conflicting philosophy, and that at the core of it all i live in my own city with unbreakable and unbendable walls and only tiny door.
i say to cherish memories you have even if you physically can't take anything with you, even if it leaves you upset in the end, because it's selfish to do anything else. it's selfish to just abandon love if you can't reap any tangible rewards from it.
but then again, i feel so solidary in and out of my own head, and i've realized that i live alone in my own existence with few visitors.
even though my outer walls may brush up against the walls of others, all i can hear is the beating of my own heart and the pulsing of my own mind.
i am the solipsist.
i say to cherish memories you have even if you physically can't take anything with you, even if it leaves you upset in the end, because it's selfish to do anything else. it's selfish to just abandon love if you can't reap any tangible rewards from it.
but then again, i feel so solidary in and out of my own head, and i've realized that i live alone in my own existence with few visitors.
even though my outer walls may brush up against the walls of others, all i can hear is the beating of my own heart and the pulsing of my own mind.
i am the solipsist.
05 April 2007
when i had thoughts and was mad
everything that happens is everything and somehow adds up to the sum of now.
nothing was, is, or will ever be for naught.
our hearts, minds, and memories are not physical storage spaces with a set limit; the amount of room we have is entirely unlimited, and it is up to us what we keep and what we discard.
now is not one moment we are living by detaching ourselves from then, the past. now is what we are living because we allowed ourselves to soak up every single moment of the past that brought us here. if we were to impede that natural flow of things, where we live now as a sum of then, we would simply breathe no more and die. the only way to abandon yesterday is to also abandon tomorrow and any hope of any future. every moment that we live, including those times where it is one moment after the next, is moving on. we are always moving on. moving on does not have to include forgetting. that's the opposite of moving on. that's moving sideways, which, while perhaps getting you away from the fact that you cannot for the life of you accept the movement of things, moves you anywhere but forward, which is the only direction in which to move on. moving on, in fact, completely encompasses taking everything you've ever cherished with you, and incorporating it, one way or another, into where you move on to. otherwise, moving on is pointless. being happy is pointless. making friends, love, money, memories is pointless. living becomes fucking pointless if you think that moving on somehow entails forgetting everything about where you came from and what made you feel truly alive and full of holy breath.
so keep close to your heart what feels like it is close to heart (because it probably is). don't feel like you have to make room for whatever comes next, as if it is somehow more important that what has happened.
never ever forget anything that made you feel even the slightest bit alive, because life is those moments, and death is deserting them.
and hold on to how everything made you feel at first. don't change the mantra of love to love just beacuse you are afraid to love because it entails not only love, but loss, heartache, longing, and sadness. so the fuck what? love because you can, and never ever forget that. never abandon those things that made your eyes shine with the vigor of life and made your chest swell like a parachute in the spring. there is no goddamn reason on to force yourself to forget all of those things that make you happy and alive when life is already so ephemeral, anyway.
nothing.
everything is everything.
ps. how can you just abandon the most beautiful things in life just because the pain they may cause you is rooted in their very own eternal beauty? never be afraid of the future, because it will come no matter what you do to fight it, and it will turn in to the past, with or without you. you might as well take all you can with it.
nothing was, is, or will ever be for naught.
our hearts, minds, and memories are not physical storage spaces with a set limit; the amount of room we have is entirely unlimited, and it is up to us what we keep and what we discard.
now is not one moment we are living by detaching ourselves from then, the past. now is what we are living because we allowed ourselves to soak up every single moment of the past that brought us here. if we were to impede that natural flow of things, where we live now as a sum of then, we would simply breathe no more and die. the only way to abandon yesterday is to also abandon tomorrow and any hope of any future. every moment that we live, including those times where it is one moment after the next, is moving on. we are always moving on. moving on does not have to include forgetting. that's the opposite of moving on. that's moving sideways, which, while perhaps getting you away from the fact that you cannot for the life of you accept the movement of things, moves you anywhere but forward, which is the only direction in which to move on. moving on, in fact, completely encompasses taking everything you've ever cherished with you, and incorporating it, one way or another, into where you move on to. otherwise, moving on is pointless. being happy is pointless. making friends, love, money, memories is pointless. living becomes fucking pointless if you think that moving on somehow entails forgetting everything about where you came from and what made you feel truly alive and full of holy breath.
so keep close to your heart what feels like it is close to heart (because it probably is). don't feel like you have to make room for whatever comes next, as if it is somehow more important that what has happened.
never ever forget anything that made you feel even the slightest bit alive, because life is those moments, and death is deserting them.
and hold on to how everything made you feel at first. don't change the mantra of love to love just beacuse you are afraid to love because it entails not only love, but loss, heartache, longing, and sadness. so the fuck what? love because you can, and never ever forget that. never abandon those things that made your eyes shine with the vigor of life and made your chest swell like a parachute in the spring. there is no goddamn reason on to force yourself to forget all of those things that make you happy and alive when life is already so ephemeral, anyway.
nothing.
everything is everything.
ps. how can you just abandon the most beautiful things in life just because the pain they may cause you is rooted in their very own eternal beauty? never be afraid of the future, because it will come no matter what you do to fight it, and it will turn in to the past, with or without you. you might as well take all you can with it.
when i treated it like a diary (and split one post into two)
today was fun. i could go into detail, but it was an enjoyable passing of time. both parts of the day. i read the entirety of metamorphosis and actually legitimately annotated it (a deep contrast from all my other Lit annotations), and then i spent the second half of the day with castro and james at barnes and nobel, where i bought
[1. extremely loud and incredibly close
2. catch 22
3. persuasion nation]
and then went to the coral tree cafe and we avoided talking about the separating of the web (though we briefly alluded to it, i'm sure) and we all talked about sex and anna's chest. and how we all met each other, and how i knew all of them before the triumvirate even formed, which i feel neat about, and how we'd all keep it together. and castro began to get superior and egotistical and snapped at james and i a few times, which was okay, i guess, because i know she doesn't mean, and for some reason i love her all the more for it. besides, i completely got her back (i don't remember how) and told her never to snap at me again. triumph for the moment.
we then met up with abby and aline at a sketchy and nonexistent party, and after leaving in a hurry headed over to blue cafe.
--
i hate treating this thing like a fucking diary. who cares what went on during the hours of the day? i'm just tired of going over how much things are changing.
but people are fading. did i mention that? they really are. jamba has become so unreal. she only exists as fog. a lot of other people are dissolving, too. it's basically the triumvirate and michelle that are still 100% real. and tina, she's pretty real too. yeah. it's strange. things are so surreal. it's not like i don't care about them, or that i'm trying to sever my ties with them. it's just that their actions become less meaningless, and much less matters at this point.
but i bought the new kings of leon album yesterday (with emily) and i am very delighted about it. it's so good! some of the lyrics don't make much sense, but that's the kings of leon for ya. and now i have traffic school tomorrow (today?) from eigh to four because i was caught speeding. wah.
i half thought about deleting this entry.
[1. extremely loud and incredibly close
2. catch 22
3. persuasion nation]
and then went to the coral tree cafe and we avoided talking about the separating of the web (though we briefly alluded to it, i'm sure) and we all talked about sex and anna's chest. and how we all met each other, and how i knew all of them before the triumvirate even formed, which i feel neat about, and how we'd all keep it together. and castro began to get superior and egotistical and snapped at james and i a few times, which was okay, i guess, because i know she doesn't mean, and for some reason i love her all the more for it. besides, i completely got her back (i don't remember how) and told her never to snap at me again. triumph for the moment.
we then met up with abby and aline at a sketchy and nonexistent party, and after leaving in a hurry headed over to blue cafe.
--
i hate treating this thing like a fucking diary. who cares what went on during the hours of the day? i'm just tired of going over how much things are changing.
but people are fading. did i mention that? they really are. jamba has become so unreal. she only exists as fog. a lot of other people are dissolving, too. it's basically the triumvirate and michelle that are still 100% real. and tina, she's pretty real too. yeah. it's strange. things are so surreal. it's not like i don't care about them, or that i'm trying to sever my ties with them. it's just that their actions become less meaningless, and much less matters at this point.
but i bought the new kings of leon album yesterday (with emily) and i am very delighted about it. it's so good! some of the lyrics don't make much sense, but that's the kings of leon for ya. and now i have traffic school tomorrow (today?) from eigh to four because i was caught speeding. wah.
i half thought about deleting this entry.
when i regretted, but only sort of
i am feeling lamentatious (is that a word).
let me say that again.
i am feeling slightly regretful that i am doing this one thing with this one girl instead of with another girl, and for many reasons. first off, the girl i'm actually doing the thing with is a dead end. and it would mean so much more with the other girl. for me, anyway. and i'm sure for her.
as they say: "oh well." or do they say that? perhaps it is more like "--." and a sad face. or perhaps "i can change things" but they sit there and do nothing. who are they, anyway? and why are they always saying things? fucking do something for once.
let me say that again.
i am feeling slightly regretful that i am doing this one thing with this one girl instead of with another girl, and for many reasons. first off, the girl i'm actually doing the thing with is a dead end. and it would mean so much more with the other girl. for me, anyway. and i'm sure for her.
as they say: "oh well." or do they say that? perhaps it is more like "--." and a sad face. or perhaps "i can change things" but they sit there and do nothing. who are they, anyway? and why are they always saying things? fucking do something for once.
04 April 2007
when i felt empty and thought books would fill it
books i need to reread in order to feel closer to things:
1. extremely loud and incredibly close
2. the unbearable lightness of being
3. everything is illuminated
4. the history of love
5. love in the time of cholera
6. one hundred years of solitude.
fuck. i don't have the time to go plowing through old books, books whose surfaces i have already scratched and touched and given my all-seeing attention.
i want to read new things.
but i feel like i must read them to move on somehow. from something. especially #s 1 and 2.
and since the only version of extremely loud that i have is the one i bought in sweden (i gave my original copy [it's so original that it doesn't even have any reviews on the cover] to my grandmother awhile ago and haven't gotten it back yet), i have to go to borders now and buy it, which makes me happy, in a way. i love buying books.
1. extremely loud and incredibly close
2. the unbearable lightness of being
3. everything is illuminated
4. the history of love
5. love in the time of cholera
6. one hundred years of solitude.
fuck. i don't have the time to go plowing through old books, books whose surfaces i have already scratched and touched and given my all-seeing attention.
i want to read new things.
but i feel like i must read them to move on somehow. from something. especially #s 1 and 2.
and since the only version of extremely loud that i have is the one i bought in sweden (i gave my original copy [it's so original that it doesn't even have any reviews on the cover] to my grandmother awhile ago and haven't gotten it back yet), i have to go to borders now and buy it, which makes me happy, in a way. i love buying books.
03 April 2007
when i responded to ms harley and plugged myself and when everyone was who i want
harley,
i shall number the things you talked about so that i can reference them much more easily. some of them i will not talk about at all. but i will say honest things that will hopefully make you smile, for your soul is rainy right now. although i may crack a joke here and there.
1. lose 10 pounds
2. the endings of all your romantic possibilities
3. thinking for yourself
4. having a job
5. senior project (may i just say right now: fuck that shit)
6. high school
7. the loves of your life
8. new york
9. california
10. missing people.
here we go.
1. remember how i said you were humble, and that i'd let slip complements here and there when appropriate? honest complements, i mean, not just bullshit ones. well i want you to know that i think you are beautiful, and that is all i shall say for now.
2. you should not so quickly discount any romantic possibilities, even though september looms ever nearer and you and whoever-he-may-be will be pulled away geographically. and yes, you were hurt, and yes, i'm fairly certain all of us want to crush him (to be said in borat voice), but it doesn't always have to be for naught: happiness does not always end in pain. usually in melancholy. but not always in pain. be cautious, ms harley, but if you feel like someone or something presents itself perfectly in front of you as if it couldn't get any better or make any more sense, allow yourself to step forward into whatever spotlight shines on you. you deserve it, you know. to finish high school happy in any sense of the word.
3. you think wonderfully. and actually i don't remember exactly what you said, so i'll skip this one.
4. having a job is fun but overrated. besides, freshman year will be a workload, and you won't want a job. my advice? find a little rich boy who will pay for everything of yours. that's totally facetious (well, not totally...). i think you should be a librarian. but that's just me.
5. senior project is bullshit and should die in a fire.
6. how can you immortalize high school in words? i suppose you could; castro and james already did, and i plan to do so as well. try and remember the pretty times, though. when smiling was as natural taking that first morning breath.
7. the loves of your life. castro and james. there is no way the three of you will be separated. physically...perhaps. but the sheer power of the three of you combined cannot be matched or torn apart. i am jealous of you three, if you really want to know. i really am. and i'm glad i've been able to hang out with you guys a bit more this semester than before and sort of wend my way into the outer shell of your guys' inner heart.
8. new york is great, i agree, but a bitch of a winter. and it's for adults, anyway. not college kids. i have a feeling that all four of us (you/anna/james and then i) will end up in new york at one point. we all seem to have that wintry disposition that forces us to write. it's very new york. very artsy. plus i mean...well, no one's there anymore. they just used to be. like Karen O. and Mary Kate and Ashley Olson.
9. California is wonderful to want to get away from, but listen to "California" by Joni Mitchell. Or listen to Los Angeles, I'm Yours or California (by Rufus). Or Shores of California by the Dresden Dolls. And if you do end up staying here, you can be our reason for coming back to visit aside from obligatory family holidays, and that would be lovely. although go up north a bit. los angeles has gotten rather boring. but i firmly believe that you will end up where you belong and you will be happier than you've ever been (that you can be without anna and james [and then i]). and if you're not happy, i'll give you my decemberist dvd to cheer you up and make you smile and maybe cry if you listen to the engine driver, which i think makes all of us cry inside. i'm rambling now, i can feel it.
10. missing people. lord. we can't miss each other yet. not like this. especially you three. and i perhaps include myself. we all have nearly four months together. and we will all come up to canada during july and sing "july july!" over and over again and i'm determined to meet your crooked french canadian uncle. but you will miss anna, she will miss you, who will miss james, who you will also miss, who will miss you, and perhaps you will all miss me; i know i will miss the three of you greatly. we will all miss each other. it's sad. but let's all worry about that when the time comes for true goodbyes.
for now, enjoy canada and all it really doesn't have to offer. it's kind of like talking to the more boring of two twins, i suppose.
-mikey salem
--
on a completely separate note i wrote a new story: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2343120/1/ (it's called "bold and daring children"). you may read it if you wish.
and i realized another thing as i was driving home today, and that is that everyone is who i want. i shall limit everyone to the triumvirate, the three of which are the three of the people i have ever felt the most similar to. there are a few others, of course. but never did i think i'd meet three people (all in my lit class!) that [through some weird web that had me separately connected to all three of them before they became themselves (castro through AP Euro, harley through robby, james through ancheta's class)] that were as similar to me as people come. i can never overshadow their own internal connection. it's far beyond that of which i've ever had with more than one person (my connection with michelle is probably the strongest thing i have and have ever had. she's undoubtedly the best friend i've ever had [i know you're crying if you're reading this!]); i've never been much of a best-group-of-friends type guy. but these three kids are just...man. brilliant, all three of them. individually and combined. people i can talk to at the level i talk and think on. i don't think we ever realize how much we've affected each other. especially our little book club that unconciously formed amongst us. Foer, Krauss, Kundera, Eggers, Marquez...anyway, i'm digressing. but i think about castro and harley and james and those three are, yes, three very different people, but they are all perfect for me. i mean, excepting the fact james is a boy. but i look at the three of them and i could picture myself being infinitely happy with any one of them, platonically or not. i could imagine being aging solipsistic friends with james forever. castro and i would tear the world apart. harley and i would be able to see the humble beauty in all things. that's why they work. and i work. because i would not change a single goddamn thing about any of them.
not a goddamn thing.
what the hell is happening to everyone?
i shall number the things you talked about so that i can reference them much more easily. some of them i will not talk about at all. but i will say honest things that will hopefully make you smile, for your soul is rainy right now. although i may crack a joke here and there.
1. lose 10 pounds
2. the endings of all your romantic possibilities
3. thinking for yourself
4. having a job
5. senior project (may i just say right now: fuck that shit)
6. high school
7. the loves of your life
8. new york
9. california
10. missing people.
here we go.
1. remember how i said you were humble, and that i'd let slip complements here and there when appropriate? honest complements, i mean, not just bullshit ones. well i want you to know that i think you are beautiful, and that is all i shall say for now.
2. you should not so quickly discount any romantic possibilities, even though september looms ever nearer and you and whoever-he-may-be will be pulled away geographically. and yes, you were hurt, and yes, i'm fairly certain all of us want to crush him (to be said in borat voice), but it doesn't always have to be for naught: happiness does not always end in pain. usually in melancholy. but not always in pain. be cautious, ms harley, but if you feel like someone or something presents itself perfectly in front of you as if it couldn't get any better or make any more sense, allow yourself to step forward into whatever spotlight shines on you. you deserve it, you know. to finish high school happy in any sense of the word.
3. you think wonderfully. and actually i don't remember exactly what you said, so i'll skip this one.
4. having a job is fun but overrated. besides, freshman year will be a workload, and you won't want a job. my advice? find a little rich boy who will pay for everything of yours. that's totally facetious (well, not totally...). i think you should be a librarian. but that's just me.
5. senior project is bullshit and should die in a fire.
6. how can you immortalize high school in words? i suppose you could; castro and james already did, and i plan to do so as well. try and remember the pretty times, though. when smiling was as natural taking that first morning breath.
7. the loves of your life. castro and james. there is no way the three of you will be separated. physically...perhaps. but the sheer power of the three of you combined cannot be matched or torn apart. i am jealous of you three, if you really want to know. i really am. and i'm glad i've been able to hang out with you guys a bit more this semester than before and sort of wend my way into the outer shell of your guys' inner heart.
8. new york is great, i agree, but a bitch of a winter. and it's for adults, anyway. not college kids. i have a feeling that all four of us (you/anna/james and then i) will end up in new york at one point. we all seem to have that wintry disposition that forces us to write. it's very new york. very artsy. plus i mean...well, no one's there anymore. they just used to be. like Karen O. and Mary Kate and Ashley Olson.
9. California is wonderful to want to get away from, but listen to "California" by Joni Mitchell. Or listen to Los Angeles, I'm Yours or California (by Rufus). Or Shores of California by the Dresden Dolls. And if you do end up staying here, you can be our reason for coming back to visit aside from obligatory family holidays, and that would be lovely. although go up north a bit. los angeles has gotten rather boring. but i firmly believe that you will end up where you belong and you will be happier than you've ever been (that you can be without anna and james [and then i]). and if you're not happy, i'll give you my decemberist dvd to cheer you up and make you smile and maybe cry if you listen to the engine driver, which i think makes all of us cry inside. i'm rambling now, i can feel it.
10. missing people. lord. we can't miss each other yet. not like this. especially you three. and i perhaps include myself. we all have nearly four months together. and we will all come up to canada during july and sing "july july!" over and over again and i'm determined to meet your crooked french canadian uncle. but you will miss anna, she will miss you, who will miss james, who you will also miss, who will miss you, and perhaps you will all miss me; i know i will miss the three of you greatly. we will all miss each other. it's sad. but let's all worry about that when the time comes for true goodbyes.
for now, enjoy canada and all it really doesn't have to offer. it's kind of like talking to the more boring of two twins, i suppose.
-
--
on a completely separate note i wrote a new story: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2343120/1/ (it's called "bold and daring children"). you may read it if you wish.
and i realized another thing as i was driving home today, and that is that everyone is who i want. i shall limit everyone to the triumvirate, the three of which are the three of the people i have ever felt the most similar to. there are a few others, of course. but never did i think i'd meet three people (all in my lit class!) that [through some weird web that had me separately connected to all three of them before they became themselves (castro through AP Euro, harley through robby, james through ancheta's class)] that were as similar to me as people come. i can never overshadow their own internal connection. it's far beyond that of which i've ever had with more than one person (my connection with michelle is probably the strongest thing i have and have ever had. she's undoubtedly the best friend i've ever had [i know you're crying if you're reading this!]); i've never been much of a best-group-of-friends type guy. but these three kids are just...man. brilliant, all three of them. individually and combined. people i can talk to at the level i talk and think on. i don't think we ever realize how much we've affected each other. especially our little book club that unconciously formed amongst us. Foer, Krauss, Kundera, Eggers, Marquez...anyway, i'm digressing. but i think about castro and harley and james and those three are, yes, three very different people, but they are all perfect for me. i mean, excepting the fact james is a boy. but i look at the three of them and i could picture myself being infinitely happy with any one of them, platonically or not. i could imagine being aging solipsistic friends with james forever. castro and i would tear the world apart. harley and i would be able to see the humble beauty in all things. that's why they work. and i work. because i would not change a single goddamn thing about any of them.
not a goddamn thing.
what the hell is happening to everyone?
when i wrote a poem in two minutes or less
i began swiftly to end
all traces of the web i
was
birthed into,
so quietly, downstream -
i danced in nylon
and proved the existence of beauty
and the reason of life -
and the beauty of existence
and a life of reason.
before i drowned
in my own
nihilistic escape trap
the
thought of
leaving it all behind
weighed me down
like love in her
darkest hour -
and it pained me
to go, so heavily,
into the sunrise.
---
but! we are not leaving yet, and thus should relish in the time we all still have left together.
i have all intentions as well of going over the last four years, as anna and james did.
it will start like this: headfirst, i was thrown into a world of people i knew but had tried to forget.
i do not know how it will end.
all traces of the web i
was
birthed into,
so quietly, downstream -
i danced in nylon
and proved the existence of beauty
and the reason of life -
and the beauty of existence
and a life of reason.
before i drowned
in my own
nihilistic escape trap
the
thought of
leaving it all behind
weighed me down
like love in her
darkest hour -
and it pained me
to go, so heavily,
into the sunrise.
---
but! we are not leaving yet, and thus should relish in the time we all still have left together.
i have all intentions as well of going over the last four years, as anna and james did.
it will start like this: headfirst, i was thrown into a world of people i knew but had tried to forget.
i do not know how it will end.
when i responded to james
[i commented on his blog.]
your honesty mirrors and challenges mine, james. i too am happy here, despite the fact that i feign such desire to get out of here. if we could only keep all the people together and travel like an absurd sitcom...season one, season two...just continue on, on and on and on and on and never grow apart, only closer, while everyone knows this is how it must be! this is how it must be! but, alas, this is how it must be, and while we will all be alone in our new little places we will all have each other because nothing can ever take back how we all changed and affected each other, and that, my dear dwindling solipsist friend, is beauty. beauty, beauty, beauty.
--
some twisted hand of fate spun this web that somehow brought all of us - everyone and anyone who has ever so much as quivered the delicate nylon - together with the knowledge that one day the web's strength would be tested as we all spread out to different parts of the country, our minds following our bodies, fated to be distracted by everything college has to offer and bequeath upon us, while all the time hoping that we won't be too distracted to forget where and who we came from.
but what is beautiful is that we are always alone, have always been alone, and will always be alone, in the end. it pains me to say and think of how much i'll miss this web of people, but the web is made up of unlimited individuals who all bear the mark of whatever we all had. so this web is truly unescapable, in reality. and who knows what will bring us all back together.
your honesty mirrors and challenges mine, james. i too am happy here, despite the fact that i feign such desire to get out of here. if we could only keep all the people together and travel like an absurd sitcom...season one, season two...just continue on, on and on and on and on and never grow apart, only closer, while everyone knows this is how it must be! this is how it must be! but, alas, this is how it must be, and while we will all be alone in our new little places we will all have each other because nothing can ever take back how we all changed and affected each other, and that, my dear dwindling solipsist friend, is beauty. beauty, beauty, beauty.
--
some twisted hand of fate spun this web that somehow brought all of us - everyone and anyone who has ever so much as quivered the delicate nylon - together with the knowledge that one day the web's strength would be tested as we all spread out to different parts of the country, our minds following our bodies, fated to be distracted by everything college has to offer and bequeath upon us, while all the time hoping that we won't be too distracted to forget where and who we came from.
but what is beautiful is that we are always alone, have always been alone, and will always be alone, in the end. it pains me to say and think of how much i'll miss this web of people, but the web is made up of unlimited individuals who all bear the mark of whatever we all had. so this web is truly unescapable, in reality. and who knows what will bring us all back together.
02 April 2007
when i decided to change my name
mikey is so trite. so immature. so jejune. not really jejune. i was just looking for an opportunity to use that.
no one knows me as anything different and i can't imagine being called another name aside from 'mikey'. but it just feels so ridiculously child-like.
i want a new name altogether. just for now. i don't know if i really do, even. Michael may suit me just fine. or Sirius. or Salem. Yes. i would like to be called salem for a while. see if it fits.
salem.
no one knows me as anything different and i can't imagine being called another name aside from 'mikey'. but it just feels so ridiculously child-like.
i want a new name altogether. just for now. i don't know if i really do, even. Michael may suit me just fine. or Sirius. or Salem. Yes. i would like to be called salem for a while. see if it fits.
salem.
when i couldn't think of another way to respond to things someone said and realized that we are all liquid things and that nothing is permanent
so i read ms castro's last two blog posts and thought they were quite poignant and beautifully, and incredibly vulnerable for her, considering she usually conceals her true emotions towards things and people with layers of wit, arrogance, stoicism, and general tomfoolery (that's by no means a criticism at all, honestly), and i was more or less amazed by how she realized that knowing yourself, strengths, weaknesses, loves, and hates is only half the battle: you have to accept them.
1. i'd like to say to her that i am honored that she mentioned me anywhere at all in her memories of granada, and that i love being a regularly featured member of the triumvirate, and that i wish i would have known that she had a crush on me in 11th grade (and that robby didn't tell me she was crazy) because that would have solved most of both our problems right there. but alas.
2. if i may quote:
"You should love, over and over again, over and over and over and over again... not because you want it to be perfect, and not because you're looking for the perfect person, but because it is what you have to do to grow." Those words should be carved into stone.
3. and in response to "i miss everyone", it's just like holden said (and i've quoted it before): "don't ever tell anybody anything. if you do, you start missing everybody." but is that true? and what's so terrible about missing people? to miss someone is to have your brain be forcefully aware of what someone does to you, how they positively affect you. however, what is interesting is that in anna's case she didn't seem to miss anyone until she started telling people things. maybe holden was right. but we can't just live in our own little spheres and ignore those who orchestrate great impact on our lives. if i told no one about castro or james or harley or michelle or jamba or anyone i've ever met, i would feel so swollen with unrecognized love that i would turn to stone.
and why do i so often reference things castro has said or done? is it too much? i'm sure. i don't know. it's just that, while i say a lot of things, sometimes i feel like what she says is exactly what i've been trying to say but never was able to.
things are changing. i can feel it in the way the leaves fall to the ground or the way the sun parts the clouds early in the morning. what once seemed permanent and solid is now passing and porous, ephemeral. everything is ridiculously fleeting. in four months we will all not be here. everyone will be separated, even those that i thought i would never see apart (the triumvirate, mainly. and me and michelle.) it just seems impossible to think that physically, logistically, we will not be able to hang out, to see each other, to hear each other's voices in person. to see us smile at each other and hug each other and kiss each other and make fun of each other and tease each other and tell castro how i made her arrogant and manipulate headlines with harley and go to woodranch and read michelle's mind and be in jazz band with everyone i've grown so strangely connected to and hang around my starbucks and i can't even think of the unlimited things i will no longer be able to do, that we, as those who are leaving or being left, will not be able to do. it's incredibly overwhelming, the utter temporary way of things. every single fucking thing we are offered is fleeting and will someday soon be gone, in one way or another. but on to another chapter we go, where we shall establish new (and still ephemeral) permanence, only to uproot it four years hence and move on again and again until, who knows, we finally find love and stability; but then, our minds slowly begin to go, and we lose all sembalance of youth and the beauty of the trees in the early morning.
fuck. fuck. fuck. that's what it all comes down to. the movement of one thing to the next.
and now i too miss everyone. everyone and anyone.
where did they all go?
1. i'd like to say to her that i am honored that she mentioned me anywhere at all in her memories of granada, and that i love being a regularly featured member of the triumvirate, and that i wish i would have known that she had a crush on me in 11th grade (and that robby didn't tell me she was crazy) because that would have solved most of both our problems right there. but alas.
2. if i may quote:
"You should love, over and over again, over and over and over and over again... not because you want it to be perfect, and not because you're looking for the perfect person, but because it is what you have to do to grow." Those words should be carved into stone.
3. and in response to "i miss everyone", it's just like holden said (and i've quoted it before): "don't ever tell anybody anything. if you do, you start missing everybody." but is that true? and what's so terrible about missing people? to miss someone is to have your brain be forcefully aware of what someone does to you, how they positively affect you. however, what is interesting is that in anna's case she didn't seem to miss anyone until she started telling people things. maybe holden was right. but we can't just live in our own little spheres and ignore those who orchestrate great impact on our lives. if i told no one about castro or james or harley or michelle or jamba or anyone i've ever met, i would feel so swollen with unrecognized love that i would turn to stone.
and why do i so often reference things castro has said or done? is it too much? i'm sure. i don't know. it's just that, while i say a lot of things, sometimes i feel like what she says is exactly what i've been trying to say but never was able to.
things are changing. i can feel it in the way the leaves fall to the ground or the way the sun parts the clouds early in the morning. what once seemed permanent and solid is now passing and porous, ephemeral. everything is ridiculously fleeting. in four months we will all not be here. everyone will be separated, even those that i thought i would never see apart (the triumvirate, mainly. and me and michelle.) it just seems impossible to think that physically, logistically, we will not be able to hang out, to see each other, to hear each other's voices in person. to see us smile at each other and hug each other and kiss each other and make fun of each other and tease each other and tell castro how i made her arrogant and manipulate headlines with harley and go to woodranch and read michelle's mind and be in jazz band with everyone i've grown so strangely connected to and hang around my starbucks and i can't even think of the unlimited things i will no longer be able to do, that we, as those who are leaving or being left, will not be able to do. it's incredibly overwhelming, the utter temporary way of things. every single fucking thing we are offered is fleeting and will someday soon be gone, in one way or another. but on to another chapter we go, where we shall establish new (and still ephemeral) permanence, only to uproot it four years hence and move on again and again until, who knows, we finally find love and stability; but then, our minds slowly begin to go, and we lose all sembalance of youth and the beauty of the trees in the early morning.
fuck. fuck. fuck. that's what it all comes down to. the movement of one thing to the next.
and now i too miss everyone. everyone and anyone.
where did they all go?
01 April 2007
when i philosophized and thought about certain things
um. my mother was a chinese trapeze artist.
i thought a lot tonight. mostly out loud to amber. and came up with the following parallel (though not quite so) situation in which i comforted myself by knowing that when it happens it will be when it happens.
1. jamba and i have nothing in common, and so she does not see whatever beauty i (apparently) have to offer. she doesn't see me how castro/harley/tina/amber see me. but those four appreciate what i appreciate, or something like that. i have nothing to give her, just like she has nothing to give me (if you know what i mean...oh!). she's cute and all. and we will have the bees knees time at prom, of course. but that is why there is nothing happening, because there is no need for something to happen. there would be no balance. on the other hand
2. sacramento and i shared a ridiculous amount of things in common, none of which i care to go into, as it's all long gone. but she immediately saw me as i saw her. i shan't laud myself with praise, but she really felt something for me, as i did for her, because we were equals. we shared things. she could see straight into my soul. or whatever. but that's why it worked (briefly) with her without any trouble, because we were equals, and she was what i was looking for and i was what she was looking for.
i comfort myself with that knowledge.
what i have realized (through philosophizing with a brightly burning flame) is that in the end, everything will be alright. sure, solipsism is relieving, existentialism preoccupying, nihilism justifying. but when all of those philosphies burn to the ground, all we are left with is the hope, the vain vain vain vain vain hope, that everything will be alright. it's all we can cling to. and things will work out in the end. they have to. otherwise, life will have been for naught, completely unfounded and without reason. in which case, why even exist in the first place? all of life may be complete shit, but one moment, one love, one breath, one morning, will make it all worth it. that one moment (however long it may be...a minute or a year or ten, twenty, thirty years) will give life reason to exist and will germinate the seed of life and beauty will blossom in all corners of the young green earth and life will seem for aught and a smile will caress your golden lips and you will feel immortal, powerful, unbreakable; capable of disturbing the universe.
and when i created a school of philosophy discounting the idea of schools of philosophy:
Slight Bread: i mean the truth is that we all have our own philosophy that is only applicable to us and no one else
Slight Bread: sure, what works for me could generally work for you. we're somewhat similar. but you and i don't have the same philosophy in everything
Slight Bread: nor does anyone
Slight Bread: what works for, i don't know, allford, probably wouldn't work for, i dont' know, james.
Slight Bread: general schools of philosophy are interesting, but everyone develops their own school of thought in the end by combining outside influence with personal instincts
to Burn Brightly: yeah. thats why i believe in a subjective view of the universe rather than an objective one.
Slight Bread: mhm
Slight Bread: and of truth, as well
Slight Bread: truth is how we perceive it as truth.
to Burn Brightly: yeah. and nothing ever really stays the same.
Slight Bread: undoubtedly
Slight Bread: you'll wake up tomorrow feeling better than you feel now, emotionally
Slight Bread: so, which was the truth? tonight or tomorrow morning?
Slight Bread: or both?
to Burn Brightly: i always feel its both. but maybe truth is only now.
Slight Bread: yeah.
Slight Bread: i mean, how can you argue with how you feel?
to Burn Brightly: you can't. not logically. because emotion is inherently irrational.
Slight Bread: exactly.
i thought a lot tonight. mostly out loud to amber. and came up with the following parallel (though not quite so) situation in which i comforted myself by knowing that when it happens it will be when it happens.
1. jamba and i have nothing in common, and so she does not see whatever beauty i (apparently) have to offer. she doesn't see me how castro/harley/tina/amber see me. but those four appreciate what i appreciate, or something like that. i have nothing to give her, just like she has nothing to give me (if you know what i mean...oh!). she's cute and all. and we will have the bees knees time at prom, of course. but that is why there is nothing happening, because there is no need for something to happen. there would be no balance. on the other hand
2. sacramento and i shared a ridiculous amount of things in common, none of which i care to go into, as it's all long gone. but she immediately saw me as i saw her. i shan't laud myself with praise, but she really felt something for me, as i did for her, because we were equals. we shared things. she could see straight into my soul. or whatever. but that's why it worked (briefly) with her without any trouble, because we were equals, and she was what i was looking for and i was what she was looking for.
i comfort myself with that knowledge.
what i have realized (through philosophizing with a brightly burning flame) is that in the end, everything will be alright. sure, solipsism is relieving, existentialism preoccupying, nihilism justifying. but when all of those philosphies burn to the ground, all we are left with is the hope, the vain vain vain vain vain hope, that everything will be alright. it's all we can cling to. and things will work out in the end. they have to. otherwise, life will have been for naught, completely unfounded and without reason. in which case, why even exist in the first place? all of life may be complete shit, but one moment, one love, one breath, one morning, will make it all worth it. that one moment (however long it may be...a minute or a year or ten, twenty, thirty years) will give life reason to exist and will germinate the seed of life and beauty will blossom in all corners of the young green earth and life will seem for aught and a smile will caress your golden lips and you will feel immortal, powerful, unbreakable; capable of disturbing the universe.
and when i created a school of philosophy discounting the idea of schools of philosophy:
Slight Bread: i mean the truth is that we all have our own philosophy that is only applicable to us and no one else
Slight Bread: sure, what works for me could generally work for you. we're somewhat similar. but you and i don't have the same philosophy in everything
Slight Bread: nor does anyone
Slight Bread: what works for, i don't know, allford, probably wouldn't work for, i dont' know, james.
Slight Bread: general schools of philosophy are interesting, but everyone develops their own school of thought in the end by combining outside influence with personal instincts
to Burn Brightly: yeah. thats why i believe in a subjective view of the universe rather than an objective one.
Slight Bread: mhm
Slight Bread: and of truth, as well
Slight Bread: truth is how we perceive it as truth.
to Burn Brightly: yeah. and nothing ever really stays the same.
Slight Bread: undoubtedly
Slight Bread: you'll wake up tomorrow feeling better than you feel now, emotionally
Slight Bread: so, which was the truth? tonight or tomorrow morning?
Slight Bread: or both?
to Burn Brightly: i always feel its both. but maybe truth is only now.
Slight Bread: yeah.
Slight Bread: i mean, how can you argue with how you feel?
to Burn Brightly: you can't. not logically. because emotion is inherently irrational.
Slight Bread: exactly.
when i thought about things and had anna castro in the back of my mind
ever the hesitant one, i hesitate in saying the following 100% confidently, but I'm going to Reed, in Portland, Oregon (slow gin fizz). there are a lot of fascinating things about the place, but the most notable one is that i felt like i belonged when i visited there. sort of "this is where they hid my people". and with that sort of (i dare say) epiphany that there are others like me (not saying i haven't found them. they're just few and far between. actually, they all just sit next to me in AP Lit. except michelle, who isn't in AP Lit), i am comforted by the fact that i find it so difficult to find someone who can see things the same way i do (myself being among those things. wah wah).
[i've realized lately i have a strong fondess for parentheticals]
either way...perhaps i will finally truly find my niche, my place. although sometimes i wonder if such a place exists. true, i may find comfort in others and even bits of myself in the eyes of friends, but rarely do i find a place where i can close my eyes and feel as happy as i do when i sit in the quiet of my room with my guitar or a notebook or a book (Dante's Inferno, currently. Thanks to anna for her encouragement to really read it). But I'm rambling a bit and I don't feel like my sentences are as cohesive as they usually are. I'll address the thoughts as they come.
1. existence, solipsism, existentialism, philosophy, and whether it matters that life has no point
2. ms jamba
3. tonight
4. girl (is there anybody going to listen to my story?)
--
1. it's been some time since i've truly questioned the futility of existence like i used to. i'm still an adamnt solipsist, maintaining that, as lovely as people are, you only have yourself in the end, and you take no one else with you when you die. life is there and i believe that you simply cannot argue it's persistence. it is there and so it should be accepted. this presents a problem, though, mainly because the fuel for my Salem and Palamino story that I'm currently writing was based around questioning existence. either way.
2. ms jamba was at the party i was at tonight (if truth be told, that's the only reason i went) and i don't know why i like her. she's a dime a dozen, as cute as she is. there's nothing spectacular about her that would attract me. she's nowhere even near the same league as castro, harley, et. al. but so it goes, i suppose. as castro and i have discussed numerous times, it's the story of our lives. the ones we like do not like us back, the ones we could get with we aren't interested in, and the ones we know we should be with, we have no interest in. i shall now invent the dialogue between ms jamba and a friend that i know for a fact transpired.
friend: so do you like mikey?
ms jamba: i feel bad because i know he likes me and i don't feel the same way.
friend: that really sucks, because mikey's pretty amazing. he's awesome in bed. not that i'd know, but so i've heard. anyway, you're a complete idiota for not seeing how incredibly soulfull and loving mikey is. it's pretty ridiculous of you, you know, to pass up such an opportunity. i know you're going to prom together and all, and hopefully you'll change your mind by then. but mikey's a flighty character. it may be too late come prom. but yeah you're pretty crazy. ok love you see you later!
something like that.
4. girl (who has yet to exist). i still hold true to the fact that there is someone, or perhaps many someones, who can see straight through me to the gold. and what's anything worth until i find her, anyway.
3. tonight was alright. i don't drink or smoke or dance ("wow, you're going to be boring in college" observed a girl i met. i went on to amaze her with my admissions to reed while marissa boasted about my admissions to USC in which both of them got on their knees and fellated me. not really. speaking of which said girl was quite cute, and i found out that she used to be james' hag. don't worry, castro. he definitely traded up.) so i didn't really do anything at the party except talk to cindy, watch marissa dance with people and get drunk (along with everyone else) and talk to the occassional familiar (or not so) face (i saw a bunch of asian kids that hang around my starbucks). and um. then i left because i felt uncomfortable and out of place and went to starbucks where i ran into abby and aline and we decided to go back to the party where things happened just as they always do: uneventfully. phenia got stinking piss drunk and cursed alyssa's soul or whatnot. it was humorous to listen to. i'm just not a party type guy. i'm glad there are no fraternities at reed.
5. ms. miko. aka ms. saturday night (getting bumped from the previous list). so it's not that i have heavy feelings for this girl, because i don't. i did, and i wrote a song called 'on a mountain' about it, which was my first good song, i think. around two years ago or so. chirst it's been a long time. we kissed and all a while back. and last saturday night was the first time i had seen her since then and we kissed again and it was stupendous, mainly because it was all over the place: dancefloor, on top of steven (tina's brother), against a wall, outside (cheers, mate). i know she's flighty and transient and not perhaps worth the pain of trying to persue, but i had a good time with her and would love to see her again, so i call her thursday or whatnot and she says she'll call me back at nine when she is done dancing (it's always a dancer) but she didn't so i texted her and she texted back saying she'd call me tomorrow (which was yesterday), which she didn't, and i texted her facetiously pointing out the obvious fact that she is clearly no good at texting back. it's not that i'm desperate for contact with her. it's spring break and i'd be an awful waste of time if i didn't do anything.
i can't think of anything else to say. i have to go to sleep. i'm working in seven hours.
but back to college. and anna castro talking about how she will miss everyone (yes, anna, i'll miss you ridiculously. i won't tell you how much, just like you won't tell me how much, because it'll be terrible for your ego). i don't know how i feel about leaving everyone behind. there are the certain ones i'll miss [castro, harley, james, tina, MICHELLE, robby, amber]. and of course the tragedy of it all is that it took me till my senior year to actually get close to some people [notably the triumverate and amberine]. and then there's all the people i'm just starting to talk to now that i find out are really awesome people [mostly MSND people...quince, helena, etc]. but fuck it all. it's all circular, and those that truly matter i will always see again. and i'm not leaving till late august anyway. but it's like holden said. don't every tell anybody anything. if you do, you start missing everybody.
[i've realized lately i have a strong fondess for parentheticals]
either way...perhaps i will finally truly find my niche, my place. although sometimes i wonder if such a place exists. true, i may find comfort in others and even bits of myself in the eyes of friends, but rarely do i find a place where i can close my eyes and feel as happy as i do when i sit in the quiet of my room with my guitar or a notebook or a book (Dante's Inferno, currently. Thanks to anna for her encouragement to really read it). But I'm rambling a bit and I don't feel like my sentences are as cohesive as they usually are. I'll address the thoughts as they come.
1. existence, solipsism, existentialism, philosophy, and whether it matters that life has no point
2. ms jamba
3. tonight
4. girl (is there anybody going to listen to my story?)
--
1. it's been some time since i've truly questioned the futility of existence like i used to. i'm still an adamnt solipsist, maintaining that, as lovely as people are, you only have yourself in the end, and you take no one else with you when you die. life is there and i believe that you simply cannot argue it's persistence. it is there and so it should be accepted. this presents a problem, though, mainly because the fuel for my Salem and Palamino story that I'm currently writing was based around questioning existence. either way.
2. ms jamba was at the party i was at tonight (if truth be told, that's the only reason i went) and i don't know why i like her. she's a dime a dozen, as cute as she is. there's nothing spectacular about her that would attract me. she's nowhere even near the same league as castro, harley, et. al. but so it goes, i suppose. as castro and i have discussed numerous times, it's the story of our lives. the ones we like do not like us back, the ones we could get with we aren't interested in, and the ones we know we should be with, we have no interest in. i shall now invent the dialogue between ms jamba and a friend that i know for a fact transpired.
friend: so do you like mikey?
ms jamba: i feel bad because i know he likes me and i don't feel the same way.
friend: that really sucks, because mikey's pretty amazing. he's awesome in bed. not that i'd know, but so i've heard. anyway, you're a complete idiota for not seeing how incredibly soulfull and loving mikey is. it's pretty ridiculous of you, you know, to pass up such an opportunity. i know you're going to prom together and all, and hopefully you'll change your mind by then. but mikey's a flighty character. it may be too late come prom. but yeah you're pretty crazy. ok love you see you later!
something like that.
4. girl (who has yet to exist). i still hold true to the fact that there is someone, or perhaps many someones, who can see straight through me to the gold. and what's anything worth until i find her, anyway.
3. tonight was alright. i don't drink or smoke or dance ("wow, you're going to be boring in college" observed a girl i met. i went on to amaze her with my admissions to reed while marissa boasted about my admissions to USC in which both of them got on their knees and fellated me. not really. speaking of which said girl was quite cute, and i found out that she used to be james' hag. don't worry, castro. he definitely traded up.) so i didn't really do anything at the party except talk to cindy, watch marissa dance with people and get drunk (along with everyone else) and talk to the occassional familiar (or not so) face (i saw a bunch of asian kids that hang around my starbucks). and um. then i left because i felt uncomfortable and out of place and went to starbucks where i ran into abby and aline and we decided to go back to the party where things happened just as they always do: uneventfully. phenia got stinking piss drunk and cursed alyssa's soul or whatnot. it was humorous to listen to. i'm just not a party type guy. i'm glad there are no fraternities at reed.
5. ms. miko. aka ms. saturday night (getting bumped from the previous list). so it's not that i have heavy feelings for this girl, because i don't. i did, and i wrote a song called 'on a mountain' about it, which was my first good song, i think. around two years ago or so. chirst it's been a long time. we kissed and all a while back. and last saturday night was the first time i had seen her since then and we kissed again and it was stupendous, mainly because it was all over the place: dancefloor, on top of steven (tina's brother), against a wall, outside (cheers, mate). i know she's flighty and transient and not perhaps worth the pain of trying to persue, but i had a good time with her and would love to see her again, so i call her thursday or whatnot and she says she'll call me back at nine when she is done dancing (it's always a dancer) but she didn't so i texted her and she texted back saying she'd call me tomorrow (which was yesterday), which she didn't, and i texted her facetiously pointing out the obvious fact that she is clearly no good at texting back. it's not that i'm desperate for contact with her. it's spring break and i'd be an awful waste of time if i didn't do anything.
i can't think of anything else to say. i have to go to sleep. i'm working in seven hours.
but back to college. and anna castro talking about how she will miss everyone (yes, anna, i'll miss you ridiculously. i won't tell you how much, just like you won't tell me how much, because it'll be terrible for your ego). i don't know how i feel about leaving everyone behind. there are the certain ones i'll miss [castro, harley, james, tina, MICHELLE, robby, amber]. and of course the tragedy of it all is that it took me till my senior year to actually get close to some people [notably the triumverate and amberine]. and then there's all the people i'm just starting to talk to now that i find out are really awesome people [mostly MSND people...quince, helena, etc]. but fuck it all. it's all circular, and those that truly matter i will always see again. and i'm not leaving till late august anyway. but it's like holden said. don't every tell anybody anything. if you do, you start missing everybody.
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