change is my cornerstone ... my good fight ... ain't ironic how one user name is inspired by a man bound to a rock ... and the other equated with breaking chains.
but the myth of a man was bound and suffured for giving fire [aka awareness] to man [funny how the greeks revere him ... him. the snake in the grass] ...
alexander hamilton said if man were angels ... we would not need government.
and i say if we weren't ment to die ... we'd be gods.
but what are capable of doing is die and resurrect only to have the resurrection die again. and we can do it all again. many times if we are lucky before they finally have to put our bodies in the ground.
even the act of resisting change changes us. so take comfort knowing that no one goes forward with the intention to become different ... the acting of going forward makes us different.
tonight someone asked my if i'd be okay. and i wanted to say no. i thought that was the answer. what i said was 'i will be' ... the only thing that has kept me moving is a vague notion that there is a light ... it's just that right now i can't see it.Current Music: laughter ... subtle knowing laughter |
wow. though i know that six months may seem like a long time to some ... i was in fact a bit impressed that my last entry had ben so *cough* recent.
:P
but when someone only casually acquainted posts what appears to be so ... um ... pointed? ... an entry. i just can't resist.
and while this will be a brief and without conclusion ... i do find public declarations of random thoughts to be a lost art and in need of mass revival.
so maybe this does have a point ... 'tell a stranger' day seems destined for weekly celebration day.
tuesday maybe. i tried sunday but wouldn't you know ... i shared a really off color cheer with a group of strangers one day ... and they came back.
gnaw on that!Current Music: why is music my only option ... i'm watching the dead zone |
i've always been infamous for being a devout journaller of some sorts for stretches of time only to vanish into thin air for a bit ... until i pick back up again ...
... asking ...
'so. where was i?'
i have been placating.
i have been rampaging.
i sought dissolution.
... and was thusly dissolved.
.the end. |
|
i came all the way to the library with a disk full of stuff only to discover i grabbed the wrong disk. |
why are you around
every one of my corners
these days
i leave you
tidily
in your spacetime
yet you have left
wrinkles in mine
[this may already be in here but i don't know] |
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
one bottle for one glass
several games of solitaire
and the same album repeating
a song of centuries
crooners crying
seconds slip into moments
moments making months
[calendars cannot hold these days!]
wastes laid for carrion eaters
carcasses of craftsmen can't
help me now
too
far
gone
for idle sitting and card playing
days of shuffling queens
not a king to be had at hand
May. 17th, 2005 @ 04:06 pm
|
| » ditty |
|---|
i can't find it ... i suppose it was on the disk that i have lost. how's that for a laugh ... the first thing that i've written in awhile that i hated even putting in print and it's now floating out there somewhere for someone to read as unflinchingly as i wrote it flinching.
i could do it again though ... not a reproduction but the actual act itself. i managed to note that the process is interesting. if i am actually accomplishing the task i do so with a surgeon's detachment from the body ... it is no longer my flesh. but i get so little out of that 'sides words on pages. but if i dance ... if i hedge ... if i type while turning my head and peer at the screen through squinched eyes ... i feel the release ... i experience it as i assume i ought.
i had so many conversations this morning ... so much insight and introspection ... so much good work ... and i never get any of this shit in writing. all of my greatest thoughts float into the oblivion of empty space. and it's futile to recapture it ... once it's gone it's done ... over. i'll never have it the same way again.
so i wrote you a one act ... it's actually for you. i have come to grips with my inability to create fiction outside of the constraints of reality based fantasy. i can't give characters names. they are always people i know manipulated mirages of the perception of them and their applicability to contrive scenarios. i used to let that stop me. i was totally embarrassed ... wanting to refute that i could envision these plot lines only because i thought the reality of them was more desirable than the reality of the situation. they cold comfort was never in the play acting ... or the realization that they would never play out into truth ... but that i couldn't acknowledge how i felt about a situation. i avoid rejection ... by or of me. i win by failing to be there. such a load of crap ... but i thought it helped me sleep at night. i never seemed to notice that i wasn't sleeping.
so i have a collection of these by now. i haven't been to the library in like a week. my library at any rate ... i tried to log on at another branch. apparently i picked the deficient terminal. fat bitch. plus my disk that i KNOW i left there was not in the lost disk bin. somebody has that bastard and is reading files not intended for them. peeping tom pervert. good for them for picking an x rated bag o tricks. don't people realize that T&A aren't things that should be restricted viewing ... it's thoughts ... subversive thinking ... unrestricted access to human psyche that we should shield ourselves from ... unbridled butt love is benign ... wallowing in mud and popscicle sticks ... questioning the life you have chosen to live ... that will turn one's stomach and make even the most stoic character look away. revelations are attempts best left for fairy tales and hallmark movies to provide for us. they are safer that way. we can nod approvingly between bites of our lean cuisine and talk about it dispassionately at work the next day ... "so i saw this made for tv movie last night ..."
the satie i got is beautiful ... flawless ... and the timing is perfect.
i get so excited about what i've exerienced that i ... the rest is known ... by you [and the bulk of those whom i show myself to] ... i apologize for dwelling on an instance at work ... and for not truely grasping what you were trying to say about your exchange with jen ... you and your damn lack of expectation ... i know ... KNOW ... really i have had to make myself accept your honesty ... and i am more comfortable with it than before. now i no longer dispute your words or your [lack of] intentions, but processing by such constraints is new to me.
May. 17th, 2005 @ 04:05 pm
|
| » the ugliness of honesty |
|---|
the ugliness of honesty
for all the truth of present exchange
there is so much pre-existance
nullifying everything and its appearance
some days shouts come screaming
this is not all in what it seems
there was this and then
should the present always be doomed to walk
the footpath of the past
is am what was
will it t'will ever be
can the slate be wiped so clean
May. 17th, 2005 @ 04:02 pm
|
| » stick a fork in me |
|---|
Heres something new and something old. I think, i need some time to heal.
So, stick a fork in me, because i am done.
my bridge has fallen
and im left stranded
without anyone here
without anyone there
all alone i stand here and wonder
if words will save me now
life is gone here
movement over there
but without sight
without knowledge
without love
all is for nothing
i could yell for hours
i could listen for days
and my soul would fall
away from my body
i would be left standing
empty and dead
but i persist
and wonder if i will ever see
that face
that voice
that love
only to fulfill the inevitable
its slipping away from me
im slipping away from me
and i think i must find a new bridge
leave this burnt passage
find a natural causeway
into my future
into a real life
away from this all
the spiderweb is sticky
and the poison has set in
if i go to sleep
i sentence myself to deprevity
and i will lose reality
taking this one instance
grasping my only chance
to escape my own trap
sown by invisible spiders
keeping me in this web
in front of this chasm
eyes locked on the unseen
trapped in my life
all i can do
is run away
from them all
from my binding
because i am not staying true
to who i once was
and wish to become
-------
GO ON
go on acting like you care
never trying
youre only lying
saying you like me
but always acting
im worth more than you all
you say you miss me
but you never call
im sick of your games
so dont come back my way
because i am done with you
and your twisted deceit
visit your zombies
and lie to the stars
but i know who
my real friends are
-------
My only advice?
Stay true to something
Stay true to yourself,
because that might be all you have.
-------
[for the record ... this shit is crap. but there are some gems of lines so i am loathe to distrupt it as it is. and for those whom would mistake me for pretentious ... well ... i am ... but i also know i can laugh at all that goddamn fucking angst ... somebody really ought to shoot me when i get that way ... or put me back in junior high where i can weep and whine with the best of 'em]
May. 17th, 2005 @ 03:58 pm
|
| » words on pages |
|---|
words on pages ... happen
boredom staved for ... indefinate expanses
idle hands and unfocussed minds
lack predication for use of time
and lack thereof
despite a claim
reality will still hold other truths
poorly expressed tokens
leaping and bounding
typed erradication
whittled down to widgets
hedges and ponderances
best left for wordscapers
and archae-ligual-tecture engineers
[see i did it]
laugh and i'll punch you in the face
May. 17th, 2005 @ 03:56 pm
|
| » puter down ... still |
|---|
i have a buncha buncha that i've written and i figured it's high time i utilized this space as a sort of repository. here's the most recent:
05.17.05
i have fiercely maintained that i loathe editting ... that i believe it kills something of the truth found in raw communication.
i contradict myself in that i edit constantly ... mostly in small rearrangements and minor replacements of words; but occassionally on a more grand scale.
the correlation i am grabbing at straws for is that of the nature of contradiction and my own struggle with duality. i have finally come to see that duality is imposed. light is a wave, but when forced to be viewed through certain constraints it looses the ability to demonstrate all the characteristics it possesses.
i still loathe editting but when forced to achieve the height of truth in my communications, editting becomes nothing more than a trail [a process] that cannot be viewed directly as our concept of chronology is never achievable in the present.
this is why history must persist ... not an attachment to the past ... i am happy to say that is slipping away ... i cannot see this, but i feel it ...
through the wake of existance some bright child will one day see a dimension that has been missed. the mind will evolve ... utopia will be closer to the ever unreachable hand.
have i ever told you how much i love myth [of course i have ... rhetorical, you know] ... the story of adam and eve and the fig leaves is a tricky devil. how could the evolution of humanity ever progress naturally to a point where we felt shame? shame is imposed by others ... and the outcome of shame is the oppression of the righteous by the guilty. i am not righteous ... but i am tired of being guilty.
i am ready to run away to europe ... and then to africa ... and then to indonesia ... maybe stroll into china ... re-integrate in japan ... and return with a camera full of film, an empty head, and technicolor retinas.
but i have to go to work tomorrow ... you know how it is.
resentful as ever,
:) jackie
May. 17th, 2005 @ 03:48 pm
|
| » bons mots and bonhomie |
|---|
i quit my day job lala ... i quit my day job lala ... surprisingly though ... my boss is having a hard time understanding that my failure to show up much less call means that i'm never coming back.
and as we all know at this point ... i am without computer ... so my sparse entries to begin with with be even more erratic ... though the great news is that my mom is sending money to help me purchase a new pc. now i just have to save a bit more in order to not get a piece of crap ... if anyone would like to give input on a decent mid-priced system ... hook a sister up
[i really wrote this just for the subject line]
Mar. 17th, 2005 @ 02:38 pm
|
| » word of the day |
|---|
dishabille \dis-uh-BEEL\, noun:
1. The state of being carelessly or partially dressed.
2. Casual or lounging attire.
3. An intentionally careless or casual manner.
Feb. 10th, 2005 @ 11:10 pm
|
| » what's in the closet |
|---|
i hate my job
but i have no hard evidence as to why
i like my managers
i respect them
i have no reason to feel otherwise
they have given me none
i prefer a majority of my new co-workers
to those with whom i used to work
those i don't care for
are no different than any co-worker
that i ever disliked
my schedule is different
but easy
i am not making the money i need to make
my main role with the company has completely changed
i am now a mere worker bee
worker bee with pedigree
this should not really bother me
consciously, i feel it doesn't
but i am beginning to worry about a state of denial
worry about repressed feelings
worry that i have done this for years
i never knew it
i still don't know what is lying deep
Feb. 10th, 2005 @ 04:08 pm
|
| » word of the day |
|---|
perdurable \pur-DUR-uh-bul; pur-DYUR-\, adjective:
Very durable; lasting; continuing long.
i once thought our connection was perdurable, but your lack of communication has thus proved otherwise.
[thanks bitch]
[and a sincere thanks and *hugs* to you, gq]
Feb. 9th, 2005 @ 12:34 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
why do i insist
i can find warmth
on a bed of nails?
why send my heart on mission
that is in effect my holy grail?
why search for frozen comfort?
why did i think i could read an ancient thread and tell myself and tell myself and tell myself "i know he posted in here ... but i'm not thinking about that ... i'm okay with that ... it was two years ago ... nothing can hurt me now" ... why did i think i'd believe my own lies?
you win. i lose.
i lose you bastard son of bitch punk mother fucker.
you fucking win.
go ahead ... snicker. point. whatever it is you do.
shrug it off ... give it a bah ... a yawn.
ask who they were talking about again ... oh yeah ... her.
so i was a drop in the bucket
and you were my cellar of wine
i dropped from sight and mind
with less consequence
than i am apt to find
you were my fair dream
t'weren't as it seemed
you succeeded
when i only feared
some say tis not
to reason why
i say
it's not like i'll die
but damnit
a girl has got to try
and maybe i'll try
and try and try
i'll cry, i'll try
until motivation dries
and when it happens
who knows when
i'll think back on it all
and grin
but for now
i'll curse
but not begin
to wish it hadn't had
to end
you stupid s.o.b.
why ever must it
had been me
[every day i still die a little bit inside]
Feb. 8th, 2005 @ 02:19 am
|
| » way to make my blue skies grey |
|---|
so take a happy thought: pbr in a can, big o, trsecting angles, adult swim, the internet in general, many of the bands i love
insert sharing these things with wan who becomes in integral part of your emotional self ...
then remove that wan but maintain the same level of interaction said things have in your daily grind.
a recipe for making swampy eyes feel like greyer skies
:> you bastard <:
Feb. 3rd, 2005 @ 01:24 am
|
| » word of the day |
|---|
extirpate \EK-stur-payt\, transitive verb:
1. To pull up by the stem or root.
2. To destroy completely.
3. To remove by surgery.
Jan. 31st, 2005 @ 06:37 pm
|
| » i am ... |
|---|
...
tired and yet not sleepy
bored and yet not with out things to do
listless and yet not without caring
thirsty and yet not without drink
pained and yet not without inner calm
directionless and yet not without paths
Jan. 11th, 2005 @ 03:21 am
|
| » my good friend nikki loaned me a book ... |
|---|
every so often, she and i get on the topic of spirituality and paranormal events often related to said spiritual beliefs. she read a book by sylvia browne that really laid a foundation for her personal beliefs. i knew ms. browne only as a world reknowned psychic ... and seeing as i am fascinated by yet unbelieving of such things ... i asked to borrow the book.
several months prior to doing so i was talking to a regular at the bar i work at ... sort of out of the blue one day, he told i should really think about applying to duke. i replied that duke had always been an option for me but while i was an extremely bright girl, ultimately i was not a dedicated enough student [at present] to make duke worth the expense. to which replied that i really ought to look into it because there were friends of his that he knew from his army days [he was a SEAL during nam] that were occassionally involved in research there ... then he goes on to tell me stories of how one of his army buddies died during one research project ... all very hush hush ... and continues with a story of a little girl like nine years old that was a focus of one of the studies ... they were having her bend large metal bars ... with her mind. he said she died during the course of the studies ... i knew duke had an extremely active paranormal department ... but that shit was blowing my reason.
... and months earlier to that i met a guy who was best friends with the folks who owned another restaurant at which i worked. he always called me madame curie ... and after a conversation he and i had one drunked night he told me he'd get some info for me ... because i needed to contact a professor friend of his ... at duke ... who studied people's ability to do extraordinary things ... with their mind.
now enough is enough. i have an almost obsessive relationship with paranormal phenoms. i don't believe in them ... simply because i have never experienced them ... and i am terribly jealous of ppl who have ... but dismiss their experiences as delusions of a trusting psyche. it's my catch-22 ... i won't believe it unless i see it ... and if i see it ... i won't believe what i see.
furthermore, i can say i prescribe to the existance of synchronicity ... and events related to meeting ppl with whom i connect i easily attribute to synchronicity ... yet events such as these i dismiss.
like the guy at the alehouse that night. i had been thinking that night of how i'd like to study holistic medicine, yet right now i see it as being cost prohibitive. so cathy, nikki, and i go out for drinks and i tell them of this ... and this guy i staring at me the whole time ... it kinda creeps me out. so we move ... he keeps staring ... so we mingle ... more staring. as the bar thins out, and last call has been called, and as we are making plans for what to do next ... he walks over. he tells me that i have a brilliant purple aura and that field of healing that i will choose is perfect for me ... and his voice is not one of casual conversation ... but has this prophetic air ... he said my curse will be an inability to accept payment for it ... because it is my gift and i will want to give it away to all those in need.
it was an unsettling experience.
so what do i do from here .... well right now, i sling drinks and throw parties for friends. i live in constant debt and struggle with crippling depression. i ripped my own heart out and ponder whether or not to eat it or return it to it's cage. and as usual, the possibility is always more comforting than the reality ... i am too scared too lazy to put myself out there.
Jan. 6th, 2005 @ 01:39 am
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
prometheabound's journal