the imperfect perfections
Feb. 21st, 2007
07:25 pm - One night what?
You wake up, poke the stranger laying next to you, find your clothes and leave. The ride home is filled with that pulsing headache that somehow came into being between trying to find that first cigarette and realizing that you have no idea where you are, and the desperate attempts to remember exactly what happened. And as the memories trickle back in, and the train stops at Berwyn, and you lean your head back and groan, you realize that maybe you've found something you like. Then what? What happens in the space between the one night stand and the possibility of something more? What happens the second time you run into each other, and the awkward snuggling that occurs on night number three? What happens when someone stops caring and someone else starts? It's just a simply awkward situation and it blows. And suddenly, someone is left standing there wondering when they'll find someone else. Someone doesn't care. Someone is doomed to spend nights alone. Someone else is doomed to spend more than one night wondering what they did wrong, wondering what they could have done differently. And suddenly, it doesn't matter anymore.
Sep. 12th, 2005
11:00 pm - this is an actual email.....
Subject: You are the WINNER of a free ticket to Santana!!!
Actually, I just thought I would try a subject that would keep you from hitting the delete key when you saw my name.
I have thought a lot about our conversation around being friends. Once I got past the little boy reaction I came to the conclusion that there are several things of which it is not possible to have too much, notably:
1) Good health
2) Horsepower in a car (guy thing)
So, friend, is it possible we can still go to see Santana? Just so you know this is a good faith offer and not some subterfuge I offer the following conditions:
1) I promise to sit on my hands (at least figuratively, hard to drive that way) the entire evening
2) I promise not bug you about seeing me again sometime in the 24 hours following the concert
3) If you want to go, and if it makes you feel more comfortable, I will mail the ticket to you and we can meet at the seats in Red Rocks
If you feel OK with any/all of those conditions, I know it will be a great concert and I was really looking forward to seeing it with you as a friend or a date. I hope you agree because otherwise I am going with my friend Bob, the flexible-rule racquetball player. At the risk of stepping over the line by saying this, given the choice of my friend Judy or my friend Bob, you win hands down.
Let me know, please.
the crazy creepy touchy feely reminds me of the simpsons man. (i changed the name to protect the poor, deluded man...)
Jun. 24th, 2005
I remember putting on dresses when I was little, wishing I was a princess. All those books seemed so real, like they were just around the corner. Or pretending I was a chef, cutting up anything green I could find in the yard. Jumping into the pool, goggles in hand, it seemed that there was a whole world out there to explore. That I was going to be stuck in my little kid self forever. When I was about ten, I picked up a copy of Seventeen magazine, thinking that you could only read it when you were seventeen. Because the teen years hadn't hit yet, and it seemed as though they never would. But all of a sudden, here I am, waiting for my teen years to hit. But wait....i'm way past pre-teen. I'm not a tween, haven't been for half a decade. What have I been doing this whole time? Why didn't someone tell me that seventeen is halfway gone?
Well we'll float on good news is on the way
Already we'll all float on
Now don't worry we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Alright don't worry we'll all float on
Aliright don't worry even if things end up a bit to heavy
we'll all float on alright
It seems like time is floating by us, slowly. We sit and wait for something to happen to us. But sneaky time is going faster than it'd like us to believe. I'd know. Gone are the days when I could pretend whatever I wanted; now, everything's within my reach. But I haven't yet realized that I can reach for anything. I sit, and wait. This ill-conceived notions of life are swirling around in my head, and I'm desperate for them to leave. Maybe then I'll realize I'm more in control of everything than I'd have you all believe.
So where does that leave us? Knowing that this is no Peter Pan, we all have to grow up eventually. And it's coming faster than we'd know. Relish every little minute that you have, because soon enough it's over.
Jun. 23rd, 2005
06:28 pm - Mary Mary quite contrary...
Life is a garden. Everyone lives for thier garden to be blooming and to be freshly colorful. We work and work for this garden of ours to fit that picture we tore out of the most recent Better Homes and Gardens except in our case it's the most recent Better Lives and People. And sometimes or some years our garden doesnt grow like we like it to, like it has previous years. So we water the flowers and cut the trees and shrubs and cross our fingers thinking that maybe our garden of life is out of our hands. So we do the best we can and the garden turns to shit anyways. Its like everytime we try to water our garden there is a kink in the hose. And while we stand confused and shocked in front of our dry and tired flowers, the hose behind us is swelling with water with nowhere to go. our hose gets bigger and bigger before we figure out that our water problem is as simple as a kink in the hose. So we put down the hose and unfold the kink. But we are still fucking pissed off at the hose. So we ask ourselves Are our problems with life the hose's fault, the gardens fault, or our own damn fault? And before we solve this mystery our life has ended, the garden is finished. So we take one step back and either admire a beautiful garden shining full of years well lived, or a dead and rotting swamp of petals and leaves with years past with nothing acomplished. No better life, no better people.
Places my Birkenstocks have been: Dublin. London.
May. 21st, 2005
Use them before they use you. Or as they are using you. Or just let them be what they will, but just be aware.
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
And he was right. Doing something that you've never done before can be an intense experience. Your blood pressure goes up, your heart starts to pound, you're a bundle of nerves. We get scared, and sometimes it's being scared, or nervous, to do something new that can cause us to never do it at all. So overcome your fears by just doing it. If you have to start slow, then do that too. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and jump. Go for it.
Because you're more scared to be scared than you are to actually get what needs to get done done.
May. 2nd, 2005
Rain is one of those tragicly romantic things. Rain can tickle emotion better than any other weather condition. Why? Rain can mean so many things. Rain is a ruin to a picnic. Rain is a perfect touch to a potential picture. Rain is an accent to an unending overcasting cloud. Rain is a purifiing shower for an inevitable new start. Rain is a blend of many individual drops, all with a story. Rain is a necessity. How many lives has a rain shower changed? Rain can be a turning point. A cancellation to a life changing airplane flight. Rain is an early start to a dance not meant to take place, but did. Because it did everything is different. Everything is different. So different. drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.....
May. 1st, 2005
09:57 pm - Everybody makes mistakes
Coincidence is real. And it only takes once for it to hit you, before you start believing.
Even though we're not so sure it's real, I am now convinced it is.
Apr. 25th, 2005
A little girl's hopes of becoming a strong and independent woman are dashed before she reaches the age of two.
Her mommy and daddy will read her books about a princess, so beautiful, but trapped in some helpless situation. Her prince, a strong, valiant, rich man will come in on a white horse and save her.
She won't have to lift a finger. All the beautiful princess has to do is look distressed and beautiful at the same time, and throw in a scream or two.
A little girl is not taught to learn how to make decisions by herself. She will never know how to survive on her own. And if she is placed in a position where she might have to, like most of us hit around fourteen, she'll have to make it up.
She'll feel completely rejected, alone. All because she thinks that somehow, not having someone to rely on, is a mortal sin. A disease. A stigma.
My message tonight to all women is: you are strong. independent. alone. and be proud of it. it sucks. it sucks a lot. but look at it this way. you dont have to worry if he's breaking your heart, slowly but surely. because you're breaking your own heart. day by day. your hopes are wearing away.
The beginning is just as bad as the end. But even worse than the middle.
Find an outlet. Find something that empowers you. Watch a bunch of movies full of sexy, powerful women, and then feel sexy. Feel powerful. Feel like you, too, can be anything. get your own damn horse.
So try to get rid of your past ideas about women. We are not fragile. Even though we do need to be treated like goddesses.
Treat yourself like a goddess. You are one. And somewhere, you know it.
Apr. 14th, 2005
I dont really know how to start this one. just something that ive been thinking about for forever. the way one day we will all have a turn. because until that day, hot boys didnt cry. young men dont die until you did. from things we do constantly. and one day we all have a chance to be the ones in that room. either laying there, but not being there, or the ones crowded around what once was everything someone else was. crying because at this time, we have to realize that our bodies arent what we are. because if they are, then the day we lay there is the day we no longer are. at all. and everything, every struggle, thought, good time, memory, relationship we ever experienced no longer have any point in the world at all. everything subjective dies with you. thats half of the tears. he has memories that are now as gone as he is. no one will ever know half of the things he did or thought or said. because now its gone forever. one day everything in our mind we think is pretty and hold dear and secret, everything we gaurd from others just to keep them ours alone. gone gone gone with us. goodbye, nothing. goodbye everything. goodbye.
have you ever thought the number of things we've yet to experience? 154,836,987,879,733. lets start counting
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