This is a time that I praise the cautious, self-preserving side of my nature.
I am terribly glad I never posted this blog on a site where actual people (read: people I have Real Life Contact with) (excluding you, Fishy, because you are always the exception) could read and weep.
Because now it is Teenager Time, the part of the program where LEGION (because I think I have multiple personalities) comes and sings a silly song. :
Tomorrow I am leaving
And no one seems to notice
(Other than The Fish,
Because she is The Exception).
Today I felt stretched
Like Bilbo said to Gandalf:
"Butter over too much
Crusty bread."
This morning all my confidence
Was gathered up around me,
My fortress in the clouds
That surround my head.
This evening it all shattered
When faced with bulging backpacks
And bulging in those places
Where bulging is unseemly.
TODAY I AM A PIGEON
Flying over FORTRESSES
And SADNESS and
DIS'LLUSIONMENT and
Tiny spots of sunshine
Intervene.
These poems never mention
What the poet really means.
Ah, poetry. The perfect outlet for everything. It's even more perfect when rhyming is thrown out with yesterday's imperfections.
7.23.2009
Multi-Tasking is Under-Rated
I am writing a Crossover Fic (Lord of the Rings--Justice League, if you must know), and am never going to let it see the light of day. I dreamed last night that instead of Aragorn and the rest making their final stand against the Armies of Mordor, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman made the stand instead. Batman was severely wounded. Superman and Wonder Woman, however, really gave those orcs and Uruk-hai what-for. It was better than Gandalf in the books!
I am listening to Vladimir Vysotsky singing about Pardisial Apples and Chances. If I ever hear a bard equal him, I might just take my chances and search for those paradisial apples. Because he was The Most Ultimate since King David. Who else could sing about the cannibals cooking Captain Cook with the same straight face he presented while singing about the boy who never came home from the battle?
I am fiddling with the lives of my Sims, Lulu and Hawkeye van Gogh. They are married but are complete opposites and do not get along very well. Being Sims, they do not understand the basic principles of marriage...although it is nice that they occasionally stop and blow kisses to each other (but not lately. Lately they've been making angry faces).
I am sniffing the sweet smell of Teriyaki chicken marinade and tasting the sesame oil left over on my fingertips. For the past few nights, Teriyaki marinated chicken has been brewing in our kitchen and settling around our thighs. Oh, the joy of late-night snacks.
I have finished reading Sandpebbles, a book that I never expected to like but am on my way to falling in love with. Maybe I hated it because I could identify with March, the protagonist. The book is full of poetic language and laden with breezy, barefoot oceans. Maybe I didn't like it because it was very obvious in the very beginning that March would marry the widowed Pastor Colin and inherit four children and the memory of Eva, his perfect, dead wife. But I think that I like the book now.
I am going to chaperon Kid's Camp all of next week. I am packing all of this week. Bath mats, air fresheners, snacks, light nights, plastic hangers, Nivea SPF chap stick, bandannas, floppy hats and furry flip-flops...they're all going into my enormous duffel-bag-on-wheels. I plan to be exhausted but fulfilled by the time August rolls around.
I am worried about my farmer's tan because my dress for a friend's wedding in sleeveless and I am heading into a group that puts high stakes in appearance. Sun, shine down and darken my shoulders. :)
I am going to watch Medea Goes to Jail with my family.
I am listening to Vladimir Vysotsky singing about Pardisial Apples and Chances. If I ever hear a bard equal him, I might just take my chances and search for those paradisial apples. Because he was The Most Ultimate since King David. Who else could sing about the cannibals cooking Captain Cook with the same straight face he presented while singing about the boy who never came home from the battle?
I am fiddling with the lives of my Sims, Lulu and Hawkeye van Gogh. They are married but are complete opposites and do not get along very well. Being Sims, they do not understand the basic principles of marriage...although it is nice that they occasionally stop and blow kisses to each other (but not lately. Lately they've been making angry faces).
I am sniffing the sweet smell of Teriyaki chicken marinade and tasting the sesame oil left over on my fingertips. For the past few nights, Teriyaki marinated chicken has been brewing in our kitchen and settling around our thighs. Oh, the joy of late-night snacks.
I have finished reading Sandpebbles, a book that I never expected to like but am on my way to falling in love with. Maybe I hated it because I could identify with March, the protagonist. The book is full of poetic language and laden with breezy, barefoot oceans. Maybe I didn't like it because it was very obvious in the very beginning that March would marry the widowed Pastor Colin and inherit four children and the memory of Eva, his perfect, dead wife. But I think that I like the book now.
I am going to chaperon Kid's Camp all of next week. I am packing all of this week. Bath mats, air fresheners, snacks, light nights, plastic hangers, Nivea SPF chap stick, bandannas, floppy hats and furry flip-flops...they're all going into my enormous duffel-bag-on-wheels. I plan to be exhausted but fulfilled by the time August rolls around.
I am worried about my farmer's tan because my dress for a friend's wedding in sleeveless and I am heading into a group that puts high stakes in appearance. Sun, shine down and darken my shoulders. :)
I am going to watch Medea Goes to Jail with my family.
7.21.2009
Clearer Since the Rain's Been Gone.
This is the only time I will ever write anything about the 17th of July. Here it is born, and here it shall die.
When my affair with Band of Brothers began in 2006, I never expected the men, both portrayed and portrayer, to envelop my SOUL in such a way that I pray for them every time I think of them, cry over them all when one passes, and devour any information I am handed regarding their well-being or their history.
They inspire me to write paragraph-long sentences.
They lift my thoughts to higher things (and sometimes not-so-high things, but this is neither the time or place) and force me to dig for deep thoughts when I would prefer to ignorantly cruise through life.
They are part of what has aged me beyond my sixteen years; but at the same time, they have delved into my personal Fountain of Youth--through them, I've been given the secret of eternal agelessness.
There is tightrope that has been bonded from my heart to the heart of Easy Company that is unexplainable, undefinable, stunningly influential, and all-encompassing.
Often I wish that I had this sort of relationship with Him Who Is Most Important, but my spirituality finds limits. (I believe I'll be spending my life pushing those limits.)
But this is what it is. My mother asked me once, when I was earnestly re-watching Band of Brothers again, Why is this so captivating to you?
I could not tell her that the very seat of my emotions was so entangled in this terrible, swift OCEAN that I had no hope of ever rising to the surface.
Because I'm drowning, asphyxiating; don't want to break this spell that they've created. They're something beautiful--a contradiction--I want to play the game; I want the friction. They gave me freedom, bound and restricted; don't want to give them up, 'cause I'm addicted.
And now I'm sitting next to a mannequin named Karen while The Humble is lying in a mortuary mourned by millions.
When my affair with Band of Brothers began in 2006, I never expected the men, both portrayed and portrayer, to envelop my SOUL in such a way that I pray for them every time I think of them, cry over them all when one passes, and devour any information I am handed regarding their well-being or their history.
They inspire me to write paragraph-long sentences.
They lift my thoughts to higher things (and sometimes not-so-high things, but this is neither the time or place) and force me to dig for deep thoughts when I would prefer to ignorantly cruise through life.
They are part of what has aged me beyond my sixteen years; but at the same time, they have delved into my personal Fountain of Youth--through them, I've been given the secret of eternal agelessness.
There is tightrope that has been bonded from my heart to the heart of Easy Company that is unexplainable, undefinable, stunningly influential, and all-encompassing.
Often I wish that I had this sort of relationship with Him Who Is Most Important, but my spirituality finds limits. (I believe I'll be spending my life pushing those limits.)
But this is what it is. My mother asked me once, when I was earnestly re-watching Band of Brothers again, Why is this so captivating to you?
I could not tell her that the very seat of my emotions was so entangled in this terrible, swift OCEAN that I had no hope of ever rising to the surface.
Because I'm drowning, asphyxiating; don't want to break this spell that they've created. They're something beautiful--a contradiction--I want to play the game; I want the friction. They gave me freedom, bound and restricted; don't want to give them up, 'cause I'm addicted.
And now I'm sitting next to a mannequin named Karen while The Humble is lying in a mortuary mourned by millions.
7.12.2009
There Is Nothing on Television at 6AM.
Hello, nonexistent blogosphere! Long time no type.
The very sad thing is, there is nothing to say, even after postless Months.
Well, let's see. I am missing The Fish, who is on a week's vacation. I am back from my own vacation. Vacation Bible School begins tomorrow, and I am spending the week with pre-schoolers(!). I'm halfway through The Lord of the Rings.
Time Is Running Out by Muse is Stunning.
My favorite fairy tale is Beauty and the Beast.
I wish I had a serious camera (not that Denise isn't serious). (My camera is named Denise because she is sleek and black.)
I have a partially-closed personality and
Did I mention that yogurt is a gift from GOD?
All right, my lovelies. Off to bury myself in Fanfiction and forget my fearsome woes. :D
The very sad thing is, there is nothing to say, even after postless Months.
Well, let's see. I am missing The Fish, who is on a week's vacation. I am back from my own vacation. Vacation Bible School begins tomorrow, and I am spending the week with pre-schoolers(!). I'm halfway through The Lord of the Rings.
Time Is Running Out by Muse is Stunning.
My favorite fairy tale is Beauty and the Beast.
I wish I had a serious camera (not that Denise isn't serious). (My camera is named Denise because she is sleek and black.)
I have a partially-closed personality and
Did I mention that yogurt is a gift from GOD?
All right, my lovelies. Off to bury myself in Fanfiction and forget my fearsome woes. :D
I think I'm drowning,
Asphyxiated
I wanna break this spell
That you've created
You're something beautiful
A contradiction
I wanna play the game
I want the friction
You will be the death of me...
Bury it, I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it
I wanted freedom
Bound and restricted
I tried to give you up
But I'm addicted
Now that you know I'm trapped
Sense of elation
You'd never dream of
Breaking this fixation
You will squeeze the life out of me...
Bury it, I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it
Our time is running out
Our time is running out
You can't push it underground
You can't stop it screaming out
How did it come to this?
You will suck the life out of me...--Muse
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