Inbox (2/50)

Date : Dec 18, 11:05 am

----------------------------

From aaron- Alton it is

really cold in their

basement. And I don't

mean like a little chilly I

mean colder than

frostmournes hilt lol

bring layers lol

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From : alton lee

Date : Dec 18, 9:18 am

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I just wrote a macro to

update file name fields

automatically in word for

the 500 files as pdf

converter opens each

file. Ah the sweet taste

of programming!

-----------------------------

From : alton lee

kt looked at the chai tea, sitting next to her at the dining table. The very cluttered, junk-filled dining table.
"You are my last hope of sanity." She said finally.
The chai tea knew this was completely true. It was the last chai tea in the box, an ordinarily horded and sacred tea bag. But this was a time of desperation. Not quiet desperation. Teeth-gnashing, pitiless desperation.
So the chai tea did every thing it could. It wrinkled its tea bag nose. And shut its tea bag eyes. And seeped out it's delicious tea aroma. It hopped it would be enough.
kt hoped so too.

over! over! over!

school is almost over! my brain is almost over! the mysteries about life that i can't explain will never be over! people are confusing and over! i am almost as confusing over!


gah. my life literally feels like too many exclamation points and not enough space. it may also be noted that i now plan on having a computer hunch in my back forever.

so. design quarter 1 is over. now that i have all these sweet skillz what should i do with them? how will they relate to linguistics? or more importantly, how will they relate to my life?

on a more happier note, it snowed this morning and i decided that the world was my Christmas present. kind of like the world is my oyster, only more holiday themed.

on a more depressing note, my 320 assignment was awful. and late. and awful. and i don't want to think about it. if i could travel backwards in time, i probably would not have stayed up until 2 talking to alton last night and i would have had at least two more hours to work on it. the design was nice, even kinda cool. but the text was ridiculous. also the premise of the book. also the typography.


okay, this is what i don't understand. true design for me is beautiful. (i know, i know, what do i know after 1 quarter) and a lot of the stuff other people turn in look-- organized. clean. even technically proficient. but not beautiful. not ... exciting. maybe it just isn't exciting for me? but the stuff i turn in, regardless of whether it was a success or failure, is exciting every time. i don't ever let myself do a boring assignment, even if that would be eaiser / possibly better grade.

i wish they would grade us on that. then my grades would be better. sigh.

okay but! the quarter is almost! almost! over!

sometimes i am still a sad person even when i bake cookies and have no work due until monday.

there is a crease in my back as long as the mississippi river and wide as the sucker of a three-pound catfish. we had company over today, for dubai and nonsense chatter.

another thought from the early morning

being alone is carrying two sets of keys because you are holding on to one for someone else and that someone else is far oh so far above the skyline that you are looking at as you spiral downdownwards in a car that you have only driven once before and everything feels too spacious too empty there nothing behind you and darkness ahead of you and you are on a highway that splinters you are on a one lane highway one narrow lane far far away from the land you grew up from and even farther away from the land you are going to

everything is too much to bear and enough. enough for you to drive home to an empty house with an empty clock and forty five minutes of silence before the day begins.

learning how to breathe on my own

i think i am learning the edges of me
and the edges of you
our bodies taper out in clear blue-veined flaps
and
sometimes they touch
& softly rub against eachother
but we are not the same, are we?

we are two forgotten and ancient sea creatures
carried inexorably onwards by oceans of time

no good very bad day

yesterday was not a good day today is not a good day either

maybe someday we will run out of bad days and then all we will have left are the good days and then there will always be birds chirping outside and beautiful fall leaves in jars and garlic stuffed olives and bookshelves and chalkboard messages that make you smile instead of cry inside and lots of cream for your chai tea that is served in bone china teacups on the front porch where your grandma is already sitting because she wants to have a nice long chat about everything in the whole world with you and the sun is already warming up your toes and your hair is falling out of your hair tie just right so your vision is framed with strands of gold. and then right then you will be very glad that all the bad days are gone forever.

sometimes i think that if i can write enough on the wall then the writing will come off of me and i will clean and pink like a newborn and everything will be gone the exhaustion the death the thinking the strangers the lying the screams and everything everything will be gone.
i'm sorry sam the wall is a little bit fuller than you remembered it.

i walk home with my elbows hinged out
palms up
facing the sky
my fingers outstretched

i stare at them. i wish that they were not my hands, because these hands are dirty. gritty. black.
they are smoking with invisible ash.

no matter how hard i try to over extend my fingers away

away far away from eachother, the ash will not fall off. it leaves small trails behind me in lazy, untraceable loops.
like dandelions in hiroshima

right now i am very conflicted.

mostly because a girl that i know and love is hurting. and it makes me so so so angry when this happens. i think overly angry, since i am unable to stand up for myself--- i over compensate by standing (or jumping! and getting very emotional and yelling) up and fighting battles that are not mine to fight.

okay probably unhealthy.

but i have some responsibility, i think. i chose to run away. what if i hadn't chose to run away? what if i had stood my ground?

is it too late to stand my ground? is it too late to bring things up that happened three years ago?


every once in a while i am reminded of relationships of which i am very ashamed.


it is interesting because, as a christian who is no longer in christian leadership, i feel like "i" am the failure. it makes sense, right? because God is not publicly using me in the way he is using other people (with whom i am partially estranged from), i must be in the wrong.

but this is not true. he makes some pots for ornate uses but some for ordinary uses. but then what is true? what do i have besides my feelings?

the problem is when other people invalidate your feelings. you no longer know whether they are true.

but is their reality really that much more true? no. no not at all.

but there is truth. i know that. i believe that i can know truth, eventually. slowly, at some points painfully.



what will happen if i bring up the past again?

[pray for me]

relatively

everything is chaos. but my professor still likes me.


somehow this seems really important.


way more important than the three million loads of work i have due by next monday. eep eep eep.

let me tell you a story, internet, let me tell you a story.

i spent two and a half hours transforming my room today. it went from chaos and bewilderment to clean, open, organized space.

now that everything is beautiful, i realize that nothing has changed.
inside of my head there is still chaos and darkness and sadness.

i am looking for a new kt-cim to go with my new room.

(a blustery day)

when it is a very windy day
( and you are caught by the wind sideways frontways backways
and you are so happy with exclamation points! to breathe)
it feels to me
that someone is asking
all the unanswered questions in the world


and someday i am going to answer them
every one.

a thing you believe in

right now i am feeling many things. it is a feeling day. i am glad for everything that happened, and sad too.

sometimes you have to do what you know is right. even if it isn't what you want to do.




right now i have been taking more tests. tests that tell me about me. this is good because i don't know who i am.

(nobody can tell you who you are you have to discover it you have to create it you have to believe you are person and then and only then you will become one)

my counselor person had an idea today: what if the reason i think i am a failure is because i am too hard on myself?

this might seem like an obvious reason to you, internet, but to me it was something that i had never actually considered in my head

and the reason she thought this is because i was describing all the thing my dad expects me to be, everyday, allthetime

1. smart
2. sociable
3. popular
4. kind
5. perfect
6. friends with everybody
7. do above and beyond what 'normal' people do
8. able to do whatever he asks of me
9. to be smarter 'than that christian garbage'
10. attentive to his wants and needs
11. to take care of my sisters and other people (his gf, etc)
12. to take his side in an argument
13. very very successful
14. very well educated (i.e. get a phd or at least masters)
15. rich
16. have a job
17. play sports
18. to never trust a boy with my life completely


this is why i might feel like a failure. this is the list in front of my eyes, asking me if i have measured up today. what about today. certainly not today.

but i don't want to be the person my dad thinks i am.



but if (and only if) i can let go of the list that i am supposed to be, then what ? what will i do ?

who will i be ?

discovery

new inspiration for my design project.


(if you want to be more impressed you can go here. because it was done entirely by puppets, except the human eyes)

i feel like exploring alll of the national film board of canada 's stuff. why doesn't america have something this awesome?

Inbox 1/69

Date : Oct 29, 08:45 am
....................................
I love you! I feel so...
Relieved that i will be
able to see you and hold
you tomorrow. Its like
finally coming home
....................................
From : alton lee

the cincinnati morning time

this morning i come down early.

it is early because it is still dark outside

it is still dark outside because it is raining beautiful fat raindrops


our puppy dog seiji is thrilled to see me
he jumps and squeals and whines so i pet him
of course of course i pet him he is our puppy dog
and then he begs please please please
please what? i do not know.
so i start to make breakfast
please please please

seiji, what on earth do you want?
i follow him to the door
and he starts getting excited
please! please please!
i open the door.
then the screen,

bam! before i can get to the screen, seji pushes it open
and it clatters back. he is off!
he is running as fast as he can, past the trampoline
through the trees through the bush
it is the corner of our property!
he runs down down down to

i don't know. to what? 15 seconds after i let him out, he is back, wet and sound.
i let him back in.

what a silly puppy dog!


and now, dear internet,
he is asleep in my lap.

what a good puppy dog he is.

There are crazy people out there
and many having a better time than you.

--dallas clayton

these past three nights have felt like two years.

three thousand and seven days later
and she was still hungry

i say the word china over and over again until it has no meaning

beijing
china
i am hungry to be there again. to stand on dirty street corners and be lost between endless highrises that column up into the smog.

i can't think or look at china anymore. it is so beautiful it hurts too much.

and i don't want to go back for vacation either. what is a vacation? i want to wake up and find the morning market. i want to be part of the overwhelming mass of people on my way to work. i want to be startled by the mountains on a clear day, looking at the sky.

these are not things you can taste on a vacation. i have to live there again.

(6,7,14)

magic

so much has happened in one month

should i have written it down?


sometimes internet you scares me. when are you a beautiful place to share pictures and words and my heart, and when are you a replacement for life? an extension of life? an beautiful exaggeration of life that is impossible to be true?

(right now i have a confession internet. i don't want the photographer that we have. i could probably do without the dj too. but the photographer, he is a friend. and his pictures are boring.)

how do i explain this to you? i want magic. other people have magic.

the problem is i go to the taj and there is no magic. people promise its there but i can't find it. then afterwards they tell me that it was there and we saw it and
i want to believe them

but where? where was it?

maybe it was looking through the mirror to see a reflection of a person i know. maybe it was in behind the pillows that were sparkling and twisting in place. maybe it was in the curtains. maybe it was in the free pumpkin foods and the absurd karaoke and the silly stories ---

see i am doing it. i am creating magic for you.

let us be entirely clear:


there was no magic.

"The sisters are watching their antiquarian interests, which date back to their childhood in Kansas, crest in their hipster-Brooklyn neighborhood, where every act seems framed in quotation marks."

this is going to be a stream of consciousness post

we are no longer here. we have entered the future and there is no going back. when it is raining i can hear the voices of myself speaking back to me, from the past and from the future. they are usually not very happy things. sometimes i try not to remember happy things, only sad ones. i try to remember ever sad idea i've ever had.

someone once told me that the more times we remember a memory the less accurate we remember it. then they proceeded to assert that life's happiness comes from happy memories. the unspoken connection being that the foundation of life's happiness rested on a false ledge, overlooking the treacherous waters of Reality. but to me, this is all wrong. do you really get your happiness from your memories? then what caused the first memory? how did you even know what happiness was before you had it? or perhaps you learnt it by being not happy, and realizing the difference.

but all of this, as i said, is wrong. for me, happiness comes from people. it comes from loving other people, connecting with them. being with them. it comes from beauty. loving beauty, connecting with it, being surrounded by it. happiness also comes from hope and faith. without hope for the future, hope for the past, hope for the present--

is it weird that i have hope for the past? that i pray for people who have died long ago? since i believe in a God who is outside of time, i have no problems with praying outside of time. other people are not so sure, perhaps. i pray anyways.

happiness does not come from God. as a result of God, happiness exists. happiness, to me, is a response to something. it cannot exist alone.

well, perhaps because i think that nothing can exist alone. because i think more and more of how things exist inside of christianity.

don't get me wrong. i still see how they exist outside of christianity. but i like that i can see it inside chrisitianity, too.

oh deers

how can i explain how ashamed of myself i am sometimes?

do other people feel this way too?

i am blushing up to my toes.

the almost moving day

my head and my brain are in an argument right now.


(my head keeps looking at my house and seeing it empty
and my brain keeps looking at my house and remembering it full)


internet can you tell me, who is right? which one is real?


(and you can't say both are real, internet. that is commonly referred to as a cop-out)

i read the girls of riyadh today and decided that life is exactly as romantic as you want it to be.

dreams

last night i dreamed that target had a bike sale ranging from 2.50 to 10 dollars and someone else got the last one.


i dreamed there was a hand in the morning to pull back my hair and touch my cheekbone.


i dreamed the internet was printed out on light gray paper.

excitement and introductions

okay, internet, i cannot sleep

i am too excited! and i forgot to order decaf.

but i am getting ahead of myself. first i need to mention that i almost told someone about you today.

but! luckily! he had already turned off his computer off for the night, and was in bed. so i didn't tell him.
so you are still a secret i have never told.

i bet you can guess who i almost told, internet. it was alton.

if i do tell people about you, though, you need to get a proper introduction:

alton: boyfriend forever / for life, depending on your preference.
pam-i-mean-sam-sams: bbbfff (extra letters may have been added for emphasis)
be matey brady: well i never see him anymore, actually. he is on his way to becoming a famous improv comedian entertainer. but i promise to let you know, internet, if he ever is around again.


martin the martian: he actually doesn't like being a martian. i don't blame him. he does like, however, playing scrabble in the grass while eating fistfuls of coconut. all of which i strongly endorse.
justin OF THE FUTURE. justin is actually of the past too, but he has been gone for what feels like three lifetimes and is closer to a year, being a grecian person in greece. so he is currently of the future. plus sometimes he is a prophet. unfortunately he is also for the moment invisible, since i don't have any convenient pictures of him.


those are the people in my life. if more people come in i will introduce you to them too.

oh dear and it is already 1 o'clock. i promised to try to go to sleep again at 1 o'clock. well, i will let you know a hint: i did go outside on the very last day of august, year of our lord, 2009.

today is an amazing outside day

except i came home and started packing and then got on the computer
and i did not go outside.

why is it so hard to go out of my house by myself?

why is it that i always run out of boxes?

why is it that i always run away?



here is what i am going to do, internet. and i will have to, because otherwise tomorrow i will have to report my own distressing failings.

i will
1) create a roastbeef-colby-tomato-avocado sammich
2) wash some raspberries
3) pack some coconut
4) go outside
5) walk
6) find some adventures


if i do not do this, you will find out tomorrow. and i will be a little bit ashamed.


it is funny because i think that avacado looks better than avocado. you just don't say it that way. same goes with rasberries. razzle-dazzle-berries and polka-dot-faeries and smish-smoshed-cloud-rayries

that last one wasn't a word except in my head. just a tip from me to you, internet, it's okay to make up words.

i really am scared of how people change.

the only reason i am not scared of alton changing is because he has already decided he will always love me. even if he does change. so it is okay if he changes, but nobody else can.

this summer was interesting because i tried to make time for a lot more people in my life. and then i realized that not everyone was making time for me.

so the people that were i hung out with. and the people that didn't, i didn't.

it makes life a lot simpler when you think about it that way.

today i had a marvelous idea! what if --

oh no. i cannot tell you. because i might use this idea later in my life. oh dear. i will give you a hint. when i was sleeping i dreamed about finding christy's wedding invitation (i couldn't remember what time the wedding was going to be held) and expiration dates.

last night i dreamed also about these things: my cousin, seiji, traveling, old blue sweatshirts, dustbins, falling.

it's funny because in my dream i fell. but i knew i couldn't die, since i was writing the story. so i made myself tiny and fell on seiji. and then everything was okay. except that i was miniature. i don't think i ever solved that problem. but at least i wasn't dead! you have to give me credit for that one.

this weekend was my sister's tea party birthday. it's funny because she is still so much a kid, even though she is turning 13. our family somehow manages to trick us into being children for much longer than the rest of the world.

alton was talking in the car about how he would go to dance parties every friday. this was at age 14? 15? i can't imagine this. when i was 14 i still viewed the world like a child. the most grown up thing i did at age 14 was have a crush on my orchestra stand partner. but i didn't talk to him. not because i was shy, exactly.

i'm not a particularly shy person. mostly because he was grown-up and i was a little girl.
but of course i wanted to go grow up! that wasn't the problem. i just didn't know how.

eventually things changed. when i got a car, and a job. and eventually a boyfriend. these things helped. but even this, the first three months of dating, i didn't see my boyfriend outside of school. except once. over winter break. at the library.

i guess this is less normal than i realized. but i am not bitter. i used this time to read books. and talk online. and write. and daydream. and paint my room with my hands. and who knows what else. i was pretty happy with myself, in the end.

okayokay sorry

i am pretending the internet is a person that i want to impress very very much. i will impress the internet and make my life sound dee-lii-ght--fulll.

dear internet,

the roommate has left now. celebrated her birthday saturday. oriental lilies, hello kitty balloons, some sort of creamy mixed drink, tarot cards? i know, i know internet the tarot cards were a little bit unlike me. i just watched and smiled and went on pretending i wasn't scandalized. alton squeezed my hand pretty much every time he passed me. i think he likes me. well you know how that goes, at this rate i'll be married before the christmas mass.

dear internet,

it's no use pretending. i am not a happy bug. in fact, i am not even a bug. i am not even existing at the moment. i am just thinking about existing, and let me tell you, thinking about exisisting has not lead me to belive that further commitment to existence is a good idea, not in the least. i have an appointment with a human body next week, though, so at this rate i might find myself existing without even realizing i signed the consent form. & those things are full of the awfulest stuff the soul gives up all rights to have own thoughts apart from body. the soul will give at least 46 years notice before vacating the premises. all the other souls assure me that they are not binding. all i have to do is make a deal with physics or nature or even get my body to kill itself, and i can be free. i suspect that it gets much more complicated than that, and all the exceptions are more horrific than the slow catastrophe of aging to death.
what does a body really have, anyways, that is better than now. right now i am able to afford the daily, even momentary passages between earth and sky. with a body, the expenses become enormous. what if i miss the sky? what if i spend my whole life wishing i were a spirit again?
plus, you only get one chance. i'm not ready. i'll probably screw up everything the day i try to live. and the human body-- it's filthy. and not just with dirt, although there is plenty of that to spare. humans are pretty much always corrupted. and stupid. really really stupid. so stupid sometimes that the human body gets carried away with its filth and stupidity and pretends that it doesn't have a soul. and those souls! o, those souls cry every night. you can hear them, even from up here. they hate their human bodies that have betrayed them and yet they love them too-- how horrifying a fate, to be with a body so stupid it cuts itself off from its own life.

no, i can't do this. it's better if i don't. existence would be ... nice. but its much better left up to beautiful people. crafty people. happy people. being the soul of a human being is much to dangerous.


sincerely, kt

my hands are sticky. the house smells like bleach. and the sewer. my heart is squishy. there are three bruises on my legs. my pink shirt has chocolate on it. three million clothes are on the floor. my house now includes four gnats. there is no longer air conditioner ( i wasn''t using it, but it makes me feel pathetic, regardless ) the outside is loud. the inside is louder (c'est incroyable, mais vrai ) . i am not wearing socks.

these are all things i want to change.


but i am le tired.


today did not go as planned. the letter i wrote did not go as planned. i think i write too much of myself into my letters and i spend the rest of the day feeling grumpy.

i know that if i just start everything will be okay. i hope that if i just start everything will be okay.

hello hello.

cousins are marvelous creatures, are they not? splendid and atmospheric and grand

i was a cousin this weekend. we all ate too much ice cream and played quiddler and 5 crowns excessively. the girls braided eachother's hair and went sun bathing, the guys (all growed up now, i guess) had beers and talked big fancy dreams about boats named the allie francis and vacations across the world. everyone went to barnes & noble and had at least one cup of starbucks per day.

we also cleaned the kitchen for grandmother (all except the last night, oh dear) and sat around almost scared of eachother for moments and went walking to the park for the swings and for our puppy dog.

with my aunt we talked sewing and furniture and hostessing. is this steryotypcial? she is slightly steryotypical but i love her dearly. with my uncle we had our philosophical and mostly theological differences. and with everyone we had fun.

theend

sometimes in a relationship you keep using the same methods over and over to communicate with him.
The same phrases.
the same speeches.
the tendency turn all of his statements into philosophical questions.
The same impulses to give a burst of affirmation that will be the hammer to crack the berlin wall.

And guess what. if they didn't work the 33rd time, they probably won't work the 578th time.

last night i tried to be completely honest.

it's something i'm learning how to do.

i told me ex-boyfriend i couldn't marry him.

which, unsuprisingly, he responded that he didn't expect me to.

i put him in an odd position. 'but i think we've both moved on'

he said, every time he stated a past emotion.

sometimes i think i live in the past, present and future simultaneously.


part of me feels like i died last night.
it was a quiet, gentle sleep
the boat slipping out into the water
white lace against the current
washing away into time.

but that is what God calls us to do, isn't it?
to love and die. and be resurrected.

i really like being a christian. i just want to say that. okay.

i am a socially addicted ice-cream eater and it has been one day and forty one hours since I have eaten ice cream.

today and simillarly ephermeral topics

today i talked to many people. but everyone is busy on sunday nights.

sunday rainday clouday. it does not feel like such a sunny day to me.

perhaps i will take a walk. with my book and a crook. and find a cat to be my friend.

maybe i will sit outside and watch the world go bye.


in the end today was not a happy day. there were too many closed doors (my housemate's) and numbers and waiting.

wait wait wait

what am i waiting for?

well i will tell you. letters, from my samfriend, and conversations from my otherfriends, and calls from my altonfriend.

this is because i am too dependent, isn't it.
too dependent on other people.

i will go read a bookfriend.
shhh everything's gonna be ok.

today i am trying my new theory of being beautiful.

so far i am stupendous just okay. my dad emails me.

it was nothing surprising, just tiny vengeful pinpricks.

alton does not make want me to be in active warfare with my father. but how do you stop open warfare without being Neville Chamberlain ?

i will wait. make no sudden movements. you never know who is watching.

the letter of the day is L

when it is late
i like to write
and sometimes walk
into the night

and sometimes sigh
and sometimes say
everything will be okay

i like to think
of sweet romance
and small green pillows
thrown askance

and the hurried whispers
true love makes
while eating stacked Hungarian crepes

my nose may bleed
my head will ache
but still my heart loves, laughs
and listens.



kinda a cop out. but how else will the title make any sense at all to me in 20 years/ hm?

there is nothing but sleepiness in this house today

the feeling of never quite awake

but almost there

what i'm actually thinking about right now is my father.

i told him i am going to be NOT going down on thursday, but on friday, which is the day i originally was planning on going until he told me i was mistaken the day before.

'work won't let you off, huh?'

for a second my world stood frozen solid still and the cellphone started melting like an ice cream sundae and i knew I KNEW i swear i knew that this was it. the moment.

'no dad.'

'my cousins are coming the same weekend and i want to see them before i come down'

you do realize, my friends, my darlings, what i just did. i can break it down for you.

1) i said no to my father
2) this was not because i 'couldn't help it', it was because i wanted to do something else, geez, for a change.
3) the something else was see my mother's side cousins
4) i put my mother in front of my father
5) i specifically choose my mother over my father and declared my eternal allegiance to destroying my father and everything he stood for.


obviously he did not take it very well.


the tapes, they tell me my father is a controller.

well thanks tapes i noticed. why do you think i run away far away from him and play orphans in the woods? it is not exactly an accident.

what do i really have to offer anybody?

i am listening to these tapes, tapes about people. about me. they tell me that i'm a 'pleaser', i please people. sometimes i am an 'avoider'. i avoid problems. emotional problems, intellectual-sounding problems that are actually emotional problems, and even pink-bubble-gum-or-blue-bubble-gum sort of problems. the tapes, they tell me that i might not have an identity. when someone asks me what i think i say


i don't say what i think . i just look at them and try to guess: What do you think i will say?

and then i don't say anything


but i'm not.

don't get me wrong, i'm not

complaining. this is not a bad thing, it wasn't a bad thing until the tapes, they keep playing in my ears and tell me i got to change, change, change like the commericals for Brad McKinley's New Auto Show in West Chester just off Cin-Day Road. Come in and finally have a change!

i need some better psychological problems, or something.

i forgot about this!

isn't that what always happens? but now sam has one. a real one.
(it's real because other people know about it)
i know about it

maybe i can be real too


yesterday was interesting because abhijeet asked me edit his essay. for med school. for freaking med school and he needed it that night?

maybe some people never change

i did edit it. maybe i never change, too.

no, i don't really want to talk anymore.

most depressing post thus far

list of things i hate:
human trafficking
hands that spill innocent blood
the condemning of the innocent
AIDS
government farm subsidies
Waldsterben
cries that go unheard and without comfort.






focusing on hate is probably not a good idea.
but hey, there is a precedent.

if only

i want to use my computer up until it crashes

this is what i want to do
i want to crash

i want to use myself up
to have a fever and burn myself away
from haste and lack of foresight
and nothing else

why?

why do people think that death is a stranger?

you have always known him,
death is your best friend.
he breathes through you like a poem,
or a riddle,
a person to talk about, when conversation lags
annoying, yes, like most best friends are
and rather single-minded.
but who can understand you better
drunk, or sober, popular or pensive,
he has seen it all before. And once
you realize
he's there, it's rather hard
to keep him off your mind.

i haven't really talked to anyone today.
i took a picture of my ice cubes & cream tea. maybe i will post a picture of it.
but doing so made me feel old. alone. like the people who post on the lj communities i read.
it's funny because i only waste time reading them, i don't even contribute.
whose the one with a pitiful life?
i almost made cookies today but the flour was so expensive. everything is expensive at UDF. except milk. i reckon the milk is priced pretty good.
i hate ethan frome
i don't want to read it. but i have an hour before alton calls.
maybe more. he said around eight
i basically did not a thing all day.
i wish i had gone outside. my roommate likes the air conditioning on. so i think my life
staying here in this apartment
is sterilized. solitary. confinement.

if you want to be depressed, spend a day alone. then another.
if you need another, go ahead, take another day.
now you are absolutely alone.

that is the only step you need. promise.

im going to go look for another book to read.

today i tried to be an archeologist with ice
tip tap scratch
went my knife
today i tried to make iced chai tea
in my grandmother's teapot from japan
thunk thunk bump
went the tea
in the end the tea bags split
and i used up the paper towels

today i made tea ice cubes

i don't really recommend them

new friends in new places

today is a day i will do my best!

we chatted the day away

i asked too many questions
but david was a very kind and considerate fellow

and diana and katch were wonder-if-ous!

now we can only cross our fingers about dinner, dear, that's all we can do.

i am trying to make chai ice tea. more details to follow
<3 kt

jitters
all day
the books leapfrog all over my floor
then up again
i moved the bookshelf.
And my dresser
scooted over to the window
for a better view
i like him better when all the drawers are out
and stacked up like a monument
[what does a deconstructionist
do with a dresser?]
meanwhile
the glass jars rattle softly
in their cardboard cages
that glide around the room, mismatched
and uneasy

i like it. we are much better off this way, blank walls notwithstanding.

two lists

today is a lot of things, like my dirty socks and scuffled brown shoes and curling leather and bacon in my macaroni and an art project that i will never do.

do you know what art project i would really like to do?

it would be a box. a treasure box, actually, that i would build myself and maybe even stain although that is expensive, isn't it? ah but this is art
and on the outside i would cover it. with the lace from my dress that has paint on it and my sparkling fairy stickers and my favorite stationary and the letter i wrote to my grandfather but never sent and chinese calligraphy markings and wax seals and bits of paper and rose petals and the seeds from switzerland i forgot to plant (i'm too wise to plant them now) and everything beautiful that i own

and then you would open the chest, and inside would be dirt. brown clay and mud from the backyard.

wouldn't that be wonderful?

party party party

at the last OTL party of the year, i introduced myself to joe. who is joe? idk, someone from NJ.
And apparently people from New Jersey have a lot of opinions, because he said to me, glancing across the room in opaque pink sunglasses (the theme was hawaiian, so he is not entirely to blame)
"this party is so stereotypical."
i cocked my head slightly. this was not usual party talk.
"everybody here doesn't know how to act at a party, so they just act how they think people act"
he gestured over to the other room vaguely.
"see, there's people dancing, and people trying to get drunk..."
"weelll, i sure don't know what to do at a party" i offered, not wholy unhelpfully.

At that point, however, we were interrupted, by people or music, or a great huge thunderclap from the Roman God himself, i can't really remember.

but i can't get away from this thought.

it echoes alton's explanation as to why people dance the way they do at parties, too.
"it looks like a lot of guys think that they're supposed to like it"


what is with us? by us i am kindly including the entire generation. i think we have problems.