"This fall I think you’re riding for - it’s a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn’t permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement’s designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn’t supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn’t supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started."
“Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them - if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry.”
Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.
You’ve got the best of both worlds. You’re the kind of girl who can take down a man and bring him back up again. You are strong, but you’re needy. Humble, but you’re greedy, and based on your body language and shoddy cursive I’ve been reading, your style is quite selective, but your mind is rather reckless. Well I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is. Oh what a beautiful mess this is. It’s like picking up trash in dresses. Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write kind of turn themselves into knives. Now don’t mind my nerve, you could call it fiction, but I like being submerged in your contradictions. Dear, here we are. Here. We. Are. Although you are biased, I love your advice. Your comebacks, they’re quick, and probably have to do with your insecurities. There’s no shame in being crazy, depending on how you take these words I’m paraphrasing this relationship we’re staging. Oh what a beautiful mess this is. It’s like picking up trash in dresses. Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say kind of turn themselves into blades. And kind and courteous is the life I’ve heard, but it’s nice to say that we played in the dirt. Oh dear, cause here we are. Here we are. We’re still here. What a beautiful mess this is. It’s like taking a guess when the only answer is yes. Through timeless words and priceless pictures, we’ll fly like birds not of this earth. And tides they turn and hearts disfigure, but that’s no concern when we’re wounded together. And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts, but it’s nice today. Oh the wait was so worth it.
However, I did get to ogle gorgeous gay waiters at Joe’s last night; that was delicious.
I’ve quarantined myself, and after Manda tucked me in, she placed tons of books, movies, and other goodies around my bed. My nightstand is COVERED in different bowls of foods, pretty much anything I could ever ask for.
The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in.
I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly
As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.
I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.
I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses
And my history to the anesthetist and my body to surgeons.
They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff
Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut.
Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in.
The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble,
They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps,
Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another,
So it is impossible to tell how many there are.
My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water
Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.
They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep
Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage
My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox,
My husband and child smiling out of the family photo;
Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks.
I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat
Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.
They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations.
Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley
I watched my teaset, my bureaus of linen, my books
Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head.
I am a nun now, I have never been so pure.
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free -
The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,
And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.
It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them
Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.
The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.
Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe
Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.
Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.
They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down
Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color,
A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.
Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,
And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.
Before they came the air was calm enough,
Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.
Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.
Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river
Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine.
They concentrate my attention, that was happy
Playing and resting without committing itself.
The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.
The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,
And comes from a country far away as health.
Why the hell isn’t youtube working to my advantage!?! I’m getting extremely irritated. I can’t get my face to match up with the audio; I’m not okay with that. But I will figure it out.
Leah came by today to see Jenna and I, then we all went out to Chili’s for lunch. It was great; I love my friends. I lent her “The Reader”, which is a fantastic novel by the way, and I’m excited to see how she interprets it. I’ve got notes in the margins and things highlighted all over the place, and I think that’s going to make her understand why I love the book that much more.
Coleman Barks is tonight, and Manda, Alyssa, and I are meeting up with Nick. I’m so anxious to see what Rumi readings he discusses; I’m hoping they’re not the love poems. I want to hear things about individual triumph, independence, and success.
I got sick this morning. Jordan and I talked on skype for a good two hours, and he was sick. Now he’s telling me I’ve contracted an “STD”… I can’t stop coughing, and it makes my tattoo hurt really bad. I’ll post a picture of it very soon though; it looks incredible.
After I get back from Coleman Barks tonight, I plan on laying around my dorm all weekend alone. It’s going to be all about me this weekend. Catching up on homework, playing dorky video games, reading another book, and getting better.
You are granite. I am an empty wineglass. You know what happens when we touch! You laugh like the sun coming up laughs at a star that disappears into it. Love opens my chest, and thought returns to its confines. Patience and rational considerations leave. Only passion stays, whimpering and feverish. Some men fall down in the road like dregs thrown out. Then, totally reckless, the next morning they gallop out with new purposes. Love is the reality, and poetry is the drum that calls us to that. Don’t keep complaining about loneliness! Let the fear-language of that theme crack open and float away. Let the priest come down from his tower, and not go back up!
I got tattooed today. I can officially say that I’m a step closer to getting over him. I laid there on the table for a little over an hour, and it hurt so bad. However, Keet instructed me to channel that energy somewhere else. So I did. I clutched Jenna’s hand, and thought about how bad everything has hurt, and how I’m so ready to be done with all of this and move on to something better.
My tattoo is beautiful. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I’m incredibly happy with how it turned out. Pictures to follow as soon as I can take the bandage off.
I bought a webcam today, so videos are going to be coming soon. Manda and I are doing this together. :)
Oh, and I decided to read “The Reader”. It was phenomenal, and I definitely recommend it. I finished it in a little under two days. It takes place before and after the Holocaust, which is probably why I love it so much. I can’t help in taking pleasure in learning about that horrific event. Does that make be a wee bit sociopathic?
Take me home. I’d rather die than be with you. Take me home. You have a problem with the truth. Take me home. Because this happens every time, and I knew it would. I knew it would.
Him: “Don’t say that. It hurts me when you say it.”
The Mexican party turned into a complete disaster. My surprise fucked me in the ass- not literally, as that was preferred. I discovered the hair tie is no longer mine, witnessed him grabbing all over a fat chick (probably a side effect of listening to Manda’s voicemail), talking up some woman with the biggest nose I’ve ever seen, and now have bruises on my wrists from being pinned up against the wall and yelled at.
Me: “You’re hurting me.”
Him: “I know.”
That statement, in my drunken stupor, was in regards to my wrists. Now thinking back on it, the phrase has nothing to do with them at all. It’s everything else.
The first half of the evening was nice. As I was preparing to take a shot, Manda says “turn around”. I do so, and see him smiling at me, leaned up against the wall. I was ecstatic, and had no idea what to do. After the excitement passed- well, it never really did- after the excitement simmered down, we made an agreement (which neither of us really held up), took tequila shots and read Rumi. Pre-game turned into pre-wasted, as Ben had warned me not to do. Four shots of tequila, a woodchuck, and two coronas had me gone. As soon as I left the party, he did. Why was he even there?
I drink to have fun, to stop thinking about him, how miserable I am without him in my life. Now it’s kicking my ass, and I’m having a very long, voluntary discussion tonight with my parents about it. I need to fix all of this.
Why do I love a good asshole? You are my other half, the only thing that makes me feel complete. Why won’t you give us another shot? You never stopped loving me, I can tell. The way you look at me, the way you run your hands through my hair, the way you call me baby and say I love you, your jokes that keep me smiling for days, the phrases that you’ve got me repeating, the way you mock every aspect of my existence, how you have the audacity to tell me how to wear my hair, your smile that shines like a thousand suns, warming every inch of my body to the core. Everything about you makes me tingle, and I can’t shake this feeling off. It’s here to stay.
I went to Walmart to pick up some pictures, and argued with the “photo technician” for twenty minutes because some of my pictures… paintball pictures… were copywrited. I was insanely angry. So I didn’t get to pick up those; he let me look at them, all beautiful and whatnot, then I watched him push them through the shredder. I wasn’t okay with that.
From there I went to Barnes and Noble, where I bought a POCKET EDITION of Rumi, so I can read him on the go without having to carry the massive book around. I love it so much.
And the last half of Grey’s I caught was fantastic. So much drama.
The inventor of Speghettios died. Therefore, I’ve got a big, giant bowl of them sitting in front of me.
I walked around like a zombie for the greater half of the day, feeling like total shit.
I bought my ticket for the Take Action tour!
Blair, Jenna, and I suffered through Environmental Science, where we listened to how the world is going to end.
Grey’s Anatomy (to my knowledge) returns!
I came to the realization that I’ve got a little peace of mind, especially these past few days.
I played the penis game with Manda… and won.
I witnessed a severely obese man in a white wife-beater walking around campus. I’m not okay with that.
A professor came into my music class and talked about the study abroad program, detailing a trip to Italy. It was a total tease, because by the end, I was aching to go. Then he mentioned it’s five grand. No thanks, get ouf of my classroom.
Jenna went with me to my RA information meeting, only to find that either I went to the wrong place or it was canceled. I wasn’t happy.
Manda and I have plans all weekend long, and I’m so excited. :)
It’s been quite a day, and it’s only 4:10. Let’s see where the night leads.
1. I like Radiohead 2. I walk up the stairs two at a time 3. I have witnessed a moshpit 4. I have experienced a moshpit 5. I once caught a fish on vacation 6. I have punched/attacked a teacher 7. I have seen someone die 8. I have made fried dough 9. I have been in a New York City taxi 10. My hair is its natural color 11. A movie had made me cry 12. A book has made me cry 13. A song has made me cry 14. I have been saved by a lifeguard 15. I am for the death penalty 16. There have been times when I seriously wished I could kill myself. 17. I know someone else who attempted suicide. 18. I don’t show my emotions. 19. I am a pessimist. 20. I usually have no self confidence. 21. People have told me they trust me. 22. There is a TV in this room. 23. I am next to a window. 24. I have given directions to someone in a car. 25. Someone has borrowed something and not given it back yet. 26. I’m a perfectionist. 27. I usually try not to bring attention to myself. 28. My parents want to know what I have for homework. 29. We sometimes watch musicals in music class. 30. I’m using a mac computer. 31. I’m home alone. 32. I’m an oldest child. 33. I have a belt on. 34. It’s studded. 35. I have plans for today. 36. We’re allowed to chew gum at school. 37. I live for summer. 38. Sometimes I act like I have OCD. 39. I could people-watch all day. 40. I’ve tried to be a vegetarian. 41. Really skinny people annoy me. 42. Lime green is an awesome color 43. I can touch my thumb to my pinkie around my wrist. 44. I can know someone’s scent and know they’re near me. 45. My parent(s) is/are a health freak. 46. I try to use correct spelling/grammar on the computer. 47. I know the difference between its and it’s. 48. Dr. Pepper is my favorite soda. 49. I can get very annoyed by happy people. 50.I wish my hair was naturally curly. 51. I’m sarcastic a lot. 52. I’m at least a little bit Irish. 53. I don’t tell people’s secrets. 54. I don’t like the name Peg. 55. I’ve slipped on a banana peel. 56. I’m very ticklish. 57. I give people the silent treatment when I’m mad instead. 58. I wear my pajama pants to school. 59. Swallowing pills is difficult for me. 60. I get scared in elevators. 61. I’ve been in a car for 7 hours straight. 62. I like going on the subway. 63. I’ve seen the same movie twice in a row. 64. Sometimes I wish I could get plastic surgery 65. I have fallen down the stairs. 66.I prefer pools to oceans. 67. I have stayed up until 2:00 doing homework the whole time. 68. I’ve cried myself to sleep 69. It would almost be worth breaking a leg to use crutches. 70. I’ve fainted in public. 71. I hate bermuda shorts. 72. Big lips are attractive. 73. I like milk in my tea 74. I never wear skirts. 75. My nails are fake. 76. I can swear in different languages. 77. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. 78. A stranger has tried to give me money. 79. Lipstick is uncomfortable. 80. My favorite band broke up. 81. I have some friends in my neighborhood. 82. I pack my own lunches for school. 83. I hate words with too many consonants together. 84. I’ve gone three days without taking a shower. 85. Laptop mouses are impossible. 86. I have dropped something today. 87. My away message is always up to avoid people. 88. I’ve worn earphones/headphones without music to avoid people. 89. People have complimented my handwriting. 90. I know what aperture and shutter speed are. 91. I say like a lot, even though I try not to. 92. My pinkies are crooked. 93. I have a sibling in college. 94. I’ve danced in the rain before. 95. I know who wrote Great Expectations. 96. I don’t know how to do the laundry. 97. I hate doing the dishes. 98. I make index cards for school even when they’re not required. 99. I love making microwave s’mores 100. I have meditated before.