April 2008- February 2006

Saturday, April 26, 2008

*memories* Also I hope you aren’t dead :S

Looking through these…I am so damn quotable. Why the fuck am I not on a T-shirt???

Oh wait..I am.

And so are YOU Robert!!!

7:06 PM

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Fuck off then, back to entertaining MYSELF!

Current mood:  pissy

Category: Writing and Poetry

This week’s theme: verbs.

extirpate (EK-stuhr-payt) verb tr.

1. To destroy completely.

2. To pull up by the roots.

[From Latin extirpare (to root out), from stirps (stem, root).]

Today’s word in Visual Thesaurus: http://visualthesaurus.com/?w1=extirpate


Shut up, shut up, shut up. Disloyal thoughts must be ruthlessly extirpated.

Gene Kerrigan; Screw Democracy, Here’s Dear Leader; Irish Independent

Monday, April 14, 2008

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,


that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.


if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine

10:25 PM

my hell comes from inside

comes from inside myself

why fight this

My friend  is sick. If I knew his address I’d send him chicken broth and saltines….

I’d bury him with it.

I don’t know where my friends are. I think my karma finally caught up to my dogma. Basically I just want a friend that I can talk to, (the one that is sick would have been great, but cest la vie. No, I don’t speak French. I’m not HER.

Josh has been great, but it isn’t healthy to go to him with every stupid problem I have. He is too good a person to do that, and has already done so much for Elvis and I that if I spent 600 lifetimes I would never be able to repay him his kindness.

I called Heather, no answer Called her mom’s to see if she was there, no answer, she just now txt’d me. She is at work.

I miss everything and everyone. I feel like shit today. Felt like shit yesterday. Felt like shit last month, felt like shit since August of 2007.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

I am sorry for being such a crappy friend.

11:13 AM

Been listening to Tori all morning..makes me sad sad sad.

It amazes me how letting water go under the bridge can just destroy a friendship. What is even more shocking is how the more time that passes, the more you think about that person you have lost, and yet at the same time, you feel too gone to do anything about it. You just listen to Tori Amos and miss her.

Gotta be a sacrifice.

Maybe I am hoping that one day we will find each other again, and start over like we used to..just doesn’t seem plausible anymore.

I hear she still grants forgiveness, although I willingly forgot her…..

11:54 AM

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Thank you, Billie Holiday (and Fiona)

The very thought of you and I forget to do

The ordinary things that everyone ought to do.

I’m living in a kind of daydream, I’m happy as a king,

Foolish though it may seem, to me that’s everything.

Still early..house is quiet..and I am alone, feeling romantic.

If I had you here we’d be dancing..or rather, I’d say “We should dance” and then I’d blush and remember that I don’t know how to dance..and I’d be way too shy to try it with you watching. Funny thing is..when you are around, I can’t even talk. All I can do is look at you…

I guess when you met me it was just one of those things

But don’t ever bet me cause I’m gonna be true if you let me

I bet if you read this you would wish I’d shut up already..and then maybe accuse me of being too much like you when you were my age. Asshole.

I am not claiming to know a thing about love…or being in love, or hell, I don’t even know what a relationship is about. I know how to lie, cheat, steal, and charm. I know how to fuck and flirt and manipulate..but I can not be myself, and I sure as hell don’t know how to handle any kind of emotion that leaves me open and vulnerable. I tend to smash those down…

Dreaming, I was only dreaming

I wake and I find you asleep

In the deep of my heart here

Darling I hope

That my dream never haunted you

My heart is tellin’ you

How much I wanted you

Gloomy sunday

Lyrics do a pretty good job..you have always understood before when I’d send you a line or 6…

Maybe we are too alike.. maybe I should forget it.. maybe I should squash this one down too..

I don’t wanna and you can’t make me.

I have spent a bit of time looking at myself. For the most part, I see the things I loathe…used to be all I could see. You might say “quit moaning and stop being a pussy”. That’s what I would say, and do say to myself..alas….

I have good qualities:

I am fiercely loyal to the things I am passionate about…

I can see the value, or lack thereof, of my relationships with people..

People tell me I am very smart..but that might be more of a bad thing than a good thing..

I know my weakness, and yours..and theirs.

I cherish my son above all else, and hope that he will be proud of his momma when he grows up…

Now for the bad….

I’d say the worst thing about me is my pride and my cowardice. I have some incredible people in my life. Namely, and in order of appearance: Bluey, Heather, and Josh.

They have been great friends to me, and I have yet to return the favor. The reason for this is because I am too damn scared to admit that I need them, to admit that it is OKAY to need them, and to admit that I have been wrong, and that what I have been wrong about is not trusting them.

Trust is a big thorn in my side. It goes deeper than any other vice…

It is something I will be working on the rest of my life, so please, everyone mentioned above, even you, be patient.

I hate myself for being able to distance myself from those that love me. I hate how easy it is, as it appears to them, to cut all ties and leave.

They don’t (or maybe they do) see the damage I do to myself because of it. Heather once said “You do these things, you tell these people the worst, and then you go and do it. It’s like you WANT to prove to yourself that you are a bad person”.

If she knew how much that hit home, she’d smile..or cry. She cries easily. I envy her for her strength. That is one human that is in touch with her emotions, and everyone elses, for the most part. Hell..I know if she read this she’d already know everything I said anyway..but maybe she’d appreciate me saying it.

Women are funny like that.

Yesterday my therapist asked about Josh..and why he said I seemed distant. That opened up a whole can ‘o worms. It’s the same old song and dance. They get too close, I back off. and then I run away. It isn’t what I want to do, it’s what I  just naturally do.  Then she asked why, if I  wanted him as a friend, why I would be so quick to distance myself, and I started to cry a bit..and couldn’t talk..

I can’t cry. I have never in my life (okay once when Elvis almost died) let myself just cry. If it starts, I do anything I can to get my mind off of whatever it was that triggered it. Been like that my whole life. These things, these “feelings” have to go somewhere..and it’s becoming pretty fucking obvious where they go.

8:34 AM

Saturday, August 26, 2006

9 in the morning and I want a drink…

Current mood:  sad

Apparently “drunk-ish” is the only time this doesn’t hurt. I hate being right. If there was a club for right-ness, I would be El Presidente.

So I went out last night, drank it up, got a new tattoo, Eye of Ra if you want to know. Got money for the jukebox from random strangers, a sheriff gave me a deputy sticker. Had a lot of fun, mixed, mingled. I miss working in bars. At least those people pretend to like you.

So, anyone here that has known me for any length of time knows the story of the guy from New Orleans. As all good fairytales go, it came crashing to a bitter end. Just like Romeo and Juliet, but with more swearing, and cock teasing.

On the plus side, we are still alive. Now we play the “who can piss of whom the best”. Not my favorite game, but I do what I can. We both have other people interested in us, both have friends telling us to get over it already.

What I want hasn’t changed. Somewhere on this planet there is a man for me. Someone I can love and get love in return. OR I turn bitter and hate all men for these wounds that open up with each new relationship..but I don’t want that.

goddamnit don’t we all just want to be happy?

So, no more being the bitch. Robert, I’m sorry how things ended, sorry all we do is hurt each other. To his friends, sorry about writing you…I guess we all get a little crazy.

I wish you happiness, and all your wishes granted. Thanks for the happy memories, I’ll try and remember that instead of the sad ones.

My status is single for a reason, guys. I want the world, instead I get offered pieces of happiness. Not good enough. I am not interested in the casual, or meeting people off the computer. That never works out.

Jesus I wish school would hurry up and start.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Just so you all know…

I hate smoking a cigarette right after applying lip-gloss. It’s slimy.

4:02 PM

We love Star Trek 🙂

In no particular order, here are the Top 40 Reasons Why We Love Star Trek:

1. Phasers. They shoot, they score! And they can heat rocks.

2. Tricorders. Because they can detect anything a plot requires.

3. The transporter. For when you want to get away.

4. The original U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701. (No bloody A, B, C, D, E or NX!)

5. Triskelion. Because humans are just damned good entertainment value.

6. Trelane. Auditions for the role of Q start here.

7. Hyposprays. Much better than hypersprays.

8. Kirk. Because he can beat up any captain in Starfleet. And most aliens. Don’t leave home without him.

9. Spock. Because he defies logic.

10. McCoy. Immortal lines for an immortal character. Alas, he’s dead Jim.

11. Uhura. The real lady in red.

12. Chekov. Because Khan remembered him.

13. Sulu. Because of his half-naked sword time.

14. Scotty. He is smart. He makes things go.

15. Captain Pike. Still rockin’ it on Talos IV.

16. The Talosians. It seems it all went to their heads.

17. All those beautiful guest stars. In soft focus, of course.

18. The Passion of the Kirk. Inspiration through the ages.

19. Those short, short skirts. Those skimpy outfits! When will designers incorporate these fashions for real?

20. Mudd’s women. A great threesome.

21. Klingons. They weren’t really bad, just written that way.

22. Romulans. Sometimes a straight bowl cut says it all.

23. Tranya. Because things go better with it.

24. Balok. You know, the one that gave you nightmares.

25. The Gorn. Once again, Kirk was smarter. But then again, the Gorn was reptilian. Probably too hot for him out there at Vasquez Rocks.

26. Kirk vs. Computers. The original computer hacker.

27. Edith Keeler.The Sergeant Sarah Brown of Star Trek. (If they ever do a Star Trek musical.)

28. Tribbles. Because they taste like chicken.

29. Fizzbin. A perfect game for any day. Except Tuesdays.

30. Redjac. What you get when you mix Jack Daniels and Redrum.

31. Gary Seven’s “exceiver.” We don’t know what it does, but we hear it’s now available in Japan.

32. The Wild Wild West. No, not the other ’60s TV show. We’re talkin’ the fake West, with the OK Corral and Chekov gettin’ all shot up.

33. Spock’s goatee. You have to ask?

34. The Mugato. Because it’s fun to pronounce.

35. Dr. M’Benga slapping Spock. Let’s face it, haven’t we all wanted to at some point?

36. Kirk’s stunt double. Because of the uh, close resemblance.

37. Spock with a heater. ‘Nuff said.

38. Tongo Rad. To this day, the coolest character name ever devised for a TV show.

39. Hippie Jam. Who knew Spock could have played with the Grateful Dead?

40. Spock’s Brain. Best episode ever? O.K. Chief, would you believe worst episode ever?

9:18 PM

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Chapter 1

CHAPTER I: Down the Rabbit-Hole

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversation?’

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!’ (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled ‘ORANGE MARMALADE’, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

‘Well!’ thought Alice to herself, ‘after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they’ll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!’ (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! ‘I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this time?’ she said aloud. ‘I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think – ‘ (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) ‘ – yes, that’s about the right distance – but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?’ (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. ‘I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think – ‘ (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word) ‘ – but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia?’ (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke – fancy curtseying as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) ‘And what an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.’

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. ‘Dinah’ll miss me very much to-night, I should think!’ (Dinah was the cat.) ‘I hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?’ And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, ‘Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?’ and sometimes, ‘Do bats eat cats?’ for, you see, as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, ‘Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?’ when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, ‘Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!’ She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; ‘and even if my head would go through,’ thought poor Alice, ‘it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.’ For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (‘which certainly was not here before,’ said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words ‘DRINK ME’ beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say ‘Drink me,’ but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. ‘No, I’ll look first,’ she said, ‘and see whether it’s marked “poison” or not’; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked ‘poison,’ it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked ‘poison,’ so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

* * * * * * *

‘What a curious feeling!’ said Alice; ‘I must be shutting up like a telescope.’

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; ‘for it might end, you know,’ said Alice to herself, ‘in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?’ And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

‘Come, there’s no use in crying like that!’ said Alice to herself, rather sharply; ‘I advise you to leave off this minute!’ She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. ‘But it’s no use now,’ thought poor Alice, ‘to pretend to be two people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!’

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words ‘Eat me’ were beautifully marked in currants. ‘Well, I’ll eat it,’ said Alice, ‘and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I’ll get into the garden, and I don’t care which happens!’

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, ‘Which way? Which way?’, holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

7:58 PM

Sunday, June 11, 2006


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

you make me sick

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

tsk freaking tsk

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

i watched pissing porn last night

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

THAT was nasty

I’ve never looked better…and you can’t stand it.. says:


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

i know

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

they were drinking it

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

totally gross

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

you know what scat mean?

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:


I’ve never looked better…and you can’t stand it.. says:


I’ve never looked better…and you can’t stand it.. says:


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

it means when people eat shit

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

and smear it all over themselves

first let’s just unzip your religion down says:

now you know

I’ve never looked better…and you can’t stand it.. says:


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:


first let’s just unzip your religion down says:


4:03 PM

Friday, May 19, 2006


For nothing is hidden, except to be revealed; nor has anything been secret, but that it would come to light.

Mark 4:22

8:55 PM

Wednesday, April 26, 2006


A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.

Albert Einstein

A conversation with an old schoolmate of mine has led to a very interesting revamping of old ideas and prejudices. If one carries an innate fear or disliking of everything that is different or unusual to them into adulthood, immediately shunning those who are less like them, one is not only limiting their experiance, but at the same time enforcing that which we all know to be the root of all ignorance.

I am very guilty of that, and I think most people are. It is rare indeed to find another soul that accepts everyone and every thing as they are, instead of constantly limiting or even  demeaning that which is not.  To live so wrapped up in your own ideas, thoughts, and emotions is a  life I had created for myself, knowing that while I was doing that, people were doing the same to me.

To actually think of all the times I have made snap judgements of something and then later been shown to be a fool, you’d think that would make this path of  “freeing ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion” easier. Sadly, I am one that needs to make the same mistakes over and over before it finally registers.

I have a very small circle of friends, and a very limited idea of what is “good” or what is “desirable”. One comforting thought is that I know there are plenty of people just like me, who see life as one of constant change and evolution. On too many of my habits I have become increasingly ridged, though, and it is with these that deserve the most effort to change.

Many days, lost in thought, I feel like my two-year old son knows more about life than I do. He is very shy, though, and I find myself to be concerned with that. I don’t want him to be withdrawn and introverted like I was, and I don’t want him to live only in his comfort zones like I did, and still do for the most part.

The problem with that is a selfish one. I realize that by pushing him to be more social, I am also pushing myself out there as well..and that is one thing that I am still not comfortable with. The very idea of playdates and meeting strangers and forming new relationships with peers just drains me.

Over the years I have found that a sense of humor will get you through a lot life has to throw at you, and I can say that mine has developed as a defense more than something I actually derive pleasure from. If you can hold on to that personality, the fool, the outgoing liberal loudmouth, then people will take you at face value and not wish for more from you than entertainment.

My biggest dream as a child was to be a hermit. I wanted nothing more than a shack in the woods, quiet, and no people to answer to. Until that day came I’d be satisfied with merely paying lipservice to society, smug in the knowledge that I am smarter than they are, and deserve to remain isolated from their idea on what is normal.

As an adult, I know I am seriously full of shit. I know I’m not that smart, I’ve known smarter, and I know that what is “normal” doesn’t exist anyway. I could tell myself I don’t need anyone till the cows came home, but that wouldn’t make it true. I need my son like I need air to breathe, and I need my family and my friends. So, it would seem I am at a compromise.

11:26 PM

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Go go go

As I have proven this to myself time and time again..me Internet search databases = NOT GOOD KIM!

I have spent the past half hour laughing at Canyon H S graduating year of ’99 here on MySpace. It sickens me the amount of people I remember. NOT ONLY THAT, but no one I actually hung out with or liked (barring Heather) is even on this stupid site. Does that mean I am one of the “plastics”? *shudder*

Before resorting to MySpace, I was busy, yet again, torturing myself with the amount of family buried in Frelsburg, Texas, at one of the oldest Catholic cemetaries in this fine state.

I do that every so often..followed immediatly with a burning desire to dig up my genealogical roots.

Back to Canyon of 99…. I seriously doubt anyone on here from THERE (again, barring Heather) snoops around to gawk at how no one has really changed. Most of the people in the old cliques are still friends… not surprising.

To name a few of who I found here:

Robin, Ryan, Patrick, Todd( jesus, man), Micheal (who I knew would turn out queer, he smacked of it), Kristy, Randi, Nicole, Andy, Jess, Courtney, Brian, Jassin, Ty, Reed, Tara (had/has a overbite), KENNY (this one just blew me away), Eric, Sarah, Brandi…

There are several more I can’t place in my shadowed memories…

I still just can’t get over my little findings. Most of these people I shunned or shunned me in the past. Most of them are my age, and have children..I’d love to see if the “bastard-gene” is hereditary.

Seriously, anyone who experienced what I did in high-school would be just as blown away.

The whole thing has made me feel so dirty…and I am seriously considering taking myself off of this cyber suburbia, merely because I cannot co-exist with these monsters. Ha.

1:38 AM

Monday, March 27, 2006

Everything you ever wanted to know about prime numbers

Current mood:  okay

Because I often get to sleep reciting prime numbers in my head… here we go. What is a prime number?  How can you find prime numbers?  What’s the ‘Sieve of Eratosthenes’?  What’s the largest known prime?

A prime number is a positive integer that has exactly two positive integer factors, 1 and itself. For example, if we list the factors of 28, we have 1, 2, 4, 7, 14, and 28. That’s six factors. If we list the factors of 29, we only have 1 and 29. That’s 2. So we say that 29 is a prime number, but 28 isn’t.

Another way of saying this is that a prime number is a whole number that is not the product of two smaller numbers.

Note that the definition of a prime number doesn’t allow 1 to be a prime number: 1 only has one factor, namely 1. Prime numbers have exactly two factors, not “at most two” or anything like that. When a number has more than two factors it is called a composite number.

Here are the first few prime numbers:

2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 37, 41, 43, 47, 53, 59, 61, 67, 71, 73, 79, 83, 89, 97, 101, 103, 107, 109, 113, 127, 131, 137, 139, 149, 151, 157, 163, 167, 173, 179, 181, 191, 193, 197, 199, etc.

The Sieve of Eratosthenes

Eratosthenes (275-194 B.C., Greece) devised a ‘sieve’ to discover prime numbers. A sieve is like a strainer that you drain spaghetti through when it is done cooking. The water drains out, leaving your spaghetti behind. Eratosthenes’s sieve drains out composite numbers and leaves prime numbers behind.

To use the sieve of Eratosthenes to find the prime numbers up to 100, make a chart of the first one hundred whole numbers (1-100):

1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9  10

11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20

21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30

31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40

41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50

51  52  53  54  55  56  57  58  59  60

61  62  63  64  65  66  67  68  69  70

71  72  73  74  75  76  77  78  79  80

81  82  83  84  85  86  87  88  89  90

91  92  93  94  95  96  97  98  99 100

1. Cross out 1, because it is not prime.

2. Circle 2, because it is the smallest positive even prime. Now cross out every multiple of 2; in other words, cross out every second number.

3. Circle 3, the next prime. Then cross out all of the multiples of 3; in other words, every third number. Some, like 6, may have already been crossed out because they are multiples of 2.

4. Circle the next open number, 5. Now cross out all of the multiples of 5, or every 5th number.

Continue doing this until all the numbers through 100 have either been circled or crossed out. You have just circled all the prime numbers from 1 to 100!

There is no largest prime number, but the effort to find ever-larger primes is ongoing and you can read about The Largest Known Primes on the Web.

4:46 PM

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Sounds so simple.

Category: Romance and Relationships

I have spent the last few months daydreaming. Daydreaming of finding my one true love. Daydreaming of lost loves…dreams.

I was affected by that twice in my life. Up to this point I would say thats a sad record. In either case, I was never received. I played a part of a man’s fantasy, a man’s desire, maybe a man’s innermost thoughts, and nothing more.

24 years old, and I can’t think of one time that I was loved, and loved as much in return. I can think of my many faces, my many personalities, and the many men that once shared my bed and my body.

I can think of conversations where I would press the notion of love, and belonging, as merely an idea, not as fact.

One of the two was a man who was a stranger to me. Think of the saddest story you’ve heard of unrequited love, and that would be mine. He became, unknowingly, my ideal. My perfect man. I was young, and very easily led by my imagination. I lived inside of myself. I created a world inside myself for him to live. I imagined that he longed for me, that he felt the same. I would be with other men during this time, but he was the one who was with me. Always with me.

As you may guess, nothing tangible came of it. Years passed, my memories of him became like poison to me. I would think of him, say his name aloud…fall asleep every night pretending that he was lying next to me. I am sure now that if he knew all this, he would be quite disgusted.

The second, I am afraid to say, was even less than the first. He was one who only existed in this medium. I never met him, through no fault of my own. He furthered my belief in my love being toxic to recieve. Without word or action, he turned from me. Thought I would only destroy him. Maybe he was right, maybe that is all I am capable of. Of course, I saw it differently.

I thought I was enough, thought that he just needed to see me, to give me a chance. He wouldn’t let it happen, so here I am instead, writing of a second failure.

Now I am alone. The two men I admired and cherished in my thoughts..gone from me. So, what am I to do?

I imagine that it has to get better one day. That, I was too naïve to know what love was. That I was wrong about them. So, I watch his new relationships blossom and struggle, so very much like ours did. I guess a part of me wants him happy, wants him to reach out to someone, even though once I wanted that someone to be me.

I would say that he led me to believe he was unhappy, that he was pretending with her. If that is true, I commend him on his performance. Whatever he is doing, he is doing it well, because she loves him.

As for the first, I have no reminder of him but my own thoughts.

2:25 PM

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Yes, another.

So, reading some of my old journal entries on other websites, I start to wonder.

Writing isn’t a gift, it’s good training.

You train yourself to write everyday, every thought, every opinion. Eventually, you become a writer. Now, I’m not saying you become a good writer, that’s all up in the air at this point.

What I am saying is, to better understand yourself, it will always take a nonpartisan third-party. In this case, what makes a better jury than the Internet?

How well do we know these people who’s thoughts we read? Thos lives we become fascinated with, who’s very souls and dreams we tangle ourselves around??

Not well at all.

We know them about as well as we know your everyday celebrity, for what is a celebrity than just a regular person who’s name is just a bit more well-known than yours or mine?

Some people might read what I write and think little of me, and some might think otherwise..and some others, well maybe they think nothing at all.

I have no problem with that. I write when I feel like it, usually while intoxicated, or working on it, and I don’t think I have anything of interest to talk about.

All I know is pretty much what you see here. My thoughts, opinions, likes, dislikes…petty squabbles and all that. If this isn’t making sense to you, I don’t care. It makes sense to me.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

What I think about you.

I think you are a lying, self-serving piece of trash that will cling to anything that shines.

I think no matter how messed up your life gets, you will always pass the blame on to someone or something else.

I think you are a coward.

I think you wish you were the one using people, when in all actuality, it is you that is being used.

I think you are weak, and too shallow to be remotely intelligent.

I think he, and everyone else, is better off without you.

I think you knew this all along.

1:48 AM

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

I’m sorry for the following blog.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Seems all I can think about these days if what I don’t have, instead of just being happy about what I do have.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop being jealous of other people. Even when I was with Heather, I couldn’t help but envy all she has. A husband..and her own home..and still able to fit in size 4’s.

And then other friends on here, married and happy. They have someone they love in their lives every day. Someone to share the up’s and down’s with, someone to brag to when their baby has a milestone.

Sometimes I feel so defensive about being a single parent that I feel em it..but lately I’ve just been embarrassed. I don’t know what I am going to tell my son when he grows up and becomes curious about his father..

Hell I don’t even know what to think of my own..and he’s dead.

6:07 PM

Friday, February 03, 2006

Me and you and the Bible makes three tonight

Current mood:  thoughtful

Wanna know what irritates me the most???

I’ll tell you anyway.

Religious hypocrites. Now, let me elaborate. I don’t mind if you are religious, and I don’t mind if you are excited about it and want to spread the word, that is fine to me.

It drives me crazy when people take offense to what other non-religious people say, think, wear, eat, sleep with..so on so forth.

What bothers me about this is the same people who preach about an all loving all forgiving God are the SAME people who judge you and me in a heartbeat. Where is that love and compassion then?

Even worse is when you are conversing with these people, or maybe to someone else altogether, and you let slip a “Jesus” or “goddamnit” or what have you, and then 20 people turn around and get all huffy about it.

Now these people…these people are just like anyone else. Divorced, sexually active, maybe they drink or do drugs..not the picture perfect ideal “Christian”. Now, they live their lives as they want, not as God wants, and then turn around to get upset over a freaking word??? That is just ridiculous.

Then you have someone like me. I am not necessarily a religious person. I wasn’t raised to believe in a vengeful, vindictive God, and I certainly am not superstitious enough to believe that by merely saying a name, a word, my poor soul will be condemned. any “God” that petty is one I have no want to please in any shape or form.

Some people hear my opinion, and tell me I’ll regret it when I die and burn in hell. If I burn in hell, then I would have, according to the Scriptures, deserved it. So, what beef would I have with that?

That isn’t what I gather from reading the Bible, though. Look at the people Jesus befriended. Whores, thieves, money-handlers. These were not the people that a typical “Christian” would even have within 20 feet of himself, and certainly would never think to invite into their own home! It says loud and clear that the sheep that strays is the one they go after.

Now, personally, I love religion. All kinds, all forms, all beliefs. I want to get my doctorate in religious studies for Christsake, that should tell you something.

And NO JOSH, I’m not just trying to prove there is no God, and make everyone admit it.

I see the value in faith, and I see that most of what the Bible has to say is common sense.

No duh.

That is where the value lies, at least in my opinion.

Now, seeing as though I wasn’t raised to be God-fearing, I ask you why I should censor myself as not to offend the average, paranoid Christian?

Do you honestly believe God is sitting up in Heaven, with a biiiig notebook, marking down the names of every person that DARE to blaspheme? Shall we go back to the old ways, and stone to death any one who takes the Lords name in vain??  I would think that quite silly indeed. It it not my Lord. I will neither bow nor praise nor try to uproot anything I do not personally buy into.

I can rant about this all day..for it happens to be one of my favorite subjects.

1:48 PM

Friday, February 03, 2006

People on the radio, one down the street

It has its plus sides, and it’s negatives.

It seems the only people with whom you can strike up are the ones you aren’t really interested in. Just like in real life…the men you admire you continue to admire from afar, and the men you connect with you seem to lose all attraction to.

About me

I am great.
This entry was posted in music, Nonsense, politics and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s