Lit blog

[wildsweetone]

keep writing, digress or not as the mood takes you.


i wish we could line up everyone to do this, i bet there's some fascinating life stories among us all.

 

[Senna Jawa]

keep writing, digress or not as the mood takes you.


i wish we could line up everyone to do this, i bet there's some fascinating life stories among us all.

Thank you WSO. And guys, line up!

Texas was good for my poems, I was writing quite a bit, as recorded here:

a realistic poem
​

My best diary entries used to be my poems. I'll find the ones from Texas. Now I got these two from december of 1991, one of them about the rains there:

through my light I hear the rain

orio
​

***

Now it's your turn, WSO, and others too,

 

[wildsweetone]

Now it's your turn, WSO, and others too,

i doubt things that happened in my life are going to interest anyone.

 

[Senna Jawa]

i doubt things that happened in my life are going to interest anyone.

Just post them for us. I was and still am sure that my stories are uninteresting. I have started this "Lit blog" but didn't post here much. Then, on a whim, I posted about The Woodlands. A random chapter from my life. If nobody is interested, there is no harm, I hope. This is just a blog, both for interesting and uninteresting entries.

 

[Senna Jawa]

The Woodlands, Texas (2)

I was assured that our company will take over the world, that we will leave AT&T in dust, etc. But people were coming to work late in the morning, leaving for home early, and I had my doubts right away.

They believed in NeXT. After I had my glimpse of the NeXT operation I told MVP and everybody that it is very dangerous to rely for your own product just on one company, that we badly need a second vendor, that I have misgivings about NeXT. They didn't like my comments. They believed that we and NeXT will take over the world, blah, blah, blah...

They all sounded professionally so liberal, open-minded, enjoying their superb, social, professionally tolerant set-up, great human relations... I could feel that this niceness was only a temporary state of affairs. For the time being our division had too much money, and there was not enough of responsibility, not enough of technical milestones to keep the guys on their toes.

The group was praising their own talent. Sure, some guys were ok, but c'mon, travel a bit around and then tell me about the talent. In Silicon Valley you have dynamic pioneers. They hire talented youngsters who are not only talented but are also brand-new PhDs, who worked intensively for years on similar projects. ... Well, I didn't tell them all this. Actually, two of the managers in The Woodlands didn't even finish their high school, and they were no geniuses. They were just clever, ruthless guys, who belonged to the same church as MVP. MVP was a nice person, but these two... ugh! Perhaps there was enough of talent in The Woodlands, to make the company successful, but they were not the ones who were running the place. MVP allowed the two church fellows to run a big chunk of the operation, while he put down the best manager he had. Soon that best manager had but only two people working in his group instead of running the largest team.

One of my assignments initially was to talk to the guys, to hear them out, let them tell me about the problems that perhaps they would be afraid to ask MVP. And I naively tried to ask guys what they do. several of them were not able to say anything cohertently. One of them after a minute or two points to the box with the manuals, some ten thousand pages. But he wouldn't even open the manual. I made a suggestion that we should have our technical goals stated and explained on diagrams posted on the walls. My suggestion didn't even register in anybody's mind. Soon people were more afraid of me than of MVP. It was irrational but true. Nobody likes to show his/her ignorance and lack of understanding of the larger picture. I stopped asking people about their work soon.

The religion at work was the NeXT station and the OOP (Object Oriented Programming). I asked MVP to introduce a professional system of testing our software. His answer was that thanks to OOP it's not necessary!!! He was a very good telecommunication engineer, but here he was so naive! He was brainwashed by the OOP advocates.

They had meetings about OOP, where the lector (one of the employees) would draw happily some "OOP-clouds" on the board, representing different software modules. I raised my hand and told him, that the diagram has to be organized in a different way, so that it will represent something sensible and perhaps useful. He answered that that's not the point, that he's showing the advantage of the OOP in general. But everybody was already convinced about the advantage of the OOP. Such meetings are horribly demoralizing, unethical. Anyway, they stopped inviting me to the meetings. Fine.

So, the idea of my colleagues coming to me with questions was dead, and I didn't have to go to any meetings (so much better), while I still had a very challenging project to work on.

 

[fire child]

since I often come to this board, just to rant a little, and get help for ideas that come from my experiences, I think this 'lit blog' is a wonderful idea, Madame Senna.
I can think of nothing right now now in my life that cheers me any. Except posting here, and seeing this--
I started a quick little prattle to post here, and it became something scary. And because I didn't like what I saw, I'm posting it. I need to learn to face my s.
And I apologize in advance.

something I've been wanting to get off my chest...little secrets I can't tell anyone...sometimes not even myself...secrets are destroying my mind...

I have 3 online journals nobody knows about.
I failed algebra in high school because my teacher let another student grade papers, and she changed my answers.
The love of my life tried to rape me because he was high. His dealer found out and shot him. I could have stopped hiim. I didn't.
I am Apache by heritage, grew up with a jewish italian father, and a celtic-druidess mother, but I’m not sure what I believe.
I tell people they shouldn’t drink so much but I drink myself to sleep even on good days.
I am absolutely too terrified to learn to drive on the interstate.
It takes five people to give me a shot, but I have seventeen piercings.
I have a secret about my grandfather, about what really happened the last day I saw him alive that no on knows about. Nobody ever will.
I'm afraid of being a hypocrite. The reason I’m good at everything is because I’m good at nothing. Which makes me a hypocrite.
I am twenty one years old, and have been raped three times.
I hate the color blue, because I was kidnapped when I was fourteen.
I am in love with three guys. Because true love means I will always be.
I have been in love with my first crush since the day I met him. It’s been thirteen years.
I befriend girls I hate out of jealousy, and then I really like them.
I don’t tell them their boyfriends are cheating on them, though.
My pastor in Sunday school told me I wasn’t worth It. Now I know he was right.
I fall in love the second I see someone’s smile and never change my mind.
My best friend’s roomate asked me out. Our plans are for the weekend. My friend doesn’t know. My best friend's a guy. His roomate's a girl.
I am the smartest person I know. My friends with 4.5 GPAs are stupid--they don’t feel.
I've burned down a building. Just to see it burn.
I didn't grow up with my biological parents. I didn't even meet them until I was seven. I told my mom I hated her. I still do.
I hate when people swear. But I do it all the time.
All my friends remind me of my family. Except they end up liking me.
If I left here right now without saying goodbye, I wouldn’t care.
I used to be shy. Then I changed. Then I changed again. Then again.
I fell in love with his soul. He thinks I fell in love with his looks.
I know everything he feels. He still thinks he can fool me. I let him think so.
I’m not sure if I care about him anymore or if I just feel like I should.
I used to love everyone. Now, I cry everytime someone tells me they like me.
I can be trusted with secrets, but I don't trust anyone else with mine.
I never liked my last boyfriend.
I had a miscarriage at sixteen. Twins.
But I went out with him to make the guy I liked jealous. It worked. But then he held my hand.
I hate handholding. I hate being touched. I have to make the first move, or I never trust that person from then on out.
I tell people everything to make up for the fact that I wont tell them the most Important things.
I will always hate him because I know who he really is. but right now I love him because he’s trying to pretend he’s not.
I already know everything I read in psychology books. Without the fancy know-It-all terms.
I have a notebook of poems I was going to give him. But I wont.
He loves me. Or maybe he just loves my body.
I wish I were a guy. I'd piss off people just to start a fight.
I am still in love with the guy from last year. I pretend I don’t care and he’s pretends I never was there.
I've broken nineteen bones.
I hate my family. My mom thinks I'm a whore.
The minute a guy tells me he thinks he loves me, I stop seeing him.
I've slept with my best friend once. He doesn't remember it, he was drunk.
When guys I like get girlfriends, I think how they’re not good enough.
I tell everyone how to fix his or her faults but I’m too afraid to fix my own.
I let my friend think she’s a better singer than me. She’s never heard me try.
I fell in love with my best friend’s brother because he reminded me of myself.
Deep down I’m a narcissistic bitch.
Writing this is making me hate myself.
But it’s also making me Interested in myself. I know so much that no one else does.
I won’t admit that I’m only posting these here so they won’t be secret anymore.
I am more hurt and scared than you will ever know. This tough girl bitch thing? It’s an act.​

...mmm...
...going now...

 

[wildsweetone]

Ginger

One day, long ago, I climbed up on my single bed and peered out my highlight bedroom window. If I stood on my pillows I could just see the ground far below. On this particular day, I saw my dad with a spade and a gun. He dug a hole, quite deep it seemed. I watched as the spade went into the hard ground and the mound of dirt beside the hole grew.

Then my eyes caught movement, so I climbed higher, gripping the windowsill with my fingers as I balanced my feet on the top of the headboard. My head nearly touched the ceiling.

The movement turned out to be our cat, Ginger. It was kind of crawling along the ground, well, its front legs were walking normally, but the back ones were being dragged as it moved. It looked very odd.

I kept watching, my young eyes moving from the cat to the hole dad was busy digging and back to the cat. Then he stopped. He dug the spade into the ground and left it to stand by itself as he always did when working the garden. He bent over and picked up his gun. With one shot the cat was dead.

My hands lost their grip on the windowsill and I fell back onto the bed.

I never grew close to a cat again, and we always had one somehow. Never close. Until Sam.

 

[Last_Kiss]

I'm listening to "I needed you" by Anne Murray and I'm waiting for the day that I listen to it and not cry.

I shared. Goodbye.

 

[Maria2394]

spilling the old secrets

Fire Child love you, girl, okay? You let loose some really deep stuff, especially this one--

I befriend girls I hate out of jealousy, and then I really like them

and about 15 more I can check off as my own experiences as well. want me to share with you? nobody reads this stuff anyway

I thought I had a good childhood until I grew up and realized how everyone in my life had lied to me, about everything and that they still do.

******

 

[Last_Kiss]

Just post them for us. I was and still am sure that my stories are uninteresting. I have started this "Lit blog" but didn't post here much. Then, on a whim, I posted about The Woodlands. A random chapter from my life. If nobody is interested, there is no harm, I hope. This is just a blog, both for interesting and uninteresting entries.

I know this wasn't directed towards me but once I read it, then fire child's post, I decided, what the hell? It's not easy for me to share. Most of the time, I feel no one cares. That's why I write but most of it is tucked away, far away from nosy family. No one knows me here. It can't hurt any.

A chapter of my life. I like that.

My sister died at the age of twelve when I was seven years old. I wasn't allowed in the hospital room as she layed there in a coma for seven days. Back in the 70s and where I live, no one under twelve was allowed in anyone's hospital room to visit. We had to wait in a waiting room. Luckily, there was a TV that kept me entertained. I'm guessing this was the case for many hospitals back then but it isn't today. What a shame. I missed out. I couldn't say goodbye to my best friend.

She was the one who introduced me to lipstick. Of course I wasn't allowed but we shared a room together and she couldn't help but want to paint my face. She'd use it for my cheeks too. I remember it was testing lipstick. They were very small. Maybe an inch in a half long. I don't remember where she got them and I guess it doesn't matter.

After she passed away was when I became afraid of the dark. No longer was she there to comfort me when the bats were flying around "our" once upon a time bedroom. It was just me. I was so alone. I'll never forget jumping in her beautiful canopy bed when I saw a bat. She held me close and rubbed my one shoulder until I fell asleep. God, how I love and miss her!

My fear of the dark continued until I was eleven years old. It was horrible. I had to keep my bedroom light on every night. I looked in the closet for monsters and under my bed each night before I went to sleep. Of course there never were any, but what I did was stack stuffed animals on each side of my body in bed, and one large teddy bear on top of me. I had many and stacked them up so high, you couldn't see any part of me. By doing this, I knew if a murderer would come in my room or from underneath my bed, and if they wanted to stab me, they'd get the stuffed animals first, and I would hopefully survive.

No madman ever came except for a step-father who ended up divorcing my mother, and later on, a husband for myself. I'm happy to be divorced.

 

[fire child]

... I just had to put that disclaimer in here, just had to. not that it really matters except to me...

I hate to shop

I hate coffee
I hate HATE any type of shell fish, gross

and I hate emily dickinsons poetry...

I don't even like to grocery shop. I hate coffee unless it's flavored with pixie sticks. I'm highly allergic to shellfish. And I personally cannot stand emily dickinson, although I do credit her efforts as applaudable. (maybe that isn't the right wording..)


I can't say I meant to make everyone drag out a lotta bad...but I try to write based on my feelings and experiences, and ranting really helps me bring out a bit of creativity, and I have to say, Miss Maria and Last Kiss, you guys gave me a lot to think about.

again, appologies.

how do you catch a unique rabbit


...unique up on it!! ​

 

[Maria2394]

I don't even like to grocery shop. I hate coffee unless it's flavored with pixie sticks. I'm highly allergic to shellfish. And I personally cannot stand emily dickinson, although I do credit her efforts as applaudable. (maybe that isn't the right wording..)


I can't say I meant to make everyone drag out a lotta bad...but I try to write based on my feelings and experiences, and ranting really helps me bring out a bit of creativity, and I have to say, Miss Maria and Last Kiss, you guys gave me a lot to think about.

again, appologies.

how do you catch a unique rabbit


...unique up on it!! ​

fire child, you didnt make me do anything It just seemed liberating to you, so I thought, hell, I can do that too.( so I imitated you!!) Its not like Im gonna ever get married again, or to anyone on here that read this, oh I can just hear the judgements now!! j/k

nah, the point it, no one is perfect, and its not good to hold stuff in and maybe since its not secret anymore, it wont bother us anymore

move on towards a brighter light



maria


ps, if you ever have one you dont wanna post here and just HAVE to tell it, tell me, I swear I would never breathe a single word, and I woudl tell you mine too, okay?

 

[Last_Kiss]

since I often come to this board, just to rant a little, and get help for ideas that come from my experiences, I think this 'lit blog' is a wonderful idea, Madame Senna.
I can think of nothing right now now in my life that cheers me any. Except posting here, and seeing this--
I started a quick little prattle to post here, and it became something scary. And because I didn't like what I saw, I'm posting it. I need to learn to face my s.
And I apologize in advance.

I swear I wouldn't do this but I believe I've grown a lot in my life from the experiences I've had.

fire child, this is for you. I'm sure you already know you're not alone. But I'll share apart of me as this other wonderful woman (Maria) did to know that people care. I shouldn't feel I have to hide. I've never used a name like Last Kiss before and I'm never going to post my face, so who gives a shit?!!

This is not confession time for me. Been there, done that. I'm either relating or sharing.

I failed algebra in high school because my teacher let another student grade papers, and she changed my answers.

I dropped out of school in 11th grade at 17 yrs. old because I was being beaten and molested at home. It wasn't because of bad grades. I knew at this age I didn't need to have my parents sign me out. All I needed was a full-time job. Later, I got my GED.

The love of my life tried to rape me because he was high.

At 13 yrs. old, I was gang raped by much older boy (s) who I met out in the woods to get high with one night. I was only planning to meet one boy. He had his friends tucked away in the bushes and once I was completly trashed, they all were on top of me. I couldn't scream or move my legs. To this day, I know something else was in the bowl besides pot. For years I took a lot of blame because I met him out there, but talking to some professionals had convinced me otherwise. Since I was younger than them, they were the ones at fault, not me. No one deserves that kind of treatment, even if they dressed like a whore or have been high or drunk.

I tell people they shouldn’t drink so much but I drink myself to sleep even on good days.

I used to be a party girl but landed myself in the hospital too many times and almost died. Those days were over when I decided to start a family.

I befriend girls I hate out of jealousy, and then I really like them.

I don't have any. I'm a loner and have no idea why. I'm still trying to figure this one out.

I've burned down a building. Just to see it burn.

I robbed too many to list and regret it terribly today.

I didn't grow up with my biological parents. I didn't even meet them until I was seven. I told my mom I hated her. I still do.

I took a knife to my mothers throat when I was younger because I felt she didn't care about me. She was rarely home and I thought it was all her fault I ended up being molested. Of course I was high but at times I wonder if I would've done it straight. Today, we are very close but do have our moments.

I never liked my last boyfriend.

I've used men to get what I want and always regretted it later. I often do things repeatedly that I regret. I still do at my age but it's not to that extreme.

I had a miscarriage at sixteen. Twins.

I lost three. One miscarriage and two abortions that I felt forced into doing. The one was after the gang rape at 13 yrs. old. I couldn't say who the father was anyway. I was under 18 years old when all this happened. I'd have a 16, 14, and 12 yr. old if none of this would've ever happened. I do have children but I take a lot of blame for what I had just said. I should've never listened to my mother but I did it out of respect. She made me feel like a loser when I told her about the pregnancy's. Today, I'm completely against abortions unless the person is under 18 or has been raped.

I have a notebook of poems I was going to give him. But I wont.

I love Emily Dickinson.

I won’t admit that I’m only posting these here so they won’t be secret anymore.
I am more hurt and scared than you will ever know. This tough girl bitch thing? It’s an act.

Time heals all wounds but you have to be the one to allow it to happen. You are not scarred for life. You are bruised. Remember that.

I changed from blue to purple as soon as I read you hated it.

I hope everyone has a Happy Easter!

 

[Maria2394]

Happy Easter to you as well, Last Kiss

Oh, last night my oldest girl woke up at 2 am with a blazing fever, 103, and she said she hurt all over. She is 23. I held her, gave her tylenol and then she got in my bed and slept with me all night. We talked about poetry and stuff waiting for her fever to break.

This morning I called in for her at her job and then took her to the doctor. She made me pay half the bill, boy did she learn from her daddy, lol, but I didnt mind because we are all about to be split up and I might never have the chance again for her to take my covers and then my money, hehe.

The doc said she has a virus, but no infection. Im glad she isnt sick, but I wished the illness off her and I will have it by weeks end. That is one thing I didnt tell yesterday, I have this power to make people better,but I get sick in the process. Also, I see ghosts and have prophetic visions, usually about sports events or awful disasters. Anyway...

gas has gone up 18 cents per gallon since yesterday at the Exxon down the road from my house, so Im gonna go buy some before it gets higher, but I will go to the hess only 4 miles further where its 2.55 and not 2.75. Yeah, im cheap and I like to drive

love ya'll, have a great afternoon,

marrria

 

[Last_Kiss]

Happy Easter to you as well, Last Kiss

Oh, last night my oldest girl woke up at 2 am with a blazing fever, 103, and she said she hurt all over. She is 23. I held her, gave her tylenol and then she got in my bed and slept with me all night. We talked about poetry and stuff waiting for her fever to break.

This morning I called in for her at her job and then took her to the doctor. She made me pay half the bill, boy did she learn from her daddy, lol, but I didnt mind because we are all about to be split up and I might never have the chance again for her to take my covers and then my money, hehe.

The doc said she has a virus, but no infection. Im glad she isnt sick, but I wished the illness off her and I will have it by weeks end. That is one thing I didnt tell yesterday, I have this power to make people better,but I get sick in the process. Also, I see ghosts and have prophetic visions, usually about sports events or awful disasters. Anyway...

gas has gone up 18 cents per gallon since yesterday at the Exxon down the road from my house, so Im gonna go buy some before it gets higher, but I will go to the hess only 4 miles further where its 2.55 and not 2.75. Yeah, im cheap and I like to drive

love ya'll, have a great afternoon,

marrria

I hope when my children are 23 that they allow me to comfort them as you did with your daughter. When my oldest turned 12, I'll never forget her walking out the door for school forgetting to kiss me goodbye. I cried later on. I guess she didn't actually forget. She was growing up and still, she's in her teens (like the other) but won't say goodbye to me. The other one still gives me kisses. They're all different, I know, but as mothers, you know how it goes. It's a bitch at times watching our children grow up.

And now my daughter is talking about sex. She told me something she did and I put my hands over my ears, shook my head and screamed. She was trying to get a rise out of me. I swear. It was disgusting but if it were me, it wouldn't be. I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know. She just better use condoms as I preached when the time comes. I don't want to know. I don't want to know!

Gas prices.

 

[Tzara]

I used to play golf. Quite often, in fact—three or four days a week except during the winter. I don't play anymore, as my blood pressure can't take it.

Golf is an odd game, even for those who are very very good at it, because the slightest change in your swing can make a huge difference in where and how you hit the ball. You swing once and the ball takes off in a beautifully straight arc smack down the middle of the fairway. Swing again—with what feels like an identical swing to you—and the ball bounces thirty yards along the ground, off into the trees. It takes a calmer man than me to play the game.

Over the years I was playing I hit some pretty memorable shots. Hmmm. Perhaps I should say some awfully memorable shots. More accurate. Once hit the ball 250 yards off the tee dead straight—straight up, that is. Landed about 10 yards down the fairway. Bounced one off a tree onto the green and into the hole. I once cleared a large water hazard by accidentally hitting the ball with so much topspin that it skipped twice across the pond surface before landing on the green.

Perhaps my all-time worst shot was coming off the tee on a fairly long par 4. I was playing with my brother and a friend, and playing pretty well. Decided to pull out all stops on the driver, wound up and smacked the piss out of the ball. Slightly off-line, unfortunately. It went about fifty feet before hitting a post on the cyclone fence that protected the tee area from golfers in the next fairway, and came flying back right at my head. I ducked, and ended up turning a 400 yard hole into a 450 yard hole—my second shot was from behind the tee.

The good news was that my playing companions found this so hysterically funny that neither could hit a decent shot for the rest of the round (for some reason, they kept breaking out in giggles) and I beat both of them.

It is no coincidence that golf is flog spelled backwards.

 

[Sara Crewe]

This would be the one place in the world where a comparative essay on golf and flogging would probably have a wide audience.

 

[fire child]

I put my cat down today.

I'm going to cry at a bar, and write her a poem.

 

[annaswirls]

I put my cat down today.

I'm going to cry at a bar, and write her a poem.

oh so sad!! I am sorry

Gosh, I go to Texas and look-- it has been confession time all over the place here! So touching, seriously. You all are brave and good for getting it out.

I am a compulsive confessor and doubt that I have any secrets at all.

My biggest secret is I write things and then in the next line write,
wait, no no no that is wrong.


Wait, no, that is wrong, sometimes it takes two lines or two weeks and hmm, into months.

I passed Algebra in high school because my best friend was a genius and she let me copy her homework. Anyone who did their homework was guarenteed a D. I learned later that Algebra is really not so hard if you just decide to do it. I loved Calculus.

I can't spell.

My childhood was boringly "normal." I went to a therapist I think because my parents did not do enough to fuck me up and I felt kind of bad about it. Well that and other things. I think because everyone seemed so normal and I I I I WASN'T.

Wait, that wasn't right. but I am not sure what is, so I will leave it.

I ruined my families Norman Rockwellian existence by bringing a disability into the picture, you know, the one with the turkey on the platter? It was the best thing that happened to them/us.

My childhood. Down by the creek, I poked a larvae in the butt with a little stem. I think I must have just heard about how sex works. The larvae died. The whole process was distrubingly satisfying. I wonder if a strap-on is in my future. There will be no killing in my future.

I love women too. And not just because it is the cool thing to say. I know, this is post 194 about it, in case anyone is counting. I sometimes think that when I am an older woman with children grown and gone, maybe a widower, that I might meet the girl of my dreams, fall in love. There is nothing like the company of a best girl friend. Nothing. I can still remember what it is like.


I can't spell.

When I was little, I sprayed Pledge around the house so it would smell like I cleaned and my mom would say Thank you! What a great helper! without my having to actually do anything good.

I would rather spend eternity with a insomniatic sociopath with a taste for human flesh than a lovely picture of perfection projected outward so convincingly by someone that cannot see behind their own screen.

 

[tarablackwood22]

oh so sad!! I am sorry

Gosh, I go to Texas and look-- it has been confession time all over the place here! So touching, seriously. You all are brave and good for getting it out.

I am a compulsive confessor and doubt that I have any secrets at all.

My biggest secret is I write things and then in the next line write,
wait, no no no that is wrong.


Wait, no, that is wrong, sometimes it takes two lines or two weeks and hmm, into months.

I passed Algebra in high school because my best friend was a genius and she let me copy her homework. Anyone who did their homework was guarenteed a D. I learned later that Algebra is really not so hard if you just decide to do it. I loved Calculus.

I can't spell.

My childhood was boringly "normal." I went to a therapist I think because my parents did not do enough to fuck me up and I felt kind of bad about it. Well that and other things. I think because everyone seemed so normal and I I I I WASN'T.

Wait, that wasn't right. but I am not sure what is, so I will leave it.

I ruined my families Norman Rockwellian existence by bringing a disability into the picture, you know, the one with the turkey on the platter? It was the best thing that happened to them/us.

My childhood. Down by the creek, I poked a larvae in the butt with a little stem. I think I must have just heard about how sex works. The larvae died. The whole process was distrubingly satisfying. I wonder if a strap-on is in my future. There will be no killing in my future.

I love women too. And not just because it is the cool thing to say. I know, this is post 194 about it, in case anyone is counting. I sometimes think that when I am an older woman with children grown and gone, maybe a widower, that I might meet the girl of my dreams, fall in love. There is nothing like the company of a best girl friend. Nothing. I can still remember what it is like.


I can't spell.

When I was little, I sprayed Pledge around the house so it would smell like I cleaned and my mom would say Thank you! What a great helper! without my having to actually do anything good.

I would rather spend eternity with a insomniatic sociopath with a taste for human flesh than a lovely picture of perfection projected outward so convincingly by someone that cannot see behind their own screen.

 

[wildsweetone]

mornings are cold and dreary now that the heat of summer has passed. the wind seems to come straight from the pole, when i stand in the shade. the crickets on the fence love the shelter the upright posts give, and they splay in that early sun, the sun before the heat shrivels the ground and dries the first colours on the liquid amber trio.

there are blue windows in the golden elms and white fluffs skudding across the sky, and now that the sun has warmth there are birds galore feasting on the succulent flax flowers.

i'd miss all this if i worked mornings.

 

[annaswirls]

mortgage brokers realtors all day these phone calls emails fax and oh my god I can't believe this is all happening.

trying to get the house ready to be sold, Open House next week...put in a bid on the one in TEXAS. Pray they take it. There are people looking to try to get the zoning changed so they can turn it into apartment buildings. I wonder if they would knock the house down. It is old and needs someone to care for it! If we lose it, I will be doubly sad.

There is no way I am getting out m.e. by the 15th. This week has been insane, I have spent so much time on it and for some reason this time all of the writers have these little changes they want to make here and there, changes of the wording of their bios which they just sent.... I am all about the writer and will do what they want, it is just there is no way....wah

we leave for Tennessee in the morning.

Happy Easter for those who celebrate Easter.
Happy weekend for everyone!

 

[fire child]

I'm sort of homeless. Whee fun.

I think I'm going to join the army.
I go take my asvab monday.

I did the practice test today.
Out of 99, I got 42%.
Not bad, at all.

I just want to go stare into a mirror and be like WTF are you thinking??!?
You're too stupid for this!!
yeah yeah, so you got a decent score on the practice, and with some studying, you may not do horribly at the actual but.
You can't do fractions stupid!
You don't even know what a ratio is!!
and let's just fucking ignore long division and paragraph comp.
You don't need the army, just DIE!
and then, when you either don't pass it because you're fucking stupid, what about the physical?? You have scoliosis you dumb bitch.
You're a failure, and you'll fail at this, and where will that have gotten you?


I feel...



...oh god...
...I do...
...and I don't want to anymore.

 

[Senna Jawa]

You can't do fractions stupid!

Sure, you can. Every poet can and should because they are so nice! (I mean fractions, not poets).

 

[Senna Jawa]

Mexico-US border

They way the US administration is treating the Mexican immigration situation is depressing. This is another instance of the hopeless irrationality of our world.

The most important issue is the human angle, the ethical apect. But even if someone was a callous, pragmatic, primitively "pro_US", s/he still should see that the huge money are going to be wasted (already are) by the administration in the most thoughless, bureaucratic way, which will do a lot of harm. Oh, sure, some individuals and marginal groups will make money, already do, and once again we will have a bit more bureaucracy, while all the rest of us (both Mexicans and Americans) will be among the losers, and many people will suffer.

In a better society decisions based solely on power, on imposition, would be unacceptable. Lack of thinking would be considered unethical, immoral. Instead, when everything is ruled by easy solutions and BullShit, people don't feel the need for thinking, they don't realize that there is room for high level thinking, they don't value sharp thinking, they hate thinking. And impositions are acceptable and considered a necessity (how wrongly)! This world is nothing but chaos and mess, lacking any harmony.

Fortunately, happy flukes are a part of the chaos. Such flukes are rare, they don't last long. And still, they are the reason to live.

I am afraid that the immigration problem is not going to be a happy fluke, it looks gloomy. How sad.