|
[04 Jul 2009|01:46am] |
I don't think I will ever allow myself to fall in love again, because I don't think anyone will understand me in the way that I find vital and beautiful.
I saw my first love today. We got high and listened to some 1960's tunes. I held his hand: not because I was in love, but because it felt natural and comforting. Nostalgia is both bitter and sweet; a taker and a giver. I love him, but not in the way that romantics write about. It'll always be a warm memory, despite the pains involved. At least I know what love is.
I try to unfold this in other people, but they seem so obstinate about learning me; so unwilling to memorize my geography and discover my mentality. I am so eager to to dissect their thoughts and trace their skin. I crave passion. I yearn for mutual understanding. Am I alone in this?
I just want to go back to school so my time is so consumed with everything that I don't have to worry about love. I've grown greedy with the want to feel needed.
Indifference looks so attractive now a days.
|
|
|
| "familiar strangers" |
[24 May 2009|08:41pm] |
I exposed my vulnerability
Not to touch, but more to feel
Your lashes danced on my skin
And I laughed as the sugar
Leapt off your coaxing tongue
You breathed a question
And my heart broke my chest
So I sat on the doorsteps of our memories
With the stale air suppressing me
I wanted to scream.
How do I rid of this plastic grin?
We've become perfect strangers
Isn't that where danger lies?
I thought you knew me.
I never sought to seek you out
But then it rained chaos
And the alleyway drained itself
Into my vacant veins
And with a choking breath
I murmered against the waves
I wish you never came.
Hell is remembering
What it is to love
But never willing it again
And I will burn with
A fervent objection
To flowered beggary
I've become accustomed
To tasteless apathy.
|
|
|
|
[05 Nov 2008|10:21pm] |
|
Everything is looking pretty good right now. =)
|
|
|
| room description: creative writing |
[01 Oct 2008|05:39pm] |
The doorway to my tight, narrow dorm-room is hard, gray and unwelcoming like a concrete surface. Open it up, and you're walking into insanity. Scratched, imperfect walls, surround my small, messy space; their stark white colors stare at me mockingly, as if I was some mental patient. I want to beat my fists against their vacancy. Bright pictures of happy memories used to hide their bleak expressions; now those images rest peacefully in the bottom of my trashcan. My sturdy twin-sized bed, with its ruffled sheets and yielding texture, is my only comfort during these restless, sleepless nights.
Haha and everyone in the class thought it was simply about me hating my room
|
|
|
|
[28 Sep 2008|12:43pm] |
|
Got drunk and ended up throwing up my insides six times. Got to love it.
|
|
|
|
[27 Sep 2008|01:45pm] |
My boyfriend of 2 and 1/2 years basically ripped out my heart, spit on it, and tossed it to the floor.
I feel numb.
|
|
|
| creative writing assignment |
[07 Sep 2008|02:52pm] |
For my intro to creative writing class, we have to write a description of our faces. I'm not too certain if mine sounds decent enough, so I'd appreciate any feedback. Here it goes:
There's this pasty complexion sprinkled with bumpy blemishes—obvious flaws in a world that demands impossible perfection. Planted in the center of this chalky mess are small, milk chocolate orbs of emotion; frankly, they remind me of the color of shit. Further downward rests a boring, bland sniffing machine. Its smooth, uninterrupted surface gives way to no personality whatsoever. A little below that lies pale pink petals that have tasted bursts of true affection.
|
|
|
|
[06 Sep 2008|09:40am] |
Hangovers are my mortal enemies.
And Advil is my best friend!
|
|
|
|
[04 Sep 2008|09:29pm] |
So I'm finally back at wonderful Purchase after of summer of mind-deflating activities. It's nice to have a break from home; however, I'm feeling a bit disappointed after discovering that I don't like my classes very much. I'm also a tad exhausted and overheated from the furnace known as my dorm room. It doesn't help that there's black mold growing on our ceiling and they have done nothing to fix that problem, despite the fact that we filed a complaint a few days ago.
Oh well, I'm glad to exercise my brain and freedom again.
|
|
|
|
[29 Aug 2008|09:40pm] |
So, I'm moving back into my little suite of Purchase friends in approximately 3 days. I'm excited to be able to learn again. My brain feels like it deflated a bit over the summer and I can't wait to stuff it with infinite knowledge. I'm slightly nervous about some of my classes, such as the upper level literature courses I'll be taking. I'm afraid I'll be in a class full of these uber-intelligent individuals, and I'll just be sitting in the back trying to understand concepts that are way over my head. Hopefully this year goes by smoothly.
I'm also entralled to taste simple freedom again--freedom of the parental units that is. It's not that I don't appreciate my parents' care and love; it's just that all the checking in and not being out late becomes a nuisance after a while. At college I'll be fully in charge of myself once again.
However, I'm going to miss my newburgh friends, my family after a bit of distance, and of course, my loving and enduring boyfriend, Joseph. It'll be hard at first, but after last year, I think I can handle it much more maturely. I'm better prepared.
Here's to a new year of fun, widsom, and challenges.
|
|
|
|
[28 Aug 2008|06:14pm] |
Funerals are depressing as fuck. Picture this:
You sit through an entire mass after not having been to church since God knows when. You watch restlessly as the priest lectures to the masses about Jesus, despite the fact that you're there to pay respect to your recently deceased grandmother. You start to remember why you never really liked organized religion: the routines are mechanical like machinery, and emotionless as raw fish. As he rambles on, you can't help but stare at the sealed coffin that now holds the lifeless corpse of someone you loved. In your head, you silently pray that there is a Heaven, because the thought of it not being there frightens the shit out of you.
You watch wordlessly as the coffin is lifted and moved out of the church. Everyone walks in solemn silence toward the empty grave. You stand on hollow ground, cold lamentation cloaking your entire body. You read other graves of people who are now long forgotten memories. Family members choke on their own tears in attempt to hide their agonized emotions. The tragic atmosphere seems to suffocate you and settle directly on your heart. Tears slither out of your eye sockets; you feel relieved and powerless. This is the final good-bye.
The service is over. You gaze at the gravediggers, the shovels, the ruptured earth...you briefly picture inch worms and rotting, green flesh.
You pray there is a Heaven.
|
|
|
|
[20 Aug 2008|12:55am] |
Today my brothers' grandmother died. She passed away in her bed...alone; it was the way she wanted to go. I considered her a third grandmother, if such a thing could exist. We weren't close, but I felt like she was family. She was the type of woman you couldn't help but love. She spoke softly to the point that you could hear the kindness of her soul seeping into it. I never once heard her yell, and she always treated every person with respect.
I remember when I was little, that she'd always say,"god bless you" to me whenever I left her house. I would always turn to my mother with a look of extreme puzzlement on my face, and whisper, "But I didn't sneeze!" They both got a good laugh out of that.
When I received news of her death, it proved impossible to stop the tears from spilling. I ranked her as the kindest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I pray to God that Heaven exists because she doesn't belong anywhere else.
Rest Peacefully Grandma Marie Masi.
|
|
|
|
[09 Aug 2008|01:32am] |
I saw Pineapple Express (that new stoner movie) opening night, and I must say...that shit is HIL-AR-I-OUS! James Franco portrays a funny and stupid, yet extremely lovable drug dealer. I can't even believe that he was in Spiderman! Comedy sure is his calling. And all the pot jokes were great. Loved it.
Everyone go see it...now.
|
|
|
|
[05 Aug 2008|12:44am] |
|
I'm very excited because I'm almost finished with Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyer, which happens to be one of my favorite vampire sagas ever. I cracked open the book on Saturday night around 2 A.M and read it non-stop until 6:30 A.M, and have been intensely reading it ever since. I purposely try to do other tasks to prevent myself from finishing it up too soon. I do this with every damn book that I eagerly anticipate. Can we say nerdddyyy?
|
|
|
| opinions |
[23 Jul 2008|01:33am] |
"Tender Thoughts"
I slept in an empty daydream
Earth appeared so gray today
The thoughts quit
The eyes drift
I’m swimming on an empty canvas
I sat on the doorstep of my memories
Time ate away at every space
The tongue clicks
The song fits
I’m washing away in a stream of yesteryears
I leaned on the edge of a nightmare
Blackness penetrates my sanity
The sweat drips
The mind shifts
I’m crashing into cold reality
I hammered against the spiral of realization
Dismay grips my grieving chest
The blindness lifts
The courage slips
I scream at nothing.
|
|
|
|
[13 Jul 2008|05:06pm] |
So this weekend I had my college pals come up, Sarah from Long Island, Mel from Brooklyn, and Julia from poughkeepsie. This morning we were driving through poughkeepsie to meet up with our friend Sam (who also lives in Poughkeepsie) at the I-HOP. I've never been there, so Julia was attempting to give me directions as I sped/drove like an asshole through the confusing streets.
Keep in mind this is 8:30 in the morning.
After I make a right-hand turn, I see lights come to life behind me and hear a BLURP BLURP noise.
State trooper. Damn it.
I pull over, hurriedly getting my license/registration prepped (I accidentally gave him the insurance card first). After a few minutes he waltzes over to the side of the van and requests that I grant him these items.
I hand them over, he asks if I know why he pulled me over. I say nope. He says, "You were swerving in your lane." I give him a sad face and apologize.
He walks away and returns after a while. He asks if I'm 19.
Yes.
Where were you heading?
The I-HOP in Pougkeepsie! I was driving over there to meet my friend from college. We're all college friends and we're having our little reunion this weekend. They haven't been here before and we just wanted to meet up for breakfast!
(I don't know why I always give these long-winded explanations of my life-story to cops)
Where do you go to college?
SUNY Purchase! It's over by westchester/white plains
He nods, then asks with a smile, "You weren't drinking were you?"
I laugh. "Oh no! It's too early for that! I'm just not familiar with these parts. My friend was over here directing me and I was just getting confused."
He laughs a little and says he's just going to let me off with a warning. I say thanks and feel a wave of relief.
Does anyone else freakin' talk like a maniac whenever a cop pulls them over?
|
|
|
|
[04 Jul 2008|01:05am] |
|
I love the sound of slow, steady rain on a warm summer night.
|
|
|
|
[02 Jul 2008|02:00pm] |
Yesterday I finshed reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Although it was a tad depressing, her use of poetic expression in her writing made the novel unique and intriguing. For instance, I really love this quote from chapter 4:
"The sickness rolled through me in great waves. After each wave it would fade away and leave me limp as a wet leaf and shivering all over and then I would feel it rising up in me again, and the glittering white torture chamber tiles under my feet and over my head and all four sides closed in and squeezed me to pieces."
For anyone who wants a look into the mind of someone suffering a mental breakdown, I recommend this book.
I also managed to catch a viewing of WALL-E. That movie is so damn cute, and it rings a lot of truth, too. I'd say it's one of my favorite animated films ever. Plus, they give you a cool blue WALL-E wrist watch at showtime with every ticket purchase you make!
Lastly, I opened a letter from Purchase today that informed me I would receive a $1,000 scholarship for the 2008-2009 year based on my academic performance from last year. Yippee!!!
|
|
|
|
[29 Jun 2008|11:54pm] |
My mind feels like it's a fish out of water: flopping around stupidly and desperate for air. I wish I could submerge it into some cleansing liquid; soak it up with thick knowledge and bubbles of wisdom.
I need some intellectual stimulation. It's one of the reasons I miss college. Working at a retail store makes me feel like an airhead.
But I still don't know what I'm doing with my life. I mean, I am a literature major. I decided that the second to last week of the spring semester. The intro to Shakespeare class I partook in happened to increase my appreciation for all literary works. I marched over to one of the lit advisors and informed her of my decision. She welcomed me aboard kindly, but I couldn't feel any real enthusiasm; just relief.
Everyone always asks what I plan to do with that kind of degree.
You want to be a writer? An English teacher? An editor?
I don't fucking know.
I chose it because a. I like to read and b. I'm decent at analyzing prose and poems. I have no high aspirations for myself. I don't have grand dreams of being a best-selling novelist or becoming an amiable English professor. It's just when people are constantly reminding you that you have to decide the rest of your life right now, you kind of just make a rational--not entirely ardent--decision.
I hope it works out.
|
|
|
|
[28 Jun 2008|11:15pm] |
You're never truly in love with someone unless there's a certain ambivalence associated with it.
God, I love him.
But we can piss each other off so easily. Haha.
|
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
psychobizyatch's journal