Partner in Crime

The years flowed on and on like the wine that celebrated marriages of
friends and sisters. Elsie began to think that even if her wish
materialized she could not sacrifice a life that was so familiar: Lonely,
sad with an almost religious quality.
She remembered times spent in the old wood deep in prayer. Aching,
begging - thinking her heart might burst. Her friend had moved away
unannounced. She'd disappeared. There was no belief. And longer and
longer there was less to give. Less love to give. Of course there'd been
lovers but nothing close to what she'd hoped for. Before she'd felt electricity
swelling in her palms - but not now. Limp and hopeless life continued but
it wasn't really living. All she'd ever dreamed wished and yearned for had
been stolen and shot down.


Oh Isobel, why do you know me so well?

Chuck Palahniuk reading at Barnes and Noble.

oh man, when did i get to be such a bitch? hahahaha.

i've also become brutally honest. truly, i can't stand to tell a person a lie anymore. people should be careful for what they say to me. The city changes a person. A lot.

My co-workers want to see me in patent leather with whips and very high slut shoes. my co-workers know that i'm not all sweet and kind as I portray. The whole whips and chains comment did scare me at first, but I was wondering how weird that would look if I walked into the office wearing black leather and carrying a whip. It was funny, then it got serious and that scares me.

My co-workers know not to be nice to me. They know i'm a bitch and I have no idea when this change occurred to me.

Do you really see me as a dominitrix?



On another note: I've been feeling really sick lately. i've been very nervous and my stomach can't take so much nervousness. light headed and hard of breath. i haven't felt this nervous since i did competitions for violin. i think my body is telling me something is going to happen. Either that or I've watched too much star wars.

I hung out with Sophia and Bhagli today. I haven't seen them forever. I also found out some other interesting news that I'm not at liberty to talk about. We met with Bear who is the cutest little puppy in the whole entire world. Honestly, someone should just frame him up and admire him from afar because he is just too cute. Polite and sweet and very well behaved. We also ate at SPICE and once again I died with the heat of the curry. I'm such a wimp when it comes to spicy food. We also drank our starbucks coffee after our promise of bubble tea was broken.

Afterwards, I went to my grandparents' place for some Korean/Chinese food. Most of the time I picked on the food and contaminated renee's precious vegetarian dish with meat. HAHAHAH!!!

Wow, this is the first time I'm writing an entry about my day. These types of entries suck.

and sometimes when you're on you're really fucking on
and your friends they sing along and they love you
but the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap
and it teases you for weeks in its absense
but you'll fight and you'll make it through
you'll fake it if you have to
and you'll show up for work with a smile
and you'll be be better you'll be smarter
more grown up and a better daughter
or son and a real good friend
and you'll be awake and you'll be alert
you'll be positive though it hurts
and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends
and you'll be a real good listener
you'll be honest you'll be brave
you'll be handsome you'll be beautiful
you'll be happy

babble

I've been thinking about this for a little bit maybe you guys will know what I mean.

There are restaurants in this city that demand the customer to wear a tie or a woman to wear a cocktail dress or an evening gown. The average woman who wants to go to one of these restaurants on a date or just to splurge for one night with her friends would probably have to spend $50-$60 on a good dress. Once arriving to said restaurant, this woman will probably buy (if on a date) about $50-$60 on food between her and her date.
Do you see where I'm going with this? A woman will buy a dress worth thousands just to eat a meal worth thousands and the freaky part is that she actually spent thousands all for one night. When food costs as much as a simple dress for the evening, it's completely insane. Food lasts for about an hour or so, enough time to consume and enjoy. Putting prices like twenty dollar lobsters or a hundred dollar bottles of wine is completely boggling me. The dress, you can keep that and have it hang in the back of your closet for all you care. You'll probably wear it to a friend's wedding or a formal gathering of co-workers. The dress isn't the matter, it's the food. Something that only lasts for one night costs more than a complete outfit.

wow. look at high society now.

It's a sheep in wolf's clothing. A smoking gun holding ape.

"and this loss isn't good enough
for sorrow or inspiration
it's such a loss for the good guys
afraid of this life
that it just is
'cause everybody dies."


Rilo Kiley tomorrow night. I haven't felt this good in a long time and I'm glad that everything is back to normal in my life.
My horoscope says that I'll be getting an idea of how much my self-worth is. I forgot where I was suppose to go and now I'm back on track. My wishes were getting in the way of my dreams and I finally got back to my dream.
But thanks, I needed the little bit of help to get my dream back.

I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you.

Whelp, went to the Bowery Poetry Club tonight.
I did my poem after listening to a whole bunch of 14/15 year olds go before me.
My poem just doesn't compare to the creativity and beauty of the poems they read.
My God, I wanted to shoot myself.
It was just one right after the other.
They just spewed words from their mouths like it was Coke or something.

Damn.

There was this one girl there, Danielle. SHE BLEW EVERYTHING OUT OF THE WATER!

People cheering and screaming for her. She was "madd tight"

haha..then Bryan went up and aww he messed up. It's cool though because he's my friend and that's OK in my book!
Then it was me.
I hate my lisp so much right now. People don't know when they read this, but I have the worst stage voice in the world. I sounded so young even though I must have been the oldest there reading. After the show, Bryan, Renee, and I were just waiting outside the building to reflect upon what we just encountered. Women and guys and all the people who performed came up to us and said we did a great job and that our poetry was amazing. I'm glad that people liked us. Otherwise, I don't think I'll have the nerve to go up there and do it again.


:) Today was a good day. and Tomorrow is RILO KILEY! Bitches get ready for pictures.

i can't stand it here anymore.
i keep on getting frustrated and tired very quickly
poetry is pushing forward like a steam roller
which means that i'm not in the best of moods.
so what i advise my friends to do.
is keep the fuck away from me for a couple of days.

i can throw a fucking brick through a window right now.
please, just leave me alone.

I'll be your number one with a bullet.

Thursday night, I'm going to do something that I would never dare to do:
I'm going to read open mic at the Bowery Poetry Club.
I'm frightened mostly because I hope people like my poetry.
Wish me luck!

feeling much better

does beauty lie in the heart or in the eye?
and after beauty, what about love?

bright eyes and the faint. i feel so much better today and i can't wait to dance my butt off tonight.

Hung out with Geoff, Sable, Renee, and a shitload of Geoff's friends. one of them was hitting on renee, i was going to pounce on him if he made one move. Who cares if Geoff threatened his friends to stay away from sable, renee, and me. You mess with my sister and i mess with your face and your shins.

ahahahah....i got a nice buzz from some alcohol and some hookah. Unfortunately, no drinks for me tonight. I don't want to be intoxicated and dancing to the faint, I don't konww why but it feels kind of disrespectful.

Time for my grandpa's birthday party in the bronx. Good luck to my family and me.

and so it is.

How does one go from feeling good to feeling loved to feeling destroyed all in one day? Matt, i'm sort of reluctant to write this entry because i know you'll be reading. It's kind of hard to understand how God works. How wishing works and how destiny is all work and no play. Each step that you take and every road you decide to run on takes you to another completely different place. Sometimes it will strand you and make you more than what you're worth. Other times, it's so easy that you wonder what the downside of your reward. I decided to take a certain path. Leave my consumeristic life behind and find the fortune at the end of my journey. The feeling that you get when you find out someone loves you. You're overjoyed and completely shocked. When coming from someone that you barely know, it is a shock. It's also a surprise when the person that loves you has been a past crush in your life.
My head hurts. My heart hurts too because I have no clue what to do. Let me explain what I said in the past:

I like a guy
He lives in another country
This can never work out
The end.

My mind is swimming with thoughts and I have probably used every cliche in the cliche book.
I need a drink.

sometimes being torn to pieces is good for the soul.
it's not that i'm torn, but tearing.

getting my afternoon buzz tomorrow.
also going to go to danny's birthday party (sort of gagging).
the faint in five days.
more alcohol in five days.
now, time to dream up some alcohol for tomorrow.
honestly, i like getting a little out of sorts.
how you say, a polite drunk.

i've been having a lot of dreams with maggots in it. My mom thinks that something in my life is going to rot. I don't know what she means by that.

Hm...I got a B in Philosophy. That's right, a mother fucking B!!!!!
That's like a letter grade higher than what I thought I was going to get.
Went to the MAC store to get myself some good ol' Microsoft Office.
Yeah...$200 calling my wallet.
So now I am reduced to writing in notebooks.
Great. Notebooks again.

I'm not really typy. Things don't happen in my life worth typing about on this stupid website. I have much photos to show you especially new ones from my collage journal. I had a little fun with watercolors last night. Watercolors and Crayola Markers.

And on a side note: I was wondering why people who write or sing or play a type of music dress like they definitely devoted their life to that type of music. I remember seeing these metal heads in my school. You would know they listen to metal because they wore all black, had the baggy pants, and the spiked collars and absent looks on their faces. It feels the same exact way when you look into the youth of today as well. The lessening of similar dressed people, and more with the originality, but this originality is fading as well. Kids who listen to "indie music" dress like they are old people who happened to drink from the Fountain of Youth. Those hardcore kids, they all wear black with pants so tight that their future children are screaming for help. Tattooed, pierced, wedged all into a type of category. Then you question why they lash back when someone calls them 'scene' or 'hipster' or any of those stupid names that society has created for them. That's all it comes down to. Society has prescribed the way a person should look when listening to a type of music, or watching a type of music. Those labels pressed on students in high school branch out further than just the walls of the institution. It is also 'parent' 'child' 'murderer' 'anglo-saxon' 'neo-nazi' 'black' 'white' 'hispanic' 'asian' and so forth. What is upsetting about this whole entire thought is that we try to escape these words. We are what we have created. We are what the world has told us we have to be. Even if it happens to be "drug addict" or "sex fiend."
People see people as these things. These objects that can be put away under different names and categories. The one thing that we are and only can be is human. Even society, the people, the individual is just another being living on the earth. They are stuck with the different labels and different categories. There is no escaping it and there is no way of changing it. The ones that reject the labels or reject the people who call them these names are not helping anyone. They aren't even helping themselves. Be original as you want, but there will always be some kind of label and no matter how many layers you shed off your shoulders, you will always end up with something. The last label you can be is human. How about working on being human instead of being something we perceive ourselves to be.

Well, let's see if you can guess who I'm talking about.

well, i have a few things to say while looking through the old deadjournal and looking through my livejournal.

And they are:
1. I fucking hate you. I don't know how I ever dealt with your shit. You are a piece of trash. You create the illusion that you are innocent and fragile and plain, but you are just a pop created miserable piece of shit. I don't know why I ever thought of you as my friend. You were just using me and I hate when people make me feel like shit. I hate you. How did you ever think that you were cool and the greatest person in the world? How does anyone like a slut who can't make up her mind? I don't know how you live everyday with the lies you are. You are fake, you are shallow and I don't think I have ever met anyone that is so repulsively ugly and vain in my whole life. You give new meaning to horrible and I love the fact that you now ignore me because I'm not close enough to ask for a ride. Did you feel good when you asked me to hang out when all you needed was someone to drive you around? I've spent too much time on you. I never wish this, but I hope karma comes back to you threefold.

2. I wrote a poem for you, remember? This was a while ago when we used to talk online. Of course, we are now on a different level of friendship than what we were on when I wrote the poem for you. I don't even remember what it was about. I remember the first line went 'he laughs,' and the rest is completely a mystery. I would have never thought that I would be friends with you this long and you becoming one of my greatest guy friends in the whole entire world. You are so smart and so strong, yet very weak. I'm sorry I pushed you away so many times. It's just very difficult to comprehend the specific position that I'm in with you right now. The dreams, the anxiety of a day without talking to you. I want to say this all to you, but we never see each other. So call me because we need to hang out.

3. I never thought that I would live to see the age of 18 and now that I'm stuck with the rest of my life, I'm glad that you guys are two of my greatest friends. I've had my own little tragedies in my life, but you are the two people who have stuck with me since I was very little. After all the moves and all the changes that everyone I knew went through, you guys kept a smile on my face. Now that we live on time and money, I wish to see you guys more often. You guys lived through the bad luck that my life has thrown at me. I'm glad and so happy to have you in my life. I hope that you guys are in my life until I'm 13084. That's even counting if I die.


I think that's all I wanted to say. Fuck, what a way to make a person very sad again. Very sad.

i think my hands got more....wrinkly? lately, they look like i've aged 2394823749823749823743928568736 years in a small period of time.


besides that, i'm finally done with school and summer work-sudy starts on monday. i can't wait to torture..i mean train the new employees. it will fantastic fun.

it's not fantastic,
it's FLANtastic.

shit, I'm screwed for this test tomorrow.
I'm missing a day of notes that looks like a huge part of the test.
No one I know in this class takes notes and the professor is not getting back to me.
God, I need a miracle.

just a short bit about observations.

when do little boys go from t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers to business suits with unmatching brown loafers?
it's the phase from when innocence depletes and the object of money arises. The sudden urge to make a living, comfortable, secure. Husband, wife, kids, dog, white picket fence. When does a boy go from little league dugouts to little league cubicles. where the only light of day he receives is the light shining from his computer. gray and white spots tranquilly dance across the monitor. gray hairs, bald heads, erectal disfunction. when does a boy go from love struck to struck out in love. the intimate moments with teenage girls in their pre-pubescence becomes intimate moments with a television. porno, sex, wet dreams, catholic school girls. when does a boy go from laying on the grass of soccer fields to smoking the grass from a glass pipe? where does the division of manhood and childhood end? peer pressure, drug wars, gang bangs, tripped out cars, fucked up girls.

boys to men in less than three seconds. first it's the tie, then it's the brown loafers with the blue suit.
finally it's the miserable existence in suburbia. their boy will relive what exactly the man has lost. and he will remember, he will remember and wish that he had just held on to that little boy for a little bit longer.

i need to find a song that knows exactly what i'm feeling right now:

-rejection
-misunderstanding
-hatred
-depression


suggest a song because all i've got so far is dredg album and it's starting to get old..already.

the new harry potter looks divine. i can't believe that they already have a new director for this one as well. grr.


anyway, it comes out in november which means they're reverting back to their old release dates in the late fall. this also means that they get the movie in for the academy awards. just pray for awards for all them kiddies and now that there isn't any more freaking lord of the rings, they could possibly win.


on a side note, i got a new imac. super happy with 17" screens.


au revoir. j'ai un examen demain en francais.

why am i much more comfortable writing things down than actually talking to real people? why am i more comfortable staying home and never seeing any of my friends?

i've been listening to the new dredg album on repeat. it's amazing and incredibly moving to me. it's like they have been living my life for the past four years.

now i feel like i'm being ripped from my body. i need to get out and i need to get out soon. just wait until finals are done, this summer is going to be gorgeous.

boop

ladies and gentlemen,
i am a daytime drunk. hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.


well, i went out with my friends to get me some food. we ended up ordering sangrias with our meals. if you know me well, i'm fuckin' drunk after like 3 drinks and i had one. so i was on a buzzz....the cigarettes didn't help it either. ahahahah..


after that i went to class. that's right, i went to class with my buzz and it was funny.

oh yeah, i also burnt myself with matches trying to light my fuckin' cigarette. that's like typical thing to do when you're under the influence, right?

wellllll, i'm feeling so much better now that i got a little tipsy today. makes taking exams feel like a breeze next week.





oh and after exams, i'm going to that place again and getting more drinks. then at bright eyes/the faint i'm getting wasted before the show. geez, i'm such an alcoholic. i might as well join AA now and get it over with.

it's not yugoslavia at all.

dear jaki and michelle,
i'm taking 2938749823749823794872938473601786348613

76492736478916238746917364987126398746987163786487162308476578923456019238748726578620846731649875965971632487256684365918237461827356435782645917324591283765 times infinity trips upstate. You better both be there or i'm going to cry.


It's hard to live when your two favorite people in the world live sprawled across the New York State map.


love,
Simone.

foreigner got some good ass shit

thursday is the non-official last day.
friday is the official last day.
monday is the french exam.
tuesday is the philosophy exam.
right now: i'm writing this journal entry in attempt to ignore my duties to study my ass off and get at least a C- in my philosophy class.

wow. i'm bored. this foreigner song "want to know what love is" is fuckin' retarded. no it's not. i love it.

I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I WANT YOU TO SHOW ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


who does that? anyway. i hung out with keith today for a bit. he tickled the crap out of me but i let him because today is his birthday. i swear, if there is another birthday someone's going to die. bryan called me to ask about david the gnome. wow. i can't believe i remember that little dude. Anyway, i told him about nuyorcian poets thingy and he wants me to read for it. hehehe...i started sweating when i read the poster what makes him think i can read a freakin' poem out loud...again.

Now some notes on poetry:
i remember In the Spotlight. Embarassingly going up on stage and reading some crummy love letter that your boyfriend wrote you. You read it anyway because you have nothing better to do and it was very poetic...in your eyes. what did i read? hm...let me think. i read a poem i wrote in five minutes. that's right, five minutes. so perfect that my english teacher told me it was the best poem he's ever heard written in five minutes. so if you ever went to In the Spotlight and listen to me read some dumb ass poems that i wrote, i wrote them in five minutes.
Actually, most of my poems I write within a ten minute period. I don't give myself anymore time and I never proofread. Too much time on a poem is like letting milk go bad in your refrigerator. It goes stale like bread. To keep it fresh, it must be in ten minutes. Never proofread. Proofreading your poems and editing them takes away from the raw emotion and feeling that went into writing it. Proofreading and editing poems are for faggots who think that poetry is just another literary form. You think that way, you suffocate the very being of poetry.
Poetry itself can only be described as a form of suicide. You write stanzas (or for the prose poets: paragraphs) about things you see. No matter how many classes you take to think you can improve your poetry skills, it will never work. An analogy of you: jackson pollack. you spread words across a page so elegantly that a third grader's finger painting looks like modern art. it is not the ability to just spew words onto a page, but the ability to capture the correct way of placing these words that when the audience hears or reads your poem they are enraptured. they are filled with the bowels of your poem because that's what poems are. They are the movements of our bodies. They are the way the tree sway and the way the cat pisses on a freshly cut lawn.
Poems are not made to be acted out on a stage with a camera and some famous host. I saw a man once deliver a poem on the streets of Manhattan. Stutter after stutter his heart felt heavy with emotions. Passion is not just the movement in the body, but the movement of the spirit. The expressions of the face so cunning. That's also key: body language. If you can read a person, you can write a poem. I've written dozens of poems about people who look at each other. That loving stare, that hating stare. That disgusted stare. The way a girl flirts with a guy or the way the guy pretends not to like the girl. It's all in the body. You can tell a life story through the movements of the body. Through hand gestures, winks, smiles, facial muscles. A very important tool for writing a poem.

I've gone completely off track. This stream of conscious thinking is getting to me and my french book stares at me like I've got to do some work or i'll completely be miserable all summer long. Congrats to those who understand a word i just said. I think i need some time to be alone.

i feel a poem coming on.

there's the wind on my back. a constant reminder of my past. and i wonder whether or not the past is currently living in my future. The smiles and the happy glances seem so fake within the big city.

Your eyes are covered behind sunglasses.
You can see me but I never see you.
And I loved when we could just talk.
Sing whispers into each other ears.
The morning dew wrestling through canvas and suede.
And how i would remember the days.
The rich amber glow from behind crooked trees.
That same fire cascading through my bedroom window.
Like mice, we stare closely at each other through the dark.
Scared and alone, you and i stay under shadows.

there's the sun in my eyes. it burns me as i walk down streets of cement and ash. soot rubs from the engravings of our names. we still burst from piles of leaves with the smiles of children across our faces. oh the weary lonliness of this big city.

How many times can I say this?
Where does the beauty lie?
In our hearts or in our minds?

palindrome \PAL-in-drohm\, noun:
A word, phrase, sentence, or verse that reads the same
backward or forward.


how weird that this is my word of the day today. The movie is fantastic and I think that everyone should go see it.

Yesterday was Aunt Nan's and Geoff's party we threw at our house. it was awesome. Renee got tipsy and started to talk nonsense as well as turn bright red and walk a little funny. I drank, but not as much as renee. hehehe.

This week is going to be hell on earth. You're going to see me post a lot of bullshit entries throughout this week because I'll be bored from studying for my exams. Woot. I hate exams.

I hate school

"We are all empty houses waiting for someone to open the lock and set us free. One day, my wish comes true. A man arrives like a ghost and takes me away from confinement. And I follow without doubts, without reserve, until I find my new destiny."

-Director of "3-Iron"


What I would give for a day at the beach.

i'm tired of being happy.

i think i'm going to be sad again. sad like how i was sad in high school.