Tuesday, November 28, 2006

When we walked up the stairs and through the heavy white doors, down the carpeted hall to the low-ceilinged room, sat in the back row on temporary green chairs, and focused on the final frozen form of his father, it took a minute to notice that he had not followed.


The end now written;
laid down in stone.
Come by
by cumbersome ways.

Take me back
to where he broke
the glass he shattered
the bullets he spoke
the wrong that seemed to matter.

Put back the rifle
the black from which
no death wish ever returns.

Weave back the blood
to draining veins
replace the cries
and shouts
and silence
to lungs that breathe no more.

Lay little heads
back to bed
to rest and keep
their innocence.

-Kate Caretto

Tell me a happy story.
Cellar Door


DONNIE
What's "Cellar Door"?

MS. POMEROY
(spaced out)
A famous linguist once said... that of all
the phrases in the English language, of
all the endless combinations of words in
all of history... that "Cellar Door" is
the most beautiful.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

I have about 10 minutes. I really should be studying, but oh well. I'll leave that for the Holiday. Just like everything else I should be doing like writing my aunt to tell her when spring break is to see if I can come down to see her. Like out walking in the cold air because I will be sitting on my butt all day. Like really working off that Lost Perfect 10 which I haven't even finished yet, but I'm still very hyper and talkative. I'm never talkative. Just look at my phone bill. Oh, wait. How about not. School has all of three weeks left. I am dissapointed with my last lab quiz. I am really going to fail my math final (who says that the third root of 100 is 3? Who does that?). But I digress. How can that happen? If you don't have a point in the first place, how can you digress? I don't know. I have about 30 Dictionary a Day emails in my inbox which I haven't had a chance to look at yet. Do they sink in if I just let them sit there? Do I really have to read them and copy them down in my little journal and let them seep into my everyday life? I guess so, considering I don't remember any of them. I should really get cracking on the ACT too. I can not wait to go back to Flint. Rochester people do not know how to drive. Or rather, I can not get used to how they drive. When those folks put on thier brakes, they mean it! The SHO convention will be a blast. Now to come up with 500+ dollars. Ha ha ha. How can I justify that when children are starving and being beaten and raped of everything they have? How can I justify my life as I lead it? How can I sit here and think about my next meal when mothers give thier lives to see their children chew a handful of grain? But my 10 minutes is up. I only hope to one day use it more wisely.... I only hope to see a starving child enjoy 10 minutes as much as I have enjoyed my life.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry.
I colored my hair last night
And left splatters of dye on the rug.
I made a mug of coffee this morning
And left the grounds in the drain.
I grabbed the last box of tissues
And you had to use your sleeve for tears.

I'm sorry.
I brushed my hair
And left the strands in the comb.
I forgot it was the weekend
And my alarm rang out at six a.m.
I lost the ambition to quit
And I took your Camel Wides.

I'm sorry.
I'm not sorry for
What I left behind.
I'm sorry for running away form your hopes.
I'm sorry for you walking into my room,
My bags were packed and gone,
My whereabouts posted unknown,
My stuffed animals gone from my bed,
And you were left to cry on the dirty carpet.
I'm sorry for the words left unspoken,
The signs un-noticed,
The hostility overpowering,
The ostensible affection.

I'm sorry.

-Kate Caretto
Orgy: Blue Monday

How does it feel to treat me like you do?
When you've laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are
I thought I was mistaken
I thought I heard your words
Tell me
How do I feel? tell me now
How do I feel

How does it feel?
How should I feel?
Tell me how does it feel?
To treat me like you do

Those who came before me
Lived through their vocations
From the past until completion
They'll turn away no more
And I still find it so hard
To say what I need to say
But I'm quite sure that you'll tell me
Just how I should feel today

I see ship in the harbor
I can and shall obey
But if it wasn't for your misfortunes
I'd be a heavenly person today
And I thought I was mistaken
And I thought I heard you speak
Tell me now
How should I feel
Now I stand here waiting...
I thought I told you to leave me
While I walked down to the beach
Tell me how does it feel
when your heart grows cold

How does it feel?
How should I feel?
Tell me how does it feel?
To treat me like you do

Saturday, October 28, 2006

"Do you know how fast you were going meow?"

-Super Toopers

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Hey all. Winter is here it seems. It feels like school and I am thrilled. I think that I want to stay at a college indefinitely. Starbucks, Borders, late night libraries, weekend sports celebrations with no interest in the actual game, hungover weekend days with family, quick breakfasts, quicker lunches, do-I-have-to dinners, I'll-call-you-backs. Yes, college is the life for me.

October saw a 15.8 second quarter mile for my baby. Not bad for nine years old and a hundred and ninety three thousand miles. I love my car.

I need more time to write. I think we should all campaign for longer weekends. There should be like a pre-weekend and then the actual weekend. Toronto should last longer too...
The Royal Agricultural Winter Fair, Toronto, ON, Canada.
This is one of my future essay subjects, among these to:

-How I need to change, how I can change the world
-My love for my car
-Get-into-vet-school essay
-I-could-use-a-scholarship essay

I'll try to work on those...

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Only four weeks until I go to Toronto! I can't wait. This year is going to rock, if it's the only good thing about this year. I will also have had this blog for a year. Kinda sad...

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Thing One, Conrad, Sally. Conrad, Sally, Thing One.

Thing Two, Conrad, Sally. Conrad, Sally, Thing Two.

Thing One, Thing Two. Thing Two, Thing One. Conrad, Sally. Sally, Conrad.

I am the Cat. Don't belittle me.

Ah, yes, of course.

Thing Two would like to clarify that just because he wears the number two...

does not imply in any way that he's inferior to Thing One.

And all of the above.

He says you may feel free to call him Thing "A," if you like.

He will also accept Super Thing, Thing King, Kid Dynamite,

Chocolate Thun-Da... or Ben.



The Cat in the Hat

She folded his sweatshirt,
Neat and clean jus like
The lines between them.

She placed it in the box with
His Christmas present;
A time they never got to share.
He only saw the times when they were apart.

She took a forced breath,
And closed her eyes,
His face already fading in her memory,
His fragrance still an aegis to reality.

She printed his address from
Her birthday card, a
Memento from happier times,
Maybe the only one.

She mailed it out two weeks late.
Prolonging what was already gone.

She sent it out with every good feeling left,
And sealed it with silence,
Realizing too late that she had given him
What was left of her.

-Kate Caretto

Saturday, October 07, 2006

D 12: How Come

[Eminem:]
So I changed huh? You got a phone, pick it up, call me

How come we dont even talk no more
And you dont even call no more
We dont barely keep in touch at all
And I dont even feel the same love when we hug no more
And I heard it through the grape vine we even beefin now
After all the years we been down
Aint no way no how, this bullshit can't be true
We family and aint a damn thing changed, unless it's you

[Verse 1: Eminem]
So young, so full of life in vibrant side by side wherever you was ridin' i went
So close, almost on some bonnie and clyde shit
When ronnie died you weres right by my side with a sholder to cry on
Tissue to wipe my eyes, and a bucket to catch every tear i cried inside it
You even had the same type of childhood i did
Sometimes i just want to know why is it that you surcame to yours
And mine i survived it, you ran the streets, i 9 to 5'd it
We grew up, grew apart, as time went by us, then i blew up
To both yours and mine surprises
Now i feel the vibe i just cant describe it
As much as your pride tries to hide it
Your cold, you touch its like ice
In your eyes is the look of resenment
I can sense it, and i dont like it

[Verse 2: Kon Artis]

It was my dream at first to be on spittin a verse
On my own album with a deal but shit got worse
So i came out i woulda killed a nigga first
Before i let him disrespect me and check me over some worste
Some bitch that i wasnt with i would hit her then quit
But you would pull a talk with her and tell her she was the shit
I told you dont get involved in it, you was smokin the chron with her
Comin out of the bar with her stumblin half drunk
Like yall was husband and wife or somethin
But me catchin her fuckin other niggers musta hurt you pride or somethin
Cuz you wont fuck at the mouth with people like you wanted with me
When all i tried to do was show you that your bitch was shifty
And ever since the fans and all the shit that i produced
You actin like i aint you man and lyin like she can't be loose
But i am really you friend, i'm jus trying to tell you the truth
But dont hate the game or the player
Cuz the one that is changing is you

[Verse 3: Proof]

You're only at the top cuz my homie had to stop
Now we actin like i gotta live only for the block
Homies in the hood only she be on the tube
Only gossip on the porch get to speakin on who
Fools i used to rap with all expect magic
Like my finger get to snappin and *poof* it jus happen
But PROOF is jus actin out the party was stoned
Shady made it so my babys aint starvin at home
See the devil in you grin since the ghetto we been friends
Whenever real intelligence thats forever till the end
I be the hatred in your eyes and the satan in your lives
And wastin my times with these snakes in disguise
(how come) when you talk its with bitter is fight
And (how come) it's my fault for what you did with your life

And everytime i go to hear you and play you look away
We barely embrace, you can't even look me in my face.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Hello world. Lonely World. I am waiting for some pictures to attach to an email, so I decided to write. This is my favorite pastime. This is what I live for, if anything. This is my passion.

The Family Values Tour was awesome. Peter got his eye messed up (and I mean
messed up) in the mosh pit, but he's doing better and neither of us got high or drunk or arrested so it was all pretty un-regrettable. I know Korn was the headliner, but we didn't stay for their whole performance. They aren't that great (no offence to any Korn fans) and Peter's eye was really starting to hurt. Tator Salad and his sister and a bunch of cool people were there. I was surprised to see TS, but I'm glad I did. He is so funny when he's tipsy. Stone Sour rocked, as did Flyleaf and they can rest assured that the concert did increase CD sales, cause I just bought both.

School is the shizniz; that's about all there. I must say, though, that I really don't like getting less than 100%. It's not that I have technically failed, but I have still failed to make the full score. There is still room for improvement.
I could use a lot of help in that whole "improving thyself" realm.

I didn't eat dinner tonight. I take the stand of calling awareness to world hunger. So be aware. Be hungry.

My Baby is going to get special treatment before winter. I really would like her doors to stay closed while driving through Rochester and, hell, if she would start on most mornings that would be spiffy. How about a plate that says "blk bull?" I think it's a keeper. I have also come up with the best story for why she has a dent in every body panel- "We was sendin down this deal in the hood. We were all tryin to pack up and chill off when all these thugs came just came a'runnin all at us. We was tryin to bust outta there and went heavy on the throttle. Well, a few gangstas got caught up and went "thud" and so that's where the damage came from. We was hittin gangstas in the hood."

Ex Libris is my new muse. I am in awe at some of the artists and their work. They have become my heroes. Goodbye Superman, these mortals can write! I really must pursue my dreams. When I do I feel so much more me. At least there is a me somewhere.

I really hate myself when I can not take the leap of faith to throw myself out in the world and not give a care what people think. I'm always so caught up with what people think that I just know I am, and have been, missing out on life options that may have taken me down a better road. Am I being too vague? I'm sorry. I'm just afraid of what you'll say...

This is a shout out to Riley, Steve, and Jeff (if that's what your name is).
This is a shout out to my homeslice.

Chow.

Friday, September 08, 2006

The Exies: Ugly

Are you ugly?
A liar like me?
A user, a lost soul?
Someone you don’t know
Money it’s no cure
A Sickness so pure
Are you like me?
Are you ugly?

We are dirt, we are alone
You know we're far from sober!
We are fake, we are afraid
You know it’s far from over
We are dirt we are alone
You know we're far from sober!
Look closer, are you like me?
Are you ugly?

Turn a blind eye
Why do I deny?
Medicate me
So I die Happy
A strain of cancer
Chokes the answers
Are you like me?
A liar like me?

I don’t care, you don’t care
I’m bitter, you’re angry.
You don’t care, I don’t care
You love you, just like me
I blame you, you blame me
I’m bitter, you’re angry.
You don’t care, I don’t care
You love you, like me

Are you Ugly?
Are you Ugly?
Are you Ugly?
Fuck that Shit.

Every time I think I'm over him, I think of him again.
Every time I think we're getting along, I go and screw things up again.
Every time I think it's ok, they go and make me jealous again.
Every time I think I'm gonna quit, I end up giving in and doing it again.
Every time.
Every time.
Every time.
Please bury me.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Deadsy: Brand New Love

The desperate eyes that close, maybe it goes away.
Please rest tomorrow,and bring a satisfied day.
The restless urge of love that's worth, the burning for.
Surely it's that one comforting, love to give you more.
And this thought can be that begins, the brand new tangled web you're spinning.
Anyone can be your brand new love.
Any time the force can be broken, to tear your bitter world to be open.
Anyone can be your brand new love.
You won't be the first.
Your twisted change is normal...gossip, dirt.
Whisper to the nodding head, thrilled you fell apart instead of them.
But they will,'cause any hope for love can be killed.
If you need a different face, it's definite time to destroy this place.
Follow what you feel, you alone will decide what's real.
Anyone can be your brand new love.



Tell me a happy story, please. Anyone. If you will hold me tonight and tell me it's all going to be ok, I will be yours. Call me 'baby girl' and run your lips along my neck. Tell me I am precious. Make me feel... I don't care like what, I just want to feel. To be alive. To love. To be loved. Whisper sweet nothings in my ear and wrap your arms around me. Make my spine tingle and my eyelids close. Can you do this? Can you be my everything? If you can not, will you please tell me. Don't lie to me. Don't build up trust that you will later break down.
My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safty of a lie.

-Vida Winter
The Thirteenth Tale
Diane Setterfield

surcease \SUR-sees; sur-SEES\, noun:
Cessation; stop; end.

One of his clearest remembrances from childhood was the

feeling that swept over him when, on a Saturday morning,

the sun had sequestered itself behind a cascade of clouds

and rain, thick, relentless walls of rain, came pounding

down with no promise of surcease, black greasy rain

that eradicated all hopes of an outdoor day.


-- Stanley Bing, Lloyd: What Happened

When flights are delayed and the airport concourse looks

like the subway at rush hour, children crawling among luggage a

nd lines winding to pay phones, anxious travelers yearn

for surcease.


-- Betsy Wade, "Airline Clubs: Worth the Cost?", New York Times,

August 24, 1997

Friday, August 25, 2006

Friday, August 18, 2006

Sayings that make me happy: (or at least smile a little:)
Oh snap! what the hell?
-Sweet Daddy
No, there's no lotion on the puppet's ass.
-Jeff Dunham
Only on Tuesdays.
-Cassie
Rip it!
-A. F.
You can't fix stupid.
-Ron White
It must be obvious day at camp stupid.
-??
North Pole. Fuck the South Pole!
-Peter
How about no, Scott.
-Cassie
Mater. Like Ta-Mater. Except without the 'Ta.'
-Mater (Larry the Cable Guy)
Happier than a tornader in a trailer park!
-Mater (Larry the Cable Guy)
Panuche.
-Pendelton
Dan, give me the damn turtle!
-Helen (Kate Hudson)
Scotland!
-Rachel, Kera, and Leslie
Dirt-Da-Dir!
-Pendelton
He shut my Stick in the door.
-Jose Jalepeno on a Stick!
You are here.
-Peanut
Aw hell, they can carpool.
-Walter
...
Dear Friends,
I am writing this while I still have a life and time to do stuff. I am apologizing for the future if I may not show any signs of life for a few weeks. I will be starting school (Chemistry and Math this semester) and still working part time and doing all the animal chores at home. My social life is officially over in one week.
Thank-you and sorry for any inconvenience.
Kate

Monday, August 14, 2006

Cold: Wasted Years

There's a game life plays
makes you think you're everything they ever said you were
Like to take some time
Clear away everything I planned
Was it life I betrayed
for the shape that I'm in?
It's not hard to fail
it's not easy to win
did I drink too much?
could I disappear?
and there's nothing that's left but wasted years
There's nothing left but wasted years
If I could change my life
Be a simple kind of man
try to do the best I can
if I could see the signs
I'd derail every path I could now
I'm about to die
won't you clear away from me
give me strength to fly away
Was it life I betrayed
for the shape that I'm in?
It's not hard to fail
It's not easy to win
Did I drink too much?
Could I disappear?
There's nothing left but wasted years
There's nothing left but wasted years
Nothing but wasted years

Monday, August 07, 2006

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

"I want to be a writer! I want to be someone famous."

"But writers don't have two nickels to rub together."

"I don't care! I still want to be famous. Why does this world always have to go around on money?"

"Because both are an illusion. Just as love and heartbreak are illusions."

"Then why do illusions feel so strong? Or hurt so bad?"

"Life is an illusion. The pain you endure, the love you experience: none of it is real. Feelings are illusions."


"What is real? Please tell me there is something real."

"Happiness , my darling. Happiness is real because no one living can experience real honest happiness. It is not a part of life. You might say that life and happiness are opposites."

"Then what is the point to life? Would it not be smartest to end it now and move on to reality and happiness?"

"How wise of you to believe that after life is the reality. You have hope, and that is good. Some people may have believed that the reality has passed: but no. True happiness is yet to come. The point to life is to prove that you are worthy of happiness. You, and all of us, must prove that we have the desire and appreciation for happiness. We all are kept here until we have proved this, but your time can run out if you are not careful. We are all allowed a certain time to prove ourselves, and you must complete the task by your personal deadline."

"Then I beg of you, tell me what my task is."

"I can not do that. There is only one who can answer your questions. You must look to Him and trust in Him completely. This is how you prove yourself. There is only one way, and you must desire happiness."

"But I want to be a writer..."

"Listen to me," he took ahold of her frail shoulders,
"You must desire happiness."

Friday, July 28, 2006

I am hot and sweaty and stinky and I have sores on the sides of my feet. I love this feeling. I have to get up at 5:30 tomorrow morning. I can't wait. I love horse shows, and I know I'll have a great time.
Georgia was wonderful, in case you were wondering. I was so happy, except for the last night when I remembered that I had to go home in the morning. The plane trip back was only one hour and twenty-six minutes! And no, there were no delays. I actually arrived at the gate just as they started to board. I got my fill of "The Life" laying out at the pool and eating out. I even got to taste Chick Filet's famous chicken. And Zaxby's. Why is chicken so popular down there?
I really feel kinda confused. What else is new, right? I feel so insignificant, like there is nothing I can do to change the course of events that starts me rolling down a mountainside with no brakes. Or someone else....
Emmiline told me that I have friends. Well, actually, I told her that I have no friends, and she pointed it out for me. I don't like her. I'm sure she's a wonderful person, I just don't get along with her that well. I resent the fact that I have no friends. I'm going to see a movie by myself tomorrow night. Maybe I'll go with my imaginary bunny friend. Maybe I'll call him Frank.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Savvy?

I am, today, forty dollars richer. That is, in U.S. currency. I would have gladly taken half, or even the whole of it in chocolate. Oh, and maybe a Pink Floyd CD. But despite all of this prosperity, I smell like burning Blue Spruce and newspaper and sap is splotched randomly along my arms and the shirt I have yet refused to change out of. It's about 85 outside, and I am an hour's past a mile walk home. This walk was not terribly enjoyable, what with the traffic and the neighbor's rotten dogs, but it was the relief upon arriving home that I am now content with. I am counting the hours until I board the plane. I am bound and determined to spend my hard earned forty on Starbucks cappiccino and chocolate. I am praying for delays. I will remember to take my new ring with me. And my blue fuzzy pellow. (no, it really is pellow) If the plane decides to take a wrong turn towards Machu Pichu, that would be fine with me, just warn me long enough in advance to pick up enough chocolate to live on till the next flight out. Cheers, mates!
Nickelback: Savin' Me

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

My finger hurts. My right hip hurts. My left thigh hurts. My head hurts. My feet hurt. My lips hurt. My arm hurts. My back hurts.
But most of all, my heart hurts. What joy it would bring to have a free and happy heart. What joy to be free of guilt. To spread my wings and breathe in the air of real happiness. I have this picture in my mind, but the throbbing pain in my body drives me to distraction.
I really don't care to be happy if it requires that I leave my friends behind. They need me. And the calm saddness of the familiar is so much easier to fall asleep with than the thought of leaving someone -anyone- behind to rot in the wasteland alone.
I wish someone could convince me otherwise.
I wish someone could make me believe -not just tell me- that life is worth living.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Rammstein: Klavier

Lyrics ©1997 Rammstein.

Unofficial Translation ©2006 Jeremy Williams.
They tell me

unlock this door
curiosity becomes a scream
what could be behind it
behind this door
stands a piano
the keys are dusty
the strings are out of tune
behind this door
she sits at the piano
but she doesn't play anymore
oh, that was so long ago
There, at the piano

I listened to her
and when her performance began I held my breath
She said to me

I'll always stay with you
but it only seemed
that she played for me alone
I poured her blood
into the fire of my rage
I locked the door
they asked for her
There, at the piano

I listened to her
and when her performance began
I held my breath
There, at the piano
I stood beside her
it seemed
she played for me alone
The door is open

oh, how they scream
I hear mother pleading
father is beating me
they take her from the piano
and no one believes me here
that I am deathly ill
from sorrow and the stench
There, at the piano

I listened to her
and when her performance began
I held my breath
There, at the piano
she listened to me
and when my performance began
she held her breath

Thursday, June 29, 2006

I JUST WANNA KNOW WHO'S DRIVIN' A BLACK MITSUBISHI!
This is for you.
This is for all the underprivileged.
For anyone who has not been appreciated today,
No matter how much you put in.

You are not forgotten.
No,
It is not I who remembers you.
There is one greater than anything
And anyone.
He is greater than you,
....Yet He would give up his everything to save you.

He remembers you today.
He appreciates you today.
He listens to your every thought,
Word,
Plea.
He loves you.

Without having to say it;
God bless you.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

The sunset.
The waves.
The sand.
The stones.
The shells.
The driftwood.
The sailboats.
Even the breeze.
A painter can paint these things.
But can I,
Only a writer of my own enjoyment,
Can I paint these feelings,
These things,

With words?

I now know that there is one thing I can not paint with my words.
It is the lone figure who sits on the sand,
who walks in the waves, and
who lives of the sunset.
This, no one can do,
for no mind,
whether of a painter of a writer,
can do another justice.
*Rough Draft*

Lieing in this oval space,
Somewhat too small, but
Somehow just right.

A tingling line,
Level but wavering,
Encircles my body.
The surface drawing this line.

Below, is part of me,
Submerged in the pressing mass.
Above is reality,
And the part of me which rises to the top.

But here is my favorite part:
My toes grasp the lever
As best they can.
My soothed muscles sink their
Weight down.
Silent.
Subtle.

Sublimely,
The water of my bath escapes me.
Down the drain as my toes
Bid it farewell.

*I have re-discovered the enjoyment of a bath. I will submerge myself more often*

Monday, June 19, 2006

Sunday, June 18, 2006

What does a girl do when she has lost her best friend? All her friends?
For three years she's been there. I'm not quite certain of when I lost who she was. But now she is completely gone from my life, it seems. Just 15 miles away. I could drive there in that many minutes, but I can't. I can't go back and live that life; buy into that pain. I can't be the backbone or the strength for the two of us. Lost, bruised, broken hearts can not lean on each other. I really don't have that strength, not the strength to change both of us.
But what do I do in the meantime?
Make myself throw up, not eat for 48 hours, eat a pint of (really bad) ice cream.
Call my parents and my brother, let the line hang with nothing to say.
Refuse a hug, a touch, a kiss. Crave one immensely.
Get a therapist.
Above all: Cry.
Sob.
Choke on my tears.
Weep behind swollen eyes.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

I wish.
I wish with a thousand words
And with tears like rain.
I wish.
I wish in vain.

I break.
I break because of those whom I love
And in the hands of my friend.
I break,

But I do not bend.

I dream.
I once dreamed,
I think,
But I don't remember.

I drink.
I drink to my sorrow.
Sober-I can not release this pain
These dreams and
Wishes.
And so I break and drink.
She loves him dearly,
She loves him deeply.
She loves him truly,
She loves him surely.
Could I love him the same?

She loved him first,
He'll love her always.
She'll leave him soon,
He'll run to me.

He'll see her in me,
He'll love that part of me.
I'll give him what she never did,
He'll love her more.

She builds him up,
She tears him down.
I'll catch him falling,
He'll pull me down.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Dr. Dre featuring Xzibit: What's the Difference

"What's the difference between me and you? About 5 bank accounts, 3 ounces and 2 vehicles"

What is the difference between me and you? Are we-all of us humans-really that different from each other? Do these differences group in material things like bank accounts and vehicles? This could in turn affect how we live out lives. Would we all be so freaking, boring, plain-old-the-same if everyone had the same amount of concrete possesions?
Or do our differences come from who we are inside? So-and-so is the most faithful of the guys I know, but whats-his-name knows what respect is. Is who we are so important? Can we control who we are?

Thursday, June 01, 2006

I've done it.
I've walked away and said
"You disapoint me."
Because you do.
Every ounce of hope for you
Is gone.
It has been bled out of me by
The love of others
or
The rejection by you.
I'm not sure which.
But you are gone.
"You disapoint me."
I no longer love you.
I no longer care about you.
You are gone
And this is my last good-bye.
My life is rid of you.
Don't bother to turn and face me.
I wouldn't know who you are.
"You fucking disapoint me."
'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair

  • 2006 Bugatti Veyron 16.4
  • 2005 Saleen S7 Twin Turbo
  • 2006 Ford GT
  • Lamborghini Muira (concept)
  • 2006 Dodge Magnum SRT 8 in Black
  • 2006 BMW M3 coupe
  • 1993 Mustang Cobra hardtop in Red
  • 2003 Supercharged Mustang Cobra hardtop in Gunmetal Grey
  • 2006 Ford Puma
  • 2004 Mercury Marauder in Black
  • 1966 Shelby AC Cobra in Blue with White racing stripes
  • 2006 Porche Carrera GT
  • Toyota Alessandro Volta (concept)
  • 1998 Mustang GT convertable in triple Black
  • 1997 Ford Taurus SHO in Ebony (got it: my baby)

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

So, Last week my piano teacher plants a seed in my imagination. I was telling her of a friend of mine who was in a hole in life, and she said to me: "Maybe you're the person that will change their life. Maybe you will be the name they use like a magic wand when they say "if it hadn't been for___ I wouldn't be where I am today." Maybe you can make a difference in this person's life." And now I think...What if? This year has so far gone by without me taking any action of my own. Me. Myself. Who I am. I have not been in control of my life. I have followed, blindly, my friends and other people; what they say is cool and will help me to feel better or get what I want. And so on, and so on.
This is my life dammit!

I can change. I can be the leader of this revolution. I can be the strong one and say "No! I know a better way. This is what I will to do." They may even follow me. Imagine that! They could be happier and go further in their lives because I stood up and took control; took control of my own life and actions and showed them a better way to live. Oh! The possibilities.
So, that would be why I'm sitting on my ass playing Hoyle board games and listening to music illegally copied from a library CD.

Yea me.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006


It's alive again!
Happy Memorial Day everyone!

The bonfire last night was nice. Thanks to my bro for the ambition, thanks to Cassie for coming to be my best friend, thanks to Pendelton for being there and helping us piss off Michael. That was something that was fun-but I don't think I want to do it again.

I am having a hard time dealing with Nate's girlfriend. Not her in particular, but the fact that he has one. Cassie promised she would be single and that lasted all of four months. Peter always has a girl on the waiting list to be his girlfriend. Michael is only after one thing it seems. Pendelton is in love with Cassie, even though he will never have her. Nate has aparently gotten over Rachel enough to go out with another 40 pound slab of jailbait. I really don't know if I want a significant other. Someone to walk up to the bonfire with. A cardboard Captain Jack Sparrow-you know the ones that are set up at Spencer's and stuff-I think that would be perfect. I don't really want to have a boyfriend-and that's the wrong reason to 'get' one anyways-I just want everyone else to be single. It just isn't right. Can't we all just be kids again and all have a good time without worrying about getting to close to someone because so-and-so might beat you up? Can't we all just hug everyone when they leave without wondering if they are thinking about your chest while they are doing so? Damn, we need a friendship revelution. Everyone, do the world a favor; I hereby proclaim June first "I'm Single Day." You all have to be single, even if you're not.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

JUST KIDDING ABOUT THE CIGARETTE!
Well, hello out there to everone!
I am a much happier person today. I am looking at getting a new (previously obsessed over) car. Which shouldn't make me happy because I'll be getting rid of my baby, but I'll get another one someday.
I am at Rochester College with my Mom, which shouldn't make me happy, except that I love colleges and Rochester and shopping, which I have done.
My Mom is trying to set me up with a "nice guy." Thanks Mom. (Blahh!) Someone else might think I want to go out with him, but that is not true. The fact is, I am not going out with anyone for a very long time. Especially Michael.
Tonight is coconut shrimp and peanut chicken night for Pendelton and Cassie and maybe Crackers. I love to cook. And I love to drive. And I love to spend money.
This year continues to be not a good one, hence the questioning by the police and the rumors told about me and my ex trying to ruin my life. And me being very agreeable and ruining it as well.
Yay me.
I need a cigarette.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Everclear: Learning How to Smile

Five miles outside of vegas when we broke down
Threw my keys inside the window and we never looked back
Got all drunk and sloppy on a greyhound bus
We passed out, all them losers they were laughing at us
I will never let them break your heart
No I will never let them break me
We got lost in phoenix, seemed like such a long time
Seven months of livin swimming on those thin white lines
Did some time for sellin acid to the wrong guy
Life just keeps on gettin smaller and we never ask why
Why there is no perfect place, yes I know this is true
Im just learning how to smile
Thats not easy to do
I know there will come a day
When we can leave and just go runnin away
We was broke outside of philly when the storms came
I was working in new jersey, hitchin rides in the rain
You was happy talkin dirty at that phone sex place
Life just keeps on gettin weirder for us every day
You say there is no perfect place, I say I know this is true
We are just learning how to smile
Thats not easy to do
We both live for the day
When we can run away
Oh baby we can leave and run away
Yes we can leave this place and run away
We can leave it all behind like we do every time
Yes we both live for the day
When we can leave and just go runnin away
No I will never let it break your heart
No I will never let it break me
Five miles outside of vegas, five years down the line
We got married in the desert and the sunshine
I cant handle how the hell it happens every day
When you smile and touch my face
You make it all just go away
Yes I know there aint no finish line, I know this never ends
But Im just learning how to fall, climb back up again
I know there is nothing perfect, I know there is nothing new
We are just learning how to live together, me and you
You know I live for the day
When you say baby lets just run away
Oh baby we can leave and run away
Yes we can leave this place and run away
Baby we can leave and run away
We can leave this place and run away

Monday, May 15, 2006

For all of you who read my last entry, I'm not talking about a human child. I should be thankfull that I do not have that complication in my life. No, my baby is my car. It is sad to me that she is falling apart, but it probably means nothing to the general public. Sorry to mislead you.

Friday, May 12, 2006

If I stopped loving people, would they stop hurting me? If I just didn't give a fuck anymore. If I could somehow see how hurting me is so much fun, or how it can be so easy. If I hurt everyone back, would I feel better? I've decided that I will stop getting attached to people. It hurts a lot less when they die or change. But that's selfish, because I'm sure I've changed too, and no one can help change. It is also selfish to think that I am the only one who gets hit with shit. I think I would do very well with out 'friends.' I really think I am not the kind of person who needs people. I spent most of my life without friends anyway. If I kept everything inside, would it just go away? I can't tell my friends anyway. To do that I must first trust them and feel like they will care and understand and listen and not smear my blood all over my white face. This is what happens when someone you trust the most breaks that trust. You never want to trust again. I am afraid. This is what happens when someone you love the most, or everyone you love the most, rejects you. Your love is wasted and I don't want to give it away again. I'm scared. Can't you hear me? Is this the voice of everyone? Am I no different than every Hollywood starlet, every Beecher boy, every convicted murderer, every peace protester and soldier, every grey old lady who prays for the poor souls in purgatory, every angel? Am I being selfish to ask for what I can't truly deserve? Am I hurting everyone else in the process of being selfish? If so, hurting others is surely not enjoyable. Please tell me who I can be mad at. Please tell me who I can talk to. Please tell me who I can trust. Please tell me who I can love. Please tell me I can love. Please. Please.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Dr. Dre/Eminem: Forgot About Dre
...so fuck ya'll, all ya'll. If ya'll don't like me, blow me...

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Hi all. Whazzup? Remember when that whole "what's up" thing was so huge? I really find it annoying now, but I still find myself saying it. Has anybody ever heard the word "famed" before? I swear It's a word, but my english teacher was confused. Poor Wendy. I'll miss her. She was so....peppy. School is over until August now for me. Welcome summer. Summer of work and spending money and riding around in my car with the sunroof open and the heartbeat of my soul pounding through my head. And reading too. Ishmael by Daniel Quinn is on my list next. Oh, yeah, I went to Virginia! It's so freaking weird on base, like another world, a micro-world that's made to look real, but just doesn't quite cut it. I feel sorry for you Nate honey. Did you tell drill sergeant whatshisname that I want his car? I wouldn't be able to give up my baby though. That reminds me that I need to make the list of fifteen cars that I'm going to have when I'm a big rock star. (stop laughing damit!) What the hell is on Peanut's butt that would label me a potential terroist? Sorry: inside joke. Speaking of inside- ok this NOT what I was thinking- a certain person thinks I screwed another certain person which only says that the first certain person does not know me that well and if he thinks that he is getting some ass too he is totally wrong because I just don't do that. Got it? I thought it was hilarious. We should spread rumors about people more often, cause it confuses people and then they flip out and you can be all "oops. joke. got it? funny. laugh!" Dert-d-dir! I gotta go. I'm making coconut shrimp for dinner tonight. If the guys don't like it, too bad. More for me and Moma. When I move out I will make shrimp and chicken and quiche and spicy chipotle brownies and peanut chicken and pesto pasta salad. Mmmmmm! I want a bright kitchen with a lot of counter space and French doors that open onto a deck. Maybe not the deck. Funny thing is, I would be a first class domestic goddess. I could do the cooking, cleaning, laundry, decorating, gardening, maybe even the sewing. But I really don't think that that is the life I'll want in the end. I'm not ready to stop being an intellectual and influential human being, and I haven't even really started. I want to go through veterinary school and then work for a drug giant and find a vaccine for stupidity. (Foolish dreams) I wish I could take the easy road because it would be...well...easy. I could make some guy really happy. But I'm just selfish like that and I don't want to be boring. I guess I'd better stop ordering boring as hell salads then... See you in Sa-na-ta-An-na. How.
Bleeding
Each drip a word,
Previously undiscovered.
This is my blood,
Poured out on this page.
Brilliant red and
Useless to you.
Touch it while it is wet and
It will conform to your fingerprint.
Soon it will clot and
Be a blob of nothingness.
Repulsive and shapeless.
This is my blood,
Poured out on this page for
All to see.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

More true

Sometimes it takes a sunburn
for us to realize that the sun has shone on us.
Sometimes it takes a broken heart
for us to realize that we had loved that much.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

My Poor Baby's Cousins

Mortality Tables
new 5/13/03
Today I got two letters asking if cam failure is inevitable or abuse/neglect related. I would remind all owners that this is a design defect which has so far effected each and every year and in very large numbers.
Based on rather sophisticated modeling our best estimate is that by the end of 2002 about 77% of V8SHOs have experienced cam failure. By the end of 2003 we project 86% of V8SHOs will experience cam failure. This is a confirmation of my worst fears based on the recent sudden drop of reported failures. When do Sharks Quit Eating?
Our reports are that Ford has been out of engines since last summer, We have also received a lot of reports of folks getting stiffed by Ford even if they have a warranty. What We Know, What Ford Does Not Want You to Know, & Who Is To Blame.
We once thought that an owner should experience a ticking noise for a month or 1,000 miles before a cam lets go. We since learned not to rely on that. We then assumed that every cam failure is at least preceded by some audible warning, That is not the case:
"BTW, for those SHO owners delaying the weld, please consider this. The sprocket on my back exhaust was loose and had moved about 1/8 inch. Absolutely no noise yet. I'm a very lucky guy and I truly do appreciate that fact. " - FPS Cam Weld Experience
We know that about 1,000 V8SHOs have welded cams which should never fail as long as the valves don't stick. We now know that about 21,000 V8SHOs were made. What we don't know is what percent of the V8SHOs with cam failures are repaired and back on the road. Certainly an owner is more likely to repair an engine when the book value was $20,000 than when it is $6,000 or less. Based on informal estimates I suspect only 50% - 25% of recent cam failures are quickly repaired.
If we do prevail in our class action lawsuit it may be in 2007 or later? How many owners will then take that compensation and revive a SHO that has been parked for 4-6 years? We know this, the vast majority of V8SHOs with stock cams have failed or will fail soon to the complete indifference of Ford. Reptiles and ants make better parents. If you have a V8SHO and the cams have not yet failed I can tell you of the guy I know with 190,000 miles before he got the ticking noise. But I could also tell you of 3 cam failures before 25,000 miles and that the average cam failure occurs at 75,000 and that we think about 82% have failed so far. (not that there was ever an aftermarket market for our cars). The target market for new V8 SHOs was 55 years old, now tell me 82% of near retirement owners abuse their cars?
Soon and very soon there will only be those who welded or pined their cams or the very rare exception. Hey maybe you are that lucky? I doubt it, and I am sick because soon our car will all but cease to exist. And Ford never cared, they knew and let it happen.
If you have a V8 SHO, weld it or you will soon lose it. It is that simple. See Folks Who Will Weld Your Cams. One can prevent failure at much less cost and trouble than repair or replace an engine. If you lose an engine and even if you one day get reimbursed by Ford it will never bring back the buffalo.
You need to do the 100k PM anyway, fix the burned rear main wiring harness and clean the butterflies anyway. Why not do it early and save your car too?
See Consensus Recommendation
Sorry to be the one sharing bad news,
Buford

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Easter

Ok, honestly, what is Easter to you? Would you rather be celabrating; God in human form who has defeated natural laws of life and death, or a fuzzy bunny? I'll pick the first, thank-you very much. I finally cleaned my (Nate's) car yesterday! I only did the interior, but I finally got the coffee off of the steering column. You know, the stuff that's been there since November. I even, maybe, got a little sun. I know it's not good for my skin, but I didn't get pink and it does a hell of a lot of good for my insides. I love the sun! Happy Easter! He is risen! Alleluia! (ok, enough exclamation points) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (sorry)

Sunday, April 02, 2006

3 Doors Down: Kryptonite

I took a walk around the world
To ease my troubled mind
I left my body laying somewhere
In the sands of time
But I watched the world float
To the dark side of the moon

I feel there is nothing I can do, yeah

I watched the world float
To the dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be
Something to do with you
I really don’t mind what happens now and then
As long as you’ll be my friend at the end

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I’m alive and well, will you be
There a-holding my hand
I’ll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might
Kryptonite

You called me strong, you called me weak,
But still your secrets I will keep
You took for granted all the times
I never let you down
You stumbled in and bumped your head,
If not for me then you'd be dead
I picked you up and put you back
On solid ground

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I’m alive and well,
Will you be there a-holding my hand
I’ll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might
Kryptonite
Yeah!!

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I’m alive and well, will you be there
Holding my hand
I’ll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might
Kryptonite

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well,
Will you be there a-holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might
Kryptonite
Yeah!!


I think of Nate everytime I hear this (and yes, you are still Superman.)

Growing Apart

You see, there once were two little girls,
And these girls were very much the same,
And they became the best of friends.

They had pure hearts behind clear blue eyes,
And they had imaginative dreams stored in clear minds.

The one little girl would stumble,
And the other little girl would support her.
The one little girl would lose her way,
And the other little girl would open her eyes.
The one little girl would cry a tear,
And the other little girl would wipe it away.

The two little girls shared their dreams,
And confronted their fears.
They comforted each other in times of despair,
And they were the best of friends.

One day, the one little girl found her dreams to be crumbling,
And she looked to the other for support,
But the other little girl had turned into a woman,
And dreams were empty hopes to her.

The one little girl could no longer see the right path,
And she asked for assurance in what was right,
But the other little girl had become a woman,
And her footpath was paved with eggshells and glass.

The one little girl cried a river,
And she reached to the other for a dry shoulder,
But the other little girl had abandoned her childish fears,
And her shoulder was drenched with the sorrow of a woman.
Her arms surrounded the world in the raw,
And justified their careless bloodshed.
She no longer had the strength to spare.

The one little girl still held this woman as her friend,
And she saw the hurt in her clear blue eyes,
And she did not understand.

The one little girl offered her love to her friend, who was now a woman,
But her friend needed more than she could get.
The one little girl saw that her friend would never be happy,
And she was very much like her friend,
And the one little girl could no longer find a reason to be happy.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Taproot: I

I am seeing tunnel vision in a world thats dark and cold, I cannot believe how much I've changed since the days of old, I know it's temporary but I need to focus straight, I cannot believe I lost control of my fate, I need forgiveness from the people I truely care about, I need support behind my back to help me spit it out I am gonna win, I can't afford to blow this one, I hate myself sometimes, I love myself, I need this way of life because it holds me. contradictions the way of life happiness is wealthyness is healthy now I've made it through those lies and deceit, I think whats done is done and I can't complain anymore i am sure, now that I've found myself again it feels great I can't believe I'd lost control of my fate.

************************************************************************************


How can I take control of my fate? How can I direct my life through God and all that is good, and ignore all that is evil? Sometimes it is so hard to decern what is good and what is bad. I guess that's what's so hard about getting older; not everything is 'yes' or 'no' anymore. You have to learn to adapt to having grey, not just black and white. It's so frusturating! I like everything to be clear cut and have straight lines and set bounderies. I like that comfort of being sure.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I have once again been reminded why I don't want kids...

I'm with Cassie (Yea!) and we/she are babysitting at this one place in this one city. They are really not bad kids, but they are crazy! I'm also trying to write a paper, which is totally not working. It's a bad subject anyways. I'm supposed to define a role that I have been in or am in. How stupid is that? go against everything I've been taught and stereotype myself to fit in a box. Arrrggguhhhh! I am going to get a new pair of jeans (actually only one, isn't that weird how we call it a "pair"?) tomorrow or the next day so I can wear them to the concert on Saturday. I'm so excited! I'm also really excited to go to Vierginia. I'm still hoping and praying that my Mom will say yes. I came up with a revelation, actually, not really, I'm not sure if it's true or not, but here goes. Why do I still think about you? Because I can't stop. Because I still love you, even if we have both moved on. Because everytime I do think about you, I realize there is one more piece of my heart that you still have. Because I realize that I may never get all of those pieces back...