Taylor Swift: White Horse

Say your sorry
That face of an angel comes out
Just when you need it to.
As I pace back and forth
All this time cause
I honestly believed in you.
Holdin' on
The days drag on
Stupid girl I should have known, I should have known.

That I'm not a princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet,
Lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now it's to late for you and your white horse to come around.

Maybe I was naÎve, got lost in your eyes,
and never really had a chance.
my mistake, I didn't know to be in love
you had to fight to have the upper hand
I had so many dreams about you and me.
Happy endings, well now I know...

That I'm not a princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet,
lead her up the stairwell.
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now its too late for you and your white horse to come around.

And there you are on your knees.
Begging for forgiveness, begging for me.
Just like I always wanted but, I'm so sorry.

Cause I'm not your princess.
This ain't a fairytale.
I'm gonna find someone some day, who might actually treat me well.
This is a big world.
That was a small town, there in my rearview mirror disappearing now.
And it's too late for you and your white horse...
Its too late for you and your white horse to
catch me now.

"I ain't settlin for anything less than everything"

I want a man who is worth my time and my energy. Someone who is Catholic and truly follows the Church. I want a man who puts God and Church before me, but nothing else. A man who knows what it is to love and not just what it is to gloat over. A man who can appreciate me not only for my "beauty" but for what my dreams are, what my aspirations and goals are, and my ability to achieve those goals. I want a man who can understand and identify with the way I want my life to go. I do not want a man who will conform to my wishes and fit into my values, but rather one who already embraces the same values and holds the same expectations for the future.
I want a man who knows how to feel, how to cry, how to comfort and how to listen.
Empathy. Compassion. Strength of character, body and emotion. Depth of character.
I want a man who has interests and passions that add dimension to his life. Prove to me that you have a life--because I will not be creating one for you.

IMHO: two of the best voices in country music

Clint Black

Gary Allen

So she is your everything. She is your happiness and joy. Your only one.
Let me tell you something...I've been to hell and back to get you back. And all you can do is think about her, talk to her...she's the only one you can love. After I've prayed so hard and known beyond all doubt that I would do anything for you to just be here with us again; it hurts so much to have someone take you away again. The only difference is that now I have someone to blame. I guess now I am finally used to being thrown over for someone else. So there is no need for pity. My heart can only get so much colder and more resentful. I'm used to not being good enough, no matter how hard I try. So go ahead and go. LEAVE ME and everyone else behind. I hope she's worth it because when she's not you just might find me
gone.

You will lure her.
You will convince her to go to your church with you, to believe what you believe and to stay the night with you.
You speak of the kinds of values that make a family. Stories of fellowship and belonging and oh how she longs to be a part of it all. She stares in awe at your self-love. She wants to be so loved, so self assured.
But I ask you; where is your god? Is it your own words that you preach, or truly those of God?
Where is your humility,
your acceptance of failure,
where is your guilt?
You preach only of your personal Jesus,
not the Most High.
You worship your own god, not the one true God.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough
money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to...


A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
something
perfect to wear if the employer,
or date of her dreams
wants to see her in an hour...


A WOMAN SHOULD
HAVE .
a youth she's content to leave behind....


A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
a past juicy
enough that she's looking forward to
retelling it in her
old age....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...


A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
one friend who
always makes her laugh.. and one who lets her cry...


A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a good piece
of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her
family...


A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
eight
matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for
a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored...


A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .
a feeling of
control over her destiny..


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD
KNOW...
how to fall in love without losing herself..


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to quit
a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend
without;
ruining the friendship...


EVERY WOMAN
SHOULD KNOW...
when to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK
AWAY...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that her
childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she
would and wouldn't do for love or more...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW....
how to live
alone... even if she doesn't like it...


EVERY
WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. .
whom she can trust,
whom she can't,
and why she shouldn't take it personally...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
where to
go...
be it to her best friend's kitchen table..
or a
charming Inn in the woods....
when her soul needs
soothing...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
What she can and can't accomplish in a day...
a
month...and a year...

-Maya Angelou

Distressing facts of life:
I don't believe that there is any man who wears Calvin Klein Obsession.

I hate those days where you just feel stupid. Days like today and yesterday. Where everything you did in the day was a waste of time. Every word spoken was useless and unheard and your feeling...your emotions...are the most useless of all. And it will all be forgotten by everyone but you...

Days where you feel ignored and yet you feel obnoxious. You don't dare speak because that horrible stench rotting heart will escape from the back of your throat. And you realize that everyone is only interested in anyone else but you. You're lucky if they even reognize your face next week...

Days where you are surprizingly refreshed to find that people are so different. But also dissapointed to find that they are so much more...or less...than what you expected.

Days where the bottom of you chin spoiler scrapes on the last incline in the parking garage.

Days where you think you look good until you look in the mirrior at lunch time.

Days where you wish you had the money that you spent yesterday.

Days where your headaches come back and remind you that you really haven't changed. You are still a selfish, lying, manipulative, emotional, ignorant, immature, slutty bitch and there is always someone to remind you of your failures. It's only for your own good but you can't help but feel bitter afteward and somehow cheated and slighted on the message that you really were a good person. But it's the same story--you've been lied to. For your whole life it's only been one big lie. And how can you find an honest person in the storm of a lie? How can you pull your heart out from it's shell and warm it to the point where it will once again burn with desire? Can an injured heart ever love without fear? Can bitterness ever be sweetened? Can caring be found once it is lost?

Destiny's Child: Survivor

Now that you're out of my life
I'm so much better
You thought that I'd be weak without you
But I'm stronger
You thought that I'd be broke without you
But I'm richer
You thought that I'd be sad without you
I laugh harder
You thought I wouldn't grow without you
Now I'm wiser
Thought that I'd be helpless without you
But I'm smarter
You thought that I'd be stressed without you
But I'm chillin'
You thought I wouldn't sell without you
Sold 9 million

I'm a survivor
I'm not gon give up
I'm not gon stop
I'm gon work harder
I'm a survivor
I'm gonna make it
I will survive
Keep on survivin'

Thought I couldn't breathe without
I'm inhaling
You thought I couldn't see without you
Perfect vision
You thought I couldn't last without you
But I'm lastin'
You thought that I would die without you
But I'm livin'
Thought that I would fail without you
But I'm on top
Thought it would be over by now
But it won't stop
Thought that I would self destruct
But I'm still here
Even in my years to come
I'm still gon be here

I'm a survivor
I'm not gon give up
I'm not gon stop
I'm gon work harder
I'm a survivor
I'm gonna make it
I will survive
Keep on survivin'

I'm wishin' you the best
Pray that you are blessed
Bring much success, no stress, and lots of happiness
(I'm better than that)
I'm not gon blast you on the radio
(I'm better than that)
I'm not gon lie on you and your family
(I'm better than that)
I'm not gon hate on you in the magazines
('m better than that)
I'm not gon compromise my Christianity
(I'm better than that)
You know I'm not gon diss you on the internet
Cause my mama taught me better than that

After of all of the darkness and sadness
Soon comes happiness
If I surround my self with positive things
I'll gain prosperity

Thoughts...

1. New money smells worse than old money

2. "I'm sober now for three whole months, that's one accomplishment that you helped me with."

3. This summer is my gateway to lots of recreational reading including Atlas Shrugged, Travels with Charlie, and all those books which I'm so glad I have written down somewhere because I have now forgotten how interesting they sounded

4. "If I were to die, murdered in cold blood tomorrow, would you feel sorry, show love, or would it matter?"

5. One page down, nine to go...

Do you believe in coincidence?
Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?
The way I see it, you must believe in one or the other. If you prefer to be passive, then coincidence is the easy option. If things happen for a reason, then there must be someone/something taking responsibility for the occuance. For the sake of Christianity and my own beliefs, I will assume that God is the reason for events. If you choose to believe in another power--mother earth, the full moon, the pull of gravity, your mother--you are more than welcome to do so, but the fact still remains that intentional events must originate from an facillitator.
conversely, coincidental events originate from nothing. They are not connected in any way. They come about by random chance, which has not reason.
So then, if what I say has any truth, and if you believe in coincidence, where is hope, faith and understanding?
If events happen without reason, how can one hope for anything to improve or for life to get better?
Where does one derive faith from? Or is it merely faith in oneself? Can you have true faith in yourself, or is this a selfish and dead-end belief?
How can you make sense of the world if you do not believe in a higher power with omnicient control?


P.S. what about karma?

Eminem: Till I Collapse

Music is like magic there’s a certain feeling you get when your real
and you spit and people are feeling your shit.
This is your moment and every single minute you spend trying to hold onto it
cause you may never get it again.
So while you’re in it try to get as much shit as you can
and when your run is over just admit when its at its end.
Cause I'm at the end of my wits with half this shit that gets in.
I got a list here's the order of my list that it's in...

Peel away the layers of my skin

and you will find me

somewhere below the surface.

Below the epidermis

the dermis is laced with nerves

of high tensile wire

beneath the packages of greed

are veins, flowing with sewage.

Pull out my veins and find musle

that pushes you away

and leaves the last punch.

Below the muscle

you will find a hrad, white cage

holding in the me inside,

the me that wants to hide,

the me I keep inside.

Jewel: Foolish Games

Well in case you failed to notice,

In case you failed to see,

This is my heart bleeding before you,

This is me down on my knees, and

These foolish games are tearing me apart,

And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.

You're breaking my heart.

David Bowie/Nirvana: Man Who Sold the World

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago
Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World
I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died alone, a long long time ago
Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World

I pose a question: one that has me so lost in speculation of its answer that everything else becomes minuscule and irrelevant. A question that baffles me and frustrates me to the point of helpless depression and choked tears. A question so strong in its persistence of "why?" that I can not break from it long enough to find an answer. A question which seems so foolish, so childish, so utterly useless. Yet it remains: this gnawing at my heart every time I become aware that the population must be of an odd number, because one is always left out. There is always one who can never find solace. One who will always be alone when another is most needed. And there always seems to be that one who always has someone. One left in abandon and one who is forever wanted. One who will agonize silently and one who will find comfort in another. One who will never get enough and one who has enough to spare. One who has nothing and one who has everything. Do you notice the one who looks at you with desperate eyes? Do you notice the wanting in my voice and the fire that burns my insides? Do you notice that all I want for is some recognition, some sign that you care. All that would make my day is a smile, a call, a "hello, how are you?." But the fact that I am left with this question proves that people are inherently careless and that my expectations are wasted.

Deftones: Change (In the House of Flies)

I've watched you change
Into a fly
I looked away
You were on fire
I watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So Alive
I've watched you change
I took you home
Set you on the glass
I pulled off your wings
Then I laughed
I watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So alive
I've watched you change
It's like you never
Had wings
I look at the cross
Then I look away
Give you the gun
Blow me away
I've watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So Alive

I want you to see me dead and wonder about me. I want to stare back at you with open eyes and watch you cry my tears. I want to feel your touch when my skin is cold and rubbery. I want you to buy me flowers...would you, when I die?...and sit by my side just to listen to me not breathing. I want to know the feeling of having all of my blood drained from my veins and replaced by something cold and expensive. I want to lie in a soft dark space and be perfectly still. I want to know who would come to see me, who would cry, who would apologize and for what. I want to know what music you would play at my funeral and what you would have engraved on my headstone. I want to know the pain of death and laugh because you never knew me. I want to know the pain and dig around until I can find the joy in it.

Here
by Paul Monetta

everything extraneous has burned away
this is how burning feels in the fall
of the final year not like leaves in a blue
October but as if the skin were a paper lantern
full of trapped moths beating their fired wings
and yet I can lie on this hill just above you
a foot beside where I will lie myself
soon soon and for all the wrack and blubber
feel still how we were warriors when the
merest morning sun in the garden was a
kingdom after Room 1010 war is not at all
death it turns out war is what little
thing you hold on to refugeed and far from home
oh sweetie will you please forgive me this
that every time I opened a box of anything
Glad Bags One-A-Days KINGSIZE was
the worst I'd think will you still be here
when the box is empty Rog Rog who will
play boy with me now that I bucket with tears
through it all when I'd cling beside you sobbing
you'd shrug it off with the quietest I'm still
here I have your watch in the top drawer
which I don't dare wear yet help me please
the boxes grocery home day after day
the junk that keeps men spotless but it doesn't
matter now how long they last or I
the day has taken you with it all
there is now is burning dark the only green
is up by the grave and this little thing
of telling the hill I'm here oh I'm here

I know that you are going to judge me. I would too, if I were you and you were me. But I am here now. Not where I want to be, but it's too late now. One bad decision does not justify another, and I want to make the right decisions from here on out. I will not take the easy way out just to cover up and make my life seem seamless. I will face my mistakes and not be ashamed.
Not matter what you say.
Because your words will not hurt me.
I have people who will support me, and even if I didn't, I have a God who has not abandoned me, and who never will. I pray that I can be a better person and not abandon Him.
This may not be the life I planned for, but I will make the best of it now.
I want this now, and I will do whatever it takes. Whatever I have to do. If it's just me, then that's all I will have to lean on and I will have to accept that.
Your words will not hurt me. I will not let you break me.

"with God as my witness, I will never be hungry again"

HURT: Ten Ton Brick

A ten ton brick was making me sick
Breakin' my bones with the weight of it
The weight would grow with each new soul
Buried fine lies make big, black holes
And who am i supposed to be?
Not like you'd give a fuck about me.
But who am I supposedly?
When I'm finally done.
But I'm finally done with the decisions of my former thoughts
And all that i may have loved
Yeah, i'm finally done with the descriptional
And i don't mind sayin' i'm to blame!
When atlas slipped i lost my grip
Yet, i didn't think it could turn into this
But i was told by two sweet crows
Nobody feels what nobody knows
And who am i supposed to be?
Everything good was taken from me
And who am i supposedly?
I was overcome...
But i'm finally done with the divisions of my former thoughts
Although i may have lost
I'm finally done with the dissention now i don't mind sayin'
I don't mind sayin i'm to blame!
Oh, this ten ton brick would treat me like shit
This little piggy licked others lips
And so defined, who was i
But it won't encumber me.
'cause i'm finally done with the positions of my former thoughts
And all that it may have cost
But i'm finally done with my decisions
Love and now i don't mind sayin'
Don't mind sayin'

I am the one to blame.

Untilted

I like the words you say when you lie to me.
When you tell me that I am wrong,
that my faith holds no meaning,
that I will be good without it.
I am nothing.
If you open your eyes,
you will see.
Open your heart to the possibility,
the fact,
that I am so un-perfect.
Stop feeding the denial in your heart.
Stop believeing what is easy and for once,
entertain the idea that that life does not make sense,
that good is not always the triumphant,
and only death and failure
are certain.

by Kate Caretto

Let me ask you this- Is it worth it to wait for perfect? Is there such a thing? Will I ever find it?

What is ok to compromise on? I don't think I can compromise on what makes me who I am. My passions, my desires, my dreams, my religion; should I expect him to believe in and care about these things, or is it enough for him to tolerate?

And when everyone says that I deserve better, do I forfiet what is "good enough" to search for something better? Is it possible to find someone better?

I don't believe in perfection, I don't believe in human goodness, in the goodness of human nature. Do not tell me that my God is not sufficient, or that He asks too much of me. Do not tell me that I give too much to my God, or that I should ignore the wisdom of my God. Do not tell me where to find happimess, or where I will find fullfillment, or that you are the answer to all my problems. My problems are beyond you, because you do not understand my struggles, my insecurities, my depression. When I try to voice my heart, I am shot down by the storm of your own heart.

You have to love yourself if you ever want to love me.
You have to realize that this is not just about you,
not just about your feelings.
And if this is about eternity...
Fuck that shit.

and it pisses me off beyond belief that you will not even care enough to read this

one more thing to say-

hillary better not win

Why is it that we care so much? What makes people become in-tune with the feelings of others and have it affect us? Sometimes these feelings and emotions of others can completely take over our own emotions that result from inside ourselves. Is it good to be this concerned about others? There must come a point where it will wear a person down, but this point must come at different times for different people. Can emotional overload be compared to a glass that overflows? How much will our concerns help the target person?
And it seems like we never notice when someone cares about us. It's not like money, that can be passed between individuals as payment or a measure of worth. It is invisible, sometimes tradgically unfelt.
And then there is the point of numbness, when we no longer feel the same in response to another's pain. Where it has become an everyday occurance, or a way of life that no longer fights for our attention. When the feelings are so common and familiar.
And the same is true for the reciever of concern, when the support and care is not enough to block out the feelings anymore. The drug has become ineffective, the drink not strong enough.

There must come a point where I really don't care anymore. Where I no longer care what other people stress about, because it makes me stress out too. When I know that there really is nothing I can do. When I know to let go. To stop caring because I know it will just hurt me. When I can stand up for myself and not be brought down by guilt and feelings of failure.

How much personal feelings does the world need? Is it possible to run the world without social capital, without integrity, without debts except for those in concrete froms of measure, without love..., without trust, without sense of family or friendship, or if they exist, that they have no effect on how the world turns, without empathy or sympathy? If we say the world turns on money, there is no reason for values such as these. And it seems that people are losing the values that are not essential to life. (But what about quality of life, you ask, and they will answer; I just need a few more dollars) The road may be paved in gold, but what worth is the journey when there are no flowers (and I don't mean silk flowers) along the roadside? Where will your road of gold lead you?

The Offspring: Gone Away

Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can‘t deal it‘s so unfair
And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven‘s so far away
And it feels
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you‘ve gone away
Leaving flowers on your grave
Show that I still care
But black roses and Hail Mary‘s
Can‘t bring back what‘s taken from me
I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would
And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven‘s so far away
And it stings
Yeah it stings now
The world is so cold
Now that you‘ve gone away

I can not believe how much my life has changed, and I keep wondering if I am the only one who notices this. Am I just spinning in one place inside of myself or do others see that I am not stationary? I am in need of good literature and time to read it. I am in need of something longer, for sure, and tangible. I am in need of no worries and I life that I can live for everyone the same. I am in need of something that will let the words form beyond the recognition of my own brain and allow me to speak them to you in all honesty and freedom.

How do I know of turning points in my life? Should I accept such sweet invitations, or are they merely sugar coated? Is there more growing up to do? When do I recognize these things and if they are true and right? The biggest problem is knowing who to believe. Deciding who is the person to follow who will lead you to the straight path. Why must people insist on what you should do if they are only looking out for themselves? Does anyone really know someone well enought to be telling them how to live their lives?

I don't think it is wrong to make choices and sacrifices in your life to better the life of someone else. I believe it is admirable to give in order for others to recieve, to not be selfish and to think of others before yourself. What I want really holds no meaning in my life. Fulfilling my desires and dreams will not make me a better person.

What is desire? What is good desire and should it be sought/satisfied?

Do certain things have meaning if you yourself do not place meaning on them?

WHY CAN'T YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING????

Traits of creative people:
1. wonder and be curious
2. be open to new experiences
3. see the familiar from an unfamiliar point of view
4. take advantage of accidental events
5. make one thing out of another by shifting its function
6. generalize from particulars in order to see broad applications
7. synthesize, integrate, find order in disorder
8. be in touch with one’s unconscious, yet be intensely conscious
9. be able to analyze and evaluate
10. know oneself, have the courage to be oneself in the face of opposition
11. be willing to take risks
12. be persistent: to work for long periods-perhaps years-in pursuit of a goal

Why?

Because I saw a part of me in you,
I part of me that I wanted to
protect and understand.
Because I wanted to please you
in every way.
I wanted for (you) to be happy;
to not hurt anymore.
Because I wanted you to love me
completely,
and more.

Because it just didn't matter anymore.
Nothing really matters anymore.

Caroline's Spine: Unreal
for Jon

I've come to feel when you're constantly changing roads
it's hard to know which way is right.
It gets a bit colder when you're down ten feet below
with no conclusions
no end in sight.
So I hold this:
we don't ever walk alone.
You can't stay here on your own.
And I know you are
the only one who can make it right
when it isn't right.
And I know you are
the only one still preoccupied
with all your "if I did" and "maybe she might."
You beg and you borrow
like some ordinary soul.
There's nothing to see here tonight.
Until tomorrow,
after all your cameos,
there's nothing to see here.
And I know this:
we don't ever walk alone.
You can't stay here.
And I know you are
the only one who will make it right
when it isn't right.
And I know you are
the only one still preoccupied
with all your "if I did" and "maybe she might."
Life is so unreal.

Static

Black as rum, white on top,
tan for you, in a double shot.
A hammer for a fly,
a fox on the sly.
Stop, drop and roll,
red handle, waiting for you to pull.
Steel guitar, dead baby in a cradle,
comfort ma; tell her a fable.
Click, click, clack, snap,
popcorn for a midnight snack.
Junie B. Jones has no home,
E.T. must call, but has no phone.
Lipstick on a collar, wine on a cuff,
heart-shaped box holds no more love.
Bermuda triangle, a honeymoon dream,
early morning coffee, milk the cow for cream.
Bullitts in the fire,
shoulda shot higher.
Shine from a diamond, dull as a knife,
sacrifice all that glitters, for the golden life.

By Kate Gubert

http://mintypics.com/Hurt%2010-4-07.html

Today is the day you took her away
and hid her in a glass sphere.
Lavender and honey consumed
as you examined her willingness.
Tassels and pom-poms shredded,
the confetti falling to the sky.
Turkish ashes smolder on painted toes.
Enter her mind through your eyes.

by Kate Gubert

Compliments:

http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG

Will my death be painless?

I wonder...

as I lie here in anguish,

twisting and writhing

in the most unexplainable emotional pain.

To believe that there will be no beginning.

Seduced by those eyes...

those piercing, honest eyes.

(Where did you learn to look at someone like that?)

And though I wish I could,

I know that I do not know what is behind those eyes.

I take solace in the knowledge that

I fell in love with your music first...

the lyrics that speak of my heart's desires

(though I am sure that I am not the only one.)

The vocals that never grow tiring,

that never cease to make me cry,

words that heal and break.

Yet I cannot stop listening.

And I cannot stop the thoughts of you,

the glance of your eyes and

the melody of your voice,

and how my words are not enough.

Is this the hope that will be lost?

lost before it has even begun?

To know that these pains mean nothing more than feelings,

that feelings are nothing more than emotion,

to somehow forget...

To know that your love will never be mine...

is my hurt.

Truth is...
I'm scared of making another hopeless attempt.
I'm afraid that I will fail, after investing all my strength.
I don't want an ending, so I will never begin.

Truth is...
I try not to be pessimistic,
and I can't be optimistic,
So I must be a realist, as it goes.
And I must be crazy too.

Truth is...
I can live without you.
I can do anything on my own,
But I really,
Really,

...

I found some places I'll have to check out. Turns out I coulda seen Hurt without driving to Flint. But oh well. I kinda miss that place. And it was cheaper for a ticket.

http://www.sectionlive.com/

http://www.orbitroom.com/

Maybe I should rephrase that... Who is John Galt to you?

To me, I know who he is even though I haven't finished the book (yet).

But I could (and will) just as easily ask: who is Tom Buchanan to you?

To me, he is careless, soul-less, bruteish, despicable, self-interested, and absolutly vital to the story (whether that story be the Great Gatsby or life).

I guess, do you really think of characters in books as real people or as representations of groups of people? people you know? you? depends on the book?

Who is your favorite character? why? are they representational of someone/something?

Or maybe it is just in the asking that our question is answered by a void of an answer. Maybe there is no John Galt to you. Maybe he does not mean anything to you. Just as asking why some people are the way they are. There is no answer that would be correct. Who are you, or I, to know who John Galt is. Even in a book where someone has created him, even she may not even know who he is entirely. Maybe it is best if we do not know. Maybe it is best if all we do is ask questions, even if we don't get answers.

I think the best questions are those without answers.

I feel like posting something. I don't really know what to say because I don't have my journal in front of me. Isn't that sad? I cannot think about my own thoughts unless I can read them from a book. Well, for one thing, school is going well. Classes are fun. Biology is my favorite, but math is ok (just kinda feels like high school), Government and Politics is good for me (yea! I read The Nation The National Review and U.S. N&WR), and Art is really fun. We made mobiles yesterday from sticks and coathangers and wire and nuts and bolts and cardboard. I am thinking about walking downtown, except I don't really know if I want to walk through those neighborhoods to get to it, or if it is too long of a walk. Maybe I can figure out the bus schedule. Words of Wisdom for the day: Steak & Shake does not know how to make malts. Other mile markers on my calender: I am going to the Machine Shop and I am going to Chicago and I am going to Maine. Oh yeah! And I need more chocolate. Don't ever get put in Hruby. I am in the dorm for mentally unstable, gay, and antisocial persons. And those are only the ones I've met. The world is a scary place inside this little jail. I need chocolate. Wait, I already said that. Ok, we're on a mission for chocolate...


Who is John Galt?


Should I dye my hair black?

Oh sweet cheese. Hurt is coming to the Shop!

"This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amending it, or exercise their revolutionary right to overthrow it."
Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

A Sad Child

You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need sleep.

Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or a pet.
Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and ice cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favourite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you're trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,

and the flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside your head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are.

-Margaret Atwood

I'm listening to Janet Dailey on tape. What is the world coming to? I'm sure I'll be committed any day now. They will lock me in a little room and feed me little white pills and ask me if I was deprived as a child.

I am also consumed by Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. Ooo, I might have another favorite author. Is it bad that my "to read" list grows more than my "read" list? I hope not. I hope I can read a lot this fall.

I'm so lucky to have a dorm room to myself. I will get posters that put a smile on my face and I will bring my useless green lamp and rent a fridge that will keep my Ben and Jerry's cold just long enough. I will stock up on Slim Fast wanna be diet stuff and post pictures all over to remind myself that I still have a friend.

Maybe they won't lock me up after all.

Maybe I can put on a mask long enough so that they will never know...

i wonder if anyone really notices or are the ideas and fantasies in my consciousness are merely my own i wounder if anyone really knows that i love them or that i have the ability to love them but my own fear is the only thing that holds me back i wonder if i will ever be able to let go of this fear and let the world break my heart i wonder if i ever will fly to the top of the world or if i was never destined to do so i wonder if somehow i missed my opportunity the opportunity to die the opportunity to love the opportunity to be the kind of person worth love the person that i want to be and that i imagine everyone else wants me to be I SAW YOUR SOUL LAST NIGHT ILLUMINATED BY THE MOONLIGHT AND CAUGHT IN A WATER BOTTLE HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL WHEN YOU WERE SEEN IN SUCH A LOW PLACE DO YOU FEEL LIKE ME DO YOU WANT TO DIE BEFORE ME WOULD YOU LET ME LOVE YOU WOULD YOU MAKE ME DISAPPEAR

Chris Isaak/ Frequency 54: Wicked Game

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I knew somebody like you.

No, I don't want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I don't want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)

What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,

I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you no,

No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I... (This world is only gonna break your heart)
(This world is only gonna break your heart)

Nobody loves no one.

It's sad how true this is; THIS WORLD WILL ONLY BREAK YOUR HEART.
I know I want to fall in love.
I know I don't want to fall in love.
Do I have control over that?
It' crazy what foolish people do.
It's amazing how many foolish people there are.

UPO: Godless

I'm checking into leaving, yeah I'm folding
I'm tired of breaking down
And shaking this life around
I'm tired of praying, yeah I'm tired of trying myself
I'm tired of being taken all the way

And I don't need to be godless, but I am
I don't need my head keeping all my problems
And I don't need your hand of god, yeah
I don't need to say I'm godless
With nowhere to fall, yeah I'm all ready to fall

Day by day I'm like a paper puppet
And I'm stumbling 'round
I'm aching on my brain
And I'm in, big trouble, big trouble
I still gotta breathe, oh yeah
Like my shame this will all go down
God damned me that's for sure and I believe
I believe I don't belong here

And I don't need to get my head kicked in
And I don't need to be another lost soul
Who can't find home
And I don't need to get my face dragged down in the muddy water
And I don't need to say I'm godless anymore, yeah, not anymore

Still I'm gone
Still I'm on the run
Still I'm on the break of the edge
Still I'm, still I'm feeling dead

And I don't need to be godless, but I am
And I don't need to be another lost soul
Who can't find home
And I don't need your hand of god, yeah
And I don't need say I'm godless anymore, anymore yeah

Wisdom

You spoke to me.
You spoke words reflecting the wisdom of your heart.
Your wisdom preached of good and fulsome aspirations.
I spread my cracked and feeble wings in a vain attempt at flight. The desire to flee the cage of promises veiled the dangers beyond. I walked from your inadequate words of comfort. I closed my eyes to your invisible existence. Your wisdom fell in fragments. They broke out of context as they fell to the concrete. Meaning abandoned them and heedance fled with me. I hesitated, before I stepped into the sky, wondering if I should turn to apologize. You were crying as you gathered the syllables and attempted to throw them after me. But I didn't look back.
Your words held no recompense for your imprecation.

Kate Caretto

Red: Breathe Into Me

And this is how it feels when I ignore the words you spoke to me
And this is where I lose myself when I keep running away from you
And this is who I am when, when I don't know myself anymore
And this is what I choose when it's all left up to me

Breathe your life into me
I can feel you
I'm falling, falling faster
Breathe your life into me
I still need you
I'm falling, falling
Breathe into me
Breathe into me

And this is how it looks when I am standing on the edge
And this is how I break apart when I finally hit the ground
And this is how it hurts when I pretend I don't feel any pain
And this is how I disappear when I throw myself away

It really should be easier to take a steady picture.

Why do we hold up our heroes only to watch them fall again and a again with tears running down our chins?
We continue to grasp for someone to hold onto and we only succeed in pulling them down with us.

This kind of thinking (could do us in)

There must be something special about people who like blue ink. Are we blue in our moods too? Are we more philosophical? Educated? Intuitive? Or are we merely in denial of our human tendency towards black ink? And about those people who use gel pens, and pens of different colors. What about those multicolored pens that have receded to the dusty racks in souvenir shops? I have pity, also, for the forgotten pencil. It really does stick around longer in the ending. It can be erased at will; conformed to the changing mind of the artist. Oh, and paintbrushes, for those painters. But I will continue to ignore the fact that painters exist. They can do what I can not-to draw an emotion and a feeling and a world and convey it perfectly-or imperfectly-on a flat surface. I bow to you, dear artists of the colors and shapes. I am infidel to you, as one who can only form the same letters and words and sentences over and over again. I work in vain. This could do me in.

Oblivion.

I want oblivion.

Straylight Run: Existentialism on...

By Kate Gubert

"When the sun came up, we were sleeping in,
sunk inside of blankets, sprawled across the bed."

When the sun came up, you were sleeping with your arm flung across my sunken belly. I was cold and kept awake by the stench of vomit.

"And we were dreaming. There are moments when I know it. And the world revolves around us."

The dream somehow escaped me; and knowledge and feeling rose from me as an essence from my being. I revolved around you and hid my bruises.

"And we're keeping it, keeping it all going.. this delicate balance. Vulnerable. All knowing."

Somewhere between when I pushed you away and when I called you back you misunderstood my apology. You tore down the walls of my Almighty and sucked my remains through a straw.

"(Sing like you think no one's listening.)"

You opened the curtains and let the light of a thousand eyes burn through my parched skin. You laughed at my appearance...and went back to sleep.

"We're glad for what we've got.
Done with what we've lost.
Our whole lives laid out right in front of..."

You were satisfied with what you had taken from me: what I offered to you. Another soft drop on your lips as I looked at you; so sad and delicate.

"Sing me anything."

The Evolution of Pain

I want to show you.
I wanted to have you see me
exposed and without disclaimers.

I wanted you to understand,
to look at me with pellucid eyes;
offering your protection.

I wanted to explain my imperfections:
this one- anger
this one-fear
this one-abandon.

I wanted you to tell me
it was ok to be angry,
that you could calm my fear,
that you would never leave,
but you were already gone.

I never had the chance to show you-

this one I call pain.

by: Kate Gubert

Earshot: Someone

And if you could make up
For every single time you lied
I'd probably whisper this
Hello, goodbye
And so it begins again
Harder each and every time
I start to reminisce
I never seem to ever find

[chorus]
Someone I can trust
Someone I believe
Someone who will never try
To bring me to my knees
Someday I will find again
Someone just like me
Someone who will take the time
In understanding me

And if I could make up
For every single tear you cried
I'd probably never miss
Your hand in mine
I never could understand
Mistakes I repeat again
I've been through this so many times
I never seem to ever find

And I've stopped searching
To take my time
And to really clear my head
And I believe it was meant to be
And I feel it's time to go

And if you could make up
For every single time you lied
I'd probably whisper this
I never seem to ever find