| literally, uno, one, cornu, a horn |
[Dec. 2nd, 2008|12:43 am] |
| [ | Try |
| |  amused | ] |
Contrary to popular belief, the best place to start a anything might not be the "beginning". Some argue that the "end" is the best place to start- but let us put our sails to the wind and blow into the infinite middle.
Cara was soaking wet from the previous nights of peril. Three days of purple storms had transformed her modern t-shirt and jeans into a skin sucking suit of caked blood and mud. Hair, once sunshine yellow, was now dulled and matted from her days of turmoil and ecstasy in this land divided by extremes. Her pretty pink nail polish so perfectly placed was barely visible under the dirt and grim she had unwillingly collected. She was tired. She was hungry. She was worn. She was beautiful.
The beauty Cara possessed was not the modern kind transcending from girly-girl magazines and popular culture. Her skin held no enticing-exotic glow burned on by a coffin of lights, instead she wore each sun kissed freckle proudly. Her clothes did not reveal a story of high-fashioned trends and accessories beguiling and distracting from her natural appeal. A old red t-shirt and jeans were Caras glamour of choice. Her body was what it was. Nothing added. Nothing extracted. She was thirteen, and her beauty came from her innocence.
She held that purity close- and recalled the words she once read:
" one lie starts small, two will spread, and thereon consume you till you lie dead."
Her mother had always told her that lies rot the soul. Cara would never have believed they could literally do so until she witnessed it first hand with the passing of Eastfalling. The death of a unicorn is incomprehensible. As Cara played the cursed scene in her mind she took a moment. She stopped. Silence, but still a pulse.
Sometimes check yourself, make sure your alive. She repeated. It is hard to think that one can witness the presence of a unicorn and not be in a dream, or worse, dead. Even then, watching the pain and confusion in Eastfallings eyes as his veins blackened, she was not sure, she herself, was alive.
The lies do spread quietly.
But thankfully, Cara still held that one beauty.
Keeping her promise to God and her mother- not a single lie had falling from her lips. Young as she was.
She pressed on, knowing that the truth was out there, somewhere, a wandering unicorn. |
|
|
| dismissed. |
[Sep. 27th, 2008|03:21 am] |
| [ | Try |
| |  scared | ] |
my life a slow sonnet.
"we can't stop here, this is bat country."
i know
i know
i know.
dont you know i know!
im driving home. assumed to my all knowing that i will eat something. everything. if not reluctantly, nothing.
this is the least of my problems all foreseen by God.
the unfinished story of hunter s thompson belaying into the creation of gonzo journalism has left me.
fear.
loathing.
las vegas.
drugs, guns, knives, acidic acid of undivine consequences on the red woolen shirt of a johnny depp line.
so much excitement in this film. why didnt i see it years ago?
why tonight?
why did netflix send my request on this night?
why did i want to run on the treadmill?
the summer empties my home of all human presence.
i arrive alone.
i arrive.
there is a silence that urges me...
i confuse that urge to indulge.
pie.
cheese.
ice cream.
crackers.
potatoes.
carrots.
indecision hosts haste.
in haste i vomit.
then change my mind again-
this was not the proper decision of indecision.
im traveling to portland.
no.
not now.
when i wake up.
i decide to make the decision of sleep.
step lightly into my room.
the silence yet still.
i hear a noise.
then a scream.
waste. haste. what for the sake of taste. my senses flair.
i am on edge. apprehensive. alert.
searching for this noise of intrusive structure.
the silence and then subtle whispers.
someone's in your house
the words come hoarse and slow
someone's in your house
the lethargy and urgency blend.
seductive.
menacing.
someone's in your house.
this is incomprehensible. where are they.
i cant see them.
turn on all the lights. switch. flick. buzz. blare.
lights.
lights.
lights.
then...
soft glow
light.
the computer is humming- as i stir the drowsy mouse
still raspy.
someone's in your house.
i hit pause.
twenty-five minutes and twelve seconds into the last song.
a new found glory.
sticks and stones.
the story so far.
hidden track.
the hair on my arms relaxes to a forty-five degree angle.
why?
why?
i pray to God... if now is the time i tell him, so be it.
take me.
i stalk the dark hall. and continue to close the open doors around my house.
lights.
off.
off.
off.
God says: someone's in your house.
he breaks it easy. the perfect line in every chick-like-flick
-it's not you, it's me.
thanks God.
i have to go to portland in the morning.
now i lay me
down to sleep
i pray the Lord
my
soul to
keep.
if i should die
before
i wake, i pray the
Lord my soul
to
take.
weird noises creep around my ears- trying to fill in the gaps.
portland. |
|
|
| It's beginning to look a lot like christmas? |
[Dec. 13th, 2007|08:32 pm] |
begginning.
The Annual Christmas Atmospheric Celebration.
A fabulous get together consisting of people that wish they could see eachother for always- but seldom find there paths in life crossing as frequently as they first wished. Christ brings us together with the glorious bond of caring, gifting, and being ultimate peace renegades. Maybe this year we will bombard the neighborhoods with a raucous of carols. maybe not.
so, lets:
dance!
sing!
eat!
drink!
make merry!
and take pictures!
locale: tentativley megan rebers ranch house.
time: noon. till late pm or early am or late am or forever.
date: saturday, dec. 22nd (i requested work off)
please come.
i loveyou all |
|
|
| i love my life- even if im not always happy. |
[Oct. 14th, 2007|08:32 am] |
i just purchased the new timbaland cd (shock value), along with the new kanYe CD. (graduation)
and foofighters- on a whim.
i havnt bought a cd in like 7 years. weird. (not counting internet purchases with discount)
i am so appreciative of life. I feel blessed that god gave me a chance to experience this bit of confusion, excitement, worry, wonder, grief, and happiness.
i love the life im living- and i am pleased with the way its turning out. better or worse. |
|
|
| egyptian courting system |
[Sep. 18th, 2007|10:32 pm] |
fuck you.
theres nothing you can do to help, but just hold my hand.
why do i hopelessly believe anything anyone tells me?
i guess i expect the truth.
i guess i expect too much.
so fuck you.
for letting me lead you on, and letting me be led on.
and not existing.
i have built a tree house, where no one can see us, because its a you and me house.
but i dont want to be in it anymore. ill burn the fucking tree down.
and everyone will watch.
i gotta stop thinking the worlds about me.
it just disappoints me that when i want to make someone happy it all crumbles.
crumbles.
like crumbly things.
fuck your words.
right now they mean nothing to me. |
|
|
| with shane |
[Sep. 18th, 2007|10:18 pm] |
top bands to compete.
no order discretion
death cab for cutie
stars
the long winters
jim yoshii pile-up
the shins
modest mouse
bright eyes
matt pond PA
of montreal
the decemberists
the arcade fire
the blood brothers
the blow
brand new
cat power
eisley
the dismemberment plan
incubus
in ink please
the rapture
sufjan stevens
basically, i know one or more of their albums lyrics by heart.. and am willing to fall head over hells for each word they mutter. |
|
|
| egypt |
[Sep. 18th, 2007|08:23 pm] |
|
i hate boys. |
|
|
| collapsable |
[Sep. 4th, 2007|07:11 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| |  confiscated but safe | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | library hum and child talk | ] |
images. i need them.
how to be creative?
just start. |
|
|
| interaction. deadly. |
[Aug. 28th, 2007|08:22 pm] |
half fed, half mast, a half brush of the calf.
dead cells fall unnoticed.
thoughts flow through touch
ping
pong
ping
can you hear them as loud as i feel them?
can you feel them as loud as i hear them?
touch palm
touch face
touch past
and present tensed.
yet. |
|
|
| this. |
[Aug. 27th, 2007|09:42 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | rebers | ] |
| [ | Try |
| |  where are you? | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | conversation, of beer- of mouths... of missing. | ] |
is my life.
is my love.
is my fall.
is mine.
is my mistake.
is my decision.
is.
is.
is.
is.
is what i meant.
is what i mean.
is what i do.
is how i feel.
is what i say.
is different.
is collective.
is ordinary.
is a feeling.
is something else.
is everything.
is an emotion.
is a reaction.
is deliberate.
is intentional.
is just what i need.
is not good enough.
is a lie.
is a farce.
is a pervarication.
is insolence.
is just.
is.
is.
is.
is.
is.
is still mine.
isnt it? |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 30th, 2007|10:39 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| |  taken. | ] |
miscellaneous postage strewn packages sewn shut. glue. string. bits of prolific thought. excavated torn and shoved together into one massive heap of ignored memories.
tight precarious
rimmed and crouching deep
touch hand face cheek distrupt layer
and then...
scratch
surface?
again?
no, no, no - brightly wound in two's. i save this last piece for...
/////////////////\\\\\]]][[[[[||||||||||\\\\\\\\\///////// but not. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 30th, 2007|10:37 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| |  sewn | ] |
life has stopped briefly.
a moment on a flys back. swift. sound. carries.
me.
to go where? |
|
|
| aghhhh! |
[Apr. 24th, 2007|08:16 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| |  enraged | ] |
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from here to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
and I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms
And miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
and I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms
I picture you in the sun wondering what went wrong
And falling down on your knees asking for sympathy
And being caught in between all you wish for and all you seen
And trying to find anything you can feel that you can believe in
May gods love be with you
Always
May gods love be with you
I know I would apologize if I could see your eyes
cause when you showed me myself I became someone else
But I was caught in between all you wish for and all you need
I picture you fast asleep
A nightmare comes
You cant keep awake
May gods love be with you
Always
May gods love be with you
cause if I find
If I find my own way
How much will I find
If I find
If I find my own way
How much will I find
You
I dont know anymore
What its for
Im not even sure
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand
cause I been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe youre not even sure what its for
Any more than me
May gods love be with you
Always
May gods love be with you |
|
|
| addressed |
[Apr. 11th, 2007|07:21 pm] |
message.
tip top point.
calculating calculations
timing
timing
timing it.
rapture.
enraptured.
this make say think go be.
intrepid center- too small, too small
to scared
let me be the small parts
i want to be the small parts
the oscicles in the inner ear- and listening to the thoughts of thoughts
carry it- carry it- carry it
bring them in
go on, bring them here
my note says "feels sorry for"
my note says "feels sorry for"
am i feels sorry for?
but i am too small!
i am too small!
i am i am.
it true.
departed and captured- riging and crying...
wringing out
wrung.
to
to
to
to
to
to |
|
|
| skullcake |
[Mar. 22nd, 2007|04:17 pm] |
 [ Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<c/center>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.] <center><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v604/nae017/skullcake.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a><c/center> |
|
|
| she was me. |
[Mar. 8th, 2007|03:36 pm] |
shhh.. she said something.
it was hard to see her through the light.
it was hard to see her.
I- i didnt know or understand but these would be the last images i saw of her.
all the lies
the blatant disregard.
she smiled- her teeth shone bright like neatly stacked porcelian fabrications... all waiting their turn to speak...
all saying the same sugary sweet cavity song
repeat
repeat
prevaricate misinform mislead exagerate falsifiy deceive illude guile deciet ruse
she was - all this
she was. |
|
|
| so... it's come to this. |
[Mar. 8th, 2007|03:25 pm] |
gently knocking on the roots of your fingers
misplaced
i walk around mirrored in by the eyes of others
they stare
they stare
the marks represent
the trials
the errors
the wrongness.
a fault.
this is my face- yes.
this is what is going on inside.
breaking the skin-
through to the outside
to you.
breaking my whole
throughout to the inside
if i scar I know why.
if i heal
God is well. |
|
|
| to anyone about anything we take what we can get |
[Feb. 28th, 2007|10:08 pm] |
Soll i aus meim Hause raus
Soll i aus meim Hause nit raus?
Einen Schritt raus?
Lieber nit raus?
Hausenitraus-
Hauseraus
Hauseritraus
Hausenaus
Rauserauserauserause ...
which Max Knight has translated as follows:
Shall I dwell in my shell?
Shall I not dwell in my shell?
Dwell in shell?
Rather not dwell?
Shall I not dwell,
shall I dwell,
dwell in shell
shall I shell,
shall IshellIshallIshellIshallI... |
|
|
| subject matters. |
[Feb. 11th, 2007|01:07 pm] |
gentry eyes- tired and tried.
flattened.
faultered
faultering. |
|
|
| for those aware. |
[Dec. 24th, 2006|12:46 am] |
A Scott feature presents:
"A Not so Much Christmas Party- without the trimmings."
Come join me, and a few others as we explore this eve of eve that is christmas. We will examine it without gingerbread, candy canes, carols, cocao, presents, and everything else related.
What will take place is an excrusion through our thoughts and the past years of our lives... Along with copious amounts of music listening, dvd watching, and CD burning.
Bring snacks or drinks if you please.
Reccommended:
-favorite DVD's
-Favorite tunes
-blank cd's or magic sticks
-sleeping bags and clothes
YES! this is a sleep over! If you are drinking... get drunk and pass out... if you are not- I don't care! sleep in my domain!
please.
everyone is invited.
friends are advised but not required.
Start: 8:30pm
Finish: I want you out of my sight by 10:30 am at the latest. or i'm calling the cops.
contact: 206.498.9973 |
|
|
| dear journal (like kendra) |
[Dec. 21st, 2006|01:25 am] |
Dear journal- I am writing right now.
Dear everyone- i passed! 2.60!!! B, B, B-, C- YES!
Dear Kendra- I miss you. Play dough?
Dear shane- and X-New Year sound great!
Dear brittany- I love you! cookies?
Dear emma- life. love.
and all the dearest to everyone.
-im working.- |
|
|
| glor... glorious |
[Dec. 13th, 2006|11:31 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| | toodling | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | angels of light- praise your name | ] |
ah friendship...
i love talking to people when your lives are so similar but you took different paths at the turning point.
at least someone is happy with where they are at.
im not coming home until friday-
dear to my heart right now:
micah fancher
joe luff
shane long
jana lindsey
christina Mcoughla (sp)
gina mcdonald
kendra obom
brittany hanson
kayla murchison
i miss life. |
|
|
| december carries... |
[Dec. 13th, 2006|02:55 am] |
oh the magic i find in simple pill form.
today was grand i got many a thing done... except for my script.
i took the kzuu ads to be put in the bus system (i am a genius)
i looked at the animal shelter- just to look
i phoned a friend
got someone to pay for half my trip home (gas money) by coming with me...
got my check form bella dolci
and experienced a great time with the classic peanutbutter and jelly sandwich.
STORY:
Christina and I went to the Brused Books- after having a good look in the all-time favorite childrens section we made our decisions. I bought Redwall, Martin the Warrior, and we both left with a copy of The Island of the Blue Dolphins (just for good measure). we then walked the three miles back to my truck thinking about what to eat. We both decided on an elegant pb & j. So we went to the only place we knew that made them: hillside. Alas- we were wrong. The discontinued making pb & j - and now it is just a tale of yorn. So- we bought the components of which to make a gorgeous sandwich with. Bread, Peanutbutter, and Jelly (today's was grape). we then had a discussion about how to make th best sandwich. I gave her my pointers about smooshing it in a book bag- or sitting on it. She told me that they work best with equal amounts of both peanutbutter and jelly- we took eachothers tips and had at it! We had to stop mid-making thouhg- because we had to run to the bank before it closed... so after we did that we fliped down my tailgate and sat in the bank parking lot. we had a pb & j tailgator and invited all passerbyers to join... sadly- no one graced us with their presence. After eating one sandwich each- we made an executive decision that it would be wise to make yet another and spit it between the two of us. This sandwhich had to be the BEST! We did everything we could to make this sandwich smooshiegoodiest. I was in charge of jam- christina in charge of peanutbutter. We then slapped our hales togther and deposited the it in a baggy. i then allowed christina to forcefully throw the sandwhich at the ground. upon doing so the bag broke open and a little bit of our andwich touched the ground- no problem though- we then double bagged it- and came up with the idea of it being run over by a car... and of course i couldnt just back over it with my truck... ithat would be inappropriate- so we threw it in the middle of the street and hid behind some bushes to watch.... during this time the bank had closed... and the bank tellers were walking out... due to christina's and i's fit of laughter- we generated dirty and suspicious looks form the bankers. Finally: POP! a car had got the target! YES! we screamed excitedly and ran into the street to fetch it! We quickly thought- oh- the bankers probably think we idd something illegal... so we shut the tailgate and hurriedly got into the truck... just in time too- because i banker came out and started walking toward us... i just sat idle like nothing was wrong... as we drove away- we saw her look in the street for evidence... no im on the run from the law! i just hope she didnt get my license plate number- egh!
oh fun day! |
|
|
| For all... |
[Dec. 4th, 2006|02:57 am] |
Look at these. Give me major critisims (as constructively as possible)
what works
what doesn't
These are several ads for an introductary wine: Redwood Creek.
The new icon is this cute little cork deer.
what else could you see this deer do? that 21-30 year olds would enjoy (humorous/vulgar/racey/ridiculous)
Any ideas for tyhis deer... make something up- show me, tell me.
GO NUTS
GO WILD.
shane show this to your art friends. (if you can) |
|
|
| spin-me round again. |
[Nov. 26th, 2006|05:46 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | leaving | ] |
| [ | Try |
| | fermenting | ] |
where are we?
wh.at. the hell...
is go.in.g on?
the du.st has only.
just. begu.n. to form
crop-circles in the carpet.
sinking.
feeling.
spin-me round
aga.in.
and rub m.y eyes
this can't be happening.
wh.en. busy stre.e.ts amass with
people will start to
hold.
their. heads.
heavy.
hide and se.e.k.
trains and sew.in.g machi.n.es
all
those
years
they were. here.
first.
oil.y marks. ap.pear on walls
where pleasure mom.m.ents
hun.g
be.fore.
the. take.ov.er
the swee.pin.g
ins.en.sitivit.y
of this.
still. life.
hide and se.ek. tr.ai.ns and
sewing machines.
you won't catch me around here.
bl.oood and te.ars
they. were.
here.
first.
mmmm what d'ya say?
that you
only meant well?
well, of course you did
mmm what d'ya say?
that it's all
for the best?
well, of course it is.
mmm what d'ya say?
that it's just
what we ne.e.d-
you decided this
mmmm what d'ya say?
what did you say?
r.an.som. no.t.es ke.ep fall.ing out your mouth
mi.dsw.eet t.alk news.paper wo.rdcu.t outs
spe.ak. no. f.eel.ing
no
i don.'t be.lie.ve you.
yo.u do.n't care a. bit
you don't ca.re a bit. |
|
|
| left by many. |
[Nov. 21st, 2006|03:55 am] |
count. count. count.
its this choking sound.
this sound.
these stinging salty eyes.
all puffy. all swollen.
this acidic smell.
this acid.
these tears tearing streams.
lifting up dresses.
skinny legs.
for show.
white ruffles, acid.
choking buttons to the top.
stockings crying.
leaping.
joying.
salty hands and stinging shoes.
puffy hair. all frizzy.
choking.
drying.
swollen eyes.
this is my stocking stop.
my crazy urge to heat things up.
choking drowning swollen smelling
acidic
style.
pressure.
and failing. |
|
|
| look at everything. |
[Oct. 27th, 2006|05:03 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| | not only | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | brand new | ] |
 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 15th, 2006|12:05 am] |
my my my- how my confidence crumbles when it see's some one is looking at it.
What? Who? Me? -oh no no no... i am not confident... see
you must be mistaken.
watch me fall- what i do best.
compliments. I do enjoy them- but I do not.
I abhor when someone refers to me as hot.
or beautiful.
or gorgeous.
or nice breasts.
i am not a body... i am not something to look at for pleasure.
i am a being. a soul. a secret.
something you must dig to find.
and i won't tell you either.
id rather you call me- amazing- and with an attractive personality.
and fun. and interesting. and everything i beleive myself to be.
not what i don't.
not what i am not. |
|
|
| no change- I deny |
[Oct. 9th, 2006|09:51 am] |
I dont know about happiness....
my words tangle past my teeth and search their way out of my mouth- vibrations finding someone hopefully deserving.
is this happy
and this?
his may be just confidence building in the corner of my eye. my comfort levels cease.
and i despise you that shorened my length of rope after these years.
but confessions from probing finders never resided in me.
and i lay a lack.
go to sleep now you little ugly. go to sleep now- you little fool.
if you dont know what you want its harder to gt at.
laws of attraction.
and refrshing.
stale stale state of bones
friviloty disguise and gaudy thoughs
my mind stuck in this glass jar
compressed
a boy
a boy
a tatle tale
my fairy fingers do obstain
and i but watch as nerves give in
and mind is slowky taken
you smile, talk, and lead me into
this ideal unwanted fall
and i succumb to bitter rinds of your tone
lead
lead
lead
on
where is my want- where is my need- ill stop looking for hopes they find me
NOTE:: if you want a letter give me your adress::: |
|
|
| a little church mouse |
[Sep. 15th, 2006|01:14 am] |
does he know your gonna save me
how can you know and not be crazy... |
|
|
| so little for so long |
[Sep. 4th, 2006|07:17 pm] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | dashboard | ] |
and were drowning you out-
the things that are keeping you here are not keeping me here.
how can one be so sad to be.
"you are not everyone. everyone is you."
-i am not everyone, but everyone is me.
my view- i am not kendra, i am not laura, i am not kaylin, i am not brittani, i am not jesse... but kendra is me, laura is me, kaylin is me, all these people are me. parts i dont practice parts i dont show parts i wish werent there but are me.
we relate to the world as ourselves as us. i am not these people, but they are every existing part of me.
i am masterful.
depress.
feel a little sorry sometimes,
and reach back for my past. and dwell. and sadden. and rot.
and dream it all over again.
and just want to be alone |
|
|
| tuition. USC |
[Aug. 21st, 2006|10:09 am] |
| [ | Try |
| |  accomplished | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | ten in the sweat jar | ] |
this is the joy that was my film class.
in oder from left to right of heads that you see:
Jen Rice- creative extrodinare
Rose Surnow- executive know it all and better than you status
Phil Messina- Professor and master director of "friends like these" and "SKEZAG"
Owen David Brugellies- or Creme Brujae, the french man of film
Chris Burns- know it all film geek TA
Paul- Im from texas and jewish, great simple films.
Ryan Williams- Comedic Entreprenuer wait, theres a twist
Fernando Ramirez- The never ending story. He will make it and succeed. My Columbian lover.
Tom D- 33year old sweet hearted films but strange disposition
Me.- my mouth open and gaping
Nick- my British lover, he smokes alot, but has a great sense of film.
Brian Oh- using my techniques to make his film better.
HAHA
oh the film that is school. |
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| well she's gorgeous, I'll take her |
[Jul. 31st, 2006|11:59 pm] |
im going to miss these people that make me laugh.
make me smile.
make me feel unique.
im going to miss these kissable urges.
these accents and mysteries.
these bonds built only to last six weeks.
and i feel like no one cares.
no one will trade addresses.
we will all just part.
and all these people ive lived with. i will never see again.
maps out.
the moments ive had.
the sexual tension i built.
the situtations ive created.
i want it all. and know i will get nothing. |
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| why is raven like a writing desk |
[Jul. 23rd, 2006|12:45 am] |
the needle skips/
life is not free
i dreamt that i kissed you
i dreamt that i kissed you- and then let you go
i dont think its sad
i dont think its anything
but i promise to,
and i never do
i said i love you
i said i loved you |
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| main mast to |
[Jul. 20th, 2006|12:14 am] |
a compliment to complain.
and unaware i walk into a room.
a perception that my piece had no story.
had no plot. No
I laid a bed of music. a big NO
and i thought i would get an ear full of critiques.
no.
they said i hit it out of the park.
one said oprah would love to have this on her show.
i didnt know where to grab- who to watch- what to say- how to react
i caught a piece of human life- a lie- a mistake
a reality.
and i acted.
sometimes what you put in is what you get out. it not that way for me. i put in merely a fragment and turn it epic. but i don't i guess i pain stakingly put all of my effort into a single piece, without realizing it. i dont know- maybe i just go- and it works. i hated it - i want it to burn. the class loved it. my prof. wants a copy. i got no, none, zilch, zero, suggestions/criticisms. that has never happened in class before. i feel good. but not at all.
[one issue was getting a prop knife, but i dont care... i didnt want to get a permit- and had no idea it would turn out this way.]
story makes a good film.
acting makes a good film.
truth makes it unbelievable.
and i want to destroy it all. |
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| California Mud |
[Jul. 13th, 2006|04:10 pm] |
| [ | Try |
| | ttired | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | deaf | ] |
A perilous task on hand at entry level. my skin hates this chemical.
here's to a nice cold glass of pool water.
the feeling of 6 am blunders in like a large waddling man from work.
sweaty irratated and obese.
the image makes me sick. the time makes me sick.
as a director i have never taken a full 12 hours to shoot. a. six. minute. film.
i refuse to put anyone through that.
precision.
consice.
point.
five inches my hair burned off. by a freakin curling iron.
i hate makeup.
this california dream has left its nest. as a director i would expect more control and professionalism.
my highlights of this dog beaten shoot:
[i saw a food place called: donuts & chinese food]
[i drove through the ghetto and am alive]
[i wore too much makeup and looked ridiculous]
[i acted well]
[i am going to get fresh squeezed juice now]
at least i slept until 3 thirty, so it was like a full 8 hours of rest.
My dream last night:
driving to usc from the airport with my mom. we go the wrong way. and are confroted with a bumm maving a gun, and everyone in the cars ducking. we turn the corner. park the car. get out. and try to climb up a hill to get to university. we fail go back and i get quarters for parking.
in usc i eat a good sanwhich. but usc is like high class. and in outerspace. i hope on an eleiptacal trainer and work at in the dinning and entertainment hall. i see mego and she joins me. i see alan at another eliptical and avert my eyes. i meet a friend, her name is muffin. she tells me not to laugh. i forget her name and thin it is tonya, then i think i forgot it again and thought she was tiffany basket. but she reminds me her names is muffin basket. alan comes up to me and gives me his jouranl with the sild things. thinking it was mine i asked him where he found it. he said he had been writting in it for 2 years, and wants me to have it. the whole structure collapses, muffin and i.
awawke. |
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| self made |
[Jul. 10th, 2006|12:01 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | california greets | ] |
| [ | Try |
| | good night lover, good night | ] |
| [ | Preservatives Added |
| | songs: ohi | ] |
eyes gentry tired, sagging with makeup makedown makebetter.
drop 20 lbs get a skin lift, get a life lift
act her turn your head
now smile like your happy
don't look so sad
walk down the steps... ok again.
hold the watch closer... steady.
thinking action through.
i look hideous, obvious to you
how selfless for time to conclude. |
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