April 17th, 2001

run the fuck away

(no subject)

Well, I know she's the only person that reads my journal, so this is somewhat... odd to put here, but what the hell, I should talk about this lovely little person.

She's Angeliz, i don't know her real name, and I don't care. I call her Lizzymuffins, Lizzybunnykins, or all variety of terms of endearment, it's just kinda fun to play. She's been doing a wonderful thing for me... asking alot of questions. I mean, she's working towards being a shrink, which of course is usually an abhorrent profession, but she knows the questions to ask, and that's really what it's about.

When you ask someone a question, they might surprise themselves with the answer. That's the idea. I've been surprising myself alot with my answers. I'm sure it infuriates her, because I know i'm unclear, and I'm contradictory, and sometimes downright... beffudling.

But she's really been doing a great thing for me. She's a good friend, a wonderful verbal sparring partner, and fun.

And she's... special.

Here's to potential my friends, we've all got it in gads, and none of us ever use all of it, but sometimes our interactions can do amazing things.

Remember friends... FREEDOM.

I love you all. For now, I'm comfortable with myself. It'll pass, always does, but for now, I can say that I'm happy with who I am, when i can look at it objectively, and see the beauty, not in the pure whiteness of being cleansed and "holy" or some crap, but the beauty that comes about from the interplay of light and dark.

Wabi is a concept that comes from the japanese. Basically, perfection is static and dead. A perfectly fired clay pot may have all of the best traits of being a clay pot, but being perfect, it lacks character. Wabi is the flaw in something that gives it character, and THAT'S true perfection. It's like the boy who refuses to give up his favorite pair of jeans, even though the knees, crotch and ass are worn through. He sees the wabi, the character in the flaws. The clay pot with a bubble in the glaze that makes it unique. Our scars, physical and emotional (i've got enough of both) are the wabi.

I've been rambling alot, but Liz, whether or not you read this...




Thank you.
run the fuck away

(no subject)

A hand reaches out,
Bent to pluck the flower from the stem,
Knowing that to own the beauty,
It must be destroyed,
Perhaps a wise hand would stay itself,
Perhaps a wise hand would not,
But the hand,
Never plucks the flower,
For the flower lives,
Rises up,
A butterfly between our eyes and the sun,
Color dancing and shadows falling,
Beauty is infinite.
  • Current Music
    Lit - Over My Head
run the fuck away

(no subject)

For a moment I'm going to type and not think at all... enjoy the twisted thoughts...

They come... they look they're me I am me and here we are and it goes it dies it smells I'm inside out with the things taht are the ones who be the ones who be the ones who be

What? Where is this? Close. This. door. I smell it. It's there can't you?

WHAT? I'm scared. Of what?

THAT.

The smeell is getting stronger. It's dark and dark and smelly and scary and dirty... it's dirty...

Pink floyd is playing.

CANT YOU HEAR IT!?

where are we?

I know exasctly where we are. Where the FUCK are we?

Deep inside we relax and let go and there it is... relax and let go you'll feel better... deep breath and the stress passes the stress passes...

The shrotest poem in history: "A". By A.A. Miline (get it? A.A.? No.. not funny.

Blah. There it is in me the pearl of wisdom is it? NOPE it's a turd. Where'd that come from? The thoughts bounce and flip and am I thinking? I think I'm thinking, which of course ruins the epxperiment... runins it bad. But maybe it doesn't. My eyes are closed at least. I don't see what I type. Hopefully the keyboard hasn't yet betrayed me.

Echo. It's an echo. Of what? HAthe spiders have talked... oh questions will be had of course I see it now. ARK!

+ENDRAND+
  • Current Music
    Lisa Loeb - Falling In Love
run the fuck away

(no subject)

Blee is my new word.

BLEE!

To quote a sage of our time... "blee is a happy good thing".

And it is. So when in doubt, or when overjoyed, or whenever you want to express happiness or become happy... BLEE!
  • Current Music
    Toadies - Paper Dress
run the fuck away

Forever

Forever. Far too mucking long.

I'm a very... INSTANT oriented person. I think of things in terms of the immediate advantage. Everything I do, I try to do because I enjoy the act of doing it, seperate from the end results (though the knowledge of end results can be really cool).

It works... mostly. I can't force myself to be foresightful. I've tried. I've tried the long term planning, and I've found that I'm just too changeable, and instead of trying to kill my chameleon personality and habits (which I think is a GOOD trait), I try and mold my life to fit the chaotic style in which I live it.

It doesn't work very well I've found. I like not having to agree with myself from one moment to the next. I don't see why this is a problem. Some people REALLY hate it though. I don't see why.

I cling to very few ideals, namely that FREEDOM is the highest ideal, and that some things directly aid freedom (information namely) are inherently good.

However... my chaotic lifestyle doesn't easily mesh into the standard life that most live. People think it wierd that I don't decide upon my evening activites till they arrive. This isn't to say I blow off comittment, if I say I'm gonna be someplace, I do everything I can to be there. But if I have a few choices to chose from (stay at home, medival dance practice, roleplaying) i won't choose till the last instant. Or more accurately, I won't COMMITT till the last instant. I may know which one I want well before hand, but I don't plan on that being what I want till the second of.

It's a killer on relationships, let me tell you. People have this funny thing about wanting stabilty, or at least the illusion of.

Screw that.

My music is changing my mood... yea Rage Against the Machine... (Killing in the Name)