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10 June 2005 03:16FUCK YOU LIVE JOURNAL FOR EATING A VERY THOUGHT PROVOKING ENTRY.
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10 June 2005
I feel guilty for not stopping by Jim and Denises abode this evening, although I told them I "might" stop by. Time had it's way with me, and before I knew it, it was midnight. Specially since the yahoo.msgr msg left was "WTF". These things happen. I still feel guilty about it though. Much like I feel guilty for not stopping by Kevin's or seeing/hearing from him this week. THe freedom has been fresh air for the soul, yet I still feel guilty.
Finally wrestled the aliens that had kidnaped![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
imyaj, took her to there planet to learn the fine art of Crocet and answers to the age old question of the meaning behind the meaning of the rose in the Phantom of the Opera Fiasco. And like 2 friends who havn't seen each other in ten years, we picked up right where we left off...at the very begining....
One of the main reasons why we clique is that we are in the same rut in this journy, adventure of life and the great beyond. Her-post divorce, me-recovered from the entire Kara time of my life. ANd like to great explorers walking through dark caverns, not knowing what lies ahead, we know when to take the load off and share the burden of carring the rusty barely lit lantern, that shines our way.....
Its been a fear of mine, for sometime, that she would don a red curly wig, become an accountant, and turn into her. Maybe that is why I've kept my distance at bay, not wanting to be thrown down from the very foundation I once found support and comfort and relyed on. But this fear has long been seen as a halucination of monsterous proportions, we are not paracites feeding off of each other for survival, like Kara and I were. Instead we know when each other is in need of conversation, a smoke-a visit, even if words are not part of the equation.
Part of this, primarly is our interest and facination by certian material objects we hold so dear-movies and of course the beloved written word of Paul Coehleo. Interesting enough this piece of art, this holy grail of soul searching was brought by two differn't wise men, from two differn't words, and yet the meaning still holds the same... its the journey-not the destination that makes the rollercoaster worth riding again and again....... and maybe that is why I'm being so frank, or others may see it as writting in code-once again--because I hope she reads these type-written words and finds some understanding in them......
Back in the day, I surrounded myself with the ancient relics of a lost civilization; cassette tapes. Those plastic retangular objects, filled with tape and sound, that are now obsolute. My fast collection filling the bins of Goodwill's throughout the country. Do I miss them so, specially the rare and out of print copy of "Breakin'-movie sountrack" that is now highly sought after. Of course the shells they left behind are now filled with memories and shiney new discs that are so much more versitile than the cassette ever was. Technology comming through...
Among my collection was a small repatraure of "10,000 Maniacs" Cassettes. During my R.E.M. crush, I moved over to them, latched on and seldom let go. Today in my brief thrifting I came across "Hope Chest" by the Maniacs. Its been years since I have heard those drums-the african jamican feel of the music. At a time when Natalie Merchant shadowed her thoughts and lyrics, a shy girl who once performed with her back to her audience, dancing in a vagabond skirt barefoot. Such excellent songs, that brought me back to those glaya days.
Driving to school in the hand-me-down 1976 Nova inherited by my Grandparents who only drove the vehicle to "Church" and "formal family events". The plush red seats, and the dimmer switch on the floorboard, the car shaking if you went over 75 miles/hour. Those songs, thrown on mixed cassette tapes, serinated me to my destination. I wonder what was playing when I took the Nova to Madison, staring the entire "theater camp fiasco" which led me to "comming" out to my parents. The music of that time that covered me like winter frost, warming me like a blanket, protecting me from the storm, that Enya song, in non-english format, I listened to as those snobby stars winked at me, causing grief as Rick drove my Dad and I from theater camp..... giving my comfort to not throw in the chips, and call it a day....
But its getting late, and already my recent stalker called me at 1:30 a.m.-I didn't bother answering the phone....
On the house improvement front, I started to dismantle the dinning room, and have started to paint the walls that have been preped to paint. Although at first I disliked the color, it grows on me like mold and warms the senses once fully dryed bringing the pigment to its glory.....
And maybe that isn't how the entry was supposed to go, thanks to LJ, but I am finding comfort in the words, hoping that this sacrifice to the LJ gods, isn't burned in effigy, but carved like Pompeii marble sculpture, to survive even the hotest of lava's......
Finally wrestled the aliens that had kidnaped
imyaj, took her to there planet to learn the fine art of Crocet and answers to the age old question of the meaning behind the meaning of the rose in the Phantom of the Opera Fiasco. And like 2 friends who havn't seen each other in ten years, we picked up right where we left off...at the very begining....One of the main reasons why we clique is that we are in the same rut in this journy, adventure of life and the great beyond. Her-post divorce, me-recovered from the entire Kara time of my life. ANd like to great explorers walking through dark caverns, not knowing what lies ahead, we know when to take the load off and share the burden of carring the rusty barely lit lantern, that shines our way.....
Its been a fear of mine, for sometime, that she would don a red curly wig, become an accountant, and turn into her. Maybe that is why I've kept my distance at bay, not wanting to be thrown down from the very foundation I once found support and comfort and relyed on. But this fear has long been seen as a halucination of monsterous proportions, we are not paracites feeding off of each other for survival, like Kara and I were. Instead we know when each other is in need of conversation, a smoke-a visit, even if words are not part of the equation.
Part of this, primarly is our interest and facination by certian material objects we hold so dear-movies and of course the beloved written word of Paul Coehleo. Interesting enough this piece of art, this holy grail of soul searching was brought by two differn't wise men, from two differn't words, and yet the meaning still holds the same... its the journey-not the destination that makes the rollercoaster worth riding again and again....... and maybe that is why I'm being so frank, or others may see it as writting in code-once again--because I hope she reads these type-written words and finds some understanding in them......
Back in the day, I surrounded myself with the ancient relics of a lost civilization; cassette tapes. Those plastic retangular objects, filled with tape and sound, that are now obsolute. My fast collection filling the bins of Goodwill's throughout the country. Do I miss them so, specially the rare and out of print copy of "Breakin'-movie sountrack" that is now highly sought after. Of course the shells they left behind are now filled with memories and shiney new discs that are so much more versitile than the cassette ever was. Technology comming through...
Among my collection was a small repatraure of "10,000 Maniacs" Cassettes. During my R.E.M. crush, I moved over to them, latched on and seldom let go. Today in my brief thrifting I came across "Hope Chest" by the Maniacs. Its been years since I have heard those drums-the african jamican feel of the music. At a time when Natalie Merchant shadowed her thoughts and lyrics, a shy girl who once performed with her back to her audience, dancing in a vagabond skirt barefoot. Such excellent songs, that brought me back to those glaya days.
Driving to school in the hand-me-down 1976 Nova inherited by my Grandparents who only drove the vehicle to "Church" and "formal family events". The plush red seats, and the dimmer switch on the floorboard, the car shaking if you went over 75 miles/hour. Those songs, thrown on mixed cassette tapes, serinated me to my destination. I wonder what was playing when I took the Nova to Madison, staring the entire "theater camp fiasco" which led me to "comming" out to my parents. The music of that time that covered me like winter frost, warming me like a blanket, protecting me from the storm, that Enya song, in non-english format, I listened to as those snobby stars winked at me, causing grief as Rick drove my Dad and I from theater camp..... giving my comfort to not throw in the chips, and call it a day....
But its getting late, and already my recent stalker called me at 1:30 a.m.-I didn't bother answering the phone....
On the house improvement front, I started to dismantle the dinning room, and have started to paint the walls that have been preped to paint. Although at first I disliked the color, it grows on me like mold and warms the senses once fully dryed bringing the pigment to its glory.....
And maybe that isn't how the entry was supposed to go, thanks to LJ, but I am finding comfort in the words, hoping that this sacrifice to the LJ gods, isn't burned in effigy, but carved like Pompeii marble sculpture, to survive even the hotest of lava's......
Photo update
10 June 2005 04:31Uploaded some photos for your enjoyment. THe dinning room renovation is going slicker than snot, and I couldn't be more happy.
Enclosed is also some photos of some ATC's, and an altered book page I am working on. Comments totally welcomed. Anyone who wants to trade ATC's, that would be excellent!
Also is a photo of the antique telephone i scored yesterday. It is already gutted, but I am going to use it, to hide my modern telephone to give the house a more "yesteryear" feel.
( Read more... )
Enclosed is also some photos of some ATC's, and an altered book page I am working on. Comments totally welcomed. Anyone who wants to trade ATC's, that would be excellent!
Also is a photo of the antique telephone i scored yesterday. It is already gutted, but I am going to use it, to hide my modern telephone to give the house a more "yesteryear" feel.
( Read more... )