Do you know me?

Friday, May 28, 2004

not much to it

So...in a matter of days my high school years will be left behind me. *sigh* The only thing I'm nervous about, I think, are those stairs coming down the aisles (it takes me at least three tries to spell that word right...ideally) in the Masonic. It was pretty scary climbing them in tennis shoes, and the dress shoes I bought don't feel as though they'd stop me from barreling down into the orchestra below. And it's not as though that'd be worth any laughs, cause I'm the second person to come down those stairs. Of course I'd crush Stephanie Jones on impact and then I'd have to sit on stage the whole time with the horrible weight of knowing that I'd killed our salutatorian...and that's the best case scenario. But I'm sure this has run through everyone's mind standing at the top of those stairs and squinting down at the tiny people in the audience below....I actually am afraid of heights.

I took a nap today. and though I haven't quite rid myself of the headache I was trying to sleep off, it felt good. I haven't napped in...well, at least 6 months, which is a shame. I'm still tired.

...

the prospect of sleeping sounds good to me right now. *gets dragged away*

Posted at 10:28 pm by Mowce
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Monday, May 24, 2004

it's been awhile

I graduate tomorrow. I'm not feeling very much about it, in fact it seems as though its already happened. So tomorrow's my last day and I have no plans what so ever...I'm rather sick of having plans though. I don't have much of a weekend life...or life, as it is. bah, I wish I'd spent more time with my school friends. A lot of them I'm going to miss, some I won't care much to see again, but there are a lot I've grown up around, and I'll miss them.

I've been feeling like a dork lately. hehe, I'm not exactly sure what it is, I suppose it could be...tripping down the stairs today, painting like a recluse in the corner of the art room instead of talking to my friends, sitting around the house wasting hours on video games, reading Dear Abby...?

I hate Dear Abby...

Posted at 07:51 pm by Mowce
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Wednesday, January 07, 2004

my train of thought

Ah whatever... I guess I lost my own point.

I miss Sean..

Posted at 09:14 pm by Mowce
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Saturday, January 03, 2004

10:14

I know there was something I wanted...and so I'm chewing my nails. It's hard to deal with a craving you can't identify. I suppose this is one of those nights though, when some gut feeling has worked you up into knowing there has to be something to look forward to, yet at 10:33 it isn't hard to foresee disappointment. It might be because earlier on there was the chance of seeing his face today, and one craving would have been satisfied. Still itching me perhaps...

I met with many prospects of fufilling at least a small part of what I was looking for. We got out, thank god I left that house. We drove, we bought things, and at any other time I would have had to drag myself though it. But at soon as we returned home, that desperate exhuberance was gone. I watched a movie, then it ended. Someone called me, they hang up. I even waited half the day for a freaking soup to get done. Anything to interrupt my sitting here, at the computer, typing. It feels like the day after, when all I can accomplish is sitting, thinking, remembering. It feels pathetic.

m&ms just aren't working for me right now...

Posted at 10:58 pm by Mowce
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Tuesday, December 30, 2003

stupid oil pastel...

Stream of consciousness, here we go *cracks knuckles*

My pointer finger is really killing me, it feels bruised. I'd been working at Stivers for hours straight on my drawing of Tia, and all the blending of the pastels has injured me! *points* look what you've done, cram work! I hope I'll be able to make a few sketchy portraits. MICA told me they wanted to see "my range" ho HO!

ehhh...it hurts to type...

TOMORROW! tomorrow I shall be spending 12 hours with sean, ahh, lovely. I didn't realize it was tomorrow actually, I'd been thinking of new years day rather than the eve, so that was a pleasent realization.

I need to spray his gift, by the way, that which he doesn't know about...kekeke

I really don't know if I'm as adventurous as that enneagram test says I am. I think I'm more of a daydreamer than an actual adventurer. and I think I'm a romantic...at least when it comes to certain things. I love to see a golden spotlit future in a big city in a perfect apartment on a tree-lined street, and maybe a private park or two for sean and me. ah, but we've been over that before, haven't we, subconscious?

oh yes we have...

obviously my finger refuses to ache till I start typing...son of a...

I bought a few bunches of green onions, and I'm planning to make some chinese pancakes. how I adore them. Miss Tammy taught me how to make them I was told I was her best pupil, hehe, inflated ego there. I can never quite prevent them from falling apart though... but I'll inhale em anyhow. so I'm praising my own cooking *shrug*

Linda walked into the art room today with her face full of food, and it stretched in such a way that she looked just like a frog. I told her so. Spring back, her and I are running off to New York, where I shall spend probably all the money I have...which isn't much. We'll take trains, impede upon my uncle, maybe take a look at NYU, sight see, eat, spend our money, it'll be grand.

ahh, I was so tired this morning working at Stivers, I wanted nothing more than to collapse, preferably into Sean, curl up and go to sleep. It was very tempting...to leave an hour early...but I resisted, and remembered in only a day I'd be able to do just that (not leave an hour early...). Then of course I found out it was less than a day and how pleased I was, hehe :p

ah, my digit is aching, damn you oil pastels...they probably aren't meant to be blended anyway...

Posted at 04:24 pm by Mowce
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Sunday, November 23, 2003

Scanning the words

I honestly didn't expect much when my mom said I'd gotten a letter from the school of the art institute, but apparently I was repressing my hopes :) Next minute I'm talking to my aunt Karen on the phone and she tells me there are tears in her eyes. But something about that day seems a little surreal to me now, I'm thinking I should be a little more excited than I am...and yet my mom, who screamed when I announced my portfolio was approved, has now been saying, I don't think that school's for you. *sigh*

I'm only just realizing the amount of attention my orchids need, though it doesn't annoy me in the least, I really like taking care of them :)...except for the fish emulsion...euuhhh, nasty. I'm actually using a paper towel to pick up and open the bottle, hehe, and I feel kinda stupid about that. "you'll get used to it" my mom says...though I really don't think I'd want to get used to handling fish poop every week...*shudder*

hehe, what a gardener I'd be...

Night isn't very kind to me in winter. Physically, the cough I have now suddenly gets worse and my efforts to clear my airway of mucus keeps everyone up. Emotionally...I become so distracted...even as I try to distract myself from other distractions...I get distracted. I was sitting in the living room, lying over the arms of that large chair across from my drums (a position I've easily fallen asleep in). Madame Bovary had been in front of me for at least an hour and I couldn't find a spark of concentration within me. I was itchy, the arm of the chair was suddenly hard, my legs ached, the way my clothes wrinkled beneath me was bugging me...*sigh* and every two minutes I'd realize my eyes had just been scaning over the shapes of the words. even though I hate Emma's character, it was so easy to identify with her yearnings, her fickle unhappiness..and so I'd think as I read and wonder if that meant anything about me...hehe, picture me as I was when I was carving the veins in my cabbage teapot last year...every minute or so dropping my hands and sighing. I'm not a very efficient worker, I don't think :)...or maybe I have trouble harnessing the thoughts in my head...

I

daydream

all

the

time
.
.
.

*sigh* I could explain chromosomes, mitosis, meiosis, and the cause of trisomy 21 to you, but when it comes to these fruit flies and punnet's square (something taught in what? fifth grade?), I'm pretty clueless...at least I feel that way when I'm trying to identify males and females and brushing them into separate containers to be mated with white-eyed mutants...I'm just getting direction and executing it, every so often checking to make sure Allan and Stephanie also have no clue...biologie, c'est pas mal, mais je prefere tomber l'escalier...non, pas vraiment :p

actually I do prefer to fall down the stairs

Thanksgiving vacation in TWO DAYS!! *scream* hoo boy...I've been needing this...perhaps I'll go to the mall over the vacation for some long sleeved shirts *rubs chin* as I have none...hm...

Truthfully, none of this has been on my mind as much as Sean has. I guess I could be merely feeding on my freinds' sentiments about the "unfairness" of the situation, but that wouldn't be completely true...I'm finding this hard to bear...some days I can feel an aching, at other times I'm content throughout the day, but overall my missing him hasn't waned...hardly at all..still, I think expressing feeling this way could make him uncomfortable somehow. I don't want to disturb the contentment he may have.

I'll be as optimistic as I can, I guess :)

Posted at 08:17 pm by Mowce
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Thursday, November 06, 2003

Spoken by a Moor

I'le follow you, now purple villany;
Sit like Roab imperiall on my back,
That under thee I closer may contrive
My vengeance; foul deeds hid do sweetly thrive:
Mischeif erect thy throne and sit in state
Here, here upon this head; let fools fear fate.
Thus I defie my starrs, I care not I
How low I tumble down, so I mount high.

Old time I'le wait bare-headed at thy heels,
and be a foot-boy to thy winged hours;
They shall not tell one Minute out in sands,
But I'le set down the number, I'le stil wake,
And wast these bals of sight by tossing them,
In busy observations upon thee.
Sweet opportunity I'le bind my self
To thee in base apprentice-hood so long,
Till on thy naked scalp grown hair as thick
As mine: and all hands shal lay hold on thee,

If thou wilt lend me but thy rusty sithe,

To cut down all that stand within my wrongs,

And my revenge. Love dance in twenty formes

Upon my beauty, that this Spanish dame

May be bewitch'd, and doat, her armorous
flames
Shall blow up the old King. Consume his Sons,
And make all Spain a bonefire.
This Tragedie beeing acted hers does begin,
To shed a harlots blood can be no sin.

.....................................................

Oh for more work, more souls to post to hell;
that I might pile up Charons boat so full,
Untill it topple o're, Oh 'twould be sport
To see them sprawl through the black slimy
lake.

and

The Deceiver:

Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day--and yet I think
Few come within the compass of my curse--
Wherein I did not some notorious ill:
As kill a man, or else devise his death,
Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it,
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself,
Set deadly enmity bewteen two friends,
Make poor men's cattle break their necks,
Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their
tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their
graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' door,
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
"Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead."
But I have done a thousand dreadful things,
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed,
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.

That one's Shakespear's: Titus Andronicus. The first passage makes me shiver, god I love the language. Reading of Charons boat and the dead sprawling in the black slimy lake makes me clench my fists and laugh as though the credit and triumph were mine. Oh yes, the more evil the better...and the second, though without motivation except for apparent amusement, reminds me so much of Iago...hahaha, ok, call me a dork, but I melt in this stuff...

As a freshman, I prided myself in that I was able to interpret the language of Romeo and Juliet where my classmates misunderstood. Ok, so maybe that's just a narrowly-observed view, but to me, it was as if I was the only one who gasped at the nurse's words when she told of juliet, who had fallen and hurt her forehead as a child, "Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy face?...
Thou will fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule? ...and, pretty fool, it stinted, said Ay"

alright...my ego may have been stroked a bit...Mrs. Sheatzle was my teacher then, and I discussed everything I could with her as well.
After class I asked, "He's saying she'll fall back in the act of sex when she grows older isn't he?"...though I don't think she liked that question, as she seemed a little lost at the word sex, she smiled and was pretty enthusiastic towards it. To be completely conceited, I don't think she'd come to that conclusion herself. However, whether I was feeding vanity; looking for admiration or not, I adore this literature, especially the discussion of it. Even if I've only read one passage of Lust's Dominion (that first passage), one story of The Canterbury Tales, heard one excerpt from Paradise Lost, and knowing so little as I do of Shakespear, I'll babble on and on and on...usually leaving important parts of sentence structure out of my speech in excitement, and sounding like too much of a hassle to listen to as I try to reword, go back, "wait, before that..." But even if I am spouting one continuous sentence, you'd be able to see my excitement if you watch me...

as you probably won't hear much...nothing, at least, that's too discernable...

(but...was my gasp out of embarrasment or realization? both I think...I was a ninth grader *shrug* hehe, as though I wouldn't be embarrassed now, sheesh! *shakes head*...)

Posted at 07:38 pm by Mowce
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Wednesday, November 05, 2003

breathing

I've had a request :)...

I went out with Sean tonight to see the matrix, and oh man, THE ENDING!!

here we are, pumped up with battle mech fight scenes and explosions all over the place, punches flying, concrete, glass...water...MAN!! and THEN! Neo DIES!! He just EXPLODES!!!

And you wanna know somethin else??? Agent Smith IS Neo, well, he's his opposite! Crazy huh? So of course when Neo and the rest of the Agent Smiths explode, it's cause there had to be a balance, one can't exist without the other...negative poles and positive poles...and you see the older oracle lying in the ditch where Smith died...he was being controlled? hm...*rubs chin* Oh, and Trinity, she dies too...after Neo got his eye's destroyed by Smith's little pawn. Bane...and of course the machines didn't destroy Zion, and everyone rejoiced, "yay!"

Then there was a little girl named Sothi who was, apparently, the last exile...? hm, you tell me...

(wa ha hah hah...ok, I blacked it out...I never boasted evil...)

I'm happy :) I watched his car leaving down the street from my driveway, stood out in the night and the cold air feeling content and wistful at the same time. There are some nights that make me feel eerie to be outside, when something disturbs my senses and makes me feel as though I've shrunk and the blackness has expanded and absorbed...it's hard to explain I suppose...you might put it in one word perhaps: paranoia. Although, on those kind of nights I'm not afraid, just...disturbed, out of place, something gives me reason to step warily and I can't identify it. I haven't felt that way for a little while, even so, tonight I wanted to embrace the night :) I wanted to sit in the middle of my yard and gaze, not at the stars, but at the wind swaying the branches of our willow tree. I wanted to see a bat and think about nighthawks at twighlight.

He took my chin, if just for a second, to turn my head to him... I love his kiss, his arms, his chest, his smell. (The bear still smells like you :) ) The sound of his voice, and his laugh, are wonderful to me. with Sean, I feel...well, warm in a sense, to put it in as simple a term as my love for him will allow...such a description may still be much too simple...though I have to admit I do lose touch with some things while I'm with him. Like stress and frustration... He says it's nice to feel me breathe relief into his arms...I think so too...

Posted at 08:53 pm by Mowce
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Wednesday, October 29, 2003

ah, well...

No, not too thrilling...but at least it feels good to know I'm getting things done (even though at the moment I'm not...picky)

It's hard to explain how I feel right now, physically I'm not in the best shape, but emotionally...I'm not quite sure whether to feel worried, relieved, lonely, angry, happy...I think I identify a bit of anxiety though..stupid school. I'm just tired i guess, last night left me sorta wiped..
And tomorrow there are tests tests tests...what joy!

feeling a bit sarcastic apparently...resent? hm...no, just tired.

I guess that's what it comes down to: I am tired.

not of anything...ok, of sickness, yes, of making up work, and of time. Those three things I've been getting pretty tired of lately.
.
.
.

What would it mean to you if I said I love tea, but looking in the mirror I see that it's turned my teeth yellow? just tossing something out there.

simply a fact to me. yes, just throwing another disjointed statement into the dark winds of cyberspace..

I don't feel too right tonight. I think it's because I've been in the house all day. Tomorrow (unless I find these tests a harder time than I thought) I'll be in a much better mood. a resolution!! *grips fist*

Posted at 09:04 pm by Mowce
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