[one hundred, seventy-seven]
grab someone sexy tell 'em hey,
Boy do I feel like going dancing. I would be dancing, actually, right now probably or in the near near future, if I didn't have work tomorrow morning at nine am, and therefore I am jealous of some certain people who are going dancing this evening. This isn't fair at all, but I do get to start a fabulous job tomorrow, so I'm excited regardless.
If it is any consolation to anyone, I got to dance around my room to the Guess who. Someone bring me back to the seventies, I was landed in the wrong time, literally should've been in my grandparents' era, I should've been born in the early fifties, teenager in the seventies, and then I'd have the music experience of the sixties and seventies, and the money to buy sweet fashion in the eighties. Man, my life has been preplanned out.... Just a little late, and in the wrong time zone.
Dear universe, something fantastic via music and fashion better be coming in the next decade, possibly the next Beatles, love always, Jess.
Have a lovely evening!
Jess :]
Sunday, June 26, 2011
later than late baby, I'm a diamond
[one hundred, seventy-six]
I've been writing for so long on this blog that I forget what defines a blog, and I realise that I don't write it a standard way, but I love my blog, and I'm a little behind today so I shall write another one later, but for now this is what you're gonna get.
I've been having some issues lately, wondering what everything is. I've talked to some people recently about a certain thing that happens to me, other than my night terrors but my interesting mind breaks. I have recently written a story-type thing that heavilly escapes me from my mind, it sort of breaks little pieces of how I've felt and how I think. I have aura issues, this was just an interesting scuffle into my mind, hooray!
What else what else, I love peanut butter. I haven't had it in a while, I feel like maybe I should change that. I like to have it on toast... And that's about it. Or cellery. Is that weird? People are weird. Who like, invented food? Who decided they were sick of separate vegetables, meats, grains, who decided to mix something like chicken and put grain and tomatoes together, to make some sort of pasta? Friggen Italians, what with your food and your beautiful country and all of that, seriously.
I don't have a lot else to say, oh, I get car sick, I wish things didn't feel like a wave pool in the car for me, it's been ever since my last surgery, it is rather unfortunate. This also happens while I drive to and from the city where my school is, so, that's just wonderful now isn't it?
Take care, don't forget that I like your face. What a crap blog today.
Jess :]
I've been writing for so long on this blog that I forget what defines a blog, and I realise that I don't write it a standard way, but I love my blog, and I'm a little behind today so I shall write another one later, but for now this is what you're gonna get.
I've been having some issues lately, wondering what everything is. I've talked to some people recently about a certain thing that happens to me, other than my night terrors but my interesting mind breaks. I have recently written a story-type thing that heavilly escapes me from my mind, it sort of breaks little pieces of how I've felt and how I think. I have aura issues, this was just an interesting scuffle into my mind, hooray!
What else what else, I love peanut butter. I haven't had it in a while, I feel like maybe I should change that. I like to have it on toast... And that's about it. Or cellery. Is that weird? People are weird. Who like, invented food? Who decided they were sick of separate vegetables, meats, grains, who decided to mix something like chicken and put grain and tomatoes together, to make some sort of pasta? Friggen Italians, what with your food and your beautiful country and all of that, seriously.
I don't have a lot else to say, oh, I get car sick, I wish things didn't feel like a wave pool in the car for me, it's been ever since my last surgery, it is rather unfortunate. This also happens while I drive to and from the city where my school is, so, that's just wonderful now isn't it?
Take care, don't forget that I like your face. What a crap blog today.
Jess :]
la-dee-da
[one hundred, seventy-five]
Are authors, writers, thieves? My playwriting professor told us that we all are, people who write, who make it our business to steal from other people, maybe little details, maybe insignificant details that people themselves forget about they are so mundane, but we do take them from somewhere, nothing is just imagined. I found that tidbit a little Freudian, like everything is predetermined in life due to the experiences, people, socialisation and nurture that is given through out life. Is it weird that I read my own writing, said company business included, with a British accent? I wish it was England so much more than Canada. I think that when writing, you need a couple of important things, one of them maybe be "borrowing," but with a stylistic touch.
You must have an overactive imagination. If you had an invisible friend as a child, or played with a necklace of beads and imagined a courtroom (maybe, just maybe, that was only me) then you are in the right suit to be shuffled in with the writers. Even in journalism you need some vocabulary flaire, something that puts you a part from mundane journalists with a heavy heart and even heavier pen.
You need to love things about people. I love so many things about people that they don't notice. I have this one friend, who when she is paying for something, she flips through every section of her wallet looking for change, gift cards, I don't know she doesn't realise that she does it, but she does it every time, and I notice. That is one thing I miss about being relatively blind, I can't see the details that I think up. I love detail, I love knowing what colour the leaves were, or what song was playing on the car radio during an accident, or the necktie the colour the texture, it is something that interests me, to know the little things, and therefore, you must really want to create a world in which you characters live.
You do have to borrow ideas, as I mentioned, I do have a character who has a sort of wallet-schizophrenia, who always checks every slot, but he does it obviously. I would take something as small and unnoticeable to one person, and magnify it until it is the basis of a story. I had a character once who loved to tie their hair in knots, I don't think that story carried on, but I used to like to tie my hair in knots when I was little, and therefore I will continue to take little tidbits, or just hints of ideas from quirks of people, because many people do just do things.
So if you write, take a little time to notice, people watch, look at the way people do things. How do your neighbours cut the grass? Does your teacher have nervous ticks? It’s a fun thing to do, I like it at least.
Take care,
Jess :]
Are authors, writers, thieves? My playwriting professor told us that we all are, people who write, who make it our business to steal from other people, maybe little details, maybe insignificant details that people themselves forget about they are so mundane, but we do take them from somewhere, nothing is just imagined. I found that tidbit a little Freudian, like everything is predetermined in life due to the experiences, people, socialisation and nurture that is given through out life. Is it weird that I read my own writing, said company business included, with a British accent? I wish it was England so much more than Canada. I think that when writing, you need a couple of important things, one of them maybe be "borrowing," but with a stylistic touch.
You must have an overactive imagination. If you had an invisible friend as a child, or played with a necklace of beads and imagined a courtroom (maybe, just maybe, that was only me) then you are in the right suit to be shuffled in with the writers. Even in journalism you need some vocabulary flaire, something that puts you a part from mundane journalists with a heavy heart and even heavier pen.
You need to love things about people. I love so many things about people that they don't notice. I have this one friend, who when she is paying for something, she flips through every section of her wallet looking for change, gift cards, I don't know she doesn't realise that she does it, but she does it every time, and I notice. That is one thing I miss about being relatively blind, I can't see the details that I think up. I love detail, I love knowing what colour the leaves were, or what song was playing on the car radio during an accident, or the necktie the colour the texture, it is something that interests me, to know the little things, and therefore, you must really want to create a world in which you characters live.
You do have to borrow ideas, as I mentioned, I do have a character who has a sort of wallet-schizophrenia, who always checks every slot, but he does it obviously. I would take something as small and unnoticeable to one person, and magnify it until it is the basis of a story. I had a character once who loved to tie their hair in knots, I don't think that story carried on, but I used to like to tie my hair in knots when I was little, and therefore I will continue to take little tidbits, or just hints of ideas from quirks of people, because many people do just do things.
So if you write, take a little time to notice, people watch, look at the way people do things. How do your neighbours cut the grass? Does your teacher have nervous ticks? It’s a fun thing to do, I like it at least.
Take care,
Jess :]
Thursday, June 23, 2011
he cast no shadow
[one hundred, seventy-four]
If there is something that I would like to say, it would be that buttons are an annoying invention, as are things that keep articles of clothing together: clothes pins, safety pins, zippers, laces, anything annoying that is tedious to do up and sit around. Or walk around. That is all.
Jess :]
If there is something that I would like to say, it would be that buttons are an annoying invention, as are things that keep articles of clothing together: clothes pins, safety pins, zippers, laces, anything annoying that is tedious to do up and sit around. Or walk around. That is all.
Jess :]
what am I, alive?
[one hundred, seventy-two]
I remember wrting a lot that I feel like I'm taking my life not for granted, but some days I feel like I'm dead inside. Is that a terrible thing to say about myself? I feel like I'm running in place, like it is continuously the start of the race, the tension right before the "go" gunshot and it goes off, and then I'm stuck. I'm stuck.
I feel that everything is the same. Have you ever seen the movie Pleasantville? Where everything's in black and white. I feel like there are moments in my life where there's colour, there's technicolour, psychadellic colour things that I never, ever want to lose, and then there's these moments where I just could go on and on and never realise that I'm not living in colour. There could be an occaisional brown, but brown isn't the prettiest.
I have this weird craving for fried chicken, I think I watch too much Sex and the City. I love that show, because they get stuck, and they get hurt, and they aren't perfect, and they still have such optimism. I gots the positivity man. I can't wait for September, you know why? Because there are things that I can experience there without even trying where here I have to make plans and work my ass off. Let's do some easy stuff together.
I have a lot of things on my mind. I would like to talk them out with someone. This is me calling out. Please. I need something different.
yours truly,
Jess :]
I remember wrting a lot that I feel like I'm taking my life not for granted, but some days I feel like I'm dead inside. Is that a terrible thing to say about myself? I feel like I'm running in place, like it is continuously the start of the race, the tension right before the "go" gunshot and it goes off, and then I'm stuck. I'm stuck.
I feel that everything is the same. Have you ever seen the movie Pleasantville? Where everything's in black and white. I feel like there are moments in my life where there's colour, there's technicolour, psychadellic colour things that I never, ever want to lose, and then there's these moments where I just could go on and on and never realise that I'm not living in colour. There could be an occaisional brown, but brown isn't the prettiest.
I have this weird craving for fried chicken, I think I watch too much Sex and the City. I love that show, because they get stuck, and they get hurt, and they aren't perfect, and they still have such optimism. I gots the positivity man. I can't wait for September, you know why? Because there are things that I can experience there without even trying where here I have to make plans and work my ass off. Let's do some easy stuff together.
I have a lot of things on my mind. I would like to talk them out with someone. This is me calling out. Please. I need something different.
yours truly,
Jess :]
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
try
[one hundred, seventy-one]
I would die
before forgetting
you
and all of
the things that
you do
and if
you
would like to
leave
I'll wear my heart
on my
sleeve
because you turn
frowns
the other way
so that I can have
a really good
day
so please just
don't
go
away.
if tomorrow
you fall
just know
that
I'm not going
anywhere
and that if you
need someone
like
me
for a hand to hold
or a spot of
tea
just call me
up
and I'll be there
because
I care.
love,
Jess :]
I would die
before forgetting
you
and all of
the things that
you do
and if
you
would like to
leave
I'll wear my heart
on my
sleeve
because you turn
frowns
the other way
so that I can have
a really good
day
so please just
don't
go
away.
if tomorrow
you fall
just know
that
I'm not going
anywhere
and that if you
need someone
like
me
for a hand to hold
or a spot of
tea
just call me
up
and I'll be there
because
I care.
love,
Jess :]
some like it
[one hundred, seventy]
Yesterday was such a good day. I feel like I don't talk about my life enough, like my actually day to day life, maybe this next third of the blog should be about my day-to-day, or whatever I feel like. Maybe I'll do another month of prose, I'll think about it. Maybe July, but July's going to be busy for me, so maybe August. Probably not I'll save it for October or something. This is irrelevant to my good day yesterday.
It was sort of a bumpy start since I did nothing all morning, then out for lunch with a girlfriend, then poker night with the boys. Now, you don't really know my boys, but they are fantastic, and I spent six hours just laughing and playing poker and learning how to play poker, and it really was the best. Then I found out that the job that I interviewed for was offered to me, so that was awesome, then I got a Happy Meal, and I got a Barbie toy. It rocked.
As for my happiness, I think I've been drinking in a little more, soaking it up to take a summer term for the first day of summer, I've been really understanding that people who are important to me need to know that, and I need to just sit down and accept that even though they don't show it or say it a lot, they do care about me, and they will be there for me, and I know that if I need a smile I can literally text any one of the five of my boys and not be disappointed.
So if you have good friends, best friends, friends of any kind, that you love and want them to be happy and care about, shoot them a message today and let them know that, because if they don't know they should. And never forget that I love you, 'cause you read me and when you read me you look at all of my vulnerabilites, and you don't judge me for being me, and that means a lot to me, so thank you.
love always,
Jess :]
Yesterday was such a good day. I feel like I don't talk about my life enough, like my actually day to day life, maybe this next third of the blog should be about my day-to-day, or whatever I feel like. Maybe I'll do another month of prose, I'll think about it. Maybe July, but July's going to be busy for me, so maybe August. Probably not I'll save it for October or something. This is irrelevant to my good day yesterday.
It was sort of a bumpy start since I did nothing all morning, then out for lunch with a girlfriend, then poker night with the boys. Now, you don't really know my boys, but they are fantastic, and I spent six hours just laughing and playing poker and learning how to play poker, and it really was the best. Then I found out that the job that I interviewed for was offered to me, so that was awesome, then I got a Happy Meal, and I got a Barbie toy. It rocked.
As for my happiness, I think I've been drinking in a little more, soaking it up to take a summer term for the first day of summer, I've been really understanding that people who are important to me need to know that, and I need to just sit down and accept that even though they don't show it or say it a lot, they do care about me, and they will be there for me, and I know that if I need a smile I can literally text any one of the five of my boys and not be disappointed.
So if you have good friends, best friends, friends of any kind, that you love and want them to be happy and care about, shoot them a message today and let them know that, because if they don't know they should. And never forget that I love you, 'cause you read me and when you read me you look at all of my vulnerabilites, and you don't judge me for being me, and that means a lot to me, so thank you.
love always,
Jess :]
Sunday, June 19, 2011
is this serious 169?
[one hundred, SIXTY-NINE]
Well I realised today how unarticulate and poetically-challenged I am. I don't write like an eloquent elephant I write like I speak, which, unfortunate for people who read/listen to me, is harsh and raw and all over the place. I wish I was a little more contained, but I don't, because that's just me and you all have got to deal with it. I love simple things, but I also love messes. I think that would be my twitter hashtag #wordsthatdescribeme : mess, loud, different.
I watched When Harry Met Sally last night, is Billy Crystal supposed to be attractive in the eighties? Because he isn't, but he is absolutely attractive in every other possible way. So is Meg Ryan, and they have a beautiful friendship, and I think I finally understand the meaning and use of allusions in text. They referenced Casablanca numerous times in that movie, and I reference Hotel California in the story I wrote, and to be honest I never really loved allusions because if you don't catch on you don't really get the whole metaphoric rhetoric writing fancy pants style, but man, it's beautiful when you do catch on, sort of like inside jokes, you love to be in them, hate to not understand them.
It is all I can do to contain myself, all I want to do is just run around outside in the sunshine. I feel like jumping on my bed. I wonder if things from my blog make it seem like I'm happy with my life. If I read over all of my posts, which I'd enver do I don't have the patience quite yet, maybe when I hit two hundred, would you be able to reveal some sort of psycho-analytic mesmerizing insight to my life? I guess February probably was the most depressing month due to a break up and illness, but to be honest I think I loved that month, because it shaped who I am today, I'm tough as nails.
I take nails in my cereal, sans milk.
I would also like to stress the fact that I am happy, I live with an incredibly high amount of stress in my life, but I am clearly optimistic that all of this bullshit is just paving the path to my safe haven, that I've had so much stress in the first two decades of my life (specifically the past five years) that maybe the next two decades will be smooth sailing. I doubt it, but alas I remain optimistic.
Adding to the list of my beliefs, I believe in inspiration. I believe in goodness and hope, and I believe in the power ofa hug. Try it out, hug someone. It is like nothing else, honestly. You are being transferred energy. It's the best thing ever.
Take a break for me today, if you're on summer vaca you are lucky, if you have exams coming up good luck, if you're working honestly take a break and just relax for me today, and if you're kind of inbetween all of this mess than just get your shit done and then take the load off. That's me, doing my work, then watching some Beyond the Sea tonight probably since I've been told it's sort of amazing, and I don't doubt that for a second!
Take care! Caught up finally!
Jess :]
Well I realised today how unarticulate and poetically-challenged I am. I don't write like an eloquent elephant I write like I speak, which, unfortunate for people who read/listen to me, is harsh and raw and all over the place. I wish I was a little more contained, but I don't, because that's just me and you all have got to deal with it. I love simple things, but I also love messes. I think that would be my twitter hashtag #wordsthatdescribeme : mess, loud, different.
I watched When Harry Met Sally last night, is Billy Crystal supposed to be attractive in the eighties? Because he isn't, but he is absolutely attractive in every other possible way. So is Meg Ryan, and they have a beautiful friendship, and I think I finally understand the meaning and use of allusions in text. They referenced Casablanca numerous times in that movie, and I reference Hotel California in the story I wrote, and to be honest I never really loved allusions because if you don't catch on you don't really get the whole metaphoric rhetoric writing fancy pants style, but man, it's beautiful when you do catch on, sort of like inside jokes, you love to be in them, hate to not understand them.
It is all I can do to contain myself, all I want to do is just run around outside in the sunshine. I feel like jumping on my bed. I wonder if things from my blog make it seem like I'm happy with my life. If I read over all of my posts, which I'd enver do I don't have the patience quite yet, maybe when I hit two hundred, would you be able to reveal some sort of psycho-analytic mesmerizing insight to my life? I guess February probably was the most depressing month due to a break up and illness, but to be honest I think I loved that month, because it shaped who I am today, I'm tough as nails.
I take nails in my cereal, sans milk.
I would also like to stress the fact that I am happy, I live with an incredibly high amount of stress in my life, but I am clearly optimistic that all of this bullshit is just paving the path to my safe haven, that I've had so much stress in the first two decades of my life (specifically the past five years) that maybe the next two decades will be smooth sailing. I doubt it, but alas I remain optimistic.
Adding to the list of my beliefs, I believe in inspiration. I believe in goodness and hope, and I believe in the power ofa hug. Try it out, hug someone. It is like nothing else, honestly. You are being transferred energy. It's the best thing ever.
Take a break for me today, if you're on summer vaca you are lucky, if you have exams coming up good luck, if you're working honestly take a break and just relax for me today, and if you're kind of inbetween all of this mess than just get your shit done and then take the load off. That's me, doing my work, then watching some Beyond the Sea tonight probably since I've been told it's sort of amazing, and I don't doubt that for a second!
Take care! Caught up finally!
Jess :]
wake up, a little suzie, wake up
[one hundred, sixty-eight]
I don't have much to say right now, I have a lot of things on my mind and a lot of stress that I thought would disappear last week is unfortauntely here to stay. I want to just write, sit down and take another five hour writing blitz and start a new story I think, I finished my last story in ten hours, thirty pages, it seems like I should've been done more in hindsight, but that's all I got done and I happen to love it. I feel like that's one of the only stress busters I've had lately, other than going out and being with people.
This house is driving me crazy, my room feels just so heavy, is that terrible or what? It is a cloud full of rain, and every time I get into bed I let the rain fall and the stress is released, but every time I am in my room it feels just wrong, and I don't know why. In my house it feels as though it's a storm, the walls trap me in and the only way to get out is to literally get out. I don't like it.
Maybe this whole house thing reminds me of the fact that all of my thoughts race through my head like a storm, and I don't get my mind off of things.
I love how vague this is, unfortunately I don't care.
another post later since I really should catch up.
Jess :]
I don't have much to say right now, I have a lot of things on my mind and a lot of stress that I thought would disappear last week is unfortauntely here to stay. I want to just write, sit down and take another five hour writing blitz and start a new story I think, I finished my last story in ten hours, thirty pages, it seems like I should've been done more in hindsight, but that's all I got done and I happen to love it. I feel like that's one of the only stress busters I've had lately, other than going out and being with people.
This house is driving me crazy, my room feels just so heavy, is that terrible or what? It is a cloud full of rain, and every time I get into bed I let the rain fall and the stress is released, but every time I am in my room it feels just wrong, and I don't know why. In my house it feels as though it's a storm, the walls trap me in and the only way to get out is to literally get out. I don't like it.
Maybe this whole house thing reminds me of the fact that all of my thoughts race through my head like a storm, and I don't get my mind off of things.
I love how vague this is, unfortunately I don't care.
another post later since I really should catch up.
Jess :]
Saturday, June 18, 2011
[one hundred, sixty-seven]
If it feels anything it feels upwards the motion of the stream
but it feels it downwards at extreme pressure and speed,
if it feels emotions it feels screaming terror that goes racing down
falling into the nape of the neck cold sweat hair standing,
If it knows something it knows it all with the wind of men flailing
their arms through and under it, showering themselves and sighing,
and if it knows something it knows nothing, the men fall without
knowing or loving or wanting, desire desire into the fire,
If it rubs the rocks it rubs the shaking trembling rocks, the low
the low, the low scraping strong logs breaking like bridges,
like steady stable strings that hold the place together,
if it rubs the rocks it rubs the depths of the bottoms of the gone,
If it tries, it goes.
focus: crazy waterfall poetry with no point at all.
Jess :]
If it feels anything it feels upwards the motion of the stream
but it feels it downwards at extreme pressure and speed,
if it feels emotions it feels screaming terror that goes racing down
falling into the nape of the neck cold sweat hair standing,
If it knows something it knows it all with the wind of men flailing
their arms through and under it, showering themselves and sighing,
and if it knows something it knows nothing, the men fall without
knowing or loving or wanting, desire desire into the fire,
If it rubs the rocks it rubs the shaking trembling rocks, the low
the low, the low scraping strong logs breaking like bridges,
like steady stable strings that hold the place together,
if it rubs the rocks it rubs the depths of the bottoms of the gone,
If it tries, it goes.
focus: crazy waterfall poetry with no point at all.
Jess :]
Friday, June 17, 2011
I'm late
[one hundred, sixty-six[
I'm late for this post, so I guess I'm going to have to write another one later, it seems like I've been one post behind everyday this week! I still write one a week, it was just the day before's! I've had a crazy week, and I did something yesterday that I love but I know I'm going to get slack for.
I got a tattoo yesterday of an owl on my forearm, and it takes up about half of my arm, and it didn't really hurt until the dude who's name was Cam started putting colour and, and then I began to make increasingly large bite-marks in my thumb, which hurt but it didn't hurt as much as the numerous needles rubbing my skin. I love the owl, it's gorgeous and colourful ad he's perfect. He has his wings wrapping around himself in a hug, which reminds me why I got it and it means a lot to me.
I've already been told it is sort of big, which is honestly fine with me, because if you don't know already I can't see well, and things that are big help me out. Even if I do get my sight back, I will look at it and be happy about it, because I love it. I didn't do it to rebel or be badass or to prove anything to anyone. I did it for my Great Grandfather who died when I was young, and he told me that I was special and that he loved me and to be strong, and he gave me an owl which I have on my desk, and it is beautiful and now everyday I can look down and remember him, and tomorrow is his birthday, and this means the world to me.
I miss him everyday.
Family is so important, if you take any little thing for granted you're going to miss out. My dad comes home today, it is my parents' twenty-second wedding anniversary today, and I bought them a present because I thought it was important. I'm realising so many of my priorities and values have been confused and muddled lately, and I'm beginning to change those.
So if you have a family, give them all hugs for me today. I believe in family and the trust and honesty and love, more than a lot of things in life. Be nice to them, love them, you deserve them but better yet they deserve happiness and love as well.
Take care and love,
Jess :]
I'm late for this post, so I guess I'm going to have to write another one later, it seems like I've been one post behind everyday this week! I still write one a week, it was just the day before's! I've had a crazy week, and I did something yesterday that I love but I know I'm going to get slack for.
I got a tattoo yesterday of an owl on my forearm, and it takes up about half of my arm, and it didn't really hurt until the dude who's name was Cam started putting colour and, and then I began to make increasingly large bite-marks in my thumb, which hurt but it didn't hurt as much as the numerous needles rubbing my skin. I love the owl, it's gorgeous and colourful ad he's perfect. He has his wings wrapping around himself in a hug, which reminds me why I got it and it means a lot to me.
I've already been told it is sort of big, which is honestly fine with me, because if you don't know already I can't see well, and things that are big help me out. Even if I do get my sight back, I will look at it and be happy about it, because I love it. I didn't do it to rebel or be badass or to prove anything to anyone. I did it for my Great Grandfather who died when I was young, and he told me that I was special and that he loved me and to be strong, and he gave me an owl which I have on my desk, and it is beautiful and now everyday I can look down and remember him, and tomorrow is his birthday, and this means the world to me.
I miss him everyday.
Family is so important, if you take any little thing for granted you're going to miss out. My dad comes home today, it is my parents' twenty-second wedding anniversary today, and I bought them a present because I thought it was important. I'm realising so many of my priorities and values have been confused and muddled lately, and I'm beginning to change those.
So if you have a family, give them all hugs for me today. I believe in family and the trust and honesty and love, more than a lot of things in life. Be nice to them, love them, you deserve them but better yet they deserve happiness and love as well.
Take care and love,
Jess :]
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
1/3
[one hundred, sixty-five]
Incredibly dialed in.
I want to have some sort of dessert buffet, I don't know why this is so important to me right now, maybe because we never had dessert often in our house when I was growing up, but right now I feel like it's really important to eat lots of desserts and then run around on the banks of the river and smile a lot. It's like to be young and fun and stuff.
Incredibly dialed in.
I want to have some sort of dessert buffet, I don't know why this is so important to me right now, maybe because we never had dessert often in our house when I was growing up, but right now I feel like it's really important to eat lots of desserts and then run around on the banks of the river and smile a lot. It's like to be young and fun and stuff.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
lyric
[one hundred, thirty-four]
If you are any way interested in music, it is nice to listen to solid soft rock or alternative bs, or listen to instrumental techno, classical, jazz, or anything else that brings up any interest. I personally love classic rock, and lots of other things on top of that, but if you dig down deep into the base of my being, then I'd have to say that the classics and the influenced of the classics are me, in short, they are my being.
So if you really want to look down deep into someone, steal their ipod. If anyone ever took my music I'd kill them, or critisize it, which happens often and I deal with it, I listen to the remotely awesome classic artists, the classical artists of the modern and pre-modern romantic era, I listen to techno hardstyle things, I listen to some soft rock and acoustic recordings, I listen to as little female artists as possible, and I love the Beach Boys. So if there's anything I left out, I obviously didn't mean to, but I've just been reading about the British invasion and the influence and impact of the importance of lyrics on American pop music, and I found a need to write about it.
For the record I have very strong opinions about music and will fight about them. One thing I feel strongly about and I chose to a couple of years ago was to choose a favourite song. Lots of people claim that music is their life, they would die without music, their ipod is their lifeline, etc. But those people can't choose one song (one two) that have revved them up completely. I kind of think that moronic, and it may change from time to time, but not choosing is the failure in that respect, so, if you're reading this, never tell me you don't know what song is your favourite, just choose one you like, for my benefit.
I am no longer a hypocrite in that respect either as my favourite songs are America-Simon and Garfunkel and Tiny Dancer-Elton John. I love so many other songs, as I profess whenever I am the slightest bit intoxicated or if I am in a music mood, but those are the top, and have been for years now. It is weird, because I enjoy music by both of those performers but I don't think either of those are my favourite artists. I would have to say the Beatles or David Bowie for my favourite, or Oasis, but that's a hard one to choose. Why is it people can choose favourite bands but not songs? I chose a category, or just recomend my ipod for future listening.
I live my life in lyric I feel like, but I've never been able to successfully complete a song. I write poetry, stories, blogs, captions, thoughts, ramblings, rants, but I can't finish a song. I've tried and they are all complete failures, but I guess I'll continue to work on that, not that I intend on becoming a songwriter, unless I lived in the sixties and could become a producer, because baby, do I have a vision.
So if you love music, which seems to be incredibly common in these last few generations, then you can share in my love for the lyric and the instrumentation and the artist, and toast to wonderful, influential, satisfying music, tunes, harmonies, and anything else you could listen to.
Take care,
Jess :]
If you are any way interested in music, it is nice to listen to solid soft rock or alternative bs, or listen to instrumental techno, classical, jazz, or anything else that brings up any interest. I personally love classic rock, and lots of other things on top of that, but if you dig down deep into the base of my being, then I'd have to say that the classics and the influenced of the classics are me, in short, they are my being.
So if you really want to look down deep into someone, steal their ipod. If anyone ever took my music I'd kill them, or critisize it, which happens often and I deal with it, I listen to the remotely awesome classic artists, the classical artists of the modern and pre-modern romantic era, I listen to techno hardstyle things, I listen to some soft rock and acoustic recordings, I listen to as little female artists as possible, and I love the Beach Boys. So if there's anything I left out, I obviously didn't mean to, but I've just been reading about the British invasion and the influence and impact of the importance of lyrics on American pop music, and I found a need to write about it.
For the record I have very strong opinions about music and will fight about them. One thing I feel strongly about and I chose to a couple of years ago was to choose a favourite song. Lots of people claim that music is their life, they would die without music, their ipod is their lifeline, etc. But those people can't choose one song (one two) that have revved them up completely. I kind of think that moronic, and it may change from time to time, but not choosing is the failure in that respect, so, if you're reading this, never tell me you don't know what song is your favourite, just choose one you like, for my benefit.
I am no longer a hypocrite in that respect either as my favourite songs are America-Simon and Garfunkel and Tiny Dancer-Elton John. I love so many other songs, as I profess whenever I am the slightest bit intoxicated or if I am in a music mood, but those are the top, and have been for years now. It is weird, because I enjoy music by both of those performers but I don't think either of those are my favourite artists. I would have to say the Beatles or David Bowie for my favourite, or Oasis, but that's a hard one to choose. Why is it people can choose favourite bands but not songs? I chose a category, or just recomend my ipod for future listening.
I live my life in lyric I feel like, but I've never been able to successfully complete a song. I write poetry, stories, blogs, captions, thoughts, ramblings, rants, but I can't finish a song. I've tried and they are all complete failures, but I guess I'll continue to work on that, not that I intend on becoming a songwriter, unless I lived in the sixties and could become a producer, because baby, do I have a vision.
So if you love music, which seems to be incredibly common in these last few generations, then you can share in my love for the lyric and the instrumentation and the artist, and toast to wonderful, influential, satisfying music, tunes, harmonies, and anything else you could listen to.
Take care,
Jess :]
WINNING
[one hundred, sixty-three]
I don't have much to say today, but I just want to remind you to not take anything or anyone for granted. Don't take for granted your parents who dote over you, or that one friend who talks to you all the time, because there will come a time when you have none of it, and you'll wish that everything was the way it was. Also, love everyday.
take care,
Jess :]
I don't have much to say today, but I just want to remind you to not take anything or anyone for granted. Don't take for granted your parents who dote over you, or that one friend who talks to you all the time, because there will come a time when you have none of it, and you'll wish that everything was the way it was. Also, love everyday.
take care,
Jess :]
Monday, June 13, 2011
bandeli barcode
[one hundred, sixty-two]
Do owls sleep all day? I understand that they are nocturnal, so that must mean that they do since they stay up all night. They must have a burrow or a nest inside trees, 'cause you'd never just look up in a tree and see an owl snoozing, that just seems unlikely, and I feel like I would've seen one by now if that weren't the case. I figure that these owls that are nocturnal do their hunting and their business during the night, which leads me to believe that they've got sweet eyes.
This has me thinking, obviously, if you didn't know, I am getting a tattoo on Thursday of an owl on my arm. There are many reasons for it, the main one is that my great grandfather gave me a toy owl when I was a young kid and I told him that he was magic, and he died, and he was a huge impact on my life for strength and love and trust, and to me it is just really important that this goes on me, that this lasts, and that everyone knows that it is important.
Minor reasons are you know, dumb Harry Potter owl reasons, the pain reasons, the strength and vision reasons, owls have great eyes in the dark and I do not, it's sort of ironic that I would choose an owl, but I love the owl that he gave me and I wanted a tattoo, it seemed only plausible to me.
So I am going to go through this oain for it, and it will be beautiful and I'll smile eventually I know it. I like to show compassion, and this is my devotion to that part of my family, this is for you Grampa, your Jake's getting this for you.
So anyway, I hope that you're having a good start to your week, I know this post is late and I'll be writing another one later, I am three posts away from being exactly one third finished my blog, one third finished this year, and it feels incredible. I love this blog.
love,
Jess :]
Do owls sleep all day? I understand that they are nocturnal, so that must mean that they do since they stay up all night. They must have a burrow or a nest inside trees, 'cause you'd never just look up in a tree and see an owl snoozing, that just seems unlikely, and I feel like I would've seen one by now if that weren't the case. I figure that these owls that are nocturnal do their hunting and their business during the night, which leads me to believe that they've got sweet eyes.
This has me thinking, obviously, if you didn't know, I am getting a tattoo on Thursday of an owl on my arm. There are many reasons for it, the main one is that my great grandfather gave me a toy owl when I was a young kid and I told him that he was magic, and he died, and he was a huge impact on my life for strength and love and trust, and to me it is just really important that this goes on me, that this lasts, and that everyone knows that it is important.
Minor reasons are you know, dumb Harry Potter owl reasons, the pain reasons, the strength and vision reasons, owls have great eyes in the dark and I do not, it's sort of ironic that I would choose an owl, but I love the owl that he gave me and I wanted a tattoo, it seemed only plausible to me.
So I am going to go through this oain for it, and it will be beautiful and I'll smile eventually I know it. I like to show compassion, and this is my devotion to that part of my family, this is for you Grampa, your Jake's getting this for you.
So anyway, I hope that you're having a good start to your week, I know this post is late and I'll be writing another one later, I am three posts away from being exactly one third finished my blog, one third finished this year, and it feels incredible. I love this blog.
love,
Jess :]
Saturday, June 11, 2011
just a bit?
[one hundred, sity-one]
It was cold in the mug, but it wasn't anything like here. I would tell you it was worse but it could've been argued either way. The walls weren't eggshell white or rough, but a pale blue and smooth, almost soft. I couldn't tell you that it wasn't uncomfortable, or even insane-driven to look at, because it was. It wasn't a circle or oval or anything resembling the mug, it was indescribable. I was whirling downward you would think in a spiral but it was more admirable than that, I wanted to shake the hands of the architect who designed this hell-hole, I wanted to look him straight in the eyes to know that he was feeling what everyone in this place felt. I wasn't lost or found, I wasn't in the transcedental in-between area that was near-death or insane people talk about, I was in the drain.
The drain was smooth and soft and slippery, it was a constant fall, it was constant motion movement moving like I was flying and falling and freeing myself from above and below. If it were a pipe I would be sewage, if it were a prison I would be a convict, but it was neither. I kept reminding myself that it was just because I had checked out. Like I said, Welcome to the hotel California; you can check out any time you like but you can never leave. It was almost the feeling of hatred, inward hatred and mass-overuse of failure. I knew that this was my fault, and that this was the time of no escaping, the period of disbelieving traps, but I knew that there was no way for me to attain forgiveness, so I fell.
At a point a remembered the mug, and how the tubes wrapped around my ankles changed colour with the time. I knew that if I was blue it'd be a frost-full-of-freezing kind of week, but when it turned red I was ready and Shannon was ready to make it purple. They tell me that the mug never turns purple, so I must've just jumped. Jumping is different than checking out. When you jump, you just leave, you jump off the cliff of holding on inside you, your soul links to your mind and together they just charge it all to your conscience and tell you to take a break. Jumping is like a bounce-back, a hit-rock-bottom feeling, that when it happens you want to get away but end up drowning in the middle of it.
I knew what I had done, and I suppose I regreted most of it. She was a bitch, that Sunny-bear, but I had loved her. I hadn't loved her enough though, clearly, and now I was paying for it. I was behind on the mortgage cheques and now I was hooked in with the law, in with the guilt and distrust and honest fallen people. I hadn't loved her more than the sky, and soon I would be lifted to the sky, to be with the ones that I love.
This is an exerpt from my blitz of writing I did last week, sort of a musing I just wrote up. It wasn't actually in the fifteen pages, but I'll keep it incase I want to use it. I don't think it's much of the story as is character development. If you want to read more you have to be really good at editing and don't want to hurt my feelings.
Have a lovely day!
Jess :]
It was cold in the mug, but it wasn't anything like here. I would tell you it was worse but it could've been argued either way. The walls weren't eggshell white or rough, but a pale blue and smooth, almost soft. I couldn't tell you that it wasn't uncomfortable, or even insane-driven to look at, because it was. It wasn't a circle or oval or anything resembling the mug, it was indescribable. I was whirling downward you would think in a spiral but it was more admirable than that, I wanted to shake the hands of the architect who designed this hell-hole, I wanted to look him straight in the eyes to know that he was feeling what everyone in this place felt. I wasn't lost or found, I wasn't in the transcedental in-between area that was near-death or insane people talk about, I was in the drain.
The drain was smooth and soft and slippery, it was a constant fall, it was constant motion movement moving like I was flying and falling and freeing myself from above and below. If it were a pipe I would be sewage, if it were a prison I would be a convict, but it was neither. I kept reminding myself that it was just because I had checked out. Like I said, Welcome to the hotel California; you can check out any time you like but you can never leave. It was almost the feeling of hatred, inward hatred and mass-overuse of failure. I knew that this was my fault, and that this was the time of no escaping, the period of disbelieving traps, but I knew that there was no way for me to attain forgiveness, so I fell.
At a point a remembered the mug, and how the tubes wrapped around my ankles changed colour with the time. I knew that if I was blue it'd be a frost-full-of-freezing kind of week, but when it turned red I was ready and Shannon was ready to make it purple. They tell me that the mug never turns purple, so I must've just jumped. Jumping is different than checking out. When you jump, you just leave, you jump off the cliff of holding on inside you, your soul links to your mind and together they just charge it all to your conscience and tell you to take a break. Jumping is like a bounce-back, a hit-rock-bottom feeling, that when it happens you want to get away but end up drowning in the middle of it.
I knew what I had done, and I suppose I regreted most of it. She was a bitch, that Sunny-bear, but I had loved her. I hadn't loved her enough though, clearly, and now I was paying for it. I was behind on the mortgage cheques and now I was hooked in with the law, in with the guilt and distrust and honest fallen people. I hadn't loved her more than the sky, and soon I would be lifted to the sky, to be with the ones that I love.
This is an exerpt from my blitz of writing I did last week, sort of a musing I just wrote up. It wasn't actually in the fifteen pages, but I'll keep it incase I want to use it. I don't think it's much of the story as is character development. If you want to read more you have to be really good at editing and don't want to hurt my feelings.
Have a lovely day!
Jess :]
Friday, June 10, 2011
shaken up
[one hundred, sixty]
You know when you lose something that is really important and you feel heavy responsibility on your shoulders? I have this thing where I can't even sleep if I can't find something until everything is fixed. I was thinking about it, and it really is frustrating when you can't find things, it's hard to ignore it's always there in the back of your mind. I feel like I shouldn't have lost anything.
You know when you lose something and you can't get it back? Like words or a person or a game, and there is no way to change what has happened? I feel that way sometimes. It's like when you work all day on a really good meal, and you're hungry from working all day, but when it comes time to eat the dinner, you feel sort of sad that you are losing all of your hard work.
You know the feeling that something has been lost and it is hopeless? I think I'm feeling that feeling a lot lately. I've lost things, and it's not like I'm negative about it or anything it's just that loss is such a hassle, the hassling part of life, the hassle is all in the execution. If it's your fault it just sucks, but if it wasn't even in your hands then wrapping your mind around fixing it is like a bad state.
Listen to the song 'asleep' by the Smiths.
take care,
Jess :]
You know when you lose something that is really important and you feel heavy responsibility on your shoulders? I have this thing where I can't even sleep if I can't find something until everything is fixed. I was thinking about it, and it really is frustrating when you can't find things, it's hard to ignore it's always there in the back of your mind. I feel like I shouldn't have lost anything.
You know when you lose something and you can't get it back? Like words or a person or a game, and there is no way to change what has happened? I feel that way sometimes. It's like when you work all day on a really good meal, and you're hungry from working all day, but when it comes time to eat the dinner, you feel sort of sad that you are losing all of your hard work.
You know the feeling that something has been lost and it is hopeless? I think I'm feeling that feeling a lot lately. I've lost things, and it's not like I'm negative about it or anything it's just that loss is such a hassle, the hassling part of life, the hassle is all in the execution. If it's your fault it just sucks, but if it wasn't even in your hands then wrapping your mind around fixing it is like a bad state.
Listen to the song 'asleep' by the Smiths.
take care,
Jess :]
Thursday, June 9, 2011
chewin' on the bits
[one hundred, fifty-nine]
If it is any consolation I don't feel like writing anymore, but I'll write a little. Have you ever felt like melting? Not just from heat but into the water or your bed or just anything? It isn't great, I hate the feeling of melting. I'd rather be a solid than a liquid, maybe that's just me. I always feel itchy or uncomfortable when it's melty out, I think I need an astronaut suit that keeps me hydrated and cool forever... Or atleast a constant termperature. I miss the beach a lot I wish I was there right now. I think I may want to go next week or something for a couple of days and just read and write and sit at the beach and stuff, go in the water. I didn't go in a lot last year because I was afraid of getting swept away. I miss school and my friends. It's late, I should sleep.
Have a good nigth,
Jess :]
If it is any consolation I don't feel like writing anymore, but I'll write a little. Have you ever felt like melting? Not just from heat but into the water or your bed or just anything? It isn't great, I hate the feeling of melting. I'd rather be a solid than a liquid, maybe that's just me. I always feel itchy or uncomfortable when it's melty out, I think I need an astronaut suit that keeps me hydrated and cool forever... Or atleast a constant termperature. I miss the beach a lot I wish I was there right now. I think I may want to go next week or something for a couple of days and just read and write and sit at the beach and stuff, go in the water. I didn't go in a lot last year because I was afraid of getting swept away. I miss school and my friends. It's late, I should sleep.
Have a good nigth,
Jess :]
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
cordial notices flying like cardinals
[one hundred, fifty-eight]
My global politics homework today was about the liberal economy and international relations, and there was a section on the World Trade Centre and how it is integral in the world economy, and how the world is interdependent on each individual state developing or industrialised, powerful or less, and it seems to me that people overlook these issues more often than not.
If I was say a politician, wouldn't it be in my best interest to be inclusive but fair in the economical import/export world? And even in the political rankings, wouldn't it make the most sense to not push out my fellow states in trade, but sign on to NAFTA, dig free trade, and forgo the sense of archical power for the betterment of the world as a whole? If it were up to me, I'd make it okay for everyone.
I would give everyone jobs, I would be industrious and use resources to their full potential and not take them for granted. I would not make decisions based on the realist realm of theoretical perspective, which is based on security military and power, but more of a liberalist perspective, something that is co-harmonious for everyone.
I have been contemplating, really, down to the nit grit detail, of the states that are America, and the state as a whole working together in a large, rambuncuous, indecent half-assed calamity. The government battles to be powerful both economically and military-based, but seems to fail on the market in stability, plausibility, and notoriety. The US does not make any standings in the world anymore, but it still remains a solid pillar in today's culture.
But alas, I have been thinking too politically today, just sort of peeved with the state of the world and how people really only think of security for their interior domestic state, as opposed to people not near them. Selfish pricks.
Anyway, have a lovely evening, sorry for the rant.
take care,
Jess :]
My global politics homework today was about the liberal economy and international relations, and there was a section on the World Trade Centre and how it is integral in the world economy, and how the world is interdependent on each individual state developing or industrialised, powerful or less, and it seems to me that people overlook these issues more often than not.
If I was say a politician, wouldn't it be in my best interest to be inclusive but fair in the economical import/export world? And even in the political rankings, wouldn't it make the most sense to not push out my fellow states in trade, but sign on to NAFTA, dig free trade, and forgo the sense of archical power for the betterment of the world as a whole? If it were up to me, I'd make it okay for everyone.
I would give everyone jobs, I would be industrious and use resources to their full potential and not take them for granted. I would not make decisions based on the realist realm of theoretical perspective, which is based on security military and power, but more of a liberalist perspective, something that is co-harmonious for everyone.
I have been contemplating, really, down to the nit grit detail, of the states that are America, and the state as a whole working together in a large, rambuncuous, indecent half-assed calamity. The government battles to be powerful both economically and military-based, but seems to fail on the market in stability, plausibility, and notoriety. The US does not make any standings in the world anymore, but it still remains a solid pillar in today's culture.
But alas, I have been thinking too politically today, just sort of peeved with the state of the world and how people really only think of security for their interior domestic state, as opposed to people not near them. Selfish pricks.
Anyway, have a lovely evening, sorry for the rant.
take care,
Jess :]
Monday, June 6, 2011
honesty.
[one hundred, fifty-seven]
I think I need to talk about something serious today, and I have been feeling a little down about it, so, yeah. Most of my first year I didn't think about my weight because I assumed that I would lose the weight that I had gained over my surgery. I did, and honestly I felt great most of the second semester, I felt not bad looking, I felt like as long as I avoided pictures... I got home, and I started realising how much I just, I don't, I don't know. I don't look like I want to.
I just feel really down right now, I don't look for other people's support on these kind of things unless I value what they think really, but right now, I don't know. I have nothing to say, nevermind.
Lost, I feel lost, like a losing battle. Don't help me.
Jess :]
I think I need to talk about something serious today, and I have been feeling a little down about it, so, yeah. Most of my first year I didn't think about my weight because I assumed that I would lose the weight that I had gained over my surgery. I did, and honestly I felt great most of the second semester, I felt not bad looking, I felt like as long as I avoided pictures... I got home, and I started realising how much I just, I don't, I don't know. I don't look like I want to.
I just feel really down right now, I don't look for other people's support on these kind of things unless I value what they think really, but right now, I don't know. I have nothing to say, nevermind.
Lost, I feel lost, like a losing battle. Don't help me.
Jess :]
Sunday, June 5, 2011
it may have pierced, but I shatter
[one hundred, fifty-six]
sticks and flicks, shower jumper down town show, shake and roll over troll, humble bee bumble branches brown and black, bring down around the town sound gown, if there tear bear flare, share mare bare, preacher care singing down town clown car tar jar shark, hark lark sound sing angel bring brown down, dank dick dangle drought, dry, drip drop drag, shatter, slap slip sopping dropping mopping, clocking shocking blocking, shock, tock tick tacking lacking showing shaking, freezing breezing teasing, boning losing smoothing parousing, carousel.
I would really like to go to this fair that I used to go to when I was young living in a small town, and I want to get cotten candy and ride the scrambler and scream at the top of my lungs, and then watch the horses and chickens run like they used to. Then go to my grandma's house and eat sandwiches and drink hot chocolate. I loved that fall fair, I sort of want to go again this year, take my friends and smile a lot lots of smiling. It was a time for no explanation. I miss those kinds of times, why are you watching croquet at a fall fair Jessie? Because I like the colour of the balls and the pants the men wear, is that an issue? I feel like I should probably work on my dialogue skills sometime soon, I hate dialogues in novels, let's all write like Jane Austen and hardly put any paragraph breaks or visible dialogue. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow while writing my blitz.
I learned the lesson of frustration lately this week, and I think that I ened to take another chill pill. I'll look for it sometime, that chill pill, maybe writing is the answer. I'm starting a Jack London book soon, why? Because it will be incredible.
take the day off,
Jess :]
sticks and flicks, shower jumper down town show, shake and roll over troll, humble bee bumble branches brown and black, bring down around the town sound gown, if there tear bear flare, share mare bare, preacher care singing down town clown car tar jar shark, hark lark sound sing angel bring brown down, dank dick dangle drought, dry, drip drop drag, shatter, slap slip sopping dropping mopping, clocking shocking blocking, shock, tock tick tacking lacking showing shaking, freezing breezing teasing, boning losing smoothing parousing, carousel.
I would really like to go to this fair that I used to go to when I was young living in a small town, and I want to get cotten candy and ride the scrambler and scream at the top of my lungs, and then watch the horses and chickens run like they used to. Then go to my grandma's house and eat sandwiches and drink hot chocolate. I loved that fall fair, I sort of want to go again this year, take my friends and smile a lot lots of smiling. It was a time for no explanation. I miss those kinds of times, why are you watching croquet at a fall fair Jessie? Because I like the colour of the balls and the pants the men wear, is that an issue? I feel like I should probably work on my dialogue skills sometime soon, I hate dialogues in novels, let's all write like Jane Austen and hardly put any paragraph breaks or visible dialogue. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow while writing my blitz.
I learned the lesson of frustration lately this week, and I think that I ened to take another chill pill. I'll look for it sometime, that chill pill, maybe writing is the answer. I'm starting a Jack London book soon, why? Because it will be incredible.
take the day off,
Jess :]
mechanically
[one hundred, fifty-five]
Brighten my day mechanically
down a long and tree littered road,
by shimmering classes of elevators,
or trembling sheets of flying,
living, but was lost,
pick up the brambles in your arm
and let me slip in there, too
When I write poetry, or anything really, I just let myself write. I don't really think about it, and I don't really think that's the point. I write what I'm feeling and let words form a shape and style of what is appropriate for what I am trying to say. The funny thing is, I never know what I'm trying to say.
If it was four am or the twelfth of June, it made no difference in the glass-floored bedroom. There was always an eye, always a watch-dog pounding on the floor. There was always some sort of crazy loon of a neighbour pounding on the walls. The roof nearly caved in trying to uphold the wind the rain, the waste that pounded the ceiling. It was a bedroom of nails, of shattering, it wasn't a slumber area, but that of a chamber invested in torturing convicts torturing those who deserved it most. The bedroom was hell.
I write a little paragraph without thinking, and images just float through. I was trying to describe it as I am walking smoothly through a tunnel in my mind, and it is dream-like the thoughts and images and words, the things that form my writing. These are glimpses into my short blitzes, which I am thinking of doing soon, where short little bursts of writing come thorugh combined into a long lovely written nothing. I don't know why I felt like writing about this right now, I'll end in cadence.
Four times ago I looked up and saw the way he was watching as subtle as a storm
as if miles away but right under his nose, he watched and checked his marks, today.
take care,
Jess :]
Brighten my day mechanically
down a long and tree littered road,
by shimmering classes of elevators,
or trembling sheets of flying,
living, but was lost,
pick up the brambles in your arm
and let me slip in there, too
When I write poetry, or anything really, I just let myself write. I don't really think about it, and I don't really think that's the point. I write what I'm feeling and let words form a shape and style of what is appropriate for what I am trying to say. The funny thing is, I never know what I'm trying to say.
If it was four am or the twelfth of June, it made no difference in the glass-floored bedroom. There was always an eye, always a watch-dog pounding on the floor. There was always some sort of crazy loon of a neighbour pounding on the walls. The roof nearly caved in trying to uphold the wind the rain, the waste that pounded the ceiling. It was a bedroom of nails, of shattering, it wasn't a slumber area, but that of a chamber invested in torturing convicts torturing those who deserved it most. The bedroom was hell.
I write a little paragraph without thinking, and images just float through. I was trying to describe it as I am walking smoothly through a tunnel in my mind, and it is dream-like the thoughts and images and words, the things that form my writing. These are glimpses into my short blitzes, which I am thinking of doing soon, where short little bursts of writing come thorugh combined into a long lovely written nothing. I don't know why I felt like writing about this right now, I'll end in cadence.
Four times ago I looked up and saw the way he was watching as subtle as a storm
as if miles away but right under his nose, he watched and checked his marks, today.
take care,
Jess :]
Friday, June 3, 2011
courage, the lioness reared
[one hundred, fifty-four]
I love torrents because now I can read what I want. I want to read books and stories about people that aren't old and rusty, I want to read the stories about things that are meaningful, or aren't. I am literate, I enjoy reading, I enjoy stories, I enjoy hearing people's words. I'd rather read with my eyes, but that's not the way in my plan anymore, so I read with my ears and I deal with it. It isn't the same. You should try it and see, if you can't sleep it's perfect.
I just downloaded a Jack London novel called 'the call of the wild' and I can't wait to start it. I also downloaded Oscar Wilde's 'Dorian Gray' and that is exciting to have as well. I can't wait to read like a normal person someday. I love it, I miss it, it's like a part of me hasn't been awake in a year.
Like sleeping for a decade and awaking to the world changed to inverse, black and white shades, for if you look deep enough into the earth's dressings it is only lust and suffering. Take a step away from the sunglassed highbeams and rub them a little, the world's still here, sitting, waiting, starving. If you've got a treat show it some love, if you've got some suntan lotion it's ready to be protected. Pass the peace, please.
MUAH, this is me, bein' caught up
Jess :]
I love torrents because now I can read what I want. I want to read books and stories about people that aren't old and rusty, I want to read the stories about things that are meaningful, or aren't. I am literate, I enjoy reading, I enjoy stories, I enjoy hearing people's words. I'd rather read with my eyes, but that's not the way in my plan anymore, so I read with my ears and I deal with it. It isn't the same. You should try it and see, if you can't sleep it's perfect.
I just downloaded a Jack London novel called 'the call of the wild' and I can't wait to start it. I also downloaded Oscar Wilde's 'Dorian Gray' and that is exciting to have as well. I can't wait to read like a normal person someday. I love it, I miss it, it's like a part of me hasn't been awake in a year.
Like sleeping for a decade and awaking to the world changed to inverse, black and white shades, for if you look deep enough into the earth's dressings it is only lust and suffering. Take a step away from the sunglassed highbeams and rub them a little, the world's still here, sitting, waiting, starving. If you've got a treat show it some love, if you've got some suntan lotion it's ready to be protected. Pass the peace, please.
MUAH, this is me, bein' caught up
Jess :]
BEAM ME UP
[one hundred, fifty-three]
Once upon a time there was a little old Lady who lived in a large mansion alone. She wore red dresses and purple lipstick everyday, and always wore her beautiful jewellry. She walked, everywhere, and whistled as she went, carrying her purses and sunhats and shopping bags. She liked to drive her car to the mountain nearby, and sit and watch the stream pass her, and get out and listen to the birds. One day this Lady found a small blue bird sitting on a ledge by the stream. The bird would not look away, it say staring at the Lady for hours. The Lady stared right back, not backing down. A couple of hours in she tweeted one whistle, and the bird jumped. It had been taken a-back from its interuption. The Lady smirked softly and got back into her car. She was predictable, all right, but she knew how to blow someone's mind once in a while. The bird sat, bewildered, and tweeted once in the Lady's direction. They were in mutual trust of eachother, content with their lives, content with their happiness. The Lady went home, the bird flew away, and the world kept on turning.
Jess :]
Once upon a time there was a little old Lady who lived in a large mansion alone. She wore red dresses and purple lipstick everyday, and always wore her beautiful jewellry. She walked, everywhere, and whistled as she went, carrying her purses and sunhats and shopping bags. She liked to drive her car to the mountain nearby, and sit and watch the stream pass her, and get out and listen to the birds. One day this Lady found a small blue bird sitting on a ledge by the stream. The bird would not look away, it say staring at the Lady for hours. The Lady stared right back, not backing down. A couple of hours in she tweeted one whistle, and the bird jumped. It had been taken a-back from its interuption. The Lady smirked softly and got back into her car. She was predictable, all right, but she knew how to blow someone's mind once in a while. The bird sat, bewildered, and tweeted once in the Lady's direction. They were in mutual trust of eachother, content with their lives, content with their happiness. The Lady went home, the bird flew away, and the world kept on turning.
Jess :]
nineteen fifty five, the birth of rock and roll
[one hundred, fifty-two]
I would like to take the time right now to just say, that I want to conquer my fear of bridges sometime soon. Like go to that huge bridge over Niagara and stand there, are you allowed to do that? I doubt it, but it seems like I should start getting over all of the things I'm afraid of. Bridges seem like a good start to me as any!
I don't want to go on Fear Factor and get in a bin of snakes or bugs, although those are my huge fears, or just be in a dark basement alone, or run out of time. I just want to stand on the edge of a bridge and look down, and freak out, and then grab hold on the railing, and know that I am okay.
Why you may ask? Because I look into the face of so much in my life, everyone does, and what some people just don't believe is that they're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Whatever this life throws at you, you have people who will hold your hand, or make you laugh, or buy you a popsicle if you need. You're not alone, and you're going to be okay.
"All I can do is keep, breathing" Listen to Ingrid Michaelson, she's pretty rad.
love always,
Jess :]
I would like to take the time right now to just say, that I want to conquer my fear of bridges sometime soon. Like go to that huge bridge over Niagara and stand there, are you allowed to do that? I doubt it, but it seems like I should start getting over all of the things I'm afraid of. Bridges seem like a good start to me as any!
I don't want to go on Fear Factor and get in a bin of snakes or bugs, although those are my huge fears, or just be in a dark basement alone, or run out of time. I just want to stand on the edge of a bridge and look down, and freak out, and then grab hold on the railing, and know that I am okay.
Why you may ask? Because I look into the face of so much in my life, everyone does, and what some people just don't believe is that they're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Whatever this life throws at you, you have people who will hold your hand, or make you laugh, or buy you a popsicle if you need. You're not alone, and you're going to be okay.
"All I can do is keep, breathing" Listen to Ingrid Michaelson, she's pretty rad.
love always,
Jess :]
shake me real tight like, son
[one hundred, fifty-one]
I want to be soaring in the clouds like a bird someday, high in the sky someday, I'd like to be free as a bird someday. Not free falling, just freedom. I think the meaning of that word has been lost lately. If you know one thing you know them all, right? I think that's the definition of a smart ass. Have you ever chosen to look from a different perspective before? Like from a bird in the sky. I want to look down and see it all, live through it all, fly through it all.
I think it is most important to realise that we are birds, we all are birds. We shit everywhere, go too fast, flap too hard, and some of us sit in the high parts of the trees and just sit. Content. Be content you say? Yes, content. Content may not be synonimous with happiness, but for pete's sake it's damn better than going too fast. I can't see much, so I see what I can.
So if you are not a bird, or if you'd rather crawl close to the ground. Take a sec to look through your eyes not your head or ears or anything else, because what we've got here is beautiful.
cheers,
Jess :]
I want to be soaring in the clouds like a bird someday, high in the sky someday, I'd like to be free as a bird someday. Not free falling, just freedom. I think the meaning of that word has been lost lately. If you know one thing you know them all, right? I think that's the definition of a smart ass. Have you ever chosen to look from a different perspective before? Like from a bird in the sky. I want to look down and see it all, live through it all, fly through it all.
I think it is most important to realise that we are birds, we all are birds. We shit everywhere, go too fast, flap too hard, and some of us sit in the high parts of the trees and just sit. Content. Be content you say? Yes, content. Content may not be synonimous with happiness, but for pete's sake it's damn better than going too fast. I can't see much, so I see what I can.
So if you are not a bird, or if you'd rather crawl close to the ground. Take a sec to look through your eyes not your head or ears or anything else, because what we've got here is beautiful.
cheers,
Jess :]
Thursday, June 2, 2011
the great pretender, sun sound
[one hundred, fifty]
I don't feel like writing much today. I feel like when the sun goes down on a hot day, and then everything is cold except the ground. The ground is still boiling hot but the air and the water and the sand is all cold but the pavement, the conductor, is still sweltering. The heat of the weekend has died down but under foot there still lies this boiling, troubling, sweltering, sticking feeling, this terrible feeling. I hate having things unfinished, that's why I write to-do lists and reminders sod have numerous daytimers and reminding notes, but then there's just complicating stressful notions, that is just painful, painful in plain sight.
Save me today, anyone, bring me up to speed, brighten me off, cool off my feet.
If you had a wonderful weekend I am happy for you, if you had an okay weekend I hear ya, if your birthday was yesterday (sunday) i LOVE YA! And if you are ready for things to pick up, they will, it's just a matter of gettin' the faith.
I gots the faith, yo.
take care,
Jess :]
I don't feel like writing much today. I feel like when the sun goes down on a hot day, and then everything is cold except the ground. The ground is still boiling hot but the air and the water and the sand is all cold but the pavement, the conductor, is still sweltering. The heat of the weekend has died down but under foot there still lies this boiling, troubling, sweltering, sticking feeling, this terrible feeling. I hate having things unfinished, that's why I write to-do lists and reminders sod have numerous daytimers and reminding notes, but then there's just complicating stressful notions, that is just painful, painful in plain sight.
Save me today, anyone, bring me up to speed, brighten me off, cool off my feet.
If you had a wonderful weekend I am happy for you, if you had an okay weekend I hear ya, if your birthday was yesterday (sunday) i LOVE YA! And if you are ready for things to pick up, they will, it's just a matter of gettin' the faith.
I gots the faith, yo.
take care,
Jess :]
lightening across
[one hundred, forty nine]
lightening across the music scene,
spinning faster than the speed of light,
fizzing slowly through the shaking and rattling,
the rolling of the tune dropped low,
until all that was heard was the last two notes,
a cadence across the sky.
brought down lower, whispering bass,
strumming slowly, finally,
past the end, past the last few,
a sunset on six bars,
the staff dragged lines across the sky,
if only it was read.
composed faster, speeding, a crescendo of tune,
of melody, harmony,
harmonising across the setting stream of solid lines,
broken lines, indecisive shaky lines,
the timbre broke and fell, shattering,
and it was the actual end.
love,
Jess :]
lightening across the music scene,
spinning faster than the speed of light,
fizzing slowly through the shaking and rattling,
the rolling of the tune dropped low,
until all that was heard was the last two notes,
a cadence across the sky.
brought down lower, whispering bass,
strumming slowly, finally,
past the end, past the last few,
a sunset on six bars,
the staff dragged lines across the sky,
if only it was read.
composed faster, speeding, a crescendo of tune,
of melody, harmony,
harmonising across the setting stream of solid lines,
broken lines, indecisive shaky lines,
the timbre broke and fell, shattering,
and it was the actual end.
love,
Jess :]
late postings
[one hundred forty eight]
bind and shuffle
I was looking at a pack of cards today, and I figured that it would be easier to shuffle if there was some way to keep them all together but in the same direction as they lay, and then shake them. I guess it is sort of a skill I never really cared for, shuffling cards, but it would be an interesting invention nonetheless. I wonder if card dealers in Vegas think about this, probably, I don't know if this has anything to do with my new found desire to gamble...
I really would like to play blackjack,in a sbig shiny casino and a nice dress, drinking gin and tonic with sunglasses on. I've been watching too much of '21'. I love that movie, probably because it's so glamorous so fabulous. I want to be fabulous. That's attainable, right?
I think everyone I know is fabulous, so, maybe it'll rub off on me.
take care,
Jess :]
bind and shuffle
I was looking at a pack of cards today, and I figured that it would be easier to shuffle if there was some way to keep them all together but in the same direction as they lay, and then shake them. I guess it is sort of a skill I never really cared for, shuffling cards, but it would be an interesting invention nonetheless. I wonder if card dealers in Vegas think about this, probably, I don't know if this has anything to do with my new found desire to gamble...
I really would like to play blackjack,in a sbig shiny casino and a nice dress, drinking gin and tonic with sunglasses on. I've been watching too much of '21'. I love that movie, probably because it's so glamorous so fabulous. I want to be fabulous. That's attainable, right?
I think everyone I know is fabulous, so, maybe it'll rub off on me.
take care,
Jess :]
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