i have fibromalgia. ugh. more drugs, more insomnia.
oh well. love the girls i work with, love my girlfriend, & recently interviewed for graduate school.
also tried to blow up our halloween jack o' lantern. my girlfriend eventually crushed it by throwing & dropping a cement block on it. repeatedly.
i was more interesting when i presented as a...
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with all the pain that attempts to break my physical manifestation also comes all the euphoric beauty that attempts to resurrect my soul.
everything costs something. or so i'm told.
hi ya!
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& i am luckier still...she & i are two little fish, connected by soul-ar cords...crab shells cracked & broken...
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its silly how sorrow always brings with it poetry and rememberance...
your words are like poetry to me.
thank you for everything you've ever given me.
my life was so fucked up that year we met, but i wouldn't trade it for anything. i'd experience it ten times again if it meant coming out of it with a friend like you.
i'm totally gonna come and crash on your couch just so i can hear that southern twang.
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the electromagnetic field of the heart is SIXTY times that of the brain. wow. we can alter the universe with our beingness & our attitudes. our outlooks. but we all already knew that, eh?
my heart is full.
even with all of the cynicism, anger, disappointment, & disillusionment i generate on a daily basis, i have learned recently that there is always the...
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That is a great entry, by the way
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the teacher stands in front of the class,
draw a picture of what you want to do
when you grow up.
beneath her crayon drawing, the invisible girl has written:
when i grow up,
i want to walk on a rainbow
the invisible girl
wishes:
- the bell would never ring
- warmth could follow her home
- love could never leave
-...
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[Edited on Sep 26, 2005 8:12PM]
i've lived inside a chronically ill form my entire life. i was born with pneumonia & had it for the first 2 months of my life. i had malformed ankles & wore casts from toe to ass the first year & a half of my life....
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this country is fucked up.
i hope your doctors take care of you. i love you even though you are mortal.
i have new respect for people who can quit or drastically cut back on any of their unhealthy vices, like smoking or drinking.
i have new sunglasses.
i like the smell of oncoming autumn.
i am reading a book about the neurophysiology of the brain during sleep.
i am in love.
That is all.
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...even though i'll lose a week's pay & i'll have to pay exorbitant prices for gas to drive there...i...
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while i am hoping that the people in distress find their situation growing easier, i have to admit that i am seriously concerned with the wider implications of this disaster. i sincerely hope that the american nation can learn something from this and re-evaluate their priorities.
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satisfaction comes in brief moments, i believe. i don't think it's really possible to make it a state of being, so it's not something from within which you can become stagnant.
i think that when you're truly living in the moment - breathing cold air, smoking...
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curiosity is the only thing that keeps me alive most days
me too. and its the type of curiousity that just won't let me sleep at night. crawls under the skin and made a permanent home for itself, nestling somewhere close to my pituitary gland.
why is it that your words always hit dead centre. i certainly value everything everyone else has to say, but they always hit the periphery. that's fine, gives me new perspectives - on how to view things in my life, but also insight into theirs. but your words are just like my own. ...still - after all these years.
how do you do it? it must be another of your superhero powers. i do love you.
thankyou for the beautiful journal entry.
I'm searching for satisfaction but not letting myself have it.
I'm so tired of running in endless cycles.. circles.. all just to please someone...
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i've missed you.
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welcome back missy
it's as if i'm collecting, spooning together, the remaining sunlight of the afternoon. ushering globdules together so that my sitting in the plaza may be in a yellow puddle. i know that taking levi strauss & durkheim out of my bag is optimistic (they're quite old after all), but i could not have predicted that i should write. inspired by a girl i don't really know (i wish your words had come from me, because it's almost as if they have. publish. run away. i love you. as much as i can say that truthfully without having met you or ever talked to you. we are great friends who have yet to meet), i address her in one of those countless letters that were never intended to be sent. truth, youth, beauty - it's all there. for forty minutes i sit on the asphalt scribbling, and every person's shadow passing looks like its coming towards me. every shadow passing looks like tim, but tim isn't coming towards me. the puddle dries up just before five, or more accurately, the spotlight that took me away from this world, the considerate quarantine, is suddenly switched off.
then tim is there, in the cold scarfed grey. as DEATH is clad appropriately, so is ROMANTIC OF WINTER. holding hands, breathing out in white, mittens & hot mead are merely the free trials - you should see me in sumptious hours.