I wish I were brave enough to do all the things I dream of doing.
Anonymous
07:16:25 PM
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Hello from the wilds of Colorado!
I just wanted to know, what do you guys (Enloe types) think of Colorado? We have our own set of stereotypes about East-Coast people, so what do you think of the West Coast in general?
The Watcher
02:22:10 PM
I love Tyler forever....I loved him since I was 8 and now im 13 almost 14 I dont know what to do...any advice send a email to Sady_lady27@yahoo.com ..thanks!
Taylin
12:39:32 AM
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
A word of warning: A girl recently has randomly informed me that she's had a crush on me for a while now. I was /pretty/ good friends with her but this was completely out of the blue. I just don't see it going anywhere. Now I've been avoiding her like the plague (I actaully ran from her before she saw me this morning) becasue I don't want to hurt her feelings.
Before you go out and reveal those deepest desires, weigh the odds and use extreme caution. Do you really want to risk your friendship?
Anonymous
09:06:46 PM
I'm kind of embarassed I've been so obvious on here.
Being a guy and liking guys is not cool. It leads to negative stereotypes about weakness and femininity that I find despicable. I hope people don't feel that way about me. What if they think I'm a Daniel W? Ugh...
I guess most of the time I don't care what other people think, but my secret is: sometimes I do.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Sometimes I get hit on by gay guys. Honestly, I'd give the guy on guy thing a try if it wasn't for the whole... another guy's penis thing. Bareback Mount... I mean BROKEBACK Mountain anyone? (Yeah, you'll know who I am if we've discussed this... figured I'd give Tangst a go on it).
Anonymous
10:18:49 PM
Last weekend at the mall I was approached by a representative of the John Robert Powers Modeling Organization. He wanted to know if I was interested in being a model of any type- or had it at least crossed my mind.
I gave him a dissapointed look and told him that being told what is and is not beautiful about my body is not my idea of fun- and that I want to be appreciated for something more than just what I appear to be at a glance. He of course gave me a "that's ok- we're about more than looks- we have scholarships etc etc" and I eventually just walked away.
I'm proud of myself.
But there's this one little voice inside of me that says I just missed an opportunity that could have changed my life- and I'm an idiot for not at least trying it.
I can't tell my friends because I'm afraid they'll just agree with the idea that refusing was a mistake.
Anonymous
08:01:40 PM
I sort of wish some amazing, fabulous, and kind girl could materialize in my doorway right now. And not just somebody that says "hi" and leaves, I mean she's in the doorway because she wants to be with ME. Ready? I want it to happen... now!... Now!.. Er... now now now? No, I suppose not... and while I'm at it, I'd like a pony.
Anonymous
07:31:47 PM
Monday, January 09, 2006
so basically everyone is going to know who this is. i don't care.
i hate swimming simply because i have to be seen wearing a suit and nothing else. I feel so fat and so undesirable and just...gross when i'm around them. because they're all really skinny...and i just...i'm not. i feel like they think im disgusting. and when friends come to my meets i feel fat around them too. not to mention i feel ugly because of my wet hair and goggle marks. life's a bitch sometimes.
Anonymous
08:13:57 PM
Sunday, January 08, 2006
last sex-driven poem for a while, i promise. i'm just in a hormonal mood, i guess.
i cannot imagine that this is
eden, or that you and i are
both adam, because although
we took (stealthily) from the
hard wood tree at the center
of the garden there is no eve
to tempt us with her curves
(no eve on earth, despite how
much easier it would be to love
her, that feminine softness who
makes me gag)
eden was the place where time moved
too quickly, and here it is stopped:
despite how we arch our backs in
orgasmic pleasure we never produce
anything but dust. the rest of
the world moves
onward with production
but we are alone here in the
garden-of-mostly-evil.
oh god
i breathe (god took enoch, and enoch
was not. but when you take me
violently, then I AM)
and as we approach the rapture
i bleat like a sheep (goats
go to hell) i bleat like
an animal
will i go to hell?
probably
that's what
we're told
did adam go to
heaven? probably
not. and he had
eve.
Eh, I got a little rushed near the end. I don't like this one as much as my last one. My secret is: sometimes you just gotta get these out.
EDIT: I changed some things that bothered me about this poem.
nostalgia/irony
I understand why you did the things you did.
All of the things.
We don't want these feelings to open up again, do we?
It's just for a moment after waking you hope the dream is still real.
Because at that point I still had some hope, maybe.
It's just ironic that after so many differences we were the same on that one point.
I'm writing a novel, you're sort of in it.
So I've been thinking lately that when a Webster's dictionary or an encyclopedia upgrades, everyone switches additions if there's something new. Perhaps you don't buy the knew one in interest of money, but we still use the same rules.
Then I was thinking, isn't Islam like Monotheism v3.0?
Christians are lagging behind a bit, and you jews, man you guys are like dial-up.
Anonymous
12:47:45 PM
So your body is a temple...
Your yawn beckons a chasm
(No doubt the queen of darkest alleys)
And utters a sleepy spasm
From your lungs and pagan valleys
Where apathetic are the saints
Who worship what each idol paints
I have never been moved by any a sermon
Of second hand grace
And communion bourbon.
This isn't a secret or a confession. It's actually an inquiry. The post directly below got me thinking about how many people outside my group of friends are aware of this site.
You guys don't have to indulge me, but I'd like to know who actually posts on here. So if you post, or even if you're just a reader, leave a comment with your name. Don't say which posts are yours, or what your alias is. Just your name, as a comment.
Thanks,
Heather
P.S. For those of you who read my blog, yes, I finally wrote the confession celebrating the 300th post.
Ok, first of all, I feel like all the people who post on this site are sort of in the same group of friends? Is this correct? I dunno, but I'm just absolutely sure that I'm NOT and I was wondering if the whole anonymity thing is real, or just kind of pointless b/c everyone knows who everyone is anyway?
My tangst is whether or not to tell him. This has been going on for years now. Telling him could ruin things, even our friendship. But then again, not telling him could do the same? Or, maybe just ruin me. I'm really lost here. Andddddd he's not really the "communication leads to a better relationship" type person.
hm.
Anonymous
02:33:53 AM
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Story of my life...
Open Heart
by Kris Lynn
If life's so full of changes,
Why does it always stay the same?
I wanna get out, I cry for freedom,
but I'm stuck in this place I hate.
It's the Truth she's against,
but it's me that she's trying to break.
She is blind to the fact
that our friendship is at stake.
I put myself down,
cuz that's what I've come to know.
If these things aren't true,
then why does she tell me so?
She ridicules, she brings me down,
My emotions run on high.
To the point where in my mind,
I think of taking my own life.
I fight myself and flush the pills,
but then hate myself still, even more.
How could I have come to this place
I've never been before?
Even to this day these thoughts
still enter into my mind.
There's days when I look in the mirror,
and hate is all I find.
Thoughts run through my head:
"I'm beautiful. Why can't anyone SEE?
Will I go through this life without
anyone to love ME?
"I'm searching for someone to love me,
JUST the way I am.
I need someone to listen,
but also understand.
I know that I am young
and have so much more to learn,
But I want someone to HOLD me,
yes this is what I yearn.
All of you cynics out there,
I won't mention any names.
You are probably laughing,
'cause you think that I'm insane.
But YOU grow up without hugs and kisses,
and tell me YOU don't want,
Someone who will hold you tight,
and tell you that you're loved.
Kris Lynn
11:25:15 PM
the summer after 7th grade i met this girl. before i knew what had happened, we were going out and doing all this shit and i thought it would last forever. i really thought i was in love, in a 13-year old kind of way. at the end of camp, she had to go back home and i had to stay here. we promised to stay together and see each other next summer, but within a few months she stopped talking to me. she wouldn't email back or get on IM or answer the phone or anything. i haven't spoken to her since. i've been thinking about her a lot lately and it's really hard not knowing why it happened. i haven't gone out with anyone since, i'm almost afraid to. i don't want to get hurt again, because i'm still not over her completely. i've been trying to find her online but nothing comes up. thus is my tangst.
Anonymous
07:40:40 PM
Friday, January 06, 2006
What Causes Cold?
Welcome, children,
You’ve made it to the world.
But I’m sad to say
That all the autographs have faded
Off the walls.
All the tomes
That you picked apart and analyzed
Were based upon the theory
Of The Loss of Innocence.
And, children, now that you’re here,
You can lose that innocence again
And again and forever.
It’s hard to find what’s lost.
And I’m sorry to say
That all the photographs
Have evaporated up
From their slots on the walls.
Oh, but don’t fret.
The beautiful people,
They still exist.
But you should hurry on up
Before their frail frames die.
Will your end be the same?
Oh no, don’t ask me,
The decision is yours alone.
Just don’t search for salvation in yourself.
You’ll never find the stamina
To be perfect.
I’m sickened to say
That these ravenous ghosts
Will never cease
To search for and strike at your senses.
You see, the weather report
Isn’t the only reason that you shiver.
Do you know what causes cold?
It’s a lack of heat.
Warm up the world, please.
The sun can only shine
On one half at a time,
And while you bask in the sun’s light,
There will always be another child
Saying prayers in the dark.
I’m sad to say
That Marie Antoinette
Didn’t really let them eat cake.
Anonymous
11:29:35 PM
Let me do it my way...
Disclaimer: There is at least one out there who wants to know who I am. Until now, I have been unable to let them see. This post might just reveal who I am to that person, but I am past insecurity. Enough lies have been told already. I just ask that person, if they know who they are, to forget everything but what is here, on this site.
"If you stop, and think, you'll see it."
And now on to my evening angst:
Earlier this year, I lost a very dear family member.
I am greiving, I promise, but just let me do it my way. I don't need you helping me. I am going to get over it eventually.
*the disclaimer and the angst are directed to two different people*
so midterm season is beginning.
he came over but laughed
do you even take biology
he said and i said
no
do you even take biology
he said and i said
no
but ive studied some with
you and i think ill really like
ityou and i think ill really like
he understood--pulled out his
book
book
we opened it slowly
trembling hands at first
and oh it was warm and soft
the soft warm soft knowledge
of biology
was at our fingertips
and we were (are)
so young
i began to pump my hands over the
pages and pump faster and
faster
trying to rub the information out
of your
biology book
i still didn't understand but
suddenly (so suddenly)
it hit me! from behind--
BAM i understood
and the knowledge came
and came inside of me
(it was the shape of an
amoeba, simple protist)
i laughed (weakly) and said
i thought we'd read
some more of the book before
it just
hit
me like that (from behind)
sudden knowledge can hurt
but its a good hurt
and we lay in the warm after
noon after
glow of our sudden knowledge
of biology
and you were a man
and i was not
quite a man (but i
wanted to be, believe
me)
so, here's my angst: i still really like my exboyfriend, i know he's already over the break up, but i really regretted breaking up with him. so i told him, and he doesnt return the feelings, which sucks a lot, but i hope it will be ok...i'm just not sure how i can be normal with him right now, because it still hurts a lot. and i'm really hoping to hang out with him and maybe one day we can start over...? [that's just what i hope could happen] i know it's bad on my part for even breaking up in the first place, but i had a huge stressload and just needed a break, and he took that as "it's over" so right now, i just feel bad. and everytime i see him i just want to hold his hand, kiss him, or hug him or something, but i can't...what's worse, is that he's going to the winter formal with someone else. fuck.
and i know that if i keep talking to my friends about it, they'll just feel like shooting me, or change the subject, or get annoyed, or worse. i just want to get this out of my system to something that will listen to me and read my comments. because i know my computer wont get mad at me for this.
Anonymous
03:51:07 PM
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Even though this isn't my poem, it's still my secret. I was happy when I came across it. This is an excerpt from Blue Spruce by Mark Halliday:
Secondly,--and here's the real charmer
among the attractions of verse:
it's so much easier to write than prose!
Poets don't admit this, of course,
and why should they?
If they're not going to get paid
they should at least be allowed to
milk the public for a little respect;
and in this country people respect work
That's right, I said work,
and no funny business. So a versifier,
in order to win any lasting respect
(beyond the glow of a few chuckles)
has goot to seem to labor.
Yet the secret fact of the matter is,
as indicated above, that verse is no sweat
relatively speaking; because
you don't have to plug all the holes;
in fact you're supposed to
punch out
new ones;
you can leave loose ends dangling
all
over the
bed
the
kitchen table,
your lover's
body
your
parent's lives,
and people accept them as part of your game.
In verse there is no final judge,
and they know it, and you know they know it, and as long as you tie up every fith string,
rougly, your readers and your listeners will imagine
that some of the four strings
are probably tied up, and who knows which?
Oh, it's a fine life, this making verses;
PROSE IS SERFDOM
in poetry the freedom is a blast.
("Blast"... do I mean that metaphgorically?
do I intend some ironic overtone of explosion?
Or is blast here simply a colloquial term
which I resort to for a touch of comic relief?)
Just leave them baffled
and they'll treat you right!
It's so easy when you get the knack,
I could die laughing about it sometimes--
(And there's more, but I'm probably too long already. Anyway, I feel like this a lot.)
Enviro...
I despise Environmental Science.
Quoted from the Enviro text:
"By far the best ways to reduce one's risk of premature [demise] and serious health risks are to (1) not smoke, (2) avoid excess sunlight... (3) not drink alcohol... (4) reduce consumption of foods containing cholesterol and saturated fats, (5) eat a variety of fruits and vegetables, (6) excercise regularly, (7) lose excess weight..."
Wow, I've been getting it wrong for YEARS now. I thought that drinking, eating fried lard, gaining 100 pounds, and baking in the sun for 12 hours straight every day would help me become a healthier person. I ask myself... why am I taking notes on this? This is possibly the most obvious passage I have ever read.
And this makes me want to burn this book: "However, the most important good news each year is that about 99.1% of the people on the earth did not die."
Are you kidding me? I wish that 50% of the world would die each year. (Perhaps not 50%, that might be a bit much.). But I mean, if part of the curriculum you want to relate to your reader is that it's the year's best news that the human race hasn't ended... WHY ARE YOU PUBLISHING TEXTBOOKS??? DAA!
A Hymn for Lost Love, Found Again
As I was out walking, one late lonely night,
Looking for something like love,
A beautiful Lady appeared by my side,
With a loveliness dreams are made of.
She looked in my eyes and she saw through my mind,
She said "I know what you need,"
And she held my face in the palm of her had,
And whispered these words unto me:
"I will love you completely with all that I am,
and I will love you without restraint.
I will love you because of the love I can give,
and not for the love I can take."
She drew me down softly and held me so close,
it was almost a dream coming true.
But as we lay queitly in each other's arms,
something was missing I knew.
Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said,
"If you want all that love can be,
Then just as I've given myself unto you,
So you must give yourself to me."
"I will love you completely with all that I am,
and I will love you without restraint.
I will love you because of the love I can give,
and not for the love I can take."
I woke with a start, in the depths of the dark,
and I found it was only a dream.
Then I realized, as I looked in your eyes,
You were right there beside me.
We were all linked in a loving embrace,
You and the Vision and I.
And I swear by the lesson I learned in my dream,
I will love you like this 'till I die.
I will love you completely with all that I am,
and I will love you without restraint.
I will love you because of the love I can give,
and not for the love I can take.
All for the love I can give,
and not for the love I can take.
I will love you because of the love I can give,
and not for the love I can take.
Here are more words:
"And All Participles Will Grow Weary and Stop"
My pupils have shrunk to a size reserved
For polysyllabic units of measure
I am not paralyzed with fear- this is a
Comatose tragedy
The air sighs relief having dodged screams afire
I am terrified
I pray to anything pure of this life
That I will not falter
Through the floorboards of this remorse
And I shudder to discover
That this pen now
Fails to grant me solace.
Maverick
06:26:07 PM
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Unfortunate Lack of a Poem
I will write on the sky,
With stars for a pen.
I write on a scale
Unknown to mortal men.
I write Homer's Odyssey,
Along with other epics.
Stories that give insight to readers.
I write about the adventures of man.
Stories that give God-inspired motion.
I write about two people.
I write how the with stars in her eye,
Smiles and manages to shiver my spine.
But the smile is not the story here.
There is no romance, she is no Juliet;
It's been twisted and broken since first we met.
It won't matter at all in the long run of things.
There'll be no reminder men eternally sing.
On and then off…
Perhaps it will never
Mean that much to you, reader of these letters.
And you won't understand why it matters.
With this preface, I give a caveat.
This poem will waste your time,
As it has wasted my heart.
You'll lose your place,
You'll put the book down.
Reader beware, there's no story here.
I cry as I write because I know it is nothing
There was no love, or even seduction.
But you won't cry, the story is not sad…
Because there is no story.
There is no epic.
There is no love, there's no affection.
There are only these thoughts of a lonely boy.
Sitting alone they get out of control.
And the love that he wishes for so much.
Is a stake in his heart as he sits with his pen.
With flames for a pen.
With hopes it will cauterize,
And the love there will end.
I write a simple ode,
To a wonderful .
A story set in early October.
I write about trees weeping,
Losing their leaves.
I write about two people.
One of them is me.
She's dead.
I didn't have time to know her, to love her like I should have, and now she's gone, never to come back.
Death is not an issue that we should have to deal with. Don't the powers that be understand that we have enough stress already without having to deal with grief, both ours and others'?
Why was she taken now, when our love had just begun?
"And with a final word of torment the body became but an empty vessel, the spirit to fly forever into a world of paradise beyond imagination."
Farewell my love, and may your spirit forever fill me with your memory.
Anonymous
05:37:31 PM
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
A Good Knight’s Ideal
I’m as sleepless as the New York skyline
And just as weary of the morning fog
Oh! But what an entrance for a sun such as the one outside
The mercurial urbanity of this place will soon be lost
The sun only leads to pale moonlight
So your glow may be glorified throughout the night
And the snow only falls, knowing ahead,
That your brilliance will transform it to dewdrops instead
I will discard my Yankees cap for a tophat
And my scrawl for the cursive
That echoes your curves
I will be the smell before rain
The calm before the storm
Aramaic
A good knight’s ideal
The silhouette of every good thing that has graced this earth.
But never for myself
No, never for myself
Maverick
08:55:41 PM
Now my "Stop" Poem:
Electronegativity
Ions, none, and metal burns
it’ll take your tongue
and leave you with nothing
no hydrogen or hydroxide
in selfish stability
Ionize, ionosphere, and hear the northern lights
If my tooth fell out
would you make me drink vinegar
and would it mix with the blood
like static electricity, electro! negativity
e=mc^2 and the theory of relativity
I can taste the vinegar on my tongue
faster than the jump of an (synapse!) electron
We’re all just byproducts of
our constant, ceaseless entropy
we’re screeching metal. rock and dirt
and to dust we will return because
the universe hates the taste of metal
but loves it when electrons jump
into an early grave.
Anonymous
08:44:02 PM
Monday, January 02, 2006
My First Post of the New Year
Greetings to all in the New Year. Hope everyone had as safe a travel as I did.
I have a question, or a request for advice rather.
How do you tell someone that you love them, I mean truly love them in the depths of your heart, that you can't think of anything but her when she is with you, when you're not sure she feels the same way? What if you're afraid that the relationship you have now will be ruined if you've misjudged her?
I'm caught here, friends. Don't know if the risks outweigh the possible benefits, but she's all I can think about.
Maybe she's out there and she's reading this right now, not having any way to know that it is her I'm thinking of. If so, I hope she'll leave her ideas here, and look for me.
Maybe.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
I just thought I would give you a poem to think about
Trip's Contemplation
She laughs, she moves
Bright lights flash the window
Illuminate her lips
My heart, for a moment, leaps.
She pauses and she smiles.
I miss a beat.
We go on talking, we're having fun.
Our life together has just begun.
How cute when she speaks.
I know that she'll always make me smile.
That 's eyes tugged at me that night.
We walk up her stairs.
She begins to hypothesize.
On things of unknown importance.
Her stance suggests my hope
Her easy glance.
She reaches down and touches my hand.
All the scenarios never equated to this.
I pause for a moment and believe.
Life is love, it isn't pain.
Everything in the world is right again.
or is it...
reality hits.
I'm as always, all alone
Bright lights blind me, remind me
Illuminate the empty seat.
An empty place inside
Like a mouth poised to devour my heart.
I'm just driving, no emotion.
Block it out ****(my name), too much pain.
What could have been... stop.
I can't express the pain inside
I try:
grinding gears, acid-etched, destroy my heart.
I walk to my room
Blurry-eyed imagination of a never-life.
Never knew how much I wanted this before.
Her smile.
I reach up and wipe encroaching tears.
For years I've wanted that
Times before, disappointment.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
I don't know how to help him... he's in a bad place, and it's very real, but what do I know of his world? I'm seventeen and I still live under my parents' roof, how can I possibly understand?
And this just makes me think all the more, that when all of you leave your cushy lives of financial stability with your families, you might not like that fucking bitch Ayn Rand so much anymore.
Anonymous
12:24:41 PM
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
Sunday, December 25, 2005
[Dagny] clasped the metal bracelet on her wrist. She liked the feel of the weight against her skin. Inexplicably, she felt a touch of feminine vanity, the kind she had never experienced before: the desire to be seen wearing this particular ornament.
Rand didn't say, later, how many times she stopped her work to look and marvel at it, or try it on again, against her nice sweater, against her cotton top, against the stretched edge of her baggy t-shirt she wore with her pajamas. She didn't say exactly how it felt, nestled warm against her skin, engulfed in the heat that, surprisingly enough, came from her own cold body (that her fingertips, even in summer, were always silly bits of ice). She didn't mention how strange it looked, atop the papers and stacks of crumpled music on Dagny's dresser, how incongruous with the reality that was not a dream, could not be a dream, would not ever stretch so far into reality that the last trace of doubt that it was, in fact, a fantasy would disappear.
She probably didn't mention this because it would have ended up longer than the Galt speech.
Also, I bet the acting vice president of the Taggart Transcontinental Railroad had cooler pajamas.
Anonymous
09:19:32 PM
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
I gave you my music,
I made your song take flight.
And now, how you've repaid me,
Denied me, and betrayed me.
He was bound to love you,
when first he heard you sing...
That song perfectly describes my situation. I took my dearest friend, lifted her from her depression, made her stop cutting.
Now she's turned on me and left me alone in my own darkness.
Anonymous
03:49:34 PM
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