Well, I haven't posted in what seems like years. I haven't really been inspired to write anything, which is really why I'm writing this at all. I'm finally att hat point in my life where I literally get to do whatever I want. There are no "next steps" that I follow because it's more or less what I'm supposed to be doing. Now, I get to decide for myself where I am, what I'm doing, and where I'm going.

I graduated college. This will be the first time in about 17 years (the part of my lfie I can remember) that I won't be a student come fall. It scares me. I make an excellent student.

I'm living at home right now, saving money to move to Denver. I'm visiting September 11th-14th to find an apartment, then moving October 1st. I can't explain how this makes me feel. I just want to get away from here, to get started and begin to t do things on my own terms. I'm very excited to go west, I've always been drawn that way, and now I'm finally following this mysterious pull the western states have had.

I start paying back my loans very very soon. This is much more scary than initially anticipated. There are alot, and going back to school right away is no longer an option. I also am beginning to worry about health insurance. Oh, not to mention I NEED A FUCKING JOB IN DENVER. hahahaha. Leave it to me.

I took the train back from Chicago this weekend after helping Debbie move into her new place. I was alone for 8 hours (jesus fucking christ the train takes forever). I had nothing to do but sit, contemplate, doze, write, and listen to music. I found myself sitting there with all these emotions, feelings, senses and nerves, just under the surface but could hardly write one word worth a damn. I've been feeling so mild lately, I hardly get to FEEL anything. I know I have all this shit welling up, but I'm nearly incapable of realizing and expressing it. It's all been very strange.

My whole life I've been a rather private person when it comes to things I think and feel. Just recently I've been able to discuss things more with my friends. Perhaps this is why I no longer feel the need ot rant and ramble on and on in my livejournal and paper journal about things i'm going through. But, on the other hand, I also just think I'm never as involved emotionally with anything as I once was. I feel like my approach to a lot of things has been luke warm. Maybe it's the fac tt hat I'm moving away and reserving all my emotional investment for this new place, but alot of me can't help but feel scared and child-like in my views of the world. It's really rather hard to explain, my ideas and feeling just don't fit into words like they once did. It's a bit more complex, and perhaps in a sense even much simpler. I just go on, drudge through. I feel like Billy Pilgrim in SlaughterHouse FIve, just kinda coming unstuck in time every once in a while, flowing through my days with a little bit of a glazed over look on my face.

I thought for a long time I felt like this cause I was smoking weed all day everyday, but this is really just how I am. I've been laying off the greeb this summer to try and clear my head, it realy hasn't made too much of a difference....except I cna remember a little more and I'm not as tired all the time.

In anycase, I've been wroking my ass of to try and save up for the move. Money will be tight and I'll be eating Ramen everyday, but hopefully my surroundings and new found freedom will make up for my lack of culinary color.

reckless integration of my life outlook into two weeks of abombinations...and sequential molestations of heroism.


eternal dreamless sleep and infinite dreams.

Aries begins life with the question posed to every solar super hero, "How will you use your super powers?" Aries is here to start something new, to go where no one else has gone and to do what no one else has done. The stars dare Aries to be a pioneer, a champion and a doer. Sexually, Aries has got some naturally hot stuff.

if you don't think this awesome/funny/amazing, and can't beleive you have never thought of this, know i could never love you, but that we may only, possibly be able to be friends.


i just realized michigan looks just like a hand trying to high-five outerspace.



amazing. if i do say so myself.

remember shopping for school supplies? i wish my mom would still take me out and do that with me.

i cut my hair. i was called a pageboy. i love it.

new year, feels pretty much the same as the others....i anticipate a pretty great time.lots of things i want to learn and see. i am slowly becoming a new person, everyday. each morning i wake feeling refreshed and hopeful.





sort of like a romantacized version of a real PIRATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! open seas and treasures abound. waiting to be had, to be discovered and wrung open. for a fierce hand and unceasing will i do possess. ARRRGGGHHHH!

I guess most other people are complaining about finals, so I should. I hate them. I never want to be forced into learning anything ever again. Its my own fault, I waited too long to do everything.

yay for not sleeping when everyone else is.

I actually passed up smoking free pot this evening because I have so much homework. If that tells you anything, it tells you a lot. For as much as I'm supposed to love environmental history, I don't. At all. And once again, Dr. Sacks makes me want to cut her kneee tendons so she can't run or play sports any more cause she is so mean all the time. Not just mean in general, but specifically mean to me. I hate that it bothers me so much, but it konda does. I usually throve on the attention I get from professors outside of class because I think I come of as an honest, likeable person that is interested in school and wants to suceed. Obviously Dr. Sacks sees through my bullshit and I think thats what really bothers me about it. I can't pull the wool over her beady/beaty/small scary/dark eyes.

On the other hand, my other professors are still fooled and I'm doing well in my other courses. So, hopefully the generous 2.7 I'm aiming for in Sack-Attack's class won't hurt my already painful GPA too much so that when I decide to stop avoiding the real world and go to grad school I can get in some places.

I still have no idea what in the world I'm going to do if I don't get into the Americorps. I think I'll move to Portland and start a band. I think drummers are way way sexy, so I'll be a drummer. And rock it out Axl Rose style. What should my stage name be? Something cool, perhaps just one word like "thrash" or something.

I'm totally procrastinating this paper I have to write on how wilderness thinkers challenged modernism through their writing. AND a presentation O have to do for it. Both of them make me want to drop out at an ncredibly fast rate. Especially cause I can hear my high-as-fuck roomate out in the living room laughing and reeling at some dumb TV show.

I think if I do move to Portland the first thing I'll do is buy golashes (sp) and wear them non-stop. Then I'll shave my head. then I'll buy a motorcylce and a drum kit and be the new coolest thing since the word jipetto. I think I'll have people call me that...JIPETTO. Or what if I ahd them call me something clever like "name" and convince people I don't really have one, my parents left it blank on my birth certificate so thats what I am officially named.

I'll need to buy bandannas in every color before I move out there. And some cowboy boots. Maybe I'll just live out of the back of a van like I've always wanted, take baths in the ocean. I would also like to go to vancouver. the pacific northwest has always held my fancy. I think it has something to do with the idea of lumberjackesque people everywhere. I love flannel. and the smell of sweat and wood. and hankercheifs.

I hate THoreau. I cannot easily sum up in a few pages what the fuck he said. Nor do I want to.

Sometimes I wish I could make a living selling things I made with my hands. Little trinkets I could sell to people on the highway. have a little roadside stand, sell produce and an occasional (whatever it is I make) to tourists and hobos. I wish people still jumped trains like the beats. I'm pretty sure thats what I'd be doing f I wasn't afraid of getting raped and/or killed in the process.

I was thinking for a miunte of telling my family I didn't want anything for christmas. Like, not exchanging gifts. It all seems so futile. Then I realized how much my desires are based around consumer culture and smelling nice. I need purfume, and I figured if I was to get one gift, mightaswell get a few more. Or ask for money and save up for a drum kit. Maybe a drum kit isn't the best idea, drums aren't really conducive to travelling. Maybe I'll start a band and play something easy to carry like the harpsichord. Or the trumpet. or the ukelele.

WHen I break up my journal in these little papragraphs with no apparent subject change or anything, does it make it easier to read, or more annoying cause you have to scroll down your friends' pages more? I'm LJ illiterate and don't know how to put pix or like those little links or anything. SO don't ask me to do it. If I'm on your friends list, you can handle being annoyed by this shit.

There is so much else I want to add, but I need to do some work so I don't die tommorrow.

I fuckin dig hot chip. I don't care what any of your fuckers say, I'll crack your skull. Knock your teeth in.

I feel you
Your sun it shines
I feel you
Within my mind
You take me there
You take me where
The kingdom comes
You take me to
And lead me through
Babylon

This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love

I feel you
Your heart it sings
I feel you
The joy it brings
Where heaven waits
Those golden gates
And back again
You take me to
And lead me through
Oblivion

This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love

I feel you
Your precious soul
And I am whole
I feel you
Your rising sun
My kingdom comes

I feel you
Each move you make
I feel you
Each breath you take
Where angels sing
And spread their wings
My love’s on high
You take me home
To glory’s throne
By and by

This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love

Beside the fact that I will fantasize endlessly about having sweet love made to me by Dave Gahan, the Depeche Mode concert was pretty rad. I had some great compnay. there were older songs, newer songs, a good mix of people, and even some Erasure...which was sweet and the crowd really enjoyed, myself included. good times, def worth missing Sack-Attack's class...I'm just interested in seeing what the repercussions are. I need some more mode, someone make me all of their CDs...now.

Dave Gahan is pretty much a sex god and I would like nothing more than to see him shake his sexy, snake-like hips at the foot of my bed as I cover my body with honey.

if the gossip (band) could be humanized, put in legitmate forms as a lifestlye, thats what I would want to be modeled after.

GOXXIP.

take it in, give it up, turn it out.

I've evolved past all this bullshit. Colie and I just had the single deepest, most meaningful conversation I have ever had with anyone, ever. I learned more, and had more escape my mind than I have even come close to. AND WE'RE NOT EVEN HIGH. We are just smart, and what to know why we're here, and what we're doing. I wish anyone else could have been here, it was so amazing. We talked about everything from Nietzsche to the Bible, boddhisattvas, her dad, my dad, Scottish art, autonomy, what it means to be human, and how everything connects, or if anything does at all. We talked for hours, we talked about it all, in such an amazing way as will never be repeated. We made connections, and expressed out ideas in such an incredible way. We leanred about desire, what it means, why its there. Whether or no people design their perception around the world through their desires, or vice versa. I've never had anyone be willing to sit and talk with me, and even to contribute in such a way as she just did. I mean, we didn't agree on everything, but our arguments helped the other, I mean, we helped each other reach a high plane. FUCK. Oh, and we laughed like little school girls, but only at the circumstances of existence, I mean, the usualy shit.

why am i still up?

THE WORLD IS A WILL TO POWER.

UBERMENSCH. thats what I'm getting tattooed on the inside o my wrist I think. Maybe I'll get a picture of neitzsche tattooed on my ass. or maybe I should just get his name somewhere, that would actually be kinda cool, I mean, he does pretty much represent all I want o be and understand, the total package, everything I want to understand, the things I want to will, to exercise. There are so many things I want to learn. I think I can, and then teach them. Out of the back of a van, live on th ebeach, surf in the morning.


I really want sleeves. the more I think about it, the more I want to cover my body with ink. maybe I'll get a half sleeve on the upper part of my arm. I was also thinking it would be cool to devote a whole leg, well, from the knee down to tattoos from my travels. Well, I mean, I'd have to travel more first, do some real travelling that it. Basically its my new passtime, thinking about how to modify my body.


A WILL TO POWER. remember that. it will make everything seem like nothing, and anything that is somethoing, you have complete power over.



take it on, get it in, and turn it out.

does anyone know WHY THE FUCK AIM IS FUCKING FUCKED? its making me angry, I mean, I'm trying to procrastinate here, christ. anyway, if wilderness as an idea could fuck me up the ass right now, it is. I can barely keep me eyes open and I sleep all the time. But, the clash just came on cause I have my music library on shuffle and its making me want to dance around. the library used to be my favorite place, cause I could be sp productive, but since I've developed adult ADD, I do nothing ever. well, I learn about all sorts of things that don't matter to my school work at all. i use wikipedia indiscriminately, i read about all sorts of phiosophy and shit, so I can sound smart, and I really don't have to put the real work in. i want new jeans, and the leather jacket that I was bidding on Ebay for, but didn't have any money in my account to back up my bids. I swear, it was the exact perfect jacket, I'll never find another like it, I've gone thorugh every page they have listed for vintage leather jacket, like 45 pages, and there isn't one jacket there that would match the awesomeness of the first. it makes me want to cry. had I had 500 dollars I would have paid that much, it only went for 182. DAMN YOU RICH CLASSILY DRESSED HIPSTER ASSHOLES. Ill find something, I'm sure, but nothing that awesome. Today, someone in my english course wrote a whole short story, like 6 pages about trying to find a fanta. thats pretty funny, right? Daft Punk is sexy-like.


has anyone seen my Kasabian CD? I cannot find it anywhere. Bitches, who steals my shit, you all know I can't remember who I lend things out to, tell me, now.

sometimes i feel like a bitch, which I sure can be at times, but my roomates just get on my computer all the time, like they asked at first, but now they just do it without asking. and it annoys me. I'll come home from school, or back from whatever and one of them will be in here burning CDs, or talking online, and I have to wait for them to get off. They are usually pretty quick about it, but just now I waited like ten minutes for one of them to get off. it fucking makes me mad, but I just deal with it. I don't say anything because I generally like to please people, I think I derive satisfaction from satisfying others, but there is just something about them sitting at my desk on my computer that makes me angry. Almost to the point where I can feel my face getting hot. Why is that, I think I might have anger control issues, cause if it were vice versa, I think they wouldn't care at all. Perhaps they would do the same thing I am, care, but not say anything. And I guess I really don't even care that they are on it, but its just the fact that I want to be on it at the same time and have to wait even a millisecond. I have another computer that I told them they could have and neither of them has asked me to show them ho to hook it up or anything, they get on my new computer, and make me wait. it would be sort of like loaning out a new car I guess, but there isn't anyway they could really crash it, unless emily spilled something on it, which I would not doubt, she has spilled coffee on my keyboard before. Anyway, I'm annoyed, maybe I'm PMSing. like right now, EMily is waiting for me to get off the computer so she can burn a CD, and I feel pressured to hurry up. RAWR. THis is dumb.


THis is the lamest post I have ever had, and I apologize to all those who read it thinking they would get anything worthwhile. I swear I'm usually not this petty, or annoyed, in fact, I usually have few emotions about anything.


anyways, I just made some hummous and I'm gonna go eat some, bitches.

ok, basically this whole post is about how awesome I am when I drink large volumes of gin, so if you don't want to hear about that, please continuescrolling down.

Friday night consisted of us starting to drink at arounf 730, lots of gin and gingerale. THings prgressed, some people came over, I went o the coffeehouse for a tick, there werre some drugs involoved, but untouched by myself. Then we walked up to the bar along the train tracks, I think there were about 14 of us. We got yelled at by a police officer. I went into the bar and first thing gave this guy, the bouncer, who just got out of jail, but that is cute and plays guiter, my phone number. I had given it to him a few weekes before, but he said it dind't work. So, anyway, we start drinking, I had to only buy my first beer, then I was treated, especially by this townie named everett that had a pump suit on and tipped shoes, and dark glasses, and asweet hat with a feather. So I drank straight form th epitcher h gave me for a while. THen I neded help cause I was feeling extremely full of beers. SO, we get the boot around 130, and start heading back down the train tracks. I get reckless pretty much as soon as we start out the bar. I soon began picking up rocks from the train tracks and throwing them at surrounding buildings, screaming at the top of my lungs, everyone was drunk, so they all just laughed and didn't make any effort ot save me from what could have easily been a night in jail. I think I want to spend a night in jail before I graduate, it would be sweet. Anyway, we continue down the tracks, tipping some giant boulders, me ranting on and on about bo brown, and police, and then just screaming at all the people I see, anywhere, for anything. We get back to the apartment, people gather in the bedroom, I pick up like 7 or 8 CDs in their cases and smash them on the floor I'm all sweaty by this point from screaming, I have a headache, and I want to be as destructive as possible, but not in a scary way, in an uncontrollably funny fashion. I rip up a notebook with some thesis notes in it, to no avail, my wrath continued. I went out to th eliving room for what I thought was gonna be a cool down time. Then i saw the pumpkin and it made me extremely mad. So, i got up to drink some beer and regain my composure, to no avail. I picked up the pumpkin and threw it down the stairs, smashing it everywhere, and then kicked the peices out the door. Then we smoked a couple joints on our porch, and some gilrs walked by I apparently did not like cause they didn't know about goonies. So, I heckled them in a very friendly manner for a while. Then they got pissed, so trav and myself started an insult war. They couldn't see us, so they really didn't have much to say. there were some fat joked, I made fun of them for wearing super tight jeans and giant sweatshirts. Then trav said the funniest thing ever, "Your parents got divorced cause they didn't even like you." And I couldn't stop saying dude. So, then tra said they were, "just alright" which in the correct context is the meanest thing to say to anyone ever. and then they wanted to fight, this kid pulled out some brass knuckles to try and give me to punch one of them, I couldn't beleive he just had the knuckles on him. So then we went up stairs and the girls continues to yell things up to our window until we turned the lights off and laughed rolling on the floor. Basically the next hour was occupied by me trying to tell everyone stories and not fall over drunk. I ate a blueberry bagel. THen everyone's bitch ass passed out, so I tried to sleep,. yeacked up some bagel and passed out on the bathroom floor for a while. SOmetime in the middle of the night got back into my bed, which I don't remember, and slept till morning when I got to wake up and hear about everything I did the night before. most of which I only had a shoddy, blurred mess of images to represent. but, I had an I excellent time, and spent all of saturday relaxing. While I was at denny's eating breakfast the bouncer called me back and I didn't know what to say or anything, so I just never called him back after saying I would. whatever, he just got out of jail.



and that my friends is what gin, the promise of being arrested, and some kids that carry around brass knuckle make me want to be, a reacklss sonuvabitch that wants to fuck everything, and anything.

if you've ever even slightly cared about where we came from or who we are pick up the 11/05 Natural History magazine. Its all about evolution and Darwinism. Its one of the most empowering things i have ever read. It makes me want to fly a kite. On a thin string and call it magnolias. Engineer plants from living organisms exercising their will to beleive in the power of abominations. Things we can't see or feel or narrate to another audience. Maybe that who books on demand cycle could work if anyone cared about real intelligence and cooperation between humans. THe kinds of exchanges that happen on a second level of regret, or urgency. Maybe then we'd smile at the idea that all is not really as it seems. If only only people could see past the dust they let settle on their dreams. If all one can do is laugh at the circumstances and subscribe to the fears, I find them wanting. The beauty and the transendence of pure chance is my brother, fear an intimate friend, for I find her lonely and without the joy of forgiveness. Fear is merely time assumed to be serious and exact. When in reality, if there is such a thing, fear is dressed up in the clothes of poor self esteem. When one tends to find themselves in the company of strangers life is at its most refreshing, for in the haze of the unknown one is given the chance of self-assuredness, the confirmation of what one is. In the face of fear lies only a reflection, a mirror image of fear itself. That image is something no person should look away from. I have watched and worried, and now I see fear for what she really is, a magnification of everything I lack, a simple negative of existence. In my reflection there is only fearlessness, pure, unadultered freedom of existence. Descaralized? Yesterday when I was walking to class I said outloud to all the passersby…what are we doing? Is the chance of coincidence just a calculation of how random things can really be? If you had to be a place, where/what would you be? What does it matter anyway? You’re a place. I heard the school kids trying to justify their misbehaviors outside. They screamed and tumbled out of good graces hen they let the wonder of things go. Its one mistake that changes the world around us. It puts the shades over th sun of being alive. Hahah, its cliché that wrings the best intentions out of what people mean when they say, I meant it in a serious action. Satisfaction and irony. What if there is a fire? Then they began to laugh like hyenas at the moon shadows.