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Frog Rain [04 Aug 2005|01:08am]
[ mood | distressed ]

I saw MAGNOLIA today with Jeremiah. It was amazing. It was like three hours, and really intense. It would have been even more intense if Jerry hadn't kept nudging me and asking things like, "Is this movie makin' you sad? What's makin' you sad???" ;-) But, anyways, around 12, which is late for me, kind of, (I've been super tired lately) this scene comes on where all these frogs start falling from the sky. Ok..I was getting really into this movie, and I'm gonna admit, there MAY have been tears in my eyes. But...all of a sudden, these fucking frogs start fallin' form the sky, and I'm tired and sad and it's waaaay too much for me to take in. I was freaking out. ::

speaking of FLYING FROGS, check it out. Frog rain is real.
--------> http://paranormal.about.com/library/weekly/aa082602a.htm


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Kurt Vonnegut [02 Aug 2005|04:21pm]
[ mood | excited ]

So, I'm working on a crummy summer school project for Ebglish. Usual deal, pick some books and analyze them by doing some fun projects on x number of sections in the book. I picked, for my 1st book, "Slaughterhouse Five" (which I'm enjoying, by the way, because I'm wierd) and for the first project, you have to illustrate a part of the first section. My fav part is the part about "Tralfamadorians", these really awesome space folk, it is also my fav part in the whole book, even tho I haven't finished it yet.

But, there's a problem. Kurt describes these guys as being "2 ft. tall, suction cups on the ground, and EXTREMELY FLEXIBLE SHAFTS USUALLY POINTED TOWARDS THE SKY, WITH A LITTLE GREEN HAND ON THE TIP WITH AN EYE IN ITS PALM." (goo) So, how, may I ask, am I supposed to draw this? Is there anyone out there that knows any other part of the body that is referred to as a "shaft?" other than the Image hosted by Photobucket.com

I really liek this part of the book, I'll share it with you...

"The most important thign I learne don Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just the way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mts., for instance. They can seee how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is only an illusion we have here on earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string,and that once a moment is gone it is gone forvever.

I cant wait to see Lamy today ^_^


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colours [31 Jul 2005|12:17pm]
[ mood | curious ]

What colour are your winters? What colours have they been.? Mine have been grey and burgundy and solid blue. Grey for suburban snow, all slushy and polluted and sometimes, stained with dog excretions. No, the little kids cant eat it here. But they can eat it on my neighbors little hill, in her backyard, that we used to sled down on the plastic kiddie sleds from department stores, and these wierd boards with a string that you'd hold on to, or not, if you were good. They were kind of like "learn to snowboard" things, where u learn your balance. Burgundy because of my sweaters. I always used to hate layering clothes when i was a kid. My mom is right when she says, "I just dont get it. In the summer, she wears a little coat, when it's so damn hot, but in the winter she wears nothing." She doesn't realize that I just always wear the same things. some kind of top, jeans and corduroys, and jacket of somesort if im elaving the house, maybe this dull coloured zip-up sweater if im chilled in the house. Blue because of my snowboard and all the hip ski-jackets I see in sport shops.

I was thinking the other day, on the train, where did my childhood go? Why did I have to grow up so fast? My art teacher said, "it's like...when kids start out really early with things like ice skating and instruments, and are force dby their parents, or something, to be really good, their childhoods are taken away, like they cant be kids anymore. So, when they're adults, they're really immature. Creative types are also the needy types. I know some adults like those kinds." I'm a creative type, but I wa snever forced into anything, yet I have always kept up with art, at my own pace. So what am I like?

I always remmeber the littlest things, the wierdest things, my mom says, who also laughs when I ask her, "do you remember when" or someone will talk about somebody, and I'll say, "oh, was she the one wearing the blue dress at the wedding." No kidding, that actually did happen. I saw the girl for a moment, and that's how I remembered her. Do other poeple remember these little things too? I rememebr this one time, when I was a kid, I was in my little hiding place in my family room, in the corner close off by the end of the couch, by my toy box, and I accidently started swallowing a marble, and it was in my throat, fighting to get out, and i couldn't, and I was choking, and i was looking over the arm of the couch at my mom, who was on the phone, I remember, and I didn't wanna tell her, because I didn't want to get in trouble, or cause an uproar...no, it was because I didn't want her to get upset and freak me out more, so I decided to just swallow it, or something,and i was trying to swallow it, u kknow move it down my throat, and it wasn't working, and finally, it popped out of my throat, somehow, that, to me, was a miracle, and I didn't tell her baout it until a year later tor something like that.

I wanna let the kid out of me more.

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someone [31 Jul 2005|01:42am]
[ mood | tired ]

::I think I finally get it now, I think I finally understand, how to let myself go. Now that I understand, maybe I'll let it happen. I wonder if I'm just wierd, and that's why I had trouble. I wonder if I think too much. I wonder if I'm weak and cant stand the intense shaking feeling at the beginning, and maybe thought I was just being tickled. I got so close. Only one person reading this will know what's going on, I think. And maybe, if I'm not just wierd, others will subconciously.
::I know what I gotta do with myself, and here's what it is; PUSH AS FUCKING HARD AS I CAN, because, up until now, I've let too much go with the lazy, ebbing flow. All things dont just fall into place. Now that I understand it, why dont I keep up with it? I know what I wanna do with my life. I wanna make things, and I wanna hear things, and I wanna see people and places. That's what's excited me, chronically...it's somehting I never get bored of. Knowing I'm gonna meet someone new, setting up art/music projects, planning vacations out of the country, watching poeple closely, and connecting with sounds; whether they're in my headphones, pouring out of someone's mouth or leaking out of shadows, knobs, plants and burrows in the forest, or coming from space.
::I got this feeling of Euphoria when I was jogging the other day. I had on my headphones, and Miranda July said to me, "The thing about walking is, you never know what's gonna happen. You could get hit by a rock..." and I threw on this beaming smile, as I was walking down the street, laughing to myself, man do I love Miranda July, she's one cool cat.

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