There is no such thing as a clear mind.

If there is no time, there is no life; there is a moment, if not moments. With time, there is life.

quite right

I haven't written in a while, so allow me to update my life.

I could tell you that today was just another average day, but I would be bluffing. Today I interviewed a new friend named Rob Max who is the executive director for this awesome non-profit organization called Sweet Relief. The musicians fund helps musicians who are struggling to make ends meet while facing illness, disability, and age related problems. I learned so much about those lives who are affected with MS, Multiple Sclerosis, and others like Lester Chambers who is facing both illness and age related problems. We had such a fun time on set and working with a few classmates who were directing, shooting, and editing.

Broadcast journalism is an interesting place to be. I've been involved with theatre in the past, but working on a set or in a studio is on a whole different level. I can truly state that I have improved my on-camera confidence from when I first stepped foot into this class. This interview lasted about three minutes after a few run through rehearsals. Not one nervous drip of sweat, but then again I was shivering in the sixty degree overcast while wearing a sheer black dress. I don't know if I'll take any more television classes in the future, but I am grateful for putting this one on my schedule because I have a better taste of what the industry is all about.

Look out world, for I have picked up some confidence keys. I came into broadcast journalism thinking the class would help me be comfortable and relaxed in my own skin as well as public speaking skills. Better late than never right? Today was my last day in the course, and I can honestly say that I stand an inch or two taller. Every individual in the class is talented and beautiful. I suppose you ought to be to be in front of the camera, eh?

I also look up to a certain individual. He is quite handsome, yet, very intelligent and confident. The first thing I notice about a person is how he or she carries themselves. Stand tall, be polite, remain thyself.

xo

Mamma Mia!

ours

Begin looking for an escape. I want to leave so that I can feel the need to see you again. I don't feel anymore; I'm numb.

Listen to the words.
Brush it off your shoulder.

Sometimes it sucks to know how to not suck up. That doesn't make you wronged, either. P.S. This is all via text. P.S.S. I'm sleeping upside down. Sanity, check.

It takes more effort resisting in doing something than rightfully doing it.

untitled

To quit writing would be inhuman; to quit writing would make one seem almost alienated. I have not quit writing. In order to conjure my spirits once again, more over, I would like to take the time to appeal for my wrong doings. Which, you might ask? Any, is my answer. No specifications, no more little details-although those will be missed-no more of this bull shit. No more. Regardless of what anyone will say, today will be a worry-free day.
Thinking light and in the most simplistic terms.


Buenos Nachos, Buenos Dias.

Right here

For one moment, daydream. Sit and imagine you have not one thing to do. Not one crumb on your slick plate. Not one. No matter where you are, do it. Do it as you read this, and consume yourself into my words. You can hear nothing but my words. My words are the only thing you know. Listen. Listen to the rain. Watch the way is falls. Watch the pattern dripping from your roof top out the window. My blinds are closed, two are peeking out to the sky. My eyes go beyond the sky. The world is transparent. Nothing is in my way. Focus. Count how many drops heard every moment. Your moments might be longer than my moments. My moments might be longer than your moments. Look straight through your shield, and to the trees. The hallow roots stand in sorrow. My lamp is dim. My desk, scattered in letters to NY. "The distance is only physical, my love," written on the back of the envelope where my saliva and banana yellow paper meet. My kitten, lying under my office chair sound asleep, as my left foot is folded under my right so that I don't hit her by fault. What lay between the keyboard and my soul is a to do list as following: clean room, find journalism photos for interview, choose psychology research topic, study for journalism test on Wednesday, Bonnie and Clyde?, letters to lovelies, and create a birthday wishlist. What a net. As for tonight, I choose between an a cappella show or a symphony for extra credit. Either way, it's going to be a nice night. The rain is much calmer now. Are you still here? Look up, at the ceiling, or at the stars, whatever time it may be while you read along, and smile. You don't need a reason to smile. Do it. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Have a wonderful day. I'm always here for you, as cliche and misused as that saying is.

What? What!? What.

     I'm certain we all ponder about the subject, and to ponder a moment overtime would just knock me to the right as an assassin would shoot his victim in the head. I cant take it. Why must we choose one thing in life to be our life? Let’s dive into this. It’s on every college student’s mind, every high school and even middle school student’s twisted mind. How must we go to school to begin learning about something in specific and mere detail that we must spend the rest of our life with, depending on that one skill to give us life?

     Life can mean multiple things. Life is not just getting by, life is survival. Life is breathing, life is getting you to that 45-minutes-stuck-in-traffic-meeting, a delicious piece of pie, a runner’s high, blinking, nervous habits such as swallowing your saliva, tears of “joy,” and “sorrow,” a breath of fresh air in the white man-made snow, a bruise on the right knee cap, a crooked tooth getting shaved at the dentist’s office on a Friday evening, feeling relief after using the restroom, giving birth, falling in love, a punch in the shoulder, a blow of a kiss, a pump of the heart, curling your toes, biting your bottom crusted lip waiting to buy a new chapstick, failing a test, REM sleep, intuition, a physical distance, a physical appearance, a decision, a dreamer’s nightmare, a nightmare’s fantasy, and so on and so forth. Life; it’s a gosh darn fill-in-the-blank.

I feel as if reading a novel or a poem is like having a conversation with the author; the reader being more of the listener, unless markings define responses.

Do it so that you have stories to tell, and make them ridiculous. Make them so unbelievable. Make them real.

Have you ever payed attention to the street signs, the ads, the song coming on the radio, that... episodic feeling of rejoice and fidelity? What about the ease off your chest, that sleeping melody, the feeling of balance, of being in, here, fully aware and what about stability? Always question yourself inside. Always ask yourself how you can better a moment, a wish, shoot-even an outfit.

And maybe it's over-analyzed. Maybe there's nothing there. No signs, no meaning, no reason. We just are what we are.

life on paper

Aside from that anger-at-my-fingertips-like-fire-from-Ang-the-Avatar, if you look at my life on paper, it looks like a sweet cookie took a bite out of Mr. Bitter. What I mean is, it looks and sounds incredible, if that isn’t too dolled up to say great at the least. It doesn’t feel that way. Allow me to pour you an example like a glass of water.

Last Friday: Laguna Beach with a good friend, bought an outfit, watched the sunset.

Saturday: Gene’s bonfire, made some new friends, crashed two weddings with Marwa, a midnight treat of In-n-out

Sunday: Babysit, watched a movie

Monday: Relaxing day

Tuesday: Nice school day, Disneyland for the rest

Wednesday: Filmed in journalism, looked kind of awesome, yes

Thursday (today): Happy Veteran’s Day to all! Furniture shopping, met so many people, added a stack more of business cards to my collection of my aunt’s indecisiveness, and continued hitting up a dozen stores, passed out, finished some homework

Friday: Class, culinary run with Kayla, counsel apt, Jamie drop-by, Jess date for the evening

Refreshing, isn’t it? So it seems, until you chug it away, being left with a stomach ache.

My cuppa tea is to ease this all away and look at the simple things. Let's just relax and sleep on it. Let it go. I have been really good about taking myself out of a situation and thinking, "Just watch. Don't fret." Seeing slow actions from afar. Provoking thought. Creating a more tense walk yet a less frustrating sight and a stern time on heart beats. 

Oh yeah, and you could totally stalk my life with this oh-so-not-detailed schedule. Maybe. Possibly. Definitely maybe. I wonder if any of my professors read my blog..

Thrill me, don't bill me

Tomorrow’s horoscope: Friday, November 12, 2010

You're wasting your energy, Sagittarius, and you know it. You go out to dinner, attend parties and shows, but you're never really present. You listen to people but what they're saying doesn't interest you in any fundamental way. Yes, you're bored, and you're afraid to admit it to yourself. The depth of your inner search requires that you use a lot of energy to reexamine your life.

How do you know?! Listening to someone else, or a computer, rather, allows me to see the truth. How sad is that? I am bored. I’ve been bored with life. I seek out adrenaline-pumping situations that I wouldn't ordinarily do, things that would get me in trouble, things that aren’t like me. Instead of attending a few of the bundle parties I get invited to, I crash a wedding. Instead of watching a popular television show with I’m-ridiculously-good-looking ‘actors,’ I sneak on a set of the show being filmed. Instead of watching the drunks run into the water along the sea’s side, I’m running with them (sober).

I’m so tired and so bored with my life. It screams change, but I don’t dare open to door too much, just peek a little so that I can feel the slight breeze. It’s not enough. I need full action. Full on ridicule that allows me to wake up the next morning saying, instead of thinking, “Fuck yeah, I did that.”

This didn't change. Your perspective changed.

There's just so much out there. If only we all just... look up. We are not alone. That's why there's 6 billion of us out there, right?

Think about when you look back at this moment. "What if" isn't an option. Spread love. Pay it forward. Every moment counts. Look back smiling with no doubt.

Questions provoke thought. Thoughts provoke reasoning, intuitive flow, waves&length of energy, a knock on the heart's door, a tap with expectation.

Stop dreaming. Start creating.

I don't know what I'm practicing for, but it's something magnificant.

Hey world

Do ya miss me? I've sobbed, breathed, tasted, sensed, listened, heard, bruised, and spit bitter sweet moments lately. Today, I relax and dream of the inspirations I push myself toward. The future always has some goodies in store, but why not create some more?

Just baked some cinnamon rolls. Another sweet moment.

Redundant tea sipping, to find my voice that has been lost for a couple days. Bitter moment.

I'll color your sky.
Let's just all breathe together.
Heart breakers get their hearts broken. The only kind of karma that makes sense.

You don't say goodnight anymore

Too busy to write? Too busy enjoying, actually. Writing, yes; just not here.
Life is sweet, in case you're wondering.

'healing my throat, choking my neck with a giant scarf, and burning up on multiple levels. i hate writing because my english teacher . i hate thinking about what i'm going to say. i have become paranoid. i do it to myself. i can't sleep without waking up with a tooth ache. i am sick of having a social life. i need to think for myself. be with myself. actually move myself. will it happen this time? venting is preventing me to vent. staying simple because bill says so. stop pushing me. its one of those days where i give up. i dont care. push me around and forget about it. it was a dazed dream and i didnt stop it. i dont know and you dont care. or you care too much that makes me not want to care. what are you doing anyway? why me? spit it out and treat me like royalty and mean  it. i want my room back. i want my dream. a dream. i have no dream. once you tell, its not a secret. i am not in love with anything. how am i supposed to go through life without knowing what love is, what im going to be, what i want to be, first; where i want to go and who i want to be with. what is it? i dont know. i dont know what im giving up on because i have no love. i have nothing to lose. i have no reason to wake up. no self motivation. no real dream. i don't care about a thing right now. lately. im only using my right brain. my senses. my legs. and no drive. no driven life. so what does this mean? open your eyes, widely and stay still. blunt. what is it that you feel? thinking and feeling are different. sanity, that's just telling yourself you are okay. we are not okay. we are never okay. okay seems to be bland and normal. what is life? what is love? what is it, that i want?'

Wowza.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/genkidavid/5035217027/

It's in the bag

Cross my path, I'll make you laugh.
Oh, life is what ever, where ever, as long, short, and as great as you please.

Cute guitar boy, you're on my radar. Here's to document the day I opened the door for you. Not literally speaking, of course. Let's see how long it will take us to become friends.

Now let's rise our glasses (punch and wine) and sing sing sing to where we want to shine. Let's smile at those who we'll never see again until they die. Slap high-fives to those in need, dollars in between. Creme and light, not in spite of anything. Just be, be be and take it, give it, anywhere and everywhere. No where could be somewhere.

So, let's just breathe in this miracle that brings us together, no questioning variables to bring. And don't collapse when you lean, we'll keep you knitted, tight and clean. Classic and natural, it's real. Teal. No deal. Squeak in honor of Jolly. Squeal. No holidays. Everyday, celebrate. Holidays should be highlights. Everyday isn't memorable, as much, but don't be afraid to create holidays. Moments withing moments. Magic.
Make magic.

And when our crystal glasses click and ring, white pearl smiles in delight. Scout first. Sip. Breathe. Don't stop. You cannot stop. Not until you walk away. I hope that one wouldn't stop breathing when one walks away.

Au revoir, the night is young.

sardines

Always thank the ones who got you to where you are today. Sent some e-mails out to former teachers.
I may not be known by the world, but that doesn't make me a nobody. We are each a somebody.

I was just sipping my Yogi tea in the living room with sweat pants, hair up, chillin' with no make up on, and watching the new MTV's "World of Jenks." Andrew Jenks, brilliant idea cooker-upper, went into the life of a rapper this episode. He chose Maino, and behind all the partying, girls, and successful lifestyle, his true stories are what keeps him strong and driven. "I've come a long way." We can all say that, at one point in time, sure. But experiencing someone else's life, rather than hearing the stories, is a whole new level of spontaneousness, if you will. You were there. You saw the police pull up. You saw the drug attics and the poverty.You heard it. You felt the chills. You even have stories of your own. And now, you keep on, from "hell and back," and sign on those autographs for those who look up to the true you, and not just the image. If that was a story about just one rapper, imagine everyone else's story. Yet, don't just imagine, think deeply. What would it be like to wake up as them in the morning? That is the question. You're not doing it because you have a body and life of your own. Imagine. Imagine all the people in the world, one stereotype at a time, as all the labels erase after breathing with their lungs and blood pumping with their heart.

Listen to your body.

At the end of the tea bag, my fortune said, "Live in your strength."

Today I will not think about the s word we all attend.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vE7iNpH97Ls
Could it be; this inspires me; to save my mon-ey; and go to NYC.
New Year '11. See all you beautiful people there.

18 in December. Sky diving was/is my goal.

Love can spread so far.
It's a hefty hefty thing.

koolmaybenot@skhool

Think visually, and define your "cool."
Ready, set, go.

twist

I write about being afraid of having writer's block.

I wrote a kick ass letter yesterday. It was one of those letters you write and never send out. It just couldn't get to you, darling. I was with you in spirit. I sent my vibrations your way. I sent you my love and my light. You caught it. I know you did.
Waves.

Keep a blank page open and listen.
Or keep twistori.com open on your home screen, and leave it there all day. My current favorite place to see what YOU are doing. In a non-stalker way, of course.

Looking out from your shoes makes everything crystal clear. Tie the laces, you might just be filled with fear.
Be be your love.

Maybe not having it so much makes me love it when it comes. Maybe if I moved to Alaska it wouldn't be the same. Oh, rain and gloom.

sidenote

Make a list of all those you look up to, and why. See where it goes. I'll tell you what, mine are majority men.

un-pause my heart

There are a few things about fasting I have learned and overcome this year. It isn't just about the cleans of your mind, soul, and body; it's about learning about yourself through your actions and through your mind. I've seen myself resist on things I know I don't need, but want. That's the fine line. There are also things subliminally involved. Say, a blessing in disguise. I've gotten sick, I've been knocked down, and I've been nervous and worried about my health, and survival. Let me just say that it's not only fasting that has gotten me through. Watching The Karate Kid reminded me that as well. He was so scared, he gave up so many times and completed the brilliant movie on his own. I wouldn't say brilliant, but getting up so many times after getting hurt surely was. I have also learned that working hard to the point of being fatigued, if so, brings upon a heavy amount of respect amongst yourself. Getting that triple digit pay check was exactly how Mr. Nguyen-student teacher sophomore year-said it would feel like. "There is nothing more exciting than that." The first pay check. Knowing what you had sacrificed for it, regardless of being treated like a piece of meat (I was an extra in a film, don't worry) it payed off. I know what work feels like. And I'm not afraid of it anymore. I would like to work, because with that reward, I can get what I want. I have yet to know what to use it on, so I save it tucked away in my wallet. This is the truth. This is speaking strongly with my heart and my words might not be as bold and defined as I usually attempt them to be, but it's simple and deliberate. The adrenaline will rush as I find my way. I may not be balanced to where I want, but I don't know what that balance is. I will not search for it, because searching will make you blind. Let balance find me.


I start class tomorrow, so I am nervous for it and also excited with the courses I chose.
Listening and breathing will help me slow my roll and become intuitive and more wise. Looking back at that day on set makes me realize that you don't have to wait to make that move or better yet, you don't have to be hear if you don't want to be. So just go home. Or stand your ground and stay strong. With all that we did, we made fabulous friends and had a bitter sweet (and sweaty) time grooving on that 80s dance floor. My first "never ending" prom, and possibly my one and only. It was special.

My counselor had noticed as I told her myself, "I like to work in different environments and do different things each time." Having a wide variety of what I adore makes it a lot easier to love but a lot harder to choose. Doing different things gives you more feeling, and self control, about what you're getting your head into, and what you do not know. Just go. Go with the flow.

Nothing is stopping us.

There are so many beautiful people in the world, why doesn't it have to be the way you want it to be? Excuse that, let me try to clear that. As I pour this analysis in a straight line of letters, I am visualizing my "lover boy" (joke) on set. Crew member. He was beautiful, and the lock of eyes was enough for me to remember and keep to myself, as much as I wanted to break out and find a way to learn his name. "Look at me, I'm adorable!" I stated to Aaron, the one who pulled us into the set off the bleachers. NJ look-alike with a hint of Scott, both Scotts I know. "You know what I need." He shyly mimicked. I laughed, "I'm going to be a smart girl and walk away now..." Back to the dance floor. Spencer, the pretty blond girl gave me good vibes. Dane Cook laughed at my "Get it get it!" fist pump when we were all supposed to mouth "Verge!" Satisfied enough.

Q: What makes you different?
A: What you think about yourself.

Think about it.

It's in the air, the kindness. No. It's everywhere. Still. "Being still and doing nothing are two different things." I smell cinnamon. Pumpkin pie. Think you've had enough yet? I actually know what I'm talking about right now. I speak through coated days of being  unemotional and set them straight here. Christmas time, I want to be ready for it, prepared this year. I want a job so I can satisfy myself with all that I spend. Those bulk grey shoes from ForLove, or maybe sandals from H&M with some wool socks, that yellow thick knitted scarf, that Zara messenger bag, all that jewelry-especially that chunky necklace, and so on and so forth.
"You should wear that outfit on a regular basis. Maybe if those trousers were more fitted." Oh, sweet sweet Robby boy who I wish to have spent more time with.

On to sugar coated days like snow in December, and on to making friends with fresh faces and feeling. On with the cold and sun-peaking through the leaves days of walking tall and not neglected. On with vocabulary. Un-pause the quotes and wit, bring freshness and scarlet love letters, on with you you and you singing to me, on with being a good friend, on with seeing random acts of kindness, on with simple and happy thoughts, on with being tranquil. Letting guards down because there is not reason to have it up if you know yourself enough.

The last text I got from a wise man went a little something like this, "...just don't let the bad tear you apart."

I might be able to imagine all the good and see the dreams spawn with a timeline, because I know it's happening out there. Right now, I lay still, hoping to feel better soon. Because the fear won't tear me apart. Because we're conquering it. I. I will do it. We all have to do it. So I can look back and know I did it the way I wanted to.

I do what I do, but not for you. For me.

x

the quantum of physics. statistics. science. no, chemistry. is the variable of 'x' equivalent to the dreamer, or thus the dreamers prey? the x does not let you sit down and feel the chemistry, the rushing butterflies to the stomach. no. the x does coexist. yes, there might be a remainder in the prey's eyes, thousands of pairs of eyes, yes. but no, the formula of x is to take it when it comes, let it go but not give up. and be active, get up and be inspired to do what it takes, but never fully understand it. x is not an equation, it's a critical life question. it's a hard piece of evidence, of gravity and magnetic prestigue. it's strong. it's not easy, but it's not a strategy. it's different on every paper, in every book. in every recipe. it's whatever you want it to be. it could be in the wild, it could be in your head, it could be living next door to you. x is passion. x is love. x is you; whomever you are.

Why settle for something less, when you could work a little bit harder for the best?

pause

Required skill for being a good person: listening.
Practice listening, but don't overwhelm. Be a listener. All you have to do is hear, a natural sense we were given at birth. Just listen. Pause. Right now. Listen. Listen to everything that surrounds you. Open the door for someone, but don't wait for a "thank you." In my mind, I say, "you're welcome" whether they speak or stay mute. Their heart went to yours and  gave it a hi five. Maybe just a pump, a stomach drop. Listen to yourself, breathing, thinking. Don't think about thinking, just listen. Listen to the world that you don't hear, the one that's not around you. Listen. Far away, across the globe. Imagine. Listen to the words said, but not just said, processed and sounded out in a certain way, with a different accent. Sing, high and low. Listen to the silence of the night while it's still day time. Smell and salivate over your favorite desert that isn't in front of you. Listen to the energy, the prized moments of glory. Listen to the book you threw to the side last night while you drooled to sleep. You're listening to others when you don't know it. Tune-outs do not exist, all but a mind trick. Listen to things you don't want to hear, so that it's easier to cope with when that time comes. Capture air in a bottle. Capture a set of eyes, smiling eyes, on a walk to the park. Give your actions simply. Take action with just a look. Make it easy, simple, better. Listen. Hear the strumming in your mind. Feel the cold chill of air when you're frightened with adrenaline. Rub your palms. Are they soft? But I got you to listen, to hear the smoothness of the sound of friction on your skin. Chatter your teeth when it's not cold. Uneven? Mine too. Listen. Listen to your charismatic self come up with interesting conversation with that favorite person you have. Now sit up straight, don't lean back on your chair. Listen to your body. How do you feel? Better? Stop. Dream. Listen.

Wash. Me. Out.

Writing is the ultimate addiction. I'm a chain writer. Don't be fooled, this blog is nothing; I don't show you my freelancing, I don't show you much. Just tiny pieces. This, this is my warm up space. The space where you babble and gibber and throw it all up until the ultimate structure comes to mind.
Peace and emptiness, serenity, and a big smackaroo. My mind is set on simplicity, just as I was born.

"The general journal entry"

"I took off my nail polish, except I only had enough remover for one side. Didn't realize how hard this kind was to get off. My hair, is in a braid across my head. Everything else falls down, messily and fresh and so clean. My messy hippie do. Chuck Taylors are too classic and comfy. These are a teensy weency larger than my size, but all is well. Old Indian blouse, and jeans I haven't worn for over a fortnight. They fit so well, they're just right."

Who reads that ish?

So I sit around, nocturnally wondering what a gal like me does. What do you do? What do people think you do? Besides seemingly having a crazy schedule and always on the go, yet, still breathing. Breathing without knowing you're okay. Because you are just fine, but the outside makes you everything but chilly, you want to hide, bear away from it? From them? They won't bite. I feel as if the way I type is like playing a piano, with my Adele playing so smoothly, so softly in the dimness of my tiny space. It's like my Pandora is my subconscious. It reads my mood, that mood-reader. "Just breathe" plays now, and suddenly I sulk in sadness.
I think it's time to get out of this box of a page. Today was a good day. Day one of Ramadan, owned!

How about that?

Nah.

the un in pun

Purify the unpure.
Prove the unproven.
Popularize the unpopular.

It's changing. Or, is it?

tiresome

Written last Thursday, July 29th.
I sometimes feel as if my mind is so unadjustable, unflushable, and crooked that it may seem as if it stands hallow.

My mind's a template I cannot unfold.

Let us dip our feet for a taste, but not get our bodies wet. You pull in, then pull out of the subject just as easily, just as quickly. Get your feet wet. That’s all. Pull out. Interest. Then flee. No lead. That way, you get a taste of everything. And have the time to do it.

I want to know everything.

Just like drunken thoughts. Or when you cut off your knee caps. You cannot stand up. Drunken thoughts so timid and full of realism. I have never had a drink in my life.


I hardly blink. What a disguise.

...swim

Side note:
Take just about every single opportunity.

“Never frown, because you never know when someone is falling in love with your smile.”

swirl

First thought:
We are human, we are born to be complicated.


And thrust:

Okay let’s begin with something large. We are human, we’re born to be complicated. A brain. No, break it down further. The nervous system, the air, no, no no no, the molecules, the cells, the absence of mind, the gravitation system, the light, the sequence, the rubbing of not our hands together but air in between, the float, the questions amongst deliberate and redundant answers and no where near truthful insight. The killers. The survivors. But aren’t we all killers? Don’t we all die? How is one chosen to live on, through complete sources? How is It done, how is complication simplified, how do we speak, what is speaking, what is what? Where is where? Is sound really traveling? How does it echo in silence? Are we really wrapped tight? Why colors? Who dropped the ‘u’ in ‘favorite’ and who created the fan? Swirling air holes and delinquents. Who invented the loop? Who is who, and why is why? We don’t know. We don’t know. We don’t know. We don’t know. We don’t know.

We don’t know.

We don’t know. We don’t know we don’t know we don’t know we don’t know we don’t know we we we don’t know we don’t know we don’t know.

Is ignorance really bliss? Is it really?

Now say it with me, aloud:
"I don't know."

[thursted, no edits, 1.5 minutes, mind boggled and let on the loose yet inspired by Christopher Higgs]


Sound: syn. wrapped tight.
I don't think like this, I do this on purpose. I know control. I don't bite.

Sounds of the sounds

One person's junk is another person's treasure. This may be true. However, one person's ignorance is another's knowledge. Feed yourself.


Okay, so maybe I didn't go out tonight as my horoscope had insisted I do, although, I've had reluctant yet enjoyable exchanging of words about deep sleep, dreams--OBEs, Astral Projection, Autoscopy, etc, book reviews, scripts and production, Celine Dion, dancing, and burglars. Now if that isn't enough, I don't know what is.


Snail mail has yet captured my soul and left it in the post office. I need more stamps.

I'm not one to follow these accordingly. But you can't blame them, everybody's different.

This time, it hit the bull's eye.

buttermilk and chocolate silk
the dry cleaners charged me for that. Two more days.
more. less. this week is a zest. truly it is.
the plans aren't plans. they are sweets. they are goodies. bitter goodies with no heaves or turns. sweets and beats the crap out of my time.. alone. ouch. it still continues to gurgle. it dfsdjfsdnfkjsdnf.]

back to normal, begins now.
*Reprocessing*

G: Good day.
L: Have a nice one.

Render

If pain is in the mind, then let's stop listening and believing there is such thing. We will be numbed from our emotions undergoing no feeling or sense of self destruct. No paying for the cost. No gripping the "ungrippable," the "grippless." Now, I write to you, reader, because I am distracting myself from feeling this jaw drilled pain. Pain so deep that they had to give me 11 shots to numb my face. It's been 5. It's been 5 days. 7 pieces in, a few replaced, and waiting out for the strong point of delivery to be, well, delivered. Utterly and completely. With not hesitant truth, but with the mere silence of soliloquy. If you have read to this point, I dare you to stop. Stop reading. Distract yourself, just like I'm distracting my emotion. Go on, carry on with your life. You know, if you continue reading, you are bringing me to life. You are in the future from this post text. You are The Future.
I am The Past.

Passed

(passt)

Past.

The Past.

So, come find me, and knock one in lightly. Don't wake them, they don't know what they're listening to. Go on, live dreamlessly in reality. See where it takes you. Because if you don't have an open mind, you have not a clue of injustice of my words and syllabus. Nothing close. Probably just gibberish. If you do, indulge in the meaning of this distraction, that makes one of us.

Below negative

How do we know that we want to get out, get out and see everything else? All but a mere function, a mere spark we each have programmed some place, some place hidden? I think, maybe, we want to travel, we want to see the world, see outside our bubbled boxes.. because we're a little bit naive. In the very best way. Because we don't know. We don't know what's inside of us, thereofre, we want to explore what's outside of us. Because, maybe, just maybe that will help define us. And maybe it doesn't. Or maybe we get inspired, too, moves by all the things around us. I know that's true. We might know it subconsciously. But is what we like to call "inspiration" really recycled, or is it planted from another idea, or literally brought out of this world? I suppose there are very many ways to see this theory, if you'd like to call it that. I'm intrigued. And questioning ourselves. Well, that's just normal. Confusion. Exhale. Cooperation. And a love for moments. That's risk taking. Maybe we won't remember here. Maybe we'll remember it. Or, maybe just ourselves. And maybe it doesn't matter. But we do, I think. We do matter. We feel it. We see it.
We know it.
I know it.

JGL inspired

I think it’s harder to say what you are, what you love. It’s easy to be like, “I suck,” and give up. Giving up is throwing the idea away. It’s obviously harder to define yourself and find your bright areas because right now, we don’t know what the hell we’re doing. Maybe we’re all not doomed. So, why not make the best of it? “There’s a lot of good fun stuff going on. Let’s give it a shot.”

If I could talk about writing so easily, then I wouldn’t have to write.

What happens...
in the architecture of the human mind?
How is it built, what is built, what is destroyed, what is it?

I was born in the winter, therefore, the sun resting it's full rays on me gives me no justice but to be nocturnal.

I squint my eyes in its flashing light. My mother blames the sushi.

sweet&sour

What is beautiful writing?
"You'd never hurt the girl because she stands for more than your life."

"We touch the water with our feet
just a little bit
but never too deep to fall into it
so we can pull out real quick

you can ask me what i know
i'll silently nudge you into nothingness
i'm deeper than the water you touched
you'll have to save me from my drowning thoughts

with you, i will float."

I left my window open and this is all that flew into it, over a spree of five hours. I'd type. Minimize. Type. And change the sequence of things.

And he wrote,

Perfect.

Extraordinary

Time heals everything.
You know, lovely days that forget all your thoughts and just bring you to balance? Those are the once in a while times where everything meets at a certain point to make sense. It's a new start from here, a better view, and an extra high for life.


Leave your coffee cups behind, but bring your running shoes. We're on a go.
It all makes sense from here!


Long drives with deep indulging conversations, yet light hearts, have a perfect note on a smashing night.


Now is the time to indulge, now is the time to explore. I'm done with summer school, the break is on. It's all mellow from here. All I can picture doing is visiting museums, working out, and random things. Having a nice touch, the right time. The exposition of others, the natural desire to be patient, to be here. To live life in the moment, to enjoy it, and let it go from there.


It doesn't have to click, it flows.
Are you ready?

Right now, for me.

Fact>opinion.

I prefer.

Lightly, though. Don't acknowledge yourself.

They say, "keep calm and carry on" when all I want to do is quit.

You know, that calming feeling you get when you know these people have your back? It makes me think, this is "family" whether you're legally related or not. End of discussion. They are the ones who keep you grounded, keep you going whether they back you up on reckless life decisions or a stupid indecisive moment on something that doesn't... that won't affect your life at the end of the day. They don't understand what goes up in your mind, through it, caged in, or what isn't up there, and they still got you.
I don't mind being alone. I actually prefer it. I mean, I enjoy doing my own thing. I'm a "keep to yourself" kind of company.
She hoveled me with questions, two after three, one more, tension arose. I understand. She thinks of me as "pacing, mysterious." I guess we don't always want to be in the spotlight, the life of every party, if you will.
I felt like I was a bug, thrown under a microscope and examined, trying to get into my head by an alien creature. Trying to figure me out, when every remark at a cold morning like this, just jumped into a deeper misunderstanding. A new hole, every time. Forgive me for being over emotional, but I wanted to hold it all in, hold my breathe until a breeze came by so I can disconnect myself from these words. To let go. I wasn't fully myself. I was a bit off-guard and mis-figured... out.
Out of this world. Out of my head, into another's and I almost felt dead. This wasn't my first time.


Spending what you feel like is too much, take a step back and let it go for a little while. Until you have some space. Distract yourself. Getting close, close to someone is not as easy for me anymore when they think you aren't what they want. I'm changing right now, this is my process. This is my documentation. This is just me going through a difficult time with my path in life, even though I know it will end sweeter than I imagine.
I hope you understand, that as much as I am addicted to you, it's a poison for me. I'm still learning to cope.
I can't say how I feel about you now, because when I speak, it's bumper-sticker talk, Aristotle quotes and my own theories and experiences. When I write, I can tell you exactly how I feel, even if all you gotta do is read along. Sadly. I'll get there. And I'll accept my changing, as you will too, because everyone does.
I don't know what I want. I don't know what I have. I know that I have motivation and focus, but would possibly need it more often than how often I use it. Confidence? I've already got that.
Just feel like when I bring in a new soul, it changes me more than I believe, right between the lines, and all I ever wanted to do was move you. 
I must say, when I heard my boy on the radio today, as I was shopping distractedly, I dropped everything and felt safe again. Right again, untroubled again, and that took me through the night.


She said I'm too complicated, too messed up. I laugh to myself, a light, worried laugh. The way I see it, I'm simple. You just have your own pair of eyes. Stick 'em to your lens.

the perfect note

{Before I begin, excuse the jotted down fragments of note taking rather than not-very-well-worded structures. Who cares when you're feeling free? Who has time to think about feeling, when you're supposed to be feeling without thought. It's not supposed to be understood}

I get the chills and I want to cry. It’s so beautiful. Up my spine. I close my eyes. I feel like im on a cloud, breathing fresh high altitude air. No one can see me. No one. Soaked by the beauty of sound, the beauty of sound. It. Or in some warming part of a film, a collage, driving home on a gloomy day from the hills, loving life again, dreaming, pretty things, my old soul.

I love the way the light reflects off his chello, most.

Fill me up like a cup, pour your sounds, and in result-I overflow with aspiring ideas. This is my happy place.

Music for my soul. To my soul.

The way I see it- if you dream, you're human; if you believe in them, you're super human.

365/6

Some say they want to travel the world, I want to travel humans.
When I get a sparking idea, I don't turn off the spark. I turn off the light.
I think best in the dark. In the shadows, in your shadows. In the breeze.


I have a goal for every day.
Now's the time to shine.
Every day.
Every, day.

questionable theory

Is ignorance really bliss?


Note to self: Start becoming the person you want to be. The one you see yourself as in the future, the wise one you want to meet.

I like you because I don't

understand you, got it?

word vomit...

You know, you feel brilliant when someone you don't know tells you.
You don't feel so nifty when your friends tell you that you're a genius. That just whispers: you're an idiot.


I'm better kept with my mouth shut. Better sounded when no words come out. Better dressed when wearing nothing. Better to be worse than be nothing, nothing at all.
I should deserve what I work for, what I give back. "So, stop being so kind to me."


Your second choice, duck tape my lips, no more kisses. Don't give it up until I get it right. Let me sweat it out until I put the pieces together. Let me suffer, let me suffer. Black. White. I'll find the light. I'll find it bright. It'll be alright. Because I'll find the peace within me.
Let the faucet drip. Let it slip warmly, mildly until it floods the dusty and diagonal wooden cracks in the ground, on this ground. It'll have to get there first. It will have to slide off the swirling marble sink, it'll have some friction in this cold place. Less of most. More or less. We want it. I'll tip toe like Nike footsteps on a pavement, I'll switch it off with the screech as I... squeeze my eyes so tightly and scrunch all the muscles toward my glute. Your shadow, still lying quarreling and light in the pitchblende of these sound effects. And all that he doesn't hear. Because, it's all in my head. Because, it's not really here. Because it's only made up, in these words. In this unavailable, invisible, transparent illusion. I just, make these things up so that I can imagine it were happening but my mind soon believes it, but cannot picture what had happened. Because I was never there. I wish I could turn that faucet off. But we'll let it drip, drip, and drop. Because that's the way it is.


...meets symbolism.


These gripping grounds are tight and secluded, but we're going to bring the audience.

off edges

Today is one of those days where you should zip my mouth and swallow the key.

I'm sorry

You want art under this roof? Look down.
Everything in my room is pretty feng shui. It's a love-hate relationship in this 9 by 9. Or so I'm assuming. My bed lays on the floor, my paintings that I never hung up, on the ground against a wall, with magazines and books on top and in between.


I have just realized I have at least 12 different places I write, different journals for different reasons. Most of them are note books, one's a sketch, others are forms of technology and one is on a completely different hard drive.
You know when you chew gum to help your ears unpop? I just popped in some. A double bubble never hurt anyone. And then I popped my ear, the opposite way. How does that even happen?


Well, my room is clean. Feels nice. I shall sleep in my gym clothes so that I must actually get up in the morning.
I have such a clear set mind this late at night.
Alrighty, 12 journals (which I continue to write in each), 7 juggling books to read, multitasking magazines, and oh hey video games. Alright, time to sleep on it.

non nonsense

Do all writers drop everything in their hands and run to a notebook to splur out genius ideas? Is it normal to stop everything you’re doing when you feel the need to write?

Appreciate the small things. Look back at your day. There is always one thing that made it better. A minor detail. Something you would not ordinarily see. Now look harder. Closely. Perhaps it was that one song the old folk in the car next to you was playing. Or, a simple compliment from a stranger on your worn out jeans. Maybe even a penny you found on the ground as you were walking to class. Or something that struck you a memory from the past. I don’t know. Whatever it was, whatever it is, there is always something, something something something that was there to give you a brighter light. I used to think it only happened in the movies, but my life, to me, is such a series. I’ve probably knocked out every genre and gave a new definition to each. You might feel soulless, but we have more soul to feel what feeds off us. That could be bliss. Or even, fear. We bring it with us, forward. Just don’t forget the things you left behind, even if you don’t remember every detail. 

The injustice might power over it, over you. The style might stop you from wanting in. Just don't forget, you are alive. This too shall pass.

Save me

This world is trying to break me.

Diese Welt ist versucht, mich zu brechen.

इस दुनिया में मुझे तोड़ने की कोशिश कर रहा है.

Этот мир пытается сломать меня.

Denna värld är att försöka bryta mig.

Thế giới này đang cố gắng phá vỡ tôi.

Mae'r byd yn ceisio torri i mi.

هذا العالم هو محاولة لكسر لي.

Take my hand and pull me in again -Gray

I trick myself into writing something good so I can copy and paste it onto this empty space. Then I don't think it's so good anymore. I'm blog shy.

You know what the most refreshing sound to me is? Justin Nozuka’s album “You I Wind Land and Sea.” His voice of soul, his vibe that just lures you in, tuning out your outside world of troubles. I always come back to it from time to time, after hard times. It just.. finds me. Makes me feel well gain. It’s my healing potion for almost every sickness. And the smell of cold water, so. I’ve been listening to him from the days he began in coffee shops. Look at him now, evolving. It just gets better and better. And that is not surprise.

I want to work in an artistic environment. I have such a dark soul setting piece as if I took a jar to the creepiness of the universe and sucked it in as a breath of air. No. Happy environments suit me, although I am everlasting intrigued to dark shutters and dimmed lamps with peaceful music and a nice large and chipped mug.

Did you hear about them 3d televisions? I’ve always waited for such a thing as a child. I just wish I could reach in and grab everything out, it’s like a whole new virtual world. It’s not so much the idea of it, it’s more so the fact that they could do it. She said, “Dude, they made a device that stops dogs from barking, ridiculous.” It’s not the fact that they want to, it’s about making it possible. Don’t ask why.. if you do, we just say, “Because we can.”

“well the air is full of motions
and every breath I'm taking in
I feel you now, I feel…”

What’s the difference between egoistical and egotistical?

I love doing no-thing. Nada. Nothing. Nooothing. It’s too good. Back to the optimistic environment. Picture, Drew Barrymore in “He’s Just Not That Into You” workesque, with gay guys and a newspaper. That eats out Gigi’s magazine cubical if you ask me. But anyway, there’s always so much I want to do, you know? It’s like, I need to take time off from wanting and continue to breathe until I catch up again. Being ahead of yourself, it’s another form of clockwork. My mind is in the future, but I guess that makes my body kind of… what’s the word? Ah, anyway, I should get finished with this monitoring/planning homework. That is all.

I think I’m a workaholic. And I don’t ever want to disappoint anyone. So I’m like the “Yes Man” but I’m half the age and a young woman. Oh dear. Why do I make my life so much harder and think, not so much believe, that I can make everything happen? Haha. I’m such a ditz. Hello, reality. You hit my quite hare this time.

like clockwork

You just know when you know.
I was just lurking (who says that anymore, "lurking" Luuuuurking?) through some old MemoPad posts on my BlackBerry, here's something I wrote on the tenth..


"I really don't know where else to write this, so here goes my swirling time clot of unreasonable PM vomit. You know, I think it's really important that we appreciate the time we are born in. A lot of people say, and yes I've been thinking about this very often lately, that they wish they were born 'back in the _____.' 'I was born in the wrong decade.' Me? I'm grateful for living now. I want to live 'now,' 'in the moment' and what we have is so important. I think we are changing, and evolving so rapidly. And to be apart of this generation probably comes with a purpose. So, enjoy this. And I've been hearing it very much recently, it's recognizable and more of a habit than a trend, that we should love our time. There's nothing you can do about it anyway, so quit the complaints. I once sat in the third row of a play, and heard the wise words-not so much a line-roll off an actor's tongue and into the atmosphere so beautifully. 'It takes life to love life.' And to be reminded; that makes my knees weak (in a great way)."

Only $508,900. Only.

"Pour le Mérite"

fff

Define "normal."
Dimmed the lights. A click of his mini flashlight. Serious mode, he asked if I hear voices. I said yes. "Don't worry, that's completely normal." A medium concussion leads to paranoia, leads to schizophrenia, leads to psychologically distur... no. Breakdown. Be fatigued. Breathe air again, as if it was your first breath, as if you burst up from holding it, pacing it for what seems like... hours, underwater. That refresh. That relief. You're still here. Don't ask why. It doesn't matter. Isn't it clear that you are? Well, more so blurred but it's kind of exhilarating. I'm boring myself. Don't try to write, trying never works. Pouring does.


Salam.

Slow down; portrait-ality

You might be looking, but you're not seeing. Just take it all in, it's overwhelming.

Things are always looking up. I mean, there's always something good, always. Look back on your day, review your time. Part of my homework is to monitor my day, can't say I actually did so for pen on paper.. yet. Hah. No but really, if you just refresh yourself, a brighter perspective awaits your duties in the future to come.

You might not be able to do it at first. What you really need to change is that you can "try" to do it, not not be able to do it. You might break down, you might fall apart, and you might seclude yourself. That's okay. You'll know everything is okay. Elements lie within, it doesn't matter who you are with or where you go, it's inside of you. It's up to you to feel at ease.

My doctor told me I have "an actress personality," and that I have too many ambitions and I'm always anxious to do something, to make something happen. I couldn't agree more. He recommended I slow down, find pace. Start up a training program again, start running again. So I ran tonight, I did some yoga tonight. It feels great. Exercise is my key to rebuilding. It does keep you happy. The result is worth the push. That is what I want to focus on.

Mending the pieces within me.

Having so many friends has a price, adds more in your life, and also makes you get caught up and cut back.

But don't forget that they're always, always there. So be thankful for having relationships where ever you go. I make friends left, right, you name it. In the bathroom at school, standing in line at a book store, going for a dog walk, etc. Who says it's weird to make friends of all ages? And not to sound into myself, but I think it's a plus to be attractive with a personality like that. I think if you focus on one thing, it'll drive you to insanity, unless you love it. You might get both side affects, for the best of you. But what I meant is, if I seemed like a sore loner who didn't care about my traits, or you know, myself, for the most part, I could only imagine how much of a wacko I'd look like chatting up mothers at the mall or buying make up at the Bare Mineral store. Looks are a plus. We all got it, you just might not have seen the best of it quite yet.

So, making better choices in health is in my future. What's in yours?

Dear Sir,

Do something because you want to do it, be outrageous. I find myself being comfortable and exert in class, although I'm in "work mode." It doesn't have to make sense.
Admire.
Give yourself some appreciation once in a while, we need it.
And with the hard work with following success, give back success.
Give and take. Never give up, don't hold wholesome routines, be unheard of. Create a rich quality--one that not only has intellectual desire for your actions, but senses, causes, predictions, theories. Give and get what your back put into it.


"Better a Has-been than a Never-was. But better a Never-was than a Never-tried-to-be."


He pulled twenty items out of the bag, there were twenty-four of us. My hand stood against gravity. The blood, falling down to my elbow, then to my shoulder cap. I waited. Time stood, and moved rationally. I have photographic memory. I was the one out of twenty-four prospecting students to get nineteen items scribbled down, in detail-but was not essential, out of twenty. Mission accomplished. My class now knows I am a genius.


And, perhaps you do it for the view. Just don't expect much, because the feeling is unseen, and that's the best view you can get.