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[Saturday July 15th, 2006 7:58pm ] 1 cmnt

[Monday June 26th, 2006 7:46pm ] I don't know if I've found happiness or comfort.

[Monday May 22nd, 2006 9:15pm ] Have you ever had a dream that seemed to last five years, even though you were only asleep for a few hours? Or did you ever have a dream that seemed to last 100 years? Or have you ever had a dream where you were married to someone for your entire life? Or a dream where you were lost in the arctic circle for decades and decades and decades? Now obviously, dreams don’t last 100 years. Dreams last about 20 minutes. So that means we are somehow able to understand an accelerated passage of time while we dream. We can just naturally tell, somehow, whether the dream is happening in “real time” or in “dream time”. And if it’s happening in dream time, then what we’re experiencing in the span of 20 minutes can feel like a span of 20 years. My question is: Are we only able to understand this because of books and movies and television? Because the difference between real time and dream time seems like something that would be impossible to understand organically. What I’m wondering is if TV taught people how to have longer dreams, because TV is always flashing forward. If sitcom characters are in the living room, and then a commercial for Tide comes on, and then those same people are suddenly lying in bed when the show returns, we automatically understand that time has advanced. We just take for granted that the story has moved from daytime to nighttime. This is something we have all come to understand completely, and without even trying. So what I’m wondering is how people dreamt before the invention of media. And not just before movies and TV, but even before printed novels. I mean, how would a caveman dream? Would his dreams only happen in real time, like in Kiefer Sutherland’s 24? How could the subconscious mind of a caveman calibrate the idea of two things happening 10 years apart? How would a caveman tell the difference between real life and dream life? Wouldn’t they be almost identical?

[Wednesday March 8th, 2006 3:04am ] What do I want to say to you? You only continue to confirm my strangest observations of & explanations for you. You have no idea what you are talking about, but you speak with such conviction. I would appreciate that more if I wasn't constantly rolling my eyes. I do not understand how this works in your mind, & I am humbled & fascinated by my inability to grasp it. I am saddened mostly because you are so rare, & will be hard to replace. I will be hard pressed to find a substitute for you. It is an inconvenience, truly. Your perception of me is half right, but you are horrified by it while I find it commonplace. We have to realize where we all stand. When you honestly consider it, can anything be that shocking? Lastly, you are a special concept, but a shadow of a person. I am sad for that as well; that I have fallen in love with the idea of you, but you can only be an idea. You are not solid, & for all your condemnations of me & all your sermons, you have nothing to show. All your love is just as worthless as you deem mine if you can't remember it in the morning.

[Sunday March 5th, 2006 1:03am ] cmnt

[Friday February 3rd, 2006 1:44am ] I met Andy Duggins last night, and it was one of the most worth-while expenditures of time that I have chosen in a quite a while. I always wonder how things (my life, me) would have been different if. I am so glad for the good things & people in this world. House of Blues is so strange. I am obsessed with venues, and I compare each & every one of them to The Vets Hall. Anyway! While discussing alcohol with Andy Duggins last night, the waiter brought me a cup of coffee instead of coffee cake, but I decided against correcting him & tried to drink it. I hate coffee. I poured a shitload of cream & sugar into it & then I kind of enjoyed it. But I felt two things about this experience: in keeping with the "she takes shots with her boots on" stereotype, I should drink black coffee, & probably large amounts of it. But I just can’t & I feel sorry for not being able to take that stereotype all the way, because it's one that I like. But the other thing I felt regarding the coffee was that I was now drinking this thing that I was enjoying, because it was smoother & sweeter. But it was coffee. I felt like being able to actually get it down my throat was such a novelty, & that I should have had more of an interaction with the base taste, itself. I had changed what the coffee was. I had made it something totally different. I had altered it, manipulated it, covered it. & I felt intimidated by the fact that it was in fact coffee, & was so unsure of the fact that I was drinking it, having diluted it with other stuff. I know, this makes no sense. But I just felt like I wasn’t giving coffee the respect it deserved. Coffee in my life is a force to be reckoned with & I just poured some other shit into it, changed it, & drank something new. I totally disregarded & didn’t appreciate what coffee is. What it tastes like. Coffee & I didn’t have a proper interaction. Lastly, tonight was so opinionated. We talked all day about political platform, social dynamic, anarchy, what foods humans are naturally built to be digesting, what rights anyone does or doesn’t have to form & impose their opinions about these things on other people or society as a whole. & "Please, please don’t mention God." It was a good thing, it was good of us all to speak for what we really think, & to mostly tolerate what the others of us were saying. But still, things get so shaky so fast. cmnt

[Sunday January 29th, 2006 4:02am ] I feel sorry for people who don't see what they have right in front of them, who go on and complain about the innane shit. No no, appreciate what you have when you have it, whether it be for a fleeting moment or for the rest of your life. (My amazing friends, both those who have wandered in and stayed, and those who have wandered in and out, my fuck ups & my conquests, thank you.) cmnt

[Thursday January 5th, 2006 1:52am ] I had coffee with an exboyfriend today, and was an interesting experience, it was good. He was telling me about his black friend who he really likes but can't hang out with for long spans of time because the black guy acts overtly black & Ryan is convinced he does it just to make Ryan uncomfortable. "He calls me 'nigga' & shit." Yep, glad that breakup happened when it did. Haha. I wanted to tell him about Erik but I didn't. On another note, Tonight I threw Burts Bee's at Erik, missed him, and broke a window in his room. I think that's probably the first time, in my entire life, that I've ever broken a window, and it made me realize maybe I hadn't been living enough. Anyway I went apeshit and threw my chapstick at him cuz he was being, well, Erik, and you know, so I threw it as hard as I could. If it would have flown like 1 inche(that's french for "inch") farther to the left, I would've clobbered him. We went for a walk. It was a really nice night, windy, cold, but comfortable. I like clear cloudless nights like these. And shadows that the streetlights make with the trees when there's a breeze... I didn't mean for that to rhyme. We just walked, talked, and I bought him cigarettes to apologize for almost poking his eye out. And other things. I spit in his face the other day while we were in a fight. It was fucking cute. He grabbed me and held me and said "You're such a fucking bitch!!" with a huge smile on his face and kissed me. And i don't know what you call romantic, but it's probably as close to romance I've ever gotten in my life. Haha. Even if he was probably having a psychotic episode and may have tried strangling me at any given moment. I was about to headbutt him (I have a fucking hard head ya'll) but then there was a huge change of emotions and well we were back in love again. I am fucking excited about life, & the spring that's soon to come. I am also delusionally tired. 1 cmnt

[Monday January 2nd, 2006 8:58pm ] cmnt

[Thursday December 29th, 2005 5:33am ] They turned to me, mid-conversation, & asked, "Who did you come with?". I smiled & said, "He brought me". I pointed, & at the end of my fingertip was the back of your head. I'm yours. cmnt

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