towns

Thu, 23 Jul 2009 17:02:31 GMT

Today, I beat Portal.

progress

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 17:47:07 GMT

i believe my hair has decided to grow outward rather than downward. a poof abounds, yet no real progess! that is alright.

on another note, i need to document my mug, as i should have done last saturday on my birthday.

there we are, looking positively radiant. seventeen is killing me.

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 01:03:12 GMT

I so sickly and strongly love Jens yet I'm not sure in what way. Maybe it is the way he writes. I want to comfort him and let him sob silently. Maybe it is in the music, how small beats rise and fall in my heart so rapidly I see dots. I've never really felt this way about a person before.. I think I'd just like to be his friend. I've never wanted to be anyone's friend so much.

Sometimes I'd like to cry, driven by a strange joy pushing against my eyes. It gives me no happiness in my heart or in my head but it curdles into a motivation I can't decipher. I can press my palms against a wall or trace paths on acrylic paper but I cannot feel complete. When I think of completion, I suppose I think of grass against my heart. Lying on my stomach in a field where it is always warm and the wind carries white day stars.

I'm not sure how a birthday ought to be celebrated. It is a congratulations of survival, I guess it should be met with a hug, a standing cradle and a breath of their scent and to tell them "It will be alright, you are alive, look at you".

Tue, 30 Dec 2008 19:51:08 GMT

My "wordle":

Sat, 27 Dec 2008 01:20:25 GMT

Me gustaría ir al baile este sabado porque.. pues, lo echo de menos. Algo que tengo en mi corazón me muero por las personas. Pero al mismo tiempo, lo odio. Los odio. Vengo a mi cama y lloro porque no puedo funcionar con ellos. ¿Que me está atrayendo? No se.
Estoy escuchando a algunos músicos ridículos que me hacen dormir.
Quiero una vida dulce. Sacaré fotos y compartiré con tí.

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 02:40:44 GMT

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:
"It's a bit embarrassing to admit, but everything that happens happens for no real reason"

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What is the first thing you touch?
air

6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?:
Nico's croon

9: What are you wearing?
grey sweats, boots, and a navy t-shirt

11: When did you last laugh?
c and i were watching the office and i spewed a chuckle or two

13: Seen anything weird lately?
i saw a man this afternoon lift his hips in the air and wiggle them frantically while wearing dress shoes

15: What is the last film you saw?
i'm not sure, sense and sensibility?

17: Tell me something about you that I don't know:
i'm often worried my knuckles are too dry

19: Do you like to dance?
boogie woogie

21: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
oh jesus christ don't even get me started

22: Would you ever consider living abroad?
i want to own a jazz lounge in spain

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 02:37:13 GMT

Post a memory of me in the comments. It can be anything you want. Then, post this to your journal and see what people remember of you.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 05:54:22 GMT

I've always been a bigger fan of John Green than I have of Hank. I don't know, maybe it was the novel references or the constant adjusting of glasses, or the quick yet enunciated speech or the height of hair. I never paid much attention to Hank besides listening to his song about Helen Hunt and laughing, relating to the affections.
But tonight I admit Hank charmed me. The second our eyes met he had a CD in his hand, elbow resting on the table.
"I've decided to give this to you."
"Well alright, are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"And what made you want to give such a thing to me?"
"I don't know, I'm just going to."
"Well thank you."
"Well you're welcome."
"I'm excited to listen."
"I'm glad."
I assure you such an exchange was filled with smiles and not at all as the drab sentence structure portrays it.

Maybe he could feel the Helen Hunt connection.

Sun, 02 Nov 2008 23:30:49 GMT

I have tried to balance my recent peak in sugar consumption with a few saltier organics. At the moment I'm "scarfing down" baked tortilla chips and hummus. I haven't had hummus in about a week and half and I've forgotten how much I like it.
I think mother forgot to pick up juice at the store but she did get eggnog.
I'd like to post pictures of things soon, but I'm not sure of what.
Maybe of the sky, or dark haired girls.

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 21:36:25 GMT

The weather claims today is "rainy". I haven't seen a single drop or tasted it in the air during my momentary existences outside.
Robert and I went down to the Regatta yesterday to watch rowing and drink Dasani water. He picked me up before I was entirely ready and I hadn't put any sunblock on. I guess my face met the sun from about 11:30 AM to 5:00 PM and I am, of course, quite sunburned.

On the plus side, I had the pleasure of seeing Owen Pickard. He can belt a southern tune better than any young man I've ever encountered.
I've been wanting to work on music lately but I continue to become easily frustrated. I had a dream about beheading Samuel L. Jackson.

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 01:08:46 GMT

Lately I feel like my body has been acting pretty strangely. I've gained weight then dropped it then gained it all back within a day or two. Last night I practically collapsed after attempting to "work out" and failing. I think I ought to take up yoga. I need to balance myself.
In other news, I'm trying to find time to read sections of Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar.... I still haven't turned in my job application to Barnes & Noble, it's been a few weeks but I just come back to tracing my finger around a side of the crinkled white page and starting into blank boxes and feeling a little intimidated.
I feel as if I'm aging very fast. Not maturing, really, but physically I feel like the village grandmother. Tired constantly, the sun burning my eyes, etc.
I want to physically better myself. I think I'm done with meat, really. Even fish. Every few months some sort of flesh happens to grace my lips and my blood blisters and feels like thick country grit in ancient coagulation. I'd like to try goat's milk.
I've started reading this blog (http://www.younglivingguide.com/blog/) and it's curiously informative.
I can feel things getting better because I am going to try even if I often lack motivation. Things will guide me. Guide me, and you.
I'd also like to get a few pen pals, I think. I don't know what I'd write about but it seems like a nice idea.

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 00:46:12 GMT

when the saxophone smooths over and
sounds like a woman's raised voice
lamenting over loss or
hope and so gently supported by the jazzed pulse
of a pianist
tipping his hat as cuff clasps catch the
blue light
then i can be at peace
chin shadowed in the tawny light of my own table's candle

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 00:12:29 GMT

No tengo sueño. Pienso que... pues, no se. No trato ser mentirosa y se que puedo facilmente de que. Amo mi amado más que nunca pero se pensar me hace que siento culpabilidad.. simplico espero que sea se amo. Y ahora estoy aqui y estoy pensando que se amo y todos las cosas que quiero y pienso y se y siento se incluidan. Soy patética? Es posible. Pero soy un tanta que ama.
En otras noticias, un chico horrible me besó anoche. Fue a mi casa y grité. Dije mi amado y entonces grité más. Siento que soy una persona mala y se que mi amado tiene vergüenza hablar conmigo. Probable, me olvida. No se culpo. Lo mereco incluso si lo siento muy. Quiero morir.

Sat, 30 Aug 2008 02:24:39 GMT

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 22:41:30 GMT

Puedo ver al sol y pensar que cosas estarán bien
Porque soy yo, y no tengo que ser ella o él, simplico tengo que ser yo. Finalmente realizo que.. esta bien. Que estoy bien.
Tengo muchas preguntas del mundo y vida y muerte y todos las personas que conozco y.. tengo tiempo las contestar. Vida es larga y rica cuando sonríes y no tienes muchos preocupaciones. Pienso que apreciaré vida ahora que el sol y su calor me han demostrado la manera.
Se que mi amor estaré bien porque tengo amor dar a él y a todos los unos.

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 04:23:50 GMT

I've got more on my mind. Does my icon seem "hairy" to anyone else? My eyebrow seems elongated in black and white (shades of gray rather).
I'm reading Pale Fire and I have to say it really lets my mind reel. Nabokov has charmed me once again! Especially canto two, which is perhaps my favorite.
Words honestly cannot describe the way reading makes me feel. Maybe someday I'll find the right phrase but I rather just want to breathe on people and hope they know the stirring sensations of mental insanity and excellence that reading drives me to. Pale Fire especially, now.
I feel like making more music. I've started a track compilation of video game sounds and bits. Squeaks for the new, bad boss, rhythms for traveling from town to town.
Hope and hope!
I'm cooped up in the house while ill; freezing yet sweating and I hope to get better soon.
I really want to write more but I can't quite grasp it yet.

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 06:40:49 GMT

Ahora, mi pelo no es corto.
Besa la terra y curva con el mar.

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 00:34:27 GMT

HowManyOfMe.com

There are
1
or fewer people with my name in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 19:29:36 GMT

Lately I've been studying things around me. I remember cleaning out a basket in my room and finding a lot of brochures from the local "College Night" and wondering what I'm going to do with my life. Everything is exciting and overwhelming at once, but I assume it will lose its great appeal. Ideas are the lightbulbs of processed hope, in that they shine and hurt your heart and eyes to stare into them. Like flies we are drawn to know and discover (in this natural passion of human discovery are animals/people lightbulbs, too?) and we creep towards the light with bright fascination. In delving deeper, or in breaking a lightbulb, what can one find? I guess it's mostly hollow. I have a lightbulb sitting near my hand and I was going to break it to continue this metaphor and explain deeper the similarities BUT it is one of those "eco bulbs" and filled with mercury so I guess this is where I stop! Bus zero of thought expansion regarding hopes and emptiness, this is your stop.
I guess I have anxiety about what is to come. I'm not physically unnerved or in prediction of bad things yet I felt to write them. I think I'd like to start writing more again, and here, hopefully. The world is a funny thing! Plane engines race outside and rip through skies only like thunder could break them. Have you ever gotten the two confused?
Here is some music I made:
http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?91k3uafalaf
Not made, I guess. I mean I made the sounds but the way they were put together was out my own curiosity.

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 21:57:08 GMT

JESUS CHRIST DR. HORRIBLE IS FUCKING AMAZING

that is all

my writing doesn't have to matter to anyone but me, apparently. and this DOES matter to me. i am filled with passion!

further updates to come.

Maui, Days 1 and 2 (in which I find my literate verse within Salinger-scripts)

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 22:24:38 GMT

Sitting in the hotel room, talking to livejournal. Everything's so goddamn green I can hardly believe it. I see the masses moving and cannot explain the hate that swells in my gut. But today, day 2, is going alright. I was emotional garbage yesterday and I'd like to think that after knocking a few waves I've improved a little. There's a market across the streets and I bought red plums and leeche nuts.
My food consumed so far:
(Day 1)
fruit punch
"veggie" wrap consisting of cucumbers, carrots, squash and zuccini on a spinish tortilla
tortilla chips
several pretzels spread out over the ten hour flight
about half a bag of m&ms over said ten hour flight
half a ~*lifewater*~
mini bagel/cream cheese
chocolate covered m'nuts
vegetarian quesadilla
more tortilla chips eaten with some vegetable-esque salsa
(Day 2)
So far...
rice chex
mini bagel/cream cheese
veggie delight and french onion sunchips (de subway)
red plum
leeche nutz

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 23:59:48 GMT

I bought a new dress yesterday. A new dress, and some scandalous swimsuits. Hahah. Suddenly I am filled with (hope), and I want to clean, and sing. I want to talk to a boy on the phone tonight. I want to smile and push bangs from my forehead with hands too cold from gripping clear iced tea glasses. The sun still shines for an hour or two. Or three. Or four.
I want to BE. And I can BE. And I know this now.
And I'm not so scared.

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 06:07:18 GMT

1. First Name: Kailey
2. Age: 16 (June 13 92)
3. Location: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma (USA)
4. Hometown: OKC. Have moved once at age 9, hardly 30 minutes from where I grew up.
5. Occupation: Recently employed as a camp counselor, hoping to work in a plant nursery soon.
6. Partner?: Many miles.
7. Kids?: No.
8. Brothers/Sisters?: Four older brothers: Andrew who's 25, Jeremy, 30, John, 33 (??), and Chris, 38. No sisters.
9. Pets: Zeno, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi (pooch), Fiona, a calico minx (feline), and Poppy, a parakeet.
10. List the 3-5 biggest things going on in your life:
* Work
* Finding real value in relationships
* Learning to appreciate, not hate
* Chilling out
11. Parents: Mommy likes pot and father... likes the computer, I guess. So I have things in common with both. They're alright, I find them fairly lousy at times but that's probably the teenager raging within me.
12. Who are some of your closest friends?: I've found that as I've grown older most of my childhood friends have split into different social circles but I've met a few new people in highschool and I'd consider them good friends. And, of course, friends of the internet whom I've known for a varying amount of years and will always adore.
13. Do you drink/smoke?: Have never smoked, don't drink regularly.
14. Tattoos/Piercings: I have a few ear piercings and no tattoos as of now.

Sat, 14 Jun 2008 02:56:50 GMT

I do not cope well with the fact that he is gone. I cannot handle it and it hasn't hit me yet. I wonder if it ever will. Funeral on Monday, don't know if I will get the time off work to go. She must let us. The staff, the counselors, we all suffered so greatly today I cannot even speak it. She has to let us go. Cried at the memorial, a few lopsided embraces in the strife before the storm present in the sky since noon. Thunder bellows and the rain pours outside. I cannot stop thinking of him. He is everywhere. He is the lightning, and the ridiculous twine of guitar in each song that seems present and
it just hasn't hit me yet.

Speaking of gone, I wonder where a certain Cory happened to go. I hope your connection did not fail or you did not go to bed. I love you. Do not forget this. In grief it seems I have been selfish and focused on losing another but if anything it makes me value you more.

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:24:48 GMT

I think it's time I learned how to ride a bike. However I find that wearing sneakers when attempting such a task results in said sneakers sticking and biting at my feet, suffocating from the outside as the inside of all things present shakes with the anxiety of a new task in both gravity and balance. Disorders, no matter what kind, will not get the best of me. I have been ridiculous for long enough and I roll my wrists in anticipation to grasp metal bars and meet fate. Another balancing act, in literal terms, is ever present in the choice to spill circles in either pale, yellowed grass or the black-tared gravel and cement of the street I ever so fondly happen to walk in those occasions I can't get a ride to work. Maybe I'll go early enough to watch the sun rise. No, that's excellent in theory but I have to be there long after the sun rises and I am not one to get up earlier than I must. The sun here, today, in this state between warmed afternoons and evenings, looks overcast in orange by strict grey clouds. Could it be rain? I could taste the air, or press against the leaves on the pecan tree to check their agitation. I'm assuming, here, trees would be agitated. What I strange remark in itself! I'm sorry, I am compelled to end my sentences with anything but periods. Since when do we use "gray"? It doesn't matter. Grey for life. I don't know who I'm trying to be. I'd like to think that out of this, out of being, I would feel, on my own, motivated to script three livejoural posts in the span of two hours, but... words fade far from me and I feel this is a written act against myself to be those I admire rather than the lumpish ponderer I happen to be. Oh well, it was strange to write as such. As I walk in the dirt I hit my fist against the wooden fences to release things I won't let myself think. Is it effective? I don't know. I can't answer those things, who do you think I am(?)! I rub my larger toes on the stained carpet beneath.