update

i haven't been able to get on the net because a few days ago ie crashed. and yes ie is our only browser, so we were pretty much screwed. my dad downloaded the newest patch on ie 6 today off some other computer, and we installed it here. needless to say, it would still crash. well, not so much crash as it wouldn't show up in our program files. so after about an hour of searching, i found an ie file, tried to open it, crashed again, followed internal link on the "send error report" thing on the chance that maybe, just maybe the browser might open up. it did. followed internal link to pestpatrol, finally found the evil winshow files on my computer, deleted the bastards, and here i am now, able to get back on the net.

this whole ordeal has confirmed yet again why i hate windows so much.

will post sometime in the next week or so, but i must download all the windows updates right now so as to keep this kind of shit from happening so often.

that and i have some sort of application thing that i have to have in by march 1st.

this was not a post, just an update. a, non-post, if you will.

that is all.

when all i can dream of is you

here's the deal:

i started writing because it was the only way i could escape my reality. i didn't want to hear it anymore, be in the middle of it, i didn't want to have to deal with it at all. so i read constantly, and when i wasn't reading i was writing. fiction. because that way at least i get to control the world inside my head, put it down on paper where i could marvel over something that no one else understands, has any idea what i mean or why i did it, but to wonder how the hell this little shy girl had such a fantastic and slightly morbid imagination.

i started reading less on my own and stopped writing altogether when i got to st mike's. why? i don't know. i was miserable and pissed off and couldn't do a thing to change my situation. i was forced to soak in reality daily, to live in it and deal with it and accept it. and one night i just snapped. and i can remember it exactly, i was alone in the house at night, blaring busted, sitting on the couch with my notebook and a pen, and i just started writing. and i kept going, and going, with the song on repeat and my legs crossed under me and my pen raging on the paper, small words, very small words written in my real handwriting at the time. i always write small when i really mean it. and then i looked at what i wrote and it was exactly how i felt. it wasn't finished, it still isn't. a thought just hanging in midair that i can never get back, and believe me i've tried. and i don't know what it was that hit me then, but i know that as horrible as i felt, everything was right with reality because i could write something down.

i have five spiral notebooks now in my collection that i keep by my bed so i can tell exactly if anyone touches it. all of them are filled with at least one poem, one has the original drafts of all the poems from my poem book in tenth grade. and i have two spirals on top of the trapper keeper that holds the rest, ones that i've procured from old schoolwork in the past couple years, spirals that i've tried to write in. both hold one insomniac revelations, both hold one story, one finished and one not, one has two poems. in all 36 poems (28 being from the poem book, 16 of them being valid), two insomniac revelations, two stories. I have one small dark blue unlined journal that i've written most of my decent things in since nov 2002. one dream, six pure writings, three of which i've posted in the past year.

i have a creative writing journal now, black sketch book, that couldn't be pure black (which should have been my first warning) so i put the hridaya on the front.

i have two blogs, the first one being an addition to my original website, when everyone thought blogs were stupid and i was a freak for liking it so much. i publicized the first one, and got horrible results. it was, just as i wanted it, an addition to my website, filled with meaningless crap about what i was learning about html and flickerstick rantings and other things about how i was having a hard time with my computer. and then i wanted to actually write on my blog. but i couldn't because i had already given the address to too many people (including a couple members of family). so i made this. and it was pretty much what i was feeling, avoiding particulars and getting deep down into the meaning of things, like how i ideally wanted to write. scatter in twenty or so pure posts and that's been how it's been.

with blogs it's always been the understanding that it's better to post now than to wait, that you post even if you have nothing to post about. that is, if you have the time. some people do that extremely well. some people can wait days or weeks between posts and it's ok, because the writing is good, at least has some thought put into it.

my theory for the past two or three years has been that if i write enough, even if most of it is really crap, i'll get some really decent posts, some pure thoughts and feelings. and for the most part it's proved to be true. this blog is filled with so many bad posts, and a few really awesome ones, ones that are my goal.

i got into creative writing with the knowledge that i'd have to do journal writing every day. and i wanted that. i wanted to write every day, to force myself to filter through all the confusion in my head and explore a thought completely. to be able to get back to the point where i'm not hiding and i'm not censoring myself from other eyes. to get back to the point where i don't care.

it hasn't happened how i wanted it to, that should have been a warning to me the moment i thought of it, planning ahead, no matter what, never works out. all we've basically been allowed to do is write on topics, topics that mean nothing and are more junior high than anything substantial. that and i've been writing around 10:30 at night, and i've been tired almost to the point of breakdown the majority of the time lately. i've stopped writing on the topics that she's given us, thinking that maybe i'll be able to write. all i've been able to do is write about how i can't seem to write. that and death, but i've been writing about death for years now. and now that whole journal is tainted with fake writings that are assignments, and daily writing isn't going to help me at all.

i go through extremes, sure. i'm not really content in anything anymore, not that i was content before, more like i was just trying to ignore reality even though i was trying to live in it. the fact is, i can't write on my blog when my family is around, just like it feels with nails on a chalkboard when they touch me. writing on paper is so pure and true that to write anything fake makes me feel horrible. i write in a few pages in a spiral notebook, and then move on to another one months or years later, a spiral for different lives. a blue journal that i've hated yet seems to be the only place where i can write pure. a blogosphere that i don't want to be a part of anymore, because every little troll with no respect for anyone can flame people they don't even know. and i'm not in the middle of any of them, it happens every day outside the computer world, but because i've been so caught up in this whole thing for two years now it makes me feel so, jaded. to the point where i want to disappear. and i might, i've been contemplating it for the past couple of months, every time i see more anonymous comments and trolls and plagiarism and fake people (as in people that don't exist) and people accusing others of being fake people.

i've tried to come out of myself, let people see me, speak my mind and participate in discussions and be a part of life, at least a semi-social one. i've been to the other extreme, and i felt totally alone. now i've tried this extreme, and still feel totally alone, and i think that's worse than trying to be totally alone. i've tried the middle way (oh my research paper is running through my head right now, and it makes my head hurt because i believe in it), or at least i've tried to try the middle way, but straddling two different universes (universi) makes the noise so much worse.

i've put myself out there more than i ever have, and i feel nothing. there's no release, no contentment, nothing. i'm not paranoid about anything really anymore, because i just don't care. i'm only seriously paranoid about the one thing, and that's only because most all people in authority don't understand and will definitely use it against me. my friends, i'd like to think they wouldn't freak, because i wouldn't freak, but it creates a line of question and mistrust that kills a person. and i'm keeping it from them, not because i'm afraid, but because i don't want to have to deal with it. i'm at the point right now where i don't want people to know who i am, because it does nothing for me.

and right now i feel that i have to let go of these relationships. i can't feel you anymore, i can't feel anyone anymore, and it's not fair to hold on to something that you have to let go of in the end. everything is transient, and i shouldn't get attached to anything or anyone. i have, and it's not right.

i hate looking into the future, because it doesn't exist, but i have to now, i have no choice. and the fact is that i have to change back to be able to survive with any sort of sanity. i have to be able to write, but i can't write meaningless things anymore.

i'm not trying to live a happy and content life. i'm not looking to live a full life with companions and lovers and meaningful work and improving the world. i'm looking to make the noise in my head go away, and if i can't do that, at least be able to write the noise down. i can't do that right now, so something has to change, and the only thing i can change is me.

like the darkness of sleep

i don't know what the hell i'm doing.

i just got home about half an hour ago to find my house completely empty. everyone's gone, no note and no message on the answering machine. i'd call my mom's cell except that i don't really care that much about where they went. and i figure if someone's dying they'd at least leave a message on the answering machine. so.

making blog rounds, found this link: be my anti-valentine. sorry kyle. just reinforces my thought that every original idea has already been publicized.

this past week was beyond pointless, but i did get in some decent stream of consciousness writing, even though most of it was about how i haven't been able to write in over six months.

found out about the meta summer bridge program and now i figure i'd be better off just keeping the three weeks and working for that time. i'll make less money (probably), but i don't want to deal with it, and being at state will just make this damn choice even harder.

yes yes, no real writing, but the truth is anything i have to say (or have been wanting to write about for the past week) will no doubt get me in some sort of trouble. i haven't talked to anyone really in a long time, and i don't know if that's a really bad thing or a good thing, but anyway i'm starting to disconnect, which i guess was the goal anyway.

revolution

because i don't have the energy to talk about this yet again:

does this have to be reality?

couldn't find a permalink, it's today's post (11 feb 2004).

off.

i HATE doyle

if anyone knows where my agenda is, if i left it at school, tell me.

also, if anyone knows my english homework and any other homework that i have to do tonight (excluding physics) please tell me.

the losing of my agenda now means that i will probably have to attend school tomorrow.

in fact, it absolutely means that i have to go to school tomorrow.

i really, really, really hate you doyle.

how to waste 3.5 hours

convert this into this.

statement.

i miss kittens.

seraphine

i just finished watching underworld a few minutes ago. i was thinking about vampires last night. i've been on a vampire trip for a while now, that and the crow. unnaturally into the crow and vampires, even more than i was when this all first started, whoever knows how long ago.

just when i'm allowed to start writing again, i can't. i figured this whole thing would jump start me back into writing, but it's the same thing all over again. i can't write what i want, i have to abide by rules and formulas. set topics and the constraints of words are always what end up killing it. i just need a week of sleep, a week of darkness and solitude, rain and wind, despair and agony. being content kills my desire for life, slaps away my desire for death. and both are needed in order for me to be able to write anything with substance down.

i need a new form of intoxication.

follow up

i didn't intend on posting today. my brain is fried from the research paper, and i still have to do the physics labs. but i had to check my blogs today, just because i'm compulsive like that.

kyle posted a link on his blog a couple weeks ago: bush in 30 seconds. i never watched the entries or the winner because i didn't want to bother with it on my 56k modem, but i will eventually.

anyway, connor posted a letter from MoveOn.org, about the winning entry of bush in 30 seconds, how cbs wouldn't allow them to purchase a timespot in the superbowl. also posted an article about the whole thing.

i just thought it was a good follow up to the whole thing.

i'd say more, but as i said my brain is fried.

and i totally didn't mean to use that many links.

sidetracked

ways i have managed to postpone doing my research paper today:

2.5 hours of internet surfing/bad coding this morning

have an urge to use blue fabric to make canopy for bed. succeed in using embroidery hoop to put fabric onto, and then hooking hoop into the vent that's above my bed (vent isn't hooked up to anything). instant bed canopy. too bad i forgot that i'm a little claustrophobic, and that when i wake up in the night i'll think some huge creature is hovering over me.

contemplating taking bed canopy down.

miscellaneous minutes wasted talking about car and car situations. many, many car situations. that and the fact that my dad's a negotiating genius.

2 minutes online at kelley blue book (for my dad). remember that i wanted to look into that duct tape prom contest. do so for approx. 1/2 hour. spend next 45 minutes to 1 hour trying to beat the computer in hooking up headphones to front headphone jack on tower. went to windows newsgroup to look for information to be able to do so.

doyle laughs in my face. i fail miserably. must plug in headphones to back of tower in speaker jack.

waste more time blogging, waiting for dinner time.

which seems to be now.

lifestyle change

and yet still not doing my homework. weekends should be a time of rest.

what? huh? that and i can't think at all right now. i think i can actually feel the thoughts in my head breaking apart and scattering all over. it's quite confusing.

i find it hard that some people can't talk about death. it's just so... evident, that i'd think people would want to talk about it, and make plans, and try and live out their days the best that they can and whatever happens happens.

i've only written in my creative writing journal three times this week. i think my head might explode. and i'm not even trying to teach myself javascript. off.

creepy

yes, i'm procrastinating. with any luck brooks won't be at school tomorrow either, and we won't get bitched out yet again.

anyway.

piercings i have seriously considered getting: eyebrow, labret.

piercings i would like to have: about three more helix piercings, if the healing period wasn't so damn long and the post-piercing so painful. i also just started thinking about a lip ring. except that i hate cbr's.

damn cbr's!

piercings i find really weird: surface piercings, cheek piercings, smileys, lowbrets, industrials.

piercings that creep me out: navel. i find that they look really good if you have a nice belly, but it's just still really creepy to me that you'd get pierced close to vital organs. and i know it's not close, but... it's just creepy.

tongue piercings have the whole dental horror around them, which you can reduce greatly (if not eliminate) by just paying attention to the piercing and not playing with it, and having the right sized jewelry. tongue piercings don't creep me out, i just know that i'll never get it because i don't even want the slightest possibility of fucking up my teeth. there's a lot of money that's been put in my mouth, and i don't want to put any more into it if i don't have to.

i've been surfing bme every single day this week. reading more, just looking. also trying to stay patient with my cartilage piercings. but i've been doing sea salt soaks on them every day again (i actually stopped for about two months. idiot), and they've been seeming... better. that is when i don't wake up and find that i've been sleeping on my side. again, i blame the cbr's for all my problems. note to self: stop blaming inanimate objects for problems resulting from impatience.

crap. i haven't done my physics. off.

captive dreams

apparently it's near impossible to have an original idea anymore. at least one that hasn't already been sold.

enter captive tube rings. my brilliant invention that has already been invented.

i still hate cbr's.

work day

as i have not yet started working on my homework, i will provide you with the requested link: the state of the union drinking game. link stolen from ernie. i found it quite amusing, despite the fact that i don't drink.

about half an hour ago it started snowing. and now it's stopped, and i think the sun is actually showing. but we are supposed to have a big storm later today. or tonight. or something. either way i'm hoping for a snow day. not because i won't have my research paper outline done, because i will, just because i don't want to have to deal with school things tomorrow. and i need much more sleep.

apparently my car wanted to scare me on friday night coming back from brian's, because the check engine light went on. next day? not on. got an oil change anyway, so maybe that was what it was. whatever the reason, i have now decided that the car's name is doyle. and no one will get that, or a lot of my past posts now that i think about it, if they haven't watched the 25th hour.

things i have to do this week: physics test, research paper first draft, other homework, drama rehearsal, and applications. and fafsa. and anything else that comes up. fun. so this shall probably be last post for a week.

and if i do happen to post this week, know that i am procrastinating doing some sort of homework that is vital to my grade.

off.

would anyone notice

i woke up out of a dream this morning and it was like my mind just kicked on, and now it won't shut up. i've never had the experience of continuing the experience of a dream into the waking world, but somehow it happened today. it's like, one of those things that is just so, true, that you live out your feelings and situations in a dream. maybe it's because i still can't come out and say it, that i've tried to suppress it for so long and keep this things from imposing attitude on my being, that these things have to come out in my dreams, to keep me sane.

i don't want to write this. so bad that just being here makes me cry. but i know that if i write it in my journal, it will never come out, and i won't have to deal with it. so.

sitting on the floor in class, a house, with all my other classmates. she says something like think on something that will make you cry, and i think hey this'll be one of the easiest things to do. but my mind is going fifty two billion miles an hour in every possible direction. i can't focus on anything, not on happiness or sorrow, indifference or even pain. i try to just stop thinking, to just make all the noise stop, but i can't. i'm being bombarded from every angle by the thoughts that i hate. everything that i don't want to be, don't want to admit to myself. feeling that i'm completely and desparately alone in the middle of a room full of people. i get up and separate myself from everyone else, making it so i'm just as alone physically as i am mentally. i sit down with my back against a wall, holding my knees up to my chest, laying my head on my knees, facing towards the left. and i'm overcome by a wave of tiredness, and loneliness, and desparation to make my mind stop talking. my eyes close and i don't have the will to open them again. and then i hear you coming, out of everyone you're the only one who noticed i was gone. i can't turn towards you, but i know you're there. i can feel that aura that i can always feel when i'm around you, and my mind stops talking, and i feel safe again. and i hear you say, in my mind, like some sort of link like when you just look at someone and can feel what they're thinking, you say i can feel your pain, and not the "i feel your pain" way that's always said, you can literally feel my soul. and then out of nowhere people just come and sit down on either side of me, separating you from me, and they talk and talk but are still oblivious to me. and that's when i started crying.

and i woke up, and started crying.

i had a dream the night before too, it was the end of the world, ending by man, dropping the bomb. but the mushroom cloud and the light that came from it was blue and white light.

all week my mind's been yelling at me, freaking out, refusing to shut up. the only way to mask it is when i drown out the thoughts with music, and even then when the music stops i can hear it again. all the noise. bright lights produce noise. physical contact produces noise. every time you grab me or shake me or throw me off balance or bite me or give me raspberries, all the noise just strangles my mind, and i can't think, and i freak out. it's so hard, to hide the shaking and the confusion and the mental overload. it's getting so hard.

it's all in my mind, everything that i freak about. but that's the problem, it's in my mind. short of going catatonic, i can't seem to make my mind shut up.

the worst part about thinking constantly is that i can't focus on one thing. writing what i want to say becomes near impossible, because i can't keep my mind from touching on every little thought that runs through my mind.

i have to make it stop.

catch? no catch. catch? no catch.

ah, the neverending dilemma of college. it's just trying to drive me insane.

nmsu: full ride. and it's cruces. and there's possible freebies, what with relatives and all.

berkeley: no ride except for instate tuition. and a possible little scholarship. it's in berkeley. no possible freebies, ever.

the only thing that will make this so much easier is if i were to really like berkeley when i go see it. or really hate it.

i have one week to apply to puget sound, although i'm positive i won't be going there. so why don't i just keep my application fee? ah, that's the question.

i will be more inclined to write something of substance when i no longer have a research paper to do and an average of two hours of physics homework every night.

announcement

drama rehearsals start wednesday after school.

not today.

not tuesday.

wednesday.

this will be a read through.

and now i must email you people.

raised by a cup of coffee

finally got around to checking back with homestarrunner.com, and found that they made four more games in the latest sb email. awesomes.

i wonder if the cd (strong bad sings and other type hits) is around the net for downloading. it has "the cheat is not dead" and "the system is down" on it. i would buy it, but the only things i buy off the net are associated with flickerstick. if i bought everything i wanted to from the homestar runner store, i would spend about $100.

which reminds me, i am going to silk screen a trogdor-related shirt in art this year. or at least i want to. i think he'll be pleased as long as he doesn't have to look at another flickerstick logo.

um... yeah. i really should be doing something productive right now. off.

no. more. code.

word to the wise: do not ask me to do any sort of job or remember to do something when i am busy writing code. i will not remember. i might not even hear you speaking to me. you could try to put a post-it on the computer, but as it is i ignore those regularly. so.

i've spent three hours updating more code on my compsci site. mainly i learned that you can define dl's in css. that and i spent about an hour looking through ascii charts. i seem to have a slight obsession with ascii.

anyway, now my mind is fried and i can't do anything more. i think i can actually feel the blankness inside my head now.

no wonder video games and tv give kids seizures.

oh, oh, oh, the drama

something makes me think i should feel guilty right now, but i don't. something about everything i've been saying and living in the past two weeks keeps me from turning back on myself and making a bfd about things.

oh the irony.

and not so much the irony, because it's not all that ironic. it's just... doyle. damn doyle.

so i backed into kat's car, driven by kelley. don't think it's entirely my fault, since i didn't see her, and blah blah blah, but hey a car's a car and it's not a big deal. so i'll pay for whatever. i just don't want to deal with the expected mary calling and yelling at me. which probably won't happen, it's just a feeling i get from that woman... way too uptight.

anyway.

that's all in the past and out of my mind. my mom told me today that the insurance people are offering (about) $4900 for my car, but we're sure we can get more for it. i mean come on, did you see my grandma car? it was awesomes. and in really really really good condition. with low mileage.

plan: use money insurance will give us to buy two cars, since my dad's is dead.

sidenote: i dislike my brother's car. i disliked it when it was running well. and the car my dad wants to get me is the exact same car. same color and everything. but anyways a car's a car, and it doesn't matter what i drive so long as i can get to school every day, and it's not like i'm buying this car, so it doesn't matter.

i'm very repetitive. usually i mean to be. i find it odd when i don't mean to be repetitive and end up doing it anyway.

we replaced our chimney a while ago, and now it does this thing when the stove gets really hot, the paint or something in the chimney burns and sends off these really horrid fumes. and now they've filled the house. ugh.

i was going to keep writing for another half an hour or so, but these fumes are really getting to me. must. open. more. windows.