nothing to see here.

I am trying to write an entry about my recent crazy-ass mood swings and I am not doing a very good job of it. Two or three entries (one of which was actually a reasonable length) have now been deleted. I wouldn't be entirely surprised if this one wound up digitally erasified as well. I make up words. Shoot me.

(Side story relating to word invention: My Research Paper Professor makes us title all of our sections and he said that we should title them creatively. As such I titled one of mine "Exploitionships" (it was about people who use their friends instead of appreciating them for the great individuals that they are). Obviously "exploitionship" is a made up word, but I was told to be creative and that is creative AND it would make a kick-ass word. Professor did not think so. Le sigh. EXCITING story. Heehee.)

Anywho: Recently I have been mood-swinging like CRAZY and for no discernible reason. I'll wake up being wickedly excited about life and then three hours later I'll be ready to go home and drown myself in a toilet bowl. I'll be having an all-around awful day and next thing I know I'm running about laughing and having a grand old time with a group of people. I don't get it and it's really starting to piss me off. Calm the eff down, emotions. Calm the eff down.

Random thoughts:

I have a sliver in my hand. I wish I understood people. I wish I were better at telling people what I think/feel when it is pertinent. Friends are like rainbows. They're purty while they last, but they don't. I like taking walks. I wish I had never left Hofstra. I hate role-reversal that puts me in an uncomfortable place. I think I ruined a pair of shoes today. But it was worth it. I should be more honest. With everyone. Including myself. I wish I knew what he thought in particular. I am trying to catch up on all the podcasts I am subscribed to. Takes for-frickin'-ever. I am also trying to get to the point where I've listened to all the music I have on my computer. Also takes for-frickin' ever. It would help if I wasn't constantly clearing my library and re-installing the same music. It makes it very hard to tell what I have and have not actually listened to. I want a bowl of ice cream. There is no ice cream in my house. That is enough for now. I hope I can be in Washington for the summer. Really, really, really a lot. I miss him and he's not even gone yet. My new obscenity is fuckhead. Deliciously juvenile and explicit. My blocker is forbidding me to go on facebook, but midnight is supposed to be a new day and it's five past midnight now. what de hell? ahhh...there we go. ciao.

Naknek, AK

I spent the summer in Naknek, AK a couple summers ago. I didn't have a camera at the time, so I had no pictures. But my buddy Joey just sent me this video he made about the experience. It does a pretty good job of showing what the place was like, albeit from a slightly different perspective than my own.

Joy isn't always beautiful

Tonight I went to a movie called Oddsac. It is a collaboration between Danny Perez and Animal Collective and, essentially a feature-length music video. Yes, I realize a feature-length music video sounds like a bad idea, but it held my attention the whole time. I really enjoyed it.

Afterward Perez and some dude from Collective went up front and answered questions that the audience had. I almost wish they hadn't because I didn't think they said anything worth hearing. They were both almost certainly a drunk (or a little drugged out) and answered most of the audience's questions with responses that ran roughly along the lines of "it's really not that interesting". Most terribly, someone asked what the makers of the movie and the music wanted audiences to walk away with, what was the point of the film, why should people watch it? The answer was that there was no point. They simply enjoy watching it and hoped other people would too.

Part of me is okay with that, because I've always loved the Golding quote: "an author should forget the point of his book as soon as he's finished writing it" (that's a very rough reinterpretation of what he said, but it is something like that). I like that quote because I think everyone should be able to derive their own meaning from the things they read, watch and listen to. I've also always liked the exchange in Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story where the filmmakers are trying to figure out why they are making their movie. Finally one man says "To make people laugh." His friend responds, "Is that all?" And HE says, "Is that not enough?" Simply being given the excuse to laugh, the opportunity to feel amused can be incredibly valid.

However, it seemed to me that Animal Collective had no meaning of their own to begin with, which bothered me. I appreciate an artist refusing to impose their values or ideas on their audience, but why oh why are you doing something if it doesn't mean anything to you? Why invest so much of your time and energy into something that you only LIKE? As there is no meaning to the movie, it is a project that simply exists. (And is that so wrong? For something to simply exist? Is it as necessary as I want it to be for things to MATTER in more ways than simply for their aesthetic appeal? Maybe not. But I want them to. I want for us to at least try to find something bigger.)

Anywho, there was one scene at the end of the movie that I found particularly interesting and that is what inspired the title of this post. In this scene there are four women in a kitchen making cookies or something similar. They seem to be having a pleasantish time. Then this creepy creature appears between them. It has red, glittery skin and a white turban on its head, which doubles as its eyes and are large, fist sized knots. He seems to attempt to interrupt their conservation, which made me think he was supposed to be the proverbial "elephant in the room", but whenever he tries to shift their attention to him, they just laugh, and among each other, not at him. Finally he starts screaming and screaming and screaming and dancing and, next thing you know, the four ladies have joined in the dancing. It's very tribal, and throughout the entire thing they are laughing about as hard as it is possible to laugh. They are also having an epic food fight, throwing flour and eggs and sugar everywhere throughout the rest of the sequence. And as I was watching the sequence all I could think was that joy is not always beautiful. But it's joy and it feels hella good even when it's ringed by fear or violence.

2-2-6

oopsies,

lost it.

it slipped between the seats.

somewhere,

last night,

it got away from me.

dead air,

no sparks,

in our in between.

fresh eyes

see it

perhaps this shouldn't be.

not sad,

joyful,

cascading with happy.

power,

control,

because i am now free.

fingers,

pulling,

detached from him and me.

smile,

heehee,

and all the dead is green.

Will someone please make me better? Water and snot keep pouring down my face and I can't stop coughing and sneezing. Being ill is the worst.

What is a Community Service Officer? The title is worse than rent-a-cop...and according to the SUV that keeps driving past me, it's actually official. HA!

Lies

I lie to me

So constantly

It's hard to know the truth.

I fantasize

Through fibs and lies

I love my sweet untruths.

These Belong Together...

Skin

Shame.

Squeeze,

Fingernails,

Breathe in, 2, 3...

Not me

Not me

Not me

Then who?

Then who?

Then who?

Smooth skin slipping

Like wet stones

Beneath these fingers.

What strings pull them

That way, then this

As I try to find those lips?

Mistake.

Stupid.

Nothing there,

Merely smoke beneath my fingers.

That silken marble just as solid

As a broken promise on the breeze.

It isn't mine,

It's not for me,

But in a certain frame of mind

I let myself believe

With a dead drunk, sad caress

That this wrongness

Between we two

Could be a little true.

Murder

Lies, lies, lies

So sick of breathing LIES.

Look me in the face and

See the truth here in my eyes.

I cannot say the words;

They scare me.

(That's the truth.)

Hard as I try, I can't free me

And it's all because of you.

You knew, you knew, you really knew

I heard it in your voice.

Then, of course, I knew you knew

So I had no choice.

I laughed and called it stupid

Cocked, aimed, and I shot Cupid.

He fluttered, hit the pavement.

And with an ultrasonic crack,

That little darling Cupid

Broke his tiny back.

"I Was" Series

Going to Tell You
I was going to tell you.
Not the time you tried to ask.
I was going to tell you.
She (I?) convinced me you should know.
I was going to tell you.
Because I love the way you feel.
I was going to tell you.
Because your smile's like the sun.
It doesn't make my heart melt.
(But makes the ice around it start to run.)
I was going to tell you.
Was going to give it to you straight.
I was going to tell you.
But it will have to wait
Until it is no longer true.
And then when all its color
Has faded into blacks and blues
I'll still refuse to tell you
Because I hate to lose.

Getting Better
I was getting better.
It took me way too long.
I was getting better.
Things didn't feel so wrong.
I was getting better.
But it got obvious so
You killed it.
Now it's dead.
You say you want me happy
And in a way I think that's true
But unless it's happiness on your terms
You've made it clear you won't approve.
I was getting better.
Both in myself and in the world.
I was getting better.
Glee had been unfurled.
Its colors were so stunning
It shone both light and dark.
I was getting better.
Now everything is stark.
I was getting better.
But now I've lost my way.
I was getting better,
I breathed deeper every day.
The air was clear, cool and sweet.
The ground smoothed out beneath my feet.
Everything was better.
Then you pushed.
I fell.
Defeat.

Sleep is for the weak.

Sleep is one of my favorite things in the entire world. I have a habit of sleeping too much, because I have epic dreams that I enjoy participating in. Being in a world where violence of epic proportions is acceptable, painless, and generally non-fatal is pretty fricking sweet. Everything is technicolor and simple and accessible and controllable. Interpreting dreams is one of my favorite past-times, not because I think dreams themselves can tell us anything, but because I think that what we think our dreams are trying to tell us is incredibly indicative of what's actually going down in us. Never would I ever seriously ask someone to interpret one of my dreams for me, because I would get an interpretation of their inner-state instead of mine. Once upon a time I wrote down a dream and coupled it with an interpretation. About a year later I stumbled across the dream and started interpreting it before I got to my old interpretation. They were black and white different. Try the same yourself. I can tell you for shizzley that your interpretations will not match unless you do not change as a person, in which case...I'm sorry.

RAMBLING.

POINT: I don't just love sleep because I love dreaming or because it is invigorating or because it's healthy...I love sleep because of what happens when you DON'T. I think it's cool that there's a dude who has gone 35 years without sleeping. Not sleeping kills some people, but he makes it work. I dug The Machinist as much as the next gal and I fricking love the questions it raises. How badly do we need sleep, really? What brings on sleep deprivation? If we don't sleep will dreams start to overwrite reality? Someone once told me that everything that people feel via drug use can also be achieved through sleep deprivation. I don't have a source for that one. HEARSAY.

We can go about this experiment however we want. If you want to overload yourself with caffeine, do it. If you want to pinch yourself whenever your eyes start to get heavy, sweet. If you want to hire someone to follow you with a horn (me! I need another job, yo), perfect. I'm going to go the natural route. I'm going to eat as natural of foods as I can, with as few preservatives and caffeine and unnaturally occurring sugars as is humanly possible in this day and age. A website just told me that people die from sleep deprivation. The record is 11 days. I don't plan on hitting that because spring break is only a week. Regardless, if you feel on the cusp of death, hit the sack. Holly will not be responsible for your untimely, sleepless demise. But I'm going to see how far I can push myself and you're invited to join. I will be starting on Friday.

Sleep is for the weak. Shun it with me.