Existentialize · this.

9 things that are common with the color yellow:
9. my winter formal dresssss!!!! wheeeeee!!!!!! i love yellow!!!!!!
8. <3 my goldfish necklace from Zack
7. next week, my hair will be yellow again! can't wait!
6. post-its
5. "yellow is the color of the sunlight"
4. my house in costa mesa (yellow w/ white trim...ew.)
3. lemon merigunge(sp?) pie
2. my car heh actually it's white but dirty
1. people i know =P

8 things that describe you:
8. exhausted
7. focused
6. unprepared, heh
5. anticipatory
4. cynical
3. elitist =P
2. existential
1. literate

7 things or people that/who have changed your life:
7. my mommy :)
6. transition from middle school to high school
5. Zack, Nhakhanh, & everyone i've known (for better or for worse)
4. Teachers: Mrs. Bakall, Mrs. Hunt, Mrs. Erre, Mrs. Millers,Mrs.Freed, Ms. Peck, Mrs. Harwood, Mr. Marinkovich (shudder), Mrs. Gala
3. calculus bleh
2. random happenings :)
1. medallion for ap english :)

6 things that describe the person that tagged you:
1. anglophile ;)
2. the girl hugh grant is taking to prom
3. classics fanatic
4. random
5. crazy
6. cohort in crime(s)

5 people you're tagging:
5. Mrs. Robinson
4. Johnny Depp
3. George Bush
2. Mr. Gray
1. YOU =P

4 articles of clothing that you are wearing at the moment:
4. hollister brown polka-dot pajama pants mmm so comfy
3. hollister brown tank
2. hollister brown sweater
1. victoria's secret things

3 words about this survey:
3. diverting
2. dichotomy
1. diametric

2 thoughts you have right now:
2. must begin studying for finals ahh
1. i love yellow!

1 confession:
1. A cynic is merely a failed idealist.

Current Mood:	busy
Current Music:	ipod nano w00t

It's because there's only one place I want to go...
Even though I know I won't get in, I can't bring myself to care about any where else.

"There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution."--Wilde

p.s. i'm not emo--just introspective and hypocritical =P

Dedicated to my cohorts in crime--which would be the assassination of poetry--nhakhanh and stephanie, daniel our official chastizer,vanilla javakulas with raspberry syrup and my muse ;).

This is Just to Say...

I used all the chocolate syrup
hidden under your counter

and which you were probably
saving for yourself

Forgive me.
it was gratifying
so rich
so smooth

*

I stole the hood ornament
off your black Jaguar

and which you had
probably yet to drive

Forgive me. it was
sleek
so cold
so hard

*

I scratched the paint
on your pistol

and which you were
probably
waiting to fire

Forgive me. it
was cocked
so warm
so penetrating

[Setting: a suburban park, clean, harsh lines. muted traffic is heard in the background. it is dawn; a woman in her twenties sits alone on a ubiquitous park bench, under a concrete light. the actual light bulb should not be seen, rather it should be like jack's beanstalk--disappearing into the clouds.]

I try not to mix philosophy with Advil.

It's a deadlier combination than vodka and valium--although the alliteration does make it sound rather tempting. An immaculate waiter daintily hoists a silver tray; it's dotted with silver pill boxes--the kind your grandmother keeps in her top drawer, just under her cream satin gloves--and martini glasses, their mercury cargo swishing gelatinously.

"Miss, would you care for a vodka and valium?"

he queries with a faint accent from some place with far more sophistication than the company you are with could ever feign. Only he's never been to Europe--hell, to him Michelangelo is the pizza place around the corner, French merely a type of kiss he gave in high school that lead to the exorbitant child support he works as a waiter to pay off.

Or maybe you're in some nondescript park and the waiter is just a man like any other man but today instead of leaving the pharmacy empty handed, some valium fell into his pocket much like the bottle of vodka from his hand after he's swallowed both. And maybe, that's all he wants--just to fall. Fall down or up makes no difference so long as it doesn't stop. Constant acceleration. That crap they teach us in high school that's supposed to explain why we don't float right out into space.

Even as a perfunctory explanation it plummets woefully far from.... the truth? I don't even know which truth--mine, yours, ours? Perhaps, just some grandiose conception of "Truth"--capital "T", Platonian emphasis, etc etc etc. But I digress...it's a bad habit of mine--not the digressing, I mean, but the inventing stories for strangers...gilding what might not even be rotten. It's just the everyday is so...so--damn I can't pin it down, it keeps fluttering away, one of those goddamn pieces of paper that you see on the freeway, gleefully dancing in the exhaust...I--I almost envy them. Here it is, one piece of paper, alone in the universe, buffeted by life...fuck, why does everything I see remind me of some over-wrought metaphor? Wait, stay--this is gonnna be a beautiful one, a real confection--sticky and sweet with relevancy.

Stay with me. Please. Don't. I'll take it, I swear I will! It's here, sweating in my hand, sugar coating eroding from my indecision. Good. Alright, now we are all those dancing papers, twirling and twisting through our composite haze. While this freeway, this asphalt dance floor is covered with papers, each one is utterly alone. Did you get that part? That's the core concept here--ALONE. [shouts up towards the unseen light bulb] I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, NOW ANSWER ME!!!! IS THAT NOT THE CORE CONCEPT HERE? ALONESS???
[pause takes, a breath for composure, looks into the distance]
Each is influenced by the same irrational wind in its absurd dance, yet, each, each one is moved in a different direction. Maybe it's a left or a right, an up or a down, but all directions lead away from the same place: Truth...

So if that waiter comes by, while you're sitting on your bench in some nondescript park, don't succumb to the alliterative temptation...don't let him turn your truth into something warm and insular, because it's not worth it. It's not worth it.