17,000 (ortheslowestnightofthieves)

it is perhaps one of the slowest nights at this hotel that i've ever experienced. and 3 and a half more hours to go.

i have researched three people so far tonight. (i'm starting this thing where I research people randomly).they can either be for educational purposes or they can be for social purposes. ( i guess overall, it's all for educational purposes.) I just want to learn about people. I'm a fucking nerd I tell you. Last night I researched 10 words from the dictionary. I'm also trying to extend my vocabulary, I guess.

tonight:
(more social than scholarly)

1. Anne of Cleves- the 4th wife of King Henry. She was married to the King for a mere 4 months. He divorced her because he thought she was ugly. They never had sex.

2. Cory Kennedy -a model who is 18 years old and has over 17,000 "friends" on her myspace account. I don't really know how I feel about her. She says the word "like" way too many times and parties with Paris Hilton. I'm not hatin' but she seems like just another pretty face. Not too much else going on.

3. Chan Marshall aka Cat Power- amazing singer, recovering alcoholic. She fasinates me. She is a social phobe/manic depressive/suicidal/beauty. Her voice is a relic.

ok. so, that is my night so far. maybe i'll be a fucking dork later and post some new words for anyone (if there is anyone) who reads this.

around 11 p.m.

when lovers act out in spontanious motion, say at 11 at night, the sight could possibly burn eyes.
inside out. out in the inside. the look in eyes, for one slight moment could cause an explosion no one has seen before.
it can make the oldest young or the smartest dumb.

it can break your heart in ways never felt before.

your skin would change color. (possibly, all things are possible when it's felt, felt right)

lovers. simple at best, tragic when confined. tragic when problems are made that need not be. beautiful at it's most simple truimph. when you wake up in the morning next to her shoulder and simply want nothing more...

when you can be simple and not desire anything other than her simple breath, in her simple room, in the simple day, in the simple hour

that is flown into your chest.

i don't like (him).

faith is talked about too much.

give me concrete.

motion picture (filmsfilmsfilms)

and i've decieded that there are not enough champions or heroes or lovers. lovers.lovers.

love her.

ok. (so my favorite movies, to distract my before mentioned statement)

1. magnolia- what the fuck is paul thomas anderson. (this is not a question. this is a statement) you are not human. you are illegal. your mind is a weapon and your heart is a ship. i can't control my feelings for this movie, nor would i want to. you, you, you. (fucking kill it).

2. the royal tennenbaums- wed anderson. wes anderson. wes anderson. margot. suicide scene. elliott smith. red adidas tracksuits. the past, the past, the past.
mordicai!

3. me you and everyone we know- miranda july, have my babies (or just make another movie please)

honorable mentions: ghost world, american beauty, i heart huckabees, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, punch-drunk love, etc.

recluse.

wake up in the sevens
(what) a strange last night
my thoughts furious in the thousands
tonight
come close to check
re read and re write.
(what) a strange last night.

you are a recluse (you always were)
i am a recluse (i always was)
you are a recluse (we always were)
primal, in fact we fall in love

(before)

plenty, i find
into walls, into walls
come on
and pretend we see this armor (before)

caustic, because i think i write with control.

prayer (flume).

sitting in the backseat of the van that she rented, three women in the back but somtimes i feel like a girl.

your last night. and you played bon iver as we were driving home. held hands with dan as the first song made me break into tears...didnt want anyone to see so i turned to the right towards the car window (secretly wanting to crash into the glass, secretly wanting you to stay).

every song made me cry. you don't know who you are to me, you don't know, you don't.

i prayed last night before i fell asleep that the god(s) keep you safe. i wished this morning to an eyelash on my fingertips.

for every night that you are gone, i will light a candle (mother mary, how fitting) and wish you nothing but life

reckless and straightway dangerous (in full blown growth mode).

iloveyou.

wake up in the sevens, ( )

school has started up again today, after a brief week that has seemed more like an eternity. a lot has happened within the week. a lot has developed, decayed, and progressed.

got a puppy. her name is ophelia james and she is the most adorable descent into happiness i've ever experienced.

started working on my own at a new job. it's limitless in head space and blog writing.

quit my job at peet's. no more discounted lattes, but i need to cut back on that anyway.

fucking obsessed with sigur ros. but when is that not the case? i don't care. i want to fall asleep to this album every night for a while. with no talking except for the slight samples he uses.

my god, he's fucking beautiful.

(you are not human by the way. no human could do this. no human could do this.)

closing shift. (99)

and so. it goes.
i'm not surprised. and is that a horrible and cynical thing to say?
i have a caustic way of thinking when it comes to relationships with any human being, mainly because it involves way too many emotions and developements and common blank walls.
and by relationships, i'm not narrowing it down to merely love.
friendships.
family.
those well loved casual conversations with strangers.
intimate nothings with characters you find in movies or screenplays.

they are all connected. it is all involved. and from what i've found, we are all very self-abosrbed and selfish.

i don't care what anyone says. that is why blogs were invented. that is why people use them. to rant and to engage the senses that only WE think about. here in this lone world of the mind numbing internet, it is merely YOU, I, ME, OUR, and the SELF.

and she claimed that this is all for me.

it's hard to believe that we don't think about ourselves most of the time. not even out of selfishness or splendor, but out of sheer concern for what's next. it's not because i love myself or think that i am doing anything remotely important or different from the next girl with brown hair and an awkward greeting...

no. i know that i am not. i know that the world will forever go on with or without my head full of worries, doubts, and trangressions.

darlin, we don't mean anything. trust me. i know this. and the tears were real. but they werent for anything other than the mere realization thatageageageagedoesdoesntdoesdoesnt matter.

all i know is what i've experienced. i can think about others or read about others or subjects to gain further knowledge on...but i won't ever fully know anything other than the nerves and veins in my thoughts and blood.

being human is fleeting. everyday, that reflux. crossing the street can trigger an emotional breakdown from a memory of father and self at 5. tying your shoe can open up a sensation of love for your partner. watching a movie can sustain confidence in a decision that you werent sure of.

the capacity for our emotions and lingering nostalgia/motives/endeavors/beliefs is complex and frightening.

and now i am left with the ideal to not speak about any of those...or atleast to not go in depth or at length in an effort to not sound so enthused about my own self. which sounds fucking stupid yet honorable.

and all of this sound so layered, drastic and diabolic.

when all i really want is some core of rooted skin, a warm bed, an inviting embrace, and an interesting book at night.




fuck.

downdowndown, spine.

a stranger gave me some advice today. she listened and it came suddenly. the realization that years do matter and that experience comes in time. love is essential and surreal when it's heavy. the one i love is permanent and not just a fleeting emotion. i hold that ideal dearly.

and it's clear. i need an ipod, soon. when things hit, i go to my ipod and sink into headphones. i think i lost my ipod on my birthday trip with the girls. tucked away in the glove box...or in someone else's hands and ears. all my music. comfort. calm. gone.

so, today...when it would have been a godsend, it wasant there. and so, all i had were my raw emotions and full blown mind.

i'd rather music fill down my spine.

hours to kill without it is damaging.