tetris 500

she almost won with 9 laps to go today but then came in fourth. i know how you feel danika. i know how you feel.

tetris... what an addiction. i'm thoroughly convinced that the tetris producers placed subliminal messages in the game (like in that one episode of saved by the bell) to keep you playing and wanting sourcream and onion chips. tortilla chips'll do, or at least they did. after about 3 hours of not beating the high score attained in the first 5 minutes, i'll be back... especially if there is a a wrestling match, a picture slideshow and a spastic beagle tantrum going on in the immediate vacinity.

that's right folks-- utter and complete chaos... but the good kind for a change... similar to a piano flooding the house with that nothing but the blood melody while big brother screams profanities at mom... well maybe a little bit more positive chaos than that. this kind of chaos makes you feel like you are in a movie but most of the time makes you think, "maybe i should make a movie about the life i lead or at least that which everyone around me leads".

in those moments, you should grab mediva's wooden camera and film all that's going on... film the reasons why she loves them. there's so much happening you have to film it, the south african boy from capetown ghetto knew that and he wasn't even "educated", i wish i knew, wish i had a camera... especially during that tetris turnament.

and danika thought she made history...

stilllharmonic orchestra

pink floyd and s. mclachland say it better than i ever could right now...

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain. Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell? And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage? How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have you found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

* * *

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance, for a break that would make it okay. there's always one reason to feel "not good enough" and it's hard at the end of the day. I need some distraction--oh beautiful release, memory seeps from my veins. let me be emptyand weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight.

such songs played through the blake & lamb parlor tonight as orchestra of sniffs and sobs filled the atmosphere. never thought i'd have an instrument to play... but then again of course i did. i showed up pretty late... almost not at all. i didn't want to play along. the pictures and his stillness in his youth forced me to join in. i'm glad i did. maybe because i did, i won't have to take lessons on the instrument later that i already should have learned how to play. i'm not quite sure. i do know this though... it was harder than i thought it would be. a bigger deal than everyone else knows it to be. and much more complicated than it should be.

thanks for calling... i know you feel helpless but know that it's so important during this sad song.

going out of business sale

so maybe i didn't really like the book that much but i didn't mean that someone needed to rip out the last seven chapters before finding out the ending. books usually pickup near the end, don't they? and that store down the street closed and while it always was a rip off-- at least there was a store. then there's that ugly sweater that never got worn but now becasue of the themed "cosbie sweater" party, it would have been the most ingenius thing to wear... too bad it was sold 2 for $.50 in that garage sale of 1999.

it's kinda like that but not really at all. the book is ruined, the store shut down and the sweater is sold. to some-- that book, store and sweater meant a lot more than they did to me-- obviosly. but if i'm honest... maybe not so obviously. besides the content, getting ripped off and it never being worn, maybe there's more meaning in those things than i want to admit or that i even am capable of admitting right now. what do i do about that?

maybe he's gone now. what do i do about that?

the trunk won't shut!

mary jane was packed up four times yesterday. glatis-- twice. driving off i think of a song from last year's move out day...

another unfinished chapter closes
'cause there's nothing left to write.
no adjective or metephor can describe these circumstances
the pages don't justify
and i wonder what you're thinkin' tonight
i wonder what you're thinkin' tonight

i'm takin' this step of faith
narrate my life away
author this day
write your will
and your way

reading through as life passes by
losing control of this story
so strange to be stuck between the lines
in this unfamiliar territory
and i wonder where you are tonight
i wonder where you are tonight

it may not be what i would have wrote
chapter 3-- it could go untold
but where would i be
where would we be

time to remember a few happy things: steve, 10 minutes (kinda), dead possums (that's how it should be spelled... worthless, oversized rodents), people watching jo and katie, small group nap, amanda w, seeing marcia, down with the sickness, 1000 dixie cups stapled together

through the windshield

thought i would throw ambiguous out the window tonight...

here i sit in the galleria late in the evening, knowing full well that i need to study. i also sit knowing full well that tomorrow is the last day of finals, the last day to see many for a long time and i'm in denial. last year i felt ready to leave this placein a sense... for them to leave... even relieved at some points. this year... oh this year.

there are a lot of things i wish i could have changed about this year. i might call it the hardest of my life. it's been a year of sadness, regret, loss, survival, disappointment, hurt, failure, change. i've never missed myself or my friends more than this year. i've never wanted to jump out of my skin and rush god into forming me more quickly into what he has intended me to be-- without the doubting faith of thomas. i've never felt so humbled or so inadequate in the presence of those i love, those i've hurt. i've never come so close to self-contempt.

be careful when you ask god to break you of your pride. by all means do it but be ready for him to be faithful. i wasn't. i wasn't ready to face myself. i wasn't ready to have my faith comepletely rocked. i wasn't ready for everything that i clung to besides him to be ripped from my grasp. i wasn't ready to stop living and start surviving. i wasn't ready to lose my best friend... and other ties too.

in this unprepared state i had pushed people away. i became somewhat of a monster. i gave in to temptation. i accepted substitutes for the real thing. i stopped laughing and joking and became very intense. when dissatisfied with myself i shut others out. i couldn't articulate much of any thought so i often said nothing. i lost my presence and concern in many lives of those i love.

do i believe in spiritual warfare? yes i do. do i believe that i have been blessed beyond belief with wonderful connections and deep friendship that show me who christ is? yes i do. do i believe that satan hated it and saw the threat arising? yes i do. do i believe that a lot is broken in life because of that? yes i do.

so now what? i sit in a state of irresolution and uncertainty-- writing, writing what i don't say, what i wish i said, what i couldn't have said. why? i don't really know. i might regret it tomorrow. i want to be a more christlike woman. i want to portray his love and character to those around me. to you, i know you are reading. i've failed. i appologize for any hurt i've caused you this year. i didn't want it to happen. i didn't want to miss you all the time. i didn't want to seem uninterested or unconcerned about you and who you are. all of you.

so here i leave it. i leave this past year. i want to leave the sadness, regret, loss, survival, disappointment, hurt, failure, change. i do but i don't know if it works like that. i won't forget and probably won't stop feeling those things but as i do more evaluating and seeking he will use those things to form me further into that new creation... further into a 1 Cor. 13 lover... that is my prayer for both you and me.

let him make us more like him... make us all more like him as we enter this summer and a new semester next year, some doing things we love others things we hate, others things we are nervous about... knowing it isn't where we are or what we are doing but where our hearts are. i want mine and your heart to be changed so that when we meet again we will be able to shine who he is on one another so much more clearly... selflessly... if that's not what i'm about... i don't want to be about anything.

vacuum cleaners, light rock and caffiene

4:15 AM

"studying for a test?" she asks.
"yep," they reply.
"good, then you won't end up here, like me," she shares.

it's the third time mopping the floor that shift as total eclipse of the heart, free fallin' and dido's surrender have all play over head. dying for conversation, opportunity but that's all she says and that's what she does. why? some say its her fault--ignorant. it's what she deserves for not working hard enough--liars.

"if you work hard, you will rise to the top."-- i hear the cymbal ring now; we all do. it drowns out facts-- society is neither just nor democratic. "equal opportunity" what? that's about as genius as "separate but equal"... who are we kidding? not everyone has the same opportunities. as the cymbal clangs so does the idea that working hard causes you to get what you deserve. gather up all the marbles and keep them in your hand while others have to survive with none. this is fair.

inequality is inevitable in this society but how much must be tolerated. how much judgement should she recieve when she says, "good, then you won't end up here, like me"?

"it's your fault." the options are infinite--work a bad job or no job. but if you don't want to work a bad job, if you don't want to be miserable, you're lazy. don't forget it. just get the grade, cheat, lie, kill, steel, do what you have to do... oh yeah only if you are rich though.

how many rich people are on death row?

a few things jesus

help him be patient. make her see herself as the beautiful person she is. give him conviction sooner than later. be the comforter that answers her questions and makes her know there is good beneath in all. let her know... often she says just the right thing. grant her akceptance. make her willing to include new people. don't let her believe what her "mom" says about her. heal the relationships that have just taken a few bad turns. heal her mom from this cancer. give them a blessed marraige. pursue and comfort her. make him respect women. keep him pure. give us self-control and motivation to stay away from that. make her know that i love her. keep out of trouble and put people in his path to show him your love. give her some of the rest she's been needing. bring them back home safely. help them connect with those kids and see them how you do. let her do more than just make it through the summer. get the junk out of her head and give her some peace. give her friends in this new state she's going to live. give her food and love today. help those i didn't mention see you in a new way today. thank you.

misunderstood (don't take this the wrong way)

a profane word in one language often sounds like an ordinary word in another. fuck sounds like the french words for seal (phoque) and jib (foc), as well as the romania word for do (I do = eu fac); shit sounds like the russian for "to sew". even names in one language may appear as vulgar words in another linguistic community, which causes many immigrants to change their names (common vietnamese personal names include Phuc and Bich). a particular coincidence is the hungarian and spanish words for curve: spanish curva sounds like a slavic and hungarian kurva meaning "prostitute", and hungarian kanyar sounds like coño, mentioned above. In romanian curva means "prostitute". see another example in laputa. additionally, puta is genitive and accusative case of two often used words in south slavic languages; but in portuguese, means "prostitute", and filho da - is an offensive word, similar to son of a bitch.

i sometimes feel like i like i speak a different language... one that is offensive to almost everyone else. i question why it is that my actions and words are taken as profanity. eu fac care about you, all of you. i don't know what to do with that all the time... don't know what to do about hurting people but at the same time I often feel like i'm only talking about seals, curves and jibs.

that man says you probably hurt yourself more that you hurt other people... what a concept. he doesn't know much... but then again who really does? who's to say he doesn't? we're all learning in this place we call home. we're learning to communicate, to understand the difference love, body and foreign languages that each of us speak. we are misunderstood-- i just think about trying to pronounce name of children in russia, one as croatia while "n's" look like sound like "h's" and new letters exist looking like this: "Ж". that child might have been offended, maybe not, but here people laugh because they know i'm just learning.

maybe i do try to speak too many languages, yes they others get a little rusty when focusing on a new language or one that you need to learn right now promptly. you don't forget when you are thrown back into the culture with the languageyou learned prior-- it comes back, if you want it to that is. I do... maybe when speaking other languages again those verbs aren't conjegated just right but "amor" doesn't change.

karaoke superstars

loneliness... "more people live alone in this country than ever before. in 1950, only 10 percent of households consisted of just one person, but by 1994, 24 percent of households had only one person--which means that 12 percent of the adult population lives alone. a 1990 Gallup poll found that more than 36 percent of americans say they are lonely". -- cecile andrews

ask people when they sing... i guarentee that they will answer, "in the car or in the shower"-- for the most part. ask them when they dance... well in some instututions the answer is "we don't dance" but if they do dance, they do it alone in their living room. here are basic human activities that people have done throughout history as a source of joy and community, and it has almost totally disappeared from our lives as the become individualized.

in this society needing others tends to be stigmatized as a sign of weakness. when we need we become vulnerable and less independent (oh no!). independence is doing wonders for the US...

as for those that are needed, do you ever feel like you must have something very signicant to offer to attain such a position of value? maybe instead of loving because you need, its more of a needing because you love. i hope so. if you know you are loved then i think you're needed too, at least on a personal level-- now at a business level... i do not know...

"when life seems chaotic, you don't need people giving you easy answers or cheap promises. there might not be any answers to you problems. what you need is a safe place where you can bounce with people who have taken some bad hops of their own."
--anonymous

hm.

snooze button

i almost did it today... the thing i dreaded most as a freshman. i wanted to. i wanted to give him the credit that i've too often taken for myself. the truth is... i didn't care. about anything. i didn't care about the oppressed or those that weren't like me. they were more so the objects of my cold humor. ignorance flooded my being and i wanted it to drown me. caring took too much thought and energy. now... now i can't not care. it hurts to care. it's often consuming. honestly-- i'm okay with that. what i'm even more okay with is the fact that i would still be that abrasive, shallow, in-trouble shmo that i was if he didn't wake me up on that crushing night in april. he woke me and had me put my hand in his side and my fingers through his hands. how was thomas' doubt honoring?

there have been a lot more wakeup calls this past year that i'm not yet okay with yet-- a lot more getting my hands dirty but the experience above gives me hope. that's all i need. for now...

"Everything that is done in the world is done by hope. "
--Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

brand new

Passed out on the overpass
Sunday best and broken glass
Broken down from the bikes and bars
Suspended like spirits over speeding cars
You and me were kings over the parkway tonight
And tonight will go on forever while we
walk around this town like we own the streets
and stay awake through summer like we own the heat
Singing "everybody wake up (wake up)
it's time to get down" (everybody, everybody wake up its time to get down)
And when I pass the bottle back to
Pete on the overpass tonight, I bet we laugh

I'm gonna stay eighteen forever (cut me open)
So we can stay like this forever (sun poisoned)
And we'll never miss a party (this offer...)
cause we keep them going constantly (...stands forever)
And we'll never have to listen (new haircut)
to anyone about anything (new bracelet)
cause it's all been done and it's all been said (eyeliner)
we're the coolest kids and we take what we can get

The hell out of this town
Find some conversation
The low fuel lights been on for days
It doesn't mean anything I've got another 500,
'nother 500 miles before we shut this engine down...

hard things: regret. not being able to put your thoughts into words. being misunderstood. surviving instead of living. putting up boundaries. not knowing how to show you care. losing trust. change with deep loss. the outside looking in. knowing a lot of information no one else knows. being humbled. missing friends. dealing with the consequences. being inconsistant. empathy. failing many times over. the end of the year. not knowing who you are.

blessings: awareness. being quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry. understanding why. appreciating a good day. becoming a safer person. praying is active. being able to accept imperfection. being open to others that were also outside looking in. knowing that you are trustworthy. getting rid of pride. becoming more appreciative and less ungrateful. attaining wisdom. campassion. being a safe place. not being as afraid of failure as you used to be. a new beginning. knowing there is a purpose for finding out.

parallels? arguably... i love you all more than you know... more than i show... why? i'm sorry... again (that was a personal message-- one of the first).