how does one say

i don't FREAKIN care

(annoyed...i'm just annoyed)

my dedication

One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

He's in my house.

"Why is he here?"

He's down the hall.

"What did he do this time?"

He's asleep on his bed.

I feel like the cork on this bottle is about to explode. I'm hiding any and all emotion; I feel like an icy witch (maybe bitch, really). I don't really know what to think about that. I don't really know what to feel. I almost felt overwhelmed by emotion. I almost let myself cry; I nearly smiled. Instead, I hid it all away under the thick layer of skin and pretended it's all the same and no big deal. I'll not care for a while; he just might leave again. If I attach, I'll hurt. Instead, I'll pretend.

BUT HE'S HERE...and I don't know what to do.

Insomnia (I'm just tired!)

Creak. Creak. Creeeeeeaaaaaak.
the fan in
my small, four walled room
of red paint and books read

Hum. Hum. Hummmmmmmmm.
the refrigerator in
the long, narrow kitchen
of wooden drawers and drawings posted

Thump, Thump. Thump, Thump.
the heart in
my lonely, hollow chest
of hopes & dreams and dreaming lies

I cut all my hair off today. I donated it to locks of love. I cut it all off. It's cute short, but it'll definitely take some getting used to.

*****

It kinda sucks being the sister of the groom. Not nearly as much fun as being the friend of the bride. I am totally annoyed and sick of....well, school and party stuff and everything in general. I'll get over it, but it sucks now.

*****

My senior English class gets to watch V for Vendetta for another two days or so. YAY! It's a great movie that goes with our theme: utopia/dystopia. I look forward to that class everyday now! ;) YAY!

أسماء المنور : يا غالية مبروك

Libyan song, Morroccan singer. Yeah, it rocks!

I miss writing.

What needs recording? My thoughts? My emotions? My actions?

I think about too many things at once. I think my mind is too full of crap. I think of people. I think of events. I think of what I want to do. I think of what I did. I think of what I didn't do. I think of the hims in my life. I think about the girls. I think about writing (though I rarely make time to do it). I think about the deep blue ocean (though I have yet to see it). I think about the green, green grass (though I have yet to feel it beneath my toes this season). I think about you (yeah, you). I think about me (okay, I think about me a lot). I think of random thoughts. I think therefore my brain works. I think therefore I am...weird.

I feel like shooting myself when kids don't know how to read the freaking handout I gave them. I feel lonely. I felt happiness when telling her about school and my "kids." I feel desperation creeping up through every pore; school should be over already. I feel like yelling and crying and running around with a jump rope (all at the same time?). I feel like kissing and telling. I feel like dancing (always do). I feel like running ten laps around the gym. I feel like completing another 5k. I feel like hugging and laughing. I feel like throwing the ball as hard as I can. I feel like skipping in the hallway and pushing hair off foreheads. I feel like gazing at the stars (so like eyes they capture souls). I feel like my heart just might burst with packing beans. I feel like laughing at such a crazy visual. I feel like holding hands and silence. I feel like love. I feel hate. I feel therefore I hurt. I feel therefore I forget and turn away.

I ran 5k. I listened to music. I threw the balls. I hit him back. I laughed inside. I dreamt in black and white with a sprinkle of color. I chat. I spat (not really). I fat (doesn't really make sense). I rocked the scene with blue eyeshadow. I cracked up the spot with hot pink lipstick. I walked. I ran. I sang in my head. I cried (yeah, right). I grazed the hand of time with the feather on the back of my cap (Yankee Doodle style). I rocked the tie dye. I worked the event. I made money. I want more. I'll get what I can and forget the rest of the world.

I think...I feel.....I did....

*nothing

you should know

1. I procrastinate as if there are no time limits.
2. Although I don't let it run me over, I tend to be a jealous person. Not envious (heavens no), but jealous in a weird way. I am jealous when it comes to my friends. I don't need to explain now.
3. I have a real weakness for Lindt white chocolate truffles. YUM!
4. The small of my back is the perfect place to rest his (whose?) hand.
5. I love freckles and wish I had more prominent freckles.
6. I am always exhausted.
7. I truly love making lists.

Of course I don't love him! (better titled 'ramblings are really the only way to go')

Well, I would never be with him. Actually, he has many faults. First he ___, then there's the issue with _____, not to mention the problem of _____. That's just the beginning. See, I'd never actually do it because I wouldn't expect him to change.

The fact that you have a list of his faults really means you've considered him.

if only she knew the half of it
she'd shoot me down
it's scary to think friends
know enough about you
to see when things are wrong
and know too much about you
to see when you try to
hide behind a mask of
false identity-
they know your smell
they know your voice
they know your hair color
they know your shoe size
they know your heart's desire
they know your heart's fears
they listen when you laugh the loudest
or cry the softest and they know
exactly why or at least how
to be there
when you really want
them all to go away

i just wanted to document
a moment of truth with
one particular friend
during one particular conversation
on one particularly cruel subject.
instead i painted a
portrait of my friends
and our peculiar relationship
of love

at times like these,
i want to renounce marriage
and family
and friends

at times like these,
i want to run away
from troubles
from worries
from life
from this city
from commitment
from work

i don't think i would
wish to have this
hassle upon
anyone in the
whole entire world

i can't ever be
suicidal,
not really,
but if i could
i'd go out
with a
bang
now

i will manage to
get through all of this
but i am getting angrier
and not so much
happier

i seem to want things
i can't really have
and abhor things
i need to really love
and dismiss things
i really just need

i seem to be so frustrated
with anything
and everything
(all of it nothing really)

i hate this planning and
the 'try not to look at my toes' and
the 'i'm trying not to step on your feet' and
the 'was that your spot i took'

i hate all of this
i don't mean to be mean
or maybe i do

i don't mean to be spiteful
but maybe i'm not
maybe i'm just dishing
back what was served
to me when i was
not looking-
the moment
they fed me the poisoned
pomegranite
(or was it a fig)

either way
this is not a good time
can you come back the third tomorrow of next month?

*****************************

No, really
i AM okay