presumably profound

loss of life is something that has weighed on my mind alot recently. It seems so unthinkable that, one day, i will just cease to exist. i wish i could accept that fact, butlife-overall- is such a...place to be. i'm under the impression that there really isn't anything after you die- just nothingness-and is there is, how can it begin to compare? in life there is just so much to do- the whole world is jus there for the taking(thats right, im taking over the world). with proper effort, a person can do most anything.
like flying--one of my life goals-- with out an airplane...all you have to do is throw yourself at the ground until you miss.
anyways...Honestly, i tell myself that if i was to die at any moment-i would be ok with that, i try to make myself believe that i did everything i wanted to , that i'm happy with the way i've lived my life. Well, clearly, nooone is completely happy with the way they've lived. there's always something more they could be doing regardless of their age, who they are, social status, or occupation. I want tobe able to be more honest, to do what i want without having to worry about who might gethurt-but,alos, on the flipside of that- i wish that i could be able to be more understandingof other's feelings ( yes, cliche, i realize) , to be a nicer mor egenerous person/friend. i always think there's something more i could be doing to better my relationships with others and im just too lazy or anti social to do it. there are very few things i hate more than having to admit that yes i am a bitch, buti always wish people could understand everything else thats going on in my head that could be the root of aforementioned bitchiness..but they're never going to, and thats my doing as well, people can't possibly begin to understand each other until everybody is able to vocalize their feelings and thoughts. so it is my fault, becasue i know that i need to say my thoughts and, yet, i dont.
So. i AM the one responsible for my issues, and therefore, must accept that, until i do something about it and trust people not to let me down, i will be dissapointed in that aspect of my life.

today i learned how to be dissapointed in other people
again
and myself
i really want to be the person i used to be, i want to be able to forgive the stupid things that won't matter in 10 years, however, im finding myself more and more caught up in little things, in things that can't possibly matter and on a logical level--i know that and im telling myself that constantly, but, apparently, i have multiple personalities. one of which is crazy emotional and teenager-y and angsty and willing to get caught up in stupid drama. maybe thats just a byproduct of all the emotions i've suppressed over the years, and my poor little logic-controlled head is trying to get back at me for the emotional neglect i have put it through in the past.
what a self-betrayal

and here i was hoping that only the intelligent, logical level of my personality would know that i was being suppressive.
unfortunatley i know myself better than i thought i did

dammit

Save the Last Dance

right now im watching save the last dance, i haven't seen it completely in a couple of years and consequently had forgotten how much i liked it.
but this is not the point
the point is that i wish i had stuck with some form of dancing, or something that is slightly time consuming or a hobby

haha speaking of save the last dance, julia stiles just told some guy the he sure talks alot for someone who never says anything

i have known people like that, but also, i have been like that
just talking for no reason except to take up space--thats something i should work on, but sometimes its hard to stop talking for fear of having to listen

hmmmmm i also have this severe fear of invasion of privacy, unless its someone i really trust or have faith in
it just occured to me that there's a difference between trusting people and having faith in them

i would trust many people with my secrets or my feelings but i wouldn't have the faith in them to call them in tears and not feel embarrassed the next day

i love the part of this movie when she's learning how to dance hip hop with the guy and you can see her gradually regaining faith in the thing that she loves and remembering why it is that she cared so much about dancing
and then a commercial comes on and ruins the moment

well...cynicism

sometimes, people just let you down, its ridiculous i know,
this was a hard concept for me to grasp until just recently

i wish,though, that i had realized that earlier
anyways, speaking of people...
i wish that i had a great uncle milton
and yesterday was just weird

Daddy
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time --
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You --

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two --
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

Sylvia Plath