Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
all. i see. are PORK SWORDS.
and i dont get how i can sit here and write things to you (not you, other you) and act like everything between us is okay. and i dont get how you can sit there and comprehend the things i say and do and not realize that its over.
"it" being that very short lived thing. that thing that i said i didnt want to be a relationship. that thing that you said "we'll just see where it goes." and i assumed we would. but you really meant "let's spend every waking moment together and talk twenty times a day."
dont get me wrong. some girls like that. but i'm not that type of girl. sometimes i even question the amount of estrogen inside of me. during those months i go without crying. i begin to think my heart is no longer pumping blood, but hardening cement into my veins. making a strong barrier to guard my vulnerability.
and it's not you (previous you) who i want to break it. in fact, you may have indirectly fed the poison to my vessels.
and everytime i talk to you (other you, undesired but effective). i can feel the sledgehammer slowly crumbling the concrete that guards my soul. and what sucks is that this sledging is unintentional.
had it in fact been intentional, it likely wouldnt have worked. because i only seem to like the unhealthy. the unintentional. and i think your looks may play a factor into that.
and to the old you. i heard our song today. one i dont hear much anymore. not our starting song. but our ending song. the one you left me with. that reminds me of the kiss i left you with. and i question who left who in that situation. and judging the current situation: i was definitely the leaver. and you, the leavee.
and i know i should reply to your inquiry but i dont know what to say. i have no idea. and despite the easy flow of our conversations, i am at a loss for words. and for that i am sorry.
and you, whom i have been neglecting. yes, you. we will go to europe. and believe me. it will be hard. resisting those jeans that cry to me. "whitney! buy me!" they will plead.
but i will resist. for you.
and we should start in italy. that way we can claim the most of our attention spans. we will have brief expendetures in rome and venice. and the travel to madrid, spain. where we will likely accomplish bucket list item: kiss foriegn boy. and then we'll leave those latin lovers in the dust on our way to paris. and we'll climb to the top (start exersizing now) of the eiffel tower and later examine the loure for hours.
and then we may be off to germany. and then london, a great place to end our adventure. where ambi will get drunk. and may we both go too far with a sexy english boy who's only intention is to take complete advantage of us. but will then fall in undeniable love. until we leave that is. then their only way to contact us until we return in the distant future is through long and intricate love letters. saying not the things you want to hear. but the things he really means.
and i'll leave you on that lovely thought, my dear.
"it" being that very short lived thing. that thing that i said i didnt want to be a relationship. that thing that you said "we'll just see where it goes." and i assumed we would. but you really meant "let's spend every waking moment together and talk twenty times a day."
dont get me wrong. some girls like that. but i'm not that type of girl. sometimes i even question the amount of estrogen inside of me. during those months i go without crying. i begin to think my heart is no longer pumping blood, but hardening cement into my veins. making a strong barrier to guard my vulnerability.
and it's not you (previous you) who i want to break it. in fact, you may have indirectly fed the poison to my vessels.
and everytime i talk to you (other you, undesired but effective). i can feel the sledgehammer slowly crumbling the concrete that guards my soul. and what sucks is that this sledging is unintentional.
had it in fact been intentional, it likely wouldnt have worked. because i only seem to like the unhealthy. the unintentional. and i think your looks may play a factor into that.
and to the old you. i heard our song today. one i dont hear much anymore. not our starting song. but our ending song. the one you left me with. that reminds me of the kiss i left you with. and i question who left who in that situation. and judging the current situation: i was definitely the leaver. and you, the leavee.
and i know i should reply to your inquiry but i dont know what to say. i have no idea. and despite the easy flow of our conversations, i am at a loss for words. and for that i am sorry.
and you, whom i have been neglecting. yes, you. we will go to europe. and believe me. it will be hard. resisting those jeans that cry to me. "whitney! buy me!" they will plead.
but i will resist. for you.
and we should start in italy. that way we can claim the most of our attention spans. we will have brief expendetures in rome and venice. and the travel to madrid, spain. where we will likely accomplish bucket list item: kiss foriegn boy. and then we'll leave those latin lovers in the dust on our way to paris. and we'll climb to the top (start exersizing now) of the eiffel tower and later examine the loure for hours.
and then we may be off to germany. and then london, a great place to end our adventure. where ambi will get drunk. and may we both go too far with a sexy english boy who's only intention is to take complete advantage of us. but will then fall in undeniable love. until we leave that is. then their only way to contact us until we return in the distant future is through long and intricate love letters. saying not the things you want to hear. but the things he really means.
and i'll leave you on that lovely thought, my dear.
Friday, January 11, 2008
because i miss you. and i wish you were here.
continued:
11. backpack through europe with amber. staying in only the crappiest of hotels and random people's residences. note to self: save money.
12. treat adults as peers and not be that shy nervous twat.
13. for once, feel as horny as amber sounds.
14. tell someone how i really feel. say what i need to say.
15. be completely open with my parents about everything.
16. learn to cook.
17. DATE.
18. get in amazing shape.
19. flirt without that wicked inhibition. that causes me not to flirt with anyone. if anyone else is in our presence.
20. have someone need me and not even realize that they mean everything to me. until it happens. and for once have that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" thing be true.
11. backpack through europe with amber. staying in only the crappiest of hotels and random people's residences. note to self: save money.
12. treat adults as peers and not be that shy nervous twat.
13. for once, feel as horny as amber sounds.
14. tell someone how i really feel. say what i need to say.
15. be completely open with my parents about everything.
16. learn to cook.
17. DATE.
18. get in amazing shape.
19. flirt without that wicked inhibition. that causes me not to flirt with anyone. if anyone else is in our presence.
20. have someone need me and not even realize that they mean everything to me. until it happens. and for once have that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" thing be true.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
hamburger phones and stomach aches: music will you be my boyfriend too?
juno is awesome. but i dont need to tell you that. i wish i could be more like her. you know. funny. strong. passionate.
but instead i sit here, cowardly typing nonsense on my ergonomically correct keyboard. lazily completing unimpressive spreadsheets and hastily repeating the fold and stuff motion of filing.
this is my job. my life. not that i spend every waking hour here. hardly. but i seem to spend every waking minute preparing to eventually be here. in tip-top shape. prestine condition. the best-of-the-best.
and why? so that one day there may be hope that i wont focus every waking moment on preparing for the future. so that one day, likely old and frail, i'll have the time and resources to do everything i've ever wished to...but wont have the physical ability to do so.
and so, in my tribute to john, i shall create my own bucket list. the things i'll do before i am no longer able to. and this list will be achievable. because being true to my capricorn roots: i dont set goals i cant reach.
in no particular order, i will now proceed to make yet another list of things i will prepare for:
1. climb to the top of the eiffel tower.
2. go to the louve. (please pardon spelling errors.)
3. live in london for a few months.
4. live in NYC for a few months.
5. Kiss a foriegn boy. (and enjoy it.)
6. see the pyramids. (and take one of those pictures where it looks like i am squishing it between my fingers.
7. design my own home. (or at least a tree house or something.)
8. write something important.
9. do something unheard of.
10. punch someone in the face. (how rad does that sound?)
tis all for now my friend. must return to ass-kicking work. will continue in supplemental expressions of thy inner thoughts.
but instead i sit here, cowardly typing nonsense on my ergonomically correct keyboard. lazily completing unimpressive spreadsheets and hastily repeating the fold and stuff motion of filing.
this is my job. my life. not that i spend every waking hour here. hardly. but i seem to spend every waking minute preparing to eventually be here. in tip-top shape. prestine condition. the best-of-the-best.
and why? so that one day there may be hope that i wont focus every waking moment on preparing for the future. so that one day, likely old and frail, i'll have the time and resources to do everything i've ever wished to...but wont have the physical ability to do so.
and so, in my tribute to john, i shall create my own bucket list. the things i'll do before i am no longer able to. and this list will be achievable. because being true to my capricorn roots: i dont set goals i cant reach.
in no particular order, i will now proceed to make yet another list of things i will prepare for:
1. climb to the top of the eiffel tower.
2. go to the louve. (please pardon spelling errors.)
3. live in london for a few months.
4. live in NYC for a few months.
5. Kiss a foriegn boy. (and enjoy it.)
6. see the pyramids. (and take one of those pictures where it looks like i am squishing it between my fingers.
7. design my own home. (or at least a tree house or something.)
8. write something important.
9. do something unheard of.
10. punch someone in the face. (how rad does that sound?)
tis all for now my friend. must return to ass-kicking work. will continue in supplemental expressions of thy inner thoughts.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
i am sacrificing sleep for this. how dare you with hold pictures for blogs. thats like with holding sex from john mayer.
this is for you. yes, you. which, by the way, is my que to knwo you are talking about me.
and i got a response rather quickly. a nice one. one that restores my faith in the gentlemen species.
but still. i really need to stop these bad habits. really bad habits that i am not permitted to speak of on the world wide web.
although i might think some random person from new zealand is secretly dedicated to my bloig. (a typo that could possible be how they say blog in new zealand.) i doubt anyone besides you are considering i have like 60 views. which is lame considering my last one had over a thousand.
think about it. over a thousand people took interest in what i had to say. okay, well maybe like twenty people who looked at my blog a lot. but still. think of the power of this.
i could say AMBI IS A TOTAL WHORE. and even though it isnt completely true. people would believe me.
and thats scary.
to think my mistakes could very easily find themselves here for the world to see.
and speaking of the mistakes. i dont know if i would call them mistakes. but i feel like i am hurting myself with this lifestyle. somehow. i havent figured it out yet. but i think i am so immune to emotion that one day it will all come flooding back and i will have some huge break down...
mefmloefnioen. thats code for "i just pounded my fingers all over the keyboard out of frusteration because i want those pictures more than a one night stand with john mayer."
and it sounds crazy. but that is only because i would rather have many nights with john mayer.
and i got a response rather quickly. a nice one. one that restores my faith in the gentlemen species.
but still. i really need to stop these bad habits. really bad habits that i am not permitted to speak of on the world wide web.
although i might think some random person from new zealand is secretly dedicated to my bloig. (a typo that could possible be how they say blog in new zealand.) i doubt anyone besides you are considering i have like 60 views. which is lame considering my last one had over a thousand.
think about it. over a thousand people took interest in what i had to say. okay, well maybe like twenty people who looked at my blog a lot. but still. think of the power of this.
i could say AMBI IS A TOTAL WHORE. and even though it isnt completely true. people would believe me.
and thats scary.
to think my mistakes could very easily find themselves here for the world to see.
and speaking of the mistakes. i dont know if i would call them mistakes. but i feel like i am hurting myself with this lifestyle. somehow. i havent figured it out yet. but i think i am so immune to emotion that one day it will all come flooding back and i will have some huge break down...
mefmloefnioen. thats code for "i just pounded my fingers all over the keyboard out of frusteration because i want those pictures more than a one night stand with john mayer."
and it sounds crazy. but that is only because i would rather have many nights with john mayer.
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