all will turn to grey, and melt away.
i have been feeling a bit sentimental lately. i think i have already told you this; and for once i think my blog background matches its title.
so i have got that going on. last day of high school was yesterday, and oddly enough i dont think it will feel like its over until tomorrow.
raise your glass to a new way of life. i know i am.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
truth becomes her.
i told you the truth even though i knew the sadness that could be dealt from our hands. our hands that felt the softness, the earth and the element of feeling. be that as it was my first dream, the light that glinted off of the glass you had about your eyes. if you hold them up to the world can you see its people clearer?what does it all mean, my darling, when we are gone? this illusion that i based my world around was not real until i found you in the grey. i cannot help wondering if the curiosity i view you with is constituted as...what? i dare not say what i believe you to be, for what i cannot know you must not refuse. be the lamp unto my feet, and perhaps i shall hold the candle to your pages. do not flicker, for the unwavering flame is resolute in its purpose. the warmth of gentle sun colors your cheek and warms too my heart. gentle breaths and the falling eyes so tender in their recognition, realize the beauty in our name. before the dusk of your dreaming and the before these few flowers wither all to dust there is something you must know. the violet umber in the cold moments before we were no more than just...
i told you the truth, and you smiled with one so honest i could barely look at your eyes, unclouded and quivering. so fragile, one word that i knew you would never force upon me. it is something quite peculiar to me to try and comprehend the beauty that i find with you. it is something quite fortunate that you appreciate the way my eyes welled when you told me. am i the only one? i was a lonely one.
i told you the truth, and you smiled with one so honest i could barely look at your eyes, unclouded and quivering. so fragile, one word that i knew you would never force upon me. it is something quite peculiar to me to try and comprehend the beauty that i find with you. it is something quite fortunate that you appreciate the way my eyes welled when you told me. am i the only one? i was a lonely one.
Monday, June 7, 2010
will you cry for me?
"or will you cry with me?"
i decided i would just post pictures of men i find attractive. why not? in no particular order, naturlisch.
Davey Havok, duh.
Johnny Depp...
Stuart Townsend...
Jude Law...
Jared Leto...
Ian Somerhalder....
Dan Smith...
Paul Wesley...
Brandon Lee...
And James McAvoy.thats all i have for now...but there is probably more.
"to the outside, the dead leaves, they all blow"
listening to Funeral by Band of Horses still makes me just as emotional as it did when i heard it for the first time.
just putting that out there, being as i was listening to it as i was writing this.
anyway, so i was in the mood for a little sentiment today and so i pulled out my old poetry books. i have really been in a poetic feel lately. it has been all i am reading lately. and when i was reading Byron, which reminded me of reading Shelley...who was best friends with John Keats. so to satiate my need...and yours, i posted my favorite of his poems. if it brings a tear to your eyes, then it has served its purpose.
"Ode to a Nightingale"
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness, -
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?
-John Keats.
just putting that out there, being as i was listening to it as i was writing this.
anyway, so i was in the mood for a little sentiment today and so i pulled out my old poetry books. i have really been in a poetic feel lately. it has been all i am reading lately. and when i was reading Byron, which reminded me of reading Shelley...who was best friends with John Keats. so to satiate my need...and yours, i posted my favorite of his poems. if it brings a tear to your eyes, then it has served its purpose.
"Ode to a Nightingale"
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness, -
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?
-John Keats.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
you'll remember me when the west wind moves.
okay, so i have no idea why Sting came to mind...but oh well. i guess this blog will begin "among the fields of Barley..."even though wheat has nothing to do with what i am supposed to be doing as of right now.
i have a lot of physics to do, and i just got all of the problems down so this is just my way of procrastinating. anyway. i keep getting distracted.
i am so ready to graduate. when i first typed that in, it came out "i am so rad" but i guess that is accurate, too. i had a large McDonald's fry for dinner and a vegan boca burger without lettuce and i feel like such a failure. i don't feel like anything i ate today was green, although the eyeshadow i wore today was 4 gradient shades of green. i am rambling because the longer this is, the longer it takes until i have to crack the physics book. i am no engineer. and i know it.
so, i find it a huge encumbrance that i will have to go the whole day for exams. i hope thy don't mind when they see the pillow i bring along so that i can pass out.
Disney Disney Disney. i am so excited for Disney. and then, when i come back from Disney, i will be getting tattoos. and i will never be ashamed to bare my arms again. hahaha!
i hope i get an A in psychology. stupid 91!!!!!
anyway, this is becoming really obnoxious. i hate it when i am typing something and my sister decides to read every word as it appears on the screen, even though she knows i hate it when people watch me type. she annoys me most of the time.
Blake hasn't called me yet, and i am getting worried that we are going to fail this whole project thing. and i cannot let that happen!!!!!!!!!!
okay, i guess i can be done with this now, but know that i am going reluctantly!
until next time,
"adieu, adieu, to you and you and you. "
i have a lot of physics to do, and i just got all of the problems down so this is just my way of procrastinating. anyway. i keep getting distracted.
i am so ready to graduate. when i first typed that in, it came out "i am so rad" but i guess that is accurate, too. i had a large McDonald's fry for dinner and a vegan boca burger without lettuce and i feel like such a failure. i don't feel like anything i ate today was green, although the eyeshadow i wore today was 4 gradient shades of green. i am rambling because the longer this is, the longer it takes until i have to crack the physics book. i am no engineer. and i know it.
so, i find it a huge encumbrance that i will have to go the whole day for exams. i hope thy don't mind when they see the pillow i bring along so that i can pass out.
Disney Disney Disney. i am so excited for Disney. and then, when i come back from Disney, i will be getting tattoos. and i will never be ashamed to bare my arms again. hahaha!
i hope i get an A in psychology. stupid 91!!!!!
anyway, this is becoming really obnoxious. i hate it when i am typing something and my sister decides to read every word as it appears on the screen, even though she knows i hate it when people watch me type. she annoys me most of the time.
Blake hasn't called me yet, and i am getting worried that we are going to fail this whole project thing. and i cannot let that happen!!!!!!!!!!
okay, i guess i can be done with this now, but know that i am going reluctantly!
until next time,
"adieu, adieu, to you and you and you. "
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
feeling pangs of...
GUILT.
just opened an email from mr. kershasky, about how he is in a lot of pain...
and i still havent told him that i am not submitting my artwork. its not something i want to tell him on facebook.
so, i just dont know what would be best. but i hope it all works out without him being disappointed in me later.
alas, poor Meg. she died from lack of conviction.
just opened an email from mr. kershasky, about how he is in a lot of pain...
and i still havent told him that i am not submitting my artwork. its not something i want to tell him on facebook.
so, i just dont know what would be best. but i hope it all works out without him being disappointed in me later.
alas, poor Meg. she died from lack of conviction.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
knock knock
i just made my aunt Missy a facebook, after asking her so many times to make one. i took over her laptop, and Banjo the Hound keeps licking my toes. i ran out of knock knock jokes for the insatiable three year old, the baby just woke up.
hahah, the life i love. this had to be quick because now he insists i can fly, and i have to teach him how.
i love how i am tall in his eyes.
hahah, the life i love. this had to be quick because now he insists i can fly, and i have to teach him how.
i love how i am tall in his eyes.
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