| (no subject) |
[Dec. 6th, 2006|02:26 am] |
I have a friend here who is also from Long Island and is named Jessica Mary and speaks Italian. Weirdest thing ever? Maybe. Anyway, she's a fiction writer here like me, but she's also an amazing poet and doesn't actually believe me when I tell her that her poems are fucking amazing. Anyway, she showed me one of her end of the semester portfolio poems, called culture clash , and it blew me away entirely, so I'm going to post it, so that when she's famous I can be like 'look, I knew her way back when.'
Some background that might make it more relevant: (though I doubt it's necessary to enjoy the poem), she grew up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan in the area known as Alphabet City. Her mother was an activist who tried to get homeless kids enrolled in school. Anyway, here goes:
( Culture Clash ) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 4th, 2006|11:27 pm] |
I always open this webpage and mean to write an entry but I never quite get it done. So this time I'm just going to not care if what I have to say sounds good or means anything or is interesting but just write it.
I am so busy it's insane, but I've kept my intoxications low, just an unhealthy amount of cigarettes that will stop as soon as I lose tolerance for the cold and the occasional belligerently drunk night (haha) and a certain boy who brings me back to his room and tells me stories about former communist countries and is probably one of the only people who can keep up with me in this world and then kisses me so hard that I can still feel him on my lips hours later, alone in my room. And it's okay, because I'm almost twenty years old, which is the perfect age for being completely irresponsible.
I ran into an old boy a few days ago while walking back home, he had his new girlfriend with him and I was pleased to say that I was genuinely glad to see him and genuinely glad that they found each other.
And I think I'm having heartburn for the first time in my life and oh god it hurts.
I am having a strong compulsion not to post this, but I am trying the wristband trick, so if you're reading this (and care) it obviously worked. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 14th, 2006|03:20 pm] |
I'm back.
I know I didn't really update this before I left (or, you know...MONTHS before) but that is because I'm just a bad person.
But I'm back. Well, I've been back all of July, but I was sick (of course) so what are you going to do? I was lucky though because I got sick because I was careless but it was delayed effect nastiness.
Y'ALL. WHAT IS UP. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 19th, 2006|11:17 pm] |
|
I'm having fever dreams of his hair brushing my shoulders. Ben always had relatively short hair, and I never really understood why girls always liked guys with hair hanging in their faces...but I sure do understand it now. Anyway, I've been in my room all day working and being feverish and I want him to come over and kiss my neck and let his hair brush against my shoulder but I'm sick and I don't want to get him sick. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 29th, 2006|12:44 pm] |
I get very easily lost in the shuffle. People find it easy to overlook me and not hear what I say and they don't even mean to do it and they don't even know why.
By the way, I'm starving but it's raining out. So no food for me, at least not for a good long while. |
|
|
| i am unable to resist livejournal quizzes |
[Jan. 18th, 2006|04:54 pm] |
Answer the Qs and add one of your own.
1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
Wow, my hair is a mess.
2. How much cash do you have on you?
10 bucks. I rule.
3. What's a word that rhymes with "DOOR"?
Four.
4. Favorite planet?
I guess I'll have to go with Earth.
5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
Jespah.
6. What is your favorite ring on your phone?
A clip from the song 'La Tortura' by Shakira.
7. What shirt are you wearing?
My OLE (Latin Students Association) t-shirt.
8. Do you label yourself?
Overly adventurous.
9. Name the brand of your shoes you're currently wearing:
None, but the ones I've been wearing lately have been Steve Madden.
10. Bright or Dark Room?
I rarely turn the lights on, so dark.
11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
Good stuff. :)
13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Lying on the floor waiting for the room to stop spinning. :/
14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
"My frog brings all the girlies to the yard without the obscenities--whats up with you?"
15. Where is your nearest 7-11?
Tucked in a corner of Roslyn
16. What's a word that you say a lot?
word
17.Who told you they loved you last?
My mommy.
18. Last furry thing you touched?
My puppy.
19. How Many Drugs Have You Done In The Past three Days?
Um. Who knows?
20. How many roles of film do you need to get developed?
None.
21. Favorite age you have been so far?
Haha, I don't know.
22. Your worst enemy?
Self-destruction.
23. What is your current desktop picture?
A picture of me and Jespah and Ammie being all attitude-y and posing with cigarettes and red lipstick that Callie took for a photo portfolio.
24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
come va, pupalini? (What's up, little puppy. And yes, I said it to my dog. I'm home alone.)
25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
This is hard. Because if I had a million bucks I could travel a lot but if I could fly it would be cheaper to travel so I dont know.
26.Do you like someone?
Teehee. Yes.
27. The last song you listened to?
"How Soon Is Now?" by the Smiths.
28. What does your bag look like?
Its big and a blue-gray and nice.
29. Did you notice number twelve?
Unfortunately, no. :(
And the question I added:
30. Did you do this whole survey because you wanted to answer one particular question? Which one?
I did this survey because I have an unhealthy compulsion towards surveys. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 1st, 2006|03:22 pm] |
the saga of south american sephardic jews.
I dare you to say that ten times fast. You can't. Or at least, I can't.
Anyway, I never knew this, but my father can speak, in addition to English, Spanish, and Italian, Ladino. His family speaks Ladino! I did not know that. Now I want to learn it.
Anyway. Happy New Years. Apparently it snowed and iced in New York and I am going home on Tuesday and am being quite grumbly about leaving the warm Argentina sun for winter. I am also dreading the plane ride and decided that we need high speed bullet trains. |
|
|
| good air, bitches |
[Dec. 27th, 2005|01:20 pm] |
Happy Chanukah, everyone!
I'm in Argentina with my grandparents for the holiday. The flight sucked. I have my laptop and my grandparents have wireless internet. I am communicating all right with my half-fluent Spanish. I'll be back in the States once Chanukah is done but I'm going to be online constantly anyway, so whatever.
I saw my sisters for Christmas, it was nice.
It's also HOT here. I'm loving it. |
|
|
| semicharmed life |
[Dec. 20th, 2005|03:54 am] |
Yes, I can't sleep. One of those nights, I guess. I feel slanted, like half of me is elevated higher than the other, but I'm sitting straight. Kind of weird. Lots of pressures in my head.
Writer's block. Someone give me a prompt.
trying to bore myself to sleep. please ignore.
( you know I'm bored when I start doing these. )
Compulsion attack. PLEASE don't click on it. It's very pathetic and long and boring and sad. Sometimes I start things and can't stop doing them. Demonstration of OCD, especially the compulsion part--the way you just have to do something till it exhausts you.
I am not sleepy in the slightest. I need to accept that there is no way that I am sleeping tonight and do something else. Unfortunately, I left all my movies at school and I can't download on this piece of shit.
Today was a good day. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 20th, 2005|02:08 am] |
Reading through my old journal I come across this line:
"My life is like sex with a condom. It's fun, but there's a layer separating it from me. It might be a mint-flavored glow-in-the-dark funky cool condom, but still."
I was definitely an odd kiddo. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 14th, 2005|05:06 pm] |
Rar. One paper and one final to go. Physics, Calc, Spanish = done.
Paper for Film.
Final for IP.
All I want to do is stand on my bed and dance with M and S. Or go to the Charles with C. and sit around and watch movies all night. Or even kick ice around with V. Instead, I'm reading about constructivism till I die.
There's still a bruise on my forehead from where C threw the block of ice at me. I can artfully cover it up with my hair but when I forget and push my hair back I look like I got beaten.
The best is that C. doesn't remember doing it, but I do. The next morning he asked me why I had a bruise on my forehead. I told him it was because of his violent tendencies and he thought he punched me in the forehead. He felt really awful for awhile until I told him he had done it by accident.
S scared the hell out of me last night though. I understand being stressed out but when you start throwing rocks at windows in fits of rage...goes a little too far. I think he's a lot of fun but I think I may end up being a little wary.
oh people you crack me up. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 5th, 2005|06:03 pm] |
You know when you fall asleep but you fall asleep so fast that you don't remember falling asleep? So it's just like one minute you're sitting there, the next minute you're opening your eyes and it's hours later?
That was what happened to me this afternoon, followed by temporal dislocation. I thought it was Saturday. Go me. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 5th, 2005|05:35 am] |
I pulled an all-nighter to catch up on my work, except I finished all the things that I needed to get done pressingly between 4 o'clock when I started working and 4 a.m. this morning because one of my Spanish assignments is due next Friday, so I didn't finish it. It's mostly done, which is nice, though. I just have a little bit left but I have four hours until class, and it's only six questions on three pages of reading...so I'm taking a break. I don't HAVE to take a break, because I could easily start doing work on my LAS paper, but no. I need a break, desperately, for my mental health.
I don't want to go to sleep because then I won't wake up. I can't sleep now, anyway--too many coffees and teas and sodas and cigarette breaks. (My therapist has advised me not to quit my (incredibly light, by the way) smoking until after finals. A doctor told me to keep smoking. Unbelievable.) I only have two classes tomorrow, so I'll sleep then.
I miss Davy. I miss Jespah. I miss Ammie. I miss Joey and Kel and Callie and (yes, Ben, I miss you too.)
Shit. I just realized I was playing my music out loud instead of through my headphones. Fortunately Kate didn't wake up, or at least I didn't think so.
Last night I found Kate wandering around campus, drunk, lost in front of her own dorm. Very sad.
(Kate is my roommate.) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 3rd, 2005|11:53 pm] |
Drugs are bad.
Anyway. I've started seeing a therapist down here, who is convinced that I am self-medicating. I don't know what's wrong with me--well, I have OCD. She wants me to start anti-depressants, to help 'stop my self-destructive behavior.'. Maybe it's a good idea. College is bad because I can't say no. In other news, I want a cigarette and I'm resisting it but sometimes it's hard.
I hate my writing teacher. But I like her at the same time.
It's time to begin my life again. Stop hiding from everyone. I'm kind of a wreck. I need to start talking to people when I'm actually not high.
I had meningitis. I've since recovered, but I'm still in pain and haven't gone out in two weeks. I am going to go clean again. Go outside in a sweatshirt and jeans and no makeup or jewelry.
College is a trip, and not really in a good way. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 7th, 2005|10:34 pm] |
Hey, I have a livejournal!
Hmm.
It's summer.
Summer is bonfires on the beach. Summer is standing by the bay and watching the random fireworks against the horizon. Summer is rolling in the sprinklers by the supermarket. Summer is doing shots of chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and peppermint schnapps and running in the shipyard and glasses of white wine with people you love.
I'm going to Europe soon. A seven hour layover in Portugal, and then Geneva, then a train to Germany, and then a plane to Italy, and then a ferry to Greece, and a ferry to Turkey, and then a plane to St. Petersburg, and then Belgium, and then home. Six weeks, then home, then college.
Eight hours to Portugal, seven hours in Portugal, and then another hour or so before we get to Geneva, just me and Ben. And then a wedding. I get to meet Ben's grandparents in St. Petersburg, and see my beloved Clara and Carmela in Italy, and meet Callie and Ammie's families. That first week in Geneva is in a hotel. My cousin is getting married. Ben and I have a room in a ritzy Geneva hotel, courtesy of my cousin. Ben is really excited for the week in Germany, as he is a double major in German and Rhetoric.
I've been sleeping at Ben's a lot. Not tonight, but sometimes, I do. Ben's room smells like his deodorant. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 5th, 2005|02:11 am] |
Oh, Ben.
Oh, Ben, is all I can say. It's the weirdest thing. Everyone always says he's so wrong for me. He's too rough, too hurting, too violent. He has too much anger in him, and he can't handle the panicky sort of person I really am.
He met me in D.C. for a little bit (since he's transferring to G.W.). And I don't know what I feel for him, really. Maybe it's just a being a teenager/hormonal thing, but when I first see him again, and he hugs me, something deep in the pit of my stomach clicks into place. Maybe it's just that I feel comfortable with him.
Stephan was the name of my first boyfriend. I was fourteen, he was sixteen, and it was one of those clumsy first-time relationships that ended because I got nervous and he got nervous and it was just better that way. Ben, I met during what Jespah and Callie refer to, titteringly, as my 'wild phase', and I realize now how ridiculously weird it was for someone my age to be tripping on what I was tripping on, but he took care of me, and didn't pressure me, but was nothing but encouraging when I decided to be straight edge.
Dear Ben, I think I may love you. It's 2 30 in the morning, and it's quite possible I'm delirious, and sad thinking about this.
Dear Davy, I will miss you terribly next year, and no one can ever replace you.
In other news, I am the straightest person to ever cross the Earth. Which is odd, because Ammie has always tried to get me interested in lesbian subcultural activities, and I've always tried to muster enthusiasm. But I'm just boring little straight Jaejae. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 31st, 2005|04:29 am] |
I'm like the worst livejournaller in the world.
I've been hanging out with KYAN. That's right, crazy Kyan, the blond Korean. She's very interesting. Both her parents are half-Swedish (and Swedish born), and half-Korean--her Korean grandparents look stereotypically Korean, her Swedish grandparents are shockingly blond, and there's one on each side. Somehow, she inherited the recessive hair-color gene from both of them and is naturally blond and pale. She doesn't look very Korean at all. But she speaks both Korean and Swedish, which is odd, but cool. Kyan's at University of Pennsylvania, so I don't see her much.
more to come.
here's the more: I've also been sick as hell, everyone got strep here and I was no exception of course. Awful awful awful stuff. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 27th, 2005|05:57 pm] |
I love this snippet of this poem by Jeffery McDaniels:
I don't know how long
regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don't know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light
of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that's just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing
into each other's ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—didn't make the silence
any easier to navigate
( rest of the poem here ) |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 26th, 2005|01:15 am] |
|
I just finished A Handmaid's Tale, , and I must say, a book has never terrified me so much. I don't know why, but I'm so scared right now, I don't know what to do. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 21st, 2005|08:17 pm] |
A Story, by Me.
Once upon a time, I had a friend named Joey. Joey was a cool guy but he liked marijuana and alcohol a little too much. When I stopped partaking in all that, he stopped talking to me, because we had nothing to talk about. Now he is apparently not doing so well. I miss Joey. But Joey is not the same as he used to be, so even when I IM Joey, he does not seem like the same Joey.
Midterms next week. I have to write my Society midterm paper this week. Wah. There are only a few people in my Society class. They are: Sir Davar Firouz the Invincible (commonly referred to in this journal as Davy), Sophie, Eric, Erika, Dan, and me. They are writing their society papers too. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
darklingbird's journal