"We come in doing cartwheels

We all crawl out by ourselves

And your shape on the dance floor

Will have me thinking such filth and gauge my eyes.

You'd be damned to be one of us girl

Faced with a dodo's conundrum

Ah, I felt like I could just fly

But nothing happened every time I tried."
AUSTRALIA. THE SHINS

My mom's favorite type of news story is horrific, callous, and satisfyingly implausible. Her dinner table conversation starters of frequency have to to do with "Did you hear about that murder? The one where he ripped off her eyelids, gouged out her eyes with a spoon, and crushed her fingers to a fine, dry pulp that he later sprinkled into his meal?"

Every human I've gotten to interact with personally seems to follow a basic set of rules. We have emotion. We have empathy and consideration, somewhere. We have jealousy or fear of some variety, which often translates into hurt, anger, or aggresion. We are needy and self-inefficient, often. We are beautiful. Maybe that is why my mother's stories, as mentioned above, seem so irrelevant to me. I cant picture anyone doing these things- they seem to fall into a new category. A new species, or branch of our recently existing one-- Race of Incredibly Hurt Humans who therefore like to Hurt Others. And I wonder what it takes to transform into such a human of this category, and I wonder if its society's fault, and I wonder what needs to change to change them back. I wonder if their change is an inexorable, fall of fruitless attempts at escape, a fall of defeat, hopelessness, and pain beyond calculation, and whether its possible to reverse. I wonder why we keep dealing with miscreants and criminals the way we do if it so often turns them into tools of murder, this hurtful and hurt race.

And I wonder, but do not believe that they are not human anymore. And I wonder, but do not believe that a human could do this.

" Mother i can tell what you've been thinking

staring at the stars on your ceiling

thinking once there was a power that you were wielding

and now ive hit the mark

staring at the dark

and i cannot help but ignore

the people staring at my scars"
LITTLE SECRETS. PASSION PIT

Spontaneous, unplanned Michael Jackson is an extremely effective way to get your mind off of soccer tryouts. I would have felt a bit strange if he was my pump up music of choice, however the nice change in tempo on this Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin SLASH Michael Jackson CD was worth blasting as loud as the car speakers would go. And music this loud makes me feel like I dont exist, my hearts pulsations in the inconsistent beats and there is no room in my mind for anything else.

"Six foot five with Amazon legs" is the apparently the only impression I've left on my coach after most of a season.

Its generally unnerving to be watched with clip boards and taken notes on. The coaches seem huge (since their opinions mean everything) and I am an ant, scrambling around attempting to gather their attention, without being crushed. What could they possibly be writing down for remembrance?

Girls show intense fear and expressions of pain when running is mentioned

Girls mess up with consistency once an evaluator nears within a fifty foot radius

Girls involve in frequent hushed whisper sessions about other girls

Girls stuff Sour Patch Kid candies into their mouths like there's no tomorrow

"And then we'll get down there

Way down to the very bottom of everything

And then we'll see it, oh, we'll see it! We'll see it! We'll see it!

Oh, my morning's coming back

The whole world's waking up

All the city buses swimming past

I'm happy just because

I found out I am really no one "

AT THE BOTTOM OF EVERYTHING. BRIGHT EYES

Tonight, I sat out on my porch steps and looked into the dark. As my eyes grew accustomed, faint, visibles forms and figures traced themselves by some invisible hand, the shadowed outline of a hammock, the zillion concentric lopsided-circles of leaves. Silence is so LOUD. But then again, so was the cricket, hidden in this night therefore brash and bold with its trills. And the motorcycle that growled past. I was so jumpy at every sudden sound, and even though I live so close to nature, I am unaccustomed to being immersed in it; the sounds, or sometimes lack of sounds, and such. In city bustle I float by, feeling like a vacuum of calm in the tumult and commotion of industry and rush. But in the quiet settled dark, I am the disturbed and the disturber, and I want to practice being again. As I sat there, I thought maybe some deep thought on the meaning of life might brilliantly pop out from the mass of muddled, dark shapes all around me. But nothing did and I laughed aloud, because maybe there is nothing. Maybe there is no greater meaning, because all that we ever think has most likely been thought, and we are all the same since all of us are unique, and I dont matter that much at all.

I'm happy just because, I've found out I am really no one.

The quote on my India Spice tea (that sets my mouth on fire, in the most enjoyable way possible to suffer) tells me to "Recognize that the other person is you". JOY! YES! This is something I am so happy to have actually realized on my own before, yet never put it so articulately. It is the reason I cant find pure bad in anyone. It is the reason that, despite my friend's concerns and scoldings, I always smile at the homeless men on the streets. We are human, we are humane, and somewhere inside us I believe there will always be compassion. And need. We are all needy and fickle and faulted and beautiful.

"But for now we are young

Let us lay in the sun

And count every beautiful thing we can see

Love to be

In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me"

IN AN AEROPLANE OVER THE SEA. NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL

(overheard conversation at work)

Hello my name is Liz, what would you like to eat tonight?

I'd like a dfkdklfjslkdfj (i do not remember. unimportant)

And for you sir?

I just want to eat her, but I cant get her to roll that way

....... I do not know what to tell you sir

Everyday I write down on my calendar the things that I do. To my surprise, there is not one inch of blank space on these last two months. Actions run out of the rigid black lines, and days run into days and all of a sudden I'm faced with an end. I am both excited and reluctant

In the past couple days, I have had three profound moments of complete contentment. Usually when I am away from home for too long, I become disconcerted and flustered. But these just brought prolonged stretches of relief. The first was running around in the inky depth of dark beneath the streaking hail of grey, wet, raindrops. And holding onto eachother, because sometimes I have to much to say and no way of saying it, because I am young and inexperienced and naive with words that are so inadequate.

The second was running around the turf in the blazing heat, with "Blood Bank" by Bon Iver replaying in my head over and over, and we matched up stride to stride and that is how it always is. And that I get this sense of permanence from certain people, the ones who know, and I wanted to say that I love you and thank you so much, but for fear of sounding either even mildly romantic or needy, instead I just said that I could see this happening in college- but I really meant that you are a terrific friend who not only do I like you, but I like who I am when I'm around you. And some things I know are immature since I am still so immature, and I know they will stay locked up and bound within highschool years of mistakes and learnings. But there are some people I want there for my entire life, and when I think about growing up or growing old or growing away, I feel like I will inevitably need to find a new foundation. As will they. And I wonder what happens when they've found one and I havent, or vice versa. This is when I think that it would be nice to be self-sufficient. And also very lonely. Is it better to isolate myself before others do it themselves? Is self-induced pain more tolerable than an external source? I do not think so.

The third was driving around in Bryan's car, and Joey summed it up nicely saying he liked "listening to good music and eating Oreos". Tonight, i just breathed. Some people really make me excited about life.

Everyone I take the time to truly look at recently just seem so attractive. I hate sounding corny but to say it simply, I just think everything is so beautiful

"and every summer is a hot token

to the cold, cold take of lust.

and every autumn singes

with the business of sadness."
BRACKETT, WI. BON IVER


I love work because every time I go, I meet a new person. Last night it was the sole waiter, and we attempted small talk in the twenty-second overlapping dish-scraping at the counter we had, placed sporadically throughout the night. Our first went something to the effect of So youre the new bus girl? Moderately new. Ah so do you like it here? Yes actually, I kind of love it! Love it? Thats something new to hear. Do you like waitress..wait..waiter-ing? Nah, I mean it works as a --- and then we were off and rushing to new tables.

The second went like this. So Mindi tells me you run! This is the point where I became profoundly puzzled because at first I thought that he meant run while I am setting tables. And I worried for a moment whether I really did run around the dining room subconsciously, and mentally scolded myself for being so terribly embarassing. But then I figured he must mean run, as in run track. But I do not run track. And I do not know why Mindi (my boss) would go around distributing this information to the waiters. No. Well I like to run.. *confused look* I play soccer! *he laughs*-- off to some other table.

There was a third meeting, boring. And I always appreciate politeness. I like people.

Today, my friend and her mom were washing their dog in a mini-pool. His matted, sopping fur dripped so solemnly and his head hung in utter defeat, lashed by severe scoldings of "Oh doggie, we had to give you a bath-y. You stink, honey! You smell like a dog!" This triggered in my mind my mother's facial lotions, which she spends on lavishly, in hopes that their labels of "age defying!", "wipe the years right off your face", "remove ten years from your appearance!" hold some thread of truth. If you are a dog, why not smell like one? If you are a worn human being, who has lived and are graced with the tender lining to show it, why hide it? I can understand defying things that are false, cruel, or oppresive. I cannot quite wrap my head around erasing, obscuring, and concealing what one truly is.

"I'm getting lost in your curls

I'm getting pushed back on a whim

Our breaths get wind

Back to the time when we were green

I know we have changed, but I still grin,

cause i can't wait to see you "

BLUISH. ANIMAL COLLECTIVE

Old people are great.

When I see them, especially older couples, a certain, internal trill of "awww" echoes inside me, and my first thought is that they are adorable. But then I was thinking about this- they arent cute. They are.. Weathered? They are years upon layered years of experience tightly balled up in battered, wrinkled folds of skin. Insight and acumen locked soundlessly away behind lined foreheads and skulls, and the weight of all they know often unrecognizble to young people, like myself. The ones in the dementia unit.. crazy? incomprehensible? I couldnt help feeling like although they might be the ones under specialized care and who babble insanely, I was the foolish one for thinking I was untouchable. Life is not invincible. Their crumbled, defeated state is not going to pardon me. I will not be passed over, or forsaken. Old age is so omnipotent.

I also used to think when I grew up I wanted to be very rich. I did not imagine this in a shallow way, I think, I just wanted to travel, send my children to good schools, and have a big house. I dont know what turned on its head and inside out inside of me, but recently I've just wanted to be young. Like twenties, and live in an apartment. I picture it as a movie almost. I eat at the cafe and pay in change, I shop at the thrift store down the block and bike everywhere instead of driving. I spend days upon days in the library so I dont have to buy books. I read the newspaper from the local cafe.. I want to live on the bare bone of the rich meat of life, at least while I'm young and spirited enough to handle this. I picture the power getting shut off once, because we forgot to pay the bills, and its like a campout in our small kitchen, now lit with candles and illuminated curtains from the night moon, and we laugh because I'm in love with my husband and there are more important things and none of it matters a bit

So I took the same personality test as Beck and this is what it came up with! At first I read it and was skeptical, because maybe it was giving such generalized answers that everyone who took it would say "Hey! It recognizes me!", but my mom took it and her's was very personalized too.

The fact that there are so many personality quizzes out there leads me to believe that we are all just looking to be recognized as we are, or as what we would like to be. Maybe this is DUH but it kinda just hit me.

Utmost in your mind is success. You are constantly seeking stimulation and a life full of experience. You are trying to 'grow' and above all you need to develop freely and to shake off the shackles of self-doubt. You are an enthusiastic individual, full of life with the desire to live intensely. You like contact with others and are enthusiastic by nature. You are receptive to anything new, modern or intriguing. Your interests are many and you are likely to expand your fields of activities. You are optimistic about the future and you deserve every success because deep down you are a 'winner'.

What you really seek is to be able to develop a relationship with someone with whom you can truly share: Love, Serenity, Peace and Quiet. But you are a very demanding person and it is your nature that leads to disquiet and discord: you are like the tide, flotsam and jetsam... One minute you experience 'highs' and a few moments later 'lows'. This obviously will introduce discord into any relationship and with this demanding attitude - the ideal state you desire is unable to develop. Despite the urge to gratify your natural desires, you impose a considerable self-restraint on your instincts in the belief that this demonstrates your superiority and raises you above the common herd. You are extremely critical of everything that is presently going on around you and you find it difficult to listen to or to take advice from anyone. You enjoy the original, the ingenious and the subtle.

You really like doing what you do and, more than that, you like yourself. Your attitude to work and to life is that 'If its not fun - then don't do it'. You want to be liked and respected, not for who you are but for what you are - and it seems to be working.

"Well I know my death will not come,

'Til I breathe all the air out my lungs

'Til my final tune is sung, yeah but all is good.

And my love is my whole being

And I've shared what I could"

GIVE A LITTLE LOVE. NOAH AND THE WHALE

I'd like to know how I'd view the life around me without my assumptions. But I dont think thats possible, since our assumptions are sometimes things we didnt even know we had. Like if I've had terrible eyesight my whole life, and only realized it once I put on glasses. Or if my glasses have always been purple shaded, and I had no idea until I put on your rose-tinted ones. I think the simplest way of changing glasses is by relating, reading or hearing about other peoples views (which incorporate their assumptions as well) about life. (thank you blogosphere! you've help separate me from my unconscious assumptions!)

Another way, I think, is by outgrowing our old assumptions, but so far I've found this very unsettling. I assume that these people I've grown up my entire life with, been seamlessly and easily and boundlessly close to, will always feel this way to me. But the gears have shifted, slightly. Our fit is a bit strained. Maybe I'm the only one who notices this, because maybe I'm the one whos straining things. Sometimes I do not agree with them, but thats something our relationship cannot quite wrap itself around yet. I laugh and agree only for the sake of laughing and agreeing, because I miss when this fundamental sign of "getting along" came so naturally.

We both like to dance, so we danced. We had in our separate MP3's and spun in the road by the train tracks, laughing and mouthing words to the blasting music in our heads. I danced with her, though it was to different beats. We were both singing, but it was different words. I spun in circles until I was dizzy dizzy dizzy and kept my music to myself for the first time, because I knew she would think it was weird weird weird.

Or that was my assumption.

"If life's not beautiful without the pain

Well I'd just rather never ever even see beauty again

As life gets longer, awful feels softer

And it feels pretty soft to me"

THE VIEW. MODEST MOUSE

Among other things, today I went to the marketplace with my mom and got a creamsicle smoothie. While sitting on the benches outside, Mom missed her mouth when she was drinking it, and I told her it looked rather unappetizing when she did things like that. She made a face at me, and I made one back. She slurped disguistingly on the smoothie, and I drooled it out of the corner of my mouth. This contest went on for a while, until Mom became embarassed of my antics. Often when I am out with just my mom and no other friends, I become rigid and uncomfortable. Today I decided appearance, weirdness, none of it matters. None of it matters at all

I think I've found what scares me most in life. A lot of it has to do with those lyrics above. A lot of it also has to do with this feeling of time being, in actuality, a stream, and until now I thought it was fun and easy and free to float along the surface, the roiling, rushing surface but its horrifying and exhilerating finding that if I want to slow down I'm grasping at water, and in its liquid-deception it slips through my fingers and runs over and through my flailing hands that grasp at nothing. I've thought a lot about time and I realized that I'm scared of growing up in a different way than any pre-pubescent version of myself might have whiningly claimed years earlier. What I now mean, is subconsciously falling into a routine, neither painful nor positive. Safe. One that evokes no passion, no infuriation, no awe. Where awful feels so soft it can be mistaken for goodness, and not solely because its not so awful, but because good has become not so good anymore. I do not want to tranform into my habits while I'm not paying attention. Maybe that is why I've been so closely alert and analyzing my present life. I hate those lyrics because I would rather feel pain than nothing. I have this fear of indifference.

I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy

-LEO TOLSTOY-