September 25th, 2000

grandma ryan

(no subject)

columns about the end of the world look at me dangerously. they think i have something to do with their existence, and they hate me for it.
grandma ryan

Looking glass

i am happy, but i still can't tell how happy i should be. soon...soon. talking doesn't seem to be jinxing anything for those of you who know my superstitions. the past may be the past more than i ever hoped it would be, and i removed a ring i wasn't sure I ever would. I need to find some sort of replacement, because even though it is relieving to finally take it off, my left hand feels bare. think i'll cover it in optimism. i think this is smart unlike some things i've been through in the past...and well, some may laugh, but...well. that's their problem. and maybe they'll get the last laugh, but i am keeping eyes to darkened for the moment...i can only look twice as far as the distance from me to me and sometimes it won't me looking back, at least that's the idea. reminds and reminded of by a poem i wrote on tuesday for my adv. poetry writing class...heh i find class titles silly when it comes to skill level. ah, i'll post it. i haven't been sharing much of my writing lately except with my class, and i'm tired of their milky eyes. i need to finish Feet Granted too...I have been playing catchup with schoolwork and keeping myself busy with avoiding schoolwork at all costs to work on it, even though it isn't schoolwork, it requires attentionspan, and that has gone to shit since i've gotten here for the most part. for example...i was posting that poem and here I am a little ways along further and I already forgot. typical of me. well here. i'm tired of writing other stuff down, maybe after i post the poem i'll continue.

Looking glass

She could see right through me.
Never knowing what I knew however
the view she had was of brambles
woven tighter than nooses on man.

Then I spoke to myself about the future of listening
in on the past, I was everywhere, editor extraordinaire
wrapping blankets of black runes around my pale tongue,
configuring junctions so tire marks meant I had been there.

But it wasn't important if I was the single
most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

only had to believe it to make it truth

only needed need to push belief further

Only me.

So little really phases me anymore...I used to think some things were difficult or wrong, and now I just worry that I'm not fulfilling my own interests enough. I've not become selfish, that isn't nearly what I'm getting at...I just have the motivation to do what I feel is interesting and important and not really anything besides. I take care of my friends first of all, then me, then seems somewhat pointless these days...I'm not sure I should continue next semester in some ways since we don't have the money to pay for it really, and also that I'm not sure what I'm Really getting from it all...but i know. I'm just letting out the frustrations I have because I don't feel competent sometimes, and I have been having an exceptionally hard time focussing for certain reasons which have to do with the priorities I previously noted, and also that I just think my attention span has gotten worse. I may consider my unthnkable and go get assessed for treatment. I hate pills, but if this really is some form of attention problem I've been able to compensate well enough for before and now I can't ignore, I may want to have some sort of help while I need it, while I'm expected to perform tasks such as schoolwork which especially here are going to become increasingly more attention and focus intensive. I wonder on the other hand, why I can focus on the criticism people in my poetry class give my poem for a more extended period, or go and paint for a long time without really getting bored. It might just be that I don't notice the distraction in those cases because I can let my distractions be part of the processes those sorts of tasks require, and i can use it to my advantage. Quick thoughts seem to have quick feet these days, and they all go running everywhere...multiple pairs of quick feet each. That's way too many toes. This is easily the most descriptive personal journal entry I've made in a while, even though it is masked in painted language in some areas. This feels good, although I don't really expect anyone to read this whole thing, I know I don't have the time lately to read everyone's entries as thoroughly as I'd like to. [sigh] well, I, speaking of attention problems, should either get back to work or go to face is starting to feel wierd and I think that is a sign that either my body is playing games with me or I'm just really tired or both. I'm tense and even my cheek knows it. Crazy.
grandma ryan

(no subject)

i was able to retain a pretty badass livejournal username. i was surprised it was still untaken, but then again, i've gotten some others i was surprised at too.