And Remember...

A rolling stone gathers no moss.

Baseball and Hot Dogs (and Good Friends)

Will cure what ails you.

Pray For Grace

Why must I feel like this today
I'm a soldier but afraid sometimes
To face the things that may
Block the sun from shinin' rays
And fill my life with shades of grey
But still I long to find a way
So today I pray for grace

I take a moment to myself
So I can myself
To feel myself
And be real myself
Life's addictions and afflictions
Cause abrasions from their friction
Sometimes, it's easier to live in fiction
I can run, but I can't hide
From the pains that
Reside deep down inside
There is no pill
That can be swallowed
There is no guru
That can be followed
There's no escapin'
From my own history
Those that I hurt,
And those that hurt me
I was dead for a million years
'Fore I was born and
I'll be dead for a million more
After I'm gone
So I live, to give somethin'
That can live on
Like the way you hum a song when the music's gone
Like the warmth on the sand
When the sun goes down
And I'm sittin' with myself
Nobody else is around but,

Why must I feel like this today
I'm a soldier but afraid sometimes
To face the things that may
Block the sun from shinin' rays
And fill my life with shades of grey
But still I long to find a way
So today I pray for grace

Been a long, long time
Since I been away
Been a long, long time
Since I felt this way
Been a long, long time
I found the words to say
How much I'm grateful
For my life today
'Cause under every cup
You might find a nut
Behind every corner
You might get jacked up
At the end of every rainbow,
You might find gold
The last bite of your sandwich,
Hope you don't find mould
'Cause none of us
Can live the perfect life
The kind that we see on nick at night
And sometimes, we all
Just lose sight
Of the pain that will guide us
From dark into the light
We fall down yes, but we get up,
And sometimes we just need
A little bit of love
To help make it
Through another day
Into the night, into the light,
Into a Saturday
So in the morning when I'm waitin'
For the sun to raise
And my head's a little foggy
Like I'm in a haze
I remind myself that
Everything is gonna be okay
I take a breath, slow down and say....

Why must I feel like this today
I'm a soldier but afraid sometimes
To face the things that may
Block the sun from shinin' rays
And fill my life with shades of grey
But still I long to find a way
So today I pray for grace

(Michael Franti & Spearhead)

Control

Of myself and of no one else. This is the next lesson that I have to learn.

Peace, Child

Deep Deep Deep

Here. Here I am. Am on the edge. Of the deep deep blue, And the deep deep black. Of going forward and going back. But wait, not yet! How did I get here? How does one find oneself on the edge? After taking such great care To even avoid the choice Between the deep deep deep deep And the deep deep deep deeper. Oh yes. That's right. The flashes. The waves. They pull me in then, disgusted, Push me back. Hahaha! So I went. Hahaha! Infinite naivete. Once, I made the choice. The waves pulled, deep deep deep. Into the shallow blue. But, after only having gone so far, Exhausted, collapsed. Beware, what dangers lurk beneath. Hiding, in the deep deep sea. Ghost rocks, jagged, move to Catch your fall. Cushion the blow. Oh, but how to choose The greater degree of treachery? The blue? Whose waves' direction You could not tell? Or the rocks? Lying beneath, Waiting to showcase your pain and agony To all those bored by passers who wanted to see. Yes, yes, now it's easy to see. How one could find oneself Here. Here I am. Am on the edge. But, having been driven back (It turns out the waves were pushing And the winds were blowing Onshore.) The edge is no longer a choice, The edge is not the edge, But only the edge Of a path. Leading me out of the deep deep blue
And into the way.

There, Without

There is a way to get close
Without falling in.
There is a way to go through the woods
Without getting lost.
There is a way to hold a blade
Without turning it on yourself.
There is a way to start a fire
Without getting burned.

When I get there,
I will be without all of this.

The Apologist

They call me the apologist
And now that I'm at peak
You know at first it really hurt
We joke about these things
I've skirted all my diferences
But now I'm facing up
I wanted to apologize for
Everything I was. So

I'm sorry, so sorry
So sorry
So sorry
So sorry
So sorry
So sorry

Did you understand me right?
The people here are good
They tell me what I should have done
And offer what I could
I'm good, all is good
All's well, no complaints
When I fell regret,
I get down on my knees and pray

I'm sorry (so sorry), so sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry

I live a simple life
Unfettered by complex sweets (so sorry)
You think this isn't me? (so sorry)
Don't be weak (so sorry)
There I go (so sorry)
I'm so sorry

Thank you for being there for me
Thank you for listening, goodbye
I can forfeit selfishness
I hope for you that you apply
This happiness
This peacefulness
This peacefulness

I'm sorry (so sorry), so sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)
So sorry (so sorry)

I live (so sorry) a simple life (so sorry)
Unfettered (so sorry) by complex sweets (so sorry)
You think this isn't me? (so sorry)
That's so sweet (so sorry, so sorry)
I'm so sorry

Thank you for being there for me
Thank you for listening, goodbye
(rem)

Masquerade!

Haha

Not true.

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade,
Masquerade!
Hide your face
So the world
Will never find you.

Masquerade!
Every face a different shade,
Masquerade!
Look around--
There's another
Mask behind you.

The Existence of Something

I don't think I'll ever know Florence, but it makes me happy just knowing that it exists and that it is beautiful and that I can imagine what it would be like if I were to go there. I can imagine the type of food that I would eat, what I would see, how it would smell, what kind of people I would meet, and what kind of person I would be there. It may not be true, but it makes the mind happy to entertain the idea. In fact, maybe imagining it is better than actually knowing it. That way everything goes exactly as planned; no one gets hurt, lost or bored there. And no one can take away that imagination, that pretend fantasy that gets me through the day. Today was a day filled with that sort of thing, and I must say it was one of the best days I've had in a long time.

I will have you know that I have a fine sense of propriety. However, I will also have you know that sometimes I find it to be completely useless.

"My name is Eliza Salinger, like the author."

She introduced herself in such a way as to make me wonder whether or not she took herself this seriously all the time. Because I thought she must have been at least half-joking, I made a half-smile and cocked my head to one side. However, she must have taken this as a sign of ignorance, because she continued, "S-A-L-I-N-G-E-R. You know...Catcher in the Rye, Nine Stories...?"

"Right," was the most articulate thing I could come up with to say to Ms. Salinger. Then I thought, "Did you really just spell that out?" She went on to speak very slowly and importantly about James Joyce, as if she were sharing some private conversation that she had with him at a recent cocktail party in her apartment.

You know, Eliza, for some reason I can actually imagine you in one of Salinger's stories. You would be one of the girls that made Holden or Franny so disappointed and frustrated all of the time. Yes, you would make an excellent literary character. In fact, I'm trying to find a way to write a whole short story about you.

That settles one thing though. From now on I am going to introduce myself as "Catherine, like The Great."

Crazy

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place.
Even your emotions had an echo
In so much space

And when you're out there
Without care,
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Probably

And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that's my only advice
Come on now, who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are,
Ha ha ha bless your soul
You really think you're in control

Well, I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember is thinking, I want to be like them
Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably

(gnarls barkley)

Ah ha!

Now I remember the reason why I write: procrastination. I had forgotten that that's how this whole thing got started all those many months ago. Well now I'm back into classes again (actual classes this time, not fake ones) and all I want to do is capture all these crazy thoughts floating around in my head. Just like I made my bug collection in the fourth grade by netting butterflies in the backyard and then pinning them and displaying them on the foam in my moth-ball scented wardrobe, I want to stay up all night and word-hunt and then pin them down with 12 point font. I know, the stench is almost as bad.

However, tonight all I am going to do is quote. Suprisingly, the most striking thought that I've had today about humanity or anything at all didn't come from anyone who was trying to say anything about the human condition, rather he is a political scientist commenting on bipolarity versus multipolarity in the international arena. But I think it works when talking about one's own, internal arena as well.

"Simplicity breeds certainty; certainty bolsters peace." -- John J. Mearsheimer

So, I wish you all simplicity, certainty, peace and a pleasant night.

Ouroboros

"The Ouroboros often represents self-reflexivity or cyclicality, especially in the sense of something constantly re-creating itself, the eternal return, and other things perceived as cycles that begin anew as soon as they end."

"This symbolizes the cyclic Nature of the Universe: creation out of destruction, Life out of Death. The ouroboros eats its own tail to sustain its life, in an eternal cycle of renewal"

I've been posting a lot of pictures lately and not a lot of words. Even now I don't have anything to actually say, I just feel guilty for not saying anything so I'm type, type, typing away...like I'm trying to reach a quota or something. Actually, for me I think this word-drought is a good thing. It means that I'm pretty happy with the state of things, that I'm busy enough so that I don't have a lot of time to sit and brood, and that I am able to deal with most things in the real world, I don't have to escape to blog world too often. Even though I'm feeling pretty simple-minded for having to revert to using pictures to express things, I think in most cases it's better for me than the alternative. I'd rather be content and simple than deep and tortured (although many people can testify that I fail to reach this content state very often). I want to take a writing class so that I can learn how to express beautiful things, funny things, and just plain stupid things. I wonder if they have such a class. I'm looking for something named "Happy Writing 101."

Dancing Barefoot In The Mud

This is the visual that I get whenever I think of that phrase. Pretty pink toes covered in mud. You can't see it in this picture, but I was also wearing a pretty long blue skirt, also covered in mud. And to this day it strikes me as being the most carefree, innocent thing that I can think of to do. What we need around here is a good rain and a good open field and some good music to go outside and twirl to.

Clouds

Everyday at work we all pool our money and give it to The Marianne so that she will go buy us powerball tickets on her way home. When we win, which we are destined to, I will buy this farm and I will look up at those clouds and not give one damn about them. Until then, I will go study for my clouds test, which is what I should have been doing this whole time. Adieu.

Things You Don't Realize At The Time Can Be Dangerous

This is me with short hair. Cool, no?

Now I would like to draw your attention to the background, where you will see part of my oldest, most favorite poster and part of my fish tank (say hello, Krishna). There is also what appears to be a ghost hovering over my shoulder. Que creepy...

I can't sleep tonight, which I guess is one piece in what is quickly developing into a pattern. I don't know what I want to say other than that. I'm uncomfortable. I'm hot and bothered, if you will.

[oh and I will]

And now, it is time for a tangent...[drum roll please...]...

I do not like lies. Big or small, necessary or un-, black or blue or orange, told to me or by me. I suppose this sounds naive, simple and like the protest of a young, inexperienced twit [which it is]; but I hope that I never grow out of it and I wish that some people never grew into it. That is all.

Oh, and my hair is short now and I like it a lot.

Get a Grip

I imagine that someday I will meet him and I won't like him very much and he will notice and ask me why it is that I don't like him. My reply: "I don't like tortured people." His reply: "Everyone is tortured."

Well, that settles some things. Don't take it personally, I just don't like people very much.

Vroom Vroom

This is me on the Bandit that we sold today. I know it is for the best, but it still made me sad to see it go. I felt like a different person on that bike, like someone I might want to be when I grow up. Oh well, at least I still have the jacket.

Begin Again

There are many things I am and many things I am not. One thing is for sure: I am NOT Paulino Rivera.