Friday, May 25, 2007

BOREDOM

Recently, I've been empty-minded for blog entries. Maybe this is because I have been reading more than actually writing on them. I've been also working like a dog, or like a bitch if you will. Lately, I've been watching trashy old creepy horror movies too. I can name a few: Evil Dead 1, 2, and 3, Rosemary's Baby, Night of the Living Dead (69), The Return of the Living Dead (85), Carrie, The Exorcist 1, Dawn of the Dead (70's), and so forth. Horror and spycho-thrillers are definitely my number one flicks. Been boxing and losing weight, which is way cool. As it has been crazy cold these days, I decided to buy a nice handmade sweater and a new pair of jeans pants. I wore them both last Saturday, when I went to a funky birthday party: loud live music, liters of tequila, and McD's at 4:00 am. I've got also new All Stars for myself, red color this time. All these things are sounding pretty lame on a blog to me , and, I can't imagine how they'd be sounding to any other possible reader. I guess, people really look for authenticity while going through these web journals but I haven't been able to go really further than that. I can't quite say what is going on... Well, I'm not tired of blogging... The thing is that I just don't feel like writing about fantastical matters at the moment. I'd rather keep it substantial, just like it has been one more day in any person's life. I could write here about eating disorders, drinking issues, or sexual frustations that I might have... however, I would suck on that since I don't even care for those readings myself. How could I write about something that not even I would read? I'm a regular average common individual, period. Or as I normally say, elipsis...

I spill, I clean.
I rip, I sew.
I dump, I flush.
I eat, I pay.
I bore, I apologize.
I bitch, I regret.

That's pretty much who I am.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Loved this post...

I was flipping blogs after blogs and I luckily ran into this spot. On it, there was a picture of a cat which called my attention. After reading the post, I could learn it was called Jackie. The text is so sensitive and well written that I had to bring it to my own blogspot. Jackie definitely was the greatest pet ever.

"I know that this has nothing to do with cooking, but I just found out that my 21-year-old cat died when I was on vacation. I am very upset. She was a very good cat and I loved her very much, so I want to say something about her, because she had a very interesting life for a cat.

Jackie was born in April 1986, one of five kittens born to a three-legged stray cat that my family named Hissy (she was unfriendly and hissed at everyone). I named her Jackie, short for Jack-o-lantern, because she was a black cat with orange eyes, reminding me of pumpkins and Halloween. As a kitten, Jackie was very shy and unfriendly; she was the last of the five kittens that we were able to pet. Finally, though, she came around, although throughout her adult life she continued to be very nervous and extremely wary of strangers.

One Christmas night, I think in 1989, but I'm not sure, my mom let her outside for a bathroom break. She didn't come home that night, but that wasn't entirely unusual, so no one was worried. But then the next day, she still hadn't come back, and the day after that, and the day after that as well. Soon four weeks had passed, and we thought Jackie must be lost for good. But then one afternoon, five weeks after Jackie had gone missing, I came home from school, and both of my parents were home. Strange, my dad isn't usually home in the afternoon. They looked happy, and told me to go look in the kitchen. There was Jackie, lapping up milk from her little bowl! She was skin and bones now, her ribs showing, but she was alive! We guessed that she must have gotten locked in someone's garage and survived on water all that time.

As an adult, Jackie was tough, very muscular, and didn't get along with other cats well. She found her little niece annoying, and frequently scratched her nose.

As old age set in, Jackie mellowed out, learning to tolerate her niece, and even occasionally letting acquaintances pet her. She liked milk with her meals, and sleeping in the neighbor's backyard was a favorite pastime.

I feel bad because I usually make sure to pet my cats right before I leave for the airport, but this time I didn't, and now Jackie is gone. She liked to sit in my lap and purr, and I loved her."

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Straight from the ocean top...

by Laila Chris
Day 1
The deep ocean bottom is unreachable for now.
Labor day, Mother's day, no special day... all suck at the moment
Can't say more 'cause nothing will come out
I'm destined to the quiet existence although I am not holding my yell
Here's the thing... well, maybe the thing is void

I am empowered to handle certain matters on my own as I see fit.
Or maybe not.
Won't soft-soap my virtues and it's possibly that I have none.
Am I panicking? Guess so!
I am terribly alarmed since I can't place a mask on my blank face


Day 2
Haven't reached the ocean bottom yet.
However, it is there where I'm heading to.
Fashion trends, adulthood manners, and traditional standards... all really suck
Meanwhile, I dive down and check seahorses, jelly fish, and my individuality being soaked in blood disolved in water

I am assigned to deal and use foul language as I see fit.
Or maybe not. Am I panicking? Guess not!
I won't mind black looks and won't ever care about all those prudes.
But I'm awfully in grief as I haven't found the mask to fully cover up my sadness


...to be continued

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Self-Portrait and Poetry Tuesday...




IMPRESSIONS
by Lisa Zaran

I have forced nothing out of my life
except love
and its ten thousand variations.

I bleed on nobody's carpet
except my own
which I dyed red just for this purpose.

I want nothing from you
except you
and every skeletal bone from your past.

I want your present too
and your future and your death
so that I may be the one

to carry you into the next life.

I want to be laid beside you
in a grave below roots and detection
in the same coffin

so that we can be put to rest
front to front, our mouths touching.

Is it the end of it all?

A bit of imagination I can’t push the knife in I can’t make the cut I can’t turn the wheel I can’t step off the kerb I can’t take the p...