soft.and.gentle

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things..."

Well guys, this is it. The last post. The last post for awhile anyways. No more comments. No more reading tid bits about my dull, uneventful life.

Thank you all for eveything you have done for me. Thank you for all the advice and help you have provided me.

I cherish all the memories I have been given.

I wish you all a successful semester and a wonderful fall.

Again, thank you, we almost made it a year...(well, a year in January, but it's getting close...)

The Walrus and the Carpenter were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see. Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away," They said, "It would be grand!"

People I Hate (version 1):

-Paul

-People who talk a lot during movies

-People who only talk about themselves

-Horny, cocky guys


People I Don't Hate (version 1):

-Nice, polite boys

-People who don't talk during movies

-People who care about those around them

-People who give lots of hugs

Do you know how long I've waited? To look up from below, just to find someone like you?


I should be doing my homework. Because that's what a devoted college student does. But instead I am blogging, eating pizza, and listening to the Used. I have been listening to them like crazy lately...THE CONCERT IS COMING. I am not on duty tonight-and it rocks. But I am on duty tomorrow night; I switched with Katie.

I guess I really have nothing of importance to say. The days pass. Life goes way too fast. I have been thinking lately, as scary as it is, our race (as in the human race) is so selfish. We go to college, get degrees, go out into the workplace to make money for ourselves. We don't benefit or help anyone other then ourselves; we don't make a difference. We are just wandering along, doing what society tells us to do. Go to school, get a job, start a family, retire, die. It's so typical, so cliche. I have decided that the only reason I am going to college is so I can join the Peace Corps. I wanted to join the Peace Corps right after high school; pretty sure you have to have a college degree. So, here I am, another sheep.

To each their own, though. I'm not ragging on anyone. You individuals becoming teachers, doctors, and such, are awesome. I have the utmost respect for you. It's just not my scene. I need to see immediate differences. I literally want to feed starving children, build homes for the homeless. I need it to be big. Miles had once said that he'll donate money to help people, but he could never actually do it hands on. That's awesome too. Some people are just better at sending a check. I for one do not have any money, so that pretty much screws me there.

I once again do not know the direction of my rambling. How bout them Yankees?

Maybe it's all pipe dreams. Maybe I will be another middle of the road individual. I can only dream of bigger.

The Used ROCKS!

Cut through the black empty space we call sky. Beginning the cycle that stays. And I know in my heart we all die.

I'll grow old and start acting my age. I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate. A crown of gold. A heart that's harder than stone. And it hurts a whole lot, but it's missed when it's gone.

Visual Basic is sooo boring...

Although it does provide me with the perfect break in the day to blog. I have nothing to do, and the pawn of satan (or tablet, whichever) beckons me.

Today is my gram's birthday!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA, I LOVE YOU INFINITY!

Well, my weekend went way too fast, but isn't that how Homecoming goes...

Oh, before I forget, you can now use my site in other browsers. I had previously stated that you could only view my site in I.E. but the problem has been eradicated.

My theory has always been that the best writing comes from sorrow, pain, loss of love, hurt...because the loss of a love is the most powerful feeling in the world. Kahlil Gibran's Joy and Sorrow. Joy and sorrow are inseparable, just as love and pain are inseparable. Personally, my best writing comes from the times I am overwrought with emotion, whether it be joy or sorrow/love or pain. Sometimes I want to feel that strong emotion just so I can write like I used to. I feel like I am just walking along in life, my emotions have dried up. Do I even feel anything anymore...anything like I used to. I remember when loving for the first time felt so invigorating, or when I first felt that gut wrenching loss of the one I thought I loved the most, the one I thought I would be with forever. I feel like I have hit a wall with my art-both writing and painting. I have tried to get it back...maybe I am too busy. But, essentially, a good artist should be able to create their art no matter what. Whether it be on joy and sorrow, or the lady with ten dogs next door. Which in turn leaves me feeling inadequate...ineffective..."without"...further away from where I want to be...even more scared to try...

Would you rather look at the art, appreciate the art...or create the art? I appreciate it, and yearn for it...can I create it. Can anyone be an artist? Does anyone know the answer? Anything can be art, or so we're told. In that case, anyone can be an artist.

This all had a point, but it was lost somewhere along the way...

Just that the best art comes from strong emotion. I had proof today. My theory has been tried, tested, proven. But a theory can always be disproven, until it becomes a fact...only time will tell...

I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget... You are calm and reposed. Let your beauty unfold. Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones.

Here I am, at 2 in the morning (I guess it's Friday now, but more like late Thursday night...but really Friday morning), blogging, when I should be sleeping. Especially since this weekend is Homecoming, and we all know what that means...

I guess I am doing it out of reasurrance. Reasurrance for what I do not know.

Am I the only one whose memories make them feel like vomitting? Either vomitting because they were so wonderful, and you know you can never have them back that you get weak, faint, and before you know it you have puked all down the front of your Roger Haas basketball tournament t-shirt. Or so bad that you plead with God to make you forget, but you're concentrating so hard you don't notice the growing pile of throw-up in the trash can beside your bed. You're going to need a new trash bag soon....

On a happier note,

I have a new blog design. And it is pretty damn wonderful. But only in Internet Explorer. So if you have any other browser, use IE for the full effect. Much thanks to Awayken for the design.

I was on duty tonight...exciting...all the RAs had to be back by 12:30 to search people. Semi-exciting, but not really. All the girls on my floor are super sweet though. I couldn't ask for more. I guess I would rather have dull duty nights, then crazy, drunken stupor duty nights...

This week has gone soooo fast....Good ol Homecoming;)

It's October-October is my favorite month. And my gram's b-day is on Monday (October 4)! I love Grandma...

Megan is sleepy...so, I hope everyone has a great weekend. I am guessing this weekend will be pretty crazy:), so I don't know if I will be able to write much. You are all in my thoughts and prayers. *hugs*