tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62987202011-04-21T17:26:40.793-04:00aim: apple33shampoo. Talk to me.Rachelnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2081100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1106882079340595922005-01-27T22:13:00.000-05:002005-01-27T22:14:39.340-05:00

as promised, this blog is going. fortunately for you, i started up a new one. (oh my god im so laaaaaaame!) its all for you now. go read, dammit. http://www.bestofyourbadmoods.blogspot.com

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1106415146718808102005-01-22T13:30:00.000-05:002005-01-22T12:32:26.716-05:00

half the time i want to just delete this thing. the other half i dont care either way. so ive made a bet with myself... if i get to go out tonight (aka it doesnt snow), then i will continue with the blog for the moment. if i have to stay at home doing mostly nothing, then this thing is going straight down the drain. now i just have to sit back and see how it all goes... ps check out jakes

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1105985310056805592005-01-17T13:07:00.000-05:002005-01-17T13:08:30.056-05:00

by far one of the best things ive ever done has been keeping up with some old friends.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1105887936211004152005-01-16T09:57:00.000-05:002005-01-16T10:05:36.210-05:00

i woke up and saw the snow forming dusty little white lines in all of the cracks of the world, sticking to rooftops and pine straw like velcro, melting into porous lawns. the chimney of the house across the street is spitting wet streams of white smoke into the air and the porch light is blinking on and off, winking at me as i sit here in the upstairs window and watch. i wish i could

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1105408115576292092005-01-10T20:38:00.000-05:002005-01-10T20:48:35.576-05:00

Humanity i love you because when you're hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink ~e e cummings my report card came back today with six "a"s on it and my first thought was of the six free krispy kreme doughnuts that will be heading my way. rachel i love you because you have bought yourself a half dozen rings of sugary joy with your semi-intelligence. my room is so clean its

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1105240673080415822005-01-08T22:13:00.000-05:002005-01-08T22:17:53.080-05:00

and the heat in that stifling rubber floored gym was incredible. but really, i dont know what else to say to you. thats why i so frequently consider deleting this blog.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1105053963482755082005-01-06T18:21:00.000-05:002005-01-06T18:26:03.483-05:00

exhaustion reigns. ps: since you seem to be so curious, nate, i have read the satanic verses.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1104819647268335502005-01-04T01:40:00.000-05:002005-01-04T01:20:47.270-05:00

the world is just one big fucking explosion of color and activity that i dont much feel like dealing with here at 12.40 a.m. and ive got about six point five available hours left for sleep. but what else is there to do at 12.40 a.m. when the world is exploding around you and you cant sleep anyway? and anyway, dont you feel how warm its getting and dont you think its a sign of something bigger?

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1104076956298313332004-12-26T10:40:00.000-05:002004-12-26T11:02:36.296-05:00

outside people are taking walks all around the neighborhood through the snow and kids are sliding down the hill on flat discs. why dont they use trash can lids instead of buying those dumb discs? what happened to that idea? i remember sliding down a hill near my old house in durham when i was a kid. the way the wind would cut at your face and sting tears into your eyes and choke your lungs

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1103819283902630302004-12-23T11:21:00.000-05:002004-12-23T11:28:03.903-05:00

the failure to control who reads this and who doesnt leaves no room for me to tell you about all the ways we were and all the people i didnt think about. suffice it to say that i watched the cracks between the boards in the barn roof shift from black to gray to pink to pale glowing blue. suffice it to say that the air was cold but i wasnt.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1103582185051324912004-12-20T17:18:00.000-05:002004-12-20T17:36:25.053-05:00

My house really stands out in this neighborhood. It's the one without any lights up and you can spot it (or, rather, unspot it) from a mile away. Still, I'm not sure it's worth the effort climbing around on ladders when everyone else is going to light the neighborhood up for us anyway. So we strung a few lights around a potted plant in our kitchen and lit a couple candles along the bar and

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1103418328611940832004-12-18T19:39:00.000-05:002004-12-18T20:08:06.216-05:00

angela, i think you would like this song: "existentialism on prom night" by Straylight Run. not all of their songs are that good but this one is. It would appear that two days of rest failed to produce the desired effects, and the remainder of the week left no room for continued recovery. It's been two weeks since this began but there is still a jolt the instant food hits my stomach and there's

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1103233313989739082004-12-16T16:35:00.000-05:002004-12-16T16:43:40.046-05:00

yesterday at my doctors appointment, my doctor asked me, "if you could have any three wishes, what would they be?" i answered without pause: to have already been accepted to college, to have no work to do over break, to sleep more. why couldnt i have given world peace a passing glance? how about curing hiv/aids in africa? what about utter brilliance for myself, wealth and happiness for those

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1102801074644192472004-12-11T16:27:00.000-05:002004-12-11T16:37:54.643-05:00

last night i stood breathless in my white jersey with everything orange and loud and crazy around me and watched the scoreboard timer creep towards zero. and then the ball was streaming away towards the other end of the floor under another girls hand and i sprinted after it, legs burning, breath coming short, and together we leaped into the air and then she was on the ground crying and i was

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1102289848390153242004-12-05T18:21:00.000-05:002004-12-05T18:37:28.390-05:00

back so soon, and it feels strange. everything feels strange. the weather is unpredictable, people are unpredictable, and i am unpredictable. i dont even know why im here, dont know what i want to write. i feel good and bad at the same time and it leaves me feeling kind of empty and undecided. an indeterminate form of life? flip me upside down so you can deal with me. ive got to do some of

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1102204743659323952004-12-04T18:39:00.000-05:002004-12-04T18:59:03.660-05:00

its nice to come back here after a few days and see the comments you left. sometimes i wish i still had time to update every day but i dont and i wont unless something changes, because school cuts straight to basketball cuts straight to homework cuts straight to bed. its strange how timing works because there was such a long time when i just wanted to graduate already and leave every single

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1101692711368727232004-11-28T20:42:00.000-05:002004-11-28T20:45:11.366-05:00

this break was going pretty well until oh, about five minutes ago. actually wait... thats a lie, break kind of sucked. i am not easily satisfied.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1101512851767213932004-11-26T18:27:00.000-05:002004-11-26T18:47:31.766-05:00

happy thanksgiving, a day late. i will talk to you later.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1101011461256185212004-11-20T23:22:00.000-05:002004-11-20T23:31:01.256-05:00

if disappointment was easier to accept maybe life would be easier to accept. but i spend my days in disappointment and my nights dreaming of the days. im tired of the fuckup of priorities that seems to have invaded society. you can keep asking me what the deal is but you wont get it. you will never get it. you are a fuckup of priorities and the deal is that you will never understand that. i

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1100311832571017562004-11-12T20:58:00.000-05:002004-11-12T21:10:32.570-05:00

as most of you must surely know by now, i do not enjoy posting political commentary on my blog. however, i recently received this in an email: November 3rd Theses on the Failures of the Democratic Party---- "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting differentresults." ~Benjamin Franklin I. The 2004 presidential election was lost not by John Kerry over the last several

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1099842564068971922004-11-07T10:39:00.000-05:002004-11-07T10:49:24.066-05:00

all the trivial, mundane events that make up life - thats all that seems to be left. it doesnt mean things arent all right, just that things arent any different. i wonder if they ever have been. yesterday i talked to a jehovahs witness for a while about the apocolypse. i have a sort of twisted desire to read the bible.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1099540632113148372004-11-03T22:26:00.000-05:002004-11-03T22:57:12.113-05:00

oops, i got bored with writing. maybe more will come soon, but at the moment im not in the mood. instead, try this.... A certain shade of green - tell me, is that what you need? All signs around say, "move ahead." Will someone please explain to me your ever present lack of speed? Are your muscles bound by ropes or do crutches cloud your day? My sources say the road is clear and street signs

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1099012254568530542004-10-28T20:48:00.000-04:002004-10-28T21:10:54.566-04:00

i categorize my days by colors. today was dark blue: heavy and soft edged with the kind of weight that rests on your eyelids. but when you can keep your eyes open youll find its easy to see the season changing now. yesterday after practice i climbed on top of the giant caterpiller in the playground and rested my head against its yellow frame and watched the acorns fall on the cars. the thunk

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1098792945862288502004-10-26T08:00:00.000-04:002004-10-26T08:15:45.863-04:00

mornings like this one are uncomfortable. the sky is too gray, the wind is too strong, and the ground is too wet. but time keeps moving and clouds are pushed back by the too strong wind and the sun leans down and dries the grass and bam everything is great. so back off, morning. i got nothing for you, get nothing from you. life has been pretty good. well, maybe not life, but things. things

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1098409945117675572004-10-21T21:44:00.000-04:002004-10-21T21:52:25.116-04:00

its just apathy i guess. but school really makes me feel inadequate. i am stressed out to the point where it is physically sickening. i wonder why such stupid classes do this to me.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1098234993624681862004-10-19T20:21:00.000-04:002004-10-19T21:16:33.623-04:00

sometimes i wake up and wonder if i ever slept. the morning feels like the night feels like the day feels like the day before that. unending and unwavering and unrelenting. unmerciful. so i sit here and ask myself what went wrong about the day, but the answer is, "nothing really." that is where the problem lies. you cant fix things that arent really there in the first place. no. but

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1097964759434442472004-10-16T17:55:00.000-04:002004-10-16T18:12:39.433-04:00

math competition today. i didnt do great, but i didnt do horribly either. there was a kid there that i used to go to middle school with. i didnt really talk to him but i said hello. im glad i didnt have to talk to him. a girl from my soccer team was there too. i didnt talk to her much either. i havent been in a talkative sort of mood. ive been in a shitty sort of mood. i feel kind of

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1097760250614443462004-10-14T09:15:00.000-04:002004-10-14T09:24:10.613-04:00

i could sit here and tell you everything ive been doing for the past week, but, having already lived through all of those events, writing about them holds little appeal. ive been feeling all right. last night the lightning stung the black clouds and the rain blurred the white lines of the highway. this morning the dog is in my lap with her eyes closed and the breath whistling out of her nose.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1097193343902034722004-10-07T19:52:00.000-04:002004-10-07T19:55:43.903-04:00

hi. i guess today was a pretty good day. does that surprise you? it surprises me. but now im exhausted. worn out with being awake and active and alive. still in an okay mood. just worn out. dog sitting in my lap while i type. dcfc playing. i hope annie remembers my cd tomorrow. i hope tomorrow is okay. i hope i get to see emily. and i hope my dad gets home soon, so we can eat chinese food and

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1096941875664202282004-10-04T21:33:00.000-04:002004-10-04T22:04:35.666-04:00

Dear ------, Oh my god do you scare me. In some ways you remind me so much of myself. Dissatisfied, sometimes angry, sometimes just indifferent. Just pouring out all of these words and sentences and rhythms just to feel them come out. And maybe just a little bit violent. But your violence seems external. Pretending to kill things. Really killing things. Not seeming to worry too much over

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1096755059907932282004-10-02T17:40:00.000-04:002004-10-02T18:42:18.210-04:00

sharp corners mark the changes made. roads arent curving, theyre cutting. life isnt flowing, its jerking. and i will not change but one day i will wake up and just be gone. new. redone. you will forget who i was even quicker than i will. it is uncomfortably easy to read the future in the past. so i guess things will change. i guess the leaves will fade into a diseased nothingness. i guess the

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1096422422532668242004-09-28T21:17:00.000-04:002004-09-28T21:47:02.533-04:00

upon realizing that i had not commented on the lovely comments i received to my list-formatted post, i decided to drag myself painfully away from my homework to come address this problem. 1. thanks for the advice, claire. i can now get haloscan comments to appear very sporadically, but its definitely better than them not appearing at all! i really wish i had gotten to take computer science

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1096334985949131152004-09-27T21:11:00.000-04:002004-09-27T22:14:59.303-04:00

And she floated across the surface of the world like a halfdead drifter in a stormtossed sea, destination lacking... But oh no, don't worry; there was, of course, the glory of the wind to take her where she was desireless to go. The glory of a lifesized realword adventureless wind, shrunk and bottled by the words she had mercilessly, violently forced upon it. There was a time, now distant upon

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1096081668392774552004-09-24T22:33:00.000-04:002004-09-24T23:14:58.943-04:00

there are a thousand promises lying between my fingers and the smooth black keys before me. but tonight the sun has already burnt itself out and left us here in the healing dark, closed eyes cooled by the night and fingers steadied by the still air. and the only problem is that the night interferes with the promises lying between my fingers and the smooth black keys before me. the chair has held

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1095983555923348052004-09-23T19:36:00.000-04:002004-09-23T20:28:51.616-04:00

some silent and invisible finger has begun to rub a hint of red into a select few of the trees. the interplay of this new coloring with the soft turquoise that has streaked the sky these past few mornings has been unbelievable. it reminds of the pictures ive seen of the red rocks in utah, and of the red rock sitting up on top of my dresser that the man at the environmental conference gave me. a

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1095814435021225902004-09-21T20:32:00.000-04:002004-09-21T20:53:55.020-04:00

i dont feel like posting, so dont expect anything exciting. just wanted to put a few things out there for all of you. 1. just read lisa's blog, and she is right. people rarely comment on serious posts. i think it is simply that it makes people nervous. i know that it makes me nervous. its harder to say something appropriate in a serious situation. its harder to know the right things to

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1095726815307455062004-09-20T19:13:00.000-04:002004-09-20T20:39:47.926-04:00

there are green lights blinking deep inside the window pane: a reflection from the computer. it feels like more. like the window ought to just sigh and whisper to me, "you dont know anything." and it would be the truth. but the idea of the window whispering to me just isnt appealing. i hate whispers and the way you cant tell for a moment whether you are even hearing anything or not. i hate the

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1095365884328111602004-09-16T16:18:00.000-04:002004-09-16T16:20:23.483-04:00

i want to live in the city. in the parts where i can see what is inside of me reflected against the background of the world: rusting fences, weed-infested railroad tracks, paint peeling back like dead skin, and the obscene words sprayed onto the walls by the kids who feel the way i feel. at least there i dont feel quite so alone. at least i would blend in. i want to live completely alone. except

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1095124925369214512004-09-13T20:56:00.000-04:002004-09-13T21:22:05.370-04:00

when i was a kid i was terrified of the dark, terrified of being alone, and terrified of strangers. i used to lie in bed and think that i could feel a knife poking up at me through the mattress. thought that men would hide underneath and wait until i slept to stab me. i would stay awake for hours, arching my back painfully to lift it away from that imaginary knifepoint. so i guess i have

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1094493365518651472004-09-06T13:30:00.000-04:002004-09-06T13:56:05.516-04:00

Dear Angela, If I ever write a book, remind me to put a dedication to you inside it, for telling me I should and for boosting my confidence. Dear Saga, I have no idea who you are, but thanks for telling me which parts of my writing you liked. Which parts didn't you like? Dear Barrett, No. I wrote it for the construction workers and pizza delivery man, who will (hopefully) never read it. I

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1094330042752276492004-09-04T16:01:00.000-04:002004-09-04T16:34:02.753-04:00

shifting shades of gold in everything, thats what the world is. pulling at you, persistent and unrelenting. all those shades of gold, luring you in, teasing you forward, telling you the lies you want to hear. my hands are ready, my voice is steady, you are not around. you will not be my witness. everything is turned to gold. it will be my witness. flashes of color in the asphalt, in the

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1094302202157028982004-09-04T08:33:00.000-04:002004-09-04T08:50:02.156-04:00

i am more tired than i can tell you of things being blamed on my age. do you think i was different when i was 10? do you think this will go away when i hit the magical age of 20? how about 25? dont fool yourself. we are what we are. we are what we always have been, and we are what we always will be. the only difference is that some years peel the layers back a little more while some years

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093806125641660332004-08-29T14:40:00.000-04:002004-08-29T15:02:05.643-04:00

it is daytime but dark as night and lover, your hands on me make no sense. the gap between my body and my mind cannot be traversed by so soft a touch. so i will leave my limbs loose and limp and you will not know quite what to do except increase your desire. and my eyes will be unbridled pity. lover, learn to tame your eyes. everything you think is beautiful has teeth constantly begging to

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093717475326171832004-08-28T14:05:00.000-04:002004-08-28T14:24:35.326-04:00

I am colorblind Coffee black and egg white Pull me out from inside I am ready I am taffy stuck, tongue tied Stuttered shook and uptight Pull me out from inside I am ready I am... fine I am covered in skin No one gets to come in Pull me out from inside I am folded and unfolded and unfolding I am colorblind Coffee black and egg white Pull me out from inside I am ready I am... fine i got my

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093641590362110392004-08-27T16:08:00.000-04:002004-08-27T17:22:35.616-04:00

i am a handful of regret, shaken. curling up from deep inside like the drink thrown back that devours you internally, my anger is insatiable. it flips that switch on the world that turns it cold enough to burn. cold enough to break each fresh limb that dares to move. cold that breaks every mirror. and i cant find a mirror that will give back to me in return anymore. i am standing with my

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093470907337730052004-08-25T17:38:00.000-04:002004-08-25T17:55:07.336-04:00

ive got them all worked up and its pretty funny to watch like watching the kid from my neighborhood trying to skateboard up the hill like youve got all the power watching here from your second story window with the roofline intersecting the view you got no power it is better to sit next door without the windows staring you down and without you staring down the windows where it is dead quiet

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393275112125282004-08-24T20:21:00.000-04:002004-08-24T20:21:15.113-04:00

a fresh start.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393244352747472004-08-24T20:20:00.004-04:002004-08-24T20:20:44.353-04:00

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393229768081872004-08-24T20:20:00.003-04:002004-08-24T20:20:29.766-04:00

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393221350340362004-08-24T20:20:00.002-04:002004-08-24T20:20:21.350-04:00

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393212817477342004-08-24T20:20:00.001-04:002004-08-24T20:20:12.816-04:00

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393203910106822004-08-24T20:20:00.000-04:002004-08-24T20:20:03.910-04:00

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093393195473400862004-08-24T20:19:00.000-04:002004-08-24T20:19:55.473-04:00

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093229174433666102004-08-22T22:19:00.000-04:002004-08-22T22:46:14.433-04:00

i put on jessica simpson when the days get bad. the lyrics arent always so hot, but thats not always the most important thing. the important thing is to close your eyes and feel the world disolve from your consciousness. it can come from anything, but the important thing is the feeling: like diving into a pool and feeling the water break against your face. but bigger things broke against my

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1093124069017358582004-08-21T16:48:00.000-04:002004-08-21T17:34:29.016-04:00

im sure trevor remembers this one. the cd he made me carried me three miles thursday evening. my restless legs urged me to leave the dog at home, so i slipped on some headphones instead and let myself go. and you will never believe it: all this running, and just today i discovered a new part of the neighborhood. one you dont even have to leave the sidewalks to find. the children lured me to

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1092865535546088252004-08-18T17:04:00.000-04:002004-08-18T17:45:35.546-04:00

seemed like everyone was cutting their grass the other night. the lawns that didnt have a mower rumbling over them as we jogged past still had the green shavings scattered across the sidewalk. and so sophie and i ran along the sidewalks like we do, only we took the long way to avoid the rottweiler that was out on its own jog. sophie trotted through the grass for perhaps a half mile before

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1092623624966417272004-08-15T22:24:00.000-04:002004-08-15T22:33:44.966-04:00

it is so easy and so hard at the same time to feel bad about yourself. and i feel heartlessly cruel and hopelessly tired. mostly heartlessly cruel. but also hopelessly tired. with a generous dash of low self esteem stirred in. i want to sink in my claws... and pull. what ever happened to that good feeling on friday night? oh yeah, i slept it off. i think i wish the winter would come.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1092429876099564392004-08-13T16:28:00.000-04:002004-08-13T16:44:36.100-04:00

the hurricanes are coming and i dont even want to escape them or the blackness of their destruction. there are a pink comb and a pink paperclip lying on the desk and the colors dont seem real. nothing is real not the voice pulling me through the speakers not the night and not you. so dont bother looking in the mirror not even the one hung on the door that will swing your reflection toward and

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1092267198635881552004-08-11T19:27:00.000-04:002004-08-11T19:33:18.636-04:00

I'm on a train, but there's no one at the helm, And there's a demon in my brain starts to overwhelm..., And there it goes, my last chance for peace, You lay me down, but I'll get no release, And I say I, I try to keep awake, I try to swim beneath, I try to keep awake, But I can feel this narcolepsy slide, Into another nightmare. And there's a demon in my head who starts to play, A

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1092100268023724832004-08-09T20:27:00.000-04:002004-08-09T21:11:08.023-04:00

thanks to kit, my parents, and my dog. this night is not quite so bad anymore. i wish rocky were still here to ramble at long into the night. thanks to rocky, for ten years of compionship. i love you always, and you better not forget it. and i will remember you brown and orange, and i better not forget it. i am suddenly exhausted. my ankle hurts from soccer and i guess i will go turn on

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1092013990498667702004-08-08T20:52:00.000-04:002004-08-08T21:13:10.500-04:00

its hard to rid yourself of some things. you can take a couple days off work and stop running but you wont find it any easier. you can work seven hours and run five and a half miles and find temporary relief, but some things will return. you can force it out in the form of tears but it is amazing how quickly tears turn cold on your face, like a memory whose strength has abandoned you. and it

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091922754667529692004-08-07T19:43:00.000-04:002004-08-07T19:52:34.666-04:00

what did i come here to write about? i dont know. all i know is the sun is burning a cross into the trees as it sets and its blinding me. i love the view from this window. the roof slopes across the lower right corner of my vision, and the driveway and house across the street are cleanly white. above, the sky is a flat white and blue plane. and everything else is green. beautifully

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091664012589278352004-08-04T19:11:00.000-04:002004-08-04T20:00:12.590-04:00

my veins are violin strings and you play off them like a bad joke. your hands are tambourines and i love to watch them shake. but we are playing off a pretense and pretenses are never truth. and ive got a bar code perspective, black and white and uneven. so im a violin string and youre a bad joke. where do we go from here? i guess you could claim we started with a pretense. but pretenses

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091495901861021122004-08-02T21:03:00.000-04:002004-08-02T21:18:21.860-04:00

flip it: i'm the one getting taken to the pool hall. i think i might have to classify this as a terrific night. plus, free goodberrys. does it really get better? i wont believe it until i see it. and i dont feel like believing in anything but tomorrow night. i think ive changed my mind about this job. i think im starting to love it. most of the day i felt like this song. Hope dangles on

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091410226530552152004-08-01T20:59:00.000-04:002004-08-01T21:30:26.530-04:00

when it rains in massachusetts it is more beautiful than the way we lay sprawl-limbed and in love for the night and when it rains in massachusetts it rains for the better part of the day a wet glaze reflecting the vibrancy of the woods against the wooden house and when it rains in massachusetts the sunlight slips across the slick surface of the world and streaks the ceiling gold and teases your

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091378588226444852004-08-01T12:34:00.000-04:002004-08-01T12:43:08.226-04:00

a long night of pool halls and poker games. ive got messages on the cell from all the wrong boys, the ones i wish would stop calling. the ones who never pick up on my delicate cruelty. i must be being too subtle. the pool hall was beautiful and smoke streaked. if the one i wanted to call ever would, i would take him there. sit on the tall black and silver stools and watch the giant tvs

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091162559365201612004-07-29T23:46:00.000-04:002004-07-30T00:42:39.366-04:00

what a foolish game: meant for two and played with five.  but what the hell - at least its amusing.  and besides that, all the bets are off.  i make all these bets with myself, and all sorts of deals.  schemes to trick myself into things.  but i always break my own word within 24 hours.  anyway.  the days are slowly fading back into relative normalcy.  except for me and my five player game.  i

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1091070438161107842004-07-28T22:39:00.000-04:002004-07-28T23:07:18.163-04:00

wanna go for a ride?  i need it.  there is ugliness and there is beauty and i am none of the above.  i am the one that the 30 year old men honk at while my mother drives me to work.  i am the one who doesnt much care to talk to anyone about anything some nights.  im your lover, im your zero.  im in the face in your dreams of glass.  and there are a lot of different things in the world but i am

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1090939306520553282004-07-27T09:51:00.000-04:002004-07-27T10:41:46.520-04:00

Life is boring, and I am overrrun with frustration.  I wish I could burn every school in the world to the ground.  Maybe later I will offer you a piece of Massachusetts.  But don't count on it.  I'm almost as tired of writing as I am of living.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1090437783526972362004-07-21T14:58:00.000-04:002004-07-21T15:23:03.526-04:00

It was a lot of dragging surprisingly heavy boxes off the back of a truck, but it was okay.  My arms and back are tired, but they'll be okay.  The truck driver was nice.  I wish he could have stayed.  His hair was pure white and shaped into a crew cut, and he left his giant sombrero in the truck today when he came to help us move the boxes.  Because yesterday the dog barked at his hat.  He liked

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1090370714891977972004-07-20T20:22:00.000-04:002004-07-20T20:45:14.890-04:00

Today we ordered in Chinese around 12:30 or so.  The iced tea was in enormous plastic containers, like the kind that some restaurants put whole dishes in.  Like everyone else, the delivery man stopped to pet the dog for a while before he left.  Like everyone else, he let a stupid sort of grin slide across his face, which I returned, wishing Daniel had given him a bigger tip.  We ate sitting at

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1090286156566872862004-07-19T20:36:00.000-04:002004-07-19T21:15:56.566-04:00

lately: work, work out, sleep.  yesterday went down to greenville for my brothers birthday.  good trip, wish i could have stayed like sara said i should.  but work today at ten, for eight hours while melissa and amy go to greensboro.  we keep amys dog in the store.  he sits up on the counter looking like a stuffed animal, surprising everyone who comes to checkout.  this guy comes in today with

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1090008900125470602004-07-16T16:05:00.000-04:002004-07-16T16:16:05.673-04:00

stolen from hannah, whose name i am too lazy to hyperlink.  besides, you can just go to the links list and click on her name.   1. Who are you? 2. Are we friends? 3. When and how did we meet? 4. Do you have a crush on me? 5. Would you kiss me? 6. Describe me in one word. 7. What was your first impression? 8. Do you still think that way about me now? 9. What reminds you of me? 10. If

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1089907346096139932004-07-15T12:02:00.000-04:002004-07-15T12:02:26.096-04:00

Nova9179: aren't you just sooooo cool with your "no" when in reality you are just breaking my little heart by not being available to converse with me at ALL TIMES! Auto response from apple33shampoo: no

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1089906203275703392004-07-15T11:24:00.000-04:002004-07-15T11:46:24.650-04:00

been sweating it out upstairs where the a/c dont work. been taking cold showers and letting the cool water drip out of my hair onto my face and back long after im done. been sweating it out until its all out. last night ran until i sweat it all out. streaking across my face and back, as cleansing as the cold water i let drip from my hair after the showers. follow the road until it ends. and

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1089748186264084892004-07-13T15:49:00.000-04:002004-07-13T15:49:46.263-04:00

i shouldnt abandon you for so long. it leaves me with too much to say, yet too little determination to say it. its hot. its hot and humid and i can feel it slipping down my spine under the flimsy brown shirt stuck to my skin. but that night was dark and the fan was on and hayley started her story once there were these two girls who stole their dads credit card and went to the mall... and

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1089346033386525432004-07-08T22:38:00.000-04:002004-07-09T00:07:13.386-04:00

i wish someone would tell me that something is wrong with me besides my point of view. i need someone to tell me what is wrong with me. because either something is drastically wrong with me, or something is drastically wrong with the world. and i dont want to believe that. i want to believe that there is something im missing. something that would explain it all to me, if only i could see it.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1089217824866194802004-07-07T12:09:00.000-04:002004-07-07T12:30:24.866-04:00

there are strips of pink spread across my back, spread across my shoulders, spread across my face. it is called: the price we pay for good times. there is a throbbing beneath the skin on my temples and a twisting beneath the skin on my stomach and it is called: the price we pay for good times. in this case, the price i pay for the day with the wind rippling across my back, the waves caking my

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1089173325838341712004-07-06T23:05:00.000-04:002004-07-07T00:08:45.836-04:00

Her green plastic watering can For her fake Chinese rubber plant In the fake plastic earth That she bought from a rubber man In a town full of rubber plans To get rid of itself It wears her out, it wears her out It wears her out, it wears her out She lives with a broken man A cracked polystyrene man Who just crumbles and burns He used to do surgery For girls in the eighties But gravity always

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088993136261337002004-07-04T21:24:00.000-04:002004-07-04T22:05:36.260-04:00

from the chair i can see it. my line of sight passes between the white rectangles separating the window panes. it passes through the thick overheated air of the night. it passes through the insubstantial film of treetops across the street. and i can see it. the glowing yellow orbs of energy flung into the sky only to explode into showers of sparks drawn immediately back down to the earth.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088957643590398352004-07-04T11:48:00.000-04:002004-07-04T12:18:04.353-04:00

i wish i could play the piano. everything black and white and beautiful. i wish i could watch the keys fall under my touch and feel that twisted sort of control we exercise over all of the inanimate objects of the world. i would create something so beautiful it would hurt you. i would watch the keys fall under my touch and you would watch the keys fall under my touch and you would love me. i

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088801847863203552004-07-02T16:56:00.000-04:002004-07-02T16:57:27.863-04:00

i am officially hired. im rather excited in spite of myself. but i dont start until next saturday. how anticlimactic.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088729151225976412004-07-01T20:24:00.000-04:002004-07-01T20:56:13.143-04:00

is there music playing on your computer when you come here? it works on mine, but you can never tell whats going on beyond your range of vision. anyway, i tried to add music. it should change pretty regularly, but i make no guarantees of that. or promises. particularly no promises. time is far too real when youre waiting for something to happen. when you arent worrying, when you arent

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088627380887164522004-06-30T16:16:00.000-04:002004-06-30T16:29:40.886-04:00

the beauty of sheep is indescribable. he takes care of sheep sometimes. horses too, but they are less novel and therefore recieve less attention from my imagination. and besides - the sheep are where you find god. not horses. you can find beauty in horses, and you can get a sense of the world from horses, and you can understand from horses, but you wont find god until you look at - and i

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088391876409233832004-06-27T23:02:00.000-04:002004-06-27T23:06:58.143-04:00

oh, and go sign your name here. i dont read the magazine either and it doesnt matter. sign anyway. please. please? thanks.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088390986641307302004-06-27T22:10:00.000-04:002004-06-27T22:49:46.643-04:00

i try to be less alone but it feels like someone scraped a razor blade down the back of my throat and the house has been wordless. and it wasnt funny when the phone rang because he had gotten someone else to call for him to ask stupid questions that deserved worse answers than the one i gave while he sat in the background. it wasnt funny at all and suddenly life seemed a waste of time and i

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088369192041801062004-06-27T16:31:00.000-04:002004-06-27T16:46:32.040-04:00

all it is: get out of the house. ive been getting out a lot. feels good. no desire to post. schedules are here. chatterbox will return, at least temporarily. AP Computer Science Crain AP English Busonik Systems Theory Solomon AP Calculus BC Felder AP Spanish Slattery AP Psychology Koch Do you have a class with me?

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1088093655755365032004-06-24T11:45:00.000-04:002004-06-24T12:14:15.756-04:00

it was horribly humid outside last night. did you go out? i slammed the front door behind me around 8:30 and me and the dog, we just wandered off. i was complaining about life to amber over the cell phone and so absorbed in it that i got lost. the silver phone was pressed against my ear and my head was down watching for frogs and worms and my wrist was sore from sophie jerking at the leash

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1087589578333047142004-06-18T15:56:00.000-04:002004-06-18T16:12:58.333-04:00

ive got music playing in the background and im having a pretty good day and i feel like i should write something beautiful but i am utterly incapable and always have been. it all comes back to the same place despite the date and time. there is sunlight sliding down the roof outside this window and there are dragonflys sliding across the sunlight and there is nothing that is not meaningless

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1087441364430477852004-06-16T22:38:00.000-04:002004-06-16T23:02:44.430-04:00

the tiles are painfully white and fly at you like frisbees flung at your head when you are trying your best to walk a straight line down the length of the mall but your head is sunk down under the lack of sleep and food. you kind of float in a way but that word is s l o w and this is so fast it makes you sick and you dont even know which parts youve walked through or not walked through. and

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1087270936407635002004-06-14T23:25:00.000-04:002004-06-14T23:42:16.406-04:00

i ought to stop writing at night because during the day everything is calm and content and green like the trees that shade the window of this room and i feel calm and content and shaded with the green of the trees. but it is night and the light is as false as the words ive been saying and i wish i could strike a match and set fire to it all. just to see some real light for once. the sun is as

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1087178779959865322004-06-13T21:43:00.000-04:002004-06-13T22:06:19.960-04:00

"if thats all you will be then youll be a waste of time youve dreamed a thousand dreams none seem to stick in your mind two points for honesty it must make you sad to know that nobody cares at all" sometimes i feel like this is all i will ever be and sometimes i think im a waste of time and sometimes i think ive got too many dreams and sometimes i know i will never focus on one enough to live

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086970883905316602004-06-11T12:06:00.000-04:002004-06-11T12:21:23.906-04:00

there comes a point when, lounging in the oppressive humidity by the poolside, you have watched so many tiny children attempt to dive off the diving board that as each one flops into the pool and resurfaces, the water looks more like jello than water, shivering grossly as they enter and squeezing them back up to the air. its funny. it made me want to dive in, to prove to myself that the water

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-108687830380604402004-06-10T10:27:00.000-04:002004-06-10T10:38:23.806-04:00

you fool, you failed to fully awaken yourself before the shower did the trick for you and now you lack options and must be smothered under the daylight without ever knowing what the dawn could have given, had you but asked. but of course the power of asking lies in less accessible reaches than the mouth and is often accompanied by the pride i so carelessly deny - though perhaps it is less than

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086832708428677072004-06-09T21:54:00.000-04:002004-06-09T21:58:28.426-04:00

a three and a half hour nap, pizza for dinner, and a gift in the mail are all i needed today. its easy enough to forget that i was ever unhappy. so i am. forgetting it, that is. living in the present takes up enough time without worrying about the past. or the future, for that matter. and in the present, i am content. i feel good and i hope you do too.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086742937603413602004-06-08T20:41:00.000-04:002004-06-08T21:07:18.443-04:00

im drowning and loving it, so full of water you could punch me and i might leak on to your hand but im loving it, and i dont care if everything is dripping blue i love it. last night the pool was cold and the hot tub was hot and i am okay with it and the water flicked into my hair and face by smiling fingers and its okay no one is seeing the inside of a jail cell for any of it. though my

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086641393119363452004-06-07T16:42:00.000-04:002004-06-07T16:49:53.120-04:00

there are moments when i wish life would return to its normal, painfully boring, isolated state. moments like right now, when the clock is moving so slowly it makes me feel sick. so much has been going on that when it stops for a moment, i realize that ive forgotten how to handle such extreme monotony. but aside from the clock failing me, life is superb. i cant remember ever feeling so

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086487842375237322004-06-05T22:07:00.000-04:002004-06-05T22:10:42.376-04:00

did i mention that this has been a wonderful day? this has been a wonderful day. and im feeling optimistic. but the phone and i are worn out and sleep sounds far too appealing to resist, despite my hesitations to close my eyes on such a wonderful day. because days like these have been few and far between lately, and ive been needing it. ive been needing to feel optimistic. my hair is soft.

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086464762088379962004-06-05T15:40:00.000-04:002004-06-05T15:46:35.550-04:00

i am in an unbelievably good mood. and i can think of very few things that could possibly make me feel better. by the way, if you have not seen the movie The Day After Tomorrow, you are missing out on one hell of a laugh. if you cant find anything funny in a scene of a man being chased by a pack of wolves through an enormous frozen ship that has been stuck in the snow in the streets of new

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6298720.post-1086391833277845672004-06-04T19:25:00.000-04:002004-06-04T19:30:33.276-04:00

my parents left today for belgium. the house was quiet for a while but now that ive got a couple friends over, pizza delivered, and music on, and its not so quiet anymore. it is unbelievable how much better things feel after youve been lacking them for a while. like the pizza. and seeing friends i havent seen in a week and a half. and old school rap cds i made in middle school. everything

Rachelnoreply@blogger.com0