who cares

you can read this. i want you to.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOWARD!!!!!!!

unless your profile lied about your birthday, in which case sorry about this.

you should tell me how old you are, so i can bake you a cake and put candles on it.

here is a birthday haiku.  for howard.

 

pongo and scrap poet

omnipresent, floats through motime

like a butterfly

 

sorry but i'm in a hurry.  love you howard.

posted by: monsoon at 10:06 | link | comments (1) |

FUCK i just wrote this hella loing post about really cool stuff and i for some reason pressed the back button instead of the post button.  maybe because it's three in tha morning?  MAN i'm so mad right now you DON'T even know.

okay, so my friend said that knowledge prevents spirituality.  more knowledge, more knowledge of evil, more evil you have to accept, but the more evil i see, the morei just want to change it.

shit that sounded better the first time.  GAH.

posted by: monsoon at 02:51 | link | comments (1) |

nore just told me that she hasn't read my blog in a while, but she just checked it and was impressed that i have steady comments coming from these good writers with cool blogs.  so here here to my intellectual motime artsy bloggers, thanks for noticen' me.

posted by: monsoon at 19:36 | link | comments (2) |

i hate shopping.  why even do it?

1.  nothing fits.  you should always have at least an hour per clothing item, start with xxxl, and work your way down.  if you're like me and go shopping about once every three years, chances are you have no eye for your size and will starve yourself for the next week after the humiliating experience.  no, best to start big and work you're way down.  it takes long but it's well worth the effort.

2.  the sales people are too cheerfull.  it's eight o'clock in the morning, i've just gotten done with my run.  i look like shit with my hair all windblown and matted from yesterday's jell, wearing sweats and the shirt i slept in, and here comes some woman with too much makeup asking how everythings doing, can she help me with anything, am i having any luck, i say no, i feel fat, your clothes are all designed for brooms.  well let me know if you need anything, she says, and bounces away.

3.  everything costs too much.  i am a thrift store addict, twelve dollars for a blouse is absolutely rediculous.  but i need work clothes and i work in an insurance office, so i'm sifting through the clearance section, and of course eveything is either xxl or xxs, which doesn't work with problem 1 because i try on the xxl, come back, and the next smallest size is an xxs which fits rather comfortably around my wrist.  all of a sudden i spot some great pants in (what what i hope is) my size, try them on, and they're perfect.  what luck!  i think, and skip light heartedly back to the display to look at the pleasantly reduced clearance price.  but of course in my frustrated searching i've wandered clear twenty feet away from the clearance section and now find myself smack dab in the middle of the arm-and-leg section.  i throw the pants down in disgust and as i storm back to give the clearance section a last futile look, i hear a sugary voice yell 'you dropped this ma'am!' behind me.

4.  there are annoying girls everywhere.  i'm trying to squeeze into the made-for-a-broomstick pants and some girls who are, of course, sharing a stall next to me are gabbing away about how cute everything is.   'isn't this cute?!?!?'  'oh my god that is so cute!!!'  'well that looks really cute on you!!!'  'you think so?  i think it would look cuter on you!!!'  i imagine two brooms having this conversation, wearing the pants that are now wedged around my waist and cutting of the circulation to my diaphragm (yes, it's possible).  this makes me feel a little better.

5.  no one else seems to notice how outrageously expensive everything is.  i wonder how much the broomstick pants could have cost to make, considering they are made up of approximately 3 square feet of material.  i see a pair of pants that cost 27 dollars and estimate the cost to be around 5, at the most.  i marvel at the people who buy these pants.  i think about stealing a tag off of a pair of clearance pants and sticking it on the tag for the 27 dollar pants and seeing if anyone will notice.  but i don't.  instead i walk right by them without sparing a glance, and am content to think about the kind of horrible people who buy 27 dollar pairs of pants, and how annoying they will be when they buy them and tell everyone how cute they are.

6.  i spend an hour and nearly thirty dollars on two shirts.  i'm completely disgusted with myself.  the woman at the counter rings it up and says 'you sure cought some bargains today.'  i figure she's trying to rub it in my face that i've just been raped by corperate america so i don't say anything and simply scowl at her.  i also scowl at the boy who puts my clothes in a bag for me.  i scowl at the bag when he hands to me, at the security guard by the front doors, and all the way to my car, where i scowl at the general public as i drive out of the parking lot. 

ugh.

posted by: monsoon at 09:41 | link | comments |

so many things to write about this week.  i'm always imagining what my post about this will sound like, then when i get home i just don't do it.

 

1.  i went to stockton and saw mary and nikola.  i haven’t seen mary in nearly three years and nikola and i just showed up at her house.  she came out and when she saw me her face lit up and i thought, everyone should get to be looked at that way by someone.  she ran and jumped in my arms and i held onto her and swung her around.  she's so thin now because of all the meth.  but she's beautiful too.  the scars on her arms are jolting and it's hard not to look at them.  she's so tragic.  at one point i noticed one on her wrist and i recognized it as the very first, when we were in eighth grade she came to school one morning and showed it to me.  i lifted her hand and ran my thumb across it and said something along the lines of holy shit, the one that started it all.  and i could feel her tense and then relax because she can tell i'm not condemning, but reminiscing, as strange as that is.  she was wearing a little flowery dress and she tried desperately to get nikola and me to smoke but we wouldn't budge.  so she smoked alone.  and all of a sudden it was like no time had passed but we had all grown up.  the christian the satanist and the meth head.  but i'm comfortable with myself now, i'm not afraid of them.  and the three of sat around liberty park, talking about our lives of the past present and hopeful future. 

 

2.  mary left and i spent a good six hours talking with nikola.  we talked about God and Satan and a million things.  she is (to be fair to her i have to explain) a Lucifarian.  they believe that the devil is a sort of other god, and it wasn't wrong for him to fall from God, and he's not really evil.  sort of.  the funny thing, well i guess it's not really funny, but, the interesting thing is that she believes that God is right.  she says after being involved in the sect, for lack of a better word, for a few years, she has found that though both will provide for you, the difference is that ultimately God cares about you, and Lucifer (as she would remind me to call him) cares about himself.  i've never known anyone who wants the truth as much as she does.  she's read the whole bible, she's studied latin to read ancient manuscripts, she's tried everything.  the problem is that she could never feel God.  she knows that people who he takes care of are happier. 

 

what's more is she told me i'm different now.  she told me that she could tell that whatever she told me wouldn't mess up my beliefs.  but i'm such a fearful person.  i don't like knowing about or being aware of anything evil.  i just freak out easily.  but that day.  i was different some how.  it was amazing.  i was just stronger.  she was talking about a book of revelation taken out of the bible that talked about what would happen if the devil won, and i didn't care.  i love god and he'll take care of me and all of a sudden i was so firm in my beliefs.  firmer than i've ever been about anything in my life and it was amazing how i just wasn't scared.  i could have done anything.  and she told me things she'd never told anyone and said that she'd never met anyone, especially a christian, who she felt could handle her before.  she doesn't want to talk to a christian about any of it because she's afraid of turning them.  and there i was, strong as a rock, telling her that she could tell me anything and i promise i can take it.  and i tried so hard not to preach but i wanted so badly for her to understand that she was right, it is better.  it's like she feels like God would never take her back.  and the way her face lit up when i was talking about him and i can tell she wants him but she's going about it by studying and trying to fit the lesser known pieces together, like missing books of the bible.  and i told her i'm not sure i even believe in the bible anymore, i believe in what i feel.  and i just can't do that, she told me.  i can't wait to go back.  she's not in the place as me, spiritually, but she's on the same level.  deeper, even.  she knows how important it is.  i should tell her to read c.s. lewis.  anyway.  possibly one of the most intense conversations of my life.

 

3.  she called me.  it's worth it to hear her voice.  i'm just going to have to uninfatuate myself, right?  i mean, i can do that, right?  we talked aimlessly for half an hour.  oh.  my.  goodness.  her effing voice.  sliding over me.  i can do this.  i can do this.  

 

4.  i found a house i want, in the city.  please let them write back.  please.

posted by: monsoon at 16:47 | link | comments (1) |

i went to the castro for the first time today.  driving down market street and i think, 'we should be getting there by now.'  i'm following them and i'm by myself in my car.  it's 9:30 at night and all of a sudden everything is bright and i see the flag.  it's huge, bigger than the american flag usually is.  it must be at least fifteen feet long, i think.  and then they're everywhere, i don't know how i missed them.  effing rainbows upon rainbows.  bars with big neon rainbow lights pointing at the doors, posters and flag and shops everywhere.  but it's the huge flag, waving a tiny bit in the night air, that looks like the statue of liberty to me.  i thought of whoever got that flag put there in the first place.  whoever pulled the rope for the first time and hoisted it up.  how enormous it must have seemed when it was still up on the ground.  now it's got to be forty feet in the air and it's lit up like everything in san francisco is at night, the reflection of the streets and the clouds. 

it takes me at least twenty minutes to park and when i get out i'm far from the noise and light o the castro.  i'm in a regular san francisco street but i can feel it's close because i see a guy couple walking in the right direction.  i remember hearing that this is the safest part of the city and as i walk i fully appreciate the truth in that.  i appreciate the absence of bums and gross old men.  there are groups of young guys in tight pants, couples and people sitting on the curb playing music for money, but they don't look like bums as much as just street performers. 

it makes me happy when i finally see another female.  a middle aged woman who smiles when she passes me.  and i get to market and castro and it's like another world.  one were everyone's gay and men apparently outnumber women fifty to one.  but i spot the huge sign for the castro theatre, which is where i'm meeting them for the gay film festival.  i get closer and can tell the people around are there for the same movie as me because they are all women.  and i've never seen so many lesbians at once in my life.  a lot of them are middle aged.  most of them are a few years older.  there are several beautiful androgenous and i try not to stare but it's hard because i've never seen anything like it.  i mean, i've seen a beautiful androgenous, but not a group of five of them.  talking and holding onto their respective femmes. 

the movie kind of sucks.  bashes christians a bit and is a little too artsy for my taste.  made worse by the fact that i don't feel like talking about it after, so i've got all my analysis bottled up inside.  we walk back to our cars and it's amazing how it just stops so suddenly, and it's the real world again.  i drive crazy on the freeway, manage to race two people and the adrenaline keeps we alert.  i blast radiohead idiotech and pretend i have some one to come to at two in the morning. 

she has a girlfriend. 

posted by: monsoon at 01:45 | link | comments (2) |

I'm infatuated.  with this girl.  same one.  it's so funny how i've been persuing her.  like, i remember hearing her voice for the first time a few weeks ago.  i'd seen her around for a long time, but all of a sudden i passed by her and she thought i was looking for some one else, and 'she's in there,'  she told me.  and i just about effing melted into a big gooey pile of girl right there all over her feet.  like seriously, the way it happens in movies.  and i just can't get enough of her voice.  and the friend of her's, who she thought i'd been looking for that day, now thinks i like her because i follow her around like a puppy dog, hoping to get a glimpse of her, because they're really good friends.  and now she's emailed me, because i gave her my email in her yearbook and. . . . and. . . .  i really almost died.  i got home at around 1 last night, because i'd been in the city helping nore move, and i thought, i refuse to spend all summer checking my email every five minutes to see if she's written me.  i'll check this once, and then give up and be resigned to never see her again.  and, low and behold, there is a god.  she wrote to me.  sigh.  what a dreamboat.

posted by: monsoon at 08:56 | link | comments (2) |

so today's the day.  hmm.

posted by: monsoon at 06:45 | link | comments (1) |

tomorrow is the beginnning of the end.  two days of finals and that's it.  done.  gone forever.  god how i loathe this place.  i anticipate the city like christmas presents.  i don't want to be let down.  i refuse to be.  and i anticipate my life.  i'm suffocating.  anything is better than here.  these stupid kids everywhere.  talking about the senior get together and what they'll wear to graduation and what they're doing next year and it's all so mundane and they sound so effing happy i'll have diabetes before this weekend.  gah!  this has been productive.  it's 2 in the morning and i need to start typing up the papers due for my gov final.  gah.

posted by: monsoon at 02:00 | link | comments |

i had a phase for the past few weeks where i was really happy with myself.  how i looked, who i was, everything.  and now, either i've gained a whole lot of weight in the past three days or i've just lost the phase.  and i think i've just lost the phase because i know i've been loosing weight.  blueh.  want to be pure and empty.

posted by: monsoon at 16:56 | link | comments |

annoyed with gender profiling today.

i went with a group from my chrch on saturday to clean up this guy's yard and rebuild a decrepit fence for him because he's in a wheelchair.  out of maybe thirty there were five girls, and we worked together, bushwhacking.  and there was this girl.  every ten minutes, something was too hard.  'let's get one of the boys who likes to do boy things over here to till/weed wack/chop this branch.  the branch wasn't even thick!  i'd chopped branches!  she wouldn't even try.  and she'd call 'jesse!'  all girly and he'd run over and chop the branch and i'm thinking it's not like he's chopping it with his penis, what difference does it make?  man.  girls can be so annoying some times.

i've been trying to decide if i like guy girls or girl girls.  and i like androgenous girls.  just, people. 

i have deep voice, i just found out.  i asked a guy in one of my classes, and he started making fun of me, making his voice really deep and saying no no, not at all.  so i take that as a yes?  i mean i thought i had kind of a deep voice.  and when i'm stoned or really tired my voice just naturally relaxes and i talk really reeeally deep.  but i don't know.  apparently i have a really deep voice.  for a girl.  but i think i like that.  i like talking slowly and deliberately.  and i like singing really low.  it feels good.  anyway.

posted by: monsoon at 11:57 | link | comments |

i hate that i'm becomeing one of those christians that sermons are directed towards.  i live from one sunday to the next.  i get my fix and then forget about it and think well i'll start being a christian next sunday.  i hate it hate it hate it.  so much.  he's not first and i need him to be.  and it's just me.  me forgetting.  me being selfish.  i don't care if i'm gay.  god should still be first.  i still want him to be first.  i'm still going to college for him.  i'm still reaching for him.  i hate who i've become lately.  i'm selfish and judgmental and i can see myself changing.  laughing at things that shouldn't be funny and becoming some one i don't want to be around certain people.  i want to be who i was.  before i became, whoever i am now.  not wanting anything unless it was helping me grow.  unless it was from him.  and now.  i don't know.  it's just not there.  there's not that constancy.  i was always aware of him.  i prayed all the time.  between classes, during classes, driving walking in band at home while i was eating, whatever.  if there was room in my thoughts for prayer, i prayed.  i talked to god about anything and everything.  and i want that again.  i don't know.  i suppose, being a christian, it will always be like this.  the back and forth, the shortcomings.  jesus loves me. this i know.

posted by: monsoon at 22:37 | link | comments (1) |

i think i'm a hopeless romantic.  i wish i were a really good looking guy so i could just, be romantic at people all the time.  it's so annoying how careful i have to be.  my gaydar is only so accurate. 

sometimes girls are so beautiful, i can't even take it.  i don't want to be a shallow person, and far be it from me to like some one on breathtaking beauty alone.  but god.  girls are so great.  

god.  am i really gay?  or do i have a terrible body image and that's why i'm obsessed with girls?  i mean, i'm fourteen years old and guys never like me and i'm constantly depressed over some guy i like going out with one of my friends, and i kind of like girls and all of a sudden i realize that it would be really easy for me to get a girlfriend.  so.  if i had been prettier, or flirtier, or worn makeup, maybe i would have been attractive and never given girls another thought.  i did like guys.  a lot.  i've got scares on my legs to prove how much i cared about guys, in case i ever forget.  and a while ago when i tried to see if i could be straight, it actually kind of started to happen.  i think.  i can't really imagine it now that i've given up, but i journaled at the time and i seemed pretty sure that something was happening.  and there was actually a guy.  not who liked me, of course, but that's not really the point.  but the second i get the chance to be with a girl, i drop it all. 

fag haggardy.  where have i heard that?  sorry, random tangent.

i'm so comfortable with myself now.  i don't tell people about it really because i just don't want to rub it in anyones face, but if some one asked i would say yeah, i'm fairly gay.  yes.  and most people know, sort of.  i just.  i don't know.  i'm happy with being gay.  it feels good to just give in and wear trucker hats, as cliche as that is. 

posted by: monsoon at 13:30 | link | comments |

it's 4 am and i cannot sleep for anything.  so, i mean, obviously, i need to blog. 

i would like to take this opportunity to talk about motime.

i hecka love motime.

i was at bible study a while ago and mentioned blogging and a girl didn't know what it was.  i explained it to her and she got a funny look on her face and said, well why would you want to do that? 

hmm.  good question.

i'm not sure. so i can impress my friends and tell them things indirectly that i want them to know but can't just come out and say?  sometimes.  to impress total strangers and get sympathy for my most weird and sometimes insane thoughts?  used to be.  to impress howard?  definitely. 

really though, when you get right down to it, why blog?  typing is faster than writing.  but writing is nice.  maybe i could write and then post my journal on some bouletin board somewhere.  like at school?  i suppose that would be more like xanga.  in some little coffe shop would be more like motime.  and passersby could pause to read a little, and jot down notes to me.  there would be coffee stains on some of the pages that some one had taken off the board and sat down to read.  maybe rings from some one setting a mug down on them.  i like that idea. 

i think blogging holds me accountable.  i've never been able to keep a journal for more than a couple of weeks.  and i've been on motime for over a year and a half, give or take a few months in between blogs. 

and motime is so friendly.  so close knit.  there are usually only between 10 and 18 people on at a time.  and i love recognising people.  there are names that i've gotten used to seeing.  if not on my blog, just around.  banzaidescent, americangirl, moonglow, jackal,  ha, and barkalot.  she's a friggen genius. 

i don't know.  motime is just great.

i should try and get the two hours sleep before school.  goodnight motime.

posted by: monsoon at 04:39 | link | comments (2) |

sorry, i had kind of a stressful night yesterday.  i'm over it now though.  back to business as usual, being grateful for my detatchment from humanity. 

i had a big band concert yesterday.  end of the year.  my band director gives out awards to the seniors.  outstanding brass, woodwind, jazz, that sort of thing.  there's also a john philip souza award.  which isn't even given out every year.  it's special.  every one wants it.  i could taste it.  but i would have settled for jazz.  i mean of course i would get a trophy.  me, lead trombone, best soloist in jazz, band is my life, and all that.  i knew i'd get something.  and then he called my name.  trombone, trumpet, jazz marching concert, outstanding brass.  OUTSTANDING BRASS.  not outstanding musician, even.  and i'm smiling and every one's cheering and i hate him because i'm not good enough, i'm not the best.  i'm always the best.  i had tried so hard to not think about these awards.  i didn't want this to happen.  i didn't want expectations.  he went on announcing people, awards.  and the last one, who we knew would be the souza, all of a sudden i realized it would be chris.  chris, drumline snare captain.  and he's so nice and had been so sure that i was getting the souza, and i knew he had had absolutely no idea.  and all of a sudden i was so happy for him that i totally forgot that he was walking up to get my award.  i started a drumroll on the table for him and stood up and cheered because he deserved it.  and i learned that i'm an asshole.  i'm an extremely selfish person, if only in ways that no one can see.  i got outstanding brass.  i'm an outstanding brass player.  and i'm proud of my award. 

the award winners have their names engraved on a plaque for each award in the band room.  today i went and looked at the outstanding brass plaque and saw, above where my name would go, one other name.  it was the girl who headed the trombone section before me.  she was amazing.  could just wail on bone.  and i'm really glad my name's going under hers. 

anyway.  i'm such a band geek.  god i love it.

posted by: monsoon at 19:01 | link | comments (1) |

i need someone.  someone to call me.  someone to ask how am i am and when i say fine, to know that i'm lying.  someone constant.  anyone. even a little constant. 

i'm so afraid of not changing.  i'm terrified that everywhere i go it will always be the same.  i don't understand how to interact with people.  i don't get what i'm not doing right.  it just doesn't make any fucking sense.  you say hi, they say hi, you joke around a bit, you invite them to hang out, they say no.  or blah blah blah, you invite them to hang out, they say yes, then you hang out once and never do anything again.  it's so mundane.  gah.  so. . .  need a word.  tedious.  stupid.  social interaction is stupid.  and i'm so, so scared that i'll move to san francisco next month and it will all be the same.  i'll sort of meet people.  i'll sort of have people who i know and talk to and say something funny every once in a while.  but i'll never make it to hanging out with anyone.  never make it to actually having friends.  i'm so sick of being alone all the time.  i hate being alone.  all i do is sit around all day.  in my room.  alone.  wish i weren't alone.  it's fucking pathetic.  am i cussing more than usual?  i'm just not normal.  i want to be normal.  i want to interact with other stupid teenagers normally.  i want to care about the things they care about and do the things they do.  or rather, i want them to be like me.  but i just want one, for now.  just one person who will call me, sometimes.  one person to get all my jokes.  listen to the same music as me.  that's all.  i think i could stand being alone all the time if i had some one to give a fuck about me from some where else.  just some one to think about me.  sometimes.

i don't know what i'm doing, moving out on my own.  i mean, it's not like i have some one to move out with or anything.   but still.  i can't believe it.  i'm going to die next year.  just die.  what am i doing?  truth is i have no idea.  truth is i just pick whatever makes me feel the least bad and hope that it's what i should be doing.  truth is i have no idea what god wants me to do.  truth is i'm scared.  truth is i don't think i'm ready for this.  truth is i'm sexually frustrated and sexually confused, not a good combination.  i don't know.  i hate high school so much.  god.  god i hate it here.  i hate walking around by myself.  i hate it when people wave at me.  i want to scream don't even look at me.  if you cared you'd walk the ten feet over here and ask how i am, how's my day going.  what's that written on my shoes.  i hate the chit chat.  i feel like john nash.  i want to say lets just skip all this have sex, because that's what  i'm aiming for anyway.  except it's not.  i want to say lets just skip all this and go someplace and discuss our beliefs and morals and tell me your life story and everything about you and the things that make you sad and happy and nostalgic and lets talk about tolstoy and byron and sip chai together.  but it doesn't work that way, however much i wish it did. 

kim i miss you. 

anyone feel like telling me anything?  anything at all.  i really want to know. 

posted by: monsoon at 22:48 | link | comments (1) |

i daydream lately.  i'm not even here anymore.  i'm already gone.  i'm already some one else, somewhere else, preoccupied. 

i lost six pounds this week.  i'm not sure how i feel about this.  i don't want to mess myself up mentally again.  because right now i'm okay.  but then, it's really great, to loose six pounds in a week.  but then, i can tell i'm not being healthy.  i'm weak.  i get dizzy all the time.  crap i hate this.  i just need a balance.  i mean, can't i lose six pounds a week and be healthy?  is that so impossible?  i mean, it wasn't hard.  imagine if i really applied myself.  to starving, i mean.  funny how i can do it now that i'm okay, but when i actually had problems i could never stop eating. 

i told my mom i'm on a diet and she's always asking me now what i've eaten.  and she always asks at the wrong times, and.  anyway.  i'm not going to worry about that now.

but i need to get really skinny so i can shave my head.  man i want to shave my head.

i bought eyeliner yesterday.  and i wore it.  and it felt...  weird.  like i was crossdressing, but in good way.  like a guy who feels bad because he likes wearing makeup.  mmm.  i like being pretty.  and i like being a girl.  and man i like girls so much. 

posted by: monsoon at 20:10 | link | comments |

at church today a guy came up to me and told me i was annointed.  he looked so thrilled about it too.  i can feel gods presence all around you.  you love deeply, he said.  i mean, you don't say that to be nice.  that would be a horrible thing to do.  i was taken so off guard by it that i sort of just, i don't know.  said thanks and laughed it off.  i don't feel very annointed, that's for sure.  but i think i believe in that, being able to sense god in some people.  whether because they are so close to him or because, he just likes some people.  that's how she was, my love.  and i could feel it all around her.  she radiated with god.  despite the fact that when i met her she was angry and rebelling against him.  despite the fact that now she doesn't really consider herself a christian.  it was what made me see that he was real.  it's what made me want him.  that was what i wanted.  she still has it.  it's harder to tell now that we know each other so well.  not like when you first get to know some one and you can just tell.  but i can still tell.  like it's just deeper in her.  it's like a smell.  this connection.  but i don't know.  i don't want to get all pentacostal or anything.  but he didn't seem all pentacostal.  he was just like, hey there, how are you do- wow, you're really close to god.  sort of thing. 

i've taken it all back.  everything i was trying to give up.  my whole life.  sort of.  when i pray lately i feel so close to god.  i feel like i'm becoming closer to him even know, when i'm somehow, in a way i can't even put my finger on, pulling away from him.  like every other cell in my body is him, there's no way he's leaving.  and it's reassuring.  there's this strength that i know that i don't have.  like a friend who you ignore but know that no matter what, they'll always be there.  i mean i'm a little new age-y, a little gay, a little too in love with a lot of things of the world.  but i'm still in love with god. i know he knows that.  and i try.  and i long and i love to worship. 

posted by: monsoon at 21:06 | link | comments |

mywastedheart, howard.  my cute little emo friend whom i love without end. . .  and you're crazy howard, i hope you get paid for this. . .

posted by: monsoon at 13:27 | link | comments (1) |

hey howard, if you check up on me, i brought some one to motime!  yey!  you put up with me for three years and i have finally given something back to the community. . .

posted by: monsoon at 23:59 | link | comments (1) |

so.  i'm on a diet, and it feels healthy this time.  like, i'm eating, just not as much.  and i try to eat healthy things.  like salad and water, and food with nutra- in the title.  like... nutragrain.  and... yeah, stuff like that.  and it takes so much effort to eat anything lately.  i walk to the fridge and think of all the effort of making the sandwich, heating up the leftover rice.  and how it's not going to taste quite right anyway.  i usually have a specific food that i eat all the time.  smoothie, ceasar salad, vaggie burito, cheese quesadilla, have been the recent ones.  and when i don't have one, i just don't feel like eating.  this makes dieting much easier. 

it feels so good to feel thin.  i've realised that i can feel thin without actually looking thin.  which is pretty much what i wanted, to feel thin.  i'm not all that pretty, being thin wouldn't help me all that much on account of i don't wear makeup or put much effort into my clothes or anything.  i dress like a guy and barely manage to shower every other day.  but i would like to feel thin.  for myself. 

 

 

posted by: monsoon at 18:44 | link | comments (1) |

6:15, saturday morning.  i have to take my SATs today.  my problem with tests like that is that i get bored.  i start to get aggitated and my mind wanders and i bocome lazy, if a question starts to take too long i just guess because i need to hurry up and get out of the quiet and scratching pencils and flipping papers and light, suppressed coughing.  i'll need patience and calm today.  deep breath.  in and out.

posted by: monsoon at 06:20 | link | comments |

listening to engine heart by mirah, and it's making me very light and, jovulant.  i've never used that word before, i don't know what it means, but that's okay. 

i'm going to spirit west coast, which is great.  and i remembered that my cousine lives in santa cruz, which is going to save us all about 80 dollars each on a hotel (yey!), and we're all a bit poor, so this is great.i can't wait.  david crowder will be there.  i want to tell him  thathim and i should be best friends (i almost wrote lol there, a sign that i've been iming too much lately.  lol.).  i mean, i don't want to be a stalker or anything, but david crowder is my soul mate.  okay so he's married, and i'm gay, but still.  trivialities.  funny that what i'm looking forward to most right now is the drive. . .  i love driving so much.  the best times in the day, when i feel most myself, most ready for anything, are when i'm on the freeway, blasting the beatsteaks, singing at the top of my lungs, all the windows down.  i can't wait to drive to school.

shit i have SATs tomorrow.  hecka keep forgeting.  are you supposed to study or something?  i should take caffien pills before or something.  wonder where you get them. 

the beatles don't make any sense.

He wear no shoeshine he got toe-jam football
He got monkey finger he shoot coca-cola
He say I know you, you know me
One thing I can tell you is you got to be free
Come together right now over me

um, what?  excuse me? 

i need to brush my teeth.  yummy.

posted by: monsoon at 06:36 | link | comments |

I've been driving around at unreasonably high speeds with all the windows dow, sunroof open, blasting two princes by the spin doctors, and janes addiction.  this, i believe, is the best and only way to get in the correct mood for summer.  i'm so happy right now.  my life is about to start.  i feel like i'm about to be born in two weeks, or something.  and i will not miss this place.  i was was walking around at school, wondering at how there is absolutely nothing there for me.  the place is pregnant with stagnancy.  i won't miss it.  nothing about it, nothing.  i love how disconnected i am.  i've come to appreciate it.  had i ever actually made any friends, i might have been tied there.  i don't ever want to be tied to anyone again.  i want to be full of everything, experience everything, go anywhere.  college is just like, a tiny little step.  the first little step towards my life.  but it's coming.  four years is nothing. . .  i feel so young and, ready. 

i walk around barefoot most everywhere, as is my summer tradition, and i'm letting myself enjoy the sun like i never could before.  it used to be always rain for me, i hated the sun.  loathed it, what it did to people.  and here i am, shorts and sandals and i wasnt to go swimming and have picknicks and be in love.  and i love it.  i love being happy.  i've spent so long being crazy, i'm ready to be okay now.  i'm ready to stop being peranoid and depressed.  i'm ready to be done with my rediculously omnipresent ocd.  i'm so ready.  and it feels good.  i feel like i could do anything.  i should go skydiving.  i need to go practice my trombone.

posted by: monsoon at 10:23 | link | comments |

i miss romance.  i don't necessarily miss being in a relationship.  i don't miss kissing or anything like that.  i miss being romantic.  i miss having some one to please all the time.  i want to write love songs and be at her beck abd call.  i want some one to adore.  the other girls i know, they're just like guys.  maybe i'm a hopeless romantic, maybe i'm just not good at being a dyke.  but i want something sweet.  is innocence such a bad thing?  it's like, since it's a gay relationship, it's already more sexual that usual, so, i don't know.  they automatically become gross and horny.  i don't have any inclination towards porn or, i don't know, anything.   i like holding hands.  and, respect.  is respect really so hard? 

 

i would make such a great guy.  if i liked guys, i would want a boyfriend like me.  but i'm so glad i'm a girl.

 

and now i have a crush, and i love it because it's cute.  im eighteen.  are eighteen year olds allowed to have crushes still?  she so pretty, and when i see her i get nervous and i want to do something to stand out, to say here i am, the love of your life!  but then i get scared, and just try not to make eye contact.

 

she has a girlfriend.  this is the other problem.

 

but their totally wrong.  i just know it.  i've never actually met her girlfriend, but that's besides the point.

 

if i ever for some reason had a boyfriend, i would always be wanting to buy him presents and write songs for him, which isn't really okay for girls to do.  why?

posted by: monsoon at 00:57 | link | comments |

i have a crush again, and i like it.  and she doesn't know i exsist.  i'm a teenage dirtbag baby.

posted by: monsoon at 00:32 | link | comments |