| Tuesday, July 15, 2003 | 07:53 p.m. |

Creatures of beauty and poise, twisted into needy frightened things... Nobody's gonna get this unless they read BMB. It's Tybalt. Actually Mock!Tybalt. It's how Harley sees Tybalt inside his head...

| Tuesday, July 15, 2003 | 05:20 p.m. |

Yeah, I wrote it in about two seconds. Still, I'm pleased with the results... Again, Poppy Z's stuff is so good it's inspiring (her prose is much prettier and much more vivid than my poetry).

Rice Queen

what I want
comes from far away.
a million million million drops of water
stand between what I want and me
in a problematic puddle everyone
refers to as an ocean.
but once those million million million drops of water have been crossed...
oh, there I can have my fun.
I want
desire
crave
lust
smooth dark skin, the exotic bamboo taste and touch
the careful single fold of the eyelid creating
an almond of an eye
the full enticing lips, color
of a golden-pink eastern sunrise
begging to be breached
the dark thick crisp wave
of black hair falling over golden-kissed-kissable
shoulders.
let me spend myself
between the thighs of a beautiful asian boy
who finds me as strange and foreign
and lovely in my exotica
as I do him.
give me
japan, laos, bali, north and south korea, china, hong kong, vietnam.
give us time to spend
on shores with as many million million million grains of sand
the color of his skin
as there are drops in the ocean.

Yeah, that's my Asian-boy poem. Xenophilia much? Nooooo, not me...

| Tuesday, July 15, 2003 | 04:52 p.m. |

Lovely, scary book by Poppy Z Brite. Basically, she took Jeffrey Dahmer, gave him a different name and background, said, 'what if he didn't die', and let him go about doing whatever he liked. You must read it, but in the meantime, the book is uber-inspirational for poetry because of all the lovely phrasing, so I'm posting two poems here. Neither are named -- I'll think of something...

where shall I start?
those beautiful artist's hands
so flawless
shall I make them drip in their own crimson mess?
perhaps you could use it for ink...
oh, but you seem to be fond of those.
perhaps instead
I'll torture those lovely full lips of yours
little tiny pinpricks
bleeding the loveliness out
so I can catch it
and keep it
in a wine-bottle, the finest vintage
from the best year.
is it white, red? why neither, it's a lovely
fine copper blush of blood.
would you like some?
ah, but what a truly
fine thing about you...
such lovely nipples; do you
think I can twist them off
like bottlecaps
or strawberry stems?
in truth, my love is just this:
let me keep you forever
in little jars
I keep on shelves
and feed to guests
or pass off as Christmas gifts.

Now my problem with this is the transition between the blood-wine thing and the strawberries-nipples thing. I don't like that transition. I need a better one... anyone who wants to volunteer one, go ahead on my tagboard. Hopefully these poems freak 'self' out.

the beauty of a dead boy
lies only partially in his deadness
the smooth cool skin, pale and
pliant to my touch, the accepting
embrace of puppet-arms
if not perfect, then
made to be.
the beauty of a dead boy lies
only a bit in the way
that the hectic frantic gleam
in the wet vein-marbled eyes
of life and sex and drugs and fear
and pain, at least for my boys,
has been extinguished, each stage
of the death of that glow
lovingly catalogued, written of, praised,
moved past until suddenly
the glow is gone.
the beauty of a dead boy lies
just a bit in the way he stiffens
and then loosens, as a lover
in the throes of an intense,
impossibly long moment of ecstasy.
the beauty of a dead boy
lies mostly in his faith.
he will not walk away from me.

I like that one better, I think... expect one about pretty Oriental boys (nothing personal to any Oriental boys who happen to be reading and take offense, but one chara's a rice queen, and she articulates this man's love for pretty Oriental boys so well it's inspiring), and maybe one about the perfect victim...

| Monday, July 14, 2003 | 11:55 a.m. |

If you don't get it, then I'm sorry. Your life needs living. And you need to buy yourself about half a brain worth of humour.

Why do you always ruin my bad moods?

That's my Harley...

| Sunday, July 13, 2003 | 12:12 p.m. |

"I'm not even a mother (I'd much rather lob my ovaries at unsuspecting men as a hobby)."

Welcome to my world, ladies...

| Sunday, July 13, 2003 | 11:30 a.m. |

Hai, my CW-friend from Canada got herself a car. Yay for her

On to more serious things... You know, I've been in a mood for ponderous thoughts lately, which sucks. But since I've been in that mood... I thought I'd enlighten you. I'm thinking of being a history teacher. No one seems to really understand the importance of that. I believe that history is rather like math. All the things that have happened before today, all the battles and congresses and treaties, are factors that add up to the exact way things are today. The equation -cannot- change that way, not even slightly, or we would be living in a different world. And if you know enough of the equation of the past... and keep up with what we're adding today... well, if you're really, -really- good, you can figure up tomorrow, can't you?

I was thinking about it the other day, and |INSERT WARNING HERE: THIS WILL BE PG-13 RATED| it's not that I don't enjoy sex. I do. I really do. I'd have to be an idiot not to. But the thing of it is... I really really regret all the circumstances that brought it about, because it started with me being bitter and disillusioned, progressed to pain and general unhappiness, went on with more unhappiness, and ended in a sticky mess that probably led to even -more- breakdown than I was already dealing with. And now I realize that that special thing that most girls want, yeah, I wanted that. I still want that, somehow. And I can't get it back. And I still want it. While it was somewhat enlightening in that when I -did- have some emotional attachment that made it -more- special because of the previous experiences... it was still marred somehow. So now I have this... kind of... regret that I carry around with me. Not to mention an unfulfilled desire for something I can't get back. It sucks. I hate the way I do these things. I can never do anything the easy way...

So. Yeah. CW has a car. Happy for her. Kudos for CW, everybody!

| Friday, July 11, 2003 | 02:18 p.m. |

Sean is gone. T_T Gone, gone... But I shall live. He's not gone for -that- long. I'm just gonna... y'know... tell mom that he is, so that whenever he's "back", I can ask to go see him. XD

I crave milk. Milk is cold and thick and soothing. And it suits my five-year-old temperament.

| Wednesday, July 9, 2003 | 01:28 a.m. |

Sean claims he didn't cheat. He says that that's what the back button's for, and changing one answer to something that is also true isn't cheating. Think what you will -- but I think being dissatisfied with your original answer and retaking equals cheating.

| Wednesday, July 9, 2003 | 01:22 a.m. |

Yes, Sean and I took this quiz together, and got the same person. And didn't like it. And so we both did it again, and were happier with our different (and different from each other) answers. So we cheated. Shhhh, don't tell ^~


YOU'RE Tabitha Sinclair! She is the daughter of
Satan and a lawyer from New Jersey. For some
reason, she runs an apartment complex, and has
even become good friends with Mik
("Rasputin") and Harley
("Rasputin's Mini-Me". She's got the
classic Bad Girl rose tattoo on her chest. Tabs
is supposedly 27, but she could be lying. I
dunno. I'm not asking. But she's awfully cute--
just don't tell her I said that. ^_~

**Which Boy Meets Boy Character are you most like?**
brought to you by Quizilla

| | |

| Tuesday, July 8, 2003 | 12:42 p.m. |

You are an quiz-taker Find out what kind of quiz-taker you are

You copy other people's HTML and blindly paste it into your own pages with no concern for the consequences. What kind of Hummel figurine are you?

SOYGOLD® 2000: You are a water-rinsible solvent that contains no petroleum distillates. Your low VOCs (4.89%, 43 g/L) has been tested by EPA Method Number 24. You have ultra-low evaporative properties—0.005 @ 76° Fahrenheit relative to n-butyl acetate (NBAC) = 1—and are an FDA approved surfactant. Find out what kind of industrial solvent you are

You are Fresh Step Scoopable Unscented What brand of scooping cat litter are you?

China - Debatably the most ancient and longstanding
cultures around, it is nowadays viewed as a
heavily populated but impovershed nation.

Positives:
Big.
Eclectic History.
Communist-Run (Control).
Worldwide Manufacturer.

Negatives:
Communist-Run (Bitterness).
Technologically Outdated.
Dissent.


Which Country of the World are You?
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WHAT TYPE OF WILD CREATURE ARE YOU? (New Pictures!)
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Somehow I think they're wrong...

Friend

What Kanji word best suits you?
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you can say that you like Mozart, but not obsessed
like. You pretty much enjoy his songs and
that's about it.

What are your true feelings towards Mozart?
brought to you by Quizilla
I'm done with quiz-trekking now. Done-done, done indeed...

| Tuesday, July 8, 2003 | 12:17 a.m. |

My very first quiz-trek. *Sniffle* Baby's growing up...

You're one of those perverts. You know what I'm
talking about.

Clean yourself up, and
get outside more! Fucker.

Why Will You Go To Hell?
brought to you by Quizilla

Lord Henry Wotton

Lord Henry was the first big influence on Dorian
Gray. Henry introduced Dorian to his own
beauty because he was curious about what affect
it would have on the boy. As things turned
out, it corrupted Dorian completely, although
Henry never learned exactly how much. Still,
must have been an interesting
"study."

Like Lord Henry, you are witty, charming, and
pragmatic to the core. You believe that you
are responsible for no one and nothing beyond
your own self. You also have a penchant for
playing with the minds and lives of others that
may point to sociopathic tendencies. You might
want to keep an eye on that, lest someone get
hurt. But even if they did, you may very well
not care.

You're a little scary and kind of twisted, but
hella funny. You'd make a great short-term
friend.

Which character from The Picture of Dorian Gray are you?
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You are not European.

What's your Inner European?
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You are Lestat.

Which Famous Vampire are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I took the What Mythological Creature Are you? test by !

What type of Magic do you work?. Take the Magical Style Quiz by Paradox

Red/Green/Blue: To you, the world is logical. Everything happens
for a reason, life is scientific. You like to
find solutions. I doubt you needed to take this
quiz in order to realize this.
Made by
Sara

What color do you see the world in?
brought to you by Quizilla


free enneagram test

acquisition

WHAT IS YOUR STATE OF LIFE?
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More later! But mom wants me to go to bed now. >< Damn her...

It's your own fault you got bit, dumbass

| Monday, July 7, 2003 | 10:17 p.m. |

This is me, saying for the record: I do not encourage behavior that ends in dogs barking, snarling, snapping, biting or being otherwise agitated. If you dog bites you I figure you probably deserve it. If you're my brother I KNOW you deserve it. I can understand why my mother smacked you, in fact. So quit complaining. Sheesh.

Doggies bite

assholes who

like to die

just like you.

This applies to my brother and anyone else who likes to bother their dogs for fun.

Serious-not-Serious

| Monday, July 7, 2003 | 12:30 p.m. |

This is my blog. I'm going to use it for whatever I like. It may be my soul; it may be my passion; it may be my dreams. But it can never be more than a pale reflection of myself. I am a vivid person, and only so much can come across on a screen. These are shadows of my life...

Oooooooh! Duckie!

Sorry. Couldn't continue in the serious vein. It kills me. On to the non-important stuff... I made cookies yesterday. Mmmmm. Cookies. And they have sour cream in them. And I hate sour cream. But they're still good. Go figure. Could be the honey in them.

I am a redhead again. Whee. Redheads are fun. I enjoy them. Wait -- That means I enjoy me too... Okay, I'm lying again. But I -do- enjoy redheads that aren't me.

If I could build a ship out of my dreams
and give it wings
I wouldn't sail it.
I would give it to someone
who lacks the strength
and the heart
to build a ship that flies.
--me