DAY 12:

ITS THREE IN THE MORN'.

what am i doing up? with cake in my hand and nothing on my brain.

i like reading peoples blogs. i like knowing im not the only one that thinks funky like that.

so, im thousands of miles away from home. i was so glad to go, i was like 'i need to get away!'

and gosh, i think the only reason i wanted to get away was to realize on how much i need to get back. ive realized so many things. ive been so apathetic towards highschool, and with all a good point, but still. having this "im not gona see these people anymore in a few months" attitude is wearing thin. i've already been gone for about three weeks and i already miss well everybody. i'll list some of themin my daily schedule:

-1st: i miss wang and talking to her across the room, and caldy telling us about his life, and kevins insane outbursts and getting burned for being ecaudorian and burning back even harder about being a lowlife cocaine selling colombian.

-2nd: I MISS ROSE. and telling her random stories and making rididiculous noises and dances. and i miss maymay.

-3rd:MOMO AND JOJO.

-4th:not paying attention to class. and thinking about lunch. and talking to people. and sneaking gatorades for mark.

-5th: p.c. everyone but hitler. i like being the loudest, well, not really.

-6th: holmey hitting me on the head, and guessing if mayhall is coming or not, and talking to MIKEL. hes prolly one of the only reasons i can stay in that class, him and holmey.

I MISS LATE NITE ADVENTURES WITH LARA AND DION AND SUNNY AND LAYING ON THE STREET AT FOUR IN THE MORNING AND BEING IN A VAN TILL THE SUN COMES UP. AND I MISS DRESS SHOPPING WITH MOMO AND GETTING VISITED AT MY HOUSE IN MY PJ'S. AND I MISS MY COUSINS. AND I MISS MILK. I MISS MY CALIFORNIA COW MILK.

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY I MISS RANCH.

SWEET OL' RANCH.

well, im done sounding like a rotten 10 year old. ive lost all my aesthetic dignity. but you know what. im not here to impress.

OH AND ONLY 18 MORE DAYS.

HARK! thy hairy angels' wings.

its that time again. bring out the holly and run away from that mistletoe.
cause baby, its christmas.

i'm going to have to say,
it wasnt a bad christmas eve, ate some turkey and ham and tamales (yes, i know im a flamin' latina feevvaaa), talked to my HB mar mar, found myself something to do on the 25th (MADE MY DAY)and slighty professed my love. just kidding about the last one.
tomorrow, its opening presents time and i really dont care what i get im just grateful for today..like really it couldnt be better. well, it could be better. but i mean take what you have.
i feel kinda pointless. but not a bad pointless. just i have no point. no creative juices. no mojo.
oh well.



i love this man.
best christmas songs ever.

your love is a place to rest.

i stand there staring if i should come to you,
touching you, icy metallic and cold.
a silent battle you won this time, i sit on you the way lovers very well do.
roll down my sleeves and rest my hand on your arm,
morning light, and its quiet, the birds are barely waking,
your squeaks and groans & my laughter are the only sounds in the making
all day not a word, our stories never told
you keep my secrets treasures of gray and gold
do you think of me when i'm not around?
firm and solid, your legs heavy to the ground
its my turn, legs soft and able, place to travel so far from home
you have no choice, cant call you a man
i take a while,
gettting up is hard to do.
my mind is stuck, but ive made it up
its no longer resting on you.
our time was well spent
and we both know we will meet again.
its tough
i know
even
though
you,
my
friend
are
a
chair.

You live in terror of not being misunderstood.

its two fucking in the morning.
you'd think i'd be doing something other then expressing my thoughts to a computer. so what, its objective. i need to ramble.

i need to know: the reason of life, the response to love and the answer to happiness. or reverse all that and it'll question the same. is it god? is it existing? is it food?

so i came up with a conclusion that there is no conclusion.
here it is and if this was not written, i would tell you to cover your ears.

#3 to all those indie rockers who use to be emo/scene who use to be gothic who used to listen to britney, you are just the same as those jonas brother lovers and hollister wearing kids. why we do we strive to non-conform, to be different? there is no use. when you decide to non-conform and stick it to the man you are conforming to non-conforming and conforming makes you non-conforming that makes you love the man. there is no way out. and what do you do...nothing absolutely nothing. just do what you feel like and you'll be happier. in a sense.

#2 after miles of research and meters of observing i realize that love is a placebo. kinda like if there was no god, we would need to invent him thingy. its the idea that its there. we need it to strive. if we wanted we could rename love and call it poop. i poop you, i love you,makes no difference. its the meaning behind the word. and truly, i truly believe, like hands down believe; that outer beauty has nothing to do with it, well at least for me. i know that is like what tons of platonic seeming people say but if you move me, make me think differently and change me for the better, and 'poop' me, you got me. i had two people in mind, and i tried to imagine growing old with each of them and im sorry to say, but mr. six pack you lost. i think the best time to fall in love would be when i'm 70 and can barely see (and breathe for that matter), most of the people i know will be gone and he wont have to be brad and in no way in hell would i be angelina, so what does it matter. our first date can be sharing prune juice and taking a walker down the beach.

#1 when i think of happiness i imagine myself last new years, nipping cold in a dress, outside in a lawn chair on the balcony porch in the back, watching the cars go by like moving stars in the distance and playing my harmonica as the old year flew by with a tick of the clock.
am i ________ because ... :
stupid- i stopped at alg.2,
cruel- i eat meat,
vain- i wear make up,
poor - i dont shop at urban,
lame- i dont drive,
immature- i dance and sing at random times,
bad- i dont have a filter,
good- i am nice,
mean- i dont like that person,
young- i am seventeen,
smart- i take two a.p. classes,
fake- i won,
idiotic- dont have stories that have a point,
annoying- i talk to much,
typical- like dances,
abnormal- i believe abstinence is key,
old- im not nine anymore.

YES AND NO.
SO HAPPINESS? I DO NOT KNOW.
but the most profound truth can come from not knowing it.

i'm not going to re-read that up there because if i do im going to delete it, so if it sounds like im on crack,
oh well.

and for the heck of it, some kurt vonnegut.
sometimes im a sin-wat in a pool-pah.