New Blog.

http://emblematiccliches.blogspot.com

It's pretty sweet.

check it out (:

Asteriod B-612

If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him.

To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend.

And if I were to forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer intrested in anything but figures.

The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place

The only thing that ever really gives us any genuine satisfaction is caring for other people.

It doesn't matter how popular we are or anything.

The only thing that actually makes life more fullfilling is our love for others.

When I help you, I'm realling helping myself- saying yes to humanity and to the connection that exists amoung all people.

And the results speak for themselves.

Effort at Speech Between Two People

Speak to me. Take my hand. What are you now?
I will tell you all. I will conceal nothing.
When I was three, a little child read a story about a rabbit
who died, in the story, and I crawled under a chair :
a pink rabbit : it was my birthday, and a candle
burnt a sore spot on my finger, and I was told to be happy.

Oh, grow to know me. I am not happy. I will be open:
Now I am thinking of white sails against a sky like music,
like glad horns blowing, and birds tilting, and an arm about me.
There is one I loved, who wanted to live, sailing.

Speak to me. Take my hand. What are you know?
When I was nine, I was fruitily sentimental,
fuild : and my widowed aunt played Chopin,
and I bent my head on the painted woodwork, and wept.
I want now to be close to you. I would
link the minutes of my days close, somehow, to your days.

I am not happy. I will be open.
I have liked lamps in evening corners, and quiet poems.
There has been fear in my life. Sometimes I speculate
On what a tragedy his life was, really.

Take my hand. Fist my mind in your hand. What are you now?
When I was fourteen, I had dreams of suicide,
and I stood at a steep window, at sunset, hoping toward death
if the lifht had not melted clouds and plains to beauty,
if the light had not transformed that day, I would have leapt.
I am unhappy. I am lonely. Speak to me.

I will be open. I think he never loved me:
he loved the bright beaches, the little lips of foam
that ride small waves, he loved the veer of gulls:
he said with a gay mouth: I love you. Grow to know me.

What are you now? If we could touch one another,
if these our separate entities could come to grips,
clenched like a Chinese puzzle . . . yesturday
I stood in a croweded street that was live with people,
and no one spoke a word, and the morning shone.
Everyone silent, moving . . . Take my hand. Speak to me.

-- Muriel Rukeyser

Insomnia

in·som·ni·a [(in-som-nee-uh)]
–noun
inability to obtain sufficient sleep, esp. when chronic; difficulty in falling or staying asleep; sleeplessness.

it is how my sister and i are feeling right now.

thank you, #2 dipoloma.

Fuck Your Frienemy

The Word of The Day is: [drumroll please]

Frienemy (noun) :

A frienemy is a person, who is your friend but also an enemy. It is a word between love and hate.

"I have a lot of frienemies in my school."

Mic Testing: One, Two, Three...

Info Porn:

More useless crap stored in your memory bank inside your useless brain.