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I know that you would be happier with her. You've known her longer. Your tastes are similar. We have to force it. I lie to you.I break promises. I just...I feel like I can't talk to you. And I see your eyes light up when she's around or when you talk about her. When you hang out, you return with all these stories and things you did together. Things I wish we did together, but you won't. Every time we go out, I feel like a wet blanket. I'm just holding you back. Please, be with her. Achieve your actual potential. In a life full of selfishness, letting you go will be my one selfless act.
Just be my friend. Call me every few months and talk about getting coffee to catch up. But make sure plans fall through. Make sure you treat me as the world does. Disposable. Replaceable. Forgettable. A stepping stone towards what you wanted all along. Just...pretend to be my friend.
I'll be okay. I'll find someone else to latch on to. Someone else to hold back and be their wet blanket. And I'll lie to them and suck everything out of them until they find someone they actually have fun with and I'll let them go too. And the cycle will go on and on and I will have achieved my ultimate goal. I can't be everything for someone, but I can be their stepping stone. I can be what they thought they needed. A well intended mistake. And I'll be selfish and take what I want from them until they leave. And I'll be left as the empty husk I was all along. A photo album full of empty memories. Just all the fake pictures they put in frames to sell them. A life full of fake friends and empty smiles...

I cry my lovely tears like droplets of orange sap in the setting sun.

The sun was orange today and everything was sepia toned. It was beautiful. Things have been like that lately. The sunsets, anyway. The other day it was pink and before that a soft, soft orange. But today's was a deep, rustic, orange, almost brown. I went outside to enjoy it and I saw the pine tree standing proud and tall like a sentiant in our yard. I realized that I don't give it the appreciation it deserves. It's one of my favorite, if not the most favorite, things about this house. There's trees everywhere! They cover up the entire face of the house. So, to show that I loved it and that I appreciate everything it does for this family, I hugged it. I stood there in the deep color of the setting sun, letting the sappy tears of a happy tree fall into my hair and on my hands and clothes.

And then Malcolm came outside and asked me what I was doing. And as he saw me holding that tree so close to me and we were so happy together, he called me a tree hugger and threatend to cut down the tree. And I realized that I'm a dieing bread. There aren't many Jasmines left in the world. I'm blessed enough to know a few and part of me wants to know them better. And then there's another part who would rather stand on the outside and look in and vaugly watch what all the Jasmines of the world are doing. I see them hugging trees and standing in wide-eyed wonderment at the smallest details of humanity and I like to think that I understand them. That that's all I need to say I know them. But, they're Jasmines and that's only a fraction of their personality. There's so much more to them that I will never know and I content myself to saying I would rather look at what makes us the same than what makes us different. I choose to look at non-Jasmines for the differences. It's better to find a likeness in a non-Jasmine than in a Jasmine. It's more surprising, and I do so love surprises.

I like to ride the bus and find people like and not like me. It makes me happy. I don't like to talk with them, I like to watch them. I watch how they interact with the people they're sitting with and the bus driver and I like to see where they get off and make up stories about where they're going. Sometimes I listen, but it's always less exciting when I do. The other day a couple sat next to me. The man loved the woman very much, more than she loved him. The way he looked at her with all the deep adoration a soul could muster, as if to say that a word from her--a glance, a smile--would mean more than all the gold and jewels in the world, made my day. I thought of it all throughout my Downtown Adventure and things seemed better. The sun a little brighter, the air a little fresher, the grass a little sweeter. The world is a bitter place and I like to see that there are still thsoe that love with every fiber. It's one thing to do it yourself or to personally know and see those you know fall in love, and it's another to see complete strangers in love. To see them sitting on the bus together and discussing the events the day may bring. I love them for loving. I love the human race for loving. To be one of the few animals in the world that can look at another and love. To want to be with another for a reason other than mating and furthering the species. That is how love can existit.

For those who don't believe, look around you! Love is everywhere all the time! Brothers love thier sisters and bees love the flowers and the Jasmine loves the trees and their lovely, sappy tears that drip orange in the sepia sunset. The artist loves the world around for all the beautiful things that stand out in the ugliness and depravity. And the poet loves to say the words to make the air sparkle with magic and make life worth living, even when you have to fall prey to the Coorperate Suck-Waesles. And the Musician loves to sing the words of the poet. And the Jasmine loves to cry the tears of the poet and musician and artisit and dreamer and lovers and fighters and all the people of the world. The Jasmine loves all the special little things about humanity that make it impossible to hate it. "Always love! Hate will get you everytime!"

I want to grok as many people as I possibly can. Grokking is the most amazing feeling in the world. I want all the Water Brothers I can handle, because it's a wonderful feeling to know that there's someone out there you can tell absolutely anything and everything to and they'll still love and accept you for it. To have someone you can share all your fears, joys, and sorrows with. To know that there's people out there that aren't Jasmines who will still understand you and you'll understand them, but they'll still surprise you in everything they do. To know the worst of their anger and still love them. Grokking is loving at it's deepest and purest. I want to grok. I want to drink deep of them and know every inch of them! To grok every inch of just one person, let alone many, would be a truely wonderful thing. And their thoughts and feeling will be all I need to sustain me. Their tears of joy shall be the sweetest water, those of sorrow the most bitter, and when they love, I shall love too.

So, I've discovered what my big problem with chain letters is. It's not what they're asking, really. I don't mind the world knowing that I like somebody, because that's what they're usually about, it's the consciquiences of I don't. Listen, there's only one person here that runs my life and decides how shitty it's going to be, and that's me. The Gods can throw what ever sort of mess they want at me, I can still choose to be an optimist and see the glass half-full. I could be plauged with Coyote medicine and it wouldn't matter, because I know how to deal with that sort of thing. You could say that Coyote has a certain attatchment to my family--he's no staranger. Anyway!

I'm tired of all these thigns telling me that if I don't forward it, then I'm going to have no love live for a bazillion years and I'll never have sex ever again! Okay, first off, I can live without sex. It actually isn't that bad. Second off, I'm a girl, and one that's not too shabby looking. If I truely wanted to and tried even a little bit, I could find somebody willing. And if that fails? Well, there's always prostitution...
And a love life? Well, seeing as I've already learned how to be compleatly happy with myself as a single entity and can live just fine as a Hermit, I don't see how this is much of a problem. We got the sex thing covered and if I truely felt I needed to fufill my humanly duty and have a kid, there's these magic little institutions called Sperm Banks where I can go and choose the genes I want my kid to have. And then I wouldn't have to deal with any of that relationship business. Ah, who am I kidding? I like the relationship business. Not the point, though. There are ways around not haveing a love life. Next point!

What's with all these "a super ugly ghost girl that was murdered by her Prom King, jerk-a** boyfriend will coe to your window and kill your whole family" letters? Are you kidding me? If I was a ghost, I'd be so offended! Like I have time to track that letter through cyber-space and kill people who aren't doing it. Do you know the amount of energy that would take?! Seeing as ghosts can't even really materialize on this plan anyway, I can't see how they could kill you. Maybe drive you crazy enough to jump off a bridge, but that could take a long time and there's a lot of people to take care of. Plus, who's to say that they won't just Commit themselves and end up tied to a bed in a padded room? How are they going to find a bridge then? plus, I know how to deal with those supernatural things, so there.

Who has time enough to think these up anyway? Get. A. Hobby. Go bird watching or something! There's no need to waste your time comign up with these thigns, because you're only feeding the gullibility of society and annoying people like me. As much as I love writing these rants about it (hey, don't judge. I can't sleep and at least I'm thinking, right?) I would rather just not see it at all. there really is no reason. I'm sure that the ghosts can find people to haunt just fine on their own and Cupid has been shooting and looking over people by choice alone for centuries! Just because you needed a way to explain your emo-ness.
"I didn't pass that chain letter and the girl I like won't date me! *cries*" Alright, grow a pair and then go talk to her. Sensitive is alright, but there should only be one woman in the relationship (unless it's lesbians, but that's a compleatly different story...). Chicks like confidence, plain and simple. Get some confidence, establish a relationship, and then see how things go from there.

Just because you needed a way to explain your psychosis without admiting it.
Dude, you're still crazy with or without the chain letter. If you're seeing people tryign to kill you and you're the only one seeing it, chances are you're hallucinating. Either get off the drugs, or get on some. Lipitor is your friend.

In conclusion: keep your sorry excuses to yourself, go see a psychitrist, and take up bird watching.

I love it how when you question the world around you, actually ******** think! people think that your closed minded and unable to appreciate things. I love it! I just ******** love it!

Pardon me for nto accepting things blindly like the rest of the cattle, but I like a little bit on mental stimulation, thank you very much. What's more, when I develope an opinion about something and it doesn't fit with your own, that makes me bad. Because I defend my opinion and try to get other people to do the same with theirs, I'm argueing and unable to accept that those are their opinions. I'm sorry for trying to get you to think!

So I question art. So I have a definition for it. I now what makes art and what doesn't for myself. So that automatically means that I'm not open to new ideas and base things purely off my own preferances. New flash! I don't like Impressionism! It's still art, though. It fufills all the requirements to my definition. I love modern art! Surrealism is one of my favorites! Why? IT MAKES ME THINK!! Big surprise; I like something because it makes me think.

Open your eyes, Gaia. God forbid that somebody look at anime and not immediately love it. God forbid somebody look at the art world crtically, because that's reserved simply for well-to-do snots in gallerys. What, an artist can't look at the art around them and form an opinion? I don't even draw! I'm a photographer! I still understand color and form and shape and all that jazz, I just don't put paint to canvas so well. I still create art. What's so bad about thinking anyway?

*Here ends this rant. Man, I needed to get that off my chest. And there was limited cussing! Woot!*

"What is love?"

Inevitably, everyone contemplates this at one point or another. What is it? It is a willingness to do anything for somebody of which ever gender you are phyisically attracted to? Does it know gender at all? Is it trusting a person so completly that there's no question that they will be beside you when you need them? What is love?

Love is hate. Hate and love are so close in the very nature of each emotion that it's almost impossible to tell the differance. But that's not true. There's a very big differeance between hate and love. Each are the opposite sides of the same coin, but the tails side can be turned to heads in less than a second. You can love something so much one minute and the next hate it with the same amount of passion. When we--humans--reach the more passionate emotions in the spectrum, it becomes harder to control them. It's very easy to control happy, but not esstatic.

In order to hate something, you need to understand it. So, it's only natural that you should have to understand something in order to love it. You need to see it from every angle and perspective and under every light that there is and still love it in order to truely love it. You must grok it. Grok means "to drink." You must drink this, take it into your body and cherish every moment of it--you must grok. Only when grokking is achieved can you say that you love (or hate) something with "every fiber of your being."

I look and see
All the lonely people
And I wonder how
I ever got so lucky.
I'm full and bursting at the seams!
With a pumping fierce as
Hell's own flames
My heart sings a happy tune!
Except for when I look and see
That you're really not beside me...
See the world through
A delightful pink haze.
Nothing's quite so sharp,
But every deatail is seen.
And I'm just as happy as could be!
This pink haze makes everything
As beautiful as I feel.
Except for when I turn and smile,
And there's no one there but me...
If I bottled all my tears,
I'd surely fill the ocean!
A pain so crisp it's all I ever feel,
And all I'll ever need.
This sadist in me
Knows it to be
Just another fantascy.
One where when I turn
And see naught but open air
Still lets me smile,
Knowing your not all there.

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Falling.
Down
Down
Down.
.
.
.
Catch me if you can!

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Sacrifice.
I'd give everything for you.
For all of you!
I give
You take,
A never ending cycle.
I break myself in two
And yet you cry for more!
What more can I give?
What more do I have to offer?
You've taken all from me,
Of which I gave willingly,
And yet you know no mercy.
Till every drop of heart,
Every ounce of spirit,
Everything I have to offer
Is gone,
You will not rest.
You push onto me this guilt!
I have so much to give
And so many to give it to,
And yet you think yourself so important.
Why should I give so much to you
And keep nothing for myself?
I give everything to you,
Your soul consumed by gluttony,
And still I give you more.
The limits almost up.
Soon will end my sacrifice.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~++~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Meh. They're not my best, btu I needed to dump all this mess from my brain. Thanks for reading, kids!

Halt! This is a restricted area. We have orders not to let anything out.

Yeah, that's pretty much what it feels like. I have a Day-Dream Day where I wander around in a daze and everything is beautiful. And what happens then? I can't write! I had a moment where I found snow--snow, for crying out loud!--to be the most fascinating, wonderful, joyus thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. Even the cold felt nice. And then I can't even find the right words to do it justice.

It was so frustrating in photography that day, because nothing was working for me. I knew exactly what I wanted, but nobody could give it to me. Why can't people just look a little more mysterious? Deep even. I could go for deep. All the people in that class are terrible modles. There's some gorgeous people, just radient, but they suck! At least for me they do. All the poses i dream up can't work because their eyes are 3 dimensional--at best. Give me a deepthless soul and I'll give you a masterpiece. That's all I want, really. I'm doing portraits (which I don't really like) and I can't find a single face that speaks to me. Out of many that I can chose from, not a one. How sad is that? I think I need a bigger pool to draw from...

I went to the Art Museum today. They just built a new wing, and it's one of the most amazing pieces of modern architexture I've ever seen. Here's just a taste of what it's like: In the whole places (not counting the art pieces, just the building its self) there's maybe 3 rights angles. I love it! I love the art museum! Some of the tings, though I just don't get. There was this one piece, and all it was was these metal circles with digitized numbers in it that would count up or down from 9 at different speeds. I don't get that. Modern artists are weird. You've got the ones who make thigns that really speak and have strong messages and thne you've got others that don't say anything. Like a statue of a cartoon broom sweeping crumpled paper into a dustpan....
There was this one that I feel in love with! 3 polyester figures--one red, one black, and one white. The red one was of a business man who had one cloven hoove. The black was of a monk, and the white was a skeleton wearing a doctor's coat. I loved it! It reminded me of DragonLance and I did a "Happy Dance" Here, sonce my words don't do justice. I found some pictures. ^_^



Wow, this one got a little off-topic, didn't it?

Often times, people don't really understand something until they've looked at it from different perspectives, and so...This is my gift to you! I have nothing that I can really give you that would be enough for me, except for, well....me!