And I dream of you always

2005-02-09T13:41:00.000-06:00

You're The Poisonwood Bible!

by Barbara Kingsolver

Deeply rooted in a religious background, you have since become both
isolated and schizophrenic. You were naively sure that your actions would help people,
but of course they were resistant to your message and ultimately disaster ensued. Since
you can see so many sides of the same issue, you are both wise beyond your years and
tied to worthless perspectives. If you were a type of waffle, it would be
Belgian.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

As we poke Alaina!

2005-02-01T22:53:00.000-06:00

Yes...I am in a skirt!

2005-02-01T22:51:00.000-06:00

It makes me sad.

2005-01-31T01:12:00.000-06:00

Lately I have noticed a strong corilation between rape/sexual assult and eating disorders. I do not wonder why this is. I know why this is; however, it makes me sad. it makes me sad that people hurt people like that. it makes me sad that sometimes people disregard human life so flippantly. And it makes me sad that we continue to let them hurt us through self imposed starvation.
I desire the strength to stand up and be who I am. Despite what has been DONE TO ME. Beyond my control...I cannot let myself be defined by such things anymore...I am more than a victim. I am more than you knew i could be. (if I let myself)

a sunrise from the plane

2005-01-30T23:00:00.000-06:00

heads are hidden to protect the innocent

2005-01-30T22:58:00.000-06:00

hmm, the boys figure it out

2005-01-30T22:57:00.000-06:00

Are there really words? "andrew sandwich"

2005-01-30T22:56:00.000-06:00

2005-01-30T14:52:00.000-06:00

A picture story of lunch today! James was feeling artistic...And he created this with silver wear from the bean. We had to go around and collect it from people and eventually he used 80 pieces. :)

2005-01-29T18:50:00.000-06:00

I find myself addicted, and I keep coming back;
to you.
Perhaps you hold the answers within your hands,
and you can tell me the meaning
of this.
and your outstretched arms are wide enough
to hold me
close (enough).
to wrap me in, your sorrows
mixed with mine.
somehow elevating both

2005-01-29T16:22:00.000-06:00

Last night I had a most wonderful dream.

I was in Oxford with Alaina. When we first arrived I tried to buy apple juice with American Money. Anyways, we bought plane tickets to Germany (for $40). The plane was crazy. It took off like a helocopter but it wasnt. So upon ariving in Germany, Alaina promptly found her german boy...that she met who knows how! And they hung out the whole time. It was cute :) Then we had to go back. He was sad :(.

Then.i woke up.

I wish I looked like this all of the time

2005-01-28T13:34:00.000-06:00

Poim (as an old lady would say.)

2005-01-27T22:45:00.000-06:00

Sadly, I did not get my nap. On a possitive note, I quit my job. My mom had been "fretting" about it for the past week (and no she did not use the word fretting; I thought it added colour.)

Since this is mostly for Alaina...I think it will start using British spellings. But some e.e cummings for your enjoyment.

since feeling is first (VII)
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis

i like my body when it is with your (VII)
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the
trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-
crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

Untitled
Mr e.
e.
cum,
mings, (you say)
Now matters of
life and flowers.
(Brawny men with
tawny skin.
glisten-
ing. Under golden
Sun, dance.
Cum now; And
D a n c e
with me. Under
moonlight and Shadows
Intermingle.
light, we,
dark.
A hidden dance
life
begins anew

I attempted to write in the style of e.e. cummings. I promise I didnt mean for it to be so overtly sexual.

Good night sweet prince

2005-01-27T14:40:00.000-06:00

It is cold and rainy. Yet another dreary day...in my heart.

Haha I am being so melodramatic. Really honestly...I am not normally like this. The stress is getting to me, and I think that perhaps I should quit my job, and allow myself more time. I feel like I owe my parents something though by working. I am not exactly sure.

I think I'll take a nap.

It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes.

2005-01-27T02:51:00.000-06:00

I miss the part of me that Leigha is. The part of me that didn't need anything. Or really want anything. The part of me that was free of human bonds...affection and desire. The part of me that was hidden behind projected issues, food. Because we both know that wasnt the real thing. Outlet. Reality was too heavy for my light body...and too real. And now the part of me that allows all of me to escape...is gone. And sometimes I mourn her.

Mostly perhaps I hate being attached to this world, through hunger or denial of it. I hate that I am watching my friends die. (and even more that they might be watching me.) I hate that my heart hurts...and not romantically. I hate that I could die hunched over some toilet somewhere. What a way to be remembered. But isnt that all I am, to myself at least.

What am I to you?

12:35 am another melancholy day

2005-01-27T01:24:00.000-06:00

I have come to realize that perhaps I am this melodramatic girl. (as if 19 years can warrant any real understand of the way in which the world works.) I would like to believe that yes it does. And yes I know things. I am only fooling myself; how can I understand things outside of myself when I don't understand myself at all. I hardly know what I want...what I like. And I surely do not know what God is telling me right now. Except perhaps, Jenni! Get some sleep. Or relax...it will work out. You don't need to try and do everything.
Last night I went to Andrew's. We talked about my silly perturbation, perhaps idealistic embellishment of who you are. Slowly letting my mind morph you into who I want you to be (for my sake.) And that, sir, is no good. Getting back to my point, I was at Andrew's and his roommate allowed me a chance to hear him sing. (fantastically great!) I wish desperately that I could write like that...or write something with a semblance of meaning and "worth" However I did come up with this unfinished thing...

She said we've compromised ourselves too much
for these crazy dreams of yours.
She said we've lost too much
to these passing years.
and I don't know who I am
without you anymore.
And I don't want to know
if you cant stop my tears
Anymore.

I am her.

poetry for Alaina

2005-01-24T23:08:00.000-06:00

There's a hidden message in my letters,
veiled by opaque words

of sweet friendship.
hopeless dreams of perhaps
and I promised I'd never tell you
because I cannot tell myself

----------------

God, Look at me.
And deem me worthy
of continued loveand life
and happiness.
God, look at me.
into all the pain
internalized
through all the years
of suffering
at the hands of your
children. And my friends.
God, look at me
and rescue me from
myself.

----------------

I thought

I saw you on campus

walking to class,

in the rain

with your books tucked

neatly under your arm.

Half running, half walking

hurrying to get out of the cold.

I saw you in the cafeteria

laughing at your own jokes

standing with your friends

and your new girl friend (she is pretty)

your arm around her waist

holding your mail.

But it seems as though

so many people look like you,

sound like you, remind me

of you when it really isn't

you at all.

I think that means I still

miss you, perhaps I always will.

and I'll see you in someone else

again but maybe this time

you'll be at walmart.

2005-01-19T00:16:00.000-06:00

I am merely doing this for Alaina. So that I can leave a well intended comment for her. Perhaps if she asks nicely i will post a poem here and there. :) more to follow?