Word Vomit.

thinking
thinking
of something
of anything
The pain in my back
the music playing
my hpone beside me
pen in hand
moving acrosse my fingers
twirling
twirling
vibrations, my phone
i wish
nothing
fan circulating
humid air
windows open
sweat pools
pen slips
it falls
palms sweating
thinking
getting nowhere
morning comes
and i've got nothing
just sweat

Saraswati.

I saw my Uncle Dave today for the first time in years. He's Hare Krishna and the gift he gave me is the best gift I received. It's a green statue of Saraswati, the goddess of Knowledge and Wisdom. He told me that students in India keep a stutue of her in their dorm rooms to guide them in their studies. Also the students will go to her shrine before exams and write things on the wall of the temple, things like "Help us on our tests." I thought it was amazing. I'm going to take her to college with me. Maybe she'll help me.

--संस्कृत--
या कुंदेंदु तुषारहार धवला, या शुभ्र वस्त्रावृता या वीणावर दण्डमंडितकरा, या श्वेतपद्मासना
या ब्रह्माच्युतशंकरप्रभ्रृतिभिर्देवै: सदा वन्दिता सा मां पातु सरस्वती भगवती नि:शेष जाड्यापहा
हिंदी अनुवाद:
जो कुंद फूल, चंद्रमा और वर्फ के हार के समान श्वेत हैं, जो शुभ्र वस्त्र धारण करती हैं
जिनके हाथ, श्रेष्ठ वीणा से सुशोभित हैं, जो श्वेत कमल पर आसन ग्रहण करती हैं
ब्रह्मा, विष्णु और महेश आदिदेव, जिनकी सदैव स्तुति करते हैं
हे माँ भगवती सरस्वती, आप मेरी सारी (मानसिक) जड़ता को हर कर, मेरा पालन करें

Yaa Kundendu tushaara haaradhavalaa, Yaa shubhravastraavritha
Yaa veenavara dandamanditakara, Yaa shwetha padmaasana
Yaa brahmaachyutha shankara prabhutibhir Devaisadaa Vanditha
Saa Maam Paatu Saraswatee Bhagavatee Nihshesha jaadyaapahaa

English Translation:

"May Goddess Saraswati, who is fair like the jasmine-colored moon, and whose pure white garland is like frosty dew drops; who is adorned in radiant white attire, on whose beautiful arm rests the veena, and whose throne is a white lotus; who is surrounded and respected by the Gods, protect me. May you fully remove my lethargy, sluggishness, and ignorance."

The Green Fairy at 3am.

Last night, when I couldn't sleep, I was looking through a book that a friend of mine gave me, "Classic Posters of the Belle Epoque." I came across a few for Absinthe and decided to do my own based off of the style. Here's what happened....

We're still out at 10 in the evening.

A new day, hoping for sleep, but sleep isn't coming. Sleep won't come. It will continue to taunt me. It will dangle dreams on a string in front of me. I'll run after it and never get any closer. My fingertips reach out to touch it and like smoke it passes through my fingertips. I want a cigarette.

We're in the house, looking at the dark.

I didn't sleep last night. I knew I wasn't going to sleep. I could feel it before I even thought of going to sleep. There was this feeling, this little voice in the back of my head saying "Nope, not going to happen, not tonight. Have fun tomorrow because tonight will be hell." It was, it was awful. I closed my laptop, turned off my lights crawled into bed and nothing. I closed my eyes, counted sheep, laid down different ways, but nothing happened. I was wide awake only not. I wanted sleep but my body wouldn't let me have it, or maybe it was my mind. I would come so very close, I could feel myself sinking into it and then as I was falling asleep I'd be wrenched from it and be left awake. That feeling of being so close to sleep and then having it taken away from you was awful. I would look at my clock and see that what I thought was two or three hours was just a few minutes. So, I unplugged my clock, it was mocking me. I would drift into states of semi-sleep. I'd be awake but wouldn't really be thinking of anything. Then my mother woke me up and I knew it was morning, I knew I hadn't fallen asleep. I hope for better luck tonight.

Then we did believe in magic and we did die.

My attempts at writing result in failure. It all turns into something childish and ignorant. There is no maturity, no insight Just the shallow thoughts of an uninspired girl who tries to force words out of her cheap ballpoint pen. What insightful thoughts are written down are cliche and overused, an imitation Hallmark card. it's pathetic. I flounder in my words and drown in shitty descriptions. The beauty I try to create strangles me and cuts the blood flow to my hand causing me to drop my pen in pain. Punishment for writing down such shit. I re-read what I wrote and i hate myself for writing it. It's forced, it's painful, it's awful. I want to rip it apart and burn it. I want to cut off my hands so I can never write again. I want, I want, I want. FUCK! I cannot write. Maybe I can learn, maybe someone can help me put my thoughts and feelings to paper, maybe. Until then I'll continue to hate myself and everything I write, but I'll keep writing. I'll keep doing the one thing that is slowly destroying me and I'll embrace the destruction.

Rewind.

Having a new blog is strange. I've had these before but I stopped using them. Most likely because I forgot the passwords. I'm trying to look for them now.

OH! I've found one of them
"This is a battle, a war"
Reading things from this blog make me sick. Maybe they'll make you less sick.....
I feel incredibly disconnected from all my friends...maybe it's just me, I dunno. Freshmen year there was that whole awkward new friendship phase thing. Sophomore year we all got a lot closer, and some got farther. And this year, this year it's like some sort of uneasy limbo between the two. I would love to say "Yeah her and I are really tight!" But I don't feel tight with anything. I feel like I'm holding on by threads to everything. Like at the slightest movement the thread will snap and everything will go flying away (picture balloons being carried into the sky). I think it's inevitable though...I get the feeling that no matter what by the end of this year everything will be gone for some reason, maybe even before the end of the year. No matter how hard I try to hold on to everything it will all just float away. I hate that feeling, of not being in control of things that I should have some amount of control over. There's nothing I can do though.

Oh yeah if you go in Outdoor world next time your in the mall go to the fish tank (which I had no clue was there) and look for the fish we named, Hubert, Killer, Spot, and the Cheetah Girls! Yeah last night was pretty awesome!! It began with Chicken potato and ended with smoothies and me choking on mine and I can't remember what was said and why it was so funny but it was hilarious!! Oh Oh ! And Mall Cops on Segways!

That's enough from that blog. I think I had another one..., but I can't find it. It's probably better that way.

Today was interesting, Day two of the rebuilding process. I woke up and went to work on my room again. Only this time I began to rearrange things. A few hours into it I noticed that I piled everything up in front of my door. It was terrifying. No one was home and I couldn't get out of my room. I had to sit down for a moment. I just stared at my door thinking "How could I not notice that I was putting everything against it?" Then I really started to think about it. I was trapped by my own things. Things I bought, was given, etc. It was all piled up. It scared me. I got up off of my floor and began to move everything to another wall. It amazes me how I sometimes don't notice things like that.

Rebuilding.

Waking up today was different than other days. Usually I'm dragged from my sleep because my parents yelling my name or my obscenely loud alarm. Today there was no yelling, no alarm. It was just me opening my eyes to the realization that I need change. Not that one thing specifically needs to change like my hair or nail polish color, but that everything in my life needs change. It was terrifyingly exhilarating. I climbed out of bed and began pulling, dragging everything and anything out of my room. Tearing posters off the walls, throwing my clothes out. Whatever my hands could grab was taken out of my room. I'm still not finished. While I was pulling everything out I made a list in my mind of what I want to accomplish by the end of the summer. I also thought about who I am at this moment in time. I'm going to write it all down so when the summer ends I can read it and see if anything has changed. But i can't right it now. Even as I'm typing this I'm taking everything off of my computer. Everything. I'm putting it all on CD. I want it clean and free of anything from and point before now. Except my music. The music stays. This is all; exhilarating, a catharsis. I love it. I want to revel in this feeling of complete freedom and transformation. I want to ingest it and inject it into my veins. I want it to swallow me whole and I want it to fill me up so I vomit it. I want it.

I've finished cleaning my computer. I'm going to finish my room.