Archive for November 10th, 2008
conspiracy time!
Now it is time for everyone’s favorite thing ever… IT’S CONSPIRACY TIME BROTHERS!!! [i wrote this rant long ago but took it out of the dusty text file and now I am sharing my stupidity with the world, yay!]
Films: Quills/Parenthood/Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure
Actors/Characters: Joaquin Phoenix/Keanu Reeves/Napoleon Bonaparte
Keanu Reeves happened to be in a classic film I like to call Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, well I suppose that’s what everyone calls it. Anyway, Keanu goes back in time via a telephone booth and who does he happen to meet? That’s right kids, everyone’s favorite five-foot-tall French Emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte. Remember a little movie with Steve Martin called Parenthood? If you don’t just think of a funnier, more interesting version of Cheaper by the Dozen (which I have never seen but I will bet you a million dollars Parenthood is funnier, and it has a better cast.) Anyway in said film a young boy named Gary (played by Joaquin Phoenix, who at this time, in order to better fit in with his ‘nature’ named siblings, appears in the credits as Leaf Phoenix.) So Gary is a teenager who talks very little and seems somewhat mentally disturbed. We later find out he is watching strange porno tapes and so his mother (Diane Weist) has her sexually-active-teenage daughter’s live-in boyfriend Todd (Keanu Reeves) talk to young Gary. This is the initial point of corruption. The innocent younger brother of River Phoenix was corrupted and possibly sodomized. Could it possibly be that Ted of Bill and Ted and Todd of Parenthood gang raped young, fragile Leaf? Or perhaps they planted the evil acting seed within him so he would later take on a role in Quills. Everyone knows that Napoleon Bonaparte gets pissed off at the Marquis de Sade for writing such raunchy stories and sends him over to good old Leaf Phoenix, who by now has changed his name back to Joaquin. Joaquin plays a holy man who gives a nude, cut up Kate Winslit her first and final copulation, missionary style. If you’re not out renting this film right now, you don’t know what you’re missing, it makes Jesus cry tears of blood. Thanks to Napoleon and censorship of erotic novels an innocent, hot girl is dead. Geoffrey Rush plays the Marquis and writes absolute filth with his… own filth. In the end I suppose he was just a shitty writer. HAHA JUST F-ING KIDDING KIDDIES, I DO LOVE MY SMUT…
http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/blastedgoat/evil.html
this was the orignal website that my friend and i made in high school. haha i can’t believe that crap is still on the internet :]
a ragged pink bunny
[sitting in a hospital bed with a ragged pink bunny, talking out loud] Ever since I was little I slept with a stuffed rabbit. I have had Jellybean for as long as I can remember, he was a gift from my godparents. I had a zoo of stuffed creatures situated strategically around my small bed, protecting my arms and legs from any hands lurking below. It was always a bunny that slept closest to me, it was a bunny I wanted when I was sick, when I stayed the night away from home. I may be twenty-two but when I have a nightmare I always reach for my oldest friend. I used to lie in bed when I was little and think about dying. I was scared of going to hell for eternity. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine something going on for a very long time and when I thought of it never ending my little body would shudder and my heart sunk to the floor. Torturing myself night after night I thought of hell and dying and losing my mother. I said prayers to ease my fears and began to picture dying in my mother’s arms with my little brother curled up between us. We were asleep and holding each other, bathing in the glow of midnight television snow when the end of the world crashed down on our heads and our home collapsed on us, killing us instantly without pain. ]
Before & After
<html>
<head>
<title>Before&</title>
<statement>When we were young, we knew who we wanted to be.</statement>
<contradiction>We were told how to be and what to say.</contradiction>
<result>You felt punished for being different. I reveled in our strangeness…</result>
<style>then the years of bliss were over we were cast out in the freezing water to reemerge on distant shores we were fixed and could not move the world that once held all colors turned a violent shade of blue</style>
</head>
</html>
[note: & in title = ampersand which stands for "and" in html; all other tags should be self explanatory and i don't guarantee they are correct, i was just going for the effect, i am worse at writing html than writing poetry... haha]
——————————————————————————-
After–
We are cast out in freezing water and reemerge on distant shores.
A world that once held all colors turned a violent shade of blue.
Fields of massacred flowers weep with swollen allergic eyes
as forget-me-nots hide under wild burning grass…
After the earth cools it reveals the twisted bark of blackened trees.
Dead animals stair with charcoal eyes that howl in pain as they soak into soil.
I hate what I’ve become, my heart hangs from one thread
It pulsates like a rotting animal. You vomit words into my ear at 3am.
I cleanse my hands of our late night unintelligible telephone conversations.
You wash your face in the marble sink that will become your gravestone.
Epitaphs splattered in toothpaste are grim but…
crooked unsure smiles still encourage each other in the mirror.
——————————————————————————-
now ask yourself…WHICH WAY DID YOU LIKE BETTER? :] or did you like the mix?
Comments are welcome and encouraged! I scribbled this down this morning and am not sure quite where to go with it…
my mother
September 23, 2008
Perspectives in Death & Dying
Presentation
Word Count 725
My mother is dying, and we are already trying to make up for lost time. During visits we talk about how she’s feeling, mentally and physically. My mom was in a terrible car crash while under the influence of drugs. When the car collided with a telephone post her ankle was shattered and she was in and out of consciousness for several days. Six surgeries and over five years later she is permanently disabled, due to infection and poor care. She also suffers from mental illnesses ranging from clinical depression to borderline personality disorder and has not held a job in nine years. As I grew up I watched my mother’s mind and body deteriorate. She has gained weight after countless stays in psychiatric wards and rehabilitation programs, and her teeth are falling out and her face has aged tremendously as a result of prolonged Meth use. If my mother looks like she has been to hell and back, she has, but I still look at her with admiration and love because I share those scars. I have suffered along with her through her lengthy battle with drugs and alcohol.
Sometimes it’s hard to imagine that we are sitting together talking, playing with her kitty Oreo, or watching a movie I brought over. I’m glad we have a good relationship again, because when I was a teenager that wasn’t the case. Throughout my adolescence I often felt more like a mother than a daughter. My brother and I helplessly watched my mother’s life spiral down the drain. Since she couldn’t take care of us, I moved in with my Grandmother and my younger brother lived with my step-dad. Reluctantly, we became accustom to our unstable lives. Before my mother hit rock bottom she lost our home, wrecked her car, and was in and out of mental institutions. Some of the worst times I remember were while she was using Meth and we were forced to exclude her from family functions. I felt guilty when she asked me for money, I wanted to help my mother but I refused to help her habit. It is so confusing and upsetting when you can’t trust your own mother. I was forced to lie at times and sometimes the best thing I could do for her and for me was to avoid her altogether. At her worst my mom was shooting up in our bathroom and selling herself for drugs. Eventually, she became unrecognizable, an empty shell, less than the shadow of my former mother.
When I was younger and my mother was still well, we used to grow fruits and vegetables in our garden, go fishing, and cut wood to heat our two-story home. She was a good cook and never forgot a goodnight kiss, this is how I want to remember my mother. I am wiser because of my mother’s experiences, and I have begun the process of finding my own voice. I was only thirteen years old the first time my mom attempted suicide and sent us down our current path. Before her breakdown my mom never told me much about her past. She grew up in an abusive environment and was the only one home with her grandmother when she died. Her and her three sisters were put in foster care, she eventually earned her GED and had me when she was twenty-two, the age I am now. My mom has always told my brother and I that we are “the best things she ever did” but now we are the ones forced to face the consequences of her lifestyle.
The truth is that my mom will die if she doesn’t get a Liver transplant. In addition to the other conditions I already mentioned, she contracted Hepatitis through a blood transfusion after the birth of my brother, this in conjunction with alcoholism has accelerated the possibility of Liver failure. While my mother is afraid of dying from this disease, she says “the pain is worth a second chance” but in order to even be added to the Liver transplant list, she has to be completely off drugs and alcohol for two years. My biggest fear is that even if my mom can stay clean and sober for two years and get her name on the list, she may die before they reach her name. [excluded]
“I have not used any patient, family, or care giver’s actual names in this report except where I’ve received their permission to do so. I took, and will continue to take, every reasonable step to respect the privacy and dignity of the persons with whom I came in contact.”
sundays < sundaes
another long day slaving at the library. i hate when people are obviously saying “lie-berry” and you just stand there with a smirk on your face thinking to yourself “god what an idiot.” i absolutely hate people who think they know how to do my job better than i can. could i move faster? perhaps. could i go out of my way to be nice to some random person? i could. am i going to? no. why? because i get paid minimum wage. that might just be part of it though. if you are rude you won’t get too far. nice try. i mean really, i don’t come to your work and slap the dick out of your mouth, don’t fucking tell me how to do my job. if i am incompetent, trust me, it’s on purpose, bitches.
on to a new chapter. it is something i think of constantly. stupid things i did as a kid to entertain myself. i was very strange from an early age. i collected books. i loved to organize them and count them. i loved to read. i was also very morbid. i loved to ride my bike down the hills in the cemetery. my best friend Amanda and i used to steal discarded flower arrangements from the waste cans and put them on ancient baby graves. most of them weren’t marked, they were indicated by a small cross or lamb. there were so many of them in older area of the crumbling graveyard, faraway from the polished marble monuments bearing strangely familiar surnames.
oh what’s the use of recalling every single detail of life? what will it prove except time goes endlessly forward? maybe it is just something i need to do. something that will make me happy. i have loved my life. it has been my movie. my reality is different from yours. my eyes are a camera. you don’t know all they have seen, in fact you probably couldn’t guess half. all of these memories are who i am. without me, they fade away and don’t exist. i cannot bear it. if i could not remember this life, i would want no part of it. if i should ever be unsure of who i am someone please read me this entry and tell me you know who i am. even if we are strangers and have never met if you read this then you know me too. you may know me better than anyone i know. usually my words fall on deaf ears. if yours work fine then please, kindly, use your voice.
DON’T STAY QUIET NEVER. HELL NO, UPROAR!
