This...

I cannot actually find the words to describe it... so I will lay it out straight.

My journal has been breached.

Not just breached, but... violated.

The people who know me.
Knew me.
Will one day know me and know me better.
Know that the one thing you never.
Ever.
mutherfucking EVER.
mess with is my mind.

Don't touch it.

You can break me. It's ( Read more... )

You know it's been so long since you've been in marching band that you've forgotten how much you hated football when you're watching The Music Man and all you can comment on is how awesome their corners are. For the record... I hated playing piccolo, but the power for evil in that tiny instrument was overwhelming ( Read more... )

we wound ourselves with little knives ( Read more... )

I don't know why, but I have lived in music my entire life. Both of my parents sing, all the time, in the car, in the kitchen, everywhere. All three of us, the children/offspring/spawn sing as well. Loudly. Sometimes off-key, although since all of us also can read music and have played with an ensemble, that happens rarely. But I wake to music, I ( Read more... )

Today I had my first last class of the semester, Human Rights. The topic was sexual minorities and their rights... and I still don't get it. I argued readily for the rights of gays and lesbians. I was careful to cite biological examples outside of the human species to support my attitudes (such as dominance homosexuality, spontaneous reproductive ( Read more... )

I had a conversation with my Aunt lately, about the invasion of privacy that both Facebook and Livejournal represent. Being an intensely private person, I sympathized with her reluctance to join Facebook until very recently. The thing most people don't realize, I think, about such venues for self-expression, is just how easy it is to turn something ( Read more... )

It might come as a surprise to people that know me, personally, I mean, but I do enjoy the occasional chick flick. The only problem with that is sometimes there are a few loopholes required to get yourself out of a reputation for being, well... a girl.

1. The Princess Bride is not now, never has been and will never be a chick flick. Ever. Period.
2 ( Read more... )

I must be insane.

That can be the only answer.

Tonight the wind howls around the apartment like some angry river. The front-room is too cold to sit in while I type, and so I have retired to my room. I find myself wishing that the phone will ring, that someone will read my mood and wish to share this wild night with me. To go out stargazing as the ( Read more... )

I didn't expect it. it came on so suddenly, like black ice on the highway. All I could do... suck in a breath and hold the wet warmth of tears against my eyes. They quivered in my sight, like tin soldiers set up on a cardboard drawbridge.  I will not be weak. To feel is to be less. To regret, to envy, that is to be an unmaking ( Read more... )

Why wear it? Or rather, I suppose, why do I wear it so often? I do not align myself with the Goth culture (not being a person who fancies invading Rome, for one thing), nor do I wear it to make myself look tough or mysterious or any of those things. I just like wearing black. It works well together, and it makes me feel comfortable. I think it is ( Read more... )