again?
oo i forgot to mention that i watched one tree hill last nigth and gavin degraw was on it and he is glorious.
truly glorious.
do i exaggerate sometimes? because i really dont like to.
i need to fix my journal, it looks like shit. i've recruited too many people.
if you want to read this its kinda bad.
my english final project...
Caroline Hummer
1/21/04
Period 3
Mixed Narrative
I wonder how many times I can repeat the same action without getting the same result.
ﻥ
it’s too far
haunting
i remember the feel
of the sand crabs under my feet
as we just stood in the surf
1 o’clock that morning
barely speaking
just feeling
everything being dragged out with the seaweed
into the expanse
to meet all the other hopes and dreams
in the darkest depths of the ocean
glowing and pulsing
and as you poked the anemone
i thought about this
a corner of the world
everyone’s
no one’s
sitting
waiting
a silent smile come and gone
hidden in the dark.
ﻥ
Blood Loss
When I was younger I had many fears (I still do…). I always thought that there was something in my closet or under my bed. Unlike other children, however, my monsters were not abstract creatures with tentacles. I always leaned more towards the serial-killer-in-the-closet idea. For some reason that threatened me more. The closest fear (really more of an obsession) to a “monster” that I had was that of the vampire. I still tuck my covers around my neck every night, although now it’s more of a habit. Always in the back of my mind.
ﻥ
Last Day’s Dream
Many times I look up and see everything
The world in the moon
New hope in the clouds
And letting go in the stars
ﻥ
In paths of pink she wandered, only occasionally peering over the briar wall, pretending she didn’t care.
ﻥ
When I was young I used to play on the beach. But not just any beach, my beach. We lived down at Seacliff, just a few miles down from Rincon. My “giant” play area consisted of our wooden deck, which was cluttered with various toys, and the coarse sand and pebble strip that lay before the enormous rock pile that protected our house from the angry sea. I was a fearless child, and the way I hopped along these stones would often scare passersby and my parents’ friends. But never my mom and dad, as they knew what I could handle.
ﻥ
Caroline
Poised on the rock
Ready to run
To climb into her stone castle
And be the princess
She sees in the mirror
Her smile
Easily open
And her eyes
Watching and loving
Show her age
More than her dress
Birthing light
Dreams on her hair and shoulders
Only the shadow at her feet
Reminds you of the child
A flower
Halfway hidden
Clutched as tightly as her wand
Shows the moment
Two seconds from lost
ﻥ
Without sight, I have no meaning, without meaning I have no sight.
ﻥ
Outside
The girl was absolutely petrified as she lay in bed, tears silently gathering in the troughs of her eyes, blurring her view of the ceiling above her. This was the third night in a row that her mind had drifted onto the subject, against her will. And once it grabbed her brain it wouldn’t let go, the darkness dragged her deeper into the depths of whatever was inside her. Why couldn’t she just accept it like everyone else? At 13 this girl was too young to be caught up in death. It was far too old for her, and she was barely touched by it. But whenever she let her guard down in crept back in. Rolling over she began to even out her shallow breathing as she tucked her covers tighter around her face.
ﻥ
your yellow eyes
too deep for comfort
supernaturally right
hold me
floating
out at sea
sunset
deeper
yellow waters
drifting
farther
losing grip
ﻥ
My first experience with death came with Lois. My Lois. She was like a third grandma to me, and I don’t really remember if I understood what was happening to her. I mean, I understood, and I think I realized that she was going to die, or that she could, but I didn’t take it seriously. The cancer, that is. The cancer that took her took her hope. Although I didn’t realize it until later, she was petrified of death. Maybe that’s where it came from. Subconsciously I was absorbing it. All of the feelings.
ﻥ
First Rainfall
I don’t know what I can say about that day. It wasn’t a great day. It was actually fairly mediocre for the most part. However, there were three seconds that made it amazing. Just three seconds of pure happiness. Have you ever felt it? Not expecting anything and then being hit with something so pure that it makes your whole body light up, and then it is gone again, and the moment slowly fades away, leaving you only with a giant smile on your face.
The first second came on the way to school. Looking up I saw this incredible cloud. With a literal gasp, it vanished as I went around a curve. In another minute I had it in my sight again, three perfect upside-down waves suspended from the cloud.
The next moment came at approximately 3:15. Driving the back roads from Santa Barbara to Carpinteria I, once again, came over a hill to another loss of breath. This time it was simply caused by the islands. Dark blue and olive green shades accented the unusually detailed crevices of the Channel Islands, a hue and distinction unusual for a cloudy day.
My last was simply caused by a first drop of rain on my windshield, giving me a last burst in the dark.
ﻥ
In the cold of January
She sits on the surfboard
Watching the bulging humps
Of the waves as they pass
Moving only when one threatens
To swallow her
Without reason or mercy
Grabbing at her numb feet
She slides back on the board
Avoiding the water
And waiting for the clouds
To move away from the sun
Happy to be alive.
ﻥ
Last Day of Summer
I float along the top of the water, my feet pointed towards the sky. Enjoying the feel of the sun burning my face, I let the waves carry me where they will. The sea water presses around my ears, and almost all sound is blocked out, all but the dull thump of the ocean currents, and the echo of my body’s inner workings: my throat swallowing and my heart thumping and my blood rushing. I strain to stay at the surface as the dead weight of my legs slowly pulls my whole body down. My arms stretch gracefully, unaware of the mutiny of my lower half. I open my eyes for the first time in minutes and wonder at the muted tones of the waves and sky, so far out at sea.
ﻥ
truly glorious.
do i exaggerate sometimes? because i really dont like to.
i need to fix my journal, it looks like shit. i've recruited too many people.
if you want to read this its kinda bad.
my english final project...
Caroline Hummer
1/21/04
Period 3
Mixed Narrative
I wonder how many times I can repeat the same action without getting the same result.
ﻥ
it’s too far
haunting
i remember the feel
of the sand crabs under my feet
as we just stood in the surf
1 o’clock that morning
barely speaking
just feeling
everything being dragged out with the seaweed
into the expanse
to meet all the other hopes and dreams
in the darkest depths of the ocean
glowing and pulsing
and as you poked the anemone
i thought about this
a corner of the world
everyone’s
no one’s
sitting
waiting
a silent smile come and gone
hidden in the dark.
ﻥ
Blood Loss
When I was younger I had many fears (I still do…). I always thought that there was something in my closet or under my bed. Unlike other children, however, my monsters were not abstract creatures with tentacles. I always leaned more towards the serial-killer-in-the-closet idea. For some reason that threatened me more. The closest fear (really more of an obsession) to a “monster” that I had was that of the vampire. I still tuck my covers around my neck every night, although now it’s more of a habit. Always in the back of my mind.
ﻥ
Last Day’s Dream
Many times I look up and see everything
The world in the moon
New hope in the clouds
And letting go in the stars
ﻥ
In paths of pink she wandered, only occasionally peering over the briar wall, pretending she didn’t care.
ﻥ
When I was young I used to play on the beach. But not just any beach, my beach. We lived down at Seacliff, just a few miles down from Rincon. My “giant” play area consisted of our wooden deck, which was cluttered with various toys, and the coarse sand and pebble strip that lay before the enormous rock pile that protected our house from the angry sea. I was a fearless child, and the way I hopped along these stones would often scare passersby and my parents’ friends. But never my mom and dad, as they knew what I could handle.
ﻥ
Caroline
Poised on the rock
Ready to run
To climb into her stone castle
And be the princess
She sees in the mirror
Her smile
Easily open
And her eyes
Watching and loving
Show her age
More than her dress
Birthing light
Dreams on her hair and shoulders
Only the shadow at her feet
Reminds you of the child
A flower
Halfway hidden
Clutched as tightly as her wand
Shows the moment
Two seconds from lost
ﻥ
Without sight, I have no meaning, without meaning I have no sight.
ﻥ
Outside
The girl was absolutely petrified as she lay in bed, tears silently gathering in the troughs of her eyes, blurring her view of the ceiling above her. This was the third night in a row that her mind had drifted onto the subject, against her will. And once it grabbed her brain it wouldn’t let go, the darkness dragged her deeper into the depths of whatever was inside her. Why couldn’t she just accept it like everyone else? At 13 this girl was too young to be caught up in death. It was far too old for her, and she was barely touched by it. But whenever she let her guard down in crept back in. Rolling over she began to even out her shallow breathing as she tucked her covers tighter around her face.
ﻥ
your yellow eyes
too deep for comfort
supernaturally right
hold me
floating
out at sea
sunset
deeper
yellow waters
drifting
farther
losing grip
ﻥ
My first experience with death came with Lois. My Lois. She was like a third grandma to me, and I don’t really remember if I understood what was happening to her. I mean, I understood, and I think I realized that she was going to die, or that she could, but I didn’t take it seriously. The cancer, that is. The cancer that took her took her hope. Although I didn’t realize it until later, she was petrified of death. Maybe that’s where it came from. Subconsciously I was absorbing it. All of the feelings.
ﻥ
First Rainfall
I don’t know what I can say about that day. It wasn’t a great day. It was actually fairly mediocre for the most part. However, there were three seconds that made it amazing. Just three seconds of pure happiness. Have you ever felt it? Not expecting anything and then being hit with something so pure that it makes your whole body light up, and then it is gone again, and the moment slowly fades away, leaving you only with a giant smile on your face.
The first second came on the way to school. Looking up I saw this incredible cloud. With a literal gasp, it vanished as I went around a curve. In another minute I had it in my sight again, three perfect upside-down waves suspended from the cloud.
The next moment came at approximately 3:15. Driving the back roads from Santa Barbara to Carpinteria I, once again, came over a hill to another loss of breath. This time it was simply caused by the islands. Dark blue and olive green shades accented the unusually detailed crevices of the Channel Islands, a hue and distinction unusual for a cloudy day.
My last was simply caused by a first drop of rain on my windshield, giving me a last burst in the dark.
ﻥ
In the cold of January
She sits on the surfboard
Watching the bulging humps
Of the waves as they pass
Moving only when one threatens
To swallow her
Without reason or mercy
Grabbing at her numb feet
She slides back on the board
Avoiding the water
And waiting for the clouds
To move away from the sun
Happy to be alive.
ﻥ
Last Day of Summer
I float along the top of the water, my feet pointed towards the sky. Enjoying the feel of the sun burning my face, I let the waves carry me where they will. The sea water presses around my ears, and almost all sound is blocked out, all but the dull thump of the ocean currents, and the echo of my body’s inner workings: my throat swallowing and my heart thumping and my blood rushing. I strain to stay at the surface as the dead weight of my legs slowly pulls my whole body down. My arms stretch gracefully, unaware of the mutiny of my lower half. I open my eyes for the first time in minutes and wonder at the muted tones of the waves and sky, so far out at sea.
ﻥ