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Below are the 7 most recent journal entries.

	2005.10.10  16.56 In case you didn't know...I've moved. http://www.livejournal.com/users/amouraveugle Check it.

	2005.02.28  20.54 This Is The End, Beautiful Friend Friends Only, Bitches Comment to be added Mood: artistic Music: The End - The Doors...Sexgodliness...

	2005.02.19  15.49 RIP "Arthur Miller, in his autobiography, "Timebends," quoted the great physicist Hans Bethe as saying, "Well, I come down in the morning and I take up a pencil and I try to think. ..." It's a notion that appears to have gone the way of the rotary phone. Americans not only seem to be doing less serious thinking lately, they seem to have less and less tolerance for those who spend their time wrestling with important and complex matters. If you can't say it in 30 seconds, you have to move on. God made man and the godless evolutionists are on the run. Donald Trump ("You're fired!") and Paris Hilton ("That's hot!") are cultural icons. Ignorance is in. The nation is at war and its appetite for torture may be undermining the very essence of the American character, but the public at large seems much more interested in what Martha will do when she gets out of prison and what Jacko will do if he has to go in. Mr. Miller's death last week meant more than the loss of an outstanding playwright. It was the loss of a great public thinker who believed strongly, as Archibald MacLeish had written, that the essence of America - its greatness - was in its promises. Mr. Miller knew what ignorance and fear and the madness of crowds, especially when exploited by sinister leadership, could do to those promises. His greatest concerns, as Charles Isherwood wrote in Saturday's Times, "were with the moral corruption brought on by bending one's ideals to society's dictates, buying into the values of a group when they conflict with the voice of personal conscience." The individual, in Mr. Miller's view, had an abiding moral responsibility for his or her own behavior, and for the behavior of society as a whole. He said that while writing "The Crucible," "The longer I worked the more certain I felt that as improbable as it might seem, there were moments when an individual conscience was all that could keep a world from falling." For the United States, which launched a misguided, pre-emptive war in Iraq, is shipping prisoners off to foreign countries to be tortured and has pressed the rewind button on matters of social progress, this may be one of those moments. Reading Miller again, and looking back on his life, it's interesting to see some of the differences he has spotlighted in two sharply defined eras: the Depression-wracked 1930's and the prosperous, postwar 1950's. "It was not that people were more altruistic," he wrote in "Timebends," "but that a point arrived - perhaps around 1936 - when for the first time unpolitical people began thinking of common action as a way out of their impossible conditions. Out of dire necessity came the surge of mass trade unionism and the federal government's first systematic relief programs, the resurgent farm cooperative movement, the TVA and other public projects that put people to work and brought electricity to vast new areas, repaired and built new bridges and aqueducts, carried out vast reforestation projects, funded student loans and research into the country's folk history - its songs and tales collected and published for the first time - and this burst of imaginative action created the sense of a government that for all its blunders and waste was on the side of the people." By the early 50's the agony of the Depression was gone. McCarthyism was in flower and the dean of Mr. Miller's alma mater, the University of Michigan, was complaining that his students' highest goal was to fit in with corporate America rather than separating truth from falsehood. The dean, Erich Walter, said, "They become experts at grade-getting, but there's less hanging round the lamppost now, no more chewing the fat," or, as Mr. Miller put it, "speculating about the wrongs of the world and ideal solutions, something no employer was interested in, and might even suspect." Mr. Miller understood early that keeping the population entertained was becoming the paramount imperative of the U.S. We're now all but buried in entertainment and the republic is running amok. Mr. Miller is gone, and if we're not wise enough to pay attention, his uncomfortable truths will die with him. (He felt, among other things, that most men and women knew "little or nothing" about the forces manipulating their lives.) Anyway, the Grammys were last night and Michael Jackson's trial resumes today. Arthur Miller? Broadway dimmed its lights Friday night. His country may decide that's enough of a tribute and it's time to move on." Mood: cynical

	2004.11.26  20.42 Sunrise doesn't last all morning, A cloudburst doesn't last all day Seems my love is up and has left you with no warning But it's not always going to be this grey All things must pass, all things must pass away.

	2004.08.18  00.01 Fucks In Trucks I stood there that night, looking at him, looking at her, wondering if he ever looked at me that way. I'm sure he did, with stars in his eyes, love buried within those pockets. I found myself thinking of countless evenings spent atop his roof, shivering as a crisp, early spring breeze mussed up our hair, the heavens looming above. Those evenings felt like ours and ours alone, moments unspoken to not a soul. And a tiny flame of jealousy and of betrayal festered within me as I imagined myself replaced with her... He was a good man. He just wasn't the right man. I wish I could have seen that before I hurt him the way I did...before I ripped his heart out, spat upon it, and then laughed it off, laying all the blame upon him. I strayed because he could not, would not let past lovers stay in the past. I strayed because he was jealous, because he was overbearing, argumentative, judgemental, arrogant even. I lay the blame upon him. I cheated because HE made me. I did it because HE was at fault. I now see that my former philosophy was the farthest thing from the truth. I cannot say why I nearly shared a bed with another. I wish I could explain that animalistic, uncontrolable fit of lust that clouded my mind and poisoned my heart, and even as I sit here, nearly 6 months later, I am unable to describe my reasoning. I suppose it was beyond reason. A hole had formed within me, growing larger and more vapid each and every day. I blamed this emptiness on him and stupidly, I sought another to fill it. Funny how that worked out. Mood: guilty

	2004.05.30  23.33 You Belong Among The Wildflowers... Summer is staring me down, just out of reach. I see it, I smell it, and yet my arms are not quite long enough to grab ahold and bring it back to me. It seems that as I grow older, summer means more and more to me. Last year was three months of amazing growth and I anticipate what this June, July, and August hold in store for me. I am ready for...well, for anything, really. Though there is a small part of me that never wants sophomore year to end...a part of me that will always hold onto the memories and relationships that have come out of this year. I suppose things won't be drastically different, though I know they shall never be the same. That's not to say they won't be better next year... But I have more pressing issues to worry about...like turning 16. God, I'm getting old. P.S. Any song suggestions para mi fiesta? Oh fuck it, it isn't like anyone reads this shit anyways... Mood: nostalgic Music: Wildflowers - Tom Petty

	2004.04.20  16.57 I'd Like To See You Undone All I have of you is that crumpled picture of the three of us that I stashed out of sight in a dresser drawer. I understand now that things will never be the same...I am here and you are still there. Do you even remember the day at the zoo, when the sun beat down on us and we so innocently wrestled on the lawn? Do you remember how are parents teased us how cute we were together and that someday we would marry? Do you remember how I was convinced that you had a crush on me...and how my suspicions were not so far-fetched? Do you remember that night in the backyard when our paths crossed some eight years later...and you pretended you didn't know my name? Do you remember ignoring me? And then sitting with me on the porch swing, not saying all of those things that should have been said? And then I came back...and this time you really didn't recognize me. I was no longer the gawky, awkward little girl that you once knew with the oversized overalls and mud streaked face. I blossomed over the years...the braces came off, the glasses were replaced, and my figure hinted at my impending womanhood. I waltzed into that crowded kitchen, bubbling with familiar faces, and our eyes met. That was my night to pretend I didn't know who you were. But I couldn't ignore you forever...I wouldn't want us to make the same mistake twice. You agonized over asking me...your struggle was painfully obvious as I gazed into those emerald eyes. And you finally invited me to sit beside you, to dine with you, to feast upon our old jokes, and sip the wine of our past. The hours past, our meal so eagerly consumed, and you saw me. You saw the giggly little girl that I once was...and always will be. And I discovered you had not changed all that drastically, either. Sure, you grew into your ears and you now towered over me. But that smile, full of mischief yet laced with such compassion, was the same grin that beamed from the face of the spunky six-year old boy that chased and teased me on that hazy summer day. You've once again graced my life with your presence, but that leads me to wonder...were you ever really gone? Mood: nostalgic Music: Ruby Soho - Rancid