[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Sunday, April 18th, 2004|
i before e, except after c, and in words that say 'eh' like neighbor and weigh...that always stuck in myy head, and was the first thing i thought about when i typed that subject. How helpful second grade spelling lessons are. The second thing i thought about is what prompted me to write an entry like this in the first place.
I think my neighbor is beating his kid.
Earlier this night, i and my father were watching tv when we heard yelling coming from the next door driveway. A man's voice yelled 'Gabriel!' as if he were summonind the person of that name, and there was more yelling that was somewhat less distinct. I got up to look throught he slats in the blinds and see what was going on. There was a man in a plaid shirt who looked like one of those beer drinker couch potato types who wear undershirts and are usually cast as the abusive father in movies. He looked right at me. I scampered away to the couch, and saw my dad's face- half cocked and listening, like some sort of mammoth, bearded bird. I couldn't help but burst out in nervous gigglings, but my laughter subsided as i heard him say quite distinctly 'The neighbors heard, but i don't give a SHIT!', the last word punctuated by a fist slamming into something, whether it was person or car, i couldn't tell, but it made a loud thud. Then I heard a littlee boy talking, then the man answering, then more yells and the boy again, crying. I though perhaps it was the boy I had seen with his friends around the block, laughing and playing, with happiness and laughter in his soul. Now he was crying, and you cannot understand how much violence there was behind that yell and force behind that thud. My day was pretty much a happy one, punctuated by sleep, laughter, and the end of the dance shows for the year. This is what stuck in my mind, however, iand this is what goes in my journal.
|Saturday, April 17th, 2004|
An inventory of the injuries sustained by the author over the past few weeks:
*bruise from my hip to halfway down my thigh from twisting on a swing and having the tortured chains take cruel revenge in me by swinging me into a pole
*bruises on my shoulder and knee from shoulder/back rolls for dance that healed over spring break and were reinduced by almost constant practice every day this week
*bruises on my inner thigh from trying to hop over a waist hiegth pole and failing miserably
but this entry is not just about my own injuries, it is about everyones. Today i found out out that one of my very good friends has been slashing her arm into catscratch thin cuts. I also found out why another of my good friends parents split up- his dad had a violent temper. And by violent, i mean it was expressed through violence. The reason his mom kicked him out finally was bc she came home from work to find a, and these are his words, "a fist size bruise on my little brother's ass through his diaper." And, to top it all off, its getting near the one year suicide anniversary of my friend who shot herself in the head in the girl's bathroom at her school. No one knows why. So today is just one of those days where one can lose complete faith in the world.
From Something Wicked This Way COmes:
"The trouble with Jim was he looked at the world and could not look away. And when you never look away all your life, by the time you are 13 you have done twenty years of talking in the world's laundry.
"Will halloway, it was in him young to always look just beyond, over, or two one side. So at thirteen he had saved up only 6 years of staring."
Today I was Jim. Who knows who I'll be tomorrow?
Current Mood: morose
Current Music: Zeppelin
|Monday, April 12th, 2004|
No idea if i spelled that right. Anyway, i would basically be having nothing at all to do with online journals if not for the fact that my computer is deficient and will not allow me to access my computer diary, or allow me in any way to use microsoft word. Ironically, the other computer in the house, which is about 5 years older than this one and is about as slow as one can get without going back to the first computers, functions perfectly. So as I have some sort of psychological inability to adequetly express my thought on anything other than a computer, i must rely of this vehicle of mass expression, and become one of the millions who do nothing but complain to others who have no choice nor no want to hear anything but their complaints. Right now i am reminded of an email that i received from a friend of the same name as me, which was in reply to a person who said taht if cars were like computers, the world would be a much better place. The reply said that if cars were like computers, they would mysteriously break down twice a day but no one would question why, cars would constantly have to be revamped or replaced with newer and better ones, and the windows would always be broken. In my present state of mind this i perfect. Liz, i updated- are you proud? I am tired, so farewell, at least for now.
|Monday, April 5th, 2004|
this is a test.