Blurty for Sarah.

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Wednesday, February 16th, 2005

Subject:state of the cranium
Time:10:20 pm.
Music:biffy clyro:.:questions and answers.
because i'm fascinated with psychology...and a self-defined histrionic.

Personality Disorder Test Results
Paranoid |||||||||||| 46%
Schizoid |||||||||||||||||| 74%
Schizotypal |||||||||||||||||| 74%
Antisocial |||||| 30%
Borderline |||||||||||||||| 70%
Histrionic |||||||||| 34%
Narcissistic |||||||||| 38%
Avoidant |||||||||| 38%
Dependent |||||||||| 34%
Obsessive-Compulsive |||||||||||| 42%
Take Free Personality Disorder Test
personality tests by

more info on my supposed afflictions
Schizoid Personality Disorder - individual generally detached from social relationships, and shows a narrow range of emotional expression in various social settings.
Schizotypal Personality Disorder - individual is uncomfortable in close relationships, has thought or perceptual distortions, and peculiarities of behavior.
Borderline Personality Disorder - individual shows a generalized pattern of instability in interpersonal relationships, self-image, and observable emotions, and significant impulsiveness.


I am a bit of a snob when it comes to my artistic tastes.


I am easily frightened.


I am patient with people who annoy me.


I am ready to act on the spot.


My close relationships are the most important thing in life.


I am easily annoyed.

Take Free Percentile Test

crazy? you decide.
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.

Saturday, February 5th, 2005

Time:12:39 pm.
Music:papa roach:.:scars.
apologies for the overwrought, melodramatic entry below. i just decided to vent to an audience instead of my private journal...or just holding it all in as usual. but it could be worse...perks be dammed, it helps keep things in perspective that children are starving in africa and my troubling concerns are a label , my weakness in regards to certain sharp objects, and my severe common sense deficiency. it could all be so much worse, so i guess i should be grateful?
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Time:11:18 am.
Mood: discontent.
Music:ryan adams:.:where the stars go blue.
what a day. i sort of blurted out what i didn't quite mean to yet, in keeping with my usual pattern of brooding like crazy and then letting it out at the wrong time. i've been thinking for a few days about my decision to go "straight-edge" about a year ago. it seemed like the right choice at the time; i definitely needed to feel like i belonged to something at that point. i just don't know if i want to keep the label, part of it seems pointless to me. i don't intend to drink or smoke or do drugs or anything like that, but i can't be sure that i'll always equate a glass of wine with some sort of evil, self-destructive force. i wholeheartedly respect those that are straight edge; that's why i'm not sure if i can keep the title for myself. i'm just not that fucking strong of a person, i guess. it was just a bad day - too many xacto knives. in school, in the art room, at acmoore, everywhere. i thought i was over even thinking this shit. guess i was wrong about that, too.

"there are times when i should try to be so much more alive...i live in a hiding place / it's the only way i feel safe / when i'm safe in a hiding place / you're so full of facts / but nothing that could add up to words" - idlewild live in a hiding place
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Monday, January 31st, 2005

Subject:"your eyes to the ground / and the world spinning around forever"
Time:3:02 pm.
Mood: content.
Music:jeff buckley:.:l'hymne a l'amour (the love song).
bonjour. it's been a while since i've posted on here, and since i'm too fried from an ap euro exam followed by an ap art history exam to be truly coherent, i'll post some samplings of my latest obsession: jeff buckley.
in case the name is foreign to you, he's a "folk" singer whose music expands (-ed) way beyond just folk. he's a lyrical genius with an amazing multi-octave voice, preoccupied with life and death, alienation from the modern world, and questioning the norms of society. unfortunately, following the example of most talented musicians (cobain, joplin, elliott smith, hendrix, morrison, etc.), he died very young (29, if i remember correctly) a few years ago.

without any further adue...

gunshot glitter
Don't you wanna let go of your heart?
Or you resist the beds of bliss
Fortune makes fools of us all
My dear materialista, silence was insane,
the parting was mutual. //
Don't you want the rocket to rock out?
There's room for us both to fly
Tell the man I'm never coming back again
Tell the man I'm never coming back again //
Why should you notice at all?
Gone again beside you will fall
Down to the sea out of the skies
Of gold cards and casual tears
I have only come to see you shine ///

There's the moon asking to stay
Long enough for the clouds to fly me away
Well it's my time coming, I'm not afraid to die //
My fading voice sings of love, but she cries to the clicking of time,
Oh, time. Wait in the fire...
And she weeps on my arm
Walking to the bright lights in sorrow
Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow
Oh my love...
And the rain is falling and I believe my time has come
It reminds me of the pain I might leave behind... Wait in the fire
And I feel them drown my name
So easy to know and forget with this kiss
I'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow...

haven't you heard?
Your wish is my command!
Have you heard this talk about eye contact
Gonna be the downfall of this town.
First the photographs take you to the right hands.
Leads you to the authority mold. //
Paranoia will write the world prayer
Make sure that you fit in the right holes
But when you take his offer, you're done for,
Done for, Oh! //
Phantoms in pockets, we're in panic,
Making order in total disgust
Oh, they read a list of all who cannot stay
Take you down, on the ground.
(Chorus) //
Make sure you learn to beware your neighbor
Bolt the doors and hire your guards
Suck your life with their virus called language
Someone told you this all would go down.
And the last thing you see is the luster,
Hold the razor, goodbye to your friends
Would your underground please call the mayor,
Call the neighbor, call your friends.
(Chorus) //
Well, when he first saw you, you'd need no protection
I train my eyes on your mouth, you'll learn to take him.
Hmmm. It's a brand new power. //
My friends had her questions right
Beware your neighbor
Haven't you heard, haven't you heard
That we're done for. Oh.
Learn to beware your neighbor
And the right mode
Haven't you heard?
Haven't you heard,
That we're done for, done for? //
When I count down from ten
You'll feel the lead in your lids
You'll have no need to exist
And wake up refreshed
Hah! ///

first elliott, now jeff. i really need to find a lyric-genius boy that isn't dead.
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Saturday, December 25th, 2004

Time:12:02 am.
Mood: depressed.
Music:elliott smith - son of sam.
such an emotional christmas. my uncle got drunk, my aunt proceeded to yell at him, followed by my grandmother. by the end of the night, he was staring blankly like a fucking zombie. it's just disgusting, i don't understand why anyone would want to be like that. but none of that shit matters as much as the good part of the evening: meeting my new cousin, adopted from china. she's so adorable, and possibly the most well-behaved baby i've ever encountered. i guess she was raised (for a year) to believe that crying wouldn't get her any attention, therefore she just doesn't bother. i thought the video of china was fascinating; apparently i was alone in this opinion. the similarities are far more striking than the differences: tolls on a road that looks exactly like the nj turnpike, except that the signs are in mandarin, the children's toys at the kindergarden. it worries me that they're so opposed to letting her know about her culture. i'm afraid that all this "you're not different" will be taken as "being different is bad." but she's not my kid, so i suppose i don't have the right to judge. i'm so tired, but there are presents to wrap, arguments to mitigate, and the general sense of stress pervading this house, even at 12:12 am on christmas fucking eve.i
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Saturday, December 18th, 2004

Time:8:09 pm.
Music:american hi-fi:: blue day.
yes, here i am, online on a saturday night like a loser. but i've been up since 5:45 am, and i did go out with erin last night. i'm not a loser, i swear. (ha!)

i went to a speech and debate tournament today. instead of ld or congress, i tried extemporaneous speech (hereafter extemp) and loved it. i didn't do so badly either; it's ranked out of 6, 1 being the best score, and i went 3-2-3. i'm the only girl extemper on our team, so it's back to comfortable territory for me. the university of vermont (to which i was acceped, early action, YIPEE!) is seeming an increasingly likely choice, because a) it's co-ed, b) it's a little less than an hour from Montreal, c) Burlington kicks ass, d) their political science dept. is awesome, e) the possbility exists of going there for a year and then transferring to brown or wesleyan ;)

anyway, g'night all.
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Tuesday, December 14th, 2004

Time:4:40 pm.
i think i'm "over" the boy. 'twas fun while it lasted, but i definitely had a skewed perception of his...sincerity, i guess would be the right word. apologies for the lack of proper grammar. oh well.

in other news, my aunt and uncle just came home from china with their adopted daughter, michelle ann.hopefully, i'll get to see her soon. although i'm not usually so fond of babies, i think adoption is awesome and a better option than fertility drugs (and septuplets, and birth defects, etc.), so i'm being as supportive as possible.

i went to the museum of modern art on friday, after my botched interview at barnard. MoMA was simply amazing. it was sensory overload: pollocks and monets and chevals and derains and da vincis and dines!!! i'll spare you the rest of my artphile raving, but if you're anywhere near new york city, go to MoMA. it's actually worth the $20 (definitely worth the $12 student price - bring your ID).

the book we're reading for english - the handmaid's tale by margret atwood - is by far my favourite school reading assignment. i'm far too tired to offer intelligent commentary, other than to say it's a dystopian (one of my favourite words to begin with) novel that raises questons of feminism, control, happiness, freedom, ideology, religion, and a menagerie of other subjects. read it.
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Monday, December 6th, 2004

Time:8:45 pm.
Music:vienna teng.
i hung out with danny at barnes today after school. we drank coffee and talked about boys, love (or lack thereof), college, and certain people that we love to pieces, but drive us crazy sometimes. 'twas a lot for a few hours. but hopefully we'll go back tomorrow, it was a good time. there are many, many times when i wish he wasn't gay :(.
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Sunday, December 5th, 2004

Time:8:43 pm.
Music:josh groban.
although i can't include all the details, here's a brief recap of my weekend in princeton.

competition:: technically, the point of going to princeton in the first place. this weekend, p-ton's campus was the site of the 2004 princeton national invitational speech & debate tournament (such brevity in naming). it's not quite a national tournament, despite the name. if my memory serves me, the furthest school came from virginia (randolph-macon academy). i think that's technically only regional since no mid-west or west-coast teams travelled to jersey. not that anyone other than nfl/cfl people would care about the distinction. moving on, alj's speech & debate team sent a few competitors in most events. i did student congress, made 3 speeches, and generally enjoyed myself in that regard. unlike my pessimistic attitude towards debate, i actually thought i did well. my scores, for the most part, reflected that perception.

plagarism? congress was great not only for the debate, but the people who were intelligent, and
friendly beyond the typical congress "schmoozing" and "decorum." one glaring exception is the parlimentarian, who accused me (only in writing, mind you) of lifting a speech from a website. he thought this because during his high school competition, HE had lifted a speech that he thought was similar to mine and passed it off as his own. given that i wrote all my speeches in the round, using at least 3 different sources for each, i'm fucking pissed as hell. i wouldn't have cared (that much) if he flat-out said i'm a terrible congressperson. i just can't stand someone questioning my integrity, especially in something for which i always work my ass off. thankfully, my coach knows i would never lift a speech from the internet and defended me against the ridiculous accusation. anyway, not to waste more pixels on this crap...

fun:: friday, i went with the other congress people and teresa to kate's chinese really late because of rounds that ran until 9:30ish, and fell asleep right after. saturday night, i ate some good japanese food with the congress/ld people @ ichiban. later, i went to see quipfire (princeton's improv comedy troupe) with teresa, tim, and jon.

after that, i can't reveal the details, other than to say that the princeton university students i encountered are drunken fools, and i'm almost glad that i can't get in there. i saw the greatest minds of my generation...killing mass amounts of brain cells.
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Sunday, November 28th, 2004

Time:10:23 pm.
Mood: numb.
Music:elliott smith..i figured you out (live@irving).
between reading the spin article on elliott smith and researching drug legalization for congress, i found this interesting piece on some random blog. i'm not entirely sure if this is an authentic stream-of-consciousness work or an especially elaborate piece of government propaganda from the "war on drugs."

look under "words of a habitual user," jan.6

***note: i'm not condoning drug use, i'm just interested in some twisted way by this particular writing***

some quotes...
Following the trend toward groups named after opiates--Codeine, Laudanum, Morphine, Opium Den--let's say I put together an alternative rock band. Oxycodone and Hydrocodone are okay, I guess, but this band is loud and fast so we call it Dilaudid. If we really bit the big one, a likely outcome, I'd shift the name to Demerol, a synthetic opiate 60 times less potent than Dilaudid. If we rocked the rafters, though, I'd rename the group Oxymorphone. If Oxymorphone became an overnight, arena-filling sensation like Nirvana did, I guess we'd have to switch the name to Etorphine. Synthetic dope 10,000 times stronger than morphine, etorphine's only apparent use outside the laboratory is in darts to stun elephants and hippos for capture.
Finally, please, a moment of awed silence for that holiest of narcotic grails: the Brompton's Cocktail, a made-to-order elixir named for the fun-loving London hospice where it was first concocted. A typical cocktail decanted for the dying at a nursing home in England in the mid-'70s reportedly comprised "heroin, cocaine, gin and phenothiazine, a tranquilizer, all mixed in with a chloroform-water base." Death, where is thy sting?

Enter heroin. Enter speedballs. On the street, coke is girl, heroin is boy. A hetero match made in heaven. Heroin. The blue-plate special in the chemical cafeteria. At age 7, I got a picture book for Christmas, A Child's Glimpse of New York. I knew even then that I wanted to worm my way into the Big Apple's hard core. In the fullness of time, I succeeded. In my mid-teens, reading William Burroughs and the other Beats, I knew I wanted to be a junkie. Terminally hip. Coolly self-contained. Beyond the law. Beyond caring. Stoned, listening repeatedly to Lou Reed's "Heroin," I wanted to be Jesus' son, rushing on my run. In the fullness of time, I succeeded. I guess that I just didn't know.
"Opium is profane and quantitative like money. The more junk you use the less you have and the more you have the more you use. Junk is the ideal product.... No sales talk necessary. The client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. The junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to his product."--William Burroughs, "a word to the wise guy" intro to Naked Lunch, 1959

If prostitution is the oldest profession, prehistoric hookers and hustlers may well have been working those caves to feed a jones for opium. Human consumption of the sap of the oriental poppy, Papaver somniferum, has been traced as far back as the 6th millennium B.C. Written references to what Homer called nepenthe, the "potent destroyer of grief," date to the 3rd century B.C. Only in 1803, though, did a German pharmacist isolate from opium gum its most potent alkaloid. Morphine, he aptly named the stuff, after Morpheus, the Greek god of dreams. In dynamic duo with the hypodermic syringe, contrived in mid-century, morphine proved an infinitely more effective analgesic than laudanum, the 10% tincture of opium widely used until then. (Widely used is something of an understatement; in mid-19th century England, opium consumption averaged three pounds per person per annum.) Morphine was infinitely more addictive than laudanum, too, as America learned in the Civil War's wake, its boarding houses jammed with jonesing vets suffering the "army disease" of addiction.
In 1898, yet another German pharmacologist repeated earlier experiments treating morphine with acetic acid. Willkommen, diacetylmorphine! Bayer & Co. marketed the novel semisynthetic opiate as a cough suppressant, dubbing it heroin--from heroisch, "powerful" in German. Those Kraut chemists! Morphine. Heroin. Amphetamines. Methadone. Only when they dreamed up Zyklon B death gas, does the family of nations finally stage an intervention. From goose-stepping to twelve-stepping: "We admitted that we were powerless over Poland...."

Nor are narcotics--from narkosis, Greek for "benumbed"--necessarily all about nodding. A shot of dope, not too little, not too much, et voila: the Mighty Morphine Power Ranger, imbued with the strength to do what needs to be done. Say what you will about dope fiends, don't say we don't work hard. Keeping that moody monkey in chow is fulltime work, ripping and running, whether you're boosting hockables from department stores or writing feature stories. Before my monkey became King Kong, but well after weekend and then evening use had inexorably evolved into a relentless morning-noon-and-night routine, I stuck fast to a hard rule: no savings for smack. Over several years, I cranked out freelance like a fanatic to pay the dopeman. Covering the 1992 political conventions, I zestfully slaved 14 hours a day, zipped on junk. (We all know now what put the tiger in my tank that hot August in Houston. What in the name of his judgmental God most merciless was Pat Buchanan hitting? Adrenal glands harvested from Haitian immigrants?)
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Time:6:01 pm.
Mood: depressed.
Music:elliott smith.
i should be doing research for student congress, packing for my overnight at bryn mawr, working on college apps, reading for euro, etc. am i? of course not. i don't feel like doing anything, except maybe drinking too much coffee. i wish it would be possible to drop out of society for a few weeks, just owe nothing for a while.
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Tuesday, November 23rd, 2004

Time:10:35 pm.
Music:josh groban.
<< stupid girly gushing >> the sumerian-eyed boy looked so adorable today, curled up against the wall in euro. and in english, concentrating on hamlet. possibly he was concentrating on his shoes, or the pictures, but i'll keep my illusion that he was enthralled by the language. we were talking about famous anarchists could i not be drawn to a guy who knows kropotkin and goldman and saint-simon??? << /gushing >>

i somehow invented the thought that we were going to have a psych test today. thus, i woke up at 3 am (unintentionally) to study various theories of conditioning and higher-order learning. and i told a few people in our class that we had a psych test today, needlessly sending them into semi-panic mode.

all apologies, for the gushing.
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Time:4:52 pm.
Music:dead kennedys :: life sentence.
You scored as Sloth.















Seven deadly sins
created with
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Sunday, November 21st, 2004

Time:10:50 pm.
Mood: hyper.
Music:vienna teng // relient k // bowling for soup.
i spent today in nyc with teresa and had an awesome time. the stated purpose of the trip was to take pictures for my independent study art class (yet another reason why independent study kicks ass...), but of course it ended up as a hybrid photography/shopping/eating/college visiting trip. i bought a $10 knit hat with coffee-colored stripes in a hippie store near barnard/columbia colleges. of course, mum told me i looked "ghetto" when i came home wearing it. *sigh* t and i also found a stupendous book store on broadway - the political science section was arranged by each particular philosophy!!! a section for marxism, one for alternate theories of communism, one for socialism, one for anarchism (i'm inclined to contest its placement among political philosophy, but certain transgressions must be overlooked in pursuit of the greater good...haha), one for liberalism, one for conservatism --- 'twas bibliophiliac heaven! teresa had to literally drag me out of there. we took some awesome pictures of an unidentified church (amsterdam and w111th, i believe) and it's rose window for the art history dorks out there. i swear, ap art history makes nyc all the more enjoyable; engaged and detached columns of all types and capital styles, window details, carved friezes...i could go on. the architecture is orgasmic....lmao. back to slightly less passion-inducing subjects, we had lunch at ollie's noodle house (broadway and 112?3?th), down the street from barnard. i had a huge bowl of veggie soup & a veggie spring roll...yum (and it was only $7). after lunch, we walked around the barnard and columbia campuses and i'm definitely applying to barnard now. i had forgotten how much i liked the tiny self-contained boxes & courtyards. besides, columbia has a more traditional campus, so i'd have that option for escape. not that i have much of a chance at getting in to barnard. *sigh*, again.

i'm so fucking hyper right now...this needs to happen more often.
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Saturday, November 20th, 2004

Time:7:05 pm.
as much as i've disliked papa roach in the past, i give them credit for writing this song.

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut
My weakness is that I care too much
And my scars remind me that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel

I'm Drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
I'm pissed 'cause you came around
Why don't you just go home?
'Cause I channeled all your pain
And I can't help you fix yourself
You're making me insane
All I can say is...

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut
And my weakness is that I care too much
And our scars remind us that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel

I tried to help you once
Against my own advice
I saw you going down
But you never realized
That you're drowning in the water
So I offered you my hand
Compassion's in my nature
Tonight is our last stand


I'm drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
You shoulda' never come around
Why don't you just go home?
'Cause you're drowning in the water
And I tried to grab your hand
I left my heart open
But you didn't understand
But you didn't understand

Go fix yourself

I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life
I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life

[Chorus x2]
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Wednesday, November 17th, 2004

Time:11:21 pm.
Music:orgy:. blue monday.
haven't heard this song in a while, but it got stuck in my head a while ago....

the sumerian wasn't in today :[

on the bright side, i have all As so far, except for math. of course, the lanky pedagogue wouldn't give me the .5 points i needed to get an A. honestly, i really couldn't care less, because it's senior year. even if i only make it as far as new brunswick, at least it's not clarkkk.

when not fulfilling my current orgy obsession (lol), crass and conflict have been gracing my stereo quite frequently. i scared the cat before with "force or service," played at maximum volume on the 8-speaker stereo...oops. all my apologies to neil young.
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Tuesday, November 16th, 2004

Time:9:29 pm.
Music:HIM:. soul on fire.
what a crazy week or so...
thursday - finally, the issues with my university of vermont application were resolved. the guidance secretary came back from vacation (yay!!!), so my transcript has been sent to burlington. hopefully, uvm won't reject me because the transcript and ACT scores will be late. i doubt i'll get into the honors college, but oh well.
friday - finished my debate cases before midnight, for the first time ever.
saturday - woke up for the tournament, and couldn't get out of bed because my stomach hurt. really bad. so i stayed home, unwillingly listening to at the drive-in on repeat for 2 hours because of the aforementioned condition.
sunday - went to church (dragged at 7am, mind you), did homework, nothing special.
monday - stood in the cold rain for forty minutes due to a malfunctioning fire alarm at school. such fun.
tuesday - HIM concert!!! it was fucking amazing. irving plaza is a great venue to start with, although it took me way too long to find it. i dragged poor jess and kenny all around the east village before i finally asked for directions. i can be such a...guy sometimes. lol. maybe this is what josh hated so much....haha
wednesday - today, i paid for the fun i had last night. no, i wasn't hungover (sXe, dammit), i had "rock neck." i don't know if this is a unique phenomenon, but after "moshing" at concerts i almost always have a stiff neck the next day. today was no exception; i went home at 9:30 because i couldn't stand it anymore. then i proceeded to sleep from 10-4:30 without even moving. and now, because uvermont is no longer a safety due to my lateness, i'm grudingly applying to rutgers because i need another safety. not due to any logical reason of course, but to appease my worrisome, doubtful self.
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Sunday, November 14th, 2004

Subject:so this is what it would have taken for kerry to win?
Time:10:09 pm.
Music:dead kennedys:. too drunk to fuck.
Step Three: Taking on the Army

Eventually the riots will spiral out of control and the police will no longer be able to handle the enraged masses. Once governors around the country realize this is the case they will begin mobilizing elements of the National Guard. Luckily, most of our military is over in Iraq right now. Remember that? It's what your stupid ass is supposed to be protesting. Regardless, their absence here creates an opportunity for a successful confrontation with the US military that would not exist otherwise.

Some tips for facing off against military forces:
Start supporting the second amendment, because all of our liberal gun control talk is about to take a big ironic shit in our mouth.
Try exposing yourself to radiation to become some sort of super mutant, because there is no way in hell you're going to be able to face off against a trained and equipped soldier otherwise.
Chant impotently at any soldiers you see, something catchy like "No war for oil" or "we need a pitcher, not a belly itcher".
Remember that soldiers are not human beings, they are actually robotic killing machines controlled by the fascist oligarchy of George W. Bush.

At some point outright rioting will cease to become a realistic option. The troops will be using things like bullets and missiles and liberal weapons like offensive rap lyrics, pornography, and flag burning will no longer be effective. That means it's time to form some militia units to engage the regular army forces in deadly combat. Militia units like:

The 101st Airborne Bong Tokers out of Berkeley
The 27th K.D. Lang Concert Audience Assault Brigade
1st Armored Division "Jon Stewart"
735th Recumbent Bicycle Cavalry
201st No to Nukes Light Infantry
6th Give Peace a Chance "Or Else" Division
82nd MoveOn Dot Ordinance Supply Battalion
The 4th Mississippi Irregulars "Martin Luther King, Jr." Division
1st Nantucket Schooner & Pleasure Yacht Fleet
9th Olympic Synchronized Landing Marine Division
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!
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Friday, November 12th, 2004

Time:5:59 pm.
i need warmer, non-leather sneakers.
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Tuesday, November 9th, 2004

Subject:the time it takes to let go....
Time:12:10 am.
Mood: relieved.
Music:thursday:. steps ascending.
such a mixed-up day. woke up tired and depressed, dealt with it in a less than ideal way, felt better after talking with erin and jess, crashed again after lunch, went right home and ignored debate practice in favour of taking a nap and listening to the used's "i'm a fake" on repeat for a while. after the nap, however, some strange "second wind" took over, and i've been (happily, mind you) researching and writing for debate for the past 4 hours or so. sure, i'm ignoring my responsibilities for ap euro (studying), esl people (copying a lesson, writing a thank you note for pat), and art club (writing a newspaper article). but i'm enjoying it, and i'm certainly feeling much better than i have for most of the day. so it's "all good," i hope.
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Blurty for Sarah.

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