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Cara Rara

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to; a girl [09 Dec 2005|12:53am]
[ mood | enthralled ]
[ music | bloc party ]

i wrote her this poem;

Eyes color schemes
outlined in blue and brown
and pitted green

a scent of butterflies
wooven glances keep out stare
swear attraction underlies
timid, lighted eyes

understatements breathes so faint
dancing on high beams of lit attics
you paint fire brilliance

daring to be dilligent
vocalize thoughts to kill time
of colorful minds

as eyes necessity, travel
inquiring greens and blues and browns,
eyes of color must see
go, go quiet please

;yes, i've taken many of a fatal falls to capture slipping breathes for a girl, and i've made tripping a habit
...i want it to end,
how do i regain my balance?

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photo [09 Dec 2005|12:33am]
[ mood | creative ]
[ music | jewel; spirit ^_____^ ]

i took this picpic a few weeks ago, perhaps
i still have yet to develop photos from the pentax k1000
xD; *excited*


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hands [09 Dec 2005|12:18am]
[ mood | artistic ]
[ music | Ludwig van Beethoven; Symphony No. 9 (Scherzo) ]

a drawing i drew for ex-art class and literary magazine's phantasmagoria;


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i liked the hand sketches
it reminds me of jewel's song on her spirit album, hands
...we are god's hands
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sunny-eyed billy boy [09 Dec 2005|12:02am]
[ mood | nostalgic ]
[ music | marching bands of manhatten ]

I wrote Billy this eagerly anticipated poem one night and handed it to him, reluctantly, today;

Shine my sunlight
on a hazy-skied noon time
you're a sunny-eyed boy,
cautious in sight

the days are almost done
memories failed to have lost, that
you're a sunny-eyed boy,
traveling fast

plain-sighted, to-day is high-strung
more so the night, perhaps overrun
dear, glimpse away at lives to come,
for what else could it take for this sunny-eyed boy to enjoy,
his boyhood is young

;i hope he enjoys ^____^

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en clase [05 Dec 2005|01:08pm]
[ mood | working ]
[ music | click-click ]

I am in class at the moment watching time tick by on these metal, time-killers. They are all so professional and deadly. I can't stand the bussiness-look of it all. The walls are yellow and white, yellow and white. With metal fold-out chairs that stack away easily and hide in the secret rooms hidden by the Gibney Gymnasium. Through the Trophy Room and secluded enough for a rave, even 10hours and no one could find us. Or perhaps a quiet afternoon of tea and Langston Hughes. Oh, yes, here in the computer labratory we happen to be researching our chosen 1920s topics. I've chosen J. Langston. He's a new kind of brilliant to me. I'm very pleased to be researching two brilliant literary minds that I have vervor for in both English and U.S. History. I cou-- Mr. Peronace alert. Let's go!

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blah [28 Nov 2005|03:11pm]
[ mood | exhausted ]
[ music | On the phone with An :P ]

Today was, rephrase, is Monday. I'm not too too interested in working, homework wise. I drew through most of my classes, ignoring Crockett's lecture, as well as contributed to intellectual class discussions pertaining to religion, deer hunting, among other things. I am mentally drained and physically exhausted and feel apart from my professors.


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nueva [27 Nov 2005|05:25pm]
[ mood | sick ]
[ music | searching for david's heart ]

Have you seen the new BDF [Bobs Discount Furnitures] commercials? I'd like to make a Thanksgiving Day special mockery of them.
The moment I assumed the company could not further themselves down the commercial ladder, the company remarkably proved my assumptions false. This newest commercial features Bob and his supposed wife as clay, Celebrity Death Match-style figures. And the real stomache-turner, Bob's body is a turkey. A clay turkey! So... Turklay, basically. Ah, *sigh* I think I've fallen in love

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