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[27 Apr 2007|01:03pm] |
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a dead rabbit means "my husband knows, get out of town"
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[18 Mar 2007|07:43pm] |
If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.
If you want to be happy, practice compassion
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| the sweetest most well written thing ever |
[31 Dec 2006|09:06am] |
What she doesnt know wont kill you.
by Matt Brochu
November 21, 2003
You met her a few months ago, and somehow she managed to seep into your subconscious like that "Suga how you get so fly" song. Just like you have no clue who the hell sings it, you don't know why she's there. But she is, whether you like it or not. You know her cell phone, her room phone. You can dial her Aunt Doreen's house in West Springfield (where she goes to do her laundry every two weeks) faster than you can peck-out 911. But she doesn't know.
Her screenname, that generic one with her first name followed by three to five random numbers or UMass, has its own category at the top of your buddy list. Not only do you know what a "Buddy Alert" is, you've rigged your computer to play "Fat Guy in a Little Coat" from "Tommy Boy" every time her screen name changes from gray to black. Then her away message comes down, and you have a decision to make. To IM or not to IM? These are the ridiculous games that you play on a daily basis. But she doesn't know.
She's it. All right, so maybe not "it" it. Not necessarily Ms. Right, but closer to Ms. Right-up-there-with-Anna-Kournikova-and-Lizzie-McGuire-on-your-list-of-people-you'd-give-anything-to-be-stranded-with-on-a-broken-down-elevator. But it's about more than that. When is it ever about more than that? Never. Not like frilly white dress, overpriced catering, embarrassing drunk in-laws more, but closer to UMass sweatpants, two D.P. Dough Roni Zonies, a futon and a movie you have no interest in seeing more. But she doesn't know.
She's gorgeous, but gorgeous is an understatement. More like you're startled every time you see her because you notice something new in a "Where's Waldo" sort of way. More like you can't stop writing third grade run-on sentences because you can't remotely begin to describe something ... someone ... so inherently amazing. But you're a writer. You can describe anything. That's what you do: pictures to words, events to words, words to even better words. But nothing seems right. More like you're afraid that if you stare at her for too long, you'll prove your parents right: that yes, your face will stick that way. But you wouldn't mind.
You wouldn't mind that the questioning, "Hello?" on the other end makes you want to smile and throw up at the same time. You wouldn't mind worrying about what to get her for her birthday and spending $300 when you only have $17.50 and a Triple-A card to your name. You wouldn't mind that she left your TV on and the blaring infomercials wake you up at 4 a.m. ... because it gives you a chance to watch her sleep. You don't mind that you've slipped up twice when you were hammered and hinted at how you feel, but she was too drunk to remember. So she doesn't know.
Sure, she's pretty, but it's about more than that. You two connect. Anything you throw at her, she can throw right back. You figured out what's going on in that predictable head of hers in under five minutes, but something tells you her heart would take about five years.
You remember everything she's ever said to you, and when that freaks her out you blame it on your photographic memory (which is a lie, you have a 2.7 GPA). You can't remember your teaching assistant's name, and you can't remember that your Puffton rent check was due four days ago, yet you remember the middle name of the kid who tripped her in fifth grade and gave her that cute little scar on her shoulder. Maybe it's because you actually listen when she talks. When do you actually listen? Never. But she doesn't know.
But she has a boyfriend. The kid is a tool, and you are not. He has no redeeming qualities, and you have about 38, even when you're hung over. You could kick his butt, and you've never been in a fight in your life. He treats her like crap, and you would treat her like the princess she believed herself to be on Halloween in 1988.
But she loves him. He wouldn't know what he had even if she slapped him across the face and dumped him, but somehow she still loves him. And somehow she still doesn't know.
Then, out of nowhere, she slaps him across the face and dumps him. She comes to you. You've been there before, so you seem like the smartest guy on earth. She cries, but your corny half-joke, half-compliment somehow gets a smile out of her that almost makes you feel ashamed that you're the only one around who gets to witness it. It looks like you might make her realize that all guys don't deserve to have rocks thrown at them.
But nothing changes. She doesn't know. You get that library elevator feeling in your stomach that she'll never know. You get that feeling that you'll be forced to write a cheesy Collegian column about her that makes "Sleepless in Seattle" look like "Girls Gone Wild."
You go to sleep. You wake up. She doesn't know. You're not in love. You're not obsessed. You blame it on the fact that you just need to get some, but still, it's about more than that. It would just be nice if once in your life, things worked out the way you wanted them to.
So ___________, it's about time you know*.
Now cut this out, fill in her name, and give it to her, coward. Just let me know how it works out.
Matt Brochu is a Collegian columnist.
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[13 Nov 2006|07:51am] |
i break every promise i make to myself.
i guess thats better than breaking promises i make to other people.
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[06 Nov 2006|09:38pm] |
i just want to read, sleep, and shoot for my photography assignments. i miss the darkroom.
my ipod randomly started working again. music is the key to my heart. i'm going to san fransisco this weekend.
life is so strange.
its nice to know you don't care about me at all anymore. hell, maybe you never did. if there's one thing for sure is that you've turned into a horrible judge of character. but thanks for making me feel like a total ass.
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| heavy |
[31 Oct 2006|08:21pm] |
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i can't focus anymore. i have no idea what the hell im doing anymore. im learning more than ever, but not at the same time. i feel like im being tugged between two extremes and i dont know what the hell to do.
sometimes, i just really need to talk to someone. shit talking, im unbelievably great at, but when it comes to actually opening up to someone, i cant.
my head is in the clouds. my grades are shit. i need to apply to colleges. i need to study for sats. i have to start my college essay. seriously, my mind is about to explode.
in nine months, i will be living an sf. i really cannot wait.
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[18 Jul 2006|12:18pm] |
i really don't want to do anything anymore. i hate not actual having friends. i want to quit both my jobs and never leave my house. my stomach is in a knot. all those people. all the lies that come out of my mouth.
Hold my wine hold it in
nobodys lost
but nobody wins
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| i long for peace of mind |
[08 Jun 2006|10:18pm] |
this social anxiety crap needs to end. i spent all of work praying that no one would come in so i wouldnt have to greet them. all i have to say is two fucking sentences to them. it shouldn't be this difficult. why i can't ever let my gaurd down escapes me. what am i so afraid of?
laying in bed listening to sigur ros is good. so is walking home during those breezy summer nights listening to billie holiday.
on a brighter note, naps are wonderful.
The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera is also wonderful.
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| Romeo & Juliet |
[05 Jun 2006|07:10pm] |
If you will die for me,
I will die for you
and our graves will be like two lovers washing
their clothes together
in a laundromat
If you will bring the soap
I will bring the bleach.
-Richard Brautigan
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| White Oleander |
[01 May 2006|03:58am] |
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Don't attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you're lonely. Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space. The best you can do is know yourself... know what you want.
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| all mixed up |
[10 Apr 2006|11:49am] |
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ordering food at a chinese resteraunt in Germany is really really difficult.
its amazing how being in another continent for 10 days really puts things into perspective.
but alas i am still the same little girl that wants everything to go just right.
i miss the sound of my mothers voice. his smile is a reminder that good people still exhist in this world. i keep forgetting the day/date/time over here. i dont know why. fuck im hungry.
why am i writing this?
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| oh you |
[13 Sep 2005|07:11am] |
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i really missed wearing sweaters.
i want it to be night & i want to go out.
"i am a pilgrim at the edge
at the edge of my perceptions
we are travelers at the edge
we are always at the edge of our perceptions"
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| best song |
[26 Aug 2005|11:57pm] |
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1.ap us history
2.trig h (hate that it's honors)
3.ap biology (how i got put in there ??)
4.ap language & composition
5.journalism (ridiculously boring right now)
6.photo (love)
7.open
after the first week of school, i've decided to keep my schedule this way.
i already love my english teacher. she reminds me of mrs. spivak so much it's frightening. my journalism teacher is the most boring speaker i've ever heard in my life.
i got my phone back, its a different number though.
i really enjoy the work of sebastiao salgado, he's an amazing photojournalist.
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[14 Aug 2005|09:14pm] |
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one year.
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| i dissapoint myself haha |
[02 May 2005|05:43pm] |
i have managed the entire year not to say it, and today i did.
i used "hecka" in a sentence.
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[30 Apr 2005|05:31pm] |
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i had forgotten how much i love to swim.
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[19 Jan 2005|06:16pm] |
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Take the quiz: "What does your birth month reveal about you?"
November
Has lots of extraordinary ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinkforward. Unique. brilliant. Sharp thinking. Fine, strong clairvoyance. make good doctors. Dynamic. Secretive. Inquisitive. Know how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative. amiable. Brave. generous. Patient. Stubborn. hardhearted. Determined. Never quit. Hardly become angry unless provoked. Love to be alone. Think differently. Sharp-minded. Motivate self. Dont appreciate praises. Highspirited. Well-built, tough. Deep love, emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest. Keepsecrets. Cant control emotions. Unpredictable.
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stupidly_sweet's journal
