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I would give every kingdom
for the release of the words that,
e’er present, hem around my tongue;
spilling occasionally in gilded drops
but all too rarely.

I would mortgage every freedom
for the ability to express these thoughts
that crowd my mind, always questing, always pressing,
never to be released.

I would make whatever bargain
for the cessation of this flow
of words, unexpressed, shimmering at the
edge of consciousness,
yet denied to me.


To Mother (2007):

Why is it

That when you call, I stiffen

Blood boiling

Spoiling for a fight

My mood turns wroth

My stare, baleful

You badger

Trying to have a connection

Can’t you see?

I have severed it

That part of my life




You are a remnant

Why can you not move?

Move on! Move beyond!

Instead, you drag me down

Into your pit of suffering

You tell me of my life

You can’t see

that you are not in it?


you not move on?

You counsel me

To seek counsel

You think of me

But you see you


Heal thyself.



A newer work:

Untitled (2009):

It’s been



myriad tearful nights

frightful cycles

acceptance vying with


I’ve hurt others


people I care about.

So many mistakes and missteps

I can’t go through


being so unsure


Now I find myself


by the same old fear and


I hope I’m not judged too harshly based on this corpus of work, Jurion. It does represent some years of development.

The sky is so beautiful this time of year. I want to run under trees fresh-turn’d and play in the leaves; feeling the presence of the God ebb, only to return just as strong when the Earth blooms again. However, there are no trees to play under here, and that is a travesty. I don’t have to deal with snow, so I guess that’s the trade off.

Went on a date tonight with a nice boy. Discussed my ex, am now morose. Damn you, Boy! Damn you!

Oh my. I just had lunch with the cutest boy that I have possibly ever met. I mean, it’s heinous how attractive this boy is. Delicious. We got coffee afterward and talked for two hours. Well, I talked a lot. He was rather quiet. But, I think it went well. Lord, I’m excited.

But, there’s one thing. He’s 17. I’m 20. I know it’s legal and whatnot, but I still feel kind of weird. A senior in high school? Hmm. Regardless, he is just too damn hot to believe. Expect updates, internet.

Good God.  I don’t even know what path led me to where I am now.  I’m not much for introspection, and trying gives me a migraine.  I have so much angst it’s just absurd.  I thought that was the purvey of the high-school sophomore, that quintessinal sop who get’s his (or her, ladies) heart broken for the first time by the rugged senior on the football team after they make passionate love…sorry, diverting into fantasy there.

What I was trying to say before my eminently queer subconcious interrupted was that college was supposed to be a time beyond this petty crap.  I mean, look at the obscenities that I’ve used.  This has shaken me, hard.  What I can’t figure out is why.

He’s betrayed me.  I should be able to get over it and move on.  Instead, I’m crying like a c-list heroine in a lifetime movie over the abusive husband that left her, but she still loved him.  It’s just a heinous lack of control that I can’t seem to forgive myself for.

This has never happened to me before, internet.  I don’t know if I mentioned that in my previous post, but I believe that dear Prince was the only one who read it, and I’m sure he’ll forvige me if I repeat.  I’ve never had my heart broken.  I’ve only been the heartbreaker.  But my heart hasn’t really been broken.  More like it’s been rent into pieces, dashed on the slimy sidewalk and spat upon.  Melodrama yes but it’s still the emotion that I feel.  I don’t understand why, though.  I don’t feel emotions like this.  It’s not how I operate.  Anger is my shield, but I can’t seem to activate it.  I’m an android, or a Southern Man, if you’d rather: We don’t cry.  We don’t do this emoting bullshit.  It’s unbecoming and weak.

Yet, I have carried on so for the past two weeks.  Two weeks yesterday, I realized.  Life certainly goes on without us noticing, doesn’t it?  It feels like it happened yesterday.

Also, in the middle of all this, enter a sweet, well-meaning boy who gave me a shoulder to cry on that I used too much.  Now I don’t even know what the fuck to do there.  We carried on for a week much like we had a relationship, and honestly I just used him as a boyfriend substitute.  Problem is, I don’t like him in that way.  He’s nice enough, but I just don’t like him in that way and I can’t force myself to.  I’ve tried to tell him, two days in a row now, that we should just be friends.  But then I feel like I’ve hurt him and want to take it back.  It doesn’t help that he keeps trying so hard.  I don’t want to completely crush him after all the help that he’s given me, but I honestly cannot fathom what to do in this situation.  Yet another new one for me.  Generally I see these before they happen and prevent them.  I need to be single for a while anyway, and rebuild my world around myself, and not another boy.

Now I’m in a library, I have an exam in a statistics class at 9:30 in the morning and I can’t bring myself to study.  I ended up with my head on the table before I cranked up the old blog and started to spill this useless story out into the already overcrowded intertubes.  I need to study.  But the betrayer is coming to the library so I’m probably going to have to make an excuse and leave.  Then I’ll hve to talk to the other boy, who I have just beat to death the last two days.  I swear to God, one day I’ll learn to stop projecting my pain onto others.

On another note, I’ve been working on scuplture and some woodwork, and reading through 6 years of Questionable Content, an excellent webcomic that I recently discovered.  I started reading the new ones, realized that I was wholly ignorant of the plot, and started at the beginning.  What a difference so many years make in a cartoonist’s drawing style, too.  So my life isn’t entirely bereft of enjoyment.  If I hadn’t drowned my camera a while back I’d even post pictures of my sculpture, incomplete as it is.  Perhaps I’ll buy myself a new one.  Next month.

Well, internet, I believe I shall get to work on mathematics.  It’s a subject I hate but if I do well enough on this exam I’ll get my first A in a math class in years.  Oddly, I feel better having written this.  Thank you, internet.

PSA: Lukewarm espresso from Sbux=death.

So I’m upset that Obama has thrown LGBT rights under the bus. Should have known it though. He’s just so slick, I didn’t realize it was true until he expanded faith-based programs and defended DADT. Oh well.

Watching Iran crumble is proving to be fun. We’re going to have a Tienanmen Square moment here soon, when Khameni decides to use the troops to quell the uprising. Goodbye, “Mandated” Islamic Revolution. Show yourself for the dictatorship by force that you are.

Funny, though, that we are seeing protests in Tehran. The most liberal, educated Iranians are likely to be in Tehran. The countryside? Seems quiet. Those are the people who voted Ahmadinejad in. They like him. So, we’re seeing protests over what is, in all likelihood, a duly elected authoritarian figure. Go democracy!

On a more personal note, I’m broke and don’t have the money to buy my father a father’s day gift. Hell, I may not have the money in gas to get home to see him on father’s day. Oops. Oh well.

Now, internet, I have to go to the library to complete this asinine assignment for my statistics class. Two more days and I’m done. Thank God.

It has been one hell of a week, internet. I’ll recount.

My boyfriend broke up with me on wednesday. It was ugly and messy and I’m still rather upset about it. He left me to go back to his ex whom he left for me, who happens to be 30. My ex is 20. Not a good match, in my opinion, but who am I to say. Wasn’t my choice. Anyway.

SO I’ve been distraught over him for a few days, but with the help of some good friends and alcohol sparingly applied, I’m doing better.

Meanwhile, I’m watching my nation turn socialist before my eyes, and it makes me hate Sarah Palin and the Republican party even more, because I am sure that John McCain would have allowed GM to fail like it should have. Sorry dealers and workers, your company has been dead since the 70’s and it just didn’t have the good sense to leave. Now even more money has been pumped into it, extorted from an unwilling populace by a runaway government. We aren’t going to get that money back, make no mistake. Oh well, what’s spent is spent. I just can’t wait for the Car Tsar to be appointed.

I’ve forgotten why I even came to college in the first place, it was for the expansion of my mind and learning. Consequently, I’m going to start reading my copy of the Aeneid, the Bible and a study of Opus Dei. My mind has been allowed to languish for too damn long. Hopefully I haven’t allowed it to perish from misuse.

Look for more possible content from me in the coming weeks and months, if I can re-fire my brain and form a competent, informed opinion on anything. Not that my opinions are anything more than that, opinions.

Aargh I’m sick, creative juices don’t flow…aackkk…

So obviously I haven’t posted anything in a while, which can be attributed to my lack of creative faculty and my overwhelming college schedule. I don’t think that I’ve let you down, hypothetical reader, because I didn’t say anything interesting enough to keep people interested beyond one post. I’m quite busy at the moment, what with my boyfriend and my job and school, but I think I’m going to make an effort to post something regularly. Not for you, hypothetical reader, but for myself, because I feel that I will lose any creative talent I once might have held if I don’t utilize it every now and again. All of the technical courses I’ve taken have ground any eloquence out of my writing in favor of “concise, clear speech.” Well, I say to hell with concise, clear speech, bring on the extended conceits and synecdoche! At the moment I must do my homework for linguistics (fun subject there), but I promise you, hypothetical reader, that I will submit something to the numbing power that is the internet; and I will rest assured that someone will read it, even if the only comments are spam.