hurricane

edie sedgwick.
ring a bell?
if so, do  you really understand who she was?
most don't.
Factory Girl was a good movie.
I don't want to talk anymore I guess.
I have been having trouble eating too much again.
I'm gonna blow up inside and out one day

hittheroadjack27

Alive with the glory of Love

It's really becoming apparent to me that the more hardships we go through, the more beautiful
Life seems.
The more difficult it is to understand the meaningless relationships, interactions, and actions.
This almost seems like a curse.
Being/ feeling sorta wise
Feeling stuck in your own righteous mind
Pushing away people because they are follower of the popular news feed and have very little else to them
Should we all follow the status quo? Those who do, they seem happy.
I have stopped worrying about others unless they would care that I cared. I am my own protector and forever will be. We all are this, for ourselves.
It's a magical position to be in actually, I've got the power!
We all have all the power we let ourselves possess.
I've always wanted to do a handstand, a back walkover, a front something, a round off.
I can. I know that I I can!! But I won't hurt myself
Like that. I might not be strong enough. When im about to go do it, I feel so so weak. But still have energy. It's a peculiar feeling and so I stop.
I unwillingly quit at this task I have wanted Ti complete for so long. Its weird. I don't know if it's my mind or body holding me back.

Come fly with me

I've been flying. So high above reality.
Not caring or thinking about landing.
Just flying (solo)
I consider a partner
And consider the troubles
I go back to flying (solo)
and stop considering anything!

A caring family friend mentioned yesterday
something I thought was good
but she did it in such a peculiar manner
foreshadow
she noticed how happy ive been
retrospect reminded her of my old pain
it was evident- to strong to hide
just like my happiness now is
she is fearful of the future
i am not
i am excited
and that is constant

is this foolish? or is it wise beyond comprehension?
maybe that is why my good friends feel like i don't like them anymore

who knows

All you need is love.

My world is becoming more and more shaped around God. I think I like this. I think I love Him.
I feel amazing, almost happy. Today I stumbled across something really sad.. This beautiful, talented, down to earth, God-worshipping boy has cancer. Who woulda guessed such a awesome person would get such a NOT awesome disease. This has really just been on my mind all day. I prayed a lot. Hour after hour- each time I was reminded of this tragedy. I've even considered taking all my mooney out of my bank and giving it to his family if that would save him. Some peoples' lives just seem so much more valuable, ya know?
On friday I experienced something like a youth group AT A CHRISTMAS party. I LOVED IT!
I enjoy "deep conversations" ( i NEEd to find a better word for those) more than anything else and that's what went on.ittarted with "Daniel from the lions den" opening his heart to me and telling me about himself. I heard a few testimonies and shared what might be mine. My life suddenly clicked. All these blessings I have been experiencing had been explained to me by me (or maybe by God:))
I have the willpower to go to work, to graduate this year, to apply to colleges, to save my money, to not worry about the little things, to have the wisdom to help others with their problems, to be able to gt ready in only ten minutes, to not let me eating disorder get to the best of me like it used to. And finally, to be able to express all this (hopefully clearly!)
I have decided I don't want boyfriends. I want love and that's all. I want someone who will devote his life to me, not his time. I don't care about hanging out- I'm much too busy for that (at least right now) I care about the big picture.. Is it too soon for all this? It doesn't matter because I don't need/want soon. My future is all I care about. All... and all you need is love. forever. in the long run. That's what matters NOW and THEN. I wish even I could understand myself but at the same time it really doesn't matter!
Ah the simplicity of carlessness.
I love my job at supercuts, I love talking to strangers and keeping busy. I love having purposed. I'm so excited to get acceptance/ rejection letters from colleges and having to make a choice of what to do next year. CA/Germany/AZ?! :D
If i wasn't excited all the time I would be nothing. Possibly even dead.

Anyway. Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Listen to some good music and appreciate what you got. Peace


I don't care about making sense anymore. All anyone does is babble anyway right?

I don't wanna work! I just wanna bang on the drums all day

~~~~English Essay~~~~
I actually am proud of this and it really gives an idea of what I enjoy.
:) read and respond!

Milea Trujillo

Backes

AP English

September 5, 2011

Diversity in such a Shared Interest

    I  have arrived. I expected to be here. But I didn’t expect everything that comes with it. The unexpected is surreal. It’s pure and satisfying beyond belief. It’s like home. It is home to few but can be to anyone. On a passive day, there will be a free parking space on ashen gravel in front of the park, but one must always be careful of the nonsymbiotic chickens roaming freely. Listen for their emphatic cockles. For fear of their life, visitors are asked to watch for them as they park and to not feed them. The Coffee and Deli sells stale, day’s old, brick hard bread pieces specifically for them. Around here there are no real rules. The common, people from the area have their own idea of what’s right and wrong and it’s accepted by all who come together on this evening. Before parking, I contemplate to stop at the baroque boutique. Hmm. Or maybe that charming antique shop. Or the “Blossoming Path” which smelt of energy- incense- and was lit by dim, saffron lights- a customer is getting spiritual guidance. I think I saw a jam-packed candy store too. Mmm. Oh, and it was old-fashioned! But there are so many other sweet stops to browse through, all in leisurely walking distance, all on the same street, by the cute café, the coffee shop, the deli, the “open mic” place.

    The ambrosial café is crowded. Everyone glances at me as I enter. Eye contact is made with some and small, somewhat meaningful smiles are exchanged. Ahh, acknowledgement. Soft, acoustic melody fills the aromatic air. The fantastic guitarist is none other than the handsome boy who was practicing under the Maple tree at the peaceful park just an hour ago. The lovely girl he was with is sitting at a Pub table, abandoned by him for the moment. She plays next. Songs of heart ache. I can feel it in my heart, in my soul. I can see it her eyes. She is wearing a short, flowery, nude colored, woven dress and no shoes on her skinny, pale, tattooed feet.  Everyone here is so different looking like the clothing selection at a thrift store. All ages, all sexes, and probably all sexuality’s surround me. Some can play and will perform but some, like me, just anticipate the performance.  I see the classic Fender guitar, Lanikai ukulele, Remo bongo, Lyons xylophone, and Hohner harmonica. I hear sentimental, abstract poems. Two pieces played per person, but no time limit. Really, there are no limits at all- just some suggestions and preferences. Lyrics, no lyrics, poems, humming, oldies, or new age- whatever you’d like to share- we’d like to be shared with.

    There is a beige, tall, slightly full bookshelf. It has a meager, yet visible sign. “Give and Take- Book Exchange- Borrow a Book!” Around the adorable café are a few other tan shelves with trinkets, Corn Flakes boxes, old canisters and things that I’m sure all have some relevant meaning to the owner/ decorator.  There is art. It’s all art, in a sense. There is a fantastic German cuckoo clock and eccentric strings of lights. The rough tablecloths are made of hemp and have Flat glass on the top for an easy dining experience. Under the smooth glass, John/Jane Q. Public have squeezed their business cards- offering services like house cleaning, Zillo real estate, demolition, medical marijuana, Passion Parties, hair styling and anything else. Pots of beautiful, large and small flowers are filling the air with ambience in random places. The lengthy menu is on seaweed colored Quartet chalk board with attractive, squiggly writing. Some special parts of the wall have been painted on- uniquely with nice, neutral, perfect colors- of drawings that are all sorts of figments of some body’s imagination.  It feels texturized and bumpy- it’s hand painted. There is so much surrounding me but it’s not cluttered. It’s not “short on space”. There is plenty. It’s just well arranged so what meets the eye is gratifying. I feel as if I’ve had my “art fix” of the day. It’s a pleasant, peaceful atmosphere that makes anyone feel like they just met “the one”. It’s the same with the brief reach to the bathroom. I go out the orange backdoor. Then walk alongside a chipped wood, hazel fence which has wind chimes of all sorts strung along it and more paintings- of chickens repeatedly, sort off guiding my path to the restroom. Then, inside the room, the trash can is just a simple bucket and bag. There is only one, unisex bathroom. One simple toilet and sink with all the basics. You don’t need much else do you?

     After letting some out, I have room to let some in. Organic Java City coffee, tea, or smoothie? Fresh cookie, croissant, bagel, muffin, sandwich, soup or salad? Sweet or salty? Healthy or fatty? The overwhelming aroma of a perfectly scorched asiago bagel, with perhaps what is red pepper hummus, from the customer in front of me has got my attention and I order “what he’s having”.  I sit and enjoy the music again. It’s more “rock n rollish” this time and the crowd is singing along flawlessly and banging on tables captivatingly on beat. My bagel is delivered by the end of the song and toasted with skill. The sweet waitress smiles and gets back to work, bending to get through the mess of chairs and people.

    I don’t come here every week because I like the food particularly. It’s not that. It’s not that the people are really nice or super friendly either. They aren’t. They are all in their own little world, but can appreciate the same things as I do. It’s not even music that I like! I do, I do. But there are lots of open mic nights with good music- music that I’d enjoy. It’s how I feel when I’m there with all these simple but possibly very complex people, singing songs that I can and do relate to, in a style that relaxes me. There isn’t an over abundance of people but the place isn’t dead. They have a big menu but not so many choices where I really can’t choose. The music isn’t blasting but it’s loud enough where it’s a little bit hard to talk to your partner. Everything is perfect. It’s quaint. It’s not only special on Thursday’s (open mic night). It’s always special. Must be the décor. Must be the combination if it all. I love this homely, peaceful place of enchantment where everything goes.

Decisions and fate

I have never been good at making up my mind. That must be why these days I depend on my feelings. I just know when something is right or wrong. Not this time. Actually i do. But I believe there is a slight difference between what's right and wrong and what is meant to happen whether or not it's "right". Who is the REAL judge anyway? And what do I care? If i feel something is right then obviously it is. For me.
I want dreads. It's been a desire of mine for almost a year. The thought of it preventing me a job has held me back. But if they do prevent a job- that job must suck and I wouldn't be happy there anyway. *snaps all around the room* yeah. And then. there are some things that I think that I don't even have the courage to blog about. Another decision. It's not even really a decision. It's a must. And the answer is no.

Beautiful Boy

He doesn't meet my gaze

catch my eye

look at me how i look at him.

our hands don't fit.

our lips don't spark.

my head doesn't fit on his shoulder.

he doesn't surprise me

he is predictable and ordinary

he didn't do anything for me on Valentines day

we don't say goodnight or good morning

he looks away

he's not deep. but he is conceited

i don't feel special

it's not just how i feel

i'm not special

not to him

i won't be loved

....

BUT he can be soo funny

interesting

informational

handsome

nice

mean

rude

 thoughtful

generous

...

Man I gotta break up with him

i don't miss him