Where Do We Go Now? - GNR

There are two sections of my bedroom where lyrics are taped to the walls. The first place is between my bookshelf and my bed stand. Those lyrics have been there for a long time, probably five or six years without modification. The songs include: "99 Red Balloons" by Goldfinger, "The Anthem" by Good Charlotte, "Everything Is Alright" by Motion City Soundtrack, "Here It Goes Again" By OK Go, "Beverly Hills" by Weezer, and "Holiday In Spain" by Counting Crows.

More recently, but still aged by three years or so, are the lyrics on my ceiling above my bed. They are: "Pain" by Three Days Grace, "Redundant," "Hitchin A Ride," and "16" by Green Day, "My World" by Avirl Lavigne, "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns N' Roses, and "Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down. Some of these songs make me laugh and think why I ever put the lyrics on my wall (Avril Lavigne). The majority of the songs and artists are still high up on my favorites list, especially Green Day, Guns N' Roses, Weezer, and Counting Crows. I love and am proud of the music I listen to. The lyrics on my walls are not a fair representation. Most of the time I can put my iTunes library on shuffle and be satisfied with any song that plays.

I make it my business to be an influence on other people's music tastes and greatly appreciate when they influence mine.

Written 11 November 2009

Disturb and Perturb the Mind

A while ago I bought a book like I usually do at Barnes and Noble when I have gift cards to spend. I picked this book up off a table of "buy two, get the third free" paperbacks along with "I Love You, Beth Cooper" by Larry Doyle and "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath. The third book, the one I'm speaking of, was "Fragile Things" by Neil Gaiman. I had heard positive acclamations of Neil Gaiman and his work before so I guessed this collection of short fiction wouldn't be a bad choice. Plus, the cover was very inviting.

Up to this point, I've read quite a few of the shorts fictions. My favorite so far is "October in the Chair." Most of the stories are off by certainly entertaining. This book is somewhat a new leaf in my endeavorer of fiction reading, as the writing, subject matter, and plot are very different from anything I've read before.

The most recent short story I read was called "Feeders and Eaters." It was about a man's account to another man of an encounter with a strange woman who needed to eat raw meat to survive. She eventually held the cat, owned by her boarding family, hostage and each day sliced some meat off it's hind legs. The man telling the story and this creepy woman ended up together at the end of the story, and the man who was listening to the account was left completely bewildered. I too was left very confused and somewhat disgusted. The image of the mutilated cat left a bad taste in my mouth.

However, that bad taste was not a hindrance in my enjoyment of the story. The language Gaiman uses is easy to comprehend but still reaches a high level of sophistication. I have enjoyed all that I've read so far and look forward to reading my way through the rest of the book. I definitely suggest this book.

Written on 9 November 2009

Hunter's Moon

The moon was full yesterday. It's been a while since I've taken time to watch a moon rise. On Halloween, I noticed how close the moon was to being full and made a note in my head that I wanted to watch it rise on the second. On November first, I made my sister go on a walk with me around our neighborhood at five o'clock, the time of the moon rise. We walked five laps, around a mile and a quarter. The change we witnessed in the sky was drastic. The sun had just set when we were began walking, and by the time we were finished, the moon was up, the stars were out, and the sky was dark.

We followed the same pattern the next night to see the full moon of November 2nd. After walking another five laps, Sawyor went inside. I asked her to turn off our porch lights so I could see the moon and stars better. I sat on the trunk of my car, which wasn't all that comfortable. I sat there for about an hour, and in that time, a dozen or so airplanes passed over my head, two flocks of geese startled me, and quite a few fire engines went by in nearby streets. It took a while for the moon to be visible through the clouds, but when I could finally see it, the moment was well worth the wait. I took pictures, but they don't do it justice.

Written on 3 November 2009

Ice On Walden Pond

I am a Thoreau fan. I appreciate his writing much like a piece of art. His words are on the wall in my high school library. They appear:

"Books are the treasured wealth of the world..."

I read Walden during the summer before my junior year because it was on the American Literature reading list and because I had desired to read it for some time. I was the only person in my Am Lit class who voluntarily read Walden. I can't say I wasn't proud of myself. I have two quotes stored in my brain:

"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."

"However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are."

The second quote I've reflected upon many times. It is from the conclusion chapter. I'd like to call Thoreau a simplicisist, but that is definitely not a word. The meaning of it, though, is fundamental. Thoreau's words, lifestyle, and state of mind are simple but incredibly powerful and captivating.

written 29 October 2009

Snow Globe Living

In my snow globe life, the centerpiece is a breathtaking Japanese Cherry Blossom tree in the prime of its bloom. Small white flowers, dozens and dozens of them. White with pink middles. The bark is dark brown, and the trunk and branches are thin. It is a beautiful scene.

Surrounding the Cherry Blossom, open books rest on the ground. Some are in piles, others are solitary. These are the book of my past and present. Children's books, teen fiction, the classics, my autobiography. They tell the story of my life thus far. They are the blank books of my future, ready to be filled.

Go ahead. Pick up my life and shake it.

Little crescent moons float and swirl around the tree and fall upon the open books. The little moons are silver and blue with little smiling faces.

entry: 7 October 2009

Gypsy Tales

"There was always been this memory in my head. It couldn't have happened in my current lifetime; it must be a memory from a past life. I will tell it to you now. Try not to be frightened. But do forgive me, children, my memory is not what it used to be."

The old woman sat in the rocking chair with an afghan throw covering her lap and legs. The three little children, two girls and a boy, set cross-legged in front of her, admiring the blanket and listening in awe. the woman began her story.

"The surrounding buildings look like Grecian architecture. All of the stone columns and ivy growing up the sides. It was a very pretty place full of green grass and hedge gardens. There was also a pond in the garden with strangely large fish. I was not alone in this place. There were a dozen other little girls like me. Yes, I am your age in this memory. Each little girl was paired with a witch. It was a magical place, but these were nice witches, not like the wicked witch of the west. All the witches were wearing the traditional black pointy hat and swooping cape.

"My witch and I flew kites and fished in the pond with the other little girls and their witches. I believe I had a balloon and carried it with me the whole day.

"I must have let go of my balloon on accident because it got stuck in one of the big garden hedges. Oh, wait a minute. Was it my balloon or was it my kite? The details are fuzzy. Anyways, my witch went into the hedge to retrieve my balloon, but she got stuck and died right there. I didn't know what to do. I was only a little girl. All the other witches were angry and blamed me for my witch's death. I felt very confused and alone. No one listened when I tried to tell them it wasn't my fault!"

The story ended and the children looked bewildered. The old woman sat back in her rocker, please that another of her gypsy stories satisfied the young ones for the evening. They went off to sleep without another peep. The old gypsy woman say with her afghan in her chair and smiled.

The gypsy woman's story is a dream I had when I was four years old. The dream is permanently stained in my memory. I can still see the images and little details in my brain.

entry: 6 October 2009

My Life in Flames: A Dream

note: this is the fourth very vivid dream I've had about Billie Joe Armstrong/Green Day. In these dreams, Billie Joe is there in person and there is interaction between us always.

I was waiting outside my house with my friend Catherine. There was no indication of what we were waiting for. Billie Joe showed up in a van. I twas Billie Joe himself, but he was more of a teenager, like in the Dookie days. Catherine took lots of pictures of us.

The next scene, Catherine was gone. Billie Joe was still in my house but not with me - I could still feel his presence. I was awoken from my sleep by a very loud crack. My windows were open, and the noise came from outside. I got up to look out my window. I saw the house at the end corner of the street. It was summer, but there were Christmas lights on one of the hedges in front of the house. The loud crack was the sound of one of the light bulbs breaking.
The hedge caught fire from the electricity.

The fire was small, but soon the whole house was burning. Somehow the fire traveled in a line, like gunpowder or gasoline in a movie, up the street to my house. I was trying to tell my mom our house was on fire. She wasn't listening. The fire was getting closer as I stared out my window. I was so scared.

All of a sudden, my mom yelled for us to get out of the house. Everyone went outside quickly, but I was frantically gathering stuff in my room that I wanted to keep safe. The most important thin was my American Idiot CD. I grabbed it and ran outside. I was screaming because I didn't want my room to be burned and ruined.

By this point, our whole house was on fire. Billie Joe was outside with us. He was trying to hold me back and calm me down. I was shaking with anger and screaming and crying. I think I was blaming my mom for not listening to me and letting this happen.

entry: 2 October 2009