look up: a clear blue sky

so last week i missed a bunch of class because i was angry at the world. on saturday i actually got really sick with a bad cold or the flu or some other terrible thing and it's not getting any better. i've been freaking out at the amount of work i have to do and i really can't miss more class... i barely slept last night and eventually crawled out of bed at 8am. i emailed my history teacher and told her how terrible i feel and that if i take the mid-term today, i will surely fail. but still, i was pretty sure that i would have to go anyway. just now, feeling doomed, i got this email:
" Stay in bed.
Get in touch with me when you are feeling better."

hoorah hoorah! now i just have to write a paper and maybe drag myself in to work (i am so poor) and the day will be done.


what a life what a life i live. it's getting pretty old. i'm so sick of school. and sick. and miserable. arghhhh. wish me your best.

happy list returns!!!

-when something you've assumed is artificial turns out to be real
-drunk haircuts with rachel
-atcha bakery
-mud
-pesto
-the art party
-leroy is making me a spinach sandwich
-spanwiches
-spinietzche
-awesome readings for sociology class
-trading clothes
-bare feet
-sharing
-cat hat from brittany
-looking/feeling like a cartoon
-wine from the bottle
-so much music i can't say

listening to: rakiim some kind of rap "mricophone fiend"

hmm

i just switched over to the new version of blogger. because blogger wouldn't let me login if i didn't do it... it seems pretty cool so far. the only reason i hadn't done it yet was because it switches over not only my account, but my team blogs as well, so i had to remove myself from the art party blog to do this... and now i can't get back on. really sucks. this is life, i guess. everything continues to suck and nothing works the way it should.
so yeah, i'm not too happy about the general state of things right now. every night i go to bed hoping that i won't wake up, and by the time i wake up, i've forgotten that and just do the whole deal all over again. it's really lame. i kind of hate that hope always comes back. it would be easier if it just went away and stayed there.
i am at work. there's not much work to be done here in the library right now... i have lots of things i should be doing for school, but none of my important reading is with me. i should probably go, either way.
it's weird to be blogging. maybe i'll keep it up a little.

i'm going to try reviving this blog... here goes!

well maybe not right at this exact second. i have two papers due before the end of the week, which means i'll be writing at least 15 pages and doing loads of research. wish me luck.

Political Compass assignment

I think I can safely say that I know myself.  I know about my beliefs and opinions, so I thought the Political Compass exercise would be unsurprising, although I was still interested to take the test and see the results.  It’s interesting to be forced to take a stand on an issue, since “no opinion” or “not sure” is not an option; there is no safety net in between “agree” and “disagree.”  Certain questions held me for much longer than others as I struggled to define in one bubble answer how I feel about some rather complex subjects.  For example, should pornography, depicting consenting adults, be legal for the adult population?  While I truly despise pornography, its cheapening of sex, and its enforcement of stereotypes, I still think it should be legal.  Why?  The sex industry is an industry just the same, with workers and clients, a supply and demand.  And who knows, perhaps someone will make a brilliant porn film soon enough. In fact, I’m counting on it.

So, I came to the end of the survey, mostly feeling that my answers were accurate, and was quite surprised to see myself placed where I was on the graph. Nearly falling off! I had guessed that I’d be in this quadrant, but not so far toward the left and certainly not so close to the libertarian/anarchism line at the bottom of the graph.  Looking back over my printed survey answers, I wondered if perhaps I ended up at coordinates (-8.5, -7.64) because I had used the “strongly” agrees and disagrees so many times.  I filled out the survey again, without using any of the adjective answers, and I moved a little farther right and just above the middle between the libertarian and social medians.  Perhaps this was a more fitting place for my small red circle of ideologies.  However, while I was taking the survey a second time, the whole time I was thinking, “But I strongly disagree, really!”  I’m glad to be reminded how passionately I feel about many of these issues, although before now I’ve never really thought that strong feelings equaled the degree to which someone is liberal or conservative.

This survey was particularly interesting because although it is a questionnaire to help visualize a person’s political beliefs, it also asks about the survey-taker’s opinion on astrology, luck, and the justification of abstract art.  One proposition states “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” which is not an overtly political statement and does not concern any one issue, but at the same time, it says a lot about the way a person thinks, which in turn influences his or her politõical ideologies. While certainly not a perfect survey, the Political Compass was still a good sampling of important issues and beliefs to help determine the political whereabouts of a person.

I got my Republican, Bush-voting boyfriend to take this test and he turned out to be in the left economically as well as liberal socially, which was probably more of a surprise for him than it was for me.  He wasn’t quite sure that this is where he really fits, but he said, “I guess if you have strong opinions, you’ve gotta be something.”  I’m not really sure exactly what that something is, for him as well as myself.  I can see where the coordinates put me, but whether I can be defined as a Democrat or an Anarchist, I can’t say.  As convenient as labels can sometimes be, I plan to keep trying life without such a specific one for now.  I want to know myself even better and try to always act in accordance with my beliefs.

"Alanna, your soul is so beautiful." -- katherine

notes on the way home from houston

just imagining all the words i could hold
peach speach
to grow + grow
soft + pitted
made of fruit substance
built for purpose
composed of matter

the light of oil
destructing beautifully
goodbye to clean sky

light in dark
the lamps that spark
against clean night
replace the stars
we've all forgotten

but grass grows
in abandoned parking lots
and on the
crumbling rooves of ancient buildings

cellos sound with the
speed of the sun
rumbling over, all eyes
pricked to function
repeat, circle

<- -="" come="" together="">
bring meaning
matter
host of thoughts
brain ball
repeat
circle

there stays a springing
grass grows again
trees crack into sidewalk
the unstoppable
and i want to live in a bright bungalow
with a moss-covered roof
and open windows
if i can just stop pulling out my hair
if i can get over all these hurdles
circumstance willing, i can get there

trash piling up around our towns
are we drowning yet?
supply + demand
waste + discard
REPLACE
REPEAT
CIRCLE

plastic covered and metal sheathed
land flattened and set in concrete
wood wasted
the mediums of structure
the bonds of matter
are all things that matter
REPEAT
CIRCLE

this is a call to arms
with able hands
and heads full of bodies
every person is
a whole person

in perspective
things look smaller
when farther away
and the blood of others
flows free and separate
distant from our own
through silent strings
run from each spider
soul

With my hair short, I feel more feminine. I'm wearing earrings, and I feel attractive and womanly. Like Janelle said, I can appreciate my lumpy bits, the padded places of a woman. I want one of those pins that says "start a revolution, love your body." I don't want to feel fucked up because of advertising and discontentment anymore. Truly. I don't have any reason to be afraid of the mirror. I am beautiful. ...

Shower Realizations
I love my life, I love my friends, and I love my body. I'm happy with who I am, what I've done, and where I've been, but not satisfied, which also makes me happy. I love that there is always room for change and evolution. I can't wait to be more.

New Year Goals
-Use the computer less, especially because I usually just sit there mindlessly refreshing the same pages.
-Write more (this will hurt)
-Be active - the community needs me!
-Recognize responsibilities. Gauge importance. Act!
-Eat better. I have a bad diet, but the worst part is that I'm supporting evil companies doing it.
-Research. Find out where the problems are.
-Read the news every day. Listen to more NPR.
-Think!
-Don't get wrapped up in substances. Find substance.
-Share music and be musical.
-Make friends. Try.
-Speak in class. Speak up.
-Improve my posture.
-Learn to drive, and get my license. I've had this same goal for the past 3 years. God damn.

TRASH TRASH TRASH

1. Shh! Ass Tart Art
be quiet!

people be quiet!



is this a painting?

we don't understand it

a mess of color!

let's burn and ban it!



shh! ass tart art! shh! ass tart art!

got no meaning! got no heart!

shh! ass tart art! shh! ass tart art!

burn it down! tear it apart!



be quiet! people, be quiet!

more cohesion!

you oughta try it!



shh! etc . . .

2. Trash Trash Trash
trash trash trash

you'll never take us out

trash trash trash

we'll never shut our mouths



we got the beats

make the streets stink

we got the speak

make your brains think



parents claim we're dangerous

townie cops are scared of us

but the revolution's in your bedroom

smoking pot, watching cartoons



trash trash trash

you'll never take us out

trash trash trash

3. Tha Hat Rash
tha hat rash has taken over

people, look up! your heads are covered!



everyone you know is a victim!

we're all infected with cranium fashion!



tha hat rash has taken over

people look up! your heads are covered



tha hat rash or tha brain fever?

never leave the house unless you're covered!

wear a special cap while you're in the shower

fall asleep in your fedora

we're all infected with cranium fashion

everyone you know is a victim!



tha hat rash has taken over!

people, look up! you're heads are covered.

4. Trasht Haarrt
sick and tired of the girl and boy thing

never stick around to hear the birds sing

muscle's broken! romance is a beesting.



trasht hart! trasht hart!

i'd trade a god a finger for a second start!

i got a trasht hart! trasht hart!

drop some arteries in a shopping cart!



love no object that's alive and breathing

lie all day and they all believe me

sick and tired of the girl and boy thing

never stick around to hear the birds sing

muscle's broken! romance is a besting



trasht hart! trasht hart!

i'd trade a god a finger for a second start!

i got a trasht hart! trasht hart!

drop some arteries in a shopping cart!

5. Shtar Hast Arsht
shtar!

sthar hast!

shtar hast arsht!

wienerschnizel! wienershnizel! ya! ya! ya! ya!



we love the ways of german people!

berlin, lager, and wienershnizel!

but we don't like walls and we don't kill people!



shtar!

shtar hast!

shtar hast arsht!

wienershnizel! wienershnizel! ya! ya! ya! ya!



liederhosen! knickerbockers!

we hate nazis, but we drink lager!

6. Stratarats
stratarats came from outerspace

shot up town, put us in our place



time to crawl in cracks and walls

get by on trash and alcohol



our lives were changed by stratarats

now there's no need for beaurocrats

we just eat and fuck and run from cats



time to crawl in cracks and walls

get by on trash on alcohol

don't mind being dumb and small

if we don't need jobs at the mall



stratarats came from outerspace

shot up town, put us in our place

now there's no need for beaurocrats

we just eat and fuck and run from cats

and we owe it all to stratarats

7. Art Hrs
stay up late making art for hrs!

coffee and speed! forget to shower!

hallucinate on your own brain power!



surrealist still life charcoal mess

we're too tired for making sense

proffesors think that we regressed

but we think too much for making sense



who needs acid? make art for hrs!

coffee and speed! forget to shower!

hallucinate on your own brain power



restriction is a fiction they will try to sell you

don't buy it! boycott it!

8. SARS Shaht
don't forget to get your sars shaht

chinese disease gonna make your lungs stop



severe acute respiratory syndrome

gonna eat your babies

gonna make your wife moan



don't for get your chinese sars shaht

chinese disease gonna make your lungs stop

9. Rasta Rats
10. Has Tha Ass
11. R Rats Trash Hats?!
12. Hash Stash
13. Tha Stars R Ars

ALANNA’S TOP 10 OF 2005

1) 50 Foot Wave - Golden Ocean
2) Why? - Elephant Eyelash
3) M.I.A. - Arular
4) Sleater-Kinney - The Woods
5) Animal Collective - Feels
6) Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs
7) Of Montreal - The Sunlandic Twins
8) Ani DiFranco - Knuckle Down
9) Sons and Daughters - The Repulsion Box
10) 13 & God
11) The White Stripes - Get Behind Me, Satan
12) Fiona Apple - Extraordinary Machine (Jon Brion version)
13) Devendra Banhart - Cripple Crow
14) The Mountain Goats - The Sunset Tree
15) Imogen Heap - Speak For Yourself
16) Bright Eyes - I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning
17) Scandaliz Vandalistz - A Real Band
18) The Kills - No Wow
19) Out Hud - Let Us Never Speak Of It Again
20) Juliana Hatfield - Made in China



EPs
1) 50 Foot Wave - Free Music
2) Why? - Sanddollars
3) Aesop Rock - Fast Cars, Danger, Fire, and Knives
4) Brit Lit Bandits - You Might Die Tonight
5) oh man i forgot.



BRANDON'S TOP 10
1.Why- Elephant Eyelash
2. 50FootWave-Golden Ocean
3. Sleater-Kinney- The Woods
4. Devandra Banhart- Cripple Crow
5. Of Montreal- The Sunlandic Twins
6. Deerhoof- The Runners Four
7. Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs
8. Animal Collective- Feels
9. M.I.A.-Arular
10. Dangerdoom

An ambulance reels past and actually stops at a house I've never thought about. A red car, I guess. Someone inside is placed on a stretcher. Every house. Every person. This sucks.
I tiptoe around acorns, evading tiny murders. My brain sticks in the rut of patterns, every day's repetitions leaving mile-wide scars. Pull hair, pinch skin, bite lips. Broken.
At any close inspection, you can see my breaking points. Why am I writing this, I can't even hold a pen right.
All I can do is imagine the active part of myself, standing up to bullies and the ignorant masses. I sit in the library and imagine telling the talking assholes to shut the fuck up, this is a library. I grit my teeth and imagine doing it, seething and stewing in my own anger.

I feel like most of the conversations I have are one-sided, I'm having one completely separate from the other party. Disconnected, speaking into a tin can with a string that attaches to my back. Pull it and I speak. I'm almost like a real girl, but not quite. I talk and I think the words will fill something, I think they can become. Instead they drown me, they never really leave my mouth and continue to fill me until you can see them swimming in my eyes. Cry. Speak. Listen. My ears are better tools than my tongue, but all responses come out wrong.

i'm sick of this stagnation

tongue overflowing mercilessly 

stuck on one rotating record 

scribble life of no movement 

must make, must move 

feel the sun 

sweat 

skin my knees 

got to stop feeling 

so simply + 

superficially  

trapped 

got to 

get back to my freedom place 

the joy + pain of nine years old 

stuck at the top of a 

door  

frame 

[written on "broadminded mental brains" program, date unknown]

The sick reality is that this place is empty. I am the only person sitting outside on a beautiful day, the sky electric blue and my jacket discarded at my waist. Wind blows my skirt occasionally, revealing my bird-ape legs to the passersby on cell phones. Leaves sit on pavement next to me, a spider flies by and I'm accidentally caught in her lifeline. Still, there's no kids on the surrounding grass and the only humans are moving rapidly to their next classes, the doors of the Engineering building bang open and closed. This is the reality I have discovered: kids do not lie in the grass. We've all seen something shattering, something that makes us question life and humanity. And yes, this hugeness is introduced by an empty quad. People don't go to parks for fun? They don't use substances to completely let go of themselves? They don't like drive-in movies? They don't like getting lost? They don't consider their friends as valuable as their boyfriends? What are these people thinking?! I shouldn't be judgmental.

No matter how much I drink, I can still make it up the three flights on your fire escape and crawl back home. And falling up the walls, out the window backwards to over there. I'm gone, with a changeling baby in my place. Hey tell me, is that allowed? A changeling for a changeling? Could you tell the difference? Well don't worry, I'll be back and she'll be gone, out the window backwards, down your fire escape.

Maybe if I bought more jeans. And gave my band t-shirts away to charity. Maybe then they would like me more or at least think I was normal. Although it's probably something that is sensed rather than bluntly seen. I will probably never pass that test. Not that I'd even want to.

Do you think Tide gets rid of tear stains? It's really no matter, I know the crowds I walk among can't see them on me. It's one of the only things belongs solely to me -- the count of my weeping, the travel of my sorrow, I miss you. It comes back to that, but doesn't boil down to it. The essence is actually questionable. I've always believed that everything has a purpose. And this whole mess feels like nothing more than a mess. Is this another test of our love's strength? I feel we've already mastered distance, though. Are we not designed to be close yet? Was our fated meeting early, and now it's getting fixed? Am I supposed to feel another painful autumn, winter? Is my purpose to feel pain? Am I supposed to be discovering my own strengths? I don't see how I can, I am nothing but dependent in this stage. I have no place in Memphis with my placeholders missing.

The sheer number of blank pages here is terrifying. I have decided to begin filling them since I can't fill my stomach. To have a conversation I can't, because I have no one to talk to. Isn't it supposed to be true that you appreciate art more when you're hungry because artists usually create when hungry? I've heard that, anyway. I am not an artist but maybe I can appreciate each word and letter more this way. I see blank pages to be filled. My life is empty. I came to school today after a weekend of play and couldn't even occupy myself for an hour and a half. I am now resigned to this aloneness; before I somehow thought I would make friends. Now I do not make the effort to smile as I pass people, my classmates, and I do not want to make eye contact. My ninth grade self again, it's true. A weekend of play, but not really pleasure. I don't know how to have a good time anymore, I guess. Stupidity overcomes me and I choke. I smile, I laugh, I answer, "I'm okay" and I do not tell the truth. I'm lying to everyone and you're the only one who notices. I don't understand why you listen when they don't, why you care, why you insist, why your wind blows a different tone. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, my smile is a stretch of hell across my plagued face, I want no one to look at me. Baby, this is the truth. I love you, I do. I know it so certainly now. I can't think of anyone who understands me better, or who I would rather stay with until I can't stay anymore. We're not traditional, we like that. When I talk to you, I know we'll be okay, no matter what I'm saying or what you're thinking of me. I can keep it together long enough for us to be okay, I promise that. It's the fifth day of fall. It still feels like summer and I'm already fucking falling apart. In 3 weeks I'll be with you. Then 2 months after that. We'll be able to live together in a city above water soon? Tell me it can happen, that we can make it and do this biggest thing. I don't know how to live, but I know where I want to be. I'm sick of people looking at my thin bird legs, hairy and misshapen, short and unwilling. I stood in a full-length mirror for the first time in years, and I saw what my mother always said was true. My ankles, as thin as bird bones jutting out and setting off the balance in the poetry of a foot.