Log in

Mystical Llama's Journal [entries|friends|calendar]
Mystical Llama

[ website | My Website ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[28 Nov 2008|02:29pm]
I dont know why but i cant seem to keep a journal up anymore. There was a time i took my journal (paper) everywhere and wrote in it everyday at the cafeteria. Ani used to be all about the livejournal. I just can't seem to do it anymore.

Anyway, i guess i'm out.
post comment

on the subject of denmark... [29 Aug 2008|02:33am]
[ mood | burnt ]

Things have been ok, but not really good thus far. It seems a lot of people are more interested in the things i don't know rather than the things i do know. I'm getting drilled on european cities, capitals and countries left and right. Keep in mind these are first time conversations. It's not very fun for two reasons especially; one, I say stupid shit while under pressure; two, they concentrate far more on my mistake than the past 5, 10, 15 minutes of conversation with them. So as to be expected, they can firmly ground their "all american's are dumbasses" opinion while i just stand there, a "confirmed moron" no doubt. I'm either too embarrassed to go around those people again or I'm irritated that i can't just have small talk the first time i talk to someone.

Example; i said Yugoslavia when someone asked me to name countries in order to guess where a girl was from.

Yes, i was well aware even when i said it that Yugoslavia is no longer a country. With two of my better friends in middle school both being from THERE, i know it was split after war (hence former yugoslavia). So why did i say it? I don't even know. I just felt like I should since i have a friend who still considers herself to be from yugoslavia (because she was born before the war and moved on account of it). So i thought of her and said it. What's next but laughter and incredulous looks? Sorry i fail at your pronounced history/geography quiz, please celebrate your confirmed beliefs of my idiocy since that was your ultimate goal in the first place.

Nevertheless, operation "not give a shit" is failing and i haven't even had my first class. One positive is that i havent met a danish person that i haven't liked. I got REALLY lost in the town and after about 3 hours of walking and sundown, you can imagine my panic. I ran into a family that was walking their dog and the man drove me home. every one of them speak english, i'm convinced. And i've made some friends from south korea, virginia and poland (but she is leaving, unfortunately)

Really, what do you say to someone who says "sorry" when you tell them you're from the US? i don't really know how to handle it. At this point i've just laughed or said "yeah, it's unfortunate" in a way that anyone attuned to my sarcasm would pick up on. Sorry that i'm once again being negative and not positive but i feel like negative is the attitude and opinion surrounding me and those other "poor, unfortunate" americans. there is a point where knocking america is funny and i do enjoy fair amount of brittish "humour," but there is also a point when it's just offensive and hurtful and that happens when the first thing said to you is meant to be an insult rather than just a joke.

Do i take things too seriously? Maybe...but i don't think so. If i had know these people for a month, or shit, a week even, it wouldn't have bothered me hardly at all. In fact, i 'd join the mockery of america myself (cause it is pretty damn funny). But sorry, if your first impression of me lies simply on where i fell out of a hole, then screw off.

post comment

[10 Jul 2008|11:41pm]
haven't written anything in awhile. so i wrote.
post comment

[23 May 2008|07:45pm]
jesus H christ. I am bored.
post comment

[09 May 2008|11:34pm]
once again, suck your happiness and leave me here. so happy for you and just "that sucks" for me. i can barely type and a mention of sleep is being some unworthy soldier who can't handle shit. i was ready for action and on the first line. But instead here i am at home while everyone is deployed.

speaking of being deployed, i really hope that cynthia is ok. I would rather be in her place. Besides, what's it matter? we all will die somehow and at lest i would be able to see some shit before that happens. but of course, i can't even do that since my mom decided to smoke throughout her pregnancy. got some exercise induced asthma and now if i feel like getting killed in battle i can't. That is funny. You poor soul with your overreactive air passages: you can't get into the military. I couldn't just lie about it either. shit, just let me go kill some folks who were brain washed. they will get killed and go to some ridiculous heaven that allows political warfare and religious means to and end. I will not see you there; i am just some poor soul with asthma that doesn't know what to do with their life. that means hell.

is it ok to wan't to leave to write a movie or a screenplay? i think it is okay with me and i don't think that one day i will find myself in love without being ready. i have found that most moments occur when i am fully aware of them and i feel it afterwards. maybe being in love without actually knowing would be a much better feeling. i think it sounds better and it sounds good. i don't really know what more else to say except that i hate that i ate that morning's ham and turkey. what the hell does that mean? i don't even know. i think i should go to bed. i hate having my breath taken away. funny that those feelings associated with being in love sound an awful fucking lot like dying. that is how i will take it from now on. It's sensual and romantic but death all the same.
post comment

[08 May 2008|08:52pm]
so i've gotten rejected and then sat immobile at work for what seemed like an eternity and i can't even get on line to check my email without having a tape measured stomach flash in my face. My my, leave me alone and just go away. If need be, then i will find some way to figure out how to lose my own weight without the "help", or really, the needless flashing of common sense that any individual alive with an IQ of at least 70 should know. Trust me, i do not need an ad to tell me how to drop some lb's (ell bees, is how that should read. do me a favor and forget the accustomed abbreviation for pounds and pronounce the letters in your mind as you read. it is way more amusing that way).

i feel like i must leave the house just to feel my own sadness. I'll be damned if you all don't know why i'm upset; yet, it seems like some mistaken surprise every time you see my drawn face. So i've just been less than animated and less talkative than "normal." in all honesty, maybe i just have no interest in your happiness at the moment. Maybe i am more interested in the fucking confusion and disappointment of it all; especially when so many others felt that my situation would definitely not go the way it did. So it goes. let's just get this shit on the road.

also, just let me have this cigarette without giving me hell. I'll give you hell the next time you eat a cookie or a fried potato chip if you harass me one more time. I decided i won't buy unless i have exactly enough money in change. That means i have to use cash and gather change in order to buy cigs. that means no debit card. That means a long time between buys and i think that is sufficient. i think that is fucking alright. i've lasted three days without freaking out over a cigarette and i think i want to enjoy some with coffee, then that's fine with me for right now. I really will not buy them with that godforsaken, soul-sucking, money wretch of a plastic card.

it's not the rejection that has bothered me. It's the reaction. ok, i got rejected. that sucks, to say the least. i can get over rejection; i'm confident enough in myself to not get too bent out of shape about it. Think, would i have had the guts to tell it like it is without knowing the negative outcome was a possibility? No- what has bothered me is your obvious discomfort in even sitting beside me after i spilled my guts. I barely had time to finish my statement before you got up and left. Ironic, considering i also voiced that my biggest fear was not the rejection itself, but what you did; get up and leave me sitting on that porch with my god damn heart on my sleeve and offering me nothing but an unmistakable goodbye. Actually, there was not a goodbye. Just a flee. Damn you.

just a side note, i feel like the water has been running upstairs for a really long time. I feel like it was forgotten.

so, i will tell you like it is, again. I will not be scathing. i will not be sarcastic. I will cut the shit once again and i will be sincere. It's the least i can do and what the hell does it matter at this point? what's the worst that could happen? Awkwardness? Well, that's already occurred and i would rather make one last attempt at relieving that in the best way i know how. So, i will tell you. I will sympathize and tell you i've been in your situation before and yet i am friends with those i have rejected. Every. Single. One of them. Why should this be any different? Throw me a bone, cut me some slack, give me a break and all other related idioms. I am the one who had their feelings hurt. You are the one who just got "flattered."
post comment

[06 May 2008|11:56pm]
'i'm flattered"

i'm sure you are. In the meantime, i feel like shit.
post comment

[01 May 2008|07:04pm]
another day. another person who just doesn't know how to drop some balls and face what's in front of them. and another who just doesn't know when to shut their mouth.

congrats; for once in over 10 years of marriage, your husband paid for shorts for his son. Over ten years and not once has this occurred. So congrats, stepfather, for being a decent father long enough to pay maybe 10 dollars for a pair of shorts. You deserve a real treat for that because i'm sure it just broke your balls. it must be real hard waking up to sit on that couch and watch hours of television just to go to sleep, wake up and do it all over again for a set amount of government money each day. taxpayers give money to my stepfather to allow him to sit on his ass. So in a way, my mom pays for him to live the hard-knock, couch potato lifestyle.
post comment

[14 Apr 2008|07:35pm]
[ mood | tired ]

don't just leave
with your fingers on the keys
sitting like we've done
on the dirt by the trees

you've given no release
you're there in the breeze
oh, how you laugh
i try to swim in your seas

come wait with me
find your place in my skies
where planes shade our skin
and the clouds fog our eyes

post comment

[02 Apr 2008|09:50pm]
i’ve grown so tired of waking to bricks
their patterns enrage me
and render me with envy
their solidity can withstand a hurricane
the big bad wolf will fail
with it’s huff puff blow
their presence is unwavering
how dare they mock
my pebbles my straw
how dare their audacity
their coarse apathy
their carelessness of whether or not
there is rain or shine
oh, I envy them
I will burn and peel
in the sun while they bathe and bake
i want to break them and smash them
but without proper tools
i’m left to merely lay my cheek
to the grit and think about what time it is
I can’t stand my own skin
a will has left me ready, but in hiatus
I could find a way through but I’m not sure
will I be ok if there is nothing?
can I still brush my teeth in the morning if for once
i crush those unwavering, fettering protectors?
i long for your trespassing
no matter of smoke or endless ash
post comment

[13 Mar 2008|08:38pm]
[ mood | hurt ]

alright people, let's get something straight:

You say something to me, i take it seriously. I take it personally. If you don't want me to take something seriously or personally, then DONT. FUCKING. SAY IT.

post comment

lol, i make myself laugh sometimes [10 Mar 2008|11:52pm]
[ mood | artistic ]

MY America: For Allen Ginsberg

America there is a flag hanging from a plane.
Three beers, 17 cigarettes and one too many Smirnoffs.
I need a derby pin to eat and my pants are too tight.
I don’t enjoy cellulite.
America when will your conscience bother you?
The Chik-Fil-A is now open on Sundays.
I think I’d like Canada if it weren’t for Celine Dion and
a man with a crutch poked me in the foot while I was watching some Chinese men eat Big Macs and I burnt my ankle with my cigarette when i was startled by the man with the broken leg and a radio commercial was selling Chile’s Baby Back Ribs and a jet flew by and rattled my rib cage.

America that made more sense than you.
I can’t look up without tripping over my feet

America I have a problem
I have some screws loose and I can’t find the Phillips.
I litter every day and I don’t regret it.
I’ll worry about my mess when you worry about yours.
Every boy I’ve dated has been foreign and I can’t tell my mom.
She gets muti-cultural experience once a year in Dr. Umant’s office at Bluegrass Cardiology,
Angelina adopted another Ethiopian child while a small black boy dies from deviated shrapnel on 32nd and Market.
Wynnona was arrested again for shoplifting.
I should have listened more to Al Gore but he does have fabulous powerpoints.
Global warming may kill us all but at least we will be rich when it does.
I learn more about Anna Nicole than the Iraq war and my mom listens more to Dr. Phil than her therapist.
Oprah made me read a book recently and I hated it.
All I need a cigarette and I don’t have a lighter.

America why am I so thirsty when I’ve been drinking all day?

America what can I do?
Where can I go?
You sell wars like you sell toothpaste and you don’t even have the decency to give me a dryer that doesn’t steal my socks.
Who needs socks anyway.
The popular magazines tell me that pink is my color and those pants would look better with these shoes and this purse will match your shirt and your man will be pleased if you’d only wear a thong and quit worrying so much about the skin underneath.

I like the color green and these pants look fine without those shoes and I don’t carry a purse and who needs a man if all I have to do is wear a thong to please him. I value more in a person than the type of underwear they prefer and I expect the same.
By the way, I like socks.

I guess I’m not very popular.

America guess what.
Your children are having sex
Viagra can make a man hard but birth control can make a girl a slut
this is very true America
I feel like a t-shirt cliché;
I spoke the truth and all I got was this lousy New Testament, a free 12 month subscription to Today’s Christian and a WWJD bracelet.

I need to eat Snickers before I go to Wal-Mart to buy more Snickers.
I can now drink Diet Coke and get my vitamins at the same time.
McDonalds improved their chicken nuggets and KFC gets protested for animal cruelty.
I’m pretty sure I found a wrong way to eat a Reece’s.
The same day a model dies from anorexia a ten years old girl starves herself ‘cause all she wanted was to be pretty like her and to have her hair and teeth and voice and eyes and skin and flesh and bones.
I can’t figure out who is more flawed.
I want to look like a model too.
I can’t stand the radio but I listen to it everyday.
Madonna somehow feels like a virgin.
Britney Spears broke down and shaved her head and everyone seemed surprised.
Snoop Dogg has a living room full of fine dime brizzles and he’s waiting on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Shizzle.
America this is ridiculous for rizzle.

America stop.
America stop bombing for peace.
Stop blaming your problems on Muslims and stop shelling their dunes.
Stop using radioactive shells and stop using our soldiers as guinea pigs.
Stop ignoring the genocide and stop ignoring the silent baby who has not made a sound since the Janjaweed burned her village and slaughtered her parents and her sister now carries her for miles across the desert to flee the horses and the guns and the bullets and the rape

America just give it up.
You’re just eloquently full of shit and I’m not prepared for this.
I go to jail if I drink a beer.
I nibble my fingers when I’m nervous.
I still watch Disney.
America you can lie to my face and possibly get away with it
It’s happened for years and I’m sick of being fed baby food and given warm baths to put me asleep and shut me up.

I’ve found my lighter and my screwdriver.
I got my WWJD bracelet.
I’ve got my socks.

I’m ready to see fireworks.

post comment

another continuation of SHIT [10 Mar 2008|01:07am]
[ mood | unfortunate ]

i ran to the bathroom
into the stall
i may have thrown up
it may have been forced
but i had to get away
from those kids in the mall
but it wasn't a good plan
useless, it was
i was still caught with the items
i was still cuffed, i was still cuffed

glaring at the man
snarling out remarks
refusing to speak sentences
more than a few words
i didn't need this man
i didn't want his time
i didn't want his medicine
i didn't want his recommendations
but i was there
i sat still, i sat still

this will make you well
this will help you to be
this will help you feel
this little pill
these little pills
so many of those
pills of all forms
i choked down
so many of those little pills
i swallowed them all, i swallowed them all

the game was going
i was going out of my mind
cheering was laughable
playing was dry
i could hardly feel the bat
standing at the plate
i could hardly remember picking up
throwing away the ball
it was only a game and it wouldn't stay
it wasn't much fun, wasn't at all

i sat there a mute
i sat as a coward
someone to stay away from
someone too sad to have a good time
someone too drugged to feel a good time
someone who wished incessantly
for someone to talk to
but i still sat there
a coward and a mute
just watching, just watching

i refused those pills
threw them all away
flushed them down
i cut my ankles
i burned my hands
i scratched my face
i punched what i could
i scraped it all away
that skin covering my knuckles
i cut away, i cut away

post comment

[10 Mar 2008|12:46am]
post comment

[08 Mar 2008|02:26pm]
the snow is glaring
my eyes stuck in a squint
just sitting on my porch
recoiling from a dent
torn between staying
or trying to leave
i guess i'll run away
it's all the same to me
trying to figure it out
wont make me feel much better
it's not worth it to me
to feel constantly weathered
worrying is something
i do without thinking
it's resided in my hands
i can't swim without sinking

the snow is glaring
my car frozen under it's weight
i can't leave my spot
i can't leave this place
if i wanted to
i could stay just 'cause i can
but it's not something i prefer
i prefer living without a plan
spontaneous to the core
i'll jump in my car just to drive
away from the house
not caring where i arrive
wandering about
makes me more at home
i think too much as is
i need to just get up and roam

the snow is glaring
the dogs covered to their ears
but they seem unfazed
they enjoy it, it appears
i can't even sit
without opening my eyes
i'll just let my head fall
on the jeans covering my thighs
i never liked snow
except when i was young
content to let it fall
melting on my tongue
i will tell you this
even though i don't like snow
it's always more enjoyable
when you have nowhere to go
post comment

[08 Mar 2008|02:02am]
there were a bunch of "I <3 U"'s on the cars facing my direction outside my house. it was pretty neat and i felt happy about it even though i don't have a fucking clue who did it or who it was for.

post comment

shit continued [07 Mar 2008|11:32am]
the lines were there
perpendicular and intersecting
pink as my lips
and it meant that everything
was soon to change
new room was fixed
new furniture for a new arrival
new t-shirt at the hospital
i watched the afterbirth fall to a bucket on the floor
i thought no more, i thought no more

a day and a tornado had passed
May twenty-ninth, nineteen ninety-six
eight pounds and a half
of vomit, spit, urine and tears
lay sleeping in my arms when i turned ten
three months, three years
of crying crying crying
i was thrown up on and bit on the cheek
little brother, little brother
i kissed his head, i kissed his head

I wasn't fine, i wasn't well
hell burned in the pit of my stomach
i felt ill, cramped, hardly able to stand
so i sat instead
on a bathroom floor
before my english class
i sat down and then i stood
a warmth spread through my jeans in a sickening brown
i left for the principal's office to get what i need
women bleed, women bleed

stupid girl, stupid bitch
my hair was pulled
i was thrown to a locker
my stomach had widened
my teeth were shackled
my mouth invaded with rubber bands
stabbed in the back by an unstable friend
taunted by a girl who just didn't know when to shut her mouth
the lock i threw flew pass her head
she deserved it, i said
post comment

[07 Mar 2008|12:33am]
i slept next to a mother
who kept a gun on her bed at night
with the bullet on the headboard
and a six year old on the other side
she wasn't any less
than others as alone as she
she was afraid like we are
when we feel as if we only have ourselves
and others to protect
i couldn't leave, i couldn't leave

the gun wasn't near her bed anymore
and neither was i
i was forced out by a new member
that i felt i'd only seen a few times before
and i couldn't sleep without her there
so i fell asleep on the couch
where the tv could be my companion
but i woke to the man telling me to leave
i went back to my room
i couldn't sleep, i couldn't sleep

the rock became my chair
i sat waiting for the bus
hoping she wouldn't be there
that she wouldn't go to school
i stood no chance against her
without my grandmother beside me
but i saw her coming down the street
i wasn't scared and i stood defiant
and when her knuckles struck my ear
i had no fear, i had no fear

eating reece's cups and rescuing the princess
on my 6th year birthday gift
a friend comes and says this is what friends do
what you do to me, i'll do to you
he went first but it wasn't at all
like how my other friends play
it must be something the older kids do
he was more than twice my age, he would know
my cousin saw and ran for help while i lay stripped of clothes
i didn't know, i didn't know

some boy was in my seat and i didn't want him there
he had called me names before
he started the push and i gave it back
got a punch in the mouth, in return
in return i threw him back
bloodied his nose before i was pulled away
i got a high five from my dad
when i got suspended from the bus
my mom just got mad
but i wasn't sad, i wasn't sad
post comment

[29 Feb 2008|09:31am]
why do things only start to work out in bad timing?

I swear. I don't know what to do because shit just doesn't work out the way I want or plan and to get what i want would be hurting other people and i'm just too nice to do that.

I guess i will be fake instead. I hate myself.
post comment

[22 Feb 2008|11:37am]
i feel like punchin a bitch.

that is all.
post comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]