Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!


4.6.99: okay so it's kinda late at night, you're getting a little bored so you just start clicking on random links. you end up at this page that looks really neato. got some nifty graphics, great quotes, lovely little poetic phrases then poof! what do you have here but a little notice from the creator saying, "oops, sorry, but if you want to see my page you're going to have to email me for the url and i'll decide if i want you to see it." what the heck? isn't the whole point of putting your stuff up here so people can see it? hm. i think that might be one of the most irritating things about other little page-people. okay so a few people they know stops by, reads their page, all their little inner ramblings and what-not and then says something about it. or maybe some stranger sees it and says something. yeah, well, so what? really. so the little page-person decides that they don't want to be "censored" anymore so they're going to "censor" their audience. okay, wait a minute. seems like sort of the same thing to me. i mean, you're still being censored however you want to work it. what's the point of doing all this shit if you're just going to hide behide some little facade be it a false name or censoring your audience? i mean. jeeze. why not just put this stuff up and say screw everyone else? i realize right here i'm not really one to talk since i spend quite a majority of my time hiding from people in the real world. i don't hide here and maybe that's the point. i don't see the reason in hiding here. anything you put online is purely voluntary so if you don't want people to see it, well, here's a little hint, how about you just don't put it up at all? yes. well. that's my little rant for the day. it irritates me. it puts me in mind of some sort of little elitest club. so, on the off-chance that anyone still reads this and, that whoever reads this is perhaps considering creating a page of their own, if you want to have a journal but don't want anyone to read it, first off just don't publicize it. that'll take care of that real quick. but if you want to be one of those people that has a nifty little link saying "hey here's my journal you really want to know about me look here" but don't actually want people to read your journal just put up a little notice says "you want to read this email me" and link to your email address. most people are just bored insomniacs who've tired of late-night reruns and infomercials and are half-heartedly zipping through strangers' sites and they'll skip right over you. on the off-chance that someone does want to see it, and is willing to wait for the response, bookmark your little site and all that, and you still don't want them to see it after all that (although bear in mind you owe them something for that sort of determination, or perhaps just excessive boredom) then tell 'em "no." there you go. all you people out there forcing that little bit upon us, well, you're idiots. g'night.

5.6.99: today for the first time in what's seemed like forever i found myself smiling and feeling, if not happy, at least content. it started with a sunset tonight that was simply très magnifique; a nice soft bluey sky with kind of rosy pink clouds pulled across it like bits of cotton. i'd forgotten what summer smelled like. summer nights anyway. i remember last summer taking our laptop out on the porch and operating from there with my faithful mug of tea or coffe and only the months for company. ah that was nice. too bad this year my internet escapades will be restricted to strictly indoors. hm. maybe it'll keep me off the computer more eh? our little taod friend has returned again for yet another year. i saw him hopping along the fence later when i was coming back from watching the sunset fade. hat was rather pleasant too. a little bit of consistency when everything else is all topsy-turvy these days. after that i gave up on the television and house and retreated back down to the driveway to sit on the chevet out there and watch the sky darken. too bad the insects chased me back in. ah well. perhaps later i'll sneak back down and look at the stars if they're out tonight. it's so nice outside..

12.6.99: internet explorer. javascript errors. people who insist on junking their siteds up with loads of really big images. people who don't type out y-o-u. vampire sites you get stuck in for no apparent reason and can't get out of. frames you get stuck in and can't get out of. being disconnected three times in a row. people who go to msgboards simply to advertise whatever they're doing and use html but don't push the little html option. ergh. damn them all.

13.6.99: a lot of people have been taking their sites down. last night i was running through this one webring and almost all of the sites in it were gone or didn't exist or the people were toying with taking them down. it's just not right. these people - most of the ones who're leaving - are the same ones who got chased out of the real world and then here it is again. none of you have the right to go up to someone and berate them or harass them or criticize them for what they think/believe/do/dream/feel/etc. it's not right. i see far too many great shiny people being crushed down and shoved in some corner to be forgotten about these days. and no one seems to care. it's like, yeah so? no there'll be more room for those annoying little clone-y people with sites full of stupid things and links to disney and pictures of their cats or whatever. jesus people look around. the world is filled with these great vibrant artists - poets, painters, musicians, writers - and fabulous organizations for them to gather in and they all seem to be disappearing. just tonight i must have gone through at least ten sites that said "i'm sick of dealing with you people. goodbye" yeah i know. there're people out there who're gonna say, "well they put themselves out there. they asked for it. you should know if you're going to say things like that..." that's the sad part. the horribley disgusting fact about all of this. people getting pushed out because of who they are. this is just... it bothers me. real, true art is becoming a novelty these days and it shouldn't be like that. it's being replaced by artificial fabrications of what "artists" think people will pay to see. and they do, of course, out of fear of seeming "illiterate" or "ignorant" or a million other things. and the real artisits, the ones who churn out heart-wrenching songs and brilliant paintings and oh-so-very real stories and plays and poems, all of them are stuck sitting somewhere in their darkened little rooms or out on the streets or hovering over their computers trying to make people understand who never will, maybe never can. and all these people are slowly disappearing and one day, well, one day they'll be gone and everyone'll look around and wonder why the world's so drab nowadays.

15.6.99: so mgnn left for germany yesterday and dad comes in and wants to know if everything's okay and i just sort of look at him like why wouldn't it be okay. but he says, you know, three weeks is a really long time for you two to be apart i just thought i'd check and see if everything's alright. that just irritates me. they don't think i can make it three freaking weeks on my own. my oh my, such confidence. i managed somehow to make it four months without seeing her and did somewhat alright. not like i have to have someone with me at all times, holding my hand you know so i don't run in front of cars (though if they want someone for that i doubt mgnn's the right person, who's motto is "they'll stop"). i mewan, if they wanted to know if i'd be okay you'd think they would've asked before when we left in september. i guess not though, although apparently mgnn's mom pulled the same thing on her. but like we said, those two, almost one and the same. figures they'd both try to console us. my oh my. three weeks. it only hit me last night though when i thought of something to tell her and realized i couldn't call her today. not really big though. it was just sort of strange. of course, much has been that way these past couple of days with living on popcorn and soup, juice and late night television. and perhaps i'll even get some things accomplished with her gone, you know, without those horrendously long phone calls abotu nothing simply because we have nothing else to do. mm. yeah. already doing a few things. ha. maybe i'll even get some more poems or something on here. something besides journal entries anyway.

21.6.99: there's something to be said for simple layouts. just came from a site, beautiful really, very aesthetically pleasing. just confusing. frames and such are not for me i guess. complicated ones anyway with a million different little boxes to choose from. of course i'm the type of person who doesn't like too many choices. nice and simple. right.
father's day come and gone. friday night i was hit with inspiration (3:30 am, as usual. inspiration is rather punctual i've noticed). having nothing else i wrapped up a load (7, to be exact) of books i didn't want and dad had liked took a picture i drew, framed it and said there. worked perfectly. and i got a rather nice dinner at cj's for it as well.
chess and basketball. both of 'em are just really bad.
15 days left. *resident dreamer does little happy dance*

25.6.99: i think sometimes i convince myself that if i go around reading others' literary inspirations something in me might catch on and i'll be able to scribble out a few more bits. i know it won't ever really happen that way though. i still get ideas; these great wonderful sparkly little things that dance in fron of me then skip away. but there's either not enough story there or there is but i just couldn't pull it off. i was reading this book of poetry the other day (i've started reading more, fancy that) and i got this idea for a totally smashing storyline, plot characters conflict everything. but i didn't do anything. i just sat there and kept reading and watched it fade away into storyland 'cause i knew i couldn't/wouldn't do anything with it. maybe it found a good home in some productive person's mind and someday in my wanderings i'll find it in a bookstore or on a napkin in some cafe or scrawled in someone else's notebook and i'll be content to know it at least got written down which is more than i could do. these past couple of weeks i've pretty much been living on carrots and apple juice, so pretty that, apple juice, in my cranberry-coloured plastic glass (oh my). such a swirling bubbly rosy-honey nectary thing.. and i could be this little bird and come and drink from it ... oh my. maybe i've been cooped up in this house too long.. oh well. dad was thoughtful enough to buy some breakfasts-in-a-box for me. i ate the pancake one a bit ago. couldn't stomach the sausages though soi i fed them to the dog. it smelled like mcdonald's when i brought it out of the microwave. reminded me of littler days... hm. and so this is what my life has become. books (vonnegut's galapagos, raising hell, les miserables, and some science fiction anthology...ah...new worlds), music (goo goo dolls somewhat muted in the background with the occasional change to counting crows, bb king, ben folds five and tori amos), carrots, apple juice, popcorn, and of course, just a bit of late night telley. that's it.
twelve more days, kiddies.
(oh and btw your resident dreamer is quite glad the spurs won that game tonight so the finals are [for the time] over and she can be freed of the horror of the nanny and everybody loves raymond reruns)

oh that glorious sadness
that brings me
to my knees
 13.8.99: hm. i didn't think i'd ever find myself back here. i'd sort of resigned myself to abandoning my little creation here and seeing how it took over itself. i guess every parent has to check in once in awhile, though, eh? i'm feeling a bit emotionally depleted though. just wrote two very high-strung scenes for my ongoing people. as well as a poem i wrote in my head while at the "burning bush" reading this evening. and i thought i couldn't write anymore. i was surprised by the prose-stuff though. scared me a little... i'm not used to being so emotional with my characters. hm. i've acquired a new kitty (aziraphale, but generally just zira) who looks very much like my little elkinsian kitty max and a canary (mr simon) who very patiently puts up with zira's antics. on monday i'm acquiring a housemate (meagunn's coming does a little dance of joy 'cause she's going to see her sandman comics again, not to mention that mgnn'll be here as well, just an added bonus). very mellow here right now. alex wrote a neat little poem 'bout me that made me smile the other day. i was glad for it. i haven't smiled in quite some time, though i think more out of a forgetfulness to than anything else. i've had other things on my mind. but that was a nice little surprise at 2 in the am. ach. i ache, but for what i don't know.
a somewhat contemplative little razi

12.11.99: scout's report - whitman is alive and kicking and roaming the streets of galway. so is oscar wilde, by the by.

23.12.99: herself has returned. what else could drive me back to this place after so much time but being on my own once again? ah me.. so i sit here in my house-no-longer-by-the-shore, rain pouring down outside with both delirium and zira (the resident felines here) in separate corners for the time being ruminating on my new-found "freedom". it got to the point while she was here that i began to question my sanity, wonder if we'd ever not been together...and this morning i though how strange it'd be to wake up without her in the next bed over. i guess tomorrow I'll find out though. strange things happen here in eire and it's hard to define exactly what or how... but listen to me, with my dazed, drugged stupor sitting here typing words when i can't even remember this afternoon too clearly. that's what happens when yer sinuses aren't to fond of ye. maybe i'll go do other things in this place... poor thing's been neglected too long i think. perhaps sustaining it will in some way help me sustain myself. or maybe not. i'll have a lot of spare time on my hands now that's for sure... my first play went well this year. "more light," a charming little tale of fourteen concubines locked in a tomb with their dead emperor and what they do to survive it. had it's hang ups, as most things will, and the script wasn't great either but somehow we managed to pull it off and get rather good reviews too. so there y'go. wonder what morgan's going to be up to in the new year (which, by the way, is not the new millennium, no matter what those other fools say... it's 2001 that's the real start by god). i don't know either. any suggestions? stay tuned for more in the wonderful saga of the couch-ridden cratur (who also needs a new name btw if you have any suggestions for that...)

29.december.99: little changes here in my silent frozen private hell. i walk the landscape with perpetual foggedglazed eyes seeing only what i've only seen and missing what isn't there. a million words to express an open floodgate is not enough and yet persistently, almost stubbornly, true to the nature attributed to my countrymen, i try anyway. what is a world without impossibilities to be conquered? why do we not show these silly people how silly they really are not realizing what can be done with all our magnificent technology and money? i hate technology. it robs and robs and robs, taking you apart bit by bit while fooling you into thinking it's giving you something back. technology is nothing more than a greek god given too much power. what say bacchus to control over the minds of almost now two full generations? and there's always more to come and more and more children will go from being raised by the tv to being raised by the cinema to being raised by their own personal laptops and cellphones. too bad our magnificent technology and all our splendid pretty baubled money can't figure out a way to just turn. .it.. ..all... ...off....

?.1.99: why can't i forget things? how long has it been? over a year... why can't i just let it go? hm. why indeed, you silly girl. just running through too many roundabouts gotta close your eyes and grab 'em and yell "go!" 'cept you keep missing don't you? reach for them and run and then yell "go!" and you're on one side and they're on the other and you just don't know how to get back across... and you're angry at them for not coming too. silly girl prowling your cafés and your bookshops and drinking coffee with those every restless eyes flitting here and there searching for signs. relax, sweetheart. it'll fix itself soon.

still-don't-know-what-day-it-is: okay. this guy - brian bliss he's calling himself - has recently signed my guestbook with rather ambiguous questions, and before this emailed my pet organization (fas) with the same sort of questions and both times we(and i) have responded with an email demanding (well the first one asked sort of nicely) to know what he's talking abt, to no avail. now, being the normal, sane, rational person that i am, if i had a question for someone i'd well, email them if i cld (and how many places do you see mine, hm? not like it's plastered all over the place or anything) and do more than just ask 'where did you hear about us?' without saying who 'us' is (and i know the url in the guestbook says fallen angels society, something that irritates both it's originators to no end, and the link doesn't work and when i fixed it i got sent to FASDallas so don't ask me...) and giving some background. personally i think that's only polite. i still haven't received any answers to either email so if anyone knows who this brian bliss fellow is cld you please email me? (and look here i'll even write it out watercoloured@somethingorother.com - and no, that's not some sort of fake address. that's what it really is). thank you.
a rather miffed little person

february 20 2000: well hello. i deign to slip into this place once more. not like anyone else does, but hey, whatever. y'know the drill. anyway. i am at the mercy of the gateway people. computer chord got fizzled and now we have to wait for another to be shipped to us which was supposed to arrive wednesday but then, when does anything ever arrive when it's supposed to? my big news is that i won 2nd place in a one-act play competition for this funny little thing with no purpose but to amuse me. anyway got 250 pounds for it so i s'pose that's okay. but that's my big news.

<<<_fiddler's green