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Wormjerky

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Kalifornia [09 Jan 2013|11:12pm]
To be clear from the start I have never been to California.
however, I have lived there for 2 and a half years.

California, being a state, has been my painful state of mine during this duration.

How does one compete with where they have never been?
My dilemma is that I thought the struggle had always been geographical,
not the state of mind of what California does to others.

Historically, it has been the state of dreams, and though dreams are not reality, this is what
California means to me...a state of unreality, dreams lost and hope that still exists after you visit
this place of surreal illusion that plagues the drifters who didn't dare enough

That's the problem when you leave California, one believes that they didn't try hard enough, find the right agent, wife, lover, or career. I don't recall the love's quest of finding the meaning of life, in a geographical place. However, part of the dilusion is expecting California to have life's answer's, and at times, at the expense of the ones that will help you find all the meaning to life's questions, without a geographical place.

some would say..it's the beautiful weather. If weather is always beautiful, what time of year do you suffer with your thoughts? Some might say that there is more opportunity there...if you rely on one place for opportunity, you will ignore the rest of opportunities elsewhere. Talent is lush and vast and more than in one place.

It's a myth to believe to believe that anyone greater was there, that opportunity is Only there or that love is there. All of these things are everywhere. The reason California succeeds is because people go there to find it. The problem, is that it is everywhere, and the ex-Cali's just can't recognize it.

Here, in the brutual midwest, Love, talent, and illusion are still present. I'll stay here in the cold, winter months to reflect...the slowing down of life, that is out of our control, to reflect on warmer places like California. Finding happiness now, where we are, is all that has ever mattered.
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[29 Oct 2009|01:05pm]
How do you start the saddest love story that you have ever written? Does it begin when you met or when you went your separate ways? Does it begin in the midst, with the glimpses of happiness, tears and confusion?

How do you start a love story that never begun?

Two timelines two different people. One timeline was heading to the beginning from the end and the other..from the end to the beginning. So why did she get the backward timing? What happened when they met in the middle?

When one told the other to keep moving forward, the other was moving forward...in the opposite direction. The middle then, became the explosion...the etheral nucleus of what is now.

She didn't learn how to love again until it was too late. He always knew how to love, but needed confidence in himself. Both taught each other well...and when happiness was possible for both...it was time to go.

So now...being the now. We're both ready for what we wanted all along. The world will present itself now.
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[07 Apr 2009|06:12pm]
I also wanted to add that Olyvia can now tie her own shoes. I am proud of her. I even accused her of not being the one who tied her shoes. Her cousins were around so I thought one of them tied them for her and requested that she give me a shoe tying re-enactment. She did. I love being her mother, everyday. But days like this really really make me happy I'm her mother.
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[07 Apr 2009|05:49pm]
It's been 62 weeks since I've updated. I need an eternal format so I'm going back to this method. Hopefully daily.

I went to school today prepared to talk about Terrorism in my ethics class. We had a lot of good arguments/debates about the definition of terrorism and its impact on the U.S. There were suggestions that a country could terrorize its own people if by definition terrorism is defined as suppression of people and class placement. Murder is what was more commonly associated with it by definition...random murder. I made the argument that I believed some countries relied on terrorists attacks as so to be heard, or have the people of the country attacked beg their government to protect their people from further attacks, by doing so the government is forced to recognize the terrorist itself. A small country for instance could be bullied by a super-power government because it doesn't have the military means to defend itself...so they make themselves heard by small terrorists acts rather than war...simply because they cannot wage war against the "super-power" country because they do not have the means to do so.

My logic class cancelled.

Met up with Travis for tea at the Abbey. We discussed the politics of the day and our fathers tours in Vietnam. Oddly enough a ring came in from my uncle...asking me to find out my dad's information about being in Nam. He wanted to know his rank, in and out date and so on..so that someone could make a plaque for him. Although, I think it is a nice gesture, I feel like my father has lied to me and some other people about what he did in Nam. I'm reluctant to go diggin because I don't want to find proof of these lies. I think he's overly mysterious about it and that he didn't do what he implies. My mother said once in a snarly state of mind that my father just worked in the post office part of the Army and was never in real combat.

It's day 67 since I've had a drink. Sobriety has had its ups and downs. Mostly ups I suppose. Monday is nearing and I"ll be on my own with this. It will no longer be a forced sobriety. People are anticipating this. Travis mentioned he was anxious to have a beer with me because he's never seen me drink. I've only known Travis during my sobriety. I told him that the drinking Melinda is not all that awesome and that I don't want to go back to that state of being.

It weighs heavy on my mind and today as I was pondering about what I'm going to do, I was faced with what could be me. At the bus stop a small, disheveled homeless man was in handcuffs. A bottle of vodka sat on the roadway in front of him. Between the policecar and himself. I know he was going to jail for public intox. His head kept dipping up and down and he would look at the officer and give a dumbfounded grin from time to time. He doesn't know what's quite going on. It was really cold and windy today, I thought that he would at least be out of the wind for the night...but his pattern will continue after he sobers up. The most frightening thing is that it was a vision of what could be me.

What do you do with this sort of reality? Do you stay within it, STONE COLD sober? No brain pills, xanax, lithium....(there's one my mother was on..) no weed, alcohol...anything to check out of this reality? The stone cold sober people are uneasy and pissy. I know, I wait on some of them and they seem miserable. The stiff churchy types, they don't smile at each other when they eat, no one jokes around and they treat their families like strangers.

I had an argument with Creyton today. I really love him, and when he's not around I think he's the most perfect person in the world. I feel so overly grateful for him sometimes that it leaves me feeling undeserving. Perhaps its why I argue with him...to bleed out some inperfections, or that I'm annoyed at his own observation of his own perfections that it pisses me off. He points out my flaws, tirelessly. Accusing me of getting walked on by friends and family and not standing up for myself. I really don't think I'm like that. He says it hurts my self esteem and confidence and further pisses me off to tell me I'm not confident.

He has his faults, they're just not obvious like mine.
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The Ode to Mel [27 Jan 2008|10:48pm]
An extremely credible Jester that has been my Muse for 5 days, waxed this very delightful thing.




An Ode to Mel

A friendly reply
from whom I did flirt
She longs for one to care
no heart shall he hurt

I am fit for this job
excited, primed and perkey
She could use a smile or three
but what the hell is wormjerky

A rush through the door
and a welcomed hug
Follow me this way dear
your beer is in the mug

I like what I see
and love what I hear
So off to Rock Bottom
for just one more beer

Then her kindness shows
any less would be a pity
To her place I will travel
but only to meet schmitty

I awake when she rises
and quietly walks away
A thought to myself
sweet is the start to this day

Now I've read her blogs
and truely met my match
But these words I've composed
are totally fucking waxed!
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[15 Jul 2007|10:41am]
It recently occurred to me that I have not disposed my Myspace page to my most beloved long time LJ friends...that's a monstrosity.

www.myspace.com/wormjerky

Let me know who you are..as I don't add random people.
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[05 Jul 2007|12:51pm]
I want to be lied to

For the deliverance of my laughter
To..the deformity of your stick figure
drawings on bar napkins

No one has understood the term
There will be snacks in the way
in that way
you work your southern voodoo

Puppy eyes
Kitten purrs
Mechanical birds

Made in china
Made in china
Made in china

The poet says 3 lines later
Count to five
Fred walks in

You said

Bumble bee cell phones
pentagram symbols

Today was supposed to be opposite day
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[29 Jun 2007|02:07pm]
I want to be lied to

In the deliverance of my laughter
To..the deformity of your stick figure
drawings on bar napkins

No one has understood the term
There will be snacks in the way
that you work your southern voodoo

Puppy eyes
Kitten purrs
Mechanical birds

Today was supposed to be opposite day
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[24 Jun 2007|02:30pm]
Nine to five square

Water cooler conversationalist

I can't
I can't
I can't

Go blindly into the streets,
In my SUV with kids in tow
making my way to soccer practice
while constantly kissing you providing ass

I envy the homeless
not the rich

For that reason alone

I will not be your bitch
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I saw this live in Chicago..how fortunate [03 Jun 2007|06:23am]
Cool On Your Island, by the band Y Kant Tori Read was commercially released by Atlantic Records in 1988 as a 7" vinyl single and a cassette single. Two versions of a promotional 7" vinyl were also released, one with light blue labels and one with dark blue labels. The song was a commercial failure and received absolutely no critical comment. After the failure of the first single by the band, the label did not feel expenses were warranted to film a music video.

The promotional 7" vinyl singles feature a double A-side of an edited version of the track. There was also a promotional CD single issued for the Phil Collins song "A Groovy Kind of Love". Inexplicably it featured "Cool on Your Island" as tracks 2 and 3; the album and edit versions. Ironically the track would go on to be a favourite for Amos to perform at live concerts later in her career.

Amos has told a story regarding an incident where the release of this single may have kept her out of harm. She states that between the failure of "Y Kant Tori Read" and her successful solo career she was detained by German police while travelling because a friend (and co-traveller) had marijuana on her person. When the police were interrogating her, she stated she was a musician and that she had been "on a record with Phil Collins." As he was extremely popular there at the time, she was set free. (She told this story on The Rosie O'Donnell Show.)
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[15 Apr 2007|09:06am]
Constant beauty
Constant beauty

I'll forgive ..give you the amend
distant myself from from the purple friend
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Just begun [15 Apr 2007|09:03am]
Reediting..the end

I'll make your life a living hell

Constant Beauty
Constant Beauty Not

I'm left with a weakness of hate I cannot bare

Now you're left with this
Small
penis
complex
up here
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Edit [31 Mar 2007|01:32pm]
I edited my little rant I previously put in this journal and decided to read it at the Corner Coffee Shop during an open mic poetry reading. It turned out really well.

I know the game, I know I create my own reality.
I just tell myself all I have to do is get through this
little
painful
stumble

Wake up girl, don't feel rejected.
I lose myself in this positive facade.
All I really want to say is
Fuck It All...
and I really mean Fuck it All

A bottle of Stoli a splash of cran

Time is the constant barrier to this healing
Quantum leap, please?
I wish he wouldv'e stuck around to see that beauty resurface again.
He stood in his own way of seeing it

It was always there

Battle to battle I hate to lose.
I did it right this time...
but
You only get turned on
when I...take out the trash
when I...fold the laundry
when I...rehang my wet towel

You can't judge me by those things
My philosophy paper stayed on your desk for THREE MONTHS
begging you begging you to see some of my depth

It was always there

You loved the depth you thought you first saw
It was always there

I want to walk through those gardens again
I want to rewrite those words again..when you inspired me
I always wanted to talk about long lost religious arts
Just not with you

I thought you were listening that day in the garden
What I realize is that I wanted someone to LISTEN
I wanted it so bad that I played make believe and diluded myself into thinking you did.

You didn't listen to me that day.
That was the day that I shouldv'e known
That all that is now would be here again.

You never saw my depth

It was always there
It was always there
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Meow [24 Mar 2007|12:07pm]
I haven't written in this for a long time. I feel bad. Like I left a certain depth to me in the middle of no where. I've begun going to poetry readings and things of the like. I lost my deepest depth and I'm finding it through a strange awakening. I hope to write again. I hope to bring this inner hurting to surface and not let it fall on deaf ears. I'm in pain and desperately need to heal.

I know the game, I know I create my own reality. I just have to get through this little painful stumble. I want to wake up and not feel rejected. I lose myself in this positive facade. All I really want to say is Fuck it All..and I mean really fuck it all.

Time is the constant barrier to my healing. I wish I could do a Quantum Leap. I wish he wouldv'e stuck around to see that beauty resurface that he first saw. He stood in his own way of seeing it. It was always there...

Battle to battle I hate to lose. I loved him so much. I did it right this time I tell myself..but, you you only get turned on when I....take out the trash
when I ...fold the laundry
when I...rehang my wet towel

You can't judge my depth by those things
I had my Philosophy paper on your desk for three months asking you to see some of my depth and you never read it

You loved the depth you first saw and now its gone
It was always there

I want to walk through those gardens again when I first wrote my vows of love to you...when you inspired me..I want to relive love like the first time all over again.

I deluded myself in that garden

I thought you were listening and now I realize...I just wanted someone to LISTEN and you never did...I wanted it SOOOO bad that I played make-believe and diluded myself into thinking you did.

Come to think of it...you didn't listen to me that day. That was the day I should've known that all that is now would be here again.

You never saw my depth.

It was always there
It was always there
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[27 Jan 2007|12:34pm]
I managed to snag a flask from some 19 year old in the bar last night. I said "look, man, when I was your age I did stupid stuff like this, and because I did stuff like that I'll just let you walk out of here, but I'm confiscating your flask"

The part that disturbs me is that next Friday I'll be 30, and I've already used the phrase "when I was your age".

I woke up this morning and noticed some finer lines on my face.
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[14 Nov 2006|01:05am]
Odd...It's been a blast from the past week. People I've lost touch with are vicariously talking through people to try and reach me. Odd.

I made a pot roast last week. I think I was trying to convince myself that I was done with meat. I teeter on eating vegetarian and eating meat. I've never liked handling it. I've never been much of a fan of beef in the first place. I never eat hamburgers and things like that, however I eat chicken and seafood. It was quite the horrific slab of beef too or maybe I just wanted it to look bad. Not sure how I feel about it.

I'm supposed to be writing a research paper on ADHD, but I can't seem to get around to typing it up. I've checked my email...IM'd some people. I'll just say I got "into" my research and couldn't type up a paper. I have an A in the class as it stands and only have about a month left of this sememster. It's a solid A too. I could really just get a bad grade on this and still maintain a low A...pfft.

I have to study for a test in Philosophy too...slacking
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[13 Oct 2006|03:54pm]
A couple of words I think that need to be used less excessively or be stricken from our vocabulary. Coincidence and boredom. Both words I believe are impossible.

There are billions of things in the world to keep me interested. It's rare that even with no stimuli in a dark room I could think about something so entirely that "boredom" would never cross my mind.

Coincidence doesn't happen. Interlinking events. A message. The way you play out your do, or a way to look at something. Nothing is coincidence there are reasons for everything.

I'll substitute those two words with two words not talked about enough. Quantum Physics.
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[02 Oct 2006|03:16pm]
Ahh, I needed a break in writing my final draft on a research paper, AIDS in Africa.

This is my least favorite paper to write. It's depressing. Compiled with my Philosophy class I've become rather skeptical of the world these past several weeks.

I did realize that keeping this journal has been good for me. I've gotten too custom to my sloppy writing though. I hate writing about things other than what I want to write about. However, its better that I write than to not write at all.

I'm not really happy with Ivy Tech. Thank God I have only one semester left before I transfer to IU. I know community colleges aren't that challenging but, I had 7th grade math and english classes that were far more challenging than these classes. I'm going to shoot myself in the foot for saying that next year.

Gotta run....Uganda is waiting for me to write about their problems.
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[12 Aug 2006|05:04am]
I'm a fan of boozing poets..so be it.

But to be Bukowski and have a grave stone that reads..."Don't try"..

I swear it...it kills me in laughter on the endless meainings of it.
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[12 Aug 2006|04:49am]
Let's play a game...

Pick the major that would best suit me.
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