What I really want
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madihoo's LiveJournal:
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| Friday, March 14th, 2008 | | 12:16 pm |
the sun smells like vanilla and orchids. beneath it my eyes glow gold. will the night shine so bright? | | Monday, March 10th, 2008 | | 1:32 pm |
The Passing of Time is a Tremendous and Generous Gift
Reading the former entries, my immediate response is deep sympathy for that woman. She was clearly worn, empty, and insecure. My current state, I am happy to say, is much improved. I have removed a great deal of, what we called in poly-sci, "pork" from my life. I can no longer even imagine tolerating the events that occured and were documented in this diary. My standards following graduation seem to have sky-rocketed to new heights; and I am the better for it. Update: I now live in Santa Fe, NM. Zachary is a distant relaionship memory, though we still keep in touch as friends. He is happily engaged in a romantic relationship with a young woman in Portland and still lives with his parents, though he is now employed. I am in a relationship with a very sweet young man (26) although am debating whether or not to keep him around; not because he is abusive or untrustworthy. I have simply realized in the past few months that I either want to be single or in a partnership with someone of equal or better stature regarding employment, education, self-care, etc. I also have discovered that I don't particularly enjoy dating men in their twenties. 32 and up seems to work the best. This change from hypo-emotional to calculating and contemplative occured recently and quickly. Who knows how or why; but I feel like an iron rod was slipped into my core, replacing the soft pulp previously living there. With this recent graduation to improved personal standards, I have also been privy to new advancements in my education and career. I have been promoted to a bar manager at a 5 star casino and resort. I continue working at the G. O'Keeffe Museum and have been effective in my post. I live in a beautiful, be it small apartment near downtown Santa Fe, and have also discovered that, in my opinion, my physical beauty increases with my age. I was a pretty girl, but I was frightened, and in denial about my own abilities. I am turning into and will be a beautiful and powerful woman. Of this I am certain, as I witness my mutation occur. I am learning to take what I want and accept what is given to me. Upon moving to Santa Fe I discovered the wonder of having many lovers; some of whom were wealthy. I enjoyed the benefits of being a beautiful and confident woman in my social life and am considering returning to that entertainment, though not in an intimate way this time. I have decided that outings and dates are quite enough. And in my newfound sense of self, I need never spend a weekend alone or even with the same person every time; Or I can choose to focus that time on myself (the next few days will be for that purpose; my current dear has been exhausting me). It is a wonderful thing to discover even a small amount of your own power. This is something I now know that many young people have had, but I never did. Tim, Sarah, Tara, and Mary come to mind. Now it is my turn to join the ranks with those individuals who would inspire me to something better; something suited to Me. | | Wednesday, April 26th, 2006 | | 6:32 pm |
Perhaps god and love and all that matters to human beings, their hairy bodies and beehive hairdos, perhaps all of this is just momentary, a decade thing, something that moves beyond, extends farther than the fingertips and never really brushes the skin - - is that why we love it? I had sex recently, and it felt like, well, penetration, but I found myself wondering what it would be like to be on his side, with the pole between my legs instead of the pole inside my cervix, and I wondered, almost aloud, would it feel better to thrust? Or is thrusting just another kind of exercise, as he holds himself in pushup and I feel him working hard while I relax...I like relaxing but something about it seems unfair, and then I remember the trash I left sitting by the door and o shit I have to pick up the knives from the sharpeners before my essay tonight. Then who thrusts and who receives doesn't matter as much, and suddenly it's over and I'm moving towards the door, a waffle in my hand. But the waffle was one of those frozen-toaster kinds and it grew cold quickly despite my warm hands craddling it, surrounded by hot syrup and blue blood, and isn't that amazing that blood only turns red when it reaches oxygen, as though oxygen and blood mate upon contact to make the color red - - is that how red was born? Is that why the rose is the flower of love: blood and oxygen are constantly fucking within the petals? Something to think on, especially with a beer and 25 pages to write before Thursday....and who decided writing papers was a good way to serve life? Am I living when I hunch before a computer - - or am I just planning for a tomorrow that might never arrive? I love you all, by the way, and would love you all in every way if only it was socially acceptable. xoxoxox Madison | | Tuesday, March 14th, 2006 | | 3:50 pm |
I've been watching alot of romance films lately, and then recalling them to fantasize in related classes: for example, I thought about Liz Taylor and Richard Burton in "Cleopatra" while my teacher talked about "Antony and Cleopatra" by Shakespeare. I thought of this highly romantic mystery film in which one lover is a dancer, and the other is a photographer during my dance rehearsel this morning. And for two days I have had "Before Sunset" with Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke on the brain, as I fantasize about their soul-met love. I don't know why I have a sudden fascination with romantic movies, nor why I think if them constantly throughout the day. Maybe I want to believe in idealized love. Maybe I seek love in fiction for fear of looking for it myself. Or, most likely, I simply do not think idealized love is realistically possible, so I get my dose of it in movies. I really don't know if I will or could ever love someone as completely as these fictional film characters do. I am a real person....isn't that a shame. I am grown too cynical for 20. Maybe i should read instead...Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde sounds good. | | 9:12 am |
it's been awhile
I have decided I will go about getting a piano ASAP. I already have plans for cutting a cd, whether successful or not is not the point. hmm..Update: I have found a strange peace with Zac. I refuse to say I am in a relationship. I no longer feel the desire to fully committ myself to anyone, let alone possess a title. I, instead, want to just enjoy people and experiences as they come to me. I am going to VA and NY for spring break to see my sisters, dad, and my dear friends at NYU and SLC. I wonder how this visit to my father will be. Undeniably awkward as usual, no doubt. There seems to be a peculiar tension between us...as though he cannot entirely place me as his daughter, and I cannot wholly accept him as "daddy." At times it even seems as though he is checking me out. Gross, I know, but unmistakably present. I've gained 16 pounds in 2 1/2 years. Sometimes it bothers me, other times I feel womanly, as strange as that may seem. I was 124 lbs. in highschool. Four pounds from being underweight for my height. I reached 118 once, but found that too skinny. Now I am about 140. I need to lose a few, but part of me just doesn't care. And I refuse to return to what I did in highschool to achieve that kind of weight. I recall eating nothing but fat-free bean soup, yams, tuna, and the occasional piece of bread or fish for near to three years. I was never hungry, but I also was not fully nourished. I got sick all the time. Now I never get sick. I remember being afraid of food; experiencing anxiety at the thought of consuming carbs (any and all), fat, dairy, sugar, etc. Just about every other food group. I would choose not to eat rather than eat something that might make me "fat." Oh christ...to think I actually thought I was fat. Girls...why do girls do that to themselves? Make something like food, which can bring great pleasure and nourishment, a thing to fear and reject? Now I enjoy what I eat. I look forward to meals. I feel full. hmmm...but a middle ground is needed. I do have bigger boobs though...that's always good. I used to barely fill an A. Now I am between a B and C. I love having boobs! I have always been fascinated with boobs, and now I have my own to look at. Kidna nice at times. Portland is grey all the time. I want light. I miss sunshine. I will move to CA for my masters. I can't take this weather for too many more years. I want to visit my friend Alex in CO I want to go to Mexico with Mary I want to meet so may people I lose count of them I want to talk to people I want to drink cocktails with handsome strangers I want to see Tara in Florence I want to go to Ireland and visit the family farm I want something striking to happen..something wonderfully huge I want to dance again I want to sing again I want to paint again O, the time. Where did it go? Will it spare some of itself to join me? To deliver to my cause? ok...stuff to do. Current Mood:  contemplativeCurrent Music: Sia "Breathe Me" | | Monday, February 13th, 2006 | | 5:51 am |
so uh...it's been decided. I'm actually insane. Current Music: d.c. sleeps alone tonight - the postal service | | Thursday, February 2nd, 2006 | | 1:14 am |
The most boring person in the most lovely form
I have to believe there is something better. Zachary keeps buying me sweet things, but for some reason, as in the past, it just doesn't mean anything to me, maybe because he buys things for everybody. He thinks that some fancy dinners, flowers, and an "i love you" mug from starbucks will clear the air. Why is he so dense? I keep telling him that it just isn't so. I will never marry him, and absolutely refuse to EVER bare a Harris child, because of him and his family. I am also frustrated with our conversation, or rather, lack there of. He doesn't share any of my interests - in fact he doesn't seem to have any interest in anything besides himself: his hair, smile, muscle...tonight he had me look at his biceps, and the skin of his upper arms, AGAIN, and confirm that yes, shaving the hair off from the elbow-up looks better. What kind of fuckin' dinner conversation IS That? Then when I tried to talk to him about the State of the Union address and Bushe's indiscreet use of tokenism (he put lady bush between a black man and a muslim woman...coincidence? I think not), he interrupted me to talk about how pretty the restaraunt lights were, and then got up to kiss me and tell me how great my mind was (placation!). Where was the response? Where was the dialogue? No where to be found! Later on in the car, I continued to talk about Bush's admittance that the U.S. is addicated to Middle Eastern Oil (Key words, middle eastern...he and his pop own an oil company in Texas, which I'm sure provides oil at a higher price...if we elminate the middle east's oil, then that leaves bush and a handful of others to supply it while cleaner energy builds momentum in the u.s. = big bucks for bushy boy) and Zachary's only responses were either mundane, or, once again, completely off subject. If I didn't know better (and maybe I don't) I'd say Zac has a serious case of adult ADD. OR he just wasn't listening and didn't find the topic interesting (unlike his muscles, hair, smile, sexual prowess, talk of his buddy Reid, and cars). Even his grammar rubbed on me tonight, as he continually said things along the lines of "I interview fantastic" (real quote). I bit my lip to keep from 1) correcting his poor grammar, which any dunce should be able to navigate even without a college education and 2) to state that, no, as long as he talks like that he does NOT interview "fantastic" and how could he if all he talks about are himself, cars, and buddy Reid? I can't tolerate stupidity, and it seems to fall out of that boy's mouth in quarts (strange analogy, but it is true!). I literally have the male version of the dumb blond here, and I just don't know what to do about him. I condemn his stupidity, yet want to embrace him for what he is (since he really does suffer from some pretty whacked out insecurities), simultaneously I want to slap him for his bad behavior (somebody has to!), yet how can I blame him; look at his family! He says that I over estimate my intelligence. But do I? Or rather, do I see where he falls short? I think he could develop himself if he only tried, but he never will. His own parents have taught him that trying earns him nothing. Yet look at them...not trying has literally earned them nothing. Perhaps "trying" would do the opposite, and supply rewards that said laziness would not procur. He says they are happy. But 'I've never seen a more argumentative, stressed, and lost bunch. My family has it's issues, but at least they know if the mortgage is gonna be there every month. At least they have jobs they love. It's the home life that has always been messed up for my folks. And it's the same with Zac. But his parents also worry about survival, and wish they didn't have to go to work every day (or in the case of his dad, opts to not work half the year, so he can sleep in, leaving the burden of the household to his wife). I just don't see how that is a great lifestyle towards which one should aspire. Shouldn't we each want more than what our families have? Isn't that natural? I'm sorry for this, everyone. I just had to get some ideas into writing. What do you all think? | | Monday, January 23rd, 2006 | | 3:28 pm |
So supposedly the guy who has my number (his name is Will) has both ADD and perpetual shyness, so I have to call HIM. I need to schedule it out. I have too much beer to drink in the next week, and a moving violation to pay for in the next few days. When did I become such a drunk bastard? | | Saturday, January 21st, 2006 | | 3:34 pm |
Goin to a gay club tonight. Gonna dance with some dykey girls and delicate men. So the guy I gave my number to never called. I'm takin that as he isn't interested. And just to let you all know my new phone number is 971 212 3595. I miss you Sarah Lawrence. Here I come Lewis and Clark. | | Sunday, January 15th, 2006 | | 2:55 pm |
I'm exhausted, and I don't know why. I'm going to make myself run today. I WAS going to go out with Zac for a few hours of city fun before my shift tonight, but then he walked out my door, apparently pretending to be mad that I didn't let him kiss me, or some shit like that. I took him seriously, changed into my running gear and decided that, ok, my day was running and no fun. Then he calls, saying he's in his car outside and where the hell am I? I told him that since he walked out my door apparently angry, I changed and wasn't joining him today. Then he proceeds to call me, asking if I want to go eat, and what is my problem, and so on. And I'm angry! I can't help but feel really angry right now, and I can't entirely pinpoint why but goddamnit I am! I told him I thought his "joke" was mean and that no I didn't want to spend time with him. Is this strange? To be offended by a "joke" that encompasses him walking out the door pissed off that I wouldn't kiss him cause I'm getting fucking ready to go!!!!! Then when I got to my door, he just looks at me as he walks down the stairs, and goes to his car. How is that fucking funny!?! Why can't I find REAL friends? I only meet fucking fag-assholes who think that hurting me is hilarious. He only comes over for one fucking thing. Then he leaves. What is my fucking deal, that I continue to delude myself? I'm unhappy, unhealthy, and tired from people. I am so tired of people. I give and give, and what do I get in return. A sack of shit and a hard slap goodbye. I think I'll go read or run or do something productive to balance out all the wasted time I spend on other human beings. | | Wednesday, December 28th, 2005 | | 11:14 am |
I'm single Current Mood:  sadCurrent Music: Beyonce's "Me, Myself, & I" | | Wednesday, December 21st, 2005 | | 3:15 pm |
I have no idea
It's official boys and girls. I am in my twenties. A whole new decade. I woke up this morning, looked in my bathroom mirror and found myself asking "how did i get here?". I feel old. Or maybe that is my bronchittis (I'm getting better now). I'm realizing that my identity is in need of reconstruction. I don't associate with the "me" I created during highschool...and despite being a junior in college, I still have not made a "me" for my fully arrived adulthood. I feel lost. Desperately so. I don't even recognize my body anymore. It is rounder, thicker....made for babies. But what if the mind trapped by the baby-making body doesn't WANT babies? What if the body that claims to be grown holds a mind that only wants to be a child? What if I don't want to grow up? Zac and I don't really see eachother anymore. I guess you could say I am single. I don't know, actually. Well..yes I do. I am just terrified of what that means. I raelly don't know anyone here. Strange, isn't it? I lived here for seven years and yet I am still a stranger. *phone rings* "Hi mom...yes I'm fine...no I don't need any mucustop. I'm fine..yes...fine...FINE..k..I'll call you....k...yeah..yeah..yeahyeah...k...lo ve you...bye." Ug..I never know anymore. I think it's time to get dressed and go work off some of that freshman 10 | | Friday, December 9th, 2005 | | 1:49 pm |
| | Monday, November 21st, 2005 | | 1:49 pm |
musing....muse muse....
Ok I've felt sorry for myself long enough. Last night I stared at Zac....just watched. He is beautiful, no questioning that. More beautiful when he sleeps. I can't stand his thoughts....his mind...I like it when he doesn't speak. To do....I will find myself here....I HAVE to. And I will. I sometimes forget what a survivor I truly am. Moved over 20 times. Had many boyfriends. Four fathers. Three mothers. I am one and everything all the same. My friends have all changed color and purpose...and I always make them wherever I go. This is just one more place in which to plant more shallow roots. I love you Padraic, my queen kaliki, my Mary, Tara.....all those people in whom I found a warmth I thought would be alien to me but was more welcoming than my own home. Those people symbolize the good place in which I wish to find myself. I'll just have to do it here. And without a man. Men get in the way. That was the biggest mistake of my life, moving here for him. But it's done. I firmly believe everything is done for a reason...there is choice only so that we can go where we are needed...or where we need to be. A year and a half...that's all and then I'm OUT....I'll have that fucking degree and I'll move on...move out...maybe back to New York...maybe to California. Las Angeles. There's no limit... You know, recently I began to wonder as to why I'm here...and I think it might be this : I got the lead in the play this semester...the play just finished. And I did fantastically. I've never had such a large role...and I found something about myself in it.. I can act....and I love it...I love it more than breathing, and far more than sex, or beauty. I love it more than I've loved most people. There's little competition here for passionate acting, strangely. And I get those roles that teach me most. L.A. IS the center for movies....and also has theaters. And UCLA has a good Grad school. I want to get a piano. I'm going to make a CD. I've decided. I will. No, all, I'm not crazy....but I am growing up. 20 comes knocking at my door. The time's come to open it. Current Mood: contemplative | | Friday, November 18th, 2005 | | 10:59 am |
just thinking
I have officially decided that I dislike my life - yes, it is true, I am quite unsatisfied with it - it doesn't help that my pants don't fit and/or have holes in them forcing me to wear either very long shirts or jean-colored granny-panties, my apartment is freezing despite the heat always being on, and moving into a new place has not given me the whole bed like I thought it would as Zachary still manages to spend the night even when not invited and has developed a nasty habit of both hogging the covers and squirming. I also hate school....sorry to be such a downer, but it's true. I hate it. It's boring, mundane, and completely irrelevant to the arts of literature and creative writing. This campus is fucking lame! Nobody talks! All they do is get trashed every other night, then stumble into one another the next morning, hardly recalling that just the night before one had his hands in the other's pants. I need to start going to the gym - but it is in the basment of the sports building, has orange rubber carpeting (never thought I'd see that) over dirty concrete, has no t.v.'s, rather they play really awful rap music and occasionally Gwen Stefani over the loud speakers, and all the mirrors and weight machines are occupied by sweaty, over-masculinized football players who just sit on the benches and stare at themselves as their "heaving" muscles flex beneath what they think is the sweet stench of manliness, but to me just smells like B.O. I miss Sarah Lawrence....Life had somehow worked itself out there. Something it has yet to do here. Well - I'll figure this out. I always do. I'll find a niche. My first semester at Sarah Lawrence I hated it. By the second semester, I was in-love with ol' Sarah. Lewis and Clark will never embrace me like S.L.C. did, simply because I don't live here AND it's a fairly large school. But I'll find a way. hmmm....I need a vacation...and a date. I'm really tired. | | Friday, November 4th, 2005 | | 11:20 am |
O slept for nine hours and I'm still tired
List of my Life: 14 page paper due tuesday revised 5 page paper due ASAP 4 page paper due Friday Biology homework due Monday Performance tonight and tomorrow and next weekend. Moving on the 14th Have to buy bed, bed holder thingy (the word escapes me right now), a hair straightner, more birth control, food, glasses. internet..........uh...soemthing else. Pay phone bill...car bills done Go to Old Navy for jean sale - current jeans too big. Lose five pounds, at least. Take a nap Stretch Pluck eyebrows Go to class *yawn* | | Monday, October 10th, 2005 | | 4:50 pm |
I am tired like an anemic with mono.... | | Monday, October 3rd, 2005 | | 6:18 pm |
I am officially in HELL
I'm living in a closet of a room at Zac's parent's apartment for the next 3 weeks or longer (if I am not accepted to rent at Indian Hills)....o G-d please make that landlord take me! 3 weeks. is this some kind of almighty joke? I swear this morning as I cleaned everyone's dishes I could hear G-d laughing. Damn! | | Tuesday, September 27th, 2005 | | 7:23 pm |
God, shit, fuck....fuck...shit..fuck...hmmfhskfsnoihf....terrets (sp?).
hmm...my life is a little piece of very confusing-falling apart all at once- mess...I need a piano. Fiona Apple will have to suffice. I think I'll start smoking, just for now. I don't know why, but it makes me feel artistic. I've been throwing fits again - my creativity is pent up in me and is now starting to seep out in shouts and random outbursts of tears. I don't know what to do - I'm crazy if I can't CREATE. I need to CREATE! I've been listening to Irish music and watching Braveheart. A calling from the homeland? Possibly. All I am sure of, right now, is one day I do need to return to the land of my foremothers and fathers. My very cells crave it. My mind needs a place in which to take root. Being so transient is bad for my soul. I find myself wanting multiple lovers again. Really, I just need a big apartment, lots of time and paint, and three men in my life at a time. Then I would be content. I need excess.....hmm....but not excessive ass, which is definitly what I got now. I miss Mary. She was my little bundle of wonder - she was my release. Now I have to find a better way to vent - And unfortunately cigarettes are now the substitution for best friends - that and lattes. I'm gonna make a mistake I'm gonna do it on purpose gonna waste my time cause i'm full as a tick and i'm scratchin at the surface what i find is mine when the day is done and i look back and the fact is that i had fun fumbling around I'm gonna fuck it up again gonna do another detour unpave my path if you wanna make sense whatchya lookin at me for? i'm no good at math (english major). Fiona....you know me too well. | | Sunday, May 1st, 2005 | | 4:22 pm |
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