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Yes. This. [27 Dec 2011|01:11pm]
"It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great."



Umm.. Peace Corps?


I miss America, but we have less than a year to go! Come on November!!!!!
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breathe out, so I can breathe you in [18 Dec 2011|02:22am]
When the layers subside, and the fortune is empty

the pigment of our days will echo pure.

and I will be no where

if not with you.
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other blog! [21 Aug 2011|07:58pm]
http://elegantmachine.wordpress.com/2011/08/21/four-cups-of-coffee-and-regret/
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The Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot [15 Aug 2011|11:18pm]
S'io credesse chc mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa Gamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno viva alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and, 'Do I dare?'
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair--
(They will say: 'How his hair is growing thin!')
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin--
(They will say: 'But how his arms and legs are thin!')
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all--
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all--
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

. . . . .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in
upon a platter,
I am no prophet--and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: 'I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all'--
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: 'That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.'

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail
along the floor--
And this, and so much more?--
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a
screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
'That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.'

. . . . .

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
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love this poem.. <3 [26 Nov 2010|05:54pm]
 "You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine."
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Casa-blog-a [09 Sep 2010|01:34am]
 For those who are interested, I started another blog. This one is to specifically document my Peace Corps adventure. I'm leaving on Monday for Morocco which is in North Africa. I'll be there for just over two years. It's going to be crazy and I'm super excited/scared/sad/happy/nervous.
I had to get a different blog so that anyone could view it easily, not just people with LJ. I hope everyone will take a look, I promise to update often and with photos :)
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Vote for my friend! :) [11 May 2010|07:08pm]
Vote for my awesome friend Kalena! She is vegetarian and cutteeeeee!
cutestveg2010.peta2.com/Contestant.aspx
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This skin is a nuisance, this skin that keeps us apart. is a nuisance. [02 Mar 2010|09:04pm]
Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
we’re inconsolable.
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it.


In Watermelon Sugar the deeds were done and done again as my life is done in watermelon sugar. I'll tell you about it because I am here and you are distant.
Wherever you are, we must do the best we can. It is so far to travel, and we have nothing here to travel, except watermelon sugar. I hope this works out.
I live in a shack near iDEATH. I can see iDEATH out the window. It is beautiful. I can also see it with my eyes closed and touch it. Right now it is cold and turns like something in the hand of a child. I do not know what that thing could be.
There is a delicate balance in iDEATH. It suits us.
The shack is small but pleasing and comfortable as my life and made from pine, watermelon sugar and stones as just about everything here is.
Our lives we have carefully constructed from watermelon sugar and then travelled to the length of our dreams, along roads lined with pines and stones.
I have a bed, a chair, a table and a large chest that I keep my things in. I have a lantern that burns watermelontrout oil at night.
That is something else. I'll tell you about it later. I have a gentle life.
I go to the window and look out again. The sun is shining at the long edge of a cloud. It is Tuesday and the sun is golden.
I can see piney woods and the rivers that flow from those piney woods. The rivers are cold and clear and there are trout in the rivers.
Some of the rivers are only a few inches wide.
I know a river that is half-an-inch wide. I know because I measured it and sat beside it for a whole day. It started raining in the middle of the afternoon. We call everything a river here. We're that kind of people.
I can see fields of watermelons and the rivers that flow through them. There are many bridges in the piney woods and in the fields of watermelons. There is a bridge in front of this shack.
Some of the bridges are made of wood, old and stained silver like rain, and some of the bridges are made of stone gathered from a great distance and built in the order of that distance, and some of the bridges are made of watermelon sugar. I like those bridges best.
We make a great many things out of watermelon sugar here -- I'll tell you about it -- including this book being written near iDEATH.
All this will be gone into, travelled in watermelon sugar.



Separation

BY W. S. MERWIN

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
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[23 Feb 2010|02:27pm]
I do not care what car you drivee where you live. If you know someone who knows someone who knows someone. If your clothes are this years cutting edge. If your trust find is unlimted. If your A-list or B-list or never heard of you list.. I only care about the words that flutter down from your mind. They are the only thing you truely own. The only thing I will remeber you by. I will not fall in love with your bones and your skin. I will not fall in love with the places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind

-Andre Jordon
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Mermaid/Octopus half sleeve (done!) [12 Dec 2009|01:46pm]
I've posted the progress of my half sleeve since May. We finally finished it about a month ago. As always credit goes to the amazing, talented, patient and oh so handsome, Anson Eastin at Forever Tattoo in Cape Coral Florida

“A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness, That even lovers drown.”Collapse )
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AHHH!!! [02 Dec 2009|04:30pm]
I got into FLIPPIN GRAD SCHOOL!!!!!


I got in at Nova Southeastern University for the Conflict Analysis and Resolution Program.



I could die. :)


Also Lance is having a baby. Due July 29th. That could be a potential shit storm but I'm excited none the less.
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My recent irresponsible purchases :) [25 Nov 2009|01:43pm]
Art from ZombieCon 2009 (It's like a mosiac tile, It's called "Brain Dead")


This is the major one. It's from the Dia de los Muertos show at HOWL Gallery in FM. I'm so lucky I got it for the price that I did. I made an offer and the artist met me in the middle. It's still being displayed at the gallery until the 3rd I believe. I can't wait to bring her home. <33

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Cape Coral Living [20 Aug 2009|11:45pm]
It looks like I will be in town until next summer -ish. FML! Good things will come out of it but seriously FML!

The other day I was working and this older gentleman with some sailor/prison ish tattoos had FTW on this forearm. I know the two meanings of that to be "For the Win" and "Fuck the World" So I asked him if he was just always going for the win or if it had another meaning... He told me he always thought of it as meaning "For the Women". I fall in love with everyone all day long. Yes, including this man. For the Women? Yes Please!

On a semi related note the (former) oldest man in the world died back in February at age 113 or something insane. He attributed his old age to whisky, cigarettes, and wild, wild women. With all this as evidence I must wonder, why is it so hard to find a man? As a woman I think I would just be good to have around. :) 
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I am just beside myself.. [05 Aug 2009|12:01am]
I applied for the peace corps almost 2 years ago. Now that I am about 30 days away from leaving I find out that I tore my ACL and have to have surgery and 6 months of physical therapy. I'm not going to be able to leave for Morocco as scheduled. So much for learning Arabic, buying all the clothes that I did, learning about the culture, buying all the random supplies necessary for Africa. I seriously could just curl up and die right now. I know that there will be benefits but I'm just not ready to see the silver lining. :( 
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Mermaid/Octopus half sleeve [03 Aug 2009|03:01pm]
Third Session photosCollapse ) 
I'll go back for more color in a week or so. I think we'll darken up her hair and add some more cool colors. Once again credit is due to Anson Eastin @ Forever Tattoo in Cape Coral Fl.
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tattoo [20 May 2009|01:20am]
 
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[29 Apr 2009|12:32am]
 I found these lyrics by Iron and Wine, beautiful, that seem fitting to my situation. I feel like I'm a ghost watching my old life commence without me there. I'm not included in future plans, phrases like "my last easter", "my last birthday" are thrown around. Not technically my last but last for a while, I am not included in future plans for the most part and I"m not a viable person to establish any new relationships with because I am temporary. Anyway, maybe too abruptly melancholy but I like them...

Please, remember me, happily, 
by the rosebush laughing 
with bruises on my chin, the time when 
we counted every black car passing 
your house beneath the hill, and up until 
someone caught us in the kitchen 
with maps, a mountain range, a piggy bank 
a vision too removed to mention

But please remember me, fondly, 
i heard from someone you're still pretty 
and then they went on to say that the Pearly Gates 
have such eloquent graffiti 
like: “we'll meet again” and “fuck the Man” 
and “tell my mother not to worry” 
and angels with their great handshakes 
but always done in such a hurry 

and please remember me, at Halloween 
making fools of all the neighbors 
our faces painted white, by midnight 
we'd forgotten one another 
and when the morning came I was ashamed 
only now it seems so silly 
that season left the world and then returned 
and now you're lit up by the city 

so please remember me, mistakenly 
in the window of the tallest tower 
call, then pass us by, but much too high 
to see the empty road at happy hour 
gleam and resonate just like the gates 
around the Holy Kingdom 
with words like: “lost and found” and “don't look down” 
and “someone save temptation” 

and please remember me, as in the dream 
we had as rug-burned babies 
among the fallen trees and fast asleep 
beside the lions and the ladies 
that called you what you like and even might 
give a gift for your behavior: 
a fleeting chance to see a trapeze- 
swinger high as any savior 

but please remember me, my misery 
and how it lost me all i wanted 
those dogs that love the rain, and chasin' trains 
the colored birds above there runnin' 
in circles round the well, and where it spells 
on the wall behind St. Peter 
so bright on cinder gray in spray paint: 
“who the hell can see forever?” 

and please remember me, seldomly 
in the car behind the carnival 
my hand between your knees, you turn from me 
and said the trapeze act was wonderful 
but never meant to last, the clowns that passed 
saw me just come up with anger 
when it filled with circus dogs, the parking lot 
had an element of danger 

so please remember me, finally 
and all my uphill clawing 
my dear, but if i make the Pearly Gates 
i’ll do my best to make a drawing 
of God and Lucifer, a boy and girl 
an angel kissin’ on a sinner 
a monkey and a man, a marching band 
all around the frightened trapeze-swinger

nah nah nah, nah nah nah nah …

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Peace Corps Life [31 Mar 2009|09:33am]
I finally got word from the Peace Corps about where I am going. It's Morocco, which is in North Africa. I'm arriving in country on Sept 8th, 2009. I'll be doing Youth Development. I'm so pumped I can't believe it. I'm so lucky and thrilled with my placement. :)  
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[07 Oct 2008|02:57am]
 New screenname

breakfastf00d

hit me up yo
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The morning comes and you don't want to know me anymore. [28 Jan 2008|12:48pm]
Today i'm renting a steamcleaner or something. I feel like my room stinks. It does. Like animal and stuff. I guess that could be because Lucy loves to pee in my room and we have 4 cats....

Life is good....

It's always good isn't it?
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