MSN PMSes on me Again.

I don't care if its raining and i don't care if all of fucking America is using the internet, I expect to get proper service so that I can have a decent 1 hr conversation without this fucking program shutting down on me every 5 mins.
Webcam doesn't work
Sending files fail
Doing anything more fucking elaborate than opening a window to talk to someone makes the whole fucking thing crash. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOUuuUU.
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After that flowery repartee. I'm going to go play BOGGLE!
WITH MYSELF!
but only after
I learn more about how the Buddha found his Dharma. BECAUSE ITS SO FUCKING TINTILLATING. *grumble* need chocolate.
And Yes its that time of the month

I never want to see a Wallmart in Europe

The More interesting people on the internet

After having said hi and asked about this particular person on the okcupid dating service (yes i know, but its funny) , they replied;

The words and tunes Are none of my own Though my joys and sorrows bore it. How will I say where I end Or where you begin How will I say, what shall I play Shall it be you or the wild wind? As Pan with the unsane eyes Or with the wild horns Or when I am crowned with the paper crown Or with the crown of thorns. Shall I now put lion's ears upon my ears? hear every sound as a roar Shall I now put mouse's eyes upon my eyes? gauge the moon for size against my paw Please don’t think I’m not your sort You’ll find that sheds are nicer than you thought.

Without having ever talked to this person before;

I hate to bother you with such a request, but I desperately need your help. My peaceful Victorian estate has been overrun by hordes of ravenous zombies! Even now they are attempting to claw their way through my thick oaken bedroom door. I fear that my life is forfeit unless you're willing to help me thwart these evil ghouls. What can you do? Please send me a picture of you doing the Star Trek hand sign. Ridiculous as it may sound, it's the only way I'll be able to vanquish these undead creeps. bonnysnot@hotmail.com is the sacred e-mail address to send your life-saving photo to. I beg you: Don't let me become their next meal!

Sincerely, and desperately,

-Jarvis, the baron who does not wish to become a tasty zombie snack.

Actually looking for inspiration to a title that no one cares about? Ridicoloso

I just realised how much my roommate is like me. Or I was like her. shes like the immature version of me? Without the sarcasm, the normal optimism, the laissez faire attitude, and with more drive. But hey not everyones perfect (birthday i was about to write). I miss, a normal person to talk to when it comes to work and advice. Friends in other houses are okay, but when i need it on the spot, its the RM's one sided jutting "oh that explains it all" advice.
I realise today Easy Mac (a crappy version of macaroni and cheese) is crap. Trying to give it away to someone, somehow. PLEEASE take it, pleaase. Luckily Campbells soup hasn't failed as to yet :). I miss homecooking. I never thought i'd say that cliché sentence. But its actually a lot of fun when someone is going to cook something with love, and you're going to know exactly how it tastes, and you're going to know its going to be yummy and healthy and not going to stuff you like a chicken. The perfect portion of life.
I want to lick the screen and let my tongue and taste buds enter the realm of cyberspace like Alice into the looking-glass or Keanu into the ''the real world". I want it to taste fuzzy like snow or white noise on the radio or Tv. I want it to crunch under my teeth and explode like little firecrackers into my throat. i want the edges to be chewy and fruity. Whatever black and white fruits taste like. Je veux l'amour facile, quelle'que chose que je n'ai pas peur d'affronter. Comment rever quand la réalité me force vers la terre? Io no lo so. Comme d'habitude, ich werde wie ein jelly donut. Soft and mushy on the outside, and soft and mushy on the inside. That be me, mushable. Sarah stop speaking the talk of the mad men. Pull that plug out of the back of my brain then :)
Too much free time.
Too little logica.

UnWhole Wholesome diet.By the obvious who speak the obvious.A Medley.

Every day is so wonderful
And suddenly, it's hard to breathe
I'd like to watch you sleep at night,
to hear you breathe by my side
And although sleep leaves me behind,
there's nowhere I'd rather be
And now our bed is oh so cold,
my hands feel empty,
no-one to hold
I can sleep what side I want,
it's not the same with you gone
I won't sleep,
I can't breathe
until you're resting here with me
I won't leave,
I can't hide,
I cannot be,
until you're resting here with me.
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
Across the night
It was the moon that stole my slumber
Across the night
I fell in love with people sleeping
Closer now than we ever have been
Closer now than we've ever been before
Closer to everything
I don’t know why you’re so far away
But I know that this much is true;

Loud and quiet

The Crickets are really loud here. I try to have my usual evening walking alone thoughts, yet the crickets interrupt any chance of every saving world hunger, or imagining kissing that true beloved. Looking up at the sky here, even the sky is noisy. I hope it will all fade into the background. I can sort of understand why the whole yoga thing is more needed here.

When I actually started thinking, I started thinking about American extremes again. I assure u this is all based on many prejudices but its fun to play around with. So the Land of extremes. A lot of loud very "happy" people. When I say this i mean in appearance ofcourse. So we have happy people. But what if! yes what if! in the land of the happy, u by any chance feel sad (like i do on occasions during these think fests, for thinking is the downright fall of any ignorant teenager like meself). So, people who suddenly feel sad must now resort to going to the other extreme, becoming very anti-society. The reason people are so happy in the first place is so to ignore the more real things in life like general downfall of society (poverty, hatred etc) *cannot think at the moment because bla bla bla bla bla droning away at too loud too loud don't want to hear too nice to complain tooo tooo nice must kill myself slowly with words slowly with sharp jabbing letters into my skin tillt he brain decomposes*.

SO when a little bit of reality surfaces, these children turn to the more illegal things like mariHuANA and alKohol. Which are ofcourse illegal and adrenaline shooting. The Media ofcourse is subdueing any negative feelings from the sad people, by only showing happy shiney people, or more "sad" / "depressed" celebrities, so its like adrenaline shots for the humdrum of life.

But there is so much of it out there that it just numbs in everyones minds, then i drift off on a tangent and dream of a delicate surge of power in my mouth, that i won't feel for another 4 monthes. Slow tears warm up the face, while i gently rock forth the porch swing and try to let that sky, that in Europe let me breath crystaline air *god do i miss geneva*, sooth me but telephone pole wires slashing the view. I miss my sky. That link to you. I feel a little part of me dies here. Nothing important, just breathings a little harder. Feel like caressing the trunk of a tree. Hippy you say. But my brain zones off and I feel whatever is left of me intertwines through and around the tree, and i want to breath out fully and let go into the arms of this tree. Close my eyes and drift off against this tree. Which tree you ask? The one which is settling its roots into both of us, slowly grappling on into our insides, slowly stabilising itslelf, through all the noise through all the nyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanyanya, a single note of clarity, a single movement of settling strength. If i told you all what really was bothing me, you'd understand. If i told you all what the noise really was, you'd understand what i allude to. But i keep a wall, a wall of generality so my flowerly words speak to all and speak to none. They do the opposite of the similar. They...just...just...i don't know just scratch my brain away and let me be weightless in your arms. One kiss, just one, i think i might cry again and again and again over and over and over and over. Its the devil from within sprouting its wings to without. I need shelter. The neverending shelter of a home of comfort and privacy i need to cry i need to scream i need nothing more just...quiet. Blissful silence. Breathing in and out. Deep breaths. So close. oh so close again for always.

By Yasi

Here it is, you're lucky my publisher already knows that if i came
up with something this good it would have to have been stolen.


“The Squirrel and the monkey-named-bob” :Part One

Once upon a time, long long ago, in a land far, far away, on a dark
and stormy night (actually it was a hot summers day but thats not
nearly as poetic is it?!) there lived a little squirrel who went by
the name of Boris. Boris lived in a big, giant, huge, enormous oak
tree at the foot of the forest, with his mum, dad and his aunt Beryl
(who was really a man, but i'm sure you don't want any more
details).

one fine day Boris decided to throw a party...well not
actually throw a party, cuz throwing something that big could be
rather dangerous (you'll poke someone's eye out with that thing!),
but rather he decided to have a party, or "make" a party as the
retarded french-people-who-think-they-can-speak-english say. *ahem*
as i was saying before you rudely interrpted, Boris decided to
have a party, and to invite all his friends: (yes unlike some people he
actually had friends) including petra the frog, petunia the slug,
gladys the hedgehog and tum and phul the bears. and naturally he
invited a lot of random Russian guys (hopefully goodlooking ones) as
Boris the squirrel was obviously a Russian spy. well i'm not going
to bore you with a list of Russian names, instead i am goign to bore
you with the details of the party :-)

Boris's friends turned up at the tree at exactly 4gm sharp, like all good forest creatures they
were very punctual. they all went inside and began to demolish the
lifetimes supply of russian vodka that Boris had won in a
competition from the back of a cereal packet...yes squirrels do buy
cereal!...anyway, as i was saying...hmmm what was i saying?....ah
yes, Boris's party...they all got really drunk off the russian
( kids these days, always getting drunk!) except for Tum and Phul
the bears, cuz they couldnt climb the tree that Boris lived in. now
this was very unfair, because we all know that fat people (or bears
as the case may be) have feelings too! and the poor bears shouldnt
be discriminated agaisnt just because of their unnaturally large
size! but as the world is just so damn unfair, the poor bears were
stuck outside the tree, crying their poor little eyes out and
listening to the sounds of drunken madness from within.

Suddenly a monkey appeared from the skies, floating down to earth on a
mary-poppins-style umbrella and a tube of colgate toothpaste.
hello, my name is Bob," said the monkey.
there was a sudden silence in the room (or tree) as everyone drew in
their breath sharply and stared open-mouthed at the monkey.
“my God” exclaimed Boris.
“Yes?” said the cute little grasshoppper from the
nearby bush.


....to be continued....

anyway, as i was saying...

Part Two: the squirrel

OK so there was this moneky floating down from the sky last time right? well then suddenly it started to rain, and all the monkey opened the tube of colgate toothpaste. the toothpaste mixed with rain made a pretty little substance called foam, and all the animals (apart from the poor bears of course) enjoyed a noice foam party. they frolicked in the foam til the sun appeared on the horizon, looking like a big drop of honey coated with sugar and covered with chocolate icing. from the foam sprouted huge bubbles, which were of course edible, and the animals had great fun eating them, along wiht the edible paper clips which have to appear in every story.

Boris the squirrel was having a wonderful time at his party, but he also felt sorry for the poor little bearlings stuck outside in the cold. in a gesture of goodwill Boris went outside to see the poor buggers, but instead of finding bears he found deliciuos looking mushrooms. these mushrooms looked so edible that Boris just had to eat one (bloody men, no self control!). anway, Boris ate the mushroom, and realised a litttle too late that is was a magic mushroom. the sky turned a beautiful shade of turquoise, and the grasshopper suddenly looked very much like dinner. despite the protests of the small and insignificant creature, Boris the squirrel ate the grasshopper, and never discovered that his true identity was God of the universe. but really God should take on a more obvious persona, like a lion, or even a polar bear...i mean who takes a grasshopper seriously??

so once Boris was fully satisfied with his meal, he decided to approach Bob the monkey. Now bob was well know throughout the southern hemisphere for his "bed escapades" , (i'll tell you bout that when you're older), so Boris was quite familiar with his type. Bob insisted that life was quite normal here on this beautiful little planet, but Boris was not convinced. he had seen the cruelty and the creativity of the human race, but he was not impressed. Bob on the other hand believed in a greater good for humanity, with lollipops and love for all.
"no es amor, lo que tu sientes, se llama obsesion", said the monkey.
"i can show you the world, shining shimmering splendid...tell me princess now when did you last let your heart decide...", said the squirrel.
and suddenly a porcupine climbed out of it's hole and yawned widely,full of the hope and enlightenment of the middle class...

to be continued....