More thoughts...

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I had a potluck yesterday in my small appartment. So many people came, it was really fun.

It was fun squeezeing everyone in, and we had lots of good food:

apples, sushi, cookies, sandwhiches, turkey, orange juice, etc.

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After everyone left, I was sitting and my floor and I couldn't feel sleepy.

My thoughts were jumping around in my head, and my feelings

were crawling around in my brain, and so I decided to start drinking.

So, I drank my self to sleep again. Not really so smart, but it works.

In a few minutes, I'm going to go to my radio show. I'm going to play

a lot of the Pizzicato Five CD that cool Kayo sent me. Its a realy cool CD,

and so maybe today is Pizzicato day. ^^ 5 to tha Pizzo, jive to tha cato-faiiiive.

Or something like that. Dansen is finishing his thoughts... one more thought,

this diary is setup so really old entries will be deleted by new ones.. . so its

kind of like life. Nothing lasts forever, so enjoy your moments.

I don't know what I'm saying today. ¤¸¤ã¡¢¤Þ¤¿¤Í¤¨¡Á

...

Hello everyone. This is my "freechal" copy. ㅋㅋㅋ ..I'm trying to make a interesting diary thing.

Its a public diary, so maybe you won't see anything shocking (or maybe you will~!)

I have no problem saying I'm totally copying this idea from many other people,

including my friend Nicky who has the exact same system on his website.

But this is my thoughts of whats happening. Keep on reading~!



do you know what? its my fate dude. I just wrote this long winded totally geeky

but really cool thought about Greeks & anciant Japanese ideas. and the damn

computer just died, and I lost it all. うそ！パスコンはヤバイね！ It really sucks.

Maybe I'll say something quickly, and more stupid sounding this time.

I'm taking a Greek Litature class. グリクーの文学。I was thinking about

how anciant Greek and anciant Japanese Shinto has almost the same ideas!

The teacher was explaining the basic ideas behind traditional Greek thought:

1) honor gods, 2) honor parents 3) honor the dead 4) honor guests & hosts...

and this is totally old Japanese thoughts! The number 2 is kind of a result of

confusist but at the same time it mixed into old Shinto...~ but the rest have been

with Shinto for a long time! Shinto & Greek are both "polytheistic" (many gods)

although the main difference is Greek relgion is "anthropomorphic" (making gods

seem like real humans) but Shinto isn't (or am I wrong? is it?)... anyway... thats

enough geeky crap from me. blah blah blah, I dont stop talking.

でも、おもしろいじゃん！神道とグリクーの宗教はちょっと同じと思う。

帰りたい。おやすみ！ thats all from me for now... SAMPAI JUMPA!

broken thoughts about tonight

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from an old notebook I had for my British Literature class, I would sometimes write poem fragments in the book of it after class, no solid dates were written down.

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Alienated shadows,
circles without a home
Empty voices,
shapes standing all alone
Cards of suits and many colors
defined and lined
all in a row
Ignite the story, burning tonight
Echoed laughs,
and simple sorrows
On waves of wine
blown, in the wild wind...

eat, eat, eat

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from an old book of poetry I had, I would sometimes write thought fragments on it while riding the bus, no solid dates were written down.

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Silver trays are the teeth of the giant
beast that eats everything.
Piling, high inside the mind,
the wastes of a society gone mad.
Eating, eating, eating
Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning
The rubber gloves, clothed like an awkward
frog, grasp the pans and drown them
and submerge the pots in the horrid stew of
wasted food, afloat on putrid water.
"arigato, arigato, arigato..."
The song is sang to the sound of the
mechanical monster that swallows the dishes
and spits them out clean.
The huge, noisy, monster dies, and lives again---
attempting to confuse the frog hands as they grasp
the lids, teeth, and other broken pieces of the
common flow that is blind to its innards.
The mindless people are the future forks and spoons
of society. They line up--- as if to be washed
and cleaned, never seeming to notice the inside
of the world they eat.

mouse

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from an old book of poetry I had, I would sometimes write thought fragments on it while riding the bus, no solid dates were written down.

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Today, I was waiting for the bus and I was looking across the road. As I watched the street I saw a tiny mouse standing on my side of the street. The mouse hesitated, and then ran into the street. Big cars roared over its head, coming very close to hitting the poor mouse. The noise confused the poor mouse and for a moment she weaved back and forth, as if she was lost. And then with new determination the mouse finished across the road. Some silly girl said something like "What a stupid mouse, it shouldn't try to cross the road, it could get hit by a car!" But I thought, "What a brave mouse! Good for it!" Because this reminded me of life, in life we struggle to cross the road (or you can say we struggle with a task) and many things confuse us, no matter how hard we try. But if we don't give up--- we can cross the road!

dream

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from an old book of poetry I had, I would sometimes write thought fragments on it while riding the bus, no solid dates were written down.

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Very odd dream. It's fading now, I can feel the corners of the images crumble... soon it will only be a hazy memory. The morning is soft. A pinkish orange still bathes the horizon, like the ring that sometimes forms around the bathroom's tub. The tilt of the sun casts a vivid, and thick, shade of orange on everything. Like the dream, this orange hue will be gone soon. The trees this time of year, in the fall, seem to be so full of color. This year also, or maybe I am just noticing, but I like the shades of yellow that cling to the skinny branches. Voices. Sounds. Smells.

My thoughts are interrupted.

eye of the beholder

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from a computer text file I kept on my handmade 80486.

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Eye of the beholder!
Watch me grow young as I get older!
eye of the beholder!
watch me get older!
get older!
look into the sky, as it brakes, and shines golder!
see the night as it grows oh so colder!
dont you r.e.a.l.i.s.eeee?
its all.
in the eye of the beholder!
I'm getting younger as I'm always older!
Say hello, say goodbye
Just behind your mask, I can see youre always ready to cry
Your eye, my eye
the difference is only a simple lie
eye of the beholder!
eye of the beholder!

red green yellow

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from a computer text file I kept on my handmade 80486.

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"red"
If you could hear the color red
would it only scream of the many dead?
what would it think when it saw the blue sky?
would it tell you everything will die?
if you could hear the color red
would you believe all the fiendish things it surly said?
Evil, heathen, red are you really all bad?
Red, red, marvelous red, thoughts of you only seem to make me sad

"green"
If you could feel the color green
Could it taste like a lima bean?
Would it feel flat or round?
And would it make even a simple chirping sound?
if you could feel the color green
would it feel like someone old, or someone who was as young as a teen?
Simple soft, green, do some people look upon you with hate?
Silly green, dumb and mute, I think the other colors use you for innocent bait

"yellow"
If you could be the color yellow
would you feel all gushy and mellow?
Or would you turn evil and scream?
Would you be like a monster in a bad dream?
If you could be the color yellow
would you shake so softly like lemon jello?
Or would you shrink oh so very small?
Would you then sit and stare at the empty wall?
Yellow, don't you have so many different ways that people understand you?
To me, youre just plain and simply a very beautiful hue

questions

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from a computer text file I kept on my handmade 80486.

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My ears are hearing the evening rain
quietly in the dark
beyond my window the night drips in
softly with the drips of water, that fill the ground
Dirt to mud, mud to water, water to rain
My blurry eyes, want to see
But I am left with a mystery
The moans of pleasure, not my own, but oh so near
Were, for a few brief moments, all I could hear
And now the rain has washed away the simple thoughts, so quick
I am left with an odd, slippery, feeling deep inside my soul
Who was this word that I heard?
And when will it end?
I want to gain the entry, I want to get the answer
But all I am left with is the question,
and the story begins to fade, once again

further

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from a computer text file I kept on my handmade 80486.

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I fear the words I claim are my cure
I fear they will say something of her
A past that is my present, will never go away
A feeling that crept inside of me, is here so long--to stay
Is this pain or pleasure
I can no longer grasp or measure
The feelings light my brittle body like a fire from within
This contorting pleasurable pain rips off my outer skin
As I am cleaned, I feel dirty, and oh so incomplete
My insides are laid bare by this inner heat
Tell me when will this ever end?
will I forever brake, but never bend?

waiting

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from a computer text file I kept on my handmade 80486.

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I'm waiting for the phone to ring
waiting for a call
its never going to ring today
but I'll think it will anyway
becaue its the wish that keeps me going
the belief in each new day
and if I stop to think
then I'll surely stop forever
even if the phone will ring
ring so loud that I can not hear
I'm waiting ... for the phone ... to ring

tears

Note from 2012: I am missing a diary from about 1998 to 2002. I wrote a lot of poems in that time, but to the best of my knowledge I didn't write any diary entries. I will provide some of the poems here as a way to represent my melodramatic mind during those "missing years" and on some of the poems (2000-2002) the dates are only approximate. The thoughts were sometimes experimental, and not a total reflection of my life. Just poetry of a teenager. I won't upload all of them, but I will upload a few to fill in any gaps in my chronological record.

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The poem on this page is from a computer text file I kept on my handmade 80486.

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She is walking, talking, and crying too
It makes me look down at my simple shoe
Artificial sunlight shines down on my head
I don’t know what is to be said
The moments melt together in the muddy pool of my mind
And I desperately want to be so kind
I feel like the night has almost won over the day
And it has left me not knowing what to say

I stop, pause, and sigh
I feel like I should also cry
The tears run down her face
At an extremely furious pace
And then the tears are gone, faster then they had came
They have soaked inside her soul, to feed her inner flame
For now the moment and tears did not last
They are lost in the many depths of the past