Well, yesternight was useless.

Although I had a good time going to the BP, and prospectively being either kidnapped or attacked by unforeseen attackers down some random dark alley at 00.00 in the morning, I have a feeling that in general - the night was more than normal spent fairly uselessly.

The list of things I did was comprehensive, yet so completely irrelevant that I won't even bother. Namely, I did not sleep.

I stared, ponderously broodingly, into my soft moss green duvet cover, thinking of how I'd like to be asleep. But wasn't all the while. I blew my nose countless times and even sucked on a coughdrop - but alas, it did not ease my pain either.

I attempted, quite vainly, to sheild my eyes from the oncoming blaze of street lamps. That too was a useless effort, showing no more success in aiding my sleep than the occasional tissue party that served to severely punctuate the tender reddness under the tip of my quite unhappy nasal passage. This only intensified my misery throughout the night.

I was hot. Not cold in the dead of winter with the window open. oh no. I was hot. Unsufferably really. But still somehow could not find the disheartening strength to open the window an extra inch and therefore, and almost immediately, freeze out my poor compadre who inevitably sleeps much closer to the window - as well as more soundly on this account. I think.

There were dreams, I'm sure. But they were all fairly useless enough to not recall. I may not have even aquired any REM by the time I "awoke", if you could even bother to really call it that. Honestly, I have no verification of the statement either way. The only verification I have is the bags under my eyes to intensify the zombie-look I have managed to neatly pull of for the day by combining no sleep with no shower and a half-picked wardrobe.

So, it was 7.00 whereabouts I decided to lie there and suffer in my agony, finally flipping on my back in a pathetic hope to aquire a smithereen of rest. Soon, to thwart my plans, the clock read 7.35 and I realized it would be useless to try much longer.

I flung myself out of bed to grab a sip of water and a trip to the potty - only to realize I felt quite awake - even rested, which I realize is in no way a rational realization. But being the dubious fool I am, I smothered myself once again amongst the mossy green agony I'd laid in all the night...or rather an irrelevant portion of the night long.

It was not until the alarm went off for the first time at 8.16 that I felt I was getting some real rest. This is not ironic. It is expected. It should go without saying, really.

I laid in my pathetic groveling for another 20 minutes before I decided better against any further puttings-off of the day and roused myself. Feeling groggy now instead of the alert awareness with which I had sprung myself from the nest at 7.35 - my legs buckeled nearly instantly and I was forced to relive the horror of running in the cold of the previous day. A serious mistake, might I add.

To continue the horror, I gathered up my laundry and hauled it off. It was cold out. Clearly, this again was fate. My boots rubbed, attempting to cause blisters, but I foiled them before they could foil me.

In class, the spout of sickness which has become my nasal and sinus cavities became a constant thorn in my face. However, seeing as I had not thought of this before stumbling, half blind - half lame, from my room at 8.55, I was forced to suffer through with one measly tissue until break, which relieved me of at least one ill.

But of course, the day could not get better. Chapel was dull. The firedrill - pointless. And my body - cramped and stiff.

The fact that I have come to a point of constant obsesssion with pushing my shoulders back so that I do not become a hunched old woman by my 30's only adds to the terrible succession of events; for this obsession only comes upon me at moments such at 5.00 - when I ought to be asleep but am rather noticing how I hunch my shoulders when I lie down to sleep. Considering this is a dangerous habit, there is no better time than the present. And thus, you can imagine how that bit of my night went - adding to the snowball effect of my fate.

Sadly, the overall effect was poor. The overall night - inhumane. And the overall day thus far - painful. I am not feeling any immediate need to radicate myself of the bitter brooding which has become my day, which really adds to the problem - and so, it shall continue much into the night I fear.

And unfortunately, it will probably not much improve over the next multiples of hours either.

And although I realize, with much annoyance which only adds to my filling of bitter angst, that this has been nothing more than a gargantuan pity party for myself, grab a party hat, my friend - because it ain't over yet.

-RK

So I poured honey on my slipper today

It was just one of those days. Got honey on my blue fuzzies and the floor...and my pants and my hoodie and chair and my desk. Who knew that tortillas with honey spread within them when folded in half would make such a mess? And who knew that if you drop a jar of honey, it spills out much faster than it would ever pour out on something you ever intended it to be on/in.

On top of that - I had a wellness cake today. It tasted like a Little Debbie. I can only assume it was wellness for my soul ... not my body.

Played volleyball too. Understand, that it's very hard to play when you suck and are on a team with three individuals who think they are perfect at the game and should try to help you out and one who just knows he's the god of the sport and will do it for you since you can't. Yeah. That was a useful workout for me. Sigh. I hope tomorrow goes better...at least better than that went. It'd be hard not to.

So that's it for now. Really, this only exists because I'm not brooding - wanted to write, and really had nothing worth writing. So the easy out is always to recount a day in stupid and vague ways. It makes me sound more...well, interesting than I bet I really am in the end.

So there you have it. Did nothing. Did some things that felt like nothing. And saw Amalie - which was artsy but had that cheesy, sappy ending that serves no other purpose than to make you hate your own rubbish-crammed life. Sad. But true.

-RK

One of the best kept secrets...

So I'm sitting in my room...In my dorm room, and I am typing a post. On my blog. On the internet. Via this world wide web I've been raving about.

Seems that the world wide web just became a little wider.

I hope this is not a glimpse in the future. I pray these dreams last. I sincerly wish that this is not some kind of cruel joke.

If it is...well, gosh, I'll just break down and weep.

Yeah, that's pretty much it.

And so, I leave you with the memory of this day - this GLORIOUS day, that we all fully knew had to come as some point, and yet always felt was just a little too far off.

*sigh* It's beautiful. Isn't it? Truly, truly beautiful.

Ha, so there AO screw-you-over L! There!

-RK

Finally...

Ahh. The feel of the world wide web at my fingertips once again.

Really, I'm quite glad for those first two words. Without those...I would simply be lost *weeps*

...Ahh, but I am not lost! World wide does still mean world wide! And seeing as I'm across the world from 'home', as it were...I still have the world wide web to grace my little eyes and hands with information and communication...well as much as you can consider the world wide web communicating!

...Hmm. So anyway. I'm glad to be back. I'm glad to be taking classes that !Rock! and I'm glad to ...

Your the only one who stuck it out this time,
the only other one who caught the other line...

Interesting words. Makes me think. Makes me wonder...

Sigh. But not too much.

It's better not to wonder too much. Better not to think about the future too much. Better not to dwell on the things you can't see, the things you don't know, the mysteries you can't solve. Better not to think too much about them, or dream too much about them, or reach too far to attain them...

and end up falling from where you are into the black abyss below.

...sigh. It must be better this way. If it isn't, why I am here - why am I doing it?

No. I have to believe that it is truly better this way. Better not to worry. Better not to plan. Better not to think of all the things you want, only to realize you can't have a single one of them.

Better not to ponder. Better not to dream of things you can't achieve. Better not to hope for things you oughtn't have.

Better not to brood. Better not to weep.

-RK

*shrug*

I thought one day I would finish this. I guess I never really did. So here it is anyway, in it's incomplete entirety...

***
To be honest, I don't expect much. From a scrawny girl with messy hair and unsure footing, I really don't expect much. From a respectable scholar with the degrees from the top schools - I expect more. But from a frightened and unsure individual who still feels too often like an adolescent - I really can't be said to expect much.
***

That's as much of the thought that forms, as much of the shadow that brooded over the waters, as much of the darkness that settled. So there you have it...thoughts as they are sometimes, often times: incomplete, and oft incoherent.

-RK

Where the ashes settle

Darkness swirls from the edges of a confused state of mind, making tremble the soul like you hadn't felt it tremble before. Stirring in the shadows awakens a sense that there might be something that you hadn't thought of before...But before you have a chance to touch it, you realize you are tired of being burned - tired of marking each new scar, of awaking from the nightmares with sweat on your pillow.

So you go back to sleep.

Letting the emotions recoil within you. Letting the dust settle over the picture frames and letting the heat cool from the burning within. And soon, you start to think to yourself that it's done.

But it isn't.

Not yet.

No, somewhere too deep to tell at first: the fire is still breathing. And somewhere, so hidden that you almost forgot that it's there, the embers are still glowing with life enough to burn you should you reach out to touch them, to try and move them, to try and clear away the remains of what was once the light to which your soul could danse.

And yet, you can't deny the truth that the fire isn't blazing; that the light isn't spinning off the orange and yellow flames anymore - that the room where you once used to place all of your sacred things isn't lit by anything anymore. You knew you had to, sooner or later, admit that the space has grown dark and cold - that the sun couldn't reach the floor through the ash still hovering in the air...

and sooner or later, you had to come to terms with the fact that one day, you're going to have to have to clean up the room where the fire used to burn. You'll have to touch the embers again, and you'll have to move the emblems of things that once stood for eveyrthing that made you 'you'.

One day, you know you'll have to admit to yourself that this room still exists. You'll have to come back here, and you'll have to look around once again - and you'll have to face all of the now-ashen things you've stored here, out of sight for so long.

And some day, you'll have to come back here.

...But maybe for now, it's okay to close the door. Maybe for a while, it's alright to lose the map that leads you here and forget where you laid the key that gets you into the door. And maybe, just for a while, its okay to pretend that this room doesn't really exist. Maybe it's alright - just until the fire dies. Just until the embers cool, and the room is still and quiet; maybe just until the wind stops blowing through, and the ashes and dust settle over everything.

Maybe until then, it's alright to tell yourself to forget. And maybe it's alright to not revisit this room, this place - this old fireplace where the fire used to alight your eyes...at least until the sting of the burns turn into scars that make it easier for you to forget a little bit how much they used to hurt. And maybe, for a while, it can be okay to not walk by here - so you can, at least for a time, tell yourself that you don't have to go back...

Then, at least for now, things can still somehow be alright.

Or maybe not really alright. But at least you will be able to sleep through one more night and wake up to see the brightness of at least one more day - and you can tell yourself even that maybe at the end of it, things will really be all right again.

-RK

Notes Post Hence.

***
A bowl of completely random veggies atop ice is the best way in the world to finish a day at the spa.

***
One should avoid reading trilogies, series, and any continuous story-line when the author has yet to finish the 'story'. If one is foolhearty enough to attempt such an inanely unintelligent act, one will find that after one has completed the reading up to the point of publication, one will only become frustrated, aggitated, and even raging. This could lead to hypertension, sweating, nausea, vomitting, sleep apnea, swelling, irritableness, and an increased sense of self-loathing. In such an event, one should return all such written material to the nearest facility and remove all knowledge of the aforementioned 'story'. Should one ignore these instructions, serious ingury could occur and in extreme cases: death.

***
Good idea: Baking
Bad idea: Burning oneself each and every time one attempts the sport.

***
Meet the Fockers was amusing, if not incredibly rude and absurd. Should you venture into your local theatre to view this movie, please remember that such viewing material is not fit for those of weak stomach, weak moral construct, or under the age of the legal drinking age or under the maturity level thereof. Please, keep this thoughts in mind. Thank you.

***
Butter Cream frosting does not taste like butter. I repeat, Butter Cream frosting - though it may sound as if it ought to - does not taste like butter

***
End transmition...

-RK

Just to prove the point here

***



***



***



***

And there you have it...I guess 0_o

-RK

In the grey fog and the dark night

Well I'm still breathing...but sometimes, I just don't know...

Sometimes, I take stock of my life - sometimes, I just take a long look around and wonder: why? Why do I keep wasting my time with the same things, over and over and over again. Why do I keep going around in the same circles when I know they end up at the same points. And why do I keep asking myself the same questions when I only arrive at the same answers, time and time again.

Sometimes, it just feels un-worth it. I feel like I'm in a race but I'm not running, or I'm in a pit without a rope to pull myself out; or like I'm sinking into quicksand without another hand to give me help I need.

So terrified. Terrified of the future, of the deep darkness that I fear awaits me on the other side of this, of the empty spaces that keep filling up everything that I leave open in my life. Petrified of the future that sits, staring at me, waiting for my approach. Petrified of the vast expanse of nothingness that will confront me when I was hoping for bright sunshine all the while.

Afraid that once I arrive at the place I'm meant to be, there will be nothing but a grey sky awaiting me. Terrified of facing a world where there is no sunlight and no water to wash away all of the stains, and no healing to wipe away all the scars, and no warmth to cover over all the pain.

Like if I ever get off of the ledge I'm sitting on, the cliff with crumble and leave me falling into the open blackness of an endless night below me. Like if I try to raise my head and look up the rain will come pouring down again. And if I keep my eyes down trying to follow the path, I will stumble in the dark fog anyway.

Like a storm full of cold rain and icy wind and thick, grey fog that the eyes cannot penetrate is sitting over the top of the next hill that I am about to mount - just sitting there waiting to entrench me once again, hiding my eyes from the light, hiding my soul from the warmth, hiding my heart from any love...

The deepening riffs in my mind don't help. The open chasms, etched in my heart - causing flutters for reasons I don't comprehend don't help. The stones in the pit of my stomach when I start thinking about it and the moths eating away at my nerves...along with the weight of this cross on my shoulders and the metal hanging over my heart doesn't aid in lifting my mind from the burden, or lifting my knees from the ground or my palms from the black dirt they're planted in.

Oft times, I wonder why or if I'm not slowly dying...

Or maybe I am going numb, not feeling things so they'll all go away. Maybe it's insanity, rocking my mind to sleep like a little child's lullaby at night. Or maybe, it's all just part of being a human in this screwed up world that we live in. Maybe falling to pieces is all part of picking them back up again...

But that seems a little hopeful at times. It seems a little over optimistic, and maybe even a little naive. Like I'm still in preschool trying to play patti-cake in high school. Like I'm sitting in college, with purple ribbons tied in bows in my hair. Like I'm still holding my teddybear in the middle of a battlefield, and wondering why I'm there.

Maybe it is just me....or maybe, it's part of watching the path of life wending its way through the darkness, through the forest, through the nightmares in your mind...and coming out on the other side. Who knows. Maybe it really is part of growing up, part of getting it together, part of life. Maybe it really is okay to feel this way...but then again, maybe it isn't...

-RK

Accomplishments and new tasks

I am about to delve into the project I have described. Wish me luck!

Also, I am so proud of my aquisition of the most awesome dress in the world. It was a struggle to get it, but it was all worth the fight. The running from the top level to second level of the store...and the questioning of things that didn't seem right.

Really, in the end - I think we both felt accomplished.

Well done! Oh, and Cheers Shady-Lady!!!

-RK

Because I said so...

I took the quiz.



There we are then. The facts are in. The results read. And it's true.

Told you so.

Hmm. Now if only I could get my hands on Raphael...

-RK

Soul Calibur II

So I played Soul Calibur II for the first time tonight, and I kicked some serious tail. Talim and Raphael are truly my two favorite characters in the game. They are both so freaking rad! In fact, they have inspired to me write in a long-abandoned genre: fanfiction.

Now I realize this sounds frightening, but the prospect of Raphael and Talim falling in love; then, exploring the finer points of a relationship between them is really something I cannot pass up. I mean the contrast of age and personality is enough to feed a fire the size of a state; enough to get the creative juices flowing in a riverbed that has been dry for uncountable years.

And so, in the back of my mind: I am scheming.

It will really be easier if I can find profile info on the website, so I don't have to scribble down sketchy notes before mah bud has to return the much beloved game to the much appreciated movie store.

Sigh. The trials of information seekers.

Until then, I will be formulating the best way to go about addressing a romance that will sprout from the inevitable clash of cause and journey. Yet...I will have to address the gap in age - and 15 and 32 is a really bad combination in my mind. May take alterations to heart...or something like that.

Either way, they would be such a sexy couple that I can't turn it down.

And if you have played the game, can you even almost tell me that
a)Talim is not me
b)Raphael is not wearing a ton of eye-liner, and it doesn't look great.

And now, off to scheme, plan, and plot.

-RK

I've gone utterly and completely batty!

I want attention! And I want it now!

I want to get out of this room. I want to go do something. I want someone to call me on the telephone at 2:00 in the morning, and I want to talk to them...about anything...for hours!

It doesn't really matter at this point!

I want someone to come knocking on the bedroom door, burst in with show tunes and start singing "Home on the Range", for all I care!

As long as it is loud, exciting, and involves real, actual human beings - I really don't care!

I want to perform the Canon in D Minor. I want to go dancing in a rave. I want to be stuck in downtown LA on a cold blustery night!

My gosh, I just want to feel like I am actually alive again! Like there is some blood in my veins. Like I'd notice a sensation if it came across my skin! I want to bleed or sweat or cry or scream or...

Do something! Feel something!

I want to talk to someone. Anyone! I want to hear someone's voice, like they are actually there - somewhere, alive. Like I'm actually a person, not a synapse in a computerized chip that just exists to make monitary movements all day long.

I want to feel like I'm more than a brain or a bunch of electrical impulses. I want someone to remind me that I have a body - with arms and legs and a neck and a back...

I really just want to feel alive again. And that's my problem. I've been cooped up for so many hours that I don't even have a concept of the time anymore! I would go to sleep, but honestly - I would just end up being bored.

I'd read, but I'd be bored then too. I'd breathe...but even then, I'd be bored!

I can't escape. I've been sitting in this room with the light on for far too long...

...and really, I just can't escape from going completely and totally insane.

-RK

A few words to the moderator

I'm eating ketchup chips, and I really don't have much steam left in me.

So here is just a few words, because I can't put out much else at the moment:

kittens
rags
muffin
turn-table
pumpkin patch

That's about all I can do. It will make sense next year. I promise

*rolls eyes* Oh, nevermind.

-RK

You will notice the following:

Significant updates have been made to each of my Blogger pages. Please, if you will, check them out and see how they feel.

Yes, yes, that's right. I finally actually have the time, and am therefore bursting with updates that I have been dying to make. I have made tough decisions and made the look a little nicer I feel. If the changes are a struggle, you can always drop me a line, and I'm sure we can talk it out =0D

Otherwise, just enjoy the fact that I actually care about these pages, and that I spend far too much of the time in which I could be doing far better things tapping away, updating things that are really not life threatening.

But I hope throught them to one day have the most awesomest blog in all the world and take over the...

...Wait, you never heard that. Ignore anything you just read! WAH!

-RK

The verdict is in...

The results have been weighed, and I have spent much of my time pondering over the new look of what is my baby.

You will notice newly renovated colors. I hope that you will marvel at them as much as I do; truly, simply because they make me happy.

The schema for Crying has been duelly updated, and after looking at what the schema used to be I am both pleased with my progress and horrified at what I used to consider acceptable.

I only hope that you will be able to enjoy the new lively schema of this place as much as I have worked to make it thus.

In short, *bow* enoy.

-RK

The greater points of a color

I posted in this font color on smoke zone, and so I thought I would try it here for size - and see what we all thing of it.

Oh, and I'm interested in your opinion too. *all characters inside my psyche not*

So really, I don't have all too much to say. I'm being lazy and really just feeling like time is going much too fast. But what can you do?

Not much I realize. I suppose I'll just have to live with things as they are - and figure out where I fit into them as life continues on. And I suppose now really isn't such a good time to be contemplating life in general.

sigh. Really, I'm just trying on a new font color and don't really need to devle into the greater points of my I am miserable...do I?

I think not. This is enough to see what it looks like, and we'll just go from there.

Until later, or until I decide what I want to do about this color...or about my life - I'm outta here.

-RK

Thoughts on what I've been on about again

I don't like life updates.

They are boring and annoying - and really, I'm forced to wonder if useless blatherings and whinig and angst-ridden babbling isn't better.

I mean, true: both are equally annoying and frustrating. And both are least likely to be read of al blogs in the world...

but then, what ought to I do? Ought to I blather on listlessly? Ought to I update every detail of my bore-stung life? Ought to I do neither and simply state randomness that makes no sense at all?

Or should I revert to poesy and such alliterated thoughts that sound higher than typical thought?

Or should I just assume that the world is a dark enough place already...and never resume my tattered dialogues on life?

Sigh. So much to think on, so many options...

I s'pose I've already decided, though...haven't I?

*gazes thoughtfully up at the previous words* It would appear so.

-RK

So it's finally '05...

Okay, okay, okay, so it's the new year. Happy? ...well, we'll see, won't we?

But anyway, I know it's been like a million lifetimes since I actually posted. Sorry about the absence - but I'm busy.

But for once it's not with researching stupid things no one in their right mind would really give a crap about or pouring over useless books on even more useless subjects, or even cramming a test that I will never have a chance of getting better than a 65% on. No, I'm actually doing some things that I could consider...well, enjoyable.

So, thus far the new year isn't going to hell. Not yet - but there is always the rest of the 363 days to go wrong and make life a miserable pit of despair.

So...in other words, I'm not all that hopeful. But, like I said, we'll just have to see. Maybe all of my dreams will come true. Maybe I'll be blissfully happy. Maybe I'll move into a beach condo and have my life swept away in history.

Yeah. That'd be something more like it.

Tidal waves, destruction, despair.


Well, at least that seems to fit the current trend.

But we can always hope for a upturn in fate...

...can't we?

Hmm. Maybe not.

-RK