Coloring

I have always loved coloring books: the thick outlines of simple images just ready to be colored. Waiting. Asking for it. It passes time and calms the soul. Nothing sounds quite like Crayolas moving across the slightly brownish paper. Jumbo activity books or simple ones that tell a story about your favorite cartoon character. Simple, and sometimes educational.

And the crayons... the box of 96 of Crayola's finest. The one with the built-in sharpener that didn't really sharpen anything, but made that horrible wax mess inside the box. Getting a new box was just amazing. Opening up the box for the first time and seeing all the crayons lined up perfectly according to color. I never understood why the gold and black crayons were together. What did they have to do with each other? Maybe that was the point. Or maybe that was the minibox for the colors that didn't really have a place: the misfits.

I had a Precious Moments coloring book when I was little. I loved it. I got it from a KOA campground where we stayed on the way back from visiting my Granny. I would spend so long on each picture, because everything had to be just perfect. Just so. Every picture reminded me of the log cabin we stayed in. The cabin, and the small convenience store that the book came from: the one with the straws of honey that I had never seen before and the pixie stix.

I don't remember what happened to the book. At times like this, I wish I had it, though. Something familiar. Something different. Something... anything.

Even now, when Dina or Sammy are laying down on the floor or sitting at a table with a coloring book and crayons or colored pencils or markers all spread out in front of them, I feel the urge to go sit down with them and color my worries away. To just focus on nothing but the image in front of me; be it an elephant at the zoo or a toucan in a tree.

The sun is coming up.

How can things be going so horribly wrong?

Good night indeed.

Memorial Day

Story here.

Bush: Fallen troops' sacrafice helps build better world

Better? Really?

"From their deaths must come a world where the cruel dreams of tyrants and terrorists are frustrated and foiled, where our nation is more secure from attack and where the gift of liberty is secured for millions who have never known it," he said. "This is our country's calling. It's our country's destiny."

Tyrants and terrorists? Who is the one using fear against their own people here? FOLLOW US, OR BE A TERRORIST TOO. THEY WILL COME. Wasn't he the one that said they would come for people's children? What is that, if not the use of fear?

When has our country been more uptight and scared?

Calling? Destiny? Who comes up with this stuff? Seriously...

"For the fallen, we will avenge you; for the lost, we will find you."

Vengance. Is that what war is about? Getting back at those who oppose us? An eye for an eye? Or an eye for a fingernail? Giving so much more than you get... they do something to us, and we do so much more to them.

This is not a day of celebration. Memorial Day shall be a day of mourning. Mourning for the soldiers. For the draftees of long ago. For those who went against their will. For those who thought they were doing a good deed.

But most importantly, those who got stuck in the middle of raging battles. The ones who had nothing to do with the war. The ones who didn't ask for their country to be ripped apart and raped by the savagery of war.

For them, I will mourn.

And for my country, I will also mourn.

Eventually, they will leave. Eventually, there will be nothing left for them to fight and they will leave, claiming "Mission accomplished!" Infrastructure ruined. Houses destroyed. Cities full of people with nothing to support them.

What will they do then? Will they just leave and leave it up to the people... those who never asked for any of this... to help themselves? Will it be a case of, "Hey, we ruined your country and now we're out of here. Have a good day?" Is that how this will end?

Truly, only time will tell.

At least election day 2008 gets closer by the moment. There is peace in that knowledge.

Footdigits

I sit here, waiting for my toenails to dry. I painted them once tonight. Then I took the polish off and painted them again. Now all I have to do is put on a top coat. You know, to make sure nothing chips and to make them all shiny. That matters. It really does. Then I have to wait for that to dry. And I hve to not touch anything with my toes for a while.

Seems like a lot of work just for toes. Nobody really sees them anyway. And it's not like I even did a very good job. But they're there and they're coated and shiny and they look pretty. Although I said it does matter, does it really?

No, it does not.

Because at the end of the day, they are nothing but dirty old toes.

An Artistic Response to the Horror that was Spiderman 3

Way too many plots.
Crap crap crap crap emo crap crap.
What the hell - Harry died!

This has Nothing to do with Nachos

I have lost my words.

I have lost so much.

I don't even know when it happened, but here I stand... empty-handed.

Wishing and hoping and praying.

Lost.

Maybe a haiku would help.

Or nachos.

Haha I lied.

Muddled

Maybe this will all make more sense if I just type and type and do not stop until I have run out of things to say and do not use punctuation no matter how much it pains me not to will that make things better or will it not I do not know oh my God I stopped typing for a second and looked to the left not good not good at all I am scared I am scared and worried and I do not feel particuarly pretty maybe that is why I tan so much or maybe I tan because I secretly want malanoma but either way I am not one of those disgusting leathery tarts that will look fifty by the time they are twenty five gotta love the spf holy hell this makes no sense what was the point of this in the first place right being scared and insecure and all of that I do not know what I am going to do in the future but I do feel more confident about it until everybody that matters seems to be telling me that I should try something else when I haven't even started trying this I want to paint I want to write I want to take pictures again and maybe I will be able to at Sammy's birthday party today which is in what maybe four hours oh wait no less anyway it means birthday cake I could use some of that I want to finish those letters that I was working on because I know that I have something amazing there I know deep down inside that if I got my shit straight and worked on them properly they would be amazing and each one would evoke a different emotion and everybody would think I was so clever for thinking of it I don't want to research and see if it has been done before because it seemed like such an original idea and I know that if somebody did it before me I would feel slightly discouraged I do not want to compare it to anything and then I want to work at getting it published I should work on that other story too the one that I was so intent on finishing but sort of puttered out once I reached a certain point he would want me to finish it sigh I love him I realize more and more each and every day that I am crazy about him and I hate this distance because it just hurts so much and seems never-ending because seriously speaking when am I going to see him next HEY YOU WHEN AM I GOING TO SEE YOU I MISS YOU COME HOME sigh summer winter which one I do not know I just know that I don't want to end up stuck here where I will not be able to see you or look into your eyes and oh my God think about this how am I going to get credit for my phone to call you whenever I want I want it will just make things so much more difficult I don't want to go I do but I don't I know it is what is best for them but I also know it is not best for me being with you is what is best for me and when did "he" turn into "you" oh I see where it was where I started yelling at you yeah that seems about right I just wish this next year could zoom past and I wish you could see what I do here how it isn't nothing and I wish I could just wake up and you would be here and we could start finally start and things would be amazing sure we will fight sure we will argue but we will do it together and that is what matters.

Kthx. <3

Nowhere Fast

You run and run and push and shove through so many people, grasping at the future that you see. Then you turn around, and look behind yourself, hoping to see all the ground that you have covered. All you see is that you are right where you started from.

You think it over, and decide to run some more: pounding the ground as hard as you can with your feet until you can feel the blood pumping through them. It is like that slow motion running you feel in a dream, pushing with all your might. You work your way through large groups of people, all shouting at you.

"Do it another way!"

"You're not going to make it, so you might as well quit while you'e ahead."

"What are you going to do once you get there, anyway?"

You cover your ears with your hands and keep on running. After what seems like forever, and with tears streaming down your face, you stop and turn around, and are still where you began.

It is quite certain.

You are going absolutely nowhere fast.

There is Livestock in My Head

What an amazing feeling it is to have thoughts and ideas swirling around in your head.

What a nuisance it is to be unable to corral them and form anything remotely logical or coherent.

Sighface

Where the hell have all my opinions gone?