joanna divine's Journal|
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|Friday, September 2nd, 2005|
|It's been a while
It's been a while since I posted, but I thought you might wonder what I've been up to. Here's my latest picture:
Go with God.
|Wednesday, December 1st, 2004|
this account was awesome, why did i ever switch?
|Wednesday, April 21st, 2004|
|far too late
those april rain showers
they still smell the same
that monday of hell week
still feels the same
strong swallows and slow blinks
i'll be through, i've been before
but i'll still wonder
what it would've been like
knowing you as i knew you once
before the days and the ways
it's been years and yet, still
i can't help but wonder.
i thought perhaps we could go away from here. to dream those dreams i stopped that day. i hoped such grand hopes and since then, i've lukewarm showers and walks alone. or that night, that first night, when there was a fire (different year, but still the same) and then i thought this would be over, i'd be able to dream and live again. sadly, however, we could not just go on. there are inevitable changes that don't change back whenever these things happen. this deeper sadness, a look of wisdom that's only begun to light across my face, that is the change. and those memories, those memories of choices and the way things had to be, those are indelibly printed on my mind. right up front, near my forehead. but every now and then, the spring rain lets my thoughts out again. and it's a though i shut down. i did shut down, i remember doing it, ever so carefully. i said, i will not write for you. i will not let you have had anythign to do with anything good coming from me. i will not let the pain you caused live on and turn into a success. i swore because i don't want anyone to look back and say, this is why she did, or this is what she menant. i want to be ts eliot. i want to be done with livig and done with dying and gone already, but living on in the memories. but i cannot leave until i've left a memory, other than just the ones that bring chocolate because i helped them kindly.
if you would say, perhaps,
that you felt it too?
that you missed it too?
or even, that every now and then
that spring rain reminds you
or maybe that those buds of leaves
and tree branches remind you
of the things you left behind
my friends once thought they'd play a funny joke on me. and instead of life and growth they brought me death and dying. it was almost immediately after that i heard nothing from you and that i knew... i wrote for you then, hoping perhaps that it would remind you of what you were straying... but i never showed you because that was the night (two nights ago, really) when you looked at me and chose her. i knew you were chosing her when you cast your glance across to her as you were standing with me, i knew in the way you looked at her, in the way she walked by with her hips swinging because she knew she had you. and later, when i would come across the two of you in a hallway, locked in your own lovers' world, i could never pass. it was beyond me to hate you for it, but oh how i hated her. the cunning snake with cunning swerves and cunning nerves. i could've taken her. she offered once later to do me a favor. i looked her up and down, lifted the side of my lip a little in an expression of contempt and said, thanks, but no thanks. and then i walked away. and for me, that was all i needed.
perhaps you deserved to be together, perhaps you needed one another at the time. i will never remember quite so well when we spoke after that as i did and do all our conversations before. i'm sure at some time i remember you apologizing, i'm sure you meant it. but what i had offered wasn't enough for that before, so the delay was merely proof that i had been far, far less.
and past that, on that different year, with that different you, i didn't believe it was happening. and while love was love it wasn't the love that love had shown to me could be love as in you and our love. or, at least that love i had thought was love when it felt so strongly of love. it wasn't the same, hasn't been half the same power. but then, since then, i have found that love. i have found love of that power, but i had shut myself away because of you because of then because of what had happened not with us, without us and far away from us. i've been shut so far away, i'm not sure that i could even remember how to be unshut, how to open and live again. i want to be better, more, efficient, love for him, because his love for me is the love love that i love, love. but my love for him is far more imperfect than the love love showed me when love was yours, love.
but maybe this spring rain will quell.
maybe this spring rain, although it pounds the memories,
will re-open the heart within me
the heart begging for release.
|Monday, November 3rd, 2003|
let me be your
i've gone too far to turn back now.
|Thursday, August 14th, 2003|
another paged turn, another coffee burn
|Thursday, August 7th, 2003|
so i called this campgrounds phone number. and this woman answered and when i asked if it was the campgrounds, she said no, there is no campgrounds, it's a holding company, so please take us off your list. and i said, well, i don't have a 'list', i found you in the phonebook because i was looking for campgrounds. and she said, 'well, that's wrong, because we're not in the phonebook and we're not a campground.' and i interrupted her and told her it was a phonebook onlines, they're listed under campgrounds, thank you and goodbye.
she was an ass.
|Monday, July 28th, 2003|
|Friday, July 25th, 2003|
|Wednesday, July 23rd, 2003|
-- Name: Joanna
-- Birthdate: 08 june 1984
-- Birthplace: fort wayne, indiana
-- Current Location: fort wayne, indiana
-- Eye Color: brown
-- Hair Color: brown
-- Height: 5’2"
-- Righty or Lefty: righty
-- Zodiac Sign: gemini
-- Your heritage: hispanic, causacian
-- The shoes you wore today: black heels
-- Your weakness: love
-- Your fears: lack of love, faith, trust
-- Your perfect pizza: god, anything, i'm so hungry
-- Goal you'd like to achieve: living.
-- Your most overused phrase:
-- Your thoughts first waking up: so tired.
-- Your best physical feature:
-- Your bedtime: 9pm
-- Your most missed memory: why would anyone miss a memory?
-- Pepsi or Coke: dr pepper
-- McDonald's or Burger King: wendy's or subway
-- Single or Relationship: relationship
-- Adidas or Nike: don't care
-- Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: yerba matte
-- Chocolate or vanilla: strawberry
-- Cappuccino or coffee: yerba matte
-- smoke: yes
-- Cuss: yes
-- Sing: no
-- Take a shower everyday: no
-- Have a crush(es): yes
-- Want to go to college?: yes
-- Like high school: more or less
-- Want to get married: maybe
-- Believe in yourself: every now and again
-- Get motion sickness: no
-- Think you're attractive:
-- Think you're a health freak: no
-- Get along with your parents: more or less
-- Like thunderstorms: only as long as it doesn't hurt my computer
In the past month...
-- Made Out: yes
-- Gone on a date: yes
-- Gone to the mall?: no
-- Eaten an entire box of Oreos: no
-- Eaten sushi: no
-- Been on stage: no
-- Gone skating: no
-- Made homemade cookies: no
-- Gone skinny dipping: no
-- Dyed your hair: no
-- Stolen anything: no
-- Played a game that required removal of clothing: no
-- If so, was it mixed company:
-- Been caught "doing something": no
-- Been called a tease: yes
-- Gotten beaten up: no
-- Shoplifted: no
-- Age you hope to be married:
-- Numbers and Names of Children:
-- Describe your dream wedding:
-- How do you want to die:
-- Where you want to go to college: fort wayne, i guess, since that's where i'm going.
-- What do you want to be when you grow up: photographer
-- What country would you most like to visit:
In a person
-- Best eye color?
-- Best hair color?
-- Short or long hair:
-- Best weight:
-- Best articles of clothing:
-- Best first date location:
-- Best first kiss location:
-- Number of people I could trust with my life: 1,000
-- Number of CDs that I own: 82
-- Number of piercing: 2
-- Number of tattoos: 1
-- Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper?: 1
-- Number of scars on my body: many
|thoughts, ramblings, hates, etc.
there are times when it amazes me how much i sincerely dislike people. i dislike people who are overly cheerful, remind me of bright colors, talk to me without me being curious at all, babble, create manifold soap operas of their lives, are superficial, dress in clothing from magazines, like sports because it's popular, like anything because it's popular, watch all reality television, want to do something with their lives because they saw it on tv, watch more tv than read, don't read, try to argue without listening, don't understand debates, haven't read classics, haven't seen classic movies, are prejudiced against people or things without knowing anything about them, won't listen to new music, are as judgemental as i, wear little clothing, wear too much makeup, don't pay attention to other people, laugh at other people relentlessly, are simple, pretend to know me, don't get my jokes and many many other things.
i really hate it when people don't get my jokes. usually, i end up telling jokes and they fall, not because it seriously isn't funny, but because it's usually just so damn odd that people don't know if they should laugh, cry or pat me on the back in a comforting manner. then, i usually end up just making really weird noises and people look at me in that i'm-not-looking-at-you-but-god-i-can't-h
and then i go back to myself and laugh about it. quite frankly, i'm quite happy by myself. i go back to myself all the time. i prefer to watch people and listen to people than to talk to people or need to contact them. i don't like talking on the phone, i don't like meeting new people, but god, i love writing. thank god for aim, otherwise i would have no friends.
this concept of friends has long been a curiousity of mine. growing up, i suppose i had friends, but they were always people i could do without, people i would hate one day and sort of be ok with the next. then, when i was in high school, i met some people that i liked a little more, but i moved away and they all forgot about me. at the academy, i met friends that were the best friends i've ever had. and that was fantastic. but then we all moved away and now i'm back at square one with only the friends i have from the academy, because everyone else has forgotten about me.
it's like when i changed schools and i'd go back to the old school for some reason, and i always thought no one would remember me, but i remembered all of them. i remembered their names, their faces, the things they liked, their habits and who their friends were. when i went to high school, i became reaquainted with many of those people, and they really didn't remember me. and i had made stories and pretended to have had such great experiences with them, but it turned out that those were all in my head. i was living in my mind instead of with people, and no one did remember me.
i have the best stories. they're not really memories, because they didn't happen, but i like to pretend that they did and that they are. you see, the only true memories i have are the ones i wish i didn't have and so i made up new ones, because i didn't have any friends and i didn't like it. i guess that's why i live in my own little world and why i don't quite mesh well with the rest of the world.
i just wished they had remembered me. somehow, it would've all been ok if they had remembered me. it would've nearly validated my created memories. i'm jealous of people who do have friends. who have had friends. who are able to see their friends. even my friends from the academy, we've all separated and moved away, and people just don't keep in touch well. i don't keep in touch well, but i just remember how none of the people from when i was little remembered me and i don't think anyone else will remember me, either. and maybe my great friendships were made up again, although i don't think they were, but what would i do if i sent them a letter and they replied by saying they didn't remember me? or if they just had nothing to say and these people i thought were my great friends became the people i didn't like, because they were only superficial and asked me about the weather and how things were while skirting the real subjects like why was i in the hospital, why did i move back home unexpectedly, why did i not receive grades for the classes that i took last semester? why am i doing what i am doing now? where will i be after this?
no one asks these questions, except the dedicated few who i know haven't forgotten me. but i also think that they are too busy with their own lives. i feel as though i wait around for friends and josh to call me or talk to me, because i don't do anything. i don't have plans, i don't have a life of my own. instead, i wait around until someone wants to have the time of day with me and then i'm right there, because i have no plans.
in a way, i reverse this by not going to see my mother. i am in control then, and someone else is waiting for me to have the time of day with them. it isn't fair of me, it isn't nice and it's cruel, but i can't help it. i just don't want to wait around for other people all the time for the rest of my life. and i don't understand why my boyfriend, if he is perfect for me, doesn't make me feel that he wants the time of day with me when i'm available and not just when he's available, but i guess maybe he just doesn't understand that. i suppose i am a complicated individual, since i have made up my world in my head.
there's another thing that's bothering me, while i'm on the topic. how in god's name is someone supposed to be ok when the people they react with every day fluxuate their moods every five minutes? one of the people i live with is like this. this person is either irritated, angry, or happy and you never know which. but she is always suspicious and snooping, even though for most of your life you never had anything to hide. there is this huge tidal wave of distrust coming from her direction and even a feeling of loathing. as though you could help the things that have happened to bring the two of you together. this is why being home is so hard, because there are all these things to deal with, all these things right in my face telling me that they want my attention and want me to hate myself.
and they wondered why i wanted to kill myself. sometimes i still feel like it. i feel like i'm so far away from everything and that maybe all this everything isr ealyl just some figment of my imagination and that nothing is real, because once upon a time, i stepped off the reality train and am not able to get back on anymore. i think, sometimes, that's the way things work. i just want to be able to do what i want to do. i want to be able to make something of myself. i want to be as alone as i feel, but instead, i have to be around other popel. no, i want to be alone. that's all there is to it. i want to be alone and i want to be living by myself and caring for myself. i want to stop andswering the phone, don't answer emails or any other means of communication. i just want to be as alone as i feel. and maybe then, if i started to communicate with other poeple, little by little, on my own time, it would feel btter. maybe then i wouldn't have to hate myself.
i want to be the one seed, flying in the breeze, unsure of the destination, but decidely alone in a place where no one is ever alone.
|Tuesday, July 22nd, 2003|
i have this addiction. it's called treasuregames.com.
if you'd like to try it, give me your e-mail address. i'll be using you to get more money to play more games. i like it. a lot.
|Tuesday, July 15th, 2003|
my goal is to leave you the strangest comments and see what you do with them. i think it's cool.
ps i copied this format from lindsay.
|Monday, July 14th, 2003|
|Wednesday, July 9th, 2003|
"The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch.
At the head of the table was a large pile of apples.
The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE. God is watching."
Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies.
A child had written a note, "Take all you want. God is watching the apples." "
Ok, Chris Wang definitely told us this story in Physics... and he said HIS DAUGHTER had done it... He said his wife called him and told him about it...
|Tuesday, July 8th, 2003|
that's me in three weekends.
|Tuesday, July 1st, 2003|
there are times when mysteries are miniseries
i've changed my mind.
|Thursday, June 5th, 2003|
i want something to celebrate my birthday.
|Wednesday, May 28th, 2003|
Does anyone have the song "One Night In Bangkok"?
|Wednesday, May 14th, 2003|
I'm thinking perhaps this journal is done. Perhaps I need to move on.
This morning's typing tests reveal: 104 words per minute. 96% accuracy.
I'm so bored, I need to find something actually productive or good to do, instead of typing away into oblivion, because that's not all that exciting, either.
I spent some time looking at my journal back in time. Yes, I was time travelling. All at once I was there again, and I didn't understand how I felt so strongly then. My emotions are now beginning to be flexible again. My mind is beginning to be clear again. I need to work on that, but I spend so much time at group that I can't have time for myself.
It's a lonely road, but I'm not alone.
I have a new journal.