[ updated on January 20th,2009 ;; 07PM ] I will never leave you. comment -

[ updated on January 2nd,2009 ;; 09PM ] I've set myself a deadline. It's called February 2. I have to make a decision by then. I have to arrive at some sort of final understanding. I'm no longer a child. 20 is older and a hell of a lot less convenient to be thinking about irrelevant things. I need to answer these questions for myself. I need to find the answers. If i have no answers by then... I don't know. But something must change. comment -

[ updated on October 30th,2008 ;; 12AM ] I've changed the name of this here thingy... Reading the past things that I've written (the latest of the entries) seem more like they are induced by dreams rather than a state of bitchiness. That's interesting how life has morphed and become this... dreams rather than a world of hate and ugliness. Well it looks like I am no closer to figuring out dreams than I was a few months ago. We are discussing Freud yet again, this time in feminism so it is only appropriate that I have an incomprehensible dream. The other interesting thing here is that the dream seemed, or at least I imagine, to have been guided by my own volition (in the sense that it was chosen by me actively). I want to make the distinction here without causing any more confusion. Yes our unconsciousness chooses our dreams, and yes this particular one was chosen, as all the others, by my unconsciousness. However, I played some role in the choice. This is difficult to disambiguate. It is unclear as to what I actually contributed. I think that is one of the reasons this dream strikes me. I simply know I made an active, rather than a passive/unconscious, contribution. And if so, what is my part in the choice of this particular dream telling me? I can't escape the feeling that I am somehow unaware of what goes on beneath the surface of my mind. Well thank you Captain Obvious- but no I don't mean like that. I mean like there are things I ought to be aware of (questionable ought) but am not. I actively choose and yet I cannot comprehend the choice subject matter. Why not choose something more unambiguous. The other interesting factor involved here is that this dream came the same night I spoke to Sergey about dreams and controlling them in general. Same conversation we have had often when I was a child. But, this time, the evening after my dream (namely today), he yells at me about not having listened to him when I was younger because I was now influenced by some sort of sexual force that was not present before. I am not sure if this force represents some sort of inhibition in my abilities to control the dream, or whether it is detrimental in any way, but regardless it had a negative impact on him. How he guessed my dream content so accurately I do not know. Hardly the point however, even if he had guessed accurately- which he did- that does not explain other finer points of the dream (although it does explain the sexual content). Freud only takes me so far in this and then lets me hop off. If I am to believe that all of the content, finer points included, are sexually induced then I am in a bit of a pickle. That puts me farther from understanding it than I was to begin with and that is strangely upsetting. comment -

[ updated on April 2nd,2008 ;; 09PM ] You are always with me <3 I carry you in my pocket cause your so tiny :P comment -

For it all! [ updated on March 19th,2008 ;; 10PM ] More than 2 years and I'm still plagued by nightmares. So much pain and torture. God, how did I ever last that long. And to think that I used to blame myself... that I thought it was me! I don't want to remember that pain. Or that loneliness. I'd rather kill myself then close my eyes and see it every time. I have successfully learned to wake myself up when the dream gets too terrible. Dan was saying how Freud is all about latent dream meanings. Well I'd love to know what the hell all this means Mr. Cocaine addict. They scare me somewhere deep down... to think that that person could ever be in my life again! God I hate him. I'm scared of him in a totally irrational type of way. Manipulative, controlling, disgusting, weak, FAKE! He has no idea who he is! And to think I let that control me. Disgusted with myself and it all! I should have ran sooner. I should have listened to my friends who CARED about me and KNEW me! I blamed myself for cheating! Hell I should have done worse! Should have run soooooooo far that he'd never find me. That disgusting weakling. That prick. Made me believe I didn't deserve to be loved. Made me believe I would never be loved! Made me believe I deserved to be with THAT! God I hate him. And no I don't wish good things for him. I wish him to be tortured the way he tortured me. He took something that I will never have back! If not for Danny I would have probably died. Given up all hope as I did for so long. He's the only person that could have saved me. That made me feel wanted and loved. My soulmate. My everything. Before him should no longer exist. But sadly it does. And it haunts me. In my worst nightmares. I wake up and Im back there. Thinking of ways to run. Of ways to leave and break it off. comment -

[ updated on March 11th,2008 ;; 06PM ] You got a fast car I want a ticket to anywhere Maybe we make a deal Maybe together we can get somewhere Anyplace is better Starting from zero got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something But me myself I got nothing to prove You got a fast car And I got a plan to get us out of here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money We won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living You see my old man's got a problem He live with the bottle that's the way it is He says his body's too old for working I say his body's too young to look like his My mama went off and left him She wanted more from life than he could give I said somebody's got to take care of him So I quit school and that's what I did You got a fast car But is it fast enough so we can fly away We gotta make a decision We leave tonight or live and die this way I remember we were driving driving in your car The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk City lights lay out before us And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I had a feeling that I belonged And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone You got a fast car And we go cruising to entertain ourselves You still ain't got a job And I work in a market as a checkout girl I know things will get better You'll find work and I'll get promoted We'll move out of the shelter Buy a big house and live in the suburbs You got a fast car And I got a job that pays all our bills You stay out drinking late at the bar See more of your friends than you do of your kids I'd always hoped for better Thought maybe together you and me would find it I got no plans I ain't going nowhere So take your fast car and keep on driving You got a fast car But is it fast enough so you can fly away You gotta make a decision You leave tonight or live and die this way comment -

[ updated on March 10th,2008 ;; 11PM ] My earliest years growing up on my dacha left such a magical impact on my life. Sometimes I don't believe that there ever could have been such a perfect, romantic, adventure-filled place. I can remember hundreds of episodes from this ideal place and time. When you are a kid, at least I hope this is true for all of you, the world is filled with wonder and excitement. Everything I touched turned to some sort of heartwarming memory. And Dan asks why I read V.C. Andrews, and I'll tell him... For me there was an attic, and like that, it was filled with every wonder a world can hold. It's not something I can possibly impart to a computer screen that appears to be the very opposite of it all. I wish I could have stayed that hyperactive and adventurous kid forever. I still love forests and mountains and rivers (thats why we go camping so much) but I can't quite get that same perfection back. The world had been made for me. My first steps were made outside that house. The first time I rode my orange tricycle was down the path in our garden from the bania to the house. I remember racing my friends and ALWAYS winning. I remember the berries and mushrooms and what not that we used to pick seasonally. I remember when the first snow would melt and leave the most perfect little white flowers that were literally called "undersnow" Oh and how the cherumuha bloomed and smelled absolutly amazing turning the entire bridge and river white. I remember coming with my little shovel to dig out the door from the snow. I remember sitting on my grannys bed and looking at the abandoned house next door(its own wonder trust me)in the fall when the leaves would turn perfect colors. It's why I love the fall. I remember being so many things that I'd be here forever. And then all the wonder left the world. I was dragged to some sort of strange concrete jungle with no trees (granted a beauty of it's own -the ocean). My daddy left so things weren't perfect any more. And the magic... well I tried to keep it alive (as some of my best friends will remember) We did play games and run around and pretend. But it wasn't the same. And it won't ever be So I looked Beloostrov up as I was told to and found a bunch of maps of a place I didn't recognize and pictures that I couldn't connect with any memories. But one. The picture of the rail station with the white letters chipped and the building barely standing. (Now it's new and modern and repainted). I remembered the track, the same track me and Anna walked to give away tiny kittens that we had found in the woods. I remembered waiting for the last time outside those rail station's doors as my mom bought us the tickets. I remember feeling so terribly sad. I could only imagine that I would never see it again. And it might be cliche that I'd remember that but I don't care. I was 6 and my world was being torn from me. No more fantasies about what lived on the other side of the attic, no more wondering about some mysterious abusive great granny that died without even knowing me (YEAH V.C. ANDREWS for getting it right). No more knee scrapes and Bible stories before bed. No more little house that grandpa made only for me. No more spinning really fast on that tire swing until I felt sick. No more pretend. When we go back next year I have to see it. And I know I'll cry because it's gone. But just to be there. To know that it had been real. That it is real, still. And for my children... there will be such a magical place too. I know it. I refuse to live in this concrete jungle. I want their imaginations to roam like mine did. I want them to have the most magic filled lives. Maybe I can be my own V.C. Andrews book. comment -

All Around me [ updated on February 29th,2008 ;; 11PM ] Avoiding doing work. Im terrible. I think I'll have to stay up reading it anyway. Why 2 days in a row? Boredom and loneliness kiddies. Someone to talk to= You. comment -

2 entries today I know! [ updated on February 28th,2008 ;; 11PM ] I know I know... the last one was long enough but I really wanted to write this down cause I've attempted to before and have not succeeded. I don't falsely perceive myself to be a kid any more, I don't even think I'm young any more when I compare myself to the kids on TV, whole new generations where we were once those generations. And Btown is for the masses of teens. But we are not too old we are not too old. Anyway with that in mind. I know I have attempted to write this before but I think I want to try again. I want to go to Bordertown, so please oh please Mz. Windling make it real. Make it real for every kid thats every felt alone and make it real for any kid thats ever felt their parents didn't give a shit and make it real for any kid that isnt sure of themselves or what they will do. Me? I don't want to run because I'm lonely Mz. Windling. I'm not really interested in your Truebloods either, no offense meant. I don't care for the club scene, and I could very well live without rock and roll and music. It's not the magic that takes me there either. And I'm loved here Mz. Windling, and always have been. There's enough magic here to last a lifetime. I'm in love and am loved by a wonderful man. So see, it's not the kid in me that wants to run. I want you to know Mz. Windling that my home life is as perfect as one can hope for. And I love learning and do understand education and how and why it works and should work. So it's not because I'm a bad student either. I'm not. I'm a great student. And it's not cause I'm having a tough time of any sort Mz. Windling. But see you gotta make it real. Cause I want to take Danny and i want to go there. And it's not cause our beginnings were hard (cause they sure were for both of us). We have each other. And it's not cause of drugs or the freedom of alcohol and all sorts of things that we can have in B-town Mz. Windling. I don't care for any of those things and neither does Danny. I'll tell you why Mz. Windling. I'll tell you why you have to make it real for us. Because we are lost you know. We are on these paths see, and we don't like them so much. I don't want to be a lawyer as much as he doesn't want to be a doctor and quite frankly we don't know what we want or who we should be. I can say for myself that I'm lost and very much so. And I have no romantic vision of Btown Mz. Windling. I don't. I know that all of it is street life and starvation, poverty and gang violence drug addictions, and sickness. But there's something in it that is unlike the world. It is freedom Mz. Windling. The freedom not to choose and not to have any one care if you choose or not. The freedom to be whatever. If you want to write you write... if you want to paint then you sure as hell better do it where they will all see it. And everyone there's just like us. They are lost and unsure. And the beauty of it.... they never have to be found. Each story in your anthologies is a little part of me stolen and written down. Such a world... imagine... run solely by us and sprung on our dreams and our choices. Mz. Windling you must see that we need you, so please you have to make it real for us. I can imagine a kid or two dying just to get there.I'm so lost today and every day, I have everything but I need a place Mz. Windling. Won't you provide it? Won't you make it real? Maybe I missed the point of your stories you know, maybe it was about the world that i don't care about which you really meant to write about. But me? All I saw was not rock and roll and some Trubloods and magic and clubs and gangs, I saw life. Prosperous communal life for a dream that is unlike the stale reality of the world today. Where one has to be a lawyer or a doctor. In Btown all our dreams come true, and money has no value. A fourleaf clover- now that's another story. So Mz. Windling you need to do this. You need to do this so we can run and not choose this world or these lives or these jobs or constraints and everyday burdens. These lives get us nowhere closer to the truth. But those- lives lived entirely by dreams- those are the answers. They are all the answers. They are that light philosophers search for. That truth that none can explain. Dreams! Please Mz. Windling, won't you hear me? comment -

There'll be peace when you are done [ updated on February 28th,2008 ;; 11PM ] [ music | Carry on my wayward son/ gloomy sunday : isn't that the best last line ever? ] Is this redundant? When in the world was the last time I wrote in this thing. I can't believe that once upon a time I had something to bitch and moan about. We celebrated our 2 year anniversary effortlessly 5 days ago. We had so much fun but it got us sooooo sick. Went to Omayi and had the most expensive sushi on the menu... yummmM! Danny go me a camera! I am terribly excited, ever since I lost my last one I've been lost. Then we went to see a show, which was a totally awesome and hysterical parody of all broadway shows. Totally loved it except for the whole almost being late thing and not being able to find parking on 50th. The next segment of the evening was spent in waiting to get into Max Brenner. Which was totally worth it. I loved it to death as always. But when we crawled in to bed I was halfway puking with how stuffed I was. Danny wound up getting the flu and keeping me up half the night the night before 2 midterms. Oh well, I think I aced them anyway. Classes are going okay... except for philosophy ofcourse. Such a mistake majoring in it... I'm having a tough time. It's been a rough week. I think I'll head to bed. Kind of lonely all week. Maybe thats why I'm writing. I know that at some long ago time I derived that it was either do to being pissed off or due to being lonely I wrote. Dan's been sick so I haven't seen him. But we have a wedding this saturday so I hope he'll be there. The whole FUrez Hilton thing that hit today, the gossip blog that rags on all the Fordham students, is really something special. They even manage to attack the dean. I hope it gets taken down, it's just plain cruel to make fun of people for the entire world to see, with more than 2.5 hundred hits a day! Speaking of attacking deans! I found out yesterday that my uncle is a evangelical pastor! Go figure! He hated my grandpa and his jewishness so much after he left his mom that he decided to spit in his face and become a pastor! How awsome is that!?!?! I'm like related to a pastor... too awsome. I also watched/half watched (and Puzzled) a special on the dangers of the internet. Found out that people can actually convince you to kill yourself. What kind of moron do you have to be to join a suicide chat... doesn't that defeat the purpose? Killing yourself is such a depression type of thing, it's a loneliness, a no one understands me/ loves me type of thing. That's why it's so odd to go and chat about it in a chat where everyone wants to kill themselves, and it's not like they tell you not to do it like a psychiatrist or a specialist would... NO... they tell you that you SHOULD die. How encouraging is that? You have to be all kinds of stupid to listen to other people who feel like you. It makes it all the more depressing (I don't buy into that whole misery loves company thing). Any intelligent suicideee (is that an oxymoron?) should know that they are not alone in what their feeling. The way to get through the day is by finding something you love. Whatever you love and pour your energy into will love you. That's why I totally believe in the whole art/music depression expression. The whole grunge/goth/emo movement. It allows outlets for suicideees. On a brighter note, I had lunch with my baby today who I haven't seen all term. Thank gosh I ran into her after school cause I realllly missed Kristina and didn't even realize it. Wish we had classes together again, I miss my sidekick although I do have Steph, she doesn't understand my russian references very well. I had McD's today. Yummy. I figure if I eat 1 meal a day I save the calories like leap year and then make up for it on the weekend. Speaking of Leaps theres one in 27 minutes. Happy Bday to everyone born on Feb 29th. Let them know that Im glad to go. comment -

[ updated on January 1st,2008 ;; 09PM ] There was a happy smiling time when I was enough. Something is wrong. And it wasn't school and we know it. I thought that comment -

[ updated on December 5th,2007 ;; 09PM ] Dreams... what really are they? Granted some are utter nonsense but are all? What do they mean... are they really our subconscious talking? And if that is the case how easily can we dismiss them? Dreams have been studied since the beginning of society: Some civilizations even induced dreams in order to find deeper meanings. How bad can they be? Should we look more deeply into them or leave them alone? What about troublesome recurring ones? What of them? Are there things I'm supressing or is it just my imagination being free? Maybe ultimately it doesn't matter because it's not like they'll color the decisions that I'll make. They never have, even though listening to them in certain cases may have helped me avoid problems. And how about this one which has been on my mind all day? Is this just another or is it my greatest fear expressed? The demon that may never have died? comment -

[ updated on November 14th,2007 ;; 02PM ] Hey gang. Long time no see. First time I'm posting public in a while, for a second there its all been about me (and I frankly don't even want to share it with the people who have me friended so the entries are all private eye). I'm actually hesitant to make this public. Kind of comes with some sort of weird connotation that I want my shit shared with the world (or anyone for that matter). I hope nobody checks up on this or reads it any more. My life's fine. Being a philosophy major has opened up alot of weird doors in my head that have never really closed. I feel awakened, asking more questions then usual. I question everything, the norm, life itself. More and more I feel like its all a bunch of bullshit that I concocted one day when I felt bored. Also lots of feelings of disconnection. I feel like Im swaying from one me to the next. Less voices in my head now but more (actual) presence. I'm one person one second and one another. Sometimes I'll even forget everything totally. Even my handwriting changes. Dissociative manic depression you say? Maybe all bad traits are inherited. Are there still people out there left who care about me? If so, show yourself. You can be anonymous I don't mind. I'm just curious if anyone still checks up is all. Birthday's in 6 days. Hate it. Turning 18 again. YEY. Don't know nothing about any presents though, or about whats happening. I usually have this shit planned ahead. Know nothing. No school all week (will barricade myself in house for week)=Nice. I'm also going to buy me a gift. A really nice gift that I' m sure I'll want when I purchase it. I'll surprise myself. comment -

Becoming Jane- thoughts [ updated on September 2nd,2007 ;; 02PM ] Life, I suppose can be (over-simplified) narrowed to a number of choices that we make or refrain from making. They decide the course of our future and, most of all, represent our character. If our choices are not true to our characters then they do not reflect who we really are and therefore take us down a road that is not truly our own. What decides which choice truly reflects who we are? and further, how is one to go about making a choice at all if he or she is concerned with making a true choice? Where can we find the bravery to refuse following a choice that, while seemingly more comfortable, is the wrong one? What alternatives exist for making such a choice and why would the less comfortable one be truer to our own self? I wonder that, had Austen been presented once again with a choice of comfort, would she have refused? Does that make her stronger, braver, or more independent? Would it not have made her life easier or would the sacrifice have been too great? What would the sacrifice have been anyway? I guess that's what I'm really trying to understand. What exactly is the sacrifice of a choice that may not be correct? Does it necessitate that making such a choice dictates a weakness of character or some loss to that same character? Is the point simply that love is her choice and that that love cannot be sacrificed under any circumstance even if it is no longer (possible?) available? Or is it that, in her circumstance, the seemingly more desirable of options is actually less desirable? Life is long, and the journey is a difficult one. In my opinion, had she wanted to live a long and fruitful life, she should have chosen the more comfortable option. I say that only as someone ignorant of the sacrifice that it entails. What is the sacrifice and should humanity worry about making it? comment -

[ updated on August 7th,2007 ;; 12AM ] Woooo it's been a while since my last posting. Means all is well no? I feel kind of foolish right now. I'm such a pathetic creature. Is it pathetic to anxiously await a reply from your father via email? a stranger you haven't seen for more than half a decade? the truth is I guess I want to know about him. I want to speak to him. What a wonderful invention this email. No matter how I love Sergey he is not and will never be my father. But perhaps I have a fucked up image of what a father is. I know that mine is dying. Sooner rather than later. How ironic that his alcoholism is killing him. Slowly. Quickly. Whatever. And now if I ever got the courage... and if he ever has the desire... I can see him without my mother's commenting or knowing about it. Although I can't imagine that being a good idea. I mean I'm all grown and well I would be too scared. I can't even speak to him on the phone for christ's sake. But maybe it's easier in person? But what do you say after so long? Is it like talking to a friend? Strange thing is when I type I don't feel like I'm speaking to a father or someone whose blood runs through my veins. I feel like I'm just speaking to some man. That happened to father me. It's just all very strange. Two strangers. I should feel SOME feelings of daughterly concern for his health but no... instead I have this feeling of concern as a human being to another human being. It's so sick to mess with familial bonds like this. It's hard to understand. And very confusing. I'm waiting for his email back. Just sitting and waiting. Is that weird? Is that desperate? All these years of pretending that he's dead and now all of a sudden I'm forced into contact with him. Contact that I'm not easily giving up. And that one line: I hope you are doing well- or however he typed it seems like the world to me. the world to know he might actually care about me. A weak man is not a man to be hated but to be pitied. I'm the stronger for his weakness or am I? Is it better to just let it go? This is a wound that's healed. comment -

[ updated on July 4th,2007 ;; 01AM ] Todays been a hard one. Im glad it's almost over. Off to bed and lay me to sleep. By my self in big bed for first time in week. Sad. I feel numb. Unwell. I feel like im being rubbed raw at the edges. Everything just sets me off. comment -

[ updated on June 21st,2007 ;; 10PM ] When we are young we believe we are invincible. Hell we believe that whatever it is, it surely won't happen to us. Well what if it does? Mostly I just feel sad. I'm not scared or anything. The prospect of an indefinable future isn't that frightning. I feel sad because I wish I didn't have it. I wish I was like every other kid who didn't have to face something that can't be...solved- removed- wiped clean. I think I knew in the back of my mind. I also wish Danny had reacted better. Hell, my mom reacted more concerned then he did which I suppose is fitting because she's my mother and she knows me and loves me. She says I'll be okay but you can tell she's just as worried as I am. I'm not afraid of the pain either. Sure it hurts. Can't imagine it not hurting. But like the Doctor said I was so brave and just sat there quietly and didn't move an inch. Maybe I'm not scared because I've faced the prospect of death before and been too cowardly to go through with it. If it's inevitable then I can't be scared of it. I think of Iovanna when I write this and how brave she is facing leukemia. How brave she is to go on and to want things. I want things too. But less now. And forever there's just this deep sadness. This want to be alone. None of it matters. And right now I just feel like crying. Sometimes it does happen to you. comment -

[ updated on June 20th,2007 ;; 01AM ] Why should Candy have so many men in her life? Different, each and every one, but many. Girls there's only a few. Generic ones. Motherly types who are friendly and tarnished and small ones that are stupid and bubbly. Is that a reflection of my inner feelings as well? Also why men? Why particular men? Don't say that you can make any situation fit your need like you can a horroscope because it's all too much of a coincidence to not be my subconscious talking. I mean I can imagine when I first started that I saw myself not staying with Riff long. Life should start with the end of bad chapters. That's one choice. Riff whose story never even began except to say a few terrible acknowledgements of torture and pain. I even went so far as to write in Candy's cheating on him. I can see where Boomer would have been an important beginning- as a partner and friend. Someone strong and dependable and in my subconscious thought- always around. Another choice. I never did write in his death- but it's coming. Ironically it'll be a girl who'll be his downfall. Rome is an interesting anomoly cause lord we all know there's no way to propel into the future and know what I knew. Why include him at all? What purpose does it serve but to solidify Candy as a slut? But no your wrong. That's not his real purpose there. He doesn't get much lines- maybe less than Riff- but he plays a central role in defining our main character. An adventure seeker who conquered- notice the past tense- the boundary. Gabriel- now thats a story. I can imagine putting him in because of the whole night in shining armor bit. Every girl dreams of being rescued. But his traits- they hit too close to home. Almost as if I HAD propelled 3 years into the future and seen. So why put in another guy when you have 3 already- not counting the minor roles which could easily be attributed to friends who are there and support you but you don't care to know everything about. Why put in a night in shining armor if there are 3 potential ones? Why is he an angel that falls from the sky? Why does he have a history that I don't know about? Sometimes I wonder whose writing this story. It's not Lyuba that's for sure. Lyuba can't know any of these things. Today she can...but not yesterday. And what if I write down some more people? What if someone does die like they are meant to? What if? comment -

It's like relying on Plain White T's for a smile when losing it all on a river via poker hand [ updated on June 12th,2007 ;; 12AM ] Wish it would rain again. I have my reasons. Cant sleep again. Should. Cant. Will move on to reading in a few. But for now it'll suffice to stare out the window. We went to the billiards place today. Meet you at the Cue. Lots changed since the last time I came there. Felt tensed. Is that the right word? It's so much more interesting to have neighbors across the way whose windows I can stare into when I'm bored. It provides for ample curiosity and imagination food. Except they're boring. Well other then what goes on in their basement. I think they may be some sort of photographers or in my sick and twisted mind (pornographers) because I see flashes periodically like a camera. Also they are polish and mow their lawn at night. Build little garden things that look retarded. Should have professionals do it. Is it weird to be in love with my little Sim 2 child? She's so cute I can't stop taking pictures of her. Beautiful baby. Am I sick or what? Bored is the proper word I bet. I should figure out something to do besides type random uninteresting things that no one cares to read about. Maybe I'll start making shit up. "I was sitting at my window and looking out. Twirling my hair like I tend to do. Then I saw my neighbor's door open. Gasp. Since I had my curtain moved the view was unobstructed for both of us. I hid under the windowsill and watched with giggles. But instead of my old neighbor that came out.... it was an alien! yep an alien. I know I know that's what I thought too- A POLISH ALIEN! how appropriate. But I do suppose if there had to be aliens they MUST be polish. Or at least Polish influenced." For now I only have one family across the way but eventually someone else will move in. Then I'll have TWO families to watch. Alright stay tuned for more news on the aliens. comment -

The only love affair... is the one you have with yourself [ updated on May 17th,2007 ;; 12AM ] Chances are things aren't as you see them exactly. Most likely your partner and lover sees it differently. What you do or don't do is in your mind's eye not theirs. At the same time they see what you do or don't do from an entirely different perspective because they aren't you. The age old dilemma of men's inability to understand women. You never know at any given point what's going on even if you think you do. So the question on today's mind is... who are you really having the love affair with? Your own feelings and thoughts... or somebody else? Isn't it true that you love the person because they are so perfect and because they do this and this and this? Well aren't they perfect because you make them to be that way in your mind? And what if they really aren't- chances are they are not. So aren't you making the person in your mind? What if they disappoint you as they do so often? Im not one to be sceptic. But I'm really beginning to think that love's also too personal to be between two people. Love is all about you and the image you have of your significant someone. And when that image is shattered it is goodbye. But what if there's nothing else? I mean no one else? Or is there really ever no one or nothing else for you even if it seems that way? comment -

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