February 24, 2010
a great documentary
about Alzheimer’s told from the voice of babes. children’s POV is always spot on -- they are yet to be corrupted by society in their reality.
i think he explains it well because he tells my mom and she has no question about oldtimers disease a girl says.
i think we’re doing ok. we are not sad, i hope it will get better but i don’t think thats how it is. but he still remembers us, so i think we are ok. a boy from the same family says
this disease effects me on many levels
this documentary worth the time - HBO - Grandpa - i’m sure you can screen it online. 31 minutes on demand. it may be a piece of a bigger project.
but i heart it
i think he explains it well because he tells my mom and she has no question about oldtimers disease a girl says.
i think we’re doing ok. we are not sad, i hope it will get better but i don’t think thats how it is. but he still remembers us, so i think we are ok. a boy from the same family says
this disease effects me on many levels
this documentary worth the time - HBO - Grandpa - i’m sure you can screen it online. 31 minutes on demand. it may be a piece of a bigger project.
but i heart it
February 24, 2010 3:08 AM
i’m watching flight of the navegator
such a good flick
taking lots of notes
duz this comp system
i don’t get
such a good flick
taking lots of notes
duz this comp system
i don’t get
February 23, 2010
we’re going to try this once
trying a new mac journal program
that comes in bundle
something to write a book on
something to keep acting / script notes
and a fun game you fill ur screen with fridge magnets
which means i’m adjusting to a whole new way of doing things
i’d say its because i’m getting older
but i’ve never liked
changing my ways
i’m obsessed with jim jones
and the whole jonestown thing
the mob mentality thing fascinates me
i leave in the morning (not my choice)
for louisiana
sounds like papa’s letting go
seems to have gotten pneumonia
one of the 3 ways they told him years ago
he would eventually die
that man amazes me
he’s lived years with an aneurism
the size of my fist
on his aorta
i’m excited to go
a new section in this software
for papa stories
lets see how this looks
when i get time
if it works..
reading such a great book BTW...
already frustrated as hell trying to do that link -- we shall see..
2
3
1
go
trying a new mac journal program
that comes in bundle
something to write a book on
something to keep acting / script notes
and a fun game you fill ur screen with fridge magnets
which means i’m adjusting to a whole new way of doing things
i’d say its because i’m getting older
but i’ve never liked
changing my ways
i’m obsessed with jim jones
and the whole jonestown thing
the mob mentality thing fascinates me
i leave in the morning (not my choice)
for louisiana
sounds like papa’s letting go
seems to have gotten pneumonia
one of the 3 ways they told him years ago
he would eventually die
that man amazes me
he’s lived years with an aneurism
the size of my fist
on his aorta
i’m excited to go
a new section in this software
for papa stories
lets see how this looks
when i get time
if it works..
reading such a great book BTW...
already frustrated as hell trying to do that link -- we shall see..
2
3
1
go
journal program so much work
i’m reading a good book though, but geez is this a lot of work. this seems the same to me as the other one. things that make you go hm...
ok this thing has doogie houser type
loves it
dear kate
we know that you adf
ok this thing has doogie houser type
loves it
dear kate
we know that you adf
February 16, 2010
say yes by andrea gibson
when two violins are placed in a room
if a chord on one violin is struck
the other violin will sound the note
if this is your definition of hope
this is for you
the ones who know how powerful we are
who know we can sound the music in the people around us
simply by playing our own strings
for the ones who sing life into broken wings
open their chests and offer their breath
as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving
spare those intent on proving god is dead
for you when your fingers are red
from clutching your heart
so it will beat faster
for the time you mastered the art of giving yourself for the sake of someone else
for the ones who have felt what it is to crush the lies
and lift truth so high the steeples bow to the sky
this is for you
this is also for the people who wake early to watch flowers bloom
who notice the moon at noon on a day when the world
has slapped them in the face with its lack of light
for the mothers who feed their children first
and thirst for nothing when they're full
this is for women
and for the men who taught me only women bleed with the moon
but there are men who cry when women bleed
men who bleed from women's wounds
and this is for that moon
on the nights she seems hung by a noose
for the people who cut her loose
and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn
about to learn they have scissors in their hands
this is for the man who showed me
the hardest thing about having nothing
is having nothing to give
who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away
so this is for the day we'll quit or jobs and work for something real
we'll feel for sunshine in the shadows
look for sunrays in the shade
this is for the people who rattle the cage that slave wage built
and for the ones who didn't know the filth until tonight
but right now are beginning songs that sound something like
people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home
this is for all the shit we own
and for the day we'll learn how much we have
when we learn to give that shit away
this is for doubt becoming faith
for falling from grace and climbing back up
for trading our silver platters for something that matters
like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other
this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too
this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn't have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what's the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn't have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we've ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible
this is for the possibility that guides us
and for the possibilities still waiting to sing
and spread their wings inside us
cause tonight saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that whatever song we've been singing we sing even more
the world needs us right now more than it ever has before
pull all your strings
play every chord
if you're writing letters to the prisoners
start tearing down the bars
if you're handing our flashlights in the dark
start handing our stars
never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart
play loud
play like you know the clouds have left too many people cold and broken
and you're their last chance for sun
play like there's no time for hoping brighter days will come
play like the apocalypse is only 4...3...2
but you have a drum in your chest that could save us
you have a song like a breath that could raise us
like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue
play like you know we won't survive if you don't
but we will if you do
play like saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that we give every single breath
this is for saying-yes
this is for saying-yes
if a chord on one violin is struck
the other violin will sound the note
if this is your definition of hope
this is for you
the ones who know how powerful we are
who know we can sound the music in the people around us
simply by playing our own strings
for the ones who sing life into broken wings
open their chests and offer their breath
as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving
spare those intent on proving god is dead
for you when your fingers are red
from clutching your heart
so it will beat faster
for the time you mastered the art of giving yourself for the sake of someone else
for the ones who have felt what it is to crush the lies
and lift truth so high the steeples bow to the sky
this is for you
this is also for the people who wake early to watch flowers bloom
who notice the moon at noon on a day when the world
has slapped them in the face with its lack of light
for the mothers who feed their children first
and thirst for nothing when they're full
this is for women
and for the men who taught me only women bleed with the moon
but there are men who cry when women bleed
men who bleed from women's wounds
and this is for that moon
on the nights she seems hung by a noose
for the people who cut her loose
and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn
about to learn they have scissors in their hands
this is for the man who showed me
the hardest thing about having nothing
is having nothing to give
who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away
so this is for the day we'll quit or jobs and work for something real
we'll feel for sunshine in the shadows
look for sunrays in the shade
this is for the people who rattle the cage that slave wage built
and for the ones who didn't know the filth until tonight
but right now are beginning songs that sound something like
people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home
this is for all the shit we own
and for the day we'll learn how much we have
when we learn to give that shit away
this is for doubt becoming faith
for falling from grace and climbing back up
for trading our silver platters for something that matters
like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other
this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too
this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn't have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what's the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn't have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we've ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible
this is for the possibility that guides us
and for the possibilities still waiting to sing
and spread their wings inside us
cause tonight saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that whatever song we've been singing we sing even more
the world needs us right now more than it ever has before
pull all your strings
play every chord
if you're writing letters to the prisoners
start tearing down the bars
if you're handing our flashlights in the dark
start handing our stars
never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart
play loud
play like you know the clouds have left too many people cold and broken
and you're their last chance for sun
play like there's no time for hoping brighter days will come
play like the apocalypse is only 4...3...2
but you have a drum in your chest that could save us
you have a song like a breath that could raise us
like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue
play like you know we won't survive if you don't
but we will if you do
play like saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that we give every single breath
this is for saying-yes
this is for saying-yes
February 13, 2010
love aqua teen saturdays
My name is...
Shake-Zula.
The mic-rula,
The old schoolah,
Ya wanna trip? I'll bring it to ya.
Frylock and I'm on top, Rock you like a cop
Meatwad you up next with your knock-knock.
Meatwad make the money, see.
Meatwad get the honeys, G.
Drivin in my car, livin' like a star.
Ice on my fingers and my toes and I'm a Taurus
Check it.
Check it, check it.
'Cuz we are the aqua teens,
make the homies say ho! and the girlies wanna scream
'Cuz we are the aqua teens,
make the homies say ho! and the girlies wanna scream
Aqua Teen Hunger Force.
Number 1 in the Hood, G
Shake-Zula.
The mic-rula,
The old schoolah,
Ya wanna trip? I'll bring it to ya.
Frylock and I'm on top, Rock you like a cop
Meatwad you up next with your knock-knock.
Meatwad make the money, see.
Meatwad get the honeys, G.
Drivin in my car, livin' like a star.
Ice on my fingers and my toes and I'm a Taurus
Check it.
Check it, check it.
'Cuz we are the aqua teens,
make the homies say ho! and the girlies wanna scream
'Cuz we are the aqua teens,
make the homies say ho! and the girlies wanna scream
Aqua Teen Hunger Force.
Number 1 in the Hood, G
February 11, 2010
2NITE: w/o thought - push.. send to the blog
SOME BOTTOM LINE THINKING -- from scottiscool.net
i need a journal program. because writing this stuff doogie style would rock my world. in treatment, my primary kept telling me the trauma of my molestation would replay itself in my life. specifically she, a recovering sex addict, put it all about sex. which made me so turned off to the idea. i even shared my last package in the mail with group -- a copy of a bible (stolen from a hotel I'm sure) with Jesus's word's highlighted in red. Then a used book copy of "The Broken Image", a book from 1981, all about curing your homosexual urge through christ life. A gift from a boyfriend of a decade ago -- imagine that.
i most definitely have a big ass button on spirituallity -- the pieces all connect. unfortunately i'm working a 5000 piece puzzle without a puzzle table. i make up things that make sense to me -- but they give me such hope & light that I'm starting to get it.
how my trauma replays is something i can't even describe in words. all i can say is at those crucial moments -- minutes if that. i completely checked out of my body. i was somewhere else. somewhere safe.
i see my trauma replaying by re-inacnting that behavior. putting myself in situations where i may not come out on the other end in one piece. relying on that innate skill set to survive. and its in those moments of testing myself, i'm given some kind of reassurance that i can. and i will.
however the behaviors that lead me to those, too often to admit, moments are so out of my value system -- they are behaviors of some other being i do not even know. yet i know all too well. whether its a night of risky drug use, or a night of equally risky sexual behaviors. hell on a good night some of both -- don't threaten me with a good time.
however, the most difficult part about putting all this into reality is -- just that its reality. denial and subconscious excuses i won't tolerate anymore. doing something about it will become paramount in my life. obsessive to a degree.
i've always had such a negative connotation on new years resolutions -- and how by the calendar aging a single digit it was as if we have been given a free pass and make a couple out of reach goals to strive too, and eat some lucky foods, and you're set for the next year. let me tell you how many times that bitch has come back to bite me in the ass!!
so it's a new year & a new me... and i'm doing shit my way. i'm going to make some "resolutions" to myself on my birthday -- a month away. and god knows i'll have high expectations when i sit with myself on what those will be. but it's all about me. celebrating the gift to be alive another year. to be able to check in with myself, re-eval, and make a game plan for the future.
for me, right now -- that's a good thing.
i need a journal program. because writing this stuff doogie style would rock my world. in treatment, my primary kept telling me the trauma of my molestation would replay itself in my life. specifically she, a recovering sex addict, put it all about sex. which made me so turned off to the idea. i even shared my last package in the mail with group -- a copy of a bible (stolen from a hotel I'm sure) with Jesus's word's highlighted in red. Then a used book copy of "The Broken Image", a book from 1981, all about curing your homosexual urge through christ life. A gift from a boyfriend of a decade ago -- imagine that.
i most definitely have a big ass button on spirituallity -- the pieces all connect. unfortunately i'm working a 5000 piece puzzle without a puzzle table. i make up things that make sense to me -- but they give me such hope & light that I'm starting to get it.
how my trauma replays is something i can't even describe in words. all i can say is at those crucial moments -- minutes if that. i completely checked out of my body. i was somewhere else. somewhere safe.
i see my trauma replaying by re-inacnting that behavior. putting myself in situations where i may not come out on the other end in one piece. relying on that innate skill set to survive. and its in those moments of testing myself, i'm given some kind of reassurance that i can. and i will.
however the behaviors that lead me to those, too often to admit, moments are so out of my value system -- they are behaviors of some other being i do not even know. yet i know all too well. whether its a night of risky drug use, or a night of equally risky sexual behaviors. hell on a good night some of both -- don't threaten me with a good time.
however, the most difficult part about putting all this into reality is -- just that its reality. denial and subconscious excuses i won't tolerate anymore. doing something about it will become paramount in my life. obsessive to a degree.
i've always had such a negative connotation on new years resolutions -- and how by the calendar aging a single digit it was as if we have been given a free pass and make a couple out of reach goals to strive too, and eat some lucky foods, and you're set for the next year. let me tell you how many times that bitch has come back to bite me in the ass!!
so it's a new year & a new me... and i'm doing shit my way. i'm going to make some "resolutions" to myself on my birthday -- a month away. and god knows i'll have high expectations when i sit with myself on what those will be. but it's all about me. celebrating the gift to be alive another year. to be able to check in with myself, re-eval, and make a game plan for the future.
for me, right now -- that's a good thing.
February 7, 2010
look what the cat drug in...
I want one of those doogie hawser looking journaling programs. At first was going to do video journaling. Not seeing your face occasionally (even when its hidden) after months and months -- Not such a good thing. No-one's been here so this will do.
I'm watching the suberbowl. I keep missing touchdowns. Random boring parts I catch. Then I feel lost that the score is up by 7 all of a sudden. foot ball i've watched a lot of lately, not my 1st choice mind you.
yet still am only naturally drawn to the boring stuff. I'm learning the truth works best for me in my life... and I recommend it despite the consequences.
i've been out of my meadow for about ten days. i'm finally starting to feel normal. getting back after such a long journey... ending in a residence in Wickenburg, AZ.
It was as if after half of my first night back, i woke up and it was if I mainlined some of the strongest drug cocktails ever over and over; and yet once i had missed. It is that hit that I can't keep out of my mind.
And now. I'm awake now -- i think.
I'm watching the suberbowl. I keep missing touchdowns. Random boring parts I catch. Then I feel lost that the score is up by 7 all of a sudden. foot ball i've watched a lot of lately, not my 1st choice mind you.
yet still am only naturally drawn to the boring stuff. I'm learning the truth works best for me in my life... and I recommend it despite the consequences.
i've been out of my meadow for about ten days. i'm finally starting to feel normal. getting back after such a long journey... ending in a residence in Wickenburg, AZ.
It was as if after half of my first night back, i woke up and it was if I mainlined some of the strongest drug cocktails ever over and over; and yet once i had missed. It is that hit that I can't keep out of my mind.
And now. I'm awake now -- i think.
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