SquishedLizard = Narcipost?

I'm feeling a bit bleh. I'm sitting here, and thinking that I have a problem. I have several; indifference may, or may not, be my problem. And honestly, I don't care. "What's the difference between indifference and apathy? I don't know, and I don't care."

It's amazing how much of my writing gets thrown away, or torn up, or deleted. I love, and hate that delete key. Part of me thinks that no matter what I do, it should be saved.

My writing means so much to me, and at the same time, I wonder why?

I have to write, and paint, and draw, because there are just too many fucking thoughts floating around in my head, and if I express, I get them out. They are already out there, and I can move on. At the same time, I think, "Nobody gives a damn, so why should I?" Maybe I care because it makes it easier for me to think? Or maybe I care because I don't have a choice, which is entirely too likely.

Frank said earlier, "no matter how much "I'm happy" days you build up, you can't cash them in. they don't build up they spend immediately or they waste away. you are alloted very few things that make you happy, so do them, or die miserable..."

That's somewhat comforting, and makes me sit back and say, "Yeah! So there! ...stupid brain..."

I can't shut it off. I write, because I have to get this thing out, so it stops bothering me, or I describe an emotion because in reality, at least in my head, the emotion is connected to the painting I have in mind, and recording the emotion, or the feeling I get, allows me to keep the picture. I read the post, and I go right back to the place where I meant to be.

But why can't I shut off this fucking voice that screams at me to get this damn thought out of my brain? "Liz! It's taking up useful space...c'mon liz... this is like storing 90megs worth of meg ryan pictures..."

A dear soul told me, when I asked why I can't turn it off: "For the same reason that I can't stop thinking. In your own life, you are the most important thing. If we were all here to take care of eachother, we'd never get anywhere. It's the people that are working for themselves that are the innovators."

That cheered me up, and made me look at this a bit differently. I printed that out in big font to tape to my wall.

I know this is chaotic, and doesn't really matter, but that's okay. It doesn't have to. So there! Narciposts* galore!!

And hey, who says Narciposts can't be fun? We're all guilty of them. I'm sure most of what I say falls into the reality of a narcipost.

Hell, most of my existance could be classified as a narcipost.

Narcipost: A shamelessly egocentric blog post that's of little interest to anyone besides the person who posted it.

Sharing toys

fermaylabush: I hope I never think "hey who's tickling my nuts" and see a guy
squishedlizard: lmao
fermaylabush: I'd rather even see a relative
squishedlizard: ew.
fermaylabush: cause at least then its like "well she is female"
squishedlizard: what about a guy relative?
fermaylabush: no
fermaylabush: idealy it would be kelly hu, after she almost married a cousin then realized how lame that cousin was
squishedlizard: 2 pages of dead people.
fermaylabush: cause if you squint hard enough, an almost spouse of a cousin could be considered a relative
squishedlizard: lol
squishedlizard: yup
fermaylabush: I'd even date kelly hu from what I've heard of her
squishedlizard: really?
squishedlizard: that'd be cool
fermaylabush: why would that be cool?
squishedlizard: I have speakers now.
squishedlizard: because I wouldn't mind having her in the family.
fermaylabush: nice
fermaylabush: ah
squishedlizard: or having her at all for that matter.
fermaylabush: lol
fermaylabush: am I to believe that I would be sharing my toys again?
squishedlizard: lol only if you wanted to.
fermaylabush: lol
fermaylabush: you--"Hey frank, So what you doin?"
me --"nothing, you?"
you--"well I was wondering if I could come over....kill some time, play some games.."
me--"kelly isn't here.."
you--"oh well I have to go..the water is flowing over the mirror and I think thats bad"
squishedlizard: lol
squishedlizard: lmao

Bad spanish and one lost packet...

And I thought MY Spanish was bad?!

R: el bummer muy grande, dude.

---

J: onelostpacket is the new one, by the way.
squishedlizard: lol
squishedlizard: cute.
J: Hah.. everyone else wonders what that's all about.
J: Packet of what, leaflets?
squishedlizard: You're kidding, right?
squishedlizard: huh..
squishedlizard: I don't think you are kidding...
J: No, people are just plain dumb these days.
J: "Packet.. you know.. TCP/IP packets.. data... anything?!"
J: "Nope."
squishedlizard: lmao
J: So.. yeah.. you're pretty much one of the few that could get it. :-)
squishedlizard: :-D

Found someone

Found an ancestor earlier, and his record of coming through Ellis Island.

Henri Tassey. Great, great grandfather. He arrived on December 19th 1903, and left from Boulogne, France.

Ingredior mihi animus, exsisto, vindico.

To enter upon me courage, to emerge, to liberate.

The Family Prayer

And Shepherds we shall be
For thee, my Lord, for thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee
And teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti.

Scroll Lock Key

"If you have a Windows key, press that, and the Pause/Break key that doesn't seem to do much beside keep the equally-useless Scroll Lock key company and stop DOS batch files running."

Anybody know what this does?

Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 6

I'm feeling very poetic tonight.

I don't know why, but sometimes, I feel almost trapped...lost...

I feel like I've been wandering for years, and years, and years. In a way, I suppose I have. I'm figuring out who I already am. I'm not developing. I'm discovering. I'm hunting. "Searching is half the fun: life is much more manageable when thought of as a scavenger hunt as opposed to a surprise party."

I'm trying to keep my balance. I'm trying to keep my perspective. I have found the "fucking silver lining." But sometimes, today, it's been hard. I'm coping. But it's been harder today than other days. People know that I've been dealing with a lot of emotional shit, but I'm not sure how many people understand that I'm coping with my self destructive nature.

I'm lucky I have expression. I am lucky I can express. The urge to scream, and expose my soul is overwhelming sometimes, and I think if I didn't express, I should implode. I'm trying to get over this dark time in my life, where everything was sad, and depressing, and dark. I find myself wondering if I can get over it. x MAYbe I can't. Maybe it's part of who I am. Maybe I need to be depressed to create.

I have noticed I am not painting, and I am barely writing any poetry now that I am happier. But I don't want to be like Edmund, and tell the people closest to me...the people that make me happy, that I can't be near them because when I am happy, I lose my expression. I'm trying to focus on this. I am trying to change this about myself. It's not healthy, and I know it. But these things don't come so easily.

And this is something you don't get prepared for early in life. Parents don't teach you how to cope with not expressing because you're happy. Parents don't teach you what to do when you are happy and no longer have the motivation, or inspiration, to paint. They don't teach you that in college. They don't teach you that in art school.

Where do you get your inspiration? Does it come out of misery, or does it come out of happiness? How do you find the balance in your life? Everything is about balance. You need misery to appreciate happiness. You need hatred to appreciate love, but how do you find the balance between misery and happiness, that will still allow you to create, and love adequately? Is there this balance?

Maybe that is what I have been searching for. The balance that will allow me to be content, and creative. I seem to be incapable of being creative if I'm happy.

Show me yours, and I'll show you mine.

I'm not bouncing on a bubble under the summer sun, and I'm only here because I feel compelled. I don't have to be here, but I feel like I should be here. I'm not swinging alone in the wind anymore. It seems almost as though I have found my feet.

I'm trying to keep it in focus, and I'm trying to find my happy balance. I'm just trying to keep it between the navigational beacons...

"If you have a Windows key, press that, and the Pause/Break key that doesn't seem to do much beside keep the equally-useless Scroll Lock key company and stop DOS batch files running."

Anybody know what this does?

When one says they desire a change, what happens? Do we change the now, which is always changing, thus, we are always changing, and adapting...we are never the same person, by changing our thoughts and actions, or does our change manifest itself in our thoughts and actions?

Dancin' through my eyes

Are words enough?

Do words, can words, really do the topic justice? How do you describe something that you know without knowing why you know it?

How do you describe reality? Or that warm light when your thoughts vanish from your mind and you exist in, and as a part of, the essence?

Your essence?

How can you take emotions, love, passion, hate, happiness, misery, anger, and experss them in an adequate manner? How can you take these emotions, which are so vast the sky cannot contain them, and express them in a manner that is adequate?

I try to express my emotions, but it's difficult, because when I try, even I, the creator, don't see what I meant to express. How can words be good enough, and pure enough, to describe something which is so hard to comprehend yourself, in a way that others can understand it?

Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 6

I'm feeling very poetic tonight.

I don't know why, but sometimes, I feel almost trapped...lost...

I feel like I've been wandering for years, and years, and years. In a way, I suppose I have. I'm figuring out who I already am. I'm not developing. I'm discovering. I'm hunting. "Searching is half the fun: life is much more manageable when thought of as a scavenger hunt as opposed to a surprise party."

I'm trying to keep my balance. I'm trying to keep my perspective. I have found the "fucking silver lining." But sometimes, today, it's been hard. I'm coping. But it's been harder today than other days. People know that I've been dealing with a lot of emotional shit, but I'm not sure how many people understand that I'm coping with my self destructive nature.

I'm lucky I have expression. I am lucky I can express. The urge to scream, and expose my soul is overwhelming sometimes, and I think if I didn't express, I should implode. I'm trying to get over this dark time in my life, where everything was sad, and depressing, and dark. I find myself wondering if I can get over it. Maybe I can't. Maybe it's part of who I am. Maybe I need to be depressed to create.

I have noticed I am not painting, and I am barely writing any poetry now that I am happier. But I don't want to be like Edmund, and tell the people closest to me...the people that make me happy, that I can't be near them because when I am happy, I lose my expression. I'm trying to focus on this. I am trying to change this about myself. It's not healthy, and I know it. But these things don't come so easily.

And this is something you don't get prepared for early in life. Parents don't teach you how to cope with not expressing because you're happy. Parents don't teach you what to do when you are happy and no longer have the motivation, or inspiration, to paint. They don't teach you that in college. They don't teach you that in art school.

Where do you get your inspiration? Does it come out of misery, or does it come out of happiness? How do you find the balance in your life? Everything is about balance. You need misery to appreciate happiness. You need hatred to appreciate love, but how do you find the balance between misery and happiness, that will still allow you to create, and love adequately? Is there this balance?

Maybe that is what I have been searching for. The balance that will allow me to be content, and creative. I seem to be incapable of being creative if I'm happy.

Show me yours, and I'll show you mine.

I'm not bouncing on a bubble under the summer sun, and I'm only here because I feel compelled. I don't have to be here, but I feel like I should be here. I'm not swinging alone in the wind anymore. It seems almost as though I have found my feet.

I'm trying to keep it in focus, and I'm trying to find my happy balance. I'm just trying to keep it between the navigational beacons...

Weak and tormented

I'm weak
I've never been anything else.
I wanted to lose myself in you
I knew I would lose my soul if I did
But I didn't care.
It's not my inner demons
The ones I am fighting every day
That need slaying
But the woman in me
Question all the time
Lonely, yet consumed
Angry, yet apathetic
Serene, yet tormented

Death's boatman takes no bribe

I think it's your skin
I'm missing
and craving
I think it's your soul that's
taunted me
it made me surrender from the start

I have a dream
we're in the mountains
on the rocks
tranquility in 10 shades of grey
another one of our moments
and then I'm gone

All of my pain,
and all of my tears are
stricken in grey
tainted with white
10 shades of grey
and I'm swimming in you

I'm already gone
dead to the world
but I watch myself die again
I am spiraling above the surface
while you linger by my side
and I'm covered in your quill pen

Once rain is joy
and pleasure is pain
the symbolic mysticisim
of hearts gone astray
lingers while you're quiet
staring me in the eyes

the serpent stares at me
something to toy with his mind
waiting yet again I know I'll
be easier as three
I couldn't regress
but I give you one more part

let this be my final fall
let my body take on wings
and this time you could slink
or beat down in madness
and the rain drops would fall
on my land

go away moonless sky
what's wrong with loving
if it's only left to die?
why need you taunt me
with your reaction
to my desperate actions

please capture me
for only you know how
to take me away
and leave me broken
in 10 shades of grey
lying under the stars

Where to find me

Spin, and hold me closer
she whispered
It's times like these I think of you

When every thing is gone
I wonder if the tainted blue midnight
makes any sense
to your mind

How do you look at it?
What do you do when you're here?

I'd tell you what to do
she screamed
I'd tell you where to find me
hidden inside the abyss

Bob Robert's Society Band

I love this song. Jimmy Buffett. "Bob Robert's Society Band" Haven't heard it in years!!!!

Well, You've heard about the alligators sleepin' in the shade
You've heard heard about the sugar barons screwin' up the 'glades,
It's a melting pot existence
That is hard to contemplate
And a never ending battle in the Sunshine State.

But far, far away from the front page news,
Far, far away from the headline blues,
Down a secondary road that severely shows its age
The forties comes to life on a make-shift stage.

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band.
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand.
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud.
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd.

Well, the word goes out
From Melbourne to the Keys.
The faithful get the message
Like it's written on the breeze.
Young folks, old folks,
'Bout to cut a rug
Fox Trot, Bunny Hop,
Do the Jitterbug,

To the Bob Robert's Society Band.
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand.
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud.
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd.

I saw mini vans from Boca,
Buses from Perrine.
There were people speaking Hindu
In the Bar-B-Que line.
A couple on their honeymoon
Looked a bit confused.
But the boys in the band put 'em right in the mood.
They played.....

A lady dressed in purple started dancing all alone
Then she sauntered oh so gently to the vacant microphone.
She sounded like she's someone and never missed a beat.
By the time the number ended they were dancin' in the street.

They'd died and gone to heaven,
That lively little crowd,
Trombones and saxophones
Sent 'em through the clouds.
It could have gone all night
But the party had to stop.
When they blew the circuit breaker
In the souvenir shop.

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd.

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday down at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd.

Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 5

"Without other people, no one would ever improve to self actualization."

My dearest confessor.

There was something I was supposed to learn, and I needed to grow. This whole event has sparked a change in me. I have found out a lot about myself, and I feel better. I feel better than I did a year ago. I have learned to listen to myself. I learned to listen to my inner voice. Which isn't even really a voice. My inner voice, which may be different from your inner voice, and Frank's inner voice, and Mom's inner voice, doesn't actually have words. But none-the-less, it is a voice because I can hear it, and I learn from it. It's how I know, without knowing. When all is still, and reality goes beyond my comprehension, I close my eyes, and I can see something, so intense, and so bright, and I just *know* what it is I'm supposed to do. Words are innadequate in describing the warmth, and the power of this voice. It tells me things, without words.

How do you take words, which are so meaningless, and mundane, and inadequate, and use them to describe something so powerful, and so overwhelming? How do you describe the light you see that consumes you, when you close your mind, throw your thoughts in the dumpster, and just focus on being? How do you describe reality? Emotion? Love? Passion?

Synonyms for describe are: narrate, recite, recount, relate, report. But they aren't adequate. The english language seems to be incapable of describing what I feel, and what fuels me. No matter how many words I learn, no matter how many new words a day I learn, I feel incapable of describing passion, reality, love, emotion in a way that is actually adequate. I can't, realistically, explain my inner voice. I can't explain it, and guarantee you'll understand.

But please don't berage me with all the pesky questions to my lack of answers.

Someone said to me earlier that I seem to have all the answers, but I don't. I know that. I'd be a fool to think that I did. I have no answers. I have theories. I have opinions. I have no answers. The questions that I ask, the things I desire knowledge about, might be things that I can't get answers to.

Colleges don't teach you that there sometimes are no answers. Sometimes, you just are. Sometimes you can just be, without knowing why, or how, or to what point and purpose. But you don't learn this in school, unless you're lucky, and have one hell of a teacher.

"College is about learning how to find the doors inside yourself so you can continue to grow. Edward ...Jake...Me... we all stagnate you I think. All of us hold you down to our level because you are so fucking amazing. So fucking amazing and beyond what we think we can accomplish, that ... well you know. We've had these talks before. Fuck my misery. Fuck his misery. That's not your problem."

Communal blog

I've created a communal blog.

http://www.blogthelizard.blogspot.com thoughts, poems, theories, random...whatever. By invitation only.

Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 4

for·ti·tude ( P ) Pronunciation Key (fôrt-td, -tyd)n.

• Strength of mind that allows one to endure pain or adversity with courage.

strength ( Pronunciation Key (strngkth, strngth, strnth)
n.

1. The state, property, or quality of being strong.
2. The power to resist attack; impregnability.
3. The power to resist strain or stress; durability.
4. The ability to maintain a moral or intellectual position firmly.
5. Capacity or potential for effective action: a show of strength.
6. 1. The number of people constituting a normal or ideal organization: The police force has been at half strength since the budget cuts.
   2. Military capability in terms of personnel and materiel: an army of fearsome strength.
7. 1. A source of power or force.
   2. One that is regarded as the embodiment of protective or supportive power; a support or mainstay.
   3. An attribute or quality of particular worth or utility; an asset.
8. Degree of intensity, force, effectiveness, or potency in terms of a particular property, as:
   1. Degree of concentration, distillation, or saturation; potency.
   2. Operative effectiveness or potency.
   3. Intensity, as of sound or light.
   4. Intensity or vehemence, as of emotion or language.
9. Effective or binding force; efficacy: the strength of an argument.
10. Firmness of or a continuous rising tendency in prices, as on the stock market.
11. Games. Power derived from the value of playing cards held.

Sometimes I wonder what it is exactly I am striving for. Am I searching strength? Am I searching for strength? Am I searching for fortitude? Strength of mind which allows one to endure pain with courage? What am I looking for? Peace of mind seems to be too much to ask for. Especially here, especially now, at this point in my life.

Am I looking for strength, or do I have too much of it? Or do I not have enough? Sometimes, I wonder where I get my strength. I know I have strength. My strength is the only way I can keep myself going sometimes. It's the only way I can...simply be. It's hard, sometimes, to be, with out being consumed. A dear person in my life told me once, "Don't be consumed, Liz." --It keeps playing, over and over and over in my head. I know I am not free of consumption, but sometimes I wonder if it's the only reason I try not to be consumed... because I have strength.

Strength is a funny thing, I think. At least mine is. There have been some hard things to endure over the course of my life. My life has been far from normal. I wish my biggest problem would be homework, or sitting around with friends, wondering what tv show to watch. But it's not like that. It can't be like that. Not for me. That's not the way of it, it seems. I have one friend who asks me "so what's the new Liz drama?" and another friend who says "Two words: Lifetime Movie" when I see him. When I'm trying to be strong, or when I think I need to be strong, I suppose is a better way to put it, things don't seem to phase me. "Oh my God! How terrible" and I just think "Eh. C'est la vie."

Is that good? Is that a good thing for me to do? I'm not asking myself. I'm asking you.

If I could only figure out what it is I want, and what it is I am looking for, maybe I would have a destination.

Bouncing Bovine - Lesson 3

knowl·edge ( P ) Pronunciation Key (nlj)n.

• The state or fact of knowing.
• Familiarity, awareness, or understanding gained through experience or study.
• The sum or range of what has been perceived, discovered, or learned.
• Learning; erudition: teachers of great knowledge.
• Specific information about something.
• Carnal knowledge.

The urge to consume knowledge has been screaming, pulsing, and weeping inside of me to let me work it's will. From experiance, comes knowledge, and sometimes, we gain wisdom. it seems that only through life, and wandering out abyss, and listening to our inner voice, do we ever gain wisdom. Only then do our oak, and ebony trimmed, doors begin to open.

Albrect taught me how to open doors. McDounough showed me what doors to open, and E actually started the door opening process. He didn't open anything, though, that didn't already want to be opened.

I think we all have doors, and I think we all have windows. Sometimes, I've noticed, people will stand tiptoe looking in our little windows, and sometimes other people will yank open the door, and barge in, uninvited, and prance around cautiously flipping switches, pushing buttons, just waiting for a reaction of some sort or another.

I was having a discussion earlier, and it followed along the lines of being able to take an event in my life, that lead me to such depression, such a dark place, and making it a good thing. It IS a good thing. It is only a good thing. How could it be anything but? When you look at it, things are good regardless of the process...almost regardless of the outcome. I am aware that I am going to gain knowledge, and wisdom, and strength from this event in my life. --And that alone, makes it worth all the heartache in the world.

Cambodia's Holocaust

The morning sun rises near Pailin, Cambodia, March 9, 2005, near the border with Thailand. The area which is controlled by former soldiers of the Khmer Rouge has heavily deforested in an attempt to make it profitable through farming. Much of the land is still filled with landmines. It has been 30 years since the rise of the Khme Rouge soldiers, and the images, and mines, and memories, of their brutal rule of the land still remain.

Dead Pope

Pope Died. Age 84.

We aren't really shocked. His time was comin'. He's been very ill.

squishedlizard: Pope died.
fermaylabush: yup
fermaylabush: all that is needed in the world is still turning (contrary to the belief of roman catholics)

squishedlizard: Pippa asked me if the pope died, and I said "Yup" and she said "YES!!!! WE'RE LIBERATED!!! DRINKS ALL AROUND!"
E: Wait...*scratches head*...Lizzy, I'm confuzzled. How does "God On Earth" die?

knowl·edge ( P ) Pronunciation Key (nlj)n.


The state or fact of knowing.
Familiarity, awareness, or understanding gained through experience or study.
The sum or range of what has been perceived, discovered, or learned.
Learning; erudition: teachers of great knowledge.
Specific information about something.
Carnal knowledge.
The urge to consume knowledge has been screaming, pulsing, and weeping inside of me to let me work it's will. From experiance, comes knowledge, and sometimes, we gain wisdom. it seems that only through life, and wandering out abyss, and listening to our inner voice, do we ever gain wisdom. Only then do our oak, and ebony trimmed, doors begin to open.

Albrect taught me how to open doors. McDounough showed me what doors to open, and E actually started the door opening process. He didn't open anything, though, that didn't already want to be opened.

I think we all have doors, and I think we all have windows. Sometimes, I've noticed, people will stand tiptoe looking in our little windows, and sometimes other people will yank open the door, and barge in, uninvited, and prance around cautiously flipping switches, pushing buttons, just waiting for a reaction of some sort or another.

I was having a discussion earlier, and it followed along the lines of being able to take an event in my life, that lead me to such depression, such a dark place, and making it a good thing. It IS a good thing. It is only a good thing. How could it be anything but? When you look at it, things are good regardless of the process...almost regardless of the outcome. I am aware that I am going to gain knowledge, and wisdom, and strength from this event in my life. --And that alone, makes it worth all the heartache in the world.