?

Log in

No account? Create an account
Dust Burglar Gurgler's Journal [entries|friends|calendar]
Dust Burglar Gurgler

[ website | www.ratemykitten.com ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

wow [02 Sep 2010|10:56am]
4 years later and I still feel like I'm standing still.
Does anyone use this thing anymore? I'm so glad I remembered...
So much has changed.
So much of me has changed.
Except I still love The Shins :)

I was so young... soso young when I wrote in here.
Nowadays I read through my past for inspiration. Is that pathetic?
INSPIRE ME GOD DAMNIT!

I miss me.

drunkensailor I appreciate you...
1 comment|post comment

[10 May 2006|03:35am]
live

journal



hah
5 comments|post comment

[25 Apr 2006|06:28am]
Some friends of mine were told that they all turned into a bunch of Christine Johnsons

If that isn't the most flattering thing in the world, I don't know what is.
2 comments|post comment

Whatever madness brings you happiness. [19 Feb 2006|02:37am]
These have been the best days of my life.
6 comments|post comment

this isn't verbose so don't expect anything out of these words, k? [14 Jan 2006|10:10pm]
I'm not really sure of where I am right now, as far as...the ever looming "life" goes. I don't think I've ever really been sure, but I think I've been able to trick myself into having a false sense of that in the past. I'm not really sure if anyone ever knows where they are in life, or if it's even something you can gage, or something you can discern from regular and irregular day to day events that shape who we are. Sometimes it seems events that seem so important in your life at one point in time, a few moments later, are petty and pointless. Maybe that's just how things go. The word "maybe" is really starting to make me feel sick. All of this...not knowing is starting to make me feel really sick. But shit, you'll never know anything about anything (was that Socrates or Aristotle or am I completely off as far as that goes?...anyway...)

I'll go to bed saying I'm sick and tired of this shit, and that I've given up completely on you-know-what
but then a dream or a random memory will sneak onto the main view screen and I'll be plummeted with all this bullshit. Bullshit is the wrong word. Regret would be the wrong word too. I guess just being overwhelmed with a helpless rage, rage at what you'll never be able to control.

No, not even that.

I'm trying to find a level place right now, and it's really hard.
4 comments|post comment

winter break was pretty good to me [07 Jan 2006|08:35pm]
[ mood | sleepy ]

- Leaving with a lot less shit than when I arrived.
- Not being able to see Evan on New Years.
- Florida.
- Being late on the rent again.

+ Good grades.
+ Letting an ex-boyfriend and the rest of the Treasure Coast mall know how much of a toy he is.
+ Fat new girlfriends. Definite downgrade, brah. Ouch!
+ 24 hour porn stores
+ Good herb mixed with good records.

It always outweighs the bad somehow.

3 comments|post comment

holy toledo [23 Nov 2005|11:20am]
[ mood | fine ]

Three months is just never long enough to do what we'd planned, is it? I don't deserve friends.

But my pillow still smells like - did I ever tell you how they come and go? Each one leaving their scent, marking their territory, but it fades quickly, forgotten as fast.
None of you mean a thing to me. Unanswered phone calls and doorbells and one-word responses. I'm not giving anyone the time of day anymore.

AND can it be? He helped teach me that sex is meaningless, sentimentality has no place in relationships, and that love and lovers are opposites. It's the unbearable lightness of being, isn't it? But that's another entry.

I can dismiss you all with a wave of my hands, press of a button.

Just stop, stop trying, stop giving so much of yourself to someone who'll never deliver back. I guess that's the best advice I can give any of you.

Too bad next time we meet we'll smile and hug and I just hope you don't believe me.

4 comments|post comment

in the past 24 hours I.. [20 Nov 2005|09:16pm]
+ went to a titty bar
+ almost crashed a strangers car
+ sold some records on ebay (oops)
+ drank lambic beer
+ argued my way from a B to an A

lifes pretty tyte.
post comment

[02 Nov 2005|08:31pm]
[ mood | happy (finally) ]

even after spilling $30 all over my carpet
even after paying $2.75 per gallon of gas

even after getting a $305 speeding ticket

it was all worth it

3 comments|post comment

where is he sleeping tonight? [12 Oct 2005|12:59pm]
I've learned to tell them early.
I don't care about much anymore, so don't expect me to care about you.
I hate being close to people, being intimate. That goddamned smile like they're so happy.. like it's something great, and I just think about their vulnerability. How one well-placed phrase could bring them crashing down. That whole lie about how opposites attract.. we all know we want someone exactly like us and nothing good will ever come of this. And with all the difference between love and lovers, they add up sometimes. I wonder if she'll be counting. Skin against skin makes nothing but statistics. I'm wondering when giving it away becomes pouring me down the drain.

I'm beginning to think I'll never get out.
3 comments|post comment

i hate orlando [14 Sep 2005|09:06pm]
[ mood | nauseated ]

and you.

tonights it's just me and my best friend boone's farm.
maybe tonight i'll get really fucking drunk and fuck some random bar slut.

..no..wait...
ew.

2 comments|post comment

YOU YOU Y-O-U__UOOUUY [07 Sep 2005|12:37am]
The hardest thing I do every afternoon is get myself out of bed.
1 comment|post comment

this is me adapting this is me adapting this is me adapting this is me adapting this is me adapting [09 Aug 2005|06:41pm]
I can't do this anymore. I'm watching days blend together until there's no difference between today and tomorrow and see? I'm stuck already, stumbling over ideas and pictures in my head that don't seem to get out anymore. They just stay inside, floating around, cluttering up my thoughts kind of how my room is so messy. It's hard to walk through right now, but why clean somewhere you don't really live? We don't pick up the litter on the sidewalks. I've got to get out of here. I've got to get out. I keep saying the same things over and over about how I don't want anyone to know my name when I leave my house. I hope I mean it, because when I finally go I better not fucking look back. I know I won't because I can't. This is such a small town ,I think, but really.. what do I have to compare it to? There has to be more than this. I always said I would never wait for anyone, and I always thought i meant it. He's always been an exception to every stupid rule I've embedded into my head. I Guess there's no easy way out this time.

Slept all day again. Tuesdays are useless, but I've lit another incense. Kept finding year-old love letters. Tiny capital letters on graph paper. Spelling adoration and respect. Decided no one ever tells the truth.

I wish I could remove every
tangible
promise
of love I've ever created.


We'll end up empty. Another repeat.


This past weekend I've listened to what he likes, slipped his favorite words into conversations... pretended to hear them in his voice. Maybe next time I see him I'll tell how last night I thought of us and distance and how I think, maybe, he doesn't miss me like I want him to. But the more he keeps me guessing, the more I'll continue asking. The more unsure he is, the more certain I am.

But all the memories we've made, they continue to haunt me. I hate ghosts.
1 comment|post comment

let me just say, that I could not be much more confused, at this point. [09 Jul 2005|02:24pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

feeling rather dead these days.

2 comments|post comment

[07 May 2005|07:19am]
I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror, and realized I look like a crackhead.
12 comments|post comment

bring your firearms, we're lickin' shots at the nursery [10 Apr 2005|09:40pm]
[ mood | haha ]

i do not miss you, i do not know that i do not miss you, even though i do
i do not miss you because i cannot miss you because i do not know you
i do not miss you because i cannot miss you.
i know that i miss you even though i cannot miss you
that you even know that i miss you you do not know
even though i miss you you do not know that
do i miss you that i know even though i do not miss you
i know that i do not miss you even though do i miss you
i know that i miss you even though i do not miss you
i know that i miss you even though i do
i do not even though i know not that-
i do not even though i know
even though i know i do
i do not know that i miss you
i do know that i miss you
i do know that
i do miss you
i, miss you
i miss you

3 comments|post comment

Fleeting and distant, in actual miles not emotions. [05 Apr 2005|12:19am]
I always think of how at one stage when I wrote in this it was something artistic or meaningful or perhaps, I don't know, something else. This time when I really did take it seriously and I thought it was important to create things which other people could find beautiful, and would tell me were beautiful. But now I'm not so worried. Because anything I create is really only going to be relevant to me, or beautiful to me, in the end anyway. I guess there's so much more stuff I do want to write. My mind is a constant brewing broth of ideas and concepts, little strings of words that place together prettily. But there's no stress to get them out straight away, to make them presentable. Often I will lose a thought, just as I was about to say it, and I sit and wait and listen to my friends talking and then, it will come back to me and I wait for my moment to say it, and often lose it again. boomeranging from the part of my mind I can connect with and the acres I cannot.

I think that most peoples interpretations of me are completely false, for the most part.
I am not who you think I am.
I am so much more.

How many of you think you know me?
I mean, really know me?
4 comments|post comment

[27 Mar 2005|01:08am]
[ mood | satisfied ]

Somewhere within me I feel that there is some un-tapped energy soothing and burning itself into some kind of fucking oblivion, waiting for a crack to sizzle out of. I walk through compacted crowds of sandstone faces complete with sad-charred eyes that stare into some withering and unknown space (not even there or here). And I can't help but overhear certain conversations while contained within these crowds. Like today, when a small, frail girl unintentionally relayed to me the tale of how her boyfriend kicked her in the stomach, giving her a miscarriage. And then I imagined her face molded into shock-waves, his rapid-swift excuses run-playing along her bruises as she began to bleed and vomit out the remnants of what could have been a life. And that feeling of disgust when she continued on about her undying love for him. My skin runs from every hand that has ever dared attempt a touch and when stumbling upon such tales as these I find myself whispering a secret 'thanks' into myself for those external warning signs that trigger fight or flight. The choice, for me, is completely natural and involuntary. There is no under-the-rug, swept-up-to-be-kept-a-secret there. I simply don't trust people.

Goodnight moon. Goodnight world, and goodnight concentration because I haven't seen you for days. I'm roaming around reading everything with dialated pupils. Bonds have been broken, but I'll break my fingers before I send them pointing in any direction.

Dear infinity,
Why can't you be definite just on certain occasions?

1 comment|post comment

tonight: [19 Mar 2005|11:37am]
[ mood | fucking horrible ]

I smoke myself silly.
alone.
in my room.
and listen to jazz that makes you want to either cry until your eyes fall out
or rip your ears off so you want have to hear it anymore

jazz is so sad..



I feel like I'm going to vomit.

2 comments|post comment

[14 Mar 2005|10:42pm]
Today was what most people could only describe as miserable. I learned nothing new in any of my classes. Instead I counted the number of ceiling tiles on room B-11's ceiling to pass the time. However, there is something to say about the dedication of someone willing to count to three-hundred seventy something, instead of just multiplying the numbers out in the long fabled shortcut. After all, half and quarter tiles have to be figured in. Questions, it seems, are the things that make us not want to count ceiling tiles for a living. After all, as soon as one would ask "Why am I counting ceiling tiles?" they would almost certainly lose count, and should they chose to continue, they would have to start all over again.

I hate Mondays.
2 comments|post comment

I love him. [14 Mar 2005|01:04pm]
[ mood | loved ]

happy face, christine! happy face!

Happy 2 years to Garrett and I.
:)

Time flys.

11 comments|post comment

i think this fits [01 Mar 2005|02:36pm]
maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.
-arthur miller (1915 - 2005)
post comment

i miss my boyfriend. [28 Feb 2005|11:49pm]
I felt like I should pay some attention to this tiny little box that I used to write in ever so diligently. It seems trivial now that I run around clutching onto my black book that doesn't symbolize what everyone presumes it to be. But in a way it's just that, but with more metaphors, more substance and wandering and all of that jazz that keeps the bass line playing all night long to the swingster and drinkers. I get terribly depressed now when I drink, so I'm thinking it's something to be avoided wherever possible to avoid any compromising situations.

It's strange, when I look back on the past figures who at the time I seemed to devote so much time and attention to. Now, they rarely grace my thoughts with their presence. I think it's this perverted obsessive compulsive issue I have, that works its way into any first meetings. Though, I don't necessarily think it's something that I should add to the long list of mental instabilities that seem to plague my over analytical sack of brain meat.

goodnight?
hah!
barely.
1 comment|post comment

"Sometimes I kid myself into thinking that I live life to the fullest". [23 Feb 2005|04:25am]
[ mood | rotten ]

Hello? I'm looking for Inspiration. Confidence. Direction. Purpose.
I'm looking for the obvious. I'm sick of reading between lines that I knew were there to begin with. I'm sick of being the one to analyze.
I'm looking for Honesty. I'm looking for Openness. Personality. Truth. I'm looking for the perfect medium for an impossible portayl of my mind, which I can't begin to relate. I'm looking for Understanding. Patience. Positivity.


Ignorance is the farthest from bliss that you can get. Can't you feel something missing? Can't you just tell that there a little hole in there somewhere? Fill it with manure if that's all you've got for the time being. After all, shit is exactly what they're trying to feed you. Just don't, for any reason, take no for an honest answer.

Oh, there's that insomnia again.

2 comments|post comment

i'm the luckiest gal in the world [16 Feb 2005|12:01am]

For Valentine's Day Garrett got me an oil ring and a cactus.

That's wins over roses and chocolates any day.

3 comments|post comment

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]