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hollyof85
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Name: Holly
Interests: I love Jesus, photography, drawing, and music classified as "alternative" Expertise: Changing majors. Hopefully that will end with the latest: psychology. Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/11/2005
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| the exbox, as my sister likes to call exboyfriends, facebooks me and says he wants to talk. that he can't stop thinking about the email i sent him saying that he was full of shit and every word out of his mouth the night we broke up was dripping with fear-- and that i was right. turns out he just wants to clear his conscience, "get some closure." wants to wait a few months, give me time to get him out of my system, and then bring everything back up again, so he can feel better. again, i only write on here now because no one i currently know reads it. i think a few people might know about it but none of them xanga anymore. so. here we go. you old friends and semi-friends (read: jt) get to read my bitch rants because i'm too prideful to put them up on myspace or facebook where they (read: he) can read them. and really though, why should they be anywhere? why do i have this stupid desire to BLOG my shit? let the "world" know about it? ugh.
anyways, so in the middle of this hate-fest and semi-self-pity-party, i have this poem that's on my facebook wall that i got from a book of poetry that was my mom's when she was a teenager. i love that book. randomly i'll go through it and find amazing poems i didn't know were there. this particular one i'm talking about now is by john burroughs, and this is just a piece of it:
Serene, I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind nor tide nor sea; I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, For lo! my own shall come to me.
Let me stop there. "Serene, I fold my hands and wait." Wow. "I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, for lo! my own shall come to me." .. wow. that's just a big stop sign to me. a shut your mouth and live your life sign. what shape would that sign be? would it be the universal Stoptagon? does it need more sides? fewer?
What matter if I stand alone? I wait with joy the coming years; My heart shall reap where it has sown, And garner up its fruit of tears.
I haven't had a poetry class where we discussed john burroughs, so i have no idea what he was actually talking about when he wrote this. All I know is what echoes in my ears now, decades later. What matter if I stand alone? My heart shall reap where it has sown. Sow something good. Because everyone knows, you reap what you sow. Take your heart, and start sowing. and get ready for it to bleed. and be open to it. because it's gonna bleed when an orhphan you love dies. it's going to bleed when your best friends keep making wrong choices. but if you just keep your heart to yourself... it's going to turn into a rock in your chest.
i don't know that any of that made sense, but it made sense in my brain. and it makes sense in my heart. my heart isn't always the best communicator. actually, it's rarely the best communicator and that gets me into trouble sometimes. it just gets passionate about something and starts yelling. .. ...... so, an invisible apology to all of you who don't read my xanga who've been yelled at by my over zealous heart. i'm sorry we got us into trouble.
And i'd like to leave you with my favorite liz lemon quote from 30 rock:
"Floyd's moving on, I'm moving on too! I'm just doing it in my own order! First I'm gonna buy the wedding dress, then I'm gonna have a baby... and then I'm gonna die... and THEN, I'm gonna meet a super cute guy in heaven!" - liz lemon. season 2, episode 1 or 2. go watch them on nbc.com .. right now.
jt, what up, homie?
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| hello.
so we're yard saleing tomorrow and saturday, and moving wednesday- -you know what that means. finding old notebooks.
this is like two years old. seems like it should be a lot older than that. oh, well. these are basically observations of my current state... two years ago.
a punch in the gut.. something akin to a cracked rib (or two).. this inwardly constrictive tug forcing my ribcage to collapse on itself harder to breathe sometimes... no fun to eat. exhale until my bones melt and my torso comes to rest on my lap... gross, i know.
'it's nothing against you to fall down flat, but to lie there- that's disgrace'
a friend of mine had a baby a few weeks ago. she had an epidural and the delivery wasn't as bad as she expected. she says labor hurts less than heartache. just throwing that out there. from the newly babied horse's mouth.
but that's how it felt. that's what heart break feels like. lamer than lame.
i'm moving to a new house next week. a real house, with three other girls- one of whom is my cool, messy younger sister. i'm messier than she is, but i pick up after myself when it comes to small messes like my clothes in the bathroom when i shower (i simply take them with me to my room when i leave the bathroom to go get dressed. she leaves her clothes in the bathroom in an ever-increasing pile, almost until it's time for her to wash clothes again. this is just one example) .. she doesn't get that. anyways. she's fun, though. and she laughs really easily most of the time. and we make weird noises together. and our other friend does, too. our other other friend is just plain crazy, and cool. so .. it's exciting.
jt, i hope you check your xanga.. i think you're the only one who happens to read this sometimes anymore!! .. which is why i sometimes post on here. it's for your entertainment, you mostly stranger. .. ok so that was a lie. also it's cathartic and few of my current friends, if any, ever read it.. so i can say whatever i want without really saying it, which is nice. anyways.
a couple of p.s.'s: i graduated a week ago. it was the most excellent feeling of my LIFE. if any of you have a car to give away, i'm currently accepting. and, i'm now addicted to not only the Office, but also 30 Rock.. and Lost. I have a birthday coming up, and I'd like Jack Shephard, please. or sawyer. or jim halpert if he never gets around to popping the question to pam. surprise me.
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| this is for you, miss pattie. a beardless picture.

Edit:::
we broke up two months ago. oops. sorry, miss pattie. | | |
| "hey, so, what are we?": a clever riddle to end would-be beginnings | | |
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