kashimogirl

Sometimes songs are just...written for you.

Hot breath, rough skin, warm laughs and smiling, the loveliest words whispered and meant - you like all these things. But, though you like all these things, you love a stone. You love a stone, because it’s smooth and it’s cold. And you’d love most to be told that it’s all your own. You love white veins, you love hard grey, the heaviest weight, the clumsiest shape, the earthiest smell, the hollowest tone - you love a stone. And I’m found too fast, called too fond of flames, and then I’m phoning my friends, and then I’m shouldering the blame, while you’re picking pebbles out of the drain, miles ago. You’re out singing songs, and I’m down shouting names at the flickerless screen, going fucking insane. Am I losing my cool, overstating my case? Well, baby, what can I say? You know I never claimed that I was a stone. And you love a stone. You love white veins, you love hard grey, the heaviest weight, the clumsiest shape, the earthiest smell, the hollowest tone - you love a stone. You love a stone, because it’s dark, and it’s old, and if it could start being alive you’d stop living alone. And I think I believe that, if stones could dream, they’d dream of being laid side-by-side, piece-by-piece, and turned into a castle for some towering queen they’re unable to know. And when that queen’s daughter came of age, I think she’d be lovely and stubborn and brave, and suitors would journey from kingdoms away just to make themselves known. And I think that I know the bitter dismay of a lover who brought fresh bouquets every day when she turned him away to remember some knave who once gave just one rose, one day, years ago.

It is currently 0 degrees out.

I woke up this morning and made spring rolls in the kitchen downstairs. I brought my records played to the kitchen and jammed out to music from Charlie Chaplin, The Alamo, and "Feuding Banjos." It was good. Then at 2 I had my first radio show on the college radio station! It was slightly awkward, but generally okay. And I like it. For those of you who might be interested in listening.... I'll be on Saturdays from 2pm-4pm. Today I'll be on again from 10pm-11pm. You should listen! Just click this link   http://wmxm.org !

I also am working tonight from 4:30-1am. Not cool, seeing as how I have to walk around campus as my job. COOOOOLD. Wow. Cold.

But it's good-- I've had stuff to do all day today, that have generally been with people. Lauren came to my radio show today and helped me make sure I knew what I was doing. That was nice. Thanks!

This semester I got the 10 meal plan (as opposed to the 15) and I'm sorta excited because that means that I will be forced to cook a little more than last semester. And if there's one thing I miss about living at home is the home-cooked meals! Maybe tomorrow I'll go into Chicago.

I almost missed dinner today. Got there right as they were putting everything away.

Lately I've been wrapped up in things are that too relavent to the present. Things that are giving me trouble NOW, things that I have to learn NOW, people that bother me NOW, things to avoid NOW. And I feel like in doing that, I've been walking on my tip-toes with almost everything. Just being way too careful almost to an obsessive point. Maybe I'm going crazy. But whatever it is, it's really tiring. So I've been sleeping a lot too. I've also noticed how most things I'm paying attention to lately are negative. That needs to be fixed, and soon. The more negative things I focus on, the deeper I'll go and God know when I'll be back.

I still feel like I don't have people here. And I think what it is, is that I'm used to either being really close to like 1 or 2 people....OR.... knowing a lot of people pretty well only because I've known them for a long time. And now that I don't have either of those, I'm feeling it hard. Maybe I should transfer home. Why do I feel so out of place at this school? How can it be possible that there is nobody like anybody I know from home here? Why the fuck am I here? I mean... it's Friday night and here I am in my room-- nobody calling me, nobody stopping by.  Only one of my friends here understands me, but I've been taking special precautions to avoid said person. I can pretend too. It's like bending my elbow behind my back.


But there's so much more out there, and it's wonderful. Doesn't anybody else here care??? Chicago's so big, and I don't have anybody to explore it with me and I'm scared.

I'm not sure I've ever met a smarter man than John Trudell. He knows everything. I wish I could talk to him now. He's so in tune with the world and himself and big ideas of life that it makes him think he's crazy. When really, he's brilliant. He puts words to things I never thought I'd be able to hear spoken. I have the greatest respect for him.

I flew with the eagles until I fell from the nest
I ran with the wolves then got lost from the pack
Slowly, I go crazy everyday
Some days run faster than others

I never strayed into heaven
It was hard getting past hell
I traveled through and beyond the death and birth of man
I am Iktombi

Imagine running out of imagine
Mistaking authority for power
Weaving life’s free spirit into patterns of control

I heard all that was said
until now, I hear nothing at all
The age between twilight and dark
The great lie lurks

Prostitution of soul—anyone can do it or not
I went down some roads that stopped me dead in my tracks
I am Iktombi

I’ve been the mirror to others’ reflecting selves
I’ve known love that can’t help but love
And I’ve been close to that hurting way of love

I flew with the eagles until I fell from the nest
I ran with the wolves then got lost from the pack
From the earth wind-caved memories
One with the sky
Time of different motions
Dog days dreamer chasing the neon woven into minds

From my place in line I fell out of order
I’ve been here, I’ve been there, I’ve been anywhere
And, I haven’t been anywhere.
And I’ll be back again.
I am Iktombi.

Imagine running out of imagine
Mistaking authority for power
Weaving life’s free spirit into patterns of control

In reality of realities
How we see what we see affects the quality of our reality
We are children of earth and sky
DNA descendant, now ancestor, human being, physical spirit
Bone, flesh, blood has spirit
Metal, mineral, water has spirit
 
We are in time and space
But we’re from beyond time and space.
The past is part of the present,
The future is part of the present
Life and being are interwoven.

We are the DNA of earth, moon, plant, stars,
We are related to the universe
Creator created creation
Spirit and intelligence with clarity,
Being and human as power
We are a part of the memories of evolution
These memories carry our identity.

Beneath gender, race, class, age,
Beneath citizen, business, state, religion
We are human being
And these memories are trying to remind us
“Human beings, Humans beings,
It is time to rise up. Remember who we are.”

shoot me.

My bus got into Chicago early, clocking in at around 5:30am. So then I walk the 5 blocks with all my shit to Ogilvie (sp?) station only to find out they don't open until 7am. Awesome. Nothing's open. So i walk across the street to the Bank of America room, swipe my card, and walked in. I was in there for less than 5 mins getting warm and trying to figure out what to do, and a security guard walks in and is like "I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Sweet. It's cold, there's nowhere to go, I have a lot of stuff. So I walked around until I found this place, I'm not even sure what it is. Some sort of little convenient store? So i bought an apple and set my shit down. Got bored, got out my laptop, and somehow got internet. But the last shitty thing to top off the shit-pie is the first train back to Lake Forest doesn't leave until 10:30!

awesome. So i'm thinking that i'll stay here actually until it's time to go because i know I don't get internet at the train station. GR I just want to get back.

I've never had chocolate ice cream that tasted as good as the chocolate ice cream I had yesterday. I had never noticed that dusty, earthy flavor of the coco, or that something sweet, like honey or sugar cane. And there was something about the motion of the spoon--how it spun around that cold dairy and shaped it into some other smooth shape. My hand moved up and down, I almost couldn't control it. It wanted to go into my mouth. Yea, in fact, it was screaming at me to devour, Devour! And so I did. And my taste buds reacted and sent signals to my brain, which controls my heart and lungs. All this kept me alive.

I had this awful dream last night that six half-dead people were chasing me throughout my house. They wanted something from me, and I didn't know what it was, but they wouldn't leave me alone and I felt scared for my own life. So I had to kill them all, two at a time, two per room. After this was done, I walked into my kitchen (afraid I might find more) and started to become more afraid of what I was to do THEN. Call the police? Surely it looked like I had murdered people. Had I? Was I justified? Were they trying to kill me? Am I crazy? Am I going to jail for six counts of intentional man slaughter?

Good morning. I have to work in a half an hour. Get up. Get dressed. God life is good. I love being alive and I love living my life. I love being able to choose to take on responsibilities of a citizen and as a mature adult. It just saddens me that this isn't true for everybody, because everybody deserves a chance. And when you feel like you never get that chance, what are your options then? Be unhappy forever? Get shut away somewhere? "Deal?" I'm not sure.

I've been struggling with this idea lately, passing it from palm to palm and through my fingers and I'm not sure I've quite learned its shape or boiled it down yet.

i spent new years laughing my ass off and MAN did it feel good. And I'm talking LAUGHING. Like.. almost peeing sort. Or at some point almost vomitting from laughter-- which i tried to control, and managed to. Barely. And I couldn't fall asleep because it felt like I was flying through space, but once I did sleep, i slept really really well.

And this morning we went out for pancakes, then later to half priced books and then to IKEA. I bought LPs and a new blanket and pillow. And I need a shower.

It's super awesome how none of my friends that I had for so many years haven't called me. But I suppose that's how I know who my real friends are, right? I've been avoiding this realization, but being home it's been pissing me off more and more. I shouldn't have to call my friends to beg them to hang out. They should call me, I should want to call them, and it should be easy. Then again if they invited me to anything I would probably kindly decline... because i don't know any of them anymore. And i don't really care to. I don't know what i'm talking about.

What is important is that I have a few friends here, that I HAVE NOT MADE AT SCHOOL, that called me and that care about me and that wanted to hang out with me. Those are the people that are worth my time. And those are the people that, while we are so different in a lot of ways... we can sort of just... ignore that and be the same. And not many people can do that.

On the boy front, i have made a few realizations. But a big one was brought to my attention by Ali (a girl i wish i could see more). After talking for a few hours she mentioned how I always manage to find the perfect boyfriend who is somehow socially inept. I'd never thought about it that way, but then I look at the people I've been with... and she's totally right. So I've been asking myself that question--what is it about people who have bad people skills that I like?? I really have no idea. Maybe it's the mystery--the intrigue--maybe it's the challenge? But I have realized that I dislike being completely in control, just as much as I dislike being completely out of control. So maybe the next guy will be less socially retarded and we will both be in control (just a little) of the other? lol. More to come on this topic.

my brother just told me something terribly interesting:

"SHARK BAIT OO HA HA"

And with that, I leave.

done with finals. done with semester. done with packing and cleaning. done with life for a while. just gotta get home. ms austin called today and we talked. she's funny.

and now im going to buy the foods (and drinks) for the bus ride home. i dislike the bus.

Yo se que te acordaras
plenamente estoy seguro
veras otro amanecer,
otros brazos, otra piel
pero nunca un amor puro.

Todo , todo te entregue
de mi vida mis adentros
con el alma te adore
con tu amor me equivoque
tu no tienes sentimientos.

Te olvidare, te olvidare
por esta cruz que no te miento,
vas a sufrir, vas a llorar
para que sientas lo que siento.
Te acordaras, te acordaras
de aquellos besos que nos dimos,
y volveras a ese lugar
donde tu y yo nos conocimos.

I still don't know what to say, maybe you don't either.

In other news, i found an ear piece up in security that i'm totally using tomorrow for my radio. I will be unda cova! Doesn't sound so exciting but... you know.. it's the little things.

I'm not nearly as nervous and studious as I should be for my last two finals. At this point, i'm just excited to get home. And right now i'm excited to get back to my room and eat chocolate. I'm excited to get home and go skiing and see my peoples and see my mom and my brother and my house. And work at the coffee shop. It'll be like a time warp back to last year. Then I'm excited for my classes next semester too.

And I'm excited for it to eat away, because it will.

^_^

There are actual transmissions on the Lake Forest Campus police radio today:

me: 20
dispatch: dispatch
officer: 6


i was doing my rounds and all of the sudden I hear,

Dispatch: ...and the night is young.
20: ...............AND SO AM I!!
Dispatch: Who was that phantom voice?
20: That was 20, sorry.
Dispatch: Sounds like someone's been sipping the special syrup.
6: ....That was me... don't tell anybody.
Dispatch: Toooo laaaate.
6: .......MERRIZEL CHRISTMIZZLE MY HOME DIZZLE FO SHIZZLE!!!!!

***LATER***

6: 6 to dispatch, back on campus, ending mileage 43553.
Dispatch: 10-4
6: I'm going to be jumping from building to building in one single bound.
Dispatch: hah, 10-4
6: ..............Dispatch, disregard that last transmission. I forgot my cape at the drycleaners.
20: 20 to 6.
6: This is 6, go ahead 20.
20: I've got like 6 capes up in my room, you wanna use one?
6: Oooooh, this intrigues me.
20: Yea, i got green, blue, black, red, purple or white. Which one you want?
6: Tie em all together. UN.DA.   CO.VA    BRA.THA.!
20: 6, 10-4.

Yes. Amazing. Hopefully more to come. This has made my night

So here it comes--what I need to say. Brace yourselves for run-ons and choppy sentences and jumpy thoughts.

First of all, I'm not angry. And I never was. I was upset and confused, later frustrated, but never angry at you about what happened. I was sad with the way things are now. And I know people deserve time and chances. And I wasn't expecting it--I wasn't looking for it-- but sometimes those things are the ones that make the difference in the end. Who knows. And if you're going to be a bad friend and not even spend any time with me or talk to me like we used to...it sucks...but that's o.k. I can deal. I'm me. And by the way, keep throwing me wild cards too, those are fun; I will take them in stride. I will say that that one today caught me off-guard and made me yell "What the FUCK" pretty loud right before Don's exam. People were confused. But then again, so was I. Of course, the day after it finally hits me, when I think, "hey, I just have to suck it up because there's nothing else for me to do, so let's have at it," my background throws it all off. But I'm almost all re-centered again. See? Stride. I have been teetering back and forth, but because I can't bring myself to believe in "revenge," I've managed to control my spite and let you be happy. Because in the end, I want us both to be happy, and I don't need anybody for that. I laugh a lot alone. Just differently.

But I am a forgiving soul. It's almost a flaw of mine-- a flaw I can control. Ask anyone here. You piss me off a little, I'll probably get over it and forget about it in an hour or two. Just scale it. Only this one takes effort and energy and will. But I've got that. I have to. And even though it's broken, things heal. And I'll sleep in my bed without anticipation every night in the next week, the next month, the next year...

I didn't expect anything to happen at all, and after that I didn't expect things to happen the way they did. With anything. So I suppose I was right, and now I'm off my feet, where you used to keep me. Down here I'm different, but still me. But I'm still me, still here. And I don't need anyone.

I've always been good at occupying myself, even since I was a little girl. I used to play with faeries by the lake and build them stick-houses tied together with thread. I would build chairs and beds and tables out of leaves and keep walking and leave it there until the faeries used it, then i would build another one. Once I put a letter in a bottle and threw it into Lake Superior. Nobody ever wrote me back, or maybe their old bottle never found it's way to me.  And now I  sing with myself  and work and write and learn about things I like.

Hi, my name is Saijen. Give me a task and I will rock it. Give me a dilemma, an assignment, an exam, a challenge. I will edit the hell out of your paper and pay homage to the strongest woman I know. She said it herself, "My on-campus mom."  And this Christmas I will see her and we'll have coffee like we used to and I'll tell her about you and she'll understand. And I'll call up the one who shaped me before her, and I'll do the same thing. And I'll work at the coffee shop and do the same thing.

I have always been surrounded by strong women. My mom and grandma, my aunts. I grew up in a house with all of them. And I have Meagan and Daley from my old Sunday shift at the Bean Factory and Cecelia, my best feminist/post-modernist professor from St. Kates and Laura from Rudies. And I have my high school teachers. I have one in California and two in Japan, I've got a post in Seattle, one in New York, one in Argentina, one in Northern China, all my family that I love in Norway-- my girls in Spain.

And do you know how many I have in Lake Forest? None. Nobody. So I am reformatting myself to want to relate to people less. For now. It'll work. Watch.

So who was this for? Parts for you, parts for me.  Ideas I wanted to articulate with words... and let you know. And talk to you again, because I can't say this stuff just in passing. Now it's 4:30 in the morning and I'm going to sleep.

I hate those fucking dancing adds that are all over myspace. They are so stupid--nobody looks like that when they dance.

I think I'm not scared of dying. And I think it will be exactly how people say it is; spirit guides will go with you to a white light that calls your name. Cliche. Sorry. I met somebody who died on the table before. He described it just that way. Sometimes in movies they show it that way...but I was always a little skeptical.

I was sitting in my room laying on my back in my bed, looking at my ceiling thinking. I believe that things happen for a reason. Not that I will always like what happens, but that it happens for a reason. Karma. Karma is kicking me in the ass as we speak. Bare with me on this one. Why is snow white? I mean... it could have been another color... why white? (And i'm not asking scientifically.. I'm talking one step beyond that). In the winter the grass dies, then is covered by this white snow. I guess the plants have it just like we do-- go into a white world.

So on this same train of thought, I thought about how it must be some sort of sign that is staring us in the face. What is it like to die? It is like being a blade of grass that first begins to turn, then is covered in snow. But then different grass grows in that same place the next year. I believe in reincarnation. Not exactly...not like "I can trace this one soul through all these people." But just in the sense that... souls leave, they come back. I don't think the soul is like something that we can make more of, like hydrogen molecules. They can bond and break, but there are only so many here, and they just keep getting recycled.


It's always what I don't expect. Sometimes it's exciting and other times sinking.

I've been pumping out about a song a night. And going to bed around 4 because of it. And i just woke up. And I feel groggy.

Pieces of a November Blue

And If I weren't leaving, would I catch you dreaming
And if I weren't gonna be gone now, could I take you home
And if I told you I loved you, would it change what you see
And if I was staying, would you stay with me
And if I came to you tomorrow, and said let's run away
Would you roll like the wind does, baby, would you stay
My heart was dancing, to a November tune
And I hope that you hear it, singing songs about you
And I sing songs of sorrow, because you're not around
See, babe, Im gone tomorrow, baby, follow me down
I don't know why I have to, but this girl must move on
I love my time here, didn't know 'til I was gone
November shadows, shade November change
November spells sweet memory, the season blue remains
November spells sweet memory, the season blue remains
Oh baby, tell me I'm not leaving, you're everything I dreamed
I'm killing myself thinking, I've fallen like the leaves

And I don't like not talking. It's just that I don't know what to say. I'm tired.

I know what I want.

I just really, really, really want to go home. With my support system. The way I used to live. None of this...alone stuff. I miss the people that used to charge me up. I miss Ms. Austin and Tim and Derek and Rudies and Verno and Marissa. I miss knowing everybody, or possibly knowing somebody. I miss Minnesota nice--smiling at people as they walk by. I miss my mom and my brother. I miss my cats and my house and my coffee shop and my streets. I miss my city and everything it means. Lake Forest is still not, by any means, my home, and that's one of the things I realized big time today. I'm not at home.

There are so many things I miss right now.

And now I have nothing to say.

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dyke.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give—yes or no, or maybe—
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

Oh my, what a day.