| View: | User Info. |
| View: | Friends. |
| View: | Calendar. |
| View: | Memories. |
| You're looking at the latest 6 entries. | |
|
|
InsaneJournal for Lily Fragility.
|
||||||||||
| Sunday, September 7th, 2003 |
|
||||
|
Militant Vegans, Shakira post-blonde dye, Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies Bitchy Teenagers, Scientologists, Baseball-card collectors People who like Anne Rice (IWTV movie doesn't count since it owned), Avril Lavigne, Pseudo-Goth prep haters Fluff Bunny Wiccans, Rednecks People who cannot use semi-colons, Republicans River Styx Politically Correct People River Phlegyas Fundie Christians People who cannot accept that they might be wrong Osama bin Laden, George Bush |
||||
|
|
| Wednesday, August 27th, 2003 |
|
||||||||
|
Standing There There was a tree upon a hill Green and lush and fair But it paled and turned to dust When I saw you standing there You did not see me (as Fate goes) Watching – or you did not care But the blue eyes of love can travel far And I saw you standing there Your face a sculpted Adonis A youth with raven hair You’d not be beautiful except for me Who saw you standing there What can I say – I only blame Myself, I do not dare To deem myself the likes of you Still, I saw you standing there Maybe tomorrow I’ll be a queen And you’ll drink like wine the life we’ll share But today is lost forever unless – You saw me standing there? For You Like God but still mortal man That flesh pervades the scented air I cannot deny that immortal face Merits a reflection equally fair It is selfishness to in my mirror meet Of such a youth – a deserving bride You deserve another Aphrodite To withstand eternity by your side I cannot measure – it’s all in vain To dress myself to beauty find You’d want of course, a better girl Or so I say to despair bind Your marble face has Venus sought For after all, does not Venus shine? Beauty unto beauty, I convince myself Until your hand (yours!) touches mine Drink Drink. Drink of this ephemeral bouquet The dreams I offer you Purple, scarlet, black, shimmering wine The cup of Aphrodite With this, I tempt you Feed on figs Lose yourself in all that I offer you Selflessly, selfishly Let us share the silken bliss of which we dream Let us unite on the plane of thoughts and spiritual marriage Let us discover the taste in these crystal glasses Of all that we held dear Drink. This higher magic, I offer you Blue, lavender, white, golden, sparkling champagne Joining, falling in our conscious mind Drink from the elixir of youth In this alternate reality where we shall be forever young Forever beautiful in each other’s eyes Preserved in glowing memory with thoughts of the ineffable I am giving you everything So oblivious to what is not love Mental, spiritual, transcendent, imminent, entire, eternal We are complete only in this jeweled room Covered in rubies, gold, and imagery Where all else is only colored glass Drink with me, darling That is all I ask It is all of which I dream Sleep on red roses Come with me Drink. Even though you are thinking of her Drink. The Adonis Haiku Ineffable face It tells of your soul’s stories I will be its star Ineffable eyes Blue, widened, and so childlike Tell me what you see Ineffable lips Rosy colored and youthful I want to kiss you Ineffable hands Long, soft, and effeminate Take mine into them Ineffable hair Dark like chocolate and long Mingled threads of love Ineffable soul Everything that I wanted I cannot see it Ineffable feet Supporting your perfection Spirit you away… A Sonnet About Envy A “green-eyed monster� it has been so called Though its eyes are black and forever cold That in its wake destroys and makes to fall Those that steal the maiden’s priceless gold And can we blame the woman that in love Curses the thief that takes her precious prize Does she merit punishment from above? With nothing but devotion in her eyes That jealousy lives only in love true The purest thing on earth is marred by hate And I am victim to its bitter view And my intention to reform has come too late For deep love has caused so much jealousy It took Heathcliff and now it has taken me Invisible Roses If roses are the flower of love Then roses at my feet do trace With all the passions of my heart The outlines of your perfect face If figs are the food of love And for diamonds does Venus shine Then I would serve a meal for us And your heart would be its wine If daggers cut the pain of love The world would die from its collective shame And all the teardrops of our hearts Would be spelling out your name If a single note was the song of love The note for you I’d play With thirsting lips too pained to sing My consciousness spirited away And if verses speak the name of love Then your volumes I would write A golden aphrodisiac Will enchant the both of us tonight |
||||||||
|
|
|
||||||
| Well, I would be listening to my lovely new Best of Siouxsie and the Banshees album. The limited 2-disc edition, no less! So why does it not appear under "current music", you ask? Well, let me tell you! You see, the idiotic company vh1.com, which promised 24-48 hour shipping, has my order currently under "processing" I ordered the damn thing Saturday! At least it gives me the opportunity to take it off my CDs to buy list, which currently includes Bauhaus, My Dying Bride, My Bloody Valentine, and Joy Division. I own nary a CD from any of them as of today. I am so not Goth, but by the time my birthday rolls around, I might get a CD or two from my mother. Now, I have a whole collection of poetry to post today. It's a pity nobody reads or answers this journal. Just as long as nobody I know reads this, I will be fine. Sigh.... All of this poetry is devoted to Alessio, , my Italian summer crush (in Italy, obviously). We've known each other for years, and this year, he has become gorgeous (I'm not shallow, of course, but last year I was too taken with somebody else to notice him, although he was always funny and sweet and...), but the whore of Babylon has captured his attention, as well as that of every single Italian male in our clique. My friend, who is in love with another member of said clique, and I are currently planning a cruel and harsh death for the Whore of Bablyon.... Dear, sweet Alessio. Marry me. I got to kiss him when we played Spin the Bottle. On the lips. And he gave me Frenching lessons at the suggestion of our friends. Maybe he liked me and got them to use it as an excuse. Who knows? I'll put the poems in a seperate entry. | ||||||
|
|
| Sunday, August 24th, 2003 |
|
||||||
|
Thought I'd answer this survey. I found it on Gothictramp's xanga: kudos to her. I hope she doesn't mind...if she does, please leave a comment and I'll take it off. -- Alias: Lily Fragility. --birthdate: 10/1/198? -- Birthplace: Undisclosed -- Current Location: the US - Eye Color: Blue -- Hair Color: Blondish red -- Righty or Lefty: righty -- Zodiac Sign: Libra -- Innie or Outtie: Innie // series two - describe -- Your heritage: Italian/Russian -- The shoes you wore today: white sandals -- Your hair: Long and wavy -- Your weakness? Tom Cruise as the Vampire Lestat, praise -- Your fears: losing people that I love, dying, drowning on the Titanic, losing, bad grades, Freddy Kreuger, clowns -- Your perfect pizza: Made in Italy, not here, cheesy and calorie-free -- One thing you'd like to achieve: I would like to win the Pulitzer // series three - -- Your most overused phrase on aim: LOL -- Your thoughts first waking up: Damn it, I want to sleep. -- The first feature you notice in the opposite sex: Eyes -- Your best physical feature: Eyes or hair -- Your bedtime: 11 to midnight -- Your greatest accomplishment: Getting my book published // series four - you prefer -- Pepsi or coke: neither -- McDonald's or Burger King: neither -- Single or group dates: Single, -- Adidas or nike: Nike -- Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Nestea -- Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate, but vanilla ice cream -- Cappuccino or coffee:Cappuccino -- Boxers or briefs: perverts // series five - do you -- Smoke: No -- Cuss: On occasion -- Sing well: I think so; others beg to differ -- Take a shower everyday: No, my skin has allergic reactions to overimmersion in water -- Have a crush(es): Yes -- who are they: He lives in Italy...so far away -- Do you think you've been in love: Yes -- Want to go to college: Yes --like high school: No more than the rest of us want to get married: Yes type with hands on the right keys: no -- Get along with your parents: With my mother. I don't know my father. -- Like thunderstorms: Love them -- Play an instrument: Acoustic guitar // series six - in the past month, did/have you -- Drank alcohol: Yes, but only a sip -- Smoke(d): no -- Done a drug: no -- Have Sex: No -- Made Out: Yes, in Spin the Bottle -- Gone on a date: Sort of -- Gone to the mall?: I've never been to a mall -- Eaten an entire box of Oreos: No -- Eaten sushi: No -- Been on stage: No -- Been dumped: No -- Gone skating: No -- Made homemade cookies: No -- Been in love: With the Italian Adonis -- Gone skinny dipping: NO! -- Dyed your hair: No -- Stolen anything: No // series seven - have you ever -- Played a game that required removal of clothing?: No, but I played Spin the Bottle -- If so, was it mixed company: No Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: No Changed who you were to fit in: No. // series eight - the future -- Age you hope to be married: 25 Numbers and Names of Children: 1) Christine (a real Christine, not just my alias) -- How do you want to die: I want to be assumed into heaven in a burst of white light along with my devoted husband, but that's probably not going to happen -- What do you want to be when you grow up: Author and indie filmmaker -- What country would you most like to visit: Egypt or India, just not right now. // series nine - opposite sex -- Best eye color?: Blue Best hair color?: Blonde like Tom Cruise in IWTV or dark brown/black Long hair?: Definitely Best height: Doesn't matter -- Best weight: I'm attracted to slender types. I hate muscle-y guys like Vin Diesel -- Best articles of clothing: Leather jacket -- Best first date location: Park -- Best first kiss location: Rose garden // series ten - number of -- Number of gurls I have kissed: Spin the Bottle and my mom don't count, do they? -- Number of drugs taken illegally: 0 -- Number of people I could trust with my life: lots-- Number of CDs that I own: 20-30 -- Number of piercings: 0 --What are they: NA -- Number of tattoos: None -- Number of scars on my body:0 -- Number of things in my past that I regret: Little things -- Get motion sickness: Yes -- Think you're a health freak: no-- Get along with your parents: so/so -- Like thunderstorms: Hell yes -- Play an instrument: Acoustic guitar |
||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
More c&ping from my xanga site: I have officially changed my religious title from "Christian Witch," which has gotten me numerous insults from both the Pagan and Christian community to "Almost-Catholic Mystic" Imagine it...Saint Christine. I doubt I am a real witch (in the non-Charmed sense), anyway. Most of my spells and rituals are actually prayers to God and Jesus with candles and incense. So, I'd rather be a mystic, at the risk of sounding pretentiously pious, than be a witch. In addition, I would love to convert to Catholicism. It's like Protestant Christianity, but with more beauty and ritual, and less emphasis on Hell and the "dEvIl" Speaking of the devil, I am convinced that R+F is the Anti-Christ. I post there under a different screen name and alias, but I am there,and have been there for a year, all the same. R+F, for those who have just crawled out from under the proverbial rock, is the Religion and Faith AOL teen message board. R + F has some incredibly intelligent people, most of which are either Catholics or unorthodox Christians or atheists. We don't have too many in between. The idiocy of the majority of the board is amazing. From the "You're going to Hell. Jesus is da bomb!" to "You Catholics worship Mary and statues" to "God blows, dude", the pink font and annoying large typing is just plain irritating. Sadly, I am an R + F addict. I am so not an intellectual at the moment. I should be reading my Proust (In Search of Lost Time: Volume Two), but I'm not really into it. Instead, I think I'll go straight into Isabelle Allende's The House of the Spirits. If anybody could comment on some good classics for me to read, I'd really appreciate. Christine's Favorite Book List 1) The Picture of Dorian Gray 2) Les Miserables 3) A Confederacy of Dunces 4) Quo Vadis 5) Catcher in the Rye I love to read, I really do. It's just that I don't read as much anymore; I have become addicted to the Internet. Oh, and my Interview with the Vampire and Heathers DVDs arrived today. I got to read the script for the Heathers original ending, and watch IWTV segments in French. Imagine, Tom Cruise as Lestat speaking French. It was the sexiest thing ever. I love the scene with the prostitutes and the coffin, gory though it may be. I was so mad when they cut it out of the UPN version that I taped. They cut all the good parts out of that...sigh. I wrote so many terrible poems yesterday. I wrote two that I liked, though. The worst one, I think, is "Sonnet to My Childhood," the worst poem I have ever written in my entire life. I'll include it along with the others, for you all to comment on. Not that anybody reads this damn thing. Aristocratic Rose Lace surrounds an ephemeral bouquet: There are delicate threads of gold And roses dark and scarlet red And youthful vigor turned so old And triggers for fascination’s flames Enchantment’s secret, unuttered name Imagery of the things we lost: Before the modern psyche’s birth We see turquoise spray and silver stone The treasured temple of this earth And evocation of a romantic time To drown ourselves in dream sublime Literary worlds that my mind has made: Stories of love and lovers’ lies With melodrama and sandalwood scent Beneath these different, more celestial skies Memories in which we never lived Ideals beyond what mortal treasures give Characters nonexistent that I have loved: Spiritual visions in translucent glass Red lips curled around sensual words The dowry of a hundred centuries past And still beckoning the distant glows The epitome of beauty: aristocratic rose Drawing: Time Counteracted Isn’t it funny? It seems that way to me. (I find it rather strange That after all my pretentious lies That I have at last defied the change With my own damn treachery I am nothing more than mortal I am nothing more than dust I have walked away from the open doors To the world I thought I must Enter) I find it ironic. Isn’t it ironic? It seems that way to me (I am finally drawing myself The picture resembles a porcelain doll That I have taken off the shelf That I have wanted for so long to be I am nothing higher than human I am nothing but the wind After my own longing and self-styling After all of this I have sinned Mortally) I find it insane. Isn’t it insane? It seems that way to me. (I have tried and tried again To turn myself into a saint But I belong to mortal men I have that fragility I am nothing more than modern I am nothing but blood and bone I don’t know if I have a soul After I find myself alone) I find it true (And truth be told The clock draws me forward Away from history Away from me But it’s not who I am, anyway I am only who I see) A Goddess’s Haiku Icy moonbeams rise Across the rolling oceans And creating light Summer someday comes And winter ever after When does God get sleep? Time goes quickly When we lose ourselves in bliss Soon I will grow old I would give up All for immortality Are you listening? The clock is still Why is the bell not chiming? Is this Nirvana? I longed to stop This infernal process from Spiraling me down I have now Immortality to win But I am tired I have myself I can live in the future When do I get sleep? A Sonnet to My Childhood When I was innocent and still I thought That I could be the empress of my soul Before I knew and promptly I forgot That nothing but my smile could make me whole When I was dancing in my girlish dreams A coquette at the tender age of eight Before my mirror turned evilly green And teachers named my sorrows taught me hate When I was innocent to wait for life And not even glancing at what dark befell I was a stranger to bleak and bitter strife Yet one day I awoke to find my hell I wished to turn back Time on its black head Lest I find my fragile daughter dead |
||||||
|
|
|
||||||||
|
It's terrible. I have the worst writers' block of all time. I was working on some poems on the theme of time for the collection I am doing, and I just felt so...dead. I lit some sandalwood incense, which gave me a few moments of inspiration, but once it burned out, I just felt like my writing wasn't channeling a crystal pool of inspiration; it was wrestling with a demon in the mud. I couldn't do any rhymes, so I ended up doing mostly free verse, and I don't usually like free verse. I should be doing my summer studying soon. The parental unit has assigned me a history course to do "for fun." in case I decide to go to a certain school, where I would have missed that part of the curriculum. I'm doing quite well in it, but I hate having to waste my summer working and studying. Granted, it's only 30 minutes a day, but it still bothers me |
||||||||
|
|
|
|
InsaneJournal for Lily Fragility.
|
||||||||||
giddy.
annoyed.
content.
lethargic.