dystopia

this more than likely is the end of thought_crime. i've started working on something for the new year. i want to keep writing, and i like the journal style writing, so i'm creating a part fiction, part non-fiction story that will be an on going process.

to view it, or keep track of it, add "about_lyndsay" to your friends list. or don't.

i'm writing for me now.

oh, anais.

thank you, america.

yesterday was the first time i actually had a good reason to drink champagne with good friends.

i'm not back.

so far it's eighty one to thirty four and it's still very early with only a slim amount of precincts reporting.

please, please, please america. don't fuck this up. again. again-again-again, to be quite honest.

*i'm also pleased to see him leading in north carolina (granted it's only ten percent reporting right now).

**and, of course, no worries in the aloha state. :)

***and he just took pennsylvania! one hundred and two to thirty-four!

on october 19th, 2008 i'll be participating in susan g. komen race for a cure. when i signed up for the 5k i didn't realize there was actually fund raising involved with it (genius, i know, but i totally thought the $30.00 registration fee was it), but it's for a good cause, so it's definitely worth the harassment. my overall goal is to raise $120.00, so any donations would be greatly appreciated. the link at the bottom goes straight to my page, but you won't be giving your money to me. it isn't linked to some shady bank account in the bahamas or switzerland.

so please, donate if you can!

http://race.komenhawaii.org/site/TR?pg=personal&fr_id=1020&px=1069823

so, i thought ren was dying last night, like, hardcore about to kick the bucket
but he just has allergies.

and that whole dying sound, is a reverse sneeze.
where he tries to suck in a ton of air through his nose to clear out whatever is irritating him.

i completely thought the vet was bullshitting me, because a reverse sneeze sounds ridiculous, and i kind of just wanted to say 'hey, it's cool (but not cool) if you don't know what's wrong, but don't bs me'. i even took a video clip of him on my phone doing it because i had no clue how to describe what he was doing.

i guess that's why she makes way more money than i do.
and it's hard to get angry at the nicest japanese lady, ever.

so, yeah. i've got the dog in the plastic bubble.
win.

"now", those plumbago lips say, "you are going to tell me your story like you just did. write it all down. tell that story over and over. tell me your sad-assed story all night." that brandy queen points a long bony finger at me.

"when you understand," brandy says, "that what you're telling is just a story. it isn't happening anymore. when you realize the story you're telling is just words, when you can just crumble it up and throw your past in the trashcan," brandy says, "then we'll figure out who you're going to be."

-invisible monsters

i'm borderline certain that she didn't exist. out of curiosity i added her to myspace for the sole purpose of seeing if anything was there, but, nothing. maybe i'm just hyper-sensitive, but it seems to me that if someone was your 'sister' that you'd have something there. pictures, words, fuck, anything. maybe it's her way of handling it, but i doubt it. i remember how she took it in the beginning. i want to say something, anything, but i don't know how, and i don't want to look obvious.

i really don't know what to do or say anymore, about anything really. i'm hurt, stressed, and i don't know what else. i literally felt i was going to have a heart attack last week. my chest hurt so, so bad to the point to where i couldn't fully inhale without feeling in pain.

back in the day, when i was the one hour photo guy (correct terminology: 'photospecialist'), i used to imagine that there couldn't possibly be a company/organization dispensing more bullshit on the regular

but i was totally incorrect.

i like standing poow on my duty days because i get to speak into the microphone and hear my voice echo everywhere. personally, i hate my voice, with a passion, but i love the fun comments that follow when i'm relieved. 'are you from socal?', 'were you a stoner way back when?', 'are you really that depressed?', or 'best eyore impression, ever'.

it doesn't matter how much or often the players rotate in this place- it still always sucks. sucks ass. hardcore. i have a little over two and half years left in the defense business, and then i'm out- for life.

my dreams and hopes constantly fail me. everytime a big idea rises in my head i have a set scenario for how everything should pan out, but it never works. i thought i could change something by joining the navy, but all i ever really change is uniforms. i thought moving to hawaii would be pretty amazing and fool proof, but it's nothing more than traffic, rainbows, and overstimulated japanese tourist. don't get me wrong, i love waking up here to the mountains, cool trade winds, and ocean, but it's so damn expensive, cramped, and difficult to receive much needed goods at times. i would highly encourage anyone to visit, but to live here, well...yeah.

i start introduction to mass communications in october! yay, education!

when i was riding my bike yesterday after sunset a creeper of a stray dog snuck up on me and bit my ass. it's red, swollen, and painful, and even though i just chided hawaii in the paragraph above i must praise it for it's strict animal codes/laws. no rabies equals no problem. i'm definitely not thrilled about getting ren microchiped in a few weeks. i'm not trying to play into the whole nineteen-eighty four paranoia of my journal, but seriously.

my ass really hurts.
true story.

let's start over --

the other night on duty i used a pay service to try to find her. my final step towards absolute creeper status. i tried everything i could think of, but i couldn't find a damn thing. birth certificate, death certificate, obituary -- it's as if nothing exist. the closest match i could find died in los angeles back in two thousand one. it's a year and three thousand miles off, but it's the closest match throughout the entire country.

if i were lied to, lied to about something such as this -- i don't even know. i've letters from her, a letter from her grandmother -- but i can't find her to save my life.

and that bothers me, because, lately, sometimes i feel like it's the only thing saving my life.

i bought a bicycle today -- and it's making me pretty ridiculously happy. i went for a ride around a little after sundown and it brought back an excessive amount of good memories. had you have been here i would have given you ride a on the handlebars; rolling past the wet, green yards and pink-purple sky.

sorting through my massive compact disc collection also makes me happy -- finding old favorites and new alike.

'catastrophe keeps us together' - rainer maria
'push bar man to open old wounds' - belle and sebastian
'take this to your grave' - fall out boy
'stay what you are' - saves the day
'crash' - dave matthews band
'eudora' - the get up kids

i really want to publish something, but the publishing world is so tricky/scary. it's terrifying to turn over your hard work to someone just looking to make a quick buck.

is what i really need right about now.
i'm still screaming.
but it's easier to just divert.
right into the wind.

i don't
want to feel
anything
anymore

let's just...pretend

we'll live
happily
ever

after.

when i hear renaissance affair i think back to a daydream where i imagined lying with in the dark listening to it. i don't know where we were, but there was a stereo, and the display gave off a soft blue glow.

i don't think i'm angry, at you, or, i don't even know at what. i think at heart i'm still just the only child throwing a temper tantrum because i can't get what i want.

it's not being 'just handed to me'.

pretty truthful self-assesment.

ditto.

'something of vengeance i had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavor, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.'

-charlotte bronte

war is peace
freedom is slavery
ignorance is strength

no, it doesn't mean you're blocked just because you can't see any further than this. this is a clean slate, with serious writing, observations, and the like.

everything regarding the past is finished- to an extent. no more lost time or words to laments.

pay attention to the world around you- before it can surround you.