8.31.04
6.29.04 elliott smith, "come to me"
6.1.04 death cab for cutie, "pictures in an exhibition"
2.20.04 elliott smith, "seen how things are hard"
1.21.04 the appleseed cast, "portrait"
1.16.04 the dandy warhols, "sleep"
12.26.03 bis, "antiseptic poetry"
6.30.03 nada surf, "blizzard of '77"
6.20.03 crystal method, "keep hope alive"
5.23.03 arab strap, "screaming through the trees"
5.08.03 spoon, "me and the bean"
4.14.03 comp lit 288 writing self evaluation
3.30.03 mason jennings, "hospitals and jails"
3.05.03 radiohead, "fake plastic trees"
2.25.03
2.24.03
2.22.03 rem, "i don't sleep, i dream"
2.15.03 sunny day real estate, "in circles"
2.07.03 poem
2.06.03 modest mouse, "might"
1.28.03 bright eyes, "don't know when but a day's gonna come"
1.20.03 poem, elliott smith, "l.a."
1.19.03 rainer maria, "portland"
1.16.03
1.14.03 ryan adams, "bartering lines"
1.10.03
1.01.03 ryan adams, "gimme a sign"
12.29.02 poem
12.25.02
12.21.02 poem
12.10.02 alanis morrissette, "unsent"
12.09.02(no.2)
12.09.02(no.1)
12.08.02
12.06.02
11.19.02 ryan adams, "harder now that it's over"
11.14.02
11.13.02 rem, "she just wants to be"
11.05.02
11.01.02
10.30.02 ryan adams, "dear chicago"
10.23.02
10.22.02
10.21.02 poem
10.12.02
10.08.02
10.07.02 david gray, "my oh my"
9.11.02
8.31.02 poem
8.17.02
7.15.02 get up kids, "overdue"
7.12.02 tome petty, "you don't know how it feels"
6.14.02 poem, the smiths "asleep"
6.06.02 poem, speechwriters LLC "beach song"
5.27.02 sebadoh, "brand new love"
5.13.02
5.08.02
5.02.02 pete yorn, "girl like you"
5.01.02 bright eyes, "it's cool, we can still be friends"
4.25.02 heatmiser, "bastard john"
4.24.02
4.20.02
4.19.02

8.31.04

goddamn i hate when things are stolen from under my feet.


6.29.04

i'd say i'm about to be my own worst enemy.


"i can't see anything you've done
any reason for the trouble you've got
you haven't hurt anyone
compared to most i'd say you're quite alright
i can't help you when you're sad
that's a constant source of pain to me
because i want to really bad
even though you make it seem like nothing"

-elliott smith, "come to me"

6.1.04

so i had these chances, and i let them all pass. and then i breathed of the moment, hoping the moment would wish to breathe me back, but all i got was the summer rain.


"I think you caught me on the downslide, downturn
I was busy writing with a pen and paper, thin dream
and all your plastic people with plastic hearts and smiles
they had the worst intentions all along after all....

The royal castle holds the melodrama kings and queens
And all their dazzling children; they're so regal, so clean
With pristine fingertips they wash behind their ears
And let their hair down 'til the audiences leave

I'm definitely shaking
The silence isn't breaking
Backwashed and stranded memories
Of something I thought could be"

-death cab for cutie, "pictures in an exhibition"


2.20.04

took you to the train
stupid shit you just play
i took pictures in my head
you look like a skeleton now
we're all getting drunk instead
seen how things are hard
seen how things are hard
i love you though
seen how things are hard
seen how things are hard
you dont, you know
the state what you've become
stay well away from trouble that you caused
using all your strength to keep the world at an arm's length
and i get upset...
seen how things are hard
seen how things are hard
i love you though
seen how things are hard
seen how things are hard
you dont, you know
all the crap that means nothing
i cant make corrections for you
you have to help patch things up
seen how things are hard
seen how things are hard
i love you though
seen how things are hard
seen how things are hard
you dont, you know

-elliott smith


1.21.04

we have come.
and we are here for you.
the sovereign low.
the time has come.
the serenade begins.
here i am.
dress the fool and what i say is wrong.
i am not the one you're looking for.
the cool one.
the fine one.
i am just this man.
incomplete.
and unsubstantial.
and i am here for you.

-the appleseed cast, "portrait"

1.16.04, 12:12am

well I could sleep forever
but it's of her i dream
if i could sleep forever
i could forget about everything
if i could sleep forever
if i could sleep forever
if i could sleep forever

-the dandy warhols, "sleep"

12.26.03

is hate really negative, is love really positive?

it's not place to speak about emotion
other side of my face, dealing with devotion
who will want to know? too hard to be personal
who will want to know? run the risk of losing all
who will want to know? where did i find this heart?
who will want to know? anaesthetic jump-start

is hate really negative, is love really positive?

yeah, i can fell misplaced, redfaced and nervous
but it's no disgrace, she uses super space-dust
who will want to know? let's me know i'm still a kid
who will want to know? and it's okay to act like it
who will want to know? makes me happy for awhile
who will want to know? galactic movie-star smile

is hate really negative, is love really positive?

no strong point, not my territory
no strong point, subject new to me
no strong point, heart stings, it's a hit
no strong point and no anaesthetic

is hate really negative, is love really positive?

-"antiseptic poetry," bis

6/30/03

in blizzard of ’77, the cars were just lumps on the snow.
and then later, tripping in 7-11 the shelves were stretching out of control.
on a plane ride, the more it shakes, the more i have to let go.
now the signals, still getting all mixed up, we’re always doing damage control.

but in the middle of the night, i worry, it’s blurry even without light.
in the middle of the night, i worry, it's blurry even without light.
i miss you more than i knew. i miss you more than i knew.

i know i have got a negative edge, that’s why i sharpen all the others a lot.
it’s like flowers or ladybugs, pretty weeds or red beetles with dots.

but in the middle of the night, i worry, it's blurry even without light.
in the middle of the night, i worry, it's blurry even without light.
i miss you more than i knew. i miss you more than i knew.


-nada surf, "blizzard of '77"
6/20/03

so i got the official A for effort. maybe tomorrow life will give me a gold star.

"and i say this to you tonight: let us not forget, there is hope!"
-the crystal method, "keep hope alive"


5/23/03

i do not regret the things i have done, but those i did not do. and after this surreal night of simultaneous perfection and imperfection, i find that i lack any accurate way of describing my mess of feelings. how is one when one does not know how they feel?

"We met on mutual ground but you avoided my gaze, until I lost your face in the next morning's haze. Your shoes could've woken up the whole street. They drowned out the birds screaming in the trees. We sat down on the stone stairs and I watched the scars on your knees. We met on mutual ground, you fell out of your dress. This bar's not open late enough, so let's go home and make a mess. They smiled and left the room to leave us with more space, But we stayed where we were and just had a drink to the chase. A good night kiss equals a quick reaction, but it's hard to believe I'm fully grown. So as usual, we parted on vague terms, so you could climb back on your throne."

-arab strap, "screaming through the trees"


5/8/03

in the midst of the craziness, the shit, the *life,* this world always has a way of telling me that it's really quite a small place and that everything is truly the way it is meant to be. as quentin tarantino once told me (in a dream, mind you), everything is gonna be okay.

there's a girl in my yard
reading me my tarot cards
she don't know anything
but she's beautiful to me

my eyes are opening again
I see you as you're marching in
I'll bring you cover when you're cold
you'll bring me youth when I grow old

do you when remember when you were small
how everybody would seem so tall
I am your shadow in the dark
I have your blood inside my heart

-spoon, "me and the bean"


4/14/03

it is a self-defining feature. an adjective used to describe myself. a creative outlet. writing isn't simply something i do, but rather a part of who and what i am. and i make it my own; altering and creating syntax for the purpose of self-expression, my deliberate lack of capitalization not because i'm lazy but simply because i feel that words should not receive the extra weight capitalization gives them unless it is specifically intended and meant. capitalization is not something to be taken lightly.

i started writing as soon as my pencil could form the words on paper. i remember entering a writing contest in the second grade. thanks largely to my stubborn nature, i would be content entering nothing but a compilation of poetry (yes, i was indeed ahead of many of my peers, and by the age of seven had already begun composing poetry). my father, who over the years has been the consistent foil to my writing, would not allow me to do so, insisting instead that i write a short story. after damn near giving up (it was at about this point that i decided that if i couldn't have my way i no longer wanted to have anything to do with the contest; my father, being just as stubborn as myself, wouldn't let me quit) i wrote and entered the simple story of a young girl, a writer with a severe mental block after being told she couldn't write poetry. much to my chagrin, it won second place.

my writing progressed and quickly became a passion. i took every secondary jounalism and creative writing class i could, not only to increase my writing skills, but also to placate my happiness. after a few years, however, my skills virtually exhausted themselves. a stagnancy. death. while i don't believe i'm the pinnacle of literary talent, i won't deny that i have the (somewhat innate) ability to write well. my skills, however, reached their plateau of greatness at about age 16, and have not since found their way up the rest of the literary mountain. there has to be something else, i'm sure of it. i just haven't found the map yet.

after the living joke that is high school, i found myself at a large university, one of great thoughts, great protests, and people to match my intellect. my skills of writing were a great asset, impressing the instructors of lesser classes and allowing for the greater expression of any and all ideas i needed to convey. that is, until i took a course with a heavy concentration in writing. something that was always effortless, that flowed from my fingers as if they themselves were doing the talking, i now found challenging. i had met my second literary foil. and while it made me happy to be mentally challenged once more, the class resurrected my former fears that my writing is dead; i felt as if no longer could i create anything that surpassed my previous expecations. perhaps it was simply that i'd fallen back into a groove, a specific pattern of writing and of predictable topics, but even given the constraints of something different, i still fell back into old habits, comfortable ideas, and familiar sentence structures.

welcome to comp lit 288, a course in none other than--you guessed it--literature and writing, two of my favorite things. however, though given specific formats and constraints of topic, i found myself consistently falling into my familiar rut. my close readings, a few which had to be completed more than once due to a poor choice of quotes, all centered themselves on ideas that readily appealed to me (thus the reason of poorly chosen quotes; really, who wants imagery when you can have philosophy?). my first close reading was on hamlet, my favorite shakespearian work. of all quotes, i chose hamlet's "what is man" speech; this closely parallels many of my own personal beliefs of the superficiality of human existence (perhaps it's because i'm cynical. hell, i grew up in the suburbs. that should explain just about anything). writing style aside, i think my analysis was good and went fairly into depth, even addressing literary and poetic elements, such as similes and metaphors (leave it to a poet to recognize poetic devices, however subtle). my argument could have been stronger, however. "Hamlet believes that while humanity may be physically perfect, that perfection cannot be merely enough when the physical world is transient" (untitled 1 1) (would it have been possible for me to use the words "physical" or "perfection" any more? wow.). for some reason i seem to have much more trouble lending weight to literary arguments than i do those arguments and editorials that you readers have come to know and love (most of which are philosophical, political, or angry in nature, and therefore so much more fun...)

after a slightly disappointing, though most certainly not daunting, writing debut for the course, i managed to produce a series of drafts, all of which were well-written (though none that fit the assignment), for my next close reading. again, the ideas i felt that my final selection of quote conveyed were in accordance with my own views. i think that for a vast majority of people it is simply easier to write about something you like than something you have no interest in whatsoever; my choice of topics could have helped hinder my writing style, because i didn't force myself to look outside of my own interests for a topic.

then was the task of a seven-page research paper. yay research paper! (and yes, feel free to insert the "what a dork" comment here, because i said what i meant and i meant what i said. marvin k mooney, it is time for bed. oh, good old dr. seuss....) those of you who truly know me can take a guess at my choice of topics: the marriage of catholicism, philosophy of theology, and hamlet. my first draft was certainly less than stellar, but with midterms and all, my brain was utterly and completely fried. there was simply no room for the complete mental excogitation of a paper for the sole reason being that i didn't feel it was completely up to my own par. if i had taken the time fully mentally hash out the paper, i would have probably spent two or three nights without sleep, and though there are 24 usable hours in every day, when you only spend about five of them in sleep, you don't readily give up those five. spring break gave me the distance i needed from the paper; any major work must be revisited after a period of separation from its creator in order to obtain the best results. i decided to change my thesis and focus more on a specific idea, namely that literary characters are manifestations of an author's mind, rather than the more ambiguous, though related, ideas i had included in my original draft. it was a good move, but again i lacked the time (and energy!! that whole life thing really takes it out of ya..) to thorougly complete my train of thought; if i had spent more time in the brainstorming process i am quite sure i would have produced something much better. i had some good ideas, like the polar spirit of coleridge's "rime of the ancient mariner" being roughly equivalent to the holy spirit (untitled 3 4). in hindsight i see where i could have easily furthered this and other ideas to make the argument stronger. instead of merely visiting each idea, topics could have been more in-depth and better correlated to each other.

perhaps it is that my literary mountain isn't constructed solely of my writing style, but instead of a variety of things (as are the granite layers in real mountains), and includes my writing content as well. i have great ideas and great ways of expressing them; there are certain pieces, however (namely academic ones, where even if i like my topic i am not as thoroughly enthralled or gung-ho as i am when composing poetry or an editorial for release on this here website), that i don't expand all of my ideas when necessary. instead of stepping back and viewing my work from a reader's standpoint, as a true writer does, i often just go with the flow of my ideas, letting them flow from my brain and through my fingers. david thoreau, after all, did note that poetry was nothing but natural speech, and it seems to me that prose is nothing but simple poetry. i guess i've always felt that poetry was not something fabricated, but something that was inspired and therefore just flowed from brain to paper. i like this definition of writing, but it really only works from an artistic standpoint, not an academic one. though i have always defined myself as beings simultaneously both a writer and a poet, i think perhaps i need to further separate my two literary lives into artistic and academic, so that each type of writing isn't influenced by the other.

it's not that my mind is an uncreative one. during the four-hour drive back from minneapolis one weekend, while my mind was thoroughly clouded with heavy thoughts, i realized i was listening to the album "it's a long drive for someone with nothing to think about" by modest mouse. the first line to come to mind was the mental creation "the car moved foward with the propensity of the future." it is ideas like this that form the base of my mountain; it is comforting to know that at least my base is solid. stemming from these rock striations (my ideas) is my writing style, which to reach i must climb slightly farther. from my camp out on this mountain plateau, i can discern through the clouds, if i look hard enough, the marriage of these two, the fully developed content. i think right now we're in a sort of trial engagement.


ps-ask me to read my work!

kummet, kristin m. untitled 1. madison, wi: kummet 2003. 1-3.
kummet, kristin m. untitled 2. madison, wi: kummet 2003. 1-2.
kummet, kristin m. untitled 3. madison, wi: kummet 2003. 1-7.


3/30/03

so i made a complete ass of myself. you're supposed to do one thing each day that scares you, right? well, i did it. and was reminded why i don't partake of that particular ideaology. i threw caution to the wind, gave it a shot, and completely choked. failure is all to be received of trying. if you don't mind, i think i'll crawl back into myself for a while.



"And all the mountains turn into hospitals and jails
I can always count on your love to be my bail
So we'll go traveling on from year to year
Just you and I, my dear

Well I woke up in the middle of the kitchen floor
I was listening for your knocking
But you weren't outside my door
And I know that you won't be coming 'round
In the way I want you to
I wish you'd throw your arms around me

But it's not for me
It's not for me
It'll be just me
It'll be just me

And I know I never told you how I felt
But you could never understand the blues that you have dealt me
So I keep traveling on from year to year

It'll be just me, my dear
It'll be just me, my dear
Same thing year after year
It'll be just me, my dear"

-mason jennings, "hospitals and jails"

i'm feeling the pre-show mason love....


3/5/03

her green plastic watering can, for her fake chinese rubber plant
in the fake plastic earth
that she bought from a rubber man
in a town full of rubber plans
to get rid of itself
it wears her out
it wears her out

she lives with a broken man
a cracked polystyrene man
who just crumbles and burns
he used to do surgery for girls in the eighties
but gravity always wins
and it wears him out
it wears him out

she looks like the real thing
she tastes like the real thing
my fake plastic love

but I can't help the feeling
i could blow through the ceiling
if I just turn and run
and it wears me out
it wears me out
if I could be who you wanted
if I could be who you wanted all the time...

-radiohead, "fake plastic trees"

one of the first songs i ever learned to play on guitar, and somehow i always seem to forget just how much i love it...




2/25/03

so i get to fail a midterm on thursday, my car's back in the shop, and it has been brought to my attention that a pedophilic coworker of mine referred to me as "the child of death." life is grand.

kristin's realization of the day: the worst way to fail is by not allowing yourself to succeed.


2/24/03

trust Him when dark doubts assail you,
trust Him when your strength is small,
trust Him when to simply trust Him
seems the hardest thing of all.

trust Him, He is ever faithful;
trust Him, for His will is best,
trust Him, for the Heart of Jesus
is the only place of rest.

trust Him, then, through doubts and sunshine;
all your cares upon Him cast.
til the storm of life is over,
and your trusting days are past.

-unknown, making an appearance on my newest coffee mug


2/22/03

as quentin tarantino told me last night in my dream, "everything is gonna be okay."

I'm looking for an interruption,
do you believe?
You looking to dig my dreams
Be prepared for anything
You come into my little scene
Hooray hooray hip hip hooray
There's one thing I can guarantee:
You won't have to dig, dig too deep

Said leave me to lay, but touch me deep,
I don't sleep, I dream
I'll settle for a cup of coffee, but you know what I really need

Are you looking to drive my dreams?
You here to run my screens?
You come, deliver my demons
Hooray hooray hip hip hooray
Are you coming to ease my headache?
Do you give good head?
Am I good in bed?

I don't know, I guess so
I don't sleep, I dream
I'll settle for a cup of coffee, but you know what I really need

I'm looking for an interruption,
can you believe?
Some medicine for my headache
Hooray hooray hip hip hooray
I'm pitching for a new direction
Pinch me when I wake
Don't tell me my dreams are fake
you leave me to lay, you touch me deep,
I don't sleep, I dream
I'll settle for a cup of coffee, but you know what I really need
Leave me to lay, but touch me deep,
I don't sleep, I dream
I'll settle for a cup of coffee, but you know what I really need

-rem, "i don't sleep i dream"


2/15/03

meet me there
in the blue
where words are not
the feeling remains
sincerity
trust in me
throw myself into your door...

i go
in circles (running down)

meet me there
in the blue
where words are not
the feeling remains
i dream
to heal your wounds
but i bleed myself
oh i bleed myself

i go
in circles (running down)

-sunny day real estate, "in circles"


2/7/03, 12:54 am

i can't bear to take off this sweater
of a scent that is my childhood, my future and my now
and it was those lights, and the air that i couldn't see through (it was thick with that smell of mine)

and i was happy

it stays with me still, 'cos i know now that my knapsack is really a suitcase and i'm really here to stay.
so long as i have those lights and the smell (the one that belonged to my previous, my father, my brother, my grandmother, my former happiness)
the elements weren't completely the same nor completley complete.
but it was good enough to be the best in a while.

-kristin kummet, 2/7/03


2/6/03

I might
And you might
But neither of us do, though
And neither of us will
I broke every bone in my goddamn jaw
That's a lot it's the last one I ever got
I might
And you might
But neither of us do, though
And neither of us will
Yesterday night I broke every bone in my jaw
Thought so hard it's the last thing I ever thought

-modest mouse, "might"


1/28/03

Is it true what I heard about the Son of God
Did he come to save, did he come at all
And if I dried his feet
With my dirty hair
Would he make me clean again

Don't know when but a day is gonna come
When there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun
It will just go black
It will just go back
To the way it was before

I knew a lovely girl with such pretty pride
And every man wanted her and so did I
And so did I
But she up and died
In a fit of vanity

Now men with purple hearts carry silver guns
And they will kill a man for what his father has done
But what my father did
You know it don't mean shit
I'm not him

So you think I need some discipline, well I've had my share
I have been sent to my room, I've been sat in a chair
And I held my tongue
I didn't plug my ears
No, I got a good talking to

Now I don’t know why but I still try to smile
When they talk at me like I’m just a child
Well I’m not a child
No I am
Much younger than that

And now I have read some books and I have grown quite brave
If I could just speak up I think I would say
That there is no truth
There is only you
And what you make the truth

So I will just sing my songs and I'll pass a hat
Then I'll leave your town and I'll never look back
No I won't look back
Because the road is clear
Layed out ahead of me

I'll get home and meet my friends at our favorite bar
We'll get some lighter heads for our heavy hearts
And we will share a drink
Yeah we'll share our fears
Adn they will know how I love them
They will know how I love them
They will know how I love them
I am nothing without their love

I don't know when but a day is gonna come
When there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun
It will all go black
It will all go back
To the way it is supposed to be

Is it true what I head about the Son of God
Did he die for us, did he die at all
And if I sold my soul
For a bag of gold
To you which one of us would be the foolish one
Which one if us would be the fool

Could you please start explaining
You know I need some understanding
I could do with some exaplaining
You know I want to understand

-bright eyes, "don't know when but a day's gonna come"


1/20/03

can't explain the prophecy
can't sustain complacency
and here the roads aren't empty on dark nights
just want to sit with my sweet, sweet dream
don't know that i know of god
or of myself the messenger
just wanna sit with my sweet, sweet dream

-me

the gentleman's in the lane
spinning his hat on a cane
stepping out, out for a change
good morning all, it's a beautiful day

the general's are winning a war
seemed suicidal before
you come along, now
i'll protect you long as you stay

l.a.
morning had to come
i'd be walking in the sun
living in the day
but last night i was about to throw it all away

if patience started a band
i'd be her biggest fan
look at me, i'm talking to you
i don't want the lead in your play

the star's just a part of the scene
the gentleman in green
paying off out on the street
i can't go home, it's not on my way

l.a.
things i'd never done, cars parked in the sun
living in the day
but last night i was about to throw it all away
last night i was about to throw it all away
last night i was about to throw it all away
last night i was about to throw it all away

-elliott smith, l.a.


1/19/03 3:18am

a knapsack now, spread out, can make your bed.
lay down, portland, what i wouldn't give to see you rest for once.
i don't miss you
oh, i'm trying to convince myself of that.
it's not working.
go sleep where your bed was
it's okay.
i'm scared that it's okay.

-rainer maria, portland


1/16/03

i can't believe how small this world is. and it's played out in my mind before. so really, do i know what's supposed to happen? because i think i love one, but after tonight, the other seems so tempting....


1/14/03

i suppose i've gained what i wished for. i'm almost the official resident, i no longer recognize who it is that stares back at me in the mirror, and those i love are relocating themselves. it is what is best, really. but why, why then, do i absolutely abhor the changes, the fact that this city is becoming me? perhaps because i can't leave. it's not even a choice (though has it ever been?). i've found ways to maximize the accomplishments so as to minimize my time. but i can't afford to live here, monetarily or emotionally. i can't afford to leave, academically. what is it about myself that refuses to submit?? six months ago i was screaming for the academy to call my name, as a sheperd to its sheep. and now that its staff is firmly around my waist i find myself squirming to release my person from it's grasp. let my soul breathe.


Hold me up, hold me down
Leave me in the withering pines
Steal my love, steal my kisses
Take em to the bartering lines

Ten cents up, two bucks down
Ship it out and turn it into fuel
Three bucks shy
Leave it on the table till somebody else with money's got a use

Spinnin so hard
I can’t stand
Shadow of a shadowy man
Hold me up, hold my hand
The treasures that she misses make the man

Ten cents up, two bucks down
Ship it out and turn it into fuel
Three bucks shy
Leave it on the table till somebody else with money's got a use

So hold me up, tie me down
Leave me in the withering pines
Steal my love, steal my kisses
evaluate the differences in life

Ten cents up, two bucks down
Ship it out and turn it into fuel
Three bucks shy
Leave it on the table till somebody else with money's got a use

ahh. new ryan adams. at least something to make me smile....


1/10/03

my sister told me on numerous occasions that whatever it was in the world that i wanted, it would be mine if only i wanted it badly enough. she is living proof of this. i know what i want, and goddamnit i want it badly. i'm gonna get what i want.


1/1/03

Here's a picture of your lonely Fridays
Turned to nothing on a Friday night
Firecracker with a pile of empties
Detonated with a lonely fire
I see your face, I hear your voice
I touch the phone and wonder
Is this explosion gonna set me reeling?
Or just another thing to pull me under?
If you could give me anything tonight
Just a wink, or even just a sigh
I'll be okay, 'cause I've been waiting for a sign
I've been waiting for a sign, to come
Are you the one?

And I was breathless on a Sunday morning
And I was speechless on a Sunday night
For a lack of better understanding
Felt like an engine that just didn't need a tire
I see your face, I hear your voice
I touch the screen and wonder
And I been waiting for the sun to tell me
It's just been sitting here, I don't know why
If you could give me anything tonight
Just a wink, or even just a sigh
I'll be okay, 'cause I've been waiting for a sign
I've been waiting for a sign
I've been waiting for a sign
To come

-ryan adams, "gimme a sign"

i'm such a nerd for my boys of rock...

so another year has come and gone. and hindsight is, as always, twenty-twenty, and i can now truly see that the year truly sped past me. each moment may have crept by me as i was inundated with my life, but i remember this same moment of 365 days ago, and my feelings of hope, and apprehension, and excitement. i was "excited by the mass confusion," i remember that much. in certain aspects, i feel so much as a different person, but i know for just as certain that i am simply that much more the same as always. "the more things change, the more they stay the same." that's what they always say, right? i am perplexed, however. the body's cells regenerate at such a pace so that within an average of about seven years, it is a completely new body with new cells. how can people be the same if they weren't physically the same person they were thirty seconds ago? and we are constantly being infused with new ideas and thoughts and beliefs. if life is so transient, why are we so much a product of our formative years and environments? how do we change, all the while not changing but in fact becoming more like ourselves? perhaps this year i can keep my eyes open, and not wish the clock to tick by. perhaps my odiferous cells will change so that certain scents won't trigger memories, or the cells of my eyes so that my favorite sweater doesn't remind me of sitting in a club a year ago, or my aural cells so that i can no longer anticipate the open chords of my favorite songs before i've actually hit play. but to regenerate these cells cannot possibly change memories burned on our brains. the neural cells may change, but memories cannot possibly belong to the cells, just as our experiences and our thoughts and ideas and beliefs. these belong to the soul. and it is in this way that all the while we change, we become more and more of who we are supposed to be. happy new year to all.


12/29/02

the city's eaten my soul; therefore it's no longer mine.
the gold-domed cathedral called me home but the skyline pulled me down the road.
can never leave don't wanna leave but the only reasons i leave can be counted on one hand.
so desperately in love with the maker and taker of my soul. so i guess i'll be back for what's mine.
however, which road must i take to reclaim my heart?
it's one of those ac/dc things...it flows both ways...

-kristin kummet, 12/29/02


12/25/02

so aside from my usual happiness of our non-commercial kummet christmas, i was presented with not only christmas sushi from my sister but also the new george harrison album, released posthumously at the beginning of december. a great album, most of which was recorded after he was stabbed and when he was in the final stages of cancer, so it's some pretty heavy shit. i just adore the album. and i've never been more in awe of album art in my life--absolutely AMAZING. along with music the album came complete with a double-sided poster of the album cover and of george, a sticker from the record label, a guitar pick with george's printed signature, and a dvd with commentary from george, the other musicians, and his son dhani, who largely put the album together after his father's death. a complete $30 media package of my dear georgie. yay.


12/21/02

the blue blanket that shrouds my minisculism makes me smile
as a four year old
did i poke at the presents?
i don't know.

a proximate year come full circle, and led me to another.
how far can this radiated warmth be known?

-kristin kummet, 12/21/02

12/10/02

Dear Matthew:
I like you a lot, I realize you're in a relationship with someone right now and I respect that. I would like you to know that if you're ever single in the future and you want to come visit me in california I would be open to spending time with you, and finding out how old you were when you wrote your first song.

Dear Jonathan:
I liked you too much. I used to be attracted to boys who would lie to me and think solely about themselves, and you were plenty self-destructive for my taste. At the time I used to say the more tragic the better; the truth is whenever I think of the early 90's your face comes up with a vengeance like it was yesterday.

Dear Terrence:
I love you muchly; you've been nothing but open-hearted and emotionally available and supportive and nurturing and consummately there for me. I kept drawing you in and pushing you away. I remember how beautiful it was to fall asleep on your couch and cry in front of you for the first time. You were the best platform from which to jump beyond myself. What was wrong with me?

Dear Marcus:
You rocked my world. You had a charismatic way about you with the women, and you got me seriously thinking about spirituality and you wouldn't let me get away with kicking my own ass. But I could never really feel relaxed and looked all full around you, and it's kinda too bad because we could've had much more fun.

Dear Lou:
We learned so much. I realize we won't be able to talk for some time and I understand that as do you. The long distance thing was the hardest and we did as well as we could. We were together during a very tumultuous time in our lives. I will always have your back and be curious about you and your career your whereabouts.

-alanis morissette, "unsent"


12/9/02
so apparently i mentioned, in a mad fit of rage, that he was the greatest thing on two legs. i wonder what that means.

oh. and the discovery of the day: it's not that the ex didn't want a long distance relationship. it's just that he didn't want one with me. hmm. and on any other day i might've been in tears. not because it came from him, but because it came from anyone. perhaps i'm growing. and i decided that i could be really excited if a few choice figments of my past showed up at my door, so that we could relive the glory we missed by my youth.

right now, my mind is anywhere but where it needs to be.


12/9/02
he looks at the object held within the grasp of his hands as though a prize, glancing over his shoulders to see if anyone else notices his discovery. twirls it in his palms, lifts it to his nose, as the subjects of true history are reborn in our presence. can you understand the greatness of your prize? it is possible that the others with whom you have not shared your discovery would be unable to comprehend it's weight, either.

and it was in that moment that i became a true writer.


12/8/02
transitory.

aside from my current state of perspicacity (i should clarify that i am most definately lacking at the present moment), i had quite the interesting weekend. you ever have those deja vu moments? i've always been subject to a great many of them; i'd dream about an image or scene or situation that was either unidentifiable or completely irrelevant to the rest of the dream and two years, two months, hell, even two weeks later i'd find myself staring at my dreamt image or involved in my dreamt situation. I used to resist them, like i knew what i was supposed to say next, like i did in the dream, but i would make a point to sidestep the phrase that was supposed to be emitted from my mouth. not only did this happen once yesterday, but indeed twice. and instead of avoiding it, i played right into, letting the words roll off of my tongue as they had so expertly played out in my mind. when younger i was quite disconcerted by these happenings. as they've happened with more frequency, however, it has left me wondering a great many things. does this prove the existence of jung's collective unconscious? am i clairvoyant? insane? or is god playing some sick game on us humans, that we're but pawns in an elaborate game that's been played by the deities millions of times previously? it interests me to hypothesize that whatever happens in our lives, perhaps we've really actually been here before, and this is just the second chance at maybe doing things right down here. the deja vu experiences are just god's way of letting us know that though we may feel terribly lost in this giant world, we do truly know the way.


12/6/02
Now and then someone would accuse me of being evil--of letting people destroy themselves while i watched, just so i could film them and tape record them. But i don't think of myself as evil--just realistic. i learned when i was little that whenever i got aggressive and tried to tell someone what to do, nothing happened--i just couldn't carry it off. i learned that you actually have more power when you shut up, because at least that way people will start to maybe doubt themselves. When people are ready to, they change. They never do it before then, and sometimes they die before they get around to it. you can't make them change if they don't want to, just like when they do want to, you can't stop them.

-andy warhol


11/19/02
They slapped them on you where that bracelet used to be
You know the one I bought in Phoenix, where they sell old jewelry
I was trying to make you angry but I didn’t feed you to the cops
When I threw that drink in that guy’s face it was just to piss you off
It’s harder now that it’s over, now that the cuffs are off
Honey it’s over now, it’s harder now that it’s over
It’s harder now that it’s over, now that the cuffs are off

You’re free
You’re free
Free with the history
You’re free
You’re free
Free with the history

I heard your wrist got bruised; must’ve felt just like old times
Wish you would have grabbed the gun and shot me ‘cause I died
And I’m nothing now without you, yeah, I’m less than nothing now
I am the one between the bars and lost forever now

‘Cause honey it’s over, it’s harder now that it’s over
It’s harder now that it’s over, now that the cuffs are off
It’s over now, it’s harder now that it’s over
It’s harder now that it’s over, now that the cuffs are off

You’re free, You’re free
You’re free
Free with the history
You’re free, You’re free
You’re free
Free with the history

I’m sorry
I’m sorry
Honey, I’m sorry

-ryan adams, "harder now that it's over"

i heart ryan adams. like hot chocolate for the soul.


11/14/02
life will never cease to surprise you. i just wish that i could be aware of the future. then again, that same certainty would kill the fun, the actual spirit of existence. but it's amazing when the least expected people show up at or on your door, with a smile, no less, but never an unyielding, reticent love in the depths of their heart. for me, never.

"why the hell did i believe a single word ever extolled from his mouth? his foul, vulgar, inconsistent, dirty, self-serving, fucking beautiful mouth?"
-me


11/13/02
"It's not that she walked away,
her world got smaller.
All the usual places,
the same destinations,
only something's changed.

It's not that she wasn't rewarded
with pomegranate afternoons
of mingus, chet baker and chess.
It's not stampeding fortune,
or prim affectations.
She's off on her own
but she knows

Now is greater than the whole of the past
is greater, and now she knows
She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be

It's not that transparency
of her earlier incarnations
now looked back on, weren't rich
and loaded with beautiful vulnerability
and now she knows

Now is greater
and she knows that
She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be
Now is greater, now is greater.
And she knows that

She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be
She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be

It's not like if angels
could truly look down
stir up the trappings
and light on the ground.
Remind us of what, when, why or who
that how's up to us, me and you.
And now is greater than the whole of the past

Is greater, and now she knows that.
Now she knows."

-rem, "she just wants to be"


11/5/02
an uninformed voter is better off not voting than voting blindly just to execerise his right.

so apparently i need to work on my italian pronunciation. while practicing a restaurant dialogue in class today i ordered a penis instead of pasta. damn.

next $64.000 question: why has the Lord chosen to test me so?? I feel as if i could crumble, though the world marches around me, expecting me to stand as a pillar of marble. who decided it was i who was so strong?


11/4/02
"I'm waiting for something else
i've already lost myself
this day is descending
the flower is bending
and i tried to believe in these lies
i tried to still see with black eyes
i wanted to tame you but
you never came through

bitter
just one more day when its already been too long
bitter
just one more day when its already been too long
bitter
just one more day when its already been too long
and the sea is forming shackles to deliver

and i came to a resting place
i tried to take just a taste
the future is wasted
and i can't see the light from the sun
i can't even see where to run
you said we are learning but
the whole world is burning
its so wrong
and the sea is forming shackles to deliver

-remy zero, "bitter"

quite frankly, i'm sick of being stepped on. what is it about me that apparently proclaims "step on me"??? did the world stick a sign on my back when i was turned around? and i'm fucking endlessly irritated with my roommate, who apparently has issues with me but isn't a big enough person to address me directly, so simply talks about me to her friends and in her instant messenger away messages. god damn, and this started out as a half-way decent day.


11/1/02
it's as if someone stole through the night, pulling the leaves from the trees and blanketing the floor of the world with them. where yesterday there was asphalt and concrete there is today a carpet of yellow and green. when i went outside i was greeted by a biting wind and cool, crisp leaves migrating from the trees, flowing around my head and across my face, and then to their earthly demise below me.

"you can't lick a belief and decide that it tastes like knowledge."
-professor shapiro


10/30/02
why are people so hard to read? i suppose it would just be too hard to say what you mean, and mean what you say. afterall, that would mean risking our pride. ouch. nobody wants hurt pride, but no one can have happiness without the risk of hurt pride.

"Dear Chicago,
You'll never guess.
You know the girl you said I'd meet someday?
Well, I've got something to confess.
She picked me up on Friday.
Asked me if she reminded me of you.
I just laughed and lit a cigarette,
Said "that's impossible to do."
My life's gotten simple since.
And it fluctuates so much.
Happy and sad and back again.
I'm not crying out too much.
Think about you all the time.
It's strange and hard to deal.
Think about you lying there.
And those blankets lie so still.
Nothing breathes here in the cold.
Nothing moves or even smiles.
I've been thinking some of suicide.
But there's bars out here for miles.
Sorry about the every kiss.
Every kiss you wasted bad.
I think the thing you said was true,
I'm going to die alone and sad.
The wind's feeling real these days.
Yeah, baby, it hurts me some.
Never thought I'd feel so blue.
New York City, you're almost gone.
I think that I've fallen out of love,
I think I've fallen out of love . . . with you."

-ryan adams, "dear chicago"

i just adore ryan adams...


10/23/02
a few pearls of wisdom by my philosophy professor from this morning's lecture:

"has anyone seen a copy of yesterday's NY Times, the science section? apparently they've proven now that happily married males live longer than single or unhappily married males. so if you've got a choice of marrying someone who promises to serve you for life or one who promises to antagonize you for life, you should really choose the one who'll serve you, 'cos they won't kill you."

"so since i know that my daughters are an aries and a cancer, i can accurately predict who they'll marry? that astrology is such shit."

"so if normative subjectivism is true, i guess that means that we'll all join hands in a large circle and sing james taylor songs. i remember doing that at camp...uck."

i dunno, maybe you had to be there, but i was thoroughly amused. maybe it's because i actually managed to stay awake and alert through the lecture. at any rate: kudos, professor shapiro, kudos.


10/22/02
ich liebe dieses Gefühl...