(neb) - ProfilesArchive

About Me

i knew that when the rain stopped falling that the wetness on the concrete would evaporate quickly in the summer heat. i knew from watching an old woman violently waving her arms and banging her keys on the counter of the cafe, that she was insane. i watched her as she stepped out. a light post caught her attention and her eyes lit up. she swung around it, holding on with one hand, the other outstretched. like gene kelly with tits and schizophrenia. i knew that i wasn't myself anymore, and i wasn't him, nor was he hisself, and she wasn't her. she changed her skin this moring. i knew that the leaves would eventually turn, then fall. then grow back again in the spring. i knew that i would fall and never grow again. i knew that every feeling was not wasted. but actions were. i knew all of this without ever waking up.

About me:

My Interests

a good dream, a warm blanket and a small space.

I'd like to meet:

"It never occurred to him that he was a passive thing, acted upon by an influence above and beyond Gloria, that he was merely the sensitive plate on which the photograph was made. Some gargantuan photographer had focussed the camera on Gloria and snap!-the poor plate coud but develop, confined like all things to its nature.But Anthony, lying upon his couch and staring at the orange lamp, passed his thin fingers incessantly through his dark hair and made new symbols for the hours. She was in a shop now, it seemed, moving lithely among the velvets and the furs, her own dress making, as she walked, a debonair rustle in that world of silken rustles and cool soprano laughter and scents of many slain but living flowers. The Minnies and Pearls and Jewels and Jennies would gather round her like courtiers, bearing wispy frailities of Georgette crepe, delicate chiffon to echo her cheeks in faint pastel, milky lace to rest in pale disarray against her neck-damask was used but to cover priests and divans in these days, and cloth of Samarand was remembered only by the romantic poets.She would go elsewhere after a while, tilting her head a hundred ways under a hundred bonnets, seeking in vain for mock cherries to match her lips or plumes that were graceful as her own supple body.Noon would come-she would hurry along Fifth Avenue, a Nordic Ganymede, her fur coat swinging fashionablyy with her steps, her cheeks redder by a stroke of the wind's brush, her breath a delightful mist upon the bracing air-and the door of the Ritz would revolve, the crowd would divide, fifty masculine eyes would start, stare, as she gave back forgotten dreams to the husbands of many obese and comic women.One o'clock. With her fork she would tantalize the heart of an adoring atrichoke, while her escort served himself up in the thick, dripping sentences of an enraptured man.Four o'clock: her little feet moving to melody, her face distinct in the crowd, her partner happy as a petted puppy and mad as the immemorial hatter....Then-then night would come drifting down and perhaps another damp. The signs would spill their light into the street. Who knew? No wiser than he, they haply souht to recapture that picture done in cream and shadow they had seen on the hushed Avenue the night before. And they might, ah, they might! A thousand taxis would yawn at a thousand corners, and only to him was that kiss forever lost and done. In a thousand guises Thais would hail a cab and turn up her face for loving. And her pallor would be virginal and lovely, and her kiss chaste as the moon..."from: "The Beautiful and Damned"- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Music:

i don't listen to music anymore. it hurts.

Create your own Music List @ HotFreeLayouts!

Movies:

just know that i love movies. i hope that's good enough.

Books:

just ask me.

My Blog

tests

My Personality Neuroticism99Extraversion0Openness To Experience34Agreeableness70Conscientiousness1 You feel enraged when things do not go your way. You are sensitive about being treated fairly and fee...
Posted by (neb) on Mon, 17 Dec 2007 09:28:00 PST

here i am

in my room.voltron is exploring.my clothes or drying.i might have the ambition to get all these speakersand backpacks out of my room.i might not.
Posted by (neb) on Sat, 10 Nov 2007 08:13:00 PST

it feels so odd

to be in a quiet house.i can't remember the last time it was quietnot counting everyone being passed out.i can't remember the last time i was home alone.i forgot about loneliness....
Posted by (neb) on Sat, 10 Nov 2007 10:48:00 PST

i survived

my first trip back to the cities since i left.i've decided, that a lot of art is bullshit.but some of it is beautiful.i've decided, i'd rather go straight to fun timein a dirty hotel than see a concer...
Posted by (neb) on Wed, 07 Nov 2007 06:22:00 PST

i’ve learned

that i'm much easier to get along with when i'm happy.and that, when i'm happy, life is beautiful.and when i'm happy, i feel........................................infinite.mostly on the weekends....
Posted by (neb) on Tue, 09 Oct 2007 07:23:00 PST

some people

drunk diali drunk myspace.yeppers.
Posted by (neb) on Sat, 15 Sep 2007 09:47:00 PST

all i ever am

is drunk.and then i cuddle up to erica.unless, i'm at wok then i'm sober.every other time, not.yo cut my hair.yeah, yo!!!!the ethiopan saint.!!!!
Posted by (neb) on Thu, 13 Sep 2007 07:49:00 PST

when people don’t know

that i live here.i get doors slammed in my face.my whiskey stolen.and people, "who the fuck is that guy?"even though i've seen them 30 times here.thank bejeesus megs got my back most of the time.or i'...
Posted by (neb) on Tue, 11 Sep 2007 06:37:00 PST

whiskey

helps you lovehelps you hatehelps you hold onto othersmakes your poo stinky.
Posted by (neb) on Sun, 02 Sep 2007 05:32:00 PST

i really do hate

everyday.and being social.except with the ones i love.the whiskey makes me more personable.i would've thrown a tantrum if i didn't get any today.yeah, i have problem.but who doesn't?who is truly happy...
Posted by (neb) on Thu, 30 Aug 2007 09:12:00 PST