ah to be multiracial.. tis a confusing place
and im ok with that like im ok with old men jumping out of windows..
i like fruit: mostly grapes and apples
old men in parks.. who play chess
feeding squirells and their little friends
singing lyrics to songs i can barely understand
big erasers when im drawing
a little ani when im obliterated
love notes and lemonade
wooden floors
nice photography and drawings and poems and stories passed down by mouth
falling down hills in the mountains
taking my sister in haunted houses
my fakeouts
umm i dont reallae like chocolate. but that doesn't make me less of a girl.
hmm i like being free and open tis fun
like peanut butter mixed with oranges
wanna|block. Me?
My I.Q.
when I was four years old
they tried to test my I.Q.
they showed me a picture
of 3 oranges and a pear
they said,
which one is different
and does not belong?
they taught me different is wrong
when I was 13 years old
I woke up one morning
thighs covered in blood
like a war
like a warning
that I live in a breakable takeable body
an ever-increasingly valuable body
that a woman had come in the night to replace me
deface me
see,
my body is borrowed
I got it on loan
for the time in between my mom and some maggots
I don't need anyone to hold me
I can hold my own
I got highways for stretch marks
see where I've grown?
I sing sometimes
like my life is at stake
'cause you're only as loud
as the noises you make
I'm learning to laugh as hard
as I can listen
'cause silence
is violence
in women and poor people
if more people were screaming then I could relax
but a good brain ain't diddley
if you don't have the facts
we live in a breakable takeable world
an ever available possible world
and we can make music
like we can make do
genius is in a back beat
backseat to nothing if you're dancing
especially something stupid
like I.Q.
for every lie I unlearn
I learn something new
I sing sometimes for the war that I fight
'cause every tool is a weapon -
if you hold it right.
-Ani Difranco
And that's it.
i like little folk singers.. haha
and their fans
Back In Your Head
Not Tonight
Call it OffYou Had TimeAndrea Gibson (Not another love poem?)
Walking with a Ghost
well um yeah
.Resident Evil
[yes all of them]
.Ultraviolet
.Aeonflux
. But I'm A Cheerleader
.Render
[yeah tis true Ani]
.Loving Annabelle
[one of the few movies that gives me balls]
.Bound
[ok minus an annoying voice, tis a hot fucking film]
.Saw
[III,II,IV,I in order of my favorite to least favorite]
.some .other .stuff[s] .that .have .slipped .me .'ittle .mind
i use to like cartoons and stuff that came outta that box now i mostly like the wall behind it..
BOOKS
yeah, they pretty much take me anywhere i wanna go
tis all i've to say
To His Coy Mistress
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast;
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart;
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
-Andrew Marvell
um. yeah.